#Another Fan poster I made!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 2 months

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OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT-

A oneshot where the rest of the hazbin crew finding out that Alastor already owned Reader's soul?! Fluff btw!

Like like

"Some overlord owns your soul?? Who?!"

Reader: "hahaha.. I wonder who.."

Husk: "you don't wanna know."

Alastor sipping his tea on the other side of the room (obviously listening in)

Alastor - [ HIDDEN HEARTSTRINGS ]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx

[ SFW ] + [ FLUFF ] [ SLIGHT LANGUAGE WARNING ]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx

The Hotel was abuzz with life; Charlie rushed around checking in with everyone as they worked on various tasks, and said occupants tried their best to focus amid her constant scurrying.

The Princess of Hell had decided a Grand Opening event would benefit the Hotel.

You didn’t think it was half a bad idea, recently a resident of the newly improved establishment yourself and a sinner with a rare knack for helping others. The promise of redemption did seem silly to you, but the idea was fresh, and you desired to see if it was possible before completely disregarding the Princess’s dream.

You gave a helping hand whenever asked, smiled as kind as ever, and had a genuine nature subtly, inviting the others closer into your friendly aura.

Angel referred to you often as the “sweetest doll in the shop,” poking fun at your generous endeavors, but truly a fan of your presence nonetheless. Vaggie came to you for advice often, needing a calmer voice of reason when Charlie’s overbearing tendencies became too much for her, and you’d give your time graciously. Husk and Niffty, you knew all too well before you arrived at the Hotel, generally comfortable in their company and able to enjoy a drink with them occasionally.

Everyone cherished you in one way or another, which showed significantly in their approach to you.

Angel, as vulgar as he was, tended not to tease you as often as the others. Though there were times he couldn’t resist a good jab at your modesty, amused by how quickly you blushed while attempting to stutter out an equally snarky remark.

The two of you were at it now, taunting one another while giving a once over of the hotel's new advertisement flyers, but your focus was nowhere near the polished posters as you tried to retort Angel's last statement. He’d made another comment about your avoidance of the hotel's resident facilities manager.

Alastor…

The mere sound of his name made you skittish and visibly flustered, and Angel took notice of said reactions very quickly. “You sleepin’ around with him, aren’t ya toots?…” He snickered as you froze up, ears fluttering down as your eyes widened in his direction, “N-no!? Angel…you shouldn’t say things like that!” You puffed your cheeks out, the tip of your ears turning bright red as the spider demon cackled across from you, “Hah! You aren’t denying it either, doll face, so now I know it’s true!..”

“No, it’s not Angel!…” you grumbled childishly, glancing around the room apprehensively as if the overload would emerge from the shadows at any moment, and he very well could…

However, Alastor remained hidden, shadow lingering on an armchair in the dimmest corner of the room, and his attention fully fixed on your exchange with the raunchy spider as it progressed.

The deer demon was intrigued by the interaction, mildly curious about how you’d handle Angels prying, and quietly prideful of his effect on you.

“You can’t fool me toots. I see how you look at ‘em’ when he’s in a room. He breathes, and you’re a mess! It’s actually kinda cute how much you like him!” You glared at Angel, ears standing straight as you seethed at him, “I. Don’t. Like. Him…”

He clicked his tongue, leaning forward with a coy smirk, “Really? So it’s just a coincidence you get all nervous around him but do everything he says without question?… “ Angel was unfazed by the quiet growl you responded with, “That doesn’t mean I fancy him-“

“Okay, so how else would you explain it then?” Angel sat back, arms folding over his chest and torso as he peered at you expectantly.

By this point, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk were listening to the rift between you two. Although, Husk lost notable interest when he realized the subject of discussion while the others subconsciously chimed in without warning.

“He’s right, though..” Vaggie stared at you intensely, trying to piece together clues you swore weren’t there, to begin with, and Charlie soon joined her in the friendly interrogation. “Did you know Alastor before you came here or something? You do act a little off when he’s around…”

For the love of Satan!

Why couldn’t they just let it go?!?

You huffed and hung your head, agitated with so much attention being thrown onto you and becoming uncomfortable under pressure.

The matter of your soul belonging to Alastor was a subject you weren’t fond of breaching for several reasons.

1. Everyone would want to know why and how the arrangement occurred.

2. You were afraid they’d look at you differently, as less than worthy of being treated as a friend or reduced to being Alastor’s property and nothing else…

In reality, you meant much more to the overload than that, but no sinner needed to know such a thing, and to an extent, you weren't aware of his affection either.

Alastor preferred it that way.

It gave the overlord a vague thrill to leave you clueless about his infatuation while enjoying the way you couldn’t hide your adoration for him…

He chuckled to himself watching you squirm under the group's collective curiosity, admiring the deep rose color that set into your cheeks as you pouted.

Precious little thing…

The stag’s grin grew as the thought settled in his mind, eyes hooding over as a hum filled his chest, and though the sound was quiet, you still heard it.

He was there.

In the same room.

Waiting and watching…

Fantastic…

A small groan fell from your lips as you lifted your head, gaze shifting around the room to pinpoint where Alastor was, but there was no trace of him…

Or so you thought…

“My, my, you all are a nosy bunch! Leave the poor dear alone …” Alastor appeared behind you, mic in one hand while the other came to rest on your head.

He petted your hair softly, silently comforting your frazzled state, and you welcomed the gesture with a soft sigh.

Angel raised a brow at the sight, gaze shifting from your content expression to Alastor’s satisfied one as he caressed your ears. “See, this is what I was talking about. You act as if he owns you or something-“

Alastor whipped his head in Angel's direction, startling him and the others a bit as he interjected the observation. “That’s because I do own her, my good man. Mind. Body. & Soul…” The air grew thick with static, an uneasy wave of tension drowning the hotel lobby as Alastor glared daggers at everyone.

However, you still sat obediently under his touch without anxiety clouding your demeanor.

Charlie laughed nervously while Vaggie’s eyes widened as the revelation dawned on them both. Angel's mouth fell open, and Husk grumbled before rolling his eyes.

“Thought it was obvious…” the winged feline mumbled to no one in particular, refocusing on organizing the bar's alcohol arrangement as the conversation carried on.

“A-Alastor owns your soul?” Charlie asked, clearly shocked but actively masking it with a light-hearted tone. You nod slowly, choosing not to speak as his claws scratch behind your ears tenderly.

Vaggie shrugged, “Now, it makes sense…”

Angel finally clasped his mouth shut, stifling a laugh as he leaned further back into the parlor's sofa. “So I was right!” He shouted triumphantly, which earned a side glare from you. “Oh, shut up! Just because he owns my soul doesn’t mean I like him…”

Alastor gave you a quizzical look, humming thoughtfully as he processed your words, “Is that so, my dear?… You feel nothing for me at all?…”

Oh….maybe I shouldn’t have said that-!

Your mind raced to find a suitable reply, but all you could manage was a shaky laugh. “W-well, I wouldn’t say…’n-nothing’…”

His smile grew, “Would you like to elaborate on your true feelings for me in private, then?…”

“Sounds kinky…” Angels mumbled cheekily while flashing a closed-eye smirk, but neither Alastor nor you offered the remark a response.

“Wait, where’d they go?!..” The spider demon sat up pin straight as he realized you two were no longer in the room. The only sign left of your disappearance was the lingering tufts of black shadows swirling the spot he’d seen you and Alastor occupying a moment ago.

Vaggie rolled her eyes, turning on her heel to return to the task she’d left undone moments ago, “Not my business…” she sighed.

Charlie followed after her, stuck between confusion and giddiness over the newfound information, “I would’ve never thought Y/n belonged to Alastor. Wait, do you think she can still be redeemed, or are there strings attached…?”

Her rambling continued on as everyone found themselves busy again.

Everyone except you and Alastor…

You found yourself all alone with the owner of your soul, hidden in his infamous Radio Tower with the beginnings of a confession poised to slip from your tongue as he sat you in his lap.

“Now, I believe you were going to tell me exactly how you feel, darling….” Alastor lowered his head, hands resting on your waist to keep you flush against his chest, and your heart nearly flew from your chest as he did.

“You have my full attention, sweetheart.”

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx

I rewrote this five times….all because of writer's block :( ❤️ someone please send help -I'm hanging on by a thread rn…

[ NO BONUS CONTENT - ]

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abnerkrill · 1 year

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fantastic rebuttal to "writers don't deserve better pay because the stuff they write is terrible/unoriginal", full thread here

(to explain, the "Unknown" under his name is from a add-on bot detector; it usually can assign a percentage likelihood that a user is a human being and not a bot, but I think the blue check system disrupted the add-on so it says "Unknown" underneath his name now.)

[image id under the read more:

May 7, 2023 tweet thread from Tom Vaughan @/storyandplot

With #WGAStrong rightfully in the spotlight this week, I've seen some less-than-sympathetic comments focusing on the lack of originality in our projects. This is a fair criticism of the system, but not the writers. A quick history of how we got here (thread emoji)

The first thing to understand is that Hollywood has NOT run out of new ideas. The studio’s preference for I.P. has nothing to do with regurgitating ideas and everything to do with MARKETING.

The late 60s-70s is generally considered the artistic high of the studio system. Ironically, many contribute this to corporations buying up the studios! The corporations knew they had no idea how to run a movie studio, so... they put creative people in charge.

This is how you got the run of so many great films the studios would never make today. They also took bigger chances on young, promising talent (the first "film school generation" of filmmakers.)

But with the success of JAWS and STAR WARS, the corporations demanded more of those kinds of hits. The creative folks insisted such things were unpredictable, and the business folks said let's make them less so.

(Sidenote: This was also the same time a completely different phenomenon was happening. A/C was becoming the norm for theatres, making summer movie-going much more attractive.)

Over the next decade, more and more MBAs and marketing people gained influence in the studio system. Being business folks, huge hits were not a creative problem as much as a product/marketing problem.

The 80s is when the “high concept” became pre-eminent because it narrowed a sales pitch to one sentence, a trailer, and a poster. This made everyone a marketing agent for a movie because everyone could explain what it was about!

In the 90s, marketing became just as important as the film itself (reflected in their respective budgets) when Hollywood discovered they could profit from fifty years of pre-existing awareness for old TV shows and movies.

This allowed the marketing department to move away from pitching a movie and convincing you to go see it (lower success rate), to simple “audience awareness” and building anticipation. (higher success rate.)

The audience knew what THE FLINSTONES the movie was. They just needed to know the casting and when it opened. No one needed to have the remake of GODZILLA explained to them. They just needed to know when it opened.

The marketing department prefers AWARNESS over SELLING because awareness is something you can throw money at. Selling is harder, and it’s less predictable. This is why franchises are so valuable.

Whenever someone says, “That’s something I can sell!” It’s usually something that can sell itself. What they mean is, "I just have to let people know about this!"

Hollywoods's reliance on property the audience is already familiar with is 100% because... the audience is already familiar with it. It is easier to market the product and this increases its chances of success.

This focus on I.P. has become so pervasive, many, including executives themselves, have forgotten WHY it's valuable. They'll option an unknown comic BECAUSE it's I.P., forgetting that it's unknown and lacks the main asset of I.P.

Writers do love writing on an I.P. that means something to them. Every Star Wars fan who became a filmmaker would love to work in that universe. But we do not love it more than our own original work. We would always rather work on that.

So when you see another remake, or reboot, or adaptation, and think, "Can't they come up with something new?"

Remember, the answer is yes. Yes, we can. And we want to. You can blame the market or the marketing, but either way, the widespread production of truly original content is just not the studio business model we're in right now. #WGAStrong

end ID.]

#wga #wga strike #NOW WITH TRANSCRIPT PEOPLE REBLOG THIS ONE

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skzstannie · 4 months

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"Did you know?"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital

summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason

A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!

Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.

This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.

"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.

"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.

"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."

You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.

Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.

Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.

You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.

"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"

"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.

You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.

Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?

Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.

You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."

Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.

You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.

While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.

You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.

Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.

You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.

Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.

You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.

Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.

"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.

You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.

"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.

"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.

You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.

You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.

You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.

The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.

You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.

The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.

You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.

"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"

"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.

You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.

"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.

"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."

After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.

Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.

Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.

In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.

Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.

The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.

Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.

Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.

You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.

You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.

"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.

"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"

Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.

Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.

You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.

10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.

Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.

5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.

You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.

All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.

Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.

The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.

Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.

"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.

"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.

"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.

Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.

"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.

Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."

You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.

The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.

You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.

"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"

You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.

The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.

You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"

"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."

You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"

"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.

"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.

The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.

Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"

"Get out," you say, your voice tense.

His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"

"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"

"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."

His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."

He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?

The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.

You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.

After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.

Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.

You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."

Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.

"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."

You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"

"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."

Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.

They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.

You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.

Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.

They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.

They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."

All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."

"Yea, but-"

"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."

"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.

"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.

Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.

You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

Part 2

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #skz ninth member #skz 9th member #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz hurt/comfort #part 1/2

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antimony-medusa · 2 months

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Anyways, prompted by nothing in particular (lies, prompted by a scroll through the tag this morning, that was bracing), I think it might be good to remember the things we like about other people in the community.

For example:

BBH fans are some of the most consistently hilarious posters on this sight. Absolutely fantastic mpreg posting, and the art is incredible with your guy on the whole spectrum from creechur to in drag. He has the range. I hope your guy gets pregnant in canon for you, you deserve it.

Tubblings, you post some of the most interesting meta concepts out of moments I have sometimes been in stream for and entirely missed. You are always watching and always ready to take a throwaway line and go "let's unpack that" and bring something heartbreaking out of it. I love getting out of stream and checking up on what Tubbo is up to and finding a) hilarious clips of the creator being out of pocket, b) some new analysis of a tubbo moment that turns me into the crycat meme.

Wilburians, your ability to take like nine streams and *continue to make content out of it* is inspiring. Your guy may not stream, but by god you are keeping the flame alive and you will be ready when he comes back. Please come back, Wilbur, there are so many men you could flirt with here. Leave New York alone, Wilbur, come back and talk to your daughter.

Mariana fans, not only do you have simply fantastic photos to share of your guy looking like a butch lesbian, those enrich my dash every time, but also I have laughed at jokes in a language I don't speak because your guy is so funny and the clips you are make and share are so good. The "mariana unpacks period products" is sincerely one of the funniest things I've ever seen, thank you so much for sharing it.

Etoiles fans, your art is SO GOOD. Like oh my god the Etoiles art is like 100% a banger EVERY TIME. Which is as it should be, your guy simply is that cool, but oh my god, the art is so good. I don't have more words here I am just flailing at the camera. The art is SO GOOD.

Bagi posters, your cubito is one of the most compelling actors on the server, for real, and you are so generous with translating whole speeches done in languages I don't speak. I sat just transfixed during that whole conversation with Cellbit after they discovered their relationship, because the emotion in the argument was so real, and then I scrolled down and found a whole translation and went oh thank you, now I know what people were saying. I'm sorry Empanada lost a life, but your creator's response to it was one for the record books in terms of emotional reaction, and I have seen some fully incredible animations made of it. You take amazing content and make something even cooler out of it, and I'm always so impressed but what you're up to.

Now you go. Tell me something you appreciate about another sub-community.

#qsmp #badboyhalo #tubbo #wilbur soot #el mariana #etoiles #oibagi #qsmp bagi

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porcelaindoll-exe · 2 years

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☇ SECRET — E.M.

— pairing ；Eddie Munson x Fem!Popular!Reader

— summary ；Y/N's convinced her boyfriend is embarrassed to be with her in public, why else would he want to keep their relationship a secret?

— warnings ；Fluff, Angst, Swearing, Season 4 content, Eddie and Reader misunderstanding each other.

— A/N ；I'm normally a slut for Steve Harrington, yet here I am, writing for my new favourite character. This is my first fic on tumblr, so feel free to leave a comment on how I did! Requests are open for any stranger things character, feel free to drop one! ♡

— word count ；3,089.

You loved his hands.

No matter where they were, they always felt amazing, running through your hair or simply rubbing up the sides of your waist, it was as if they had been graced by god.

"G'morning, sweetheart."

Eddie's breath fanned against your neck as he shifted, pressing open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin, his hands coming up to rub your stomach as pulled you closer.

"Morning, Eds.."

You mumbled back as you snuggled your back into his chest, his fluffy hair tickling at your cheek as he moved around, making sure to cover your entire neck with kisses.

"You slept well, right? I slept like a fucking baby."

Eddie chuckled, the vibrations against your skin sending shivers up your spine, your hands coming down to interlace your fingers with his.

"Yeah, I slept well... Your bed's way comfier than mine..."

You firmly believed that was a fact.

Even in the small dingy caravan he shared with his uncle, his room seemed like a safe space from the rest of the world.

A little isolated corner in Hawkins for the both of you to relax after school, away from everyone else and every problem you had.

You'd spend hours lying in bed in his arms, his face snuggled into your neck much like he was now, his warm hands roaming your body and finally resting on your breasts or stomach; some random vinyl that he had put on hours ago forgotten in the background.

It had been the first time you had actually slept overnight at his caravan, and it truly felt like heaven. His warm body encasing you as you slept, his light snores filling the room once he nodded off, the sounds the TV made from the living room mixing in pleasantly with his own noises.

Although you wished you could stay forever in his arms, feeling the cool air coming in through the window from behind the curtains, listening to his random thoughts and feeling his sweet kisses, you knew everything good had to end.

Eddie pulled his arms from around you, pressing one last kiss to your jaw before leaning up and stretching his arms into the air, making his shirt ride up and reveal his tummy, a yawn leaving his mouth once he had finished his obligatory morning stretches.

"Fuck... Wish I could stay longer here, sweetheart, but duty calls. Got a campaign to organise for tonight, the guys have been cheewing my ear off all week."

He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before getting up onto his feet and making his way to the bathroom, a faint "hey" coming from outside as he said hello to his uncle.

You shifted underneath the duvet (which smelt just like Eddie, although a bit more weed-ish than he did), looking up at the poster of Black Sabbath he had pinned to the wall right next to his bed, claiming that it was as if god looked down on him while he slept, when for you and everyone else it was just another rock poster among all the others.

As you heard the shower go on, you sighed, knowing that you should probably get up yourself, not wanting to intrude in his uncle's home more than you already had.

Even if he claimed that he didn't mind, that he was glad that Eddie had found someone and was actually going out more often due to you and his club, you couldn't help but feel nervous around the man, feeling as if you always overstayed your welcome.

He would embarrass Eddie in front of you, taking on the roll of the typical mother and showing you pictures of a small Eddie in baths or wearing sunglasses that were too big for his tiny head, the boy whining and complaining the whole time until he was able to pull you away from suffering even more embarrassment.

His uncle claimed that you two were like those cheesy couples he'd watch on late night TV, the picture of a perfect relationship.

Your relationship with Eddie was in fact perfect, everyone knew that.

Well, everyone would know that if you actually came out as a couple.

For some unknown reason, the first few dates you had had with him were done in secret, up on top of a hill at night or in his caravan after school.

You hadn't mentioned it at first, thinking maybe he was new to dating or that he simply felt more comfortable alone, which you of course weren't going to judge.

But you started to gain suspicion when he shot down your ideas of going out together to somewhere like Starcourt (when it was still up and running), or simply meeting up at school to have lunch together.

Then when you had finally started dating, he asked you to keep it a secret for a while until he was ready, but that 'while' quickly turned into half a year.

You loved Eddie, you really did. But sometimes you wondered... Did he love you the way you did? Was he embarrassed of you? Did he feel uncomfortable being around you when you were with other people?

Your thoughts were interrupted as Eddie came back in, his hair slightly damp from the condensation and a towel wrapped around his waist as he walked around the dimly lit room to try and find his clothes.

You smiled at the way he rummaged through that big pile of clothes on his chair, pulling away one of your bras in confusion before throwing it over his shoulder, continuing with his quest to find wearable clothes for that day.

"Here, let me-"

You pulled the curtains away from the window, rolling your eyes as Eddie hissed dramatically as the rays of the morning sun hit his skin, striking a vampire like pose with his arm covering half his face, stopping instantly as he saw your eye roll, watching you start to tidy up his bed.

"You're killing me here, babe."

He mumbled under his breath, grabbing his Hellfire shirt and slipping it on, turning away from you to pull down the towel and put some boxers and trousers on.

You couldn't help but sneak a peak at his ass as he leaned down to pick his clothes up, blushing bright red as he quickly shimmied into his jeans, finally noticing your stare when he turned his head around, smirking proudly before clapping his hands together and snapping you out of it, motioning to your discarded clothes on the floor.

"C'mon, you want a ride or not?"

You stopped as you leaned down to grab your bra, turning to look at him in confusion as you slowly moved to pick your underwear up.

"A ride?"

"Yeah, a ride, y'know, vroom vroom?"

He moved his hands as if he were holding a steering wheel, staring back at you with the same confusion written across his face.

"I- I know what a ride is, Eddie! I'm not stupid!"

"Then why are you acting like I just spoke russian?"

You blinked owlishly at him, forcing yourself to rip your stare away from him and back down to your clothes, fiddling with a loose string from your underwear that stuck out.

Truth be told, Eddie had never offered you a ride.

Well, that was a lie. You had been in his car million of times, whether it be to make out or to drive you to his house, but he had never once offered to take you to school.

He picked you up sometimes after your club had ended, when there were barely any people hanging around the school grounds, saying a brisk hello before latching onto your lips once the car doors were closed.

Even when you mentioned on the phone that you'd be walking to school from your house or that Robin and Steve were going to pick you up, he simply hummed and wished you a safe ride.

He never once volunteered himself to take you to school.

"Hey, love? You're not blacking out on me are you?"

His voice and his sudden touch on your shoulder made you turn around to look at him, his lips turned up into that goofy smile of his, fingers softly squeezing your shoulder to make sure you were okay.

"Yeah, yeah- It's just, you've never really driven me to school..."

Now it was Eddie's turn to look away, inhaling sharply and kissing his teeth, fiddling with one of the rings that he had accidentally left on while sleeping, the cool metal feeling nice against his warm fingers.

"I uh- I'm not going to make you walk all the way from here, am I?"

Eddie could be a dick sometimes, but he wouldn't go to the lengths of making you walk from the caravan park to Hawkins High while he drove there, he wasn't that type of guy.

Still, you couldn't help but feel guilty at the thought that maybe- just maybe, he felt obliged to giving you a ride simply because he would feel bad for making you go to school alone.

"I thought you were embarrassed of being with me..."

You suddenly muttered underneath your breath, Eddie almost getting whiplash from how quick he turned to look at you, his eyes blown out wide as his mouth opened and closed, much like a fish out of water would.

"Wh- Embarrassed? Of you? Never! Why would you-"

He tripped over his own words, hands moving around as he tried to articulate the words he couldn't find, and if you weren't in the middle of being upset, you would have found it quite endearing.

"You're embarrassed of being with me! That's why you want to keep this a secret, right?"

You said, trying your best to not let your voice crack, but it ended up being in vain, since you ended up sounding like a teen going through puberty.

His warm hands instantly found yours as he realised how upset you actually were, bringing them up to his lips and peppering kisses over your knuckles, muttering "no", over and over as he shook his head.

He couldn't believe what he was actually hearing.

Embarrassed? Of you?

You were one of the most, hell, scratch that; the most beautiful girl in Hawkins! Why would he be embarrassed of being around you?!

His kisses halted as he let go of your hands, looking down at you with a concerned look, his fingers coming up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, wiping away a few stray tears that had started to form with his knuckles.

"Why'd you think that? Why would I ever be embarrassed of you, darling? You're perfect..."

You looked away from his dark gaze, shrugging your shoulders, knowing that if you opened your mouth right then it would all come out messy, probably making the poor guy even more confused.

Yet, he deserved to know what you were thinking, right? That was how relationships worked.

You took a deep breath, turning your head to look back at him and finally spoke. "You always go on these rants about the popular kids being dicks, yet you spent like... Half a year making out with me... Even if I'm one of those so-called dicks."

Eddie's face softened, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks and nodded, egging you on to continue, letting you know that he would listen.

"You want to keep us a secret because you're worried that people will see you as a liar when they see you dating one of the people that you claim you hate."

You felt bad for saying all these things, but you couldn't help but finally get it off your chest, all those feelings that you had pushed down for his sake, scared that maybe he'd get angry at you for not respecting his wishes and dump you, even with the knowledge that Eddie wasn't like that.

He wasn't one of those dicks that went from girl to girl, not caring about their feeling nor the consequences of their actions. Eddie was nothing like them.

He was the sweetest person you had ever met, making sure you were always comfortable around him, that his antics never scared you, that you were okay whenever he saw you mildly tense... He even introduced you to his uncle, brought you to his caravan, let you into the deepest parts of his heart that he had always kept to himself.

You felt bad for unloading this onto him, but you couldn't just ignore it anymore, even if he broke up with you, he had to know how he was making you feel.

You take his calloused hands into yours, pulling them away from your now-red face and taking a step back, your arms crossing over your chest as you looked away as soon as you realised the tears you had tried your best to keep at bay were now freely running down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey, no!"

You felt his warm hands instantly land on your waist, pulling you towards him and letting you rest your head against his chest, a shaky breath leaving his mouth as he snuggled his face into your hair, sighing softly.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl... Of course I'm not embarrassed of you. Far fucking from it. I want nothing more than to drive into school with you every morning, hold your pretty lil' hand as we walk through the halls, eat lunch underneath the bleachers with you like in those silly rom-coms my uncle watches, I want nothing more than to be your boyfriend... A proper one."

He leaned back, allowing you to continue your hug as he brought his hands up to your face, smiling softly at the sight of your confused expression, finding the way you cocked your head to a side adorable.

His thumbs ran over the apple of your cheeks, the cool metal of his rings rubbing comfortably against your warm skin, a small part of you getting worried that maybe your tears would rust the cheap material.

"You, my beautiful girl, are the most amazing girl in Hawkins. I could never be embarrassed of you. I... Never meant for it to come off that way, I was stupid for even suggesting to keep this a secret."

"Then why did you?" You asked slowly, recognising the guilt written on his face as he tried to come up with an answer, your nails digging into the denim of his jacket.

"Cause I thought you would be the one who'd be embarrassed. Not me."

Huh?

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, making him groan and raise a hand to his face to cover his eyes, already having felt exposed enough, not ready for another wave of nerves to wash over him.

"What do you-"

"Fuck, look! You're - You're the most popular girl in Hawkins! Everyone wants you, fuck, I'm surprised Steve hasn't made a move on you yet, considering how much you hang out with each other!"

He cried out in exasperation, moving back as soon as you let go of his jacket and leaning on the wall of posters behind him, running his ringed fingers through his curly hair.

"I... Didn't want to ruin your reputation. If people realised you were dating someone like me, the fucking king of freaks, they'd label you as one too! I'm sure you've worked hard for your reputation... I can't just ruin that out of my own selfishness."

Your gaze softened as you noticed the way his fingers were nervously tapping against the wall, his other hand pulling and tugging at his locks as he looked everywhere but your face, clearly doing his best to not feel even more uncomfortable than he already was.

"You were doing it to protect me?"

"I mean- Protect your reputation more than anything. I didn't want you to get bullied like me or the Hellfire club, y'know? I didn't want to see my favourite person be put down simply because of going out with me. I didn't want to be the cause behind your friends leaving you-"

You interrupted him as you smiled, his eyes instantly darting towards you and cocking an eyebrow up in confusion.

"Is my meltdown amusing to you, Miss L/N?"

You gasped, shaking your head and trying to wipe the smile off, yet you couldn't help it at the realisation behind his words.

Eddie only wanted to protect you from being hurt by your friends.

He didn't hate you, he didn't feel embarrassed by you, fuck, he loved you!

"No, of course it's not, Mister Munson... I'm just... Shocked that- that's the actual reason."

Eddie chuckled, pushing himself forwards with his foot and walking up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and starting to sway you around.

"You actually thought it was because I was embarrassed? Oh, honey. You're the best fucking thing that's happened to me. Why in the world wouldn't I want you next to me?"

Your arms found their way around his neck, his thumbs softly rubbing circles on your waist as he slowly pulled you two around the room, what had began as an attempted hug, now having turned into some sort of weird waltz.

"Does that mean that I get to be your girlfriend? Officially?"

You'd never seen Eddie smile brighter than he did right then.

"Officially."

Your heart did flips as he spun you around, finally dipping you and dramatically pressing his lips to yours, lifting you back up before you could slip out of his grasp and smiling down at you.

"So about that ride..."

Dustin and Mike had seen weird, terrifying, hell even traumatic things... But nothing could have prepared them for the sight of you, one of the most popular girls in school, climbing out of Eddie's car in one of his jackets, his hand holding yours as he helped you out.

"Oh, dude, no, no, no."

"I think I'm going to puke-"

Dustin hurled as soon as he saw you press your lips to Eddie's, Mike's expression of horror being shared amongst most of the students of Hawkins High.

Everyone got the memo as soon as Eddie lifted his middle finger up, his other arm hooked around your waist as he buried his face into your neck, everyone turning around and trying to get back to their own conversations.

"You're so extra, Eds... You literally parked in middle of the field..."

"What can I say, honey? I love a dramatic entrance."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #stranger things s4 #[ 𓂅 Lily's Fics ♡ ]

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miiukkaa · 10 months

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raph's subway room 🧸

personally speaking, raph is both an easy and a difficult character to understand. he has grown up with the responsibilty of having to look after his younger brothers. he definitely can be rowdy, playful, goofy and irresponsible but there's a sense of responsibility that he carries and holds onto. i mention this only because i feel this shows in him wanting to let his brothers have things over himself (things like furniture, trinkets, food... just stuff in general). not in a dramatic way in which he'd sacrifice EVEYRYTHING for the sake of others and thus neglect his own needs, no, no, it's not black and white like that. this would simply mean that he owns less furniture/trinkets/things than what you'd imagine. a mindful guy looking out for those he loves (let us not forget that he looks after himself, too).

i gave the big guy a big bed which is supported by the subway car's seats opposite to one another as well as cinder blocks. again, very little space underneath the bed. there're a few teddybears by the foot of the bed (note that the mattress isn't as wide as the car so the bears are just sitting on the seat).

raph is a RnB fan and has shown to own a collection of vinyl records. i was feeling generous so i gave him a vinyl record player with an amp right next to his bed.

while i could have moved his DIY bench press in the car, i rather it stayed outside of the car as seen in the movie. he would probably still have some weights stored in his room (he could easily use smaller weights in his room, too - i feel there's enough room for that).

opposite to the main entrance, he'd have a clothing line to hang some of his clothes. oh, and the door on the right side? that's just half-open. i'm not sure if raph himself would fit through a half-opened door but i like to imagine it's more of a window to him anyway. (from the bed he would lean a little to squint what's happening outside before shouting "hey, what's the commotion about!?" or something).

posters! first we have ghostbear's poster which we have seen in raph's sewer room. i feel he would have ripped the poster off of the wall after feeling betrayed by the wrestler but then later taped it back up after having calmed down and feeling remorseful. he still does admire the sport and ghostbear after all. complicated feelings.

a new lou jitsu poster in which our favorite rat man is simply just posing for the fans. speaking of the rat man, i'd like to think he helped raph write down the famous japanese quote from the show: 「あなたは一人じゃない」 translated to "you're not alone". i mean, if i were raph, i'd want to write the quote down... ESPECIALLY since he doesn't know the language and it's easy to forget for that reason. it's like splinter signed his poster for his son in a way :)

the mad dogs flag looks like it was bought rather than self-made... so i doubt they would have bought just one for leo. i mean "mad dogs" is their thing so you gotta get all the siblings involved kind of like a shared tattoo!!

then a silly little drawing by mikey in which he drew raph flexing :)

and speaking of mikey! there's some graffiti art by him! both of them are near identical to the ones seen in raph's sewer room but... one of them just says "boss!" and the other is just flames.

a very simple room design but i feel it's just enough for raph :]

leo's room

mikey's room

#feel free to use for reference yall #miiukkart #rottmnt subway lair reference #rottmnt

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trulyhblue · 4 months

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MISS AUSTRALIA (PART ONE)

Katie Mccabe x Aussie!Chelsea! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, praise kink, angry sex, dom! Katie, sub! Reader, enemies, coarse language, Chelsea mentions, little age gap.

A/N — I know Mackenzie wasn't at Camp but let's just skip past that :)

Masterlist

___________________

The game against Arsenal had been a complete disaster. No one could've prepared you for the monstrosity it turned out to be.

Two days before the long-awaited London Derby, you were in Canada alongside your fellow Australian teammates, basking in the double defeat against your Chelsea teammates Jessie Fleming, Ashleigh Lawrence, and the Canadian National Team. To be fair, it hadn't been all that bad. Some Canadian fans were dubbing it ‘revenge’ after the World Cup, but a friendly was hardly much vengeance in your eyes. They had beaten your B team with their A team, and you had only played the second game alongside the usual starters like Steph, Hayley and Alanna.

By the end of the second game, you had swapped shirts with Jessie, who smothered you in forehead kisses and walked alongside Ashleigh for the lap around the stadium. Steph and Caitlin joined shortly after, both of their jackets covering their sports bras; they had given their jerseys away.

Soon enough, Kyra filtered over. You poked your tongue out to the girl, who giggled and reciprocated the actions before hugging your waist. Dozens of fans banked against the barricade, holding out signs and jerseys to sign. Phones stacked on top of hands reached out as the group of you travelled around the loop. You still had a firm hold on Kyra as you peeled your shirt off, handing it to a little girl with big, bulky glasses. You signed her poster, took a photo, and thanked her before waving goodbye. Your boots had been cuffed and peeling after a nasty tackle by your opponent, so you didn't waste any time in unlacing them and passing them over to a pair of twin girls, who hugged each other and cried at the notion.

Steph and Caitlin mingled with their respected fans while you and Kyra continued to use markers and pens to sign anything that was within arm’s reach.

“Oi, y/l/n!” Caitlin called out, your head turning toward the girl who stood a few feet away. “C’mere, look at this.”

Kyra waddled beside you as you made your way over to where Caitlin had pointed. You couldn't help but notice the slight huddle of fans that had accumulated in that spot, several cameras filming the interactions with cheeky smiles decorating everyone’s faces.

You caught sight of the massive poster, reading it with a blank expression, knowing the cameras were trying to catch your reaction. The sign was coloured in red and blue, with a photo of you on one side, and none other than Katie McCabe on the other. You tried hard to conceal the scowl on your face, hiding behind a sly smirk. You ran your hand over the writing: ‘YELLOW CARD DERBY’

It was no secret that both you and McCabe had a notorious reputation for receiving yellow cards from referees. It was a running joke in the Football community, starting from when you had your debut for the Matildas at fourteen, against Ireland. Katie had gotten a card that game too, both of you receiving it for tackling one another. You played for Sydney FC before you moved to Chelsea, playing your debut match against Arsenal six months after your seventeenth birthday.

Katie had been sent off that match for nearly breaking your ankle, a red displayed in the air before she stopped off with a heated scowl across her face. You knew of her reputation from International games, recalling the older woman as an aggressive little shit that hated you for no reason.

London Derbys started to become all the more heated. After a while, both sides tried their hardest to not put you on at the same time, pressured into thinking that they’d end up being a player down due to your rivalry.

It got so bad that people started picking sides. Dividing the two London teams and causing hate to spread. You were younger than Katie by six years, which seemed to be the leading factor in why people believe that Katie is too harsh. On the other hand, Arsenal supporters reckon that you are immature on the pitch. In prior matches, you had been called a whinger, especially when you were around your sister-like teammate, Hayley Raso.

It is safe to say that you and Katie were not on agreeing terms, even off the pitch, with mutual friends to keep you at bay. You both competed for everything. You were neck and neck in the Ballon d'Or, scoresheet, heat maps, everything. It didn't matter if you weren't playing against one another, you were always compared.

But it didn't seem to bother either of you. In fact, you were certain Katie enjoyed it.

You did too.

“Do you agree with it?” Steph laughed beside you, swinging her arm around your shoulders, pointing towards a printed photo of you pushing Katie to the ground, blood smeared across your nose and lips. Beside it was another photo of the referee pointing towards both of you with red cards. You were looking at Katie with utter turmoil; your Australian Jersey was covered in mud, hers had streaks of dirt covering her socks, and a testing smirk written across her face. Behind the pair of you was a younger-looking Steph, her hand covering the shock on her face.

“None of those were my fault.” You answered, watching as the huddled crowd around you chuckled at your response. You didn't want to say the wrong thing, you didn't know if what you said was that funny. “I promise I don't do it on purpose.”

“Oh, yeah, right, Little Miss Goody-Too-Shoes.” Caitlin scoffed, poking your side. “I've seen you play, you're a ride-off.”

Kyra giggled like usual, swaying her hips into yours. She pointed towards the red card photo. “I don't remember that being an accident.”

You don't exactly know why, but your cheeks are stained a solid red, staining your freckles with a tint of embarrassment. Katie had pushed you over, laughing when your face met the cold, wet mud. It was not a pleasant memory you look back on fondly. “Shush, Ky.”

You felt a presence behind you lifting you up by a grip around your waist. You were pulled onto the shoulders of Macca, earning a yelp to sound from your lips, the interaction leaving fans laughing even more.

“Oh, Baby, what's wrong?” Macca said teasingly, holding your thighs with her hands. You looked down at her and frowned, the team’s nickname for you left you feeling a tad humiliated considering it was in front of people who didn't know of the handle. Kyra took out her phone, taking a few shots of the sight with the intention of putting it in her photo dump.

When Macca caught sight of the poster, she cracked up. “Oh God, that's good.”

“Put me down, Mackenzie.” You groaned, kicking your feet half-heartedly into her side. The Keeper did as she was told, but made the show of huffing and puffing as she let you off her shoulders.

“Do you want me to sign it or something?” You said to the boy holding the poster, watching as his eyes lit up as he nodded.

“Are you a Chelsea or Arsenal fan, mate?” Steph asked him, waiting as the boy shook his head.

“West Ham.”

This made Mackenzie’s head snap towards him. “Really?”

“Yeah, who the fuck supports West Ham?” Caitlin questioned, yelping when Steph whacked her in the chest. “Language, Cait.”

“You're a real one, mate,” Mackenzie said, walking up to the boy and hugging him, making him smile like it was Christmas.

“Who do you think’s gonna win on Saturday?” Kyra egged on, shoving past Macca and grinning at the boy, indiscreetly pointing towards herself and the other Arsenal girls.

The boy looked between them and shrugged, folding his sign back up when you finished signing it. His eyes landed on you. “Well, you're my favourite player, but Chelsea are always too cocky.”

“No lies said.” Kyra said, yearning you to push her playfully.

“What if I score a goal, will you go for me then?” You asked, holding out your hands.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, but that's if you get past Katie.”

You couldn't help but scoff, shaking her head. The girls around you smirked at your competitive nature, sharing knowing looks.

“I don't remember the last time McCabe scored against me.”

***

You were glad that at least you kept that statement true.

The video of you reacting to the poster had gone viral, and everyone found the interaction utterly hilarious. Not only did you have a reputation for cards, but you also had one for being a sub in important games like this.

But that assumption didn't seem to make an appearance today, as you waited in the tunnel beside Jessie, holding the hand of a little girl, waiting as you caught sight of Caitlin in front of you

“Are you alright?” Sam muttered, turning to face you with an inch of worry apparent in her eyes.

You looked back at her, nodding. “Yes, just tired.”

You said this in truth. You hadn't had much sleep over the past week due to the different time zones you were living in. Sam had an injury during the Friendly, therefore not being able to compete alongside your Matildas team. But the fatigue was apparent in everyone’s eyes. You even noticed it in Kyra when you saw her on the bench as you walked towards your starting position.

The fans were screaming at the tops of their lungs, but you slowly drowned them out as you honed in to concentrate. You looked to your left, finding Jessie throwing a thumbs up towards you. You smiled back at her, gulping down the last of your anxiety before the whistle blew.

You knew this would be a hard game before it even started, but Arsenal’s level of aggression was completely unexpected.

Fouls were handed out left and right, followed by a bit of push and shove from either side. You fought your way up and down the wing, waiting for an opportunity to surpass. Both teams were angsty with the ball, throwing easy chances away as the crowd grew in volume.

Sam hadn't come down to defend like she usually does, instead waiting past the halfway mark as the midfield continued to pass to and fro.

You grew annoyed at the lack of ball time you were receiving, even when you made a point to be out and open near the corner. Your breathing was ragged and tested, your patience running thin when the crowd of Chelsea players swarmed Victoria Pelova and leaving Beth Mead to shoot in the open.

“There were four of you, for fuck’s sake.” You muttered, dragging your hands over your face as you sighed, returning to your starting position once more.

It started to become ridiculous when you still hadn't received the ball, yelling out on the wing as the minutes passed with Arsenal in front. You hadn't been in the midst of any tackles or gameplay until the thirteenth minute when one of your teammates crossed the ball to you over the halfway line.

You dragged your feet across the ball, feeling the grass hit your feet as you sprinted toward the goal. You stepped past Lotte Wubben-Moy, leaving an open space to slot it through toward Kaneryd.

The ball had left your feet with a concentrated pass before your balance was cut short. A potent force left your legs to crumble beneath you. Your body collided with another, leaving your lungs without any air. Your head spun with nausea, the speed at which you were taken out leaving you heaving for breath. It took you a few moments to register the figure you had landed on, and how the crowd went wild at the shot that had passed Zinsberger.

“I’d never thought you liked being on top, y/l/n.”

The voice made your stomach churn even more.

“Surprised you have enough brain cells to think, McCabe.”

You rolled off her with a groan, your legs aching from the impact. You felt the hands of one of your teammates soothe the distant pain in your head, causing you to roll onto your back.

Instead, you were met by a red jersey. “You alright, Baby?” Steph asked, helping you up.

You didn't have time to answer Steph. She was bombarded with a shove from Lauren James, who turned to the ref with her hands in the air. “That’s a red, ref! The ball left her feet!”

“James, do not yell at me.” The referee fired back. “McCabe, this is your first and final, am I clear?”

McCabe shrugged her shoulders. “I slipped.”

Lauren looked like she was about to pounce. “Oh, you little-”

“What, eh?” Katie walked up to challenge the girl back. “Can Miss Australia not speak for herself?”

Kim Little, Arsenal’s captain, appeared in the mix. “Katie, that's enough! Walk away.”

“Can't handle a tackle, what a baby, shouldn't be on the field—”

“McCabe!” Kim snapped, which shut up whatever rant Katie was about to begin.

The ref turned towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder. The action was met with Arsenal boos. “Y/l/n, are you alright?” Looking concerned at your pained countenance. Lauren rubbed a hand across your back, eagerly awaiting the card Katie deserved.

“I’m fine.”

Maybe you shouldn't said no — maybe that would've landed Katie with a card. But you knew you’d be sent off if you did. You had just scored an assist to level your team. Katie McCabe of all people was not going to ruin that.

The game continued, your left ankle feeling tampered with as more tackles progressed.

It was clear that Arsenal were hungry for this win, leaving Chelsea left and right with calculated footwork and sprints across both their defensive and attacking lines.

When an Arsenal corner arrives shortly after, you run back to defend the post alongside Jessie. Steph is walking to take the corner with the ball in her hands, giving both teams time to find their spot in the box. Pelova was in front of you, Russo to your right. The majority of your midfielders banked against the goal in an attempt to stop the chances of Arsenal moving up two-one.

Steph was about to kick when you felt someone against you. Unknown hands grip your hips tightly, maneuvering them with ease that your body was stuck to them. Your breath hitched when you were pushed forward, forced to leave your place by the post.

“Miss Australia bent over for me?” The voice whispered, pricking the alcove of your neck. “With all these people watching? Guess she's not as innocent as everyone thinks.”

You weren't watching Steph’s long shot into the box, too angered by Katie to care. You didn't notice Amanda Ilestedt’s header into the middle of the goal, hitting the back of the net with a swoosh, met by North London cheers. Hell, you didn't fucking notice anything except Katie falling to the ground, your arms propelling her with so much force you fought to hide the flame that hindered your cheeks.

The whistle blew, causing celebrations to halt when both teams found the two of you glaring daggers at one another.

“Get off her, Y/l/n,” Wälti called out, running towards you and pushing you backwards.

“Nah, what a fucking ride-off.” You heard another Arsenal player say, making you stomp in the opposite direction, huffing in annoyance when the referee called you back.

Kim Little and Sam Kerr were standing by their respective players when the referee was scolding the two of you. It was obvious that you were painted as the immature one since it was made out that you needed to control your emotions more.

“I won't have you manhandling each other like idiots on my pitch. You play fair or you don't play. Understood?”

The four of you mumbled your understanding, filing back into place begrudgingly. Sam was ordering Jessie to swap with you, but you found yourself shaking your head, promising her you’d pull it in.

Turns out, you didn't.

The same circumstance of you pretty much skin-on-skin with Katie happened after Alessia Russo’s chip against Berger. 3-1 for an undefeated team was embarrassing, and no matter how many times you fed the ball well enough to become an assist, the communication just wasn't there.

“Get the fuck off me, McCabe.” You seethed, trying your best to squirm your way out of her grip, but to no avail.

“You need to stop all that wriggling, Y/l/n,” Katie responded, the smirk on her face was evident even from behind. “Those red cheeks couldn't have been from running.”

“I’m not red.”

“Ha, yeah, you and London both.”

Katie and you both got your yellow cards in the second half.

You knew people would find it funny online — the fact that you both got it at the same time — but the game felt like it had gone on forever, and at this point, all of Chelsea’s players were defenders.

You had a clear shot of the goal after Niamh Charles curled the ball to your wing, leaving you and Katie battling for possession near the sideline.

You couldn't help but notice how high her hands had gotten on your waist. Your knees were bending slightly so you could attain more balance, but maneuvering past Katie was a challenge, and proven extremely difficult.

You let out a struggled breath, angered at the lack of options your teammates offered due to their attacking absence. The ball beneath your feet went back and forth between the women in front of you. The two of you were complete mirrors of each other, both trying to nutmeg the other or humiliate them in some way. It was as if minutes had gone past when everyone was watching the two of you battle it out. It wasn't until Jessie came up behind the two of you, threading the ball out from beneath McCabe’s feet and dribbling it away that it seemed to have stopped.

You blanked when you saw Katie stretch her leg out, tripping Jessie onto the floor; leaving her limb on the grass.

“You’re such a cheat!” You exclaimed, pushing Katie with your hands. “You’re a fucking cheat, McCabe, and you know it!”

Katie surged towards you, her breath thick against your face. Your shirt was taken into her hand. She was so much taller than you. “Imagine needing your girlfriend to win your battles for you.” She spoke, her tone condescending. “The score says it all, Miss Australia. If only you weren't so distracted by me, you’d realise.”

She was looking down at you now, holding your shirt so tightly you knew that if you moved, she’d pull you right back in. Her accent was coarser than usual, sending you into a frenzy of disarray and warmth. She was towering over you, her build similar yet broader. Her smirk was minuscule, but prominent all the same. You knew you had lost the game, but you weren't going to lose this fight.

“And where’s your girlfriend, McCabe? Is she somewhere in the stands?”

You were pulled apart but Kim and Sam, the referee tramping over at the sight of the pair of you bundled up. The presence of the yellow card was something you expected, but not rewarding whatsoever.

“Get off my player, McCabe,” Sam ordered, holding a protective arm over your shoulder. Somehow, you knew what she was thinking, peeling your Captain’s arm away from you and marching off. In the distance, you could hear Katie speaking. “She's a big girl, Kerr. I promise it's never on purpose.”

Of course, she was mocking you, you thought. Of course, she saw the video.

You were replaced by Guro not long after that. The Chelsea cheers did not seep through your irritated exterior. Your head was pounding from the fall you had at the start of the game, and you winced at the tinge in your ankle as you ran off to hug Guro.

Emma Hayes strolled up to you, placing a stern hand on your shoulder. “I want you to cool off before you come back and sit down. You're going to shake each of those girls’ hands before you go home tonight.”

Without a second thought,, you stomped down the tunnel, making a point to let your metal studs echo all the way to the changerooms. At twenty-two years old, you had the most yellows in the WSL for your age. If the stats were compared, people would argue that you were higher than most of the older girls.

It was nothing you were proud of, despite the effortless compliments you gained for being potent in your determination to win. But you had been told by almost every coach that you could be too aggressive.

You kicked off your boots, peeling off your shin pads and socks to reveal the nasty bruise that was already blossoming on your ankle. Removing your clothes, you engulfed the hot spurs of water that left the shower head in Emirates Stadium. There was still half an hour of the game left when you were subbed off, so you made sure to take your time washing yourself from head to toe, soaking in the warmth that relaxed the tension in your muscles.

You replaced your game kit with some Matilda's trackies and a fitted tee. Combing your hair into a pony, washing your face with freezing cold water, you waited for your team to arrive from the game, feeling defeated and unprepared for the beating they were about to receive from Emma.

The changing rooms blocked out most of the noise from the game above, except from the thundering rumble of Alessia Russo chants that boomed after five minutes of waiting. You knew that had scored just by the sinking of your gut. The jetlag and fatigue were starting to hit you now, and you had half a mind to just pack up and go home. But you remembered Emma’s words to you before you stormed into the changing rooms. You knew she’d have your neck at training for the next three months if you didn't do as you were asked.

So you stood up, slotting your phone into your pocket, making your way back through the tunnel. The volume of the crowd was starting to get louder, and with each step you took, the less you felt inclined to follow through with the orders you were given.

You were about to turn the corner that led to the field when you were pushed back against the wall, your arms pinned above your head, your body caged in by someone tall and firm.

“Are your cheeks always so red, Y/l/n? Cause every time I see you, you look like you're on fire.”

“Piss off, McCabe.”

Katie was towering over you, unpinning your hands from their place above your head, leaning down so that you could see every detail of her face.

“You're free to go.”

“You're a right pain in the arse.”

She was laughing at you now. “Am I bothering you, Miss Australia?”

“Stop calling me that!” You knew your cheeks were flaming now but you couldn't help it.

Katie grabbed your face with her hand harshly, pulling you closer so that you were forced to look her straight in the eyes. “No, you don't like that?” Her hips met yours, and you squirmed. “What about Baby, eh? Everyone seems to call you Baby. You act like one so I guess it suits.”

“Katie—”

“Oh, so you're calling me Katie now, are ‘ya? I call you Baby and you call me Katie, is that what's happening?”

“No.”

Katie scoffed, placing her knee in between your thighs, keeping you planted between her. You had nowhere to put your hands, so you decided behind your back was appropriate. You felt the subtle movements of her knee in between your legs, her eyes watching for your reaction intently.

“No?”

You watched her head move down to your ear, her breath fanning across your neck. Her lips gradually grew closer to your pulse point, where goosebumps poured over your skin. When the warm sensation of her lips met your neck, your body subconsciously relaxed on her knee, making you jolt at the sudden friction applied to your core.

“Yes.” You ushered, pulling your hands out awkwardly as your neck reclined against the wall, your face etched to the ceiling. You were so, so stupid. What were you thinking?

“Yes… what?” You heard her say, her tongue swirling across the harsh mark she just made below your ear. You hesitantly fell back down on her knee, holding in the groan that yearned to leave your lips. This time, as you tried to regain the dispersing shards of your dignity, lifting your heat off her knee, her hands moved to seize your waist, pushing your hips down to roll against her knee.

The motion made you whine. “Yes, Katie.”

The woman chuckled as she coerced your hips back and forth, sucking and licking down your neck and across your collarbone. Feeling a slight ache from the game she just played, the sensation of the majority of your body weight rubbing against her knee made the Arsenal Victory even more triumphant.

“Is this okay, Baby?” She asked, leaving your neck cold as she waited for your response. You were so tired from the past few days that you slumped on Katie’s knee, waiting for her to continue kissing and moving you as she pleased.

“I need to shake people’s hands.” Your voice was meek but clear.

Katie looked at you, taken aback. “What?”

You wrapped your arms off her shoulders, holding them together in front of you. “Emma told me I need to shake everyone’s hands after the game is finished. She’ll be really angry if I don't.”

Katie’s smirk was back. “Will she now?”

You, too exhausted to realise she was egging you on, nodded. “Yes. So I have to—”

“Shake my hand?”

“Yes.”

Katie leaned in, raising her eyebrows. “What if I don't want to shake your hand?”

You were evidently stumped at the question, pursing your lips as you struggled to find a response. Katie's smile grew, and you grew bitter.

She moved to kiss your neck again to silence your upcoming retort. “What will Hayes do if you don't shake my hand, hm? She’d be so disappointed in you, wouldn't she?”

You tried to focus on anything but her lips led closer to your breasts. “McCabe, I need to—”

“What are you going to tell her, hm? When she asks you if you shook my hand, are you ‘gonna tell her that you tried to get off on my leg instead?”

You were at loss for words. Was she wrong? Of course, she wasn't. Katie McCabe was never fucking wrong, and here you were, pathetic on her knee, about to get off to your enemy calling you Baby, when you tell her you need to shake her hand. You really were a baby.

“Is that what you're going to say to her, Baby?”

“N-no.”

“Why not? It's the truth. You wouldn't want to lie, would you?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I'm not going to tell her that.”

She must've caught onto your honest dispute, slowly dragging her knee directly onto your clit and rubbing circles over it. You didn't expect her movements, so you moaned, pulling your head into her neck and breathing heavily.

You were so out of breath it wasn't funny. “I’m- I told Jessie I’d spend a night at her house.”

“I didn't take you for the cheating type, Y/l/n.”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

Katie slowed down her movements. “I ‘spose you weren't thinking you’d get off with her knee tonight, would you?”

“No, we were just going to watch a movie.”

“How ‘bout this?” She whispered, pushing your hips against the wall. “You go and shake everyone’s hands like a good girl and I’ll treat you like one afterwards.”

You groaned when she pulled her knee out from under you, feeling your inner dread grow when you heard the full-time whistle and a tsunami of cheers.

“We won 4-1.”

“Still second on the ladder.”

“You have bite for someone who was just moaning fully clothed.”

“Goodbye, McCabe.” You snapped, trying to act Almighty and unbothered by the longing in between your legs. You had to double-check that nothing had leaked through from how wet you were, trudging up the tunnel without a second glance back.

When you found yourself on the pitch, you made a point to shake each of the Arsenal player's hands, including the ones on the bench, which had been nothing short of mortifying. Almost all of them looked at you strangely, trying to push past the obvious awkwardness and reciprocate the sportsmanship, except for the Aussie girls, who hugged you and offered warm conversation with the buzz of their victory.

“Is your ankle okay?” Caitlin asked, pulling you out of an embrace with worry smeared across her features.

You nodded, showing her the bruise by moving your sock. “Yeah, just some bruising. You guys played really well.”

Steph did the same: hug and condolences, while Kyra was completely opposite.

“LONDON IS RED!” She screamed, laughing when she mounted your back from behind.

“Get off, loser.” You retorted, pulling her into a hug as the two of you met in the middle of the field. You knew heaps of people were waiting for signatures, but you didn't care.

“What’s all over your neck?” She asked, grabbing your jaw and observing the fresh marks.

Shit, you thought, recalling the sensation of Katie’s lips tugging at your skin.

You pulled away, hoping distance would lessen the stringency of them. “I think it was from the grass. Y’know, when I fell.”

“Oh, don't worry, I know.” Kyra giggled, seemingly too full of energy to remember what she said two seconds ago. “You need to take a chill pill, Y/n/n. I’ll be sending you all the TikTok edits of you and Katie when I get home, don't you worry.”

“Please don't.” You muttered, holding out your hand to interlock it with Kyra’s. “Are you going straight home or?”

Kyra chuckled. “After this win? No fucking way.”

“You're still second on the ladder.” You reminded yet another Arsenal player.

Kyra poked her tongue out. “Boo, you whore.”

Kyra left you to celebrate with her teammates, marking her as the last Arsenal girl you needed to shake hands with.

You walked back into the changing rooms with an impassive frown on your face. Lots of the girls were already in the showers, Jessie among the few that had already finished and changed.

“We still up for tonight?” You asked, hoping your prior plans that you made before the game were still available after the thrashing they had just endured.

Jessie nodded, pulling you into a hug. “Sam, Millie, and Erin are all going to the pub to have a drink. They want us to come with them, you in?”

“Why not?” You replied, kissing the girl’s forehead before packing your bag.

You were glad that you were going out with your teammates instead of caving and finding Katie. But something deep down made you ponder whether what just happened was a one-off thing.

Spoiler: it wasn't.

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #arsenal #arsenal wfc #chelsea #chelsea women #kyra cooney cross #caitlin foord #steph catley #sam kerr #jessie fleming #auswnt #katie mccabe smut

481 notes · View notes

yaksha-lover · 5 months

Note

may i request vil, idia, azul and malleus with a reader (reader is their s/o) that is yuu but decided to stay in twisted wonderland and in their second year at nrc they participated in the vdc singing bc, surprise, they have an amazing voice! (i have this thought that maybe they were also in the pop music club with kalim, cater and lillia)

after the vdc many companies contacted them and after graduating at nrc they became a really popular artist

basically the boys reaction to their s/o singing at the vdc and then becoming famous, how would they react and how would they support them

thanks for the request!! sorry i took some time with it! hope you enjoy :)

Vil

Vil probably knew you were a decent singer considering you were in the pop music club

But you’ve never really sang in front of him, so your performance at the VDC definitely takes him by surprise (in a good way)

He’s super happy for you when you start getting offers from recording labels and such

Although he would’ve helped you out with his own contacts in the industry if you’d wanted

He loves that you can relate to each other even more than before

Now you understand what it’s like to be a celebrity as well, both the good and bad, bringing you two closer together

He’s super proud of you and not afraid to show it, hyping you up on all his socials and surprising you with flowers after your concert performances

He’s also very protective of you, knowing how mean and judgemental people can be, and he’s not afraid to stand up for you whenever he can

You two are definitely the celebrity power couple that all the fans love and find super cute

Idia

As much as he didn’t want to go to a social event, Idia was willing to attend just to see you perform

He starts malfunctioning as soon as he hears you sing; he can’t believe he’s with someone so talented and amazing

He’s happy for your success and knows how much you deserve it, even though it can be hard for him considering his antisocial inclinations

He absolutely becomes your biggest fan, no exaggeration

He’s the first to buy all of your merch, wears it proudly and puts up posters of you in his bedroom

Idia is a bit insecure about dating someone so famous and talented and beautiful and kind and every other amazing things that you are

So you’ll need to reassure him sometimes that you still love him and that he’s good enough for you

He’s super shy when you talk about him in interviews, but secretly it makes him so happy for you to acknowledge him as your boyfriend

If you want it, he’ll even offer to help you out with things like editing for music videos or building a website for your brand

Will force himself to go to your concerts, as long as he can sit in the vip box alone with Ortho as the two of them cheer you on

Azul

The first time he hears you sing at the VDC, he’s of two minds about it

First and most obvious, he’s excited for this new opportunity for the both of you

Determined to help you get famous (not just so you can help promo his businesses)

Encourages you strongly when you start getting offers from companies

He’s also just very proud of you for how far you’ve made it just by yourself (you refused his resources, much to his dismay)

He does love how hard you work and truly feels you’re one of the only people who match his drive

At the same time

You’re his partner, and it’s hard for him to watch all these people thirst after you, once you become famous lmao

He loves you and it’s a bit difficult to feel like he has to share you with the rest of the world

Lowkey a bit scared that one day you’ll meet another cool celebrity and decide they’re a better match for you than an octopus

He’ll be okay once you reassure him that you’re not going anywhere

Azul supports you every step of the way, still taking time out of his busy schedule to come see you at your shows or making dinner reservations at his own restaurants

Malleus

Lilia would always speak of you being a great singer but Malleus had never actually heard you sing until the VDC

Immediately fell more in love (if that was even possible)

Your voice and demeanour were so captivating, you were truly lovely in that moment (not that you weren’t always in his mind)

He knows you’ll get offers from companies, he’s so sure of your talent and absolutely wants you to get all the recognition you deserve

He’s happy when your music starts to become more and more famous because people are finally seeing you as wonderfully he does

You deserve to be admired, as long as no one gets too close

No matter how famous you are, you’re still his after all - though few rarely test their luck with you, your boyfriend is Malleus Draconia after all

You’re quick to tell them off, anyway

Being busy with Briar Valley, Malleus doesn’t always have time to come see you in concert

But he does when he can, and he’s sure to make his visit extra special

You definitely become a beloved celebrity of Briar Valley, with all the people loving you as the royal consort, but also because of your talent and music

#twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #twst #twisted wonderland

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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

ㅤㅤmike schmidt x nanny!f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.5k

summary: juggling your role as abby's nanny, tensions rise as mike's fixation on the past leads to a heated argument between the two of you. unspoken emotions linger, pushing both you and mike to the breaking point.

warnings: some arguing, tension, piv, oral (reader receiving)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

A soft knock is enough for Mike to stir in his sleep but not enough to wake him. Abby is drawing happily in her room, content for now after you bribed her with chicken nuggets and a lengthy story time to come after. She’s been missing Mike. And she’s been wanting to go to work with him. You’re not sure how much longer you can tempt her to stay at home instead of going to the pizzeria.

You close the door, a soft click following suit. He’s still sound asleep, completely unaware of your nearing presence. He asked you to wake him up. But it’s hard when he looks so peaceful. The sounds of birds and crickets reach your ear. You sigh. How long was he going to chase the past?

“Mike,” you say gently. “Time to go.”

His brows furrow, a murmur falling from his lips. With a smile you shake your head, the bed creaks as you take a seat. “Come on dummy,” you pinch his cheek and his eyelids flutter. “You’re going to be late.”

“So close,” he mutters, his head moving to rest on your lap. Your heart jumps. All you want to do is thread your fingers through his hair and keep him exactly where he is but you know it’s not likely. As soon as he’s fully awake he’ll pull up his walls. “Can you help me take off my poster from the ceiling?”

As he talks his lips move above your thigh, the soft fabric of your sweats leaving little to the imagination. “Why?”

“Gonna take it to work,” his voice is hoarse with sleep.

A sudden annoyance prickles over your skin, heat building in your stomach— Again with the dreams. Again with wanting to change the past. You’ve been working for him for months now (though can you really say you’ve been working for him when he hasn’t been paying you?) and he’s always been the same. You understand. You really do. But Garett isn’t here anymore, Abby is—you are.

“No, Mike,” you say, your eyes following his sharp jawline dusted with a bit of stubble. He stirs a bit, legs moving underneath the covers one leg pops out. You swallow. It’s unbelievable the things he doesn’t notice about the people around him. His eyes finally open and you lean back, you’re not a fan of the angle. “Look, the poster is on the damn ceiling. What do you want me to do? Carry you on my shoulders?”

“I was thinking the opposite.”

“Whatever you have in mind my answer is still no,” you eye the book on the bedside table. “You shouldn’t be sleeping on the job, you know that.”

“It’s called decorating,” he answers with a hint of annoyance laced into his voice. Well, he’s not the only one. He peels himself away from your lap and leans against the wall, you miss the heat of him already. “Besides what do you care about what I do during the job?”

“That place gives me the creeps. I’d prefer it if you’re fully awake.”

Mike sighs and stretches, the soft fabric of his shirt sliding up, a sliver of skin shows. Your knees brush against one another. It almost feels like you’re kids just hanging out with the parents still sleeping. It’s reminiscent, in a way. He runs a band over his face.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Too late for that.”

“I’ll pay you with my next paycheck promise.”

You turn to him, eyes narrowing, “Don’t change the subject. You know I don’t care about any of that at this point. It’s been months, Mike. I would be gone if that was what I only cared about.”

He seems distraught by your answer, even more so than normal. “I... I know that. But you're always here, looking after Abby, taking care of the house. . . I want you to have a life and not be stuck here for Abby’s sake.”

Ouch. Have a life? You don’t think Mike realizes that he basically shoved a knife in your chest.

You slide off of the bed, your heart beats quick, a bit too quick for comfort. “Sorry that me helping out is a sign that I have nothing better to do,” you snap. You hear the start of an apology escaping his lips, both feet touching the ground as he contemplates if he should get up or not. “And if you’re so guilty about me being here maybe you should be here yourself.”

The regret settles even before you leave the room. You know he’s going to be thinking about what you said and twist it into the worst possible meaning his brain can fathom—which can be quite dark knowing Mike.

You’re halfway down the hall, heading to the kitchen when Mike catches up to you. He takes hold of your wrist, slightly tugging you back until he’s got your full attention. You give it to him. Eyes fluttering as you find it hard to look into his eyes. He’s too expressive. You hate being able to see every emotion flickering in them, and likeways you’re scared he can read you just as clearly.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Oh, you’ve never heard him this mad before. Your eyes drop to where he’s holding you, his fingers an iron vice around your wrist. Your pulse races, the tips of your ears warm. His gaze follows where you’re staring, you expect him to let go but he doesn’t, instead, he squeezes harder, his thumb following the vein on the inside of your wrist. “Is this why you’re here? To play hero to my life?”

Your eyes narrow, “Fuck off, Mike,” you yank your wrist away, a bit of skin catching on his nail. It stings. “Just go to work. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You had just dropped off Abby to school and promptly doing the dishes before you head out. You didn’t need to wash the dishes perse, but you were hoping Mike would show up before you left. Alas, it was almost noon, and still no signs of him. Not even a phone call. Which he would usually do if he was coming back later than normal.

You two did end the conversation quite nastily, so you guess you shouldn’t be too surprised that he hasn’t shown up, hoping that you’d leave before he came back.

A bit too aggressively, you knead the sponge until suds appear. He’s a moron. A complete idiot to think that you were only around just out of pity. His words stung and biting back probably wasn’t the best solution. Shaking your head, you grab a plate and rub it hard enough to potentially peel off the enamel coating.

“Stupid,” you murmur, finding a bit of relief in letting the words slip. “Stupid, idiot, moron—”

“You shouldn’t do the dishes if it makes you that angry.”

Your turn with a jerk, “Mike!” A plate slips, crashing into the sink, without even thinking another cuss drops from your mouth and you dunk your hand into the water to grab it. Just as your fingers graze the sharp pointed ceramic, Mike yanks your hand out of the water.

“Are you crazy?” he says surprisingly calm, as if he’s to tired to raise his voice or show panic within the words. “Just leave it, I’ll clean it later.”

Your chest heaves, he holds your wrist vastly differently compared to last night. Eyes wide, you feel the rise and fall of your chest, his gaze momentarily follows the movement before sliding his hand to your elbow. A shudder runs up your spine, your breath coming in short pants, your fingers curl into your palm.

“Sorry,” he murmurs letting go. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re still holding me, Mike.” He looks tired. The skin under his eyes darker than usual, he even looks a bit beat up. Closing his lips, he swallows thickly and lets go. Your hands are still dripping water, you wipe them dry against your shirt. “Rough night?”

He shakes his head, “No. Just the normal. Dreams were a bit rougher than usual.”

“You took your poster then?��

His lips press into a thin line and he takes a seat. Fighting the urge to close your eyes, you bring out a bowl, milk, and stale store-brand froot loops. His lips tentatively twitch into a small smile.

“It’s Abby you’re taking care of,” he says. “I can look after myself.”

“Can you?”

He ignores the subtle bite in your remark and pours himself a bowl of cereal. He doesn’t eat immediately, letting the colorful hoops sit there for a while, he clears his throat. “I got my paycheck.”

“Congrats.”

“I can pay you.”

“I guess you can.”

His eyes flash, brows furrowing, “Why are you being so difficult?”

“I’m—” Once again his words hit a nerve. Difficult. Something you often heard right before people left you. Difficult difficult difficult. “I’m not.”

Mike shifts and stands straighter, your eyes drift to the cereal—must be soggy as hell now. “I know,” he says barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I know you’re not. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” You lie. “And about the other thing, you can pay me later. Get Abby a new set of crayons, she’s going so fast through those things that I’m scared she’s just swallowing them,” you smile weakly as you get up. “I’ll be back before your shift, okay? And I think I should take some time off for a little while.”

“What?” Mike stands up with you, his shoulders rise, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “Why? Is. . . Is it because of last night? I’m—”

“You’re sorry I know,” you sigh. “It has nothing to do with you. I just. . . I just need to think for a while. I. . just a day, okay, just give me a day.”

His demeanor changes, his shoulders drop, his eyes grow soft. He nods and you take that as your cue to leave. You grab your back off the couch and he follows you to the hallway. With your hand around the doorknob, you hear him one more time.

“I care about you, you know,” he calls out and you swear you hear the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I don’t show it but I do.”

You don’t know how to answer him without bursting like a bubble, exposing every setting emotion that rolls in your gut. Your fingers tighten around the metal and you nod without looking.

“Red crayon, please.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a small smile playing on your lips, “Abby, it’s literally right in front of you.” She just shrugs and extends her tiny palm towards you. “Fine you little artist, here you go.”

You place the crayon in her open palm, she slowly closes her fingers around it and starts coloring vigorously. With a smile, your eyes move back to the TV, you’re not sure what’s happening on the screen. The picture on the screen blurs a little, static growing and growing until a soft creak of the floor catches your attention. You turn to see Mike leaning against the doorframe. You wonder how long he’s been there, watching you and his sister occupy the normalcy of the living room.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

Abby doesn’t bother to look up, too entranced in her drawing. Mike sighs as his gaze lingers on his sister. “Abby can you give us a minute?”

She blinks before she looks up, suddenly startled, her curious eyes flits between the two of you. “Are you two gonna fight?”

“No, Abby,” Mike answers, exasperated.”We’re not going to fight. Just. . . talk.”

Surprisingly Abby leaves without much protest. She gathers her things and heads to her room, while walking past Mike, he softly ruffles her air. She sticks her tongue out and glares at him before disappearing completely. His face falls a bit upon meeting your gaze. You pat the empty seat next to you but he ends up sitting on the coffee table instead, your knees brushing together, he levels you with a soft look.

“She’s going to ask questions you know.”

“I don’t care,” he says hastily. “I do think we need to talk.”

“Fine then. . . talk.”

He seems unsure of himself now, “I know you’re mad about me because of what I said but I didn’t mean it—”

“It’s not that,” you cut in. “Sure I was hurt, but that’s not what frustrates me about you, Mike. You have to let go. . . of him. He’s gone, Abby’s here.”

He suddenly stands up, taking you by surprise, heads towards the kitchen. Your pulse rises as your eyes remain glued to the TV. In the distance, you hear him, “You don’t get to say that to me,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

You hear the fridge door opening and closing. You know he’s doing it simply to get away from you, from what you’re saying. You follow him, anger warming your cheeks, you find him leaning back against the kitchen counter, knuckles turned white while holding the edge.

“So just because I didn’t lose a sibling I don’t get to talk about it?” you scoff. “That’s bullshit.”

“You don’t know what’s it like to lose someone and for it to be out of your control.” He’s shaking slightly, shoulders rounding as he speaks. “I need to know who did it. And I’m close, so fucking close.”

You shake your head and finally, with a burst of bravery, you hold his face between your hands. His mouth closes shut. Your chest feels as if someone filled it to the brim with rocks. It’s heavy and overwhelming. You can barely breathe as you fix your gaze on him. Without even realizing you begin to stroke the apple of his cheeks, you swear he leans into your touch, your bodies growing closer.

“Listen to me, Mike,” your voice trembles. “If you don’t stop you’ll end up losing everyone who cares about you.”

His hand closes over yours, “Does that include you too?”

“What if it did?”

“I can’t. . .” he chokes. “I can’t stop.”

You pull away, body feeling chilled in his absence. You blink away the tears, swallow the persistent knot in your throat. It was an empty threat. You know you won’t leave, no matter how insistently you implied that you might. “Then I think you should go. You’re going to miss your shift.”

“Fuck my shift.”

You feel the soft touch of his lips. It grows violent, smothering. You moan eagerly into his mouth, your wrist caught between his fingers, he pulls you closer. Mike slips his tongue between your lips and tastes you eagerly. Arousal pools between your legs, your stomach bottoming out as he whimpers and licks himself deeper into you. You melt against him. Your nipples tight and tingling with every lick.

His hand curls around the back of your neck, the gentle pressure making you break away, “Mike—” you whisper, eyes teary. He licks the seam of your lips and teases your bottom lip with his teeth. Slack-jawed, you tilt your head back, he eagerly dips down and closes his lips around your neck. “Take me to your room.”

He’s gentle. So painfully gentle that you fear your heart might stop at any given moment. The back of his fingers trace the contours of your body slowly, gooseflesh rising in his wake, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes deep breaths as he lifts your shirt. Your eyes roll when his hands immediately cup both your breasts, thumbs toying with your pebbled nipples. The pads of his thumbs smooth over them slowly, it’s almost ticklish. A shiver runs up your spine and you gasp, he sucks the air that escapes your lungs, slanting his lips over yours.

The seam of your panties gather with slick. You desperately rub your thighs together. Heat blossoms over patches of skin, Mike sucks on your bottom lip and toys with the waistband of your sweats. “Can I taste you?”

“Yes,” you pant, the thought of his tongue parting you making you near delirious. Your breath hitches.

He gives your cheek a quick peck, “You have to get on the floor. My bed is too loud.”

“Just how hard are you planning to fuck me?”

His eyes darken, “Until you’re a mess.”

You drop to the ground, Mike following you close with kisses down the column of your neck. Your legs spread and he tugs down your sweats, revealing your soaked cunt. His chest heaves. You follow the movement of his tongue as it swipes over his bottom lip, his thumb dips between your folds and moves up to brush over your clit. Your legs twitch, electricity coursing over your burning skin.

“You have to keep quiet,” he groans, fingers slipping inside. Your head drops back, your back arches. A violent breath of air rips from your lungs and before it can become louder, you cover your mouth with both hands. “Good,” he murmurs, breath tickling your throbbing clit. Mike tentatively closes his lips around it, sucking, he pushes his fingers deeper.

Your throat constructs in of itself. Waves of pleasure washing over you like warm grains of sand. The sounds coming out of you are downright sinful and with each thrust of his fingers it gets louder. Your insides clench around him and at the same time he curls his fingers, your eyes squeeze shut, your lips moving against the inside of your hand. Too good. It feels too good.

Without even noticing you had begun to grind your hips, the sensitive bundle of nerves pressing against his mouth harder. Mike moans wantonly into you, the sound coming out muffled. He moves his head side to side and flattens his tongue over your clit. Your fingers delve into the soft locks as you pull him closer.

He delves his tongue back and forth, rougher this time, faster. Your body goes rigid, forcing you to cry out into your hands as your orgasm takes you over. Sudden sparks of pleasure clash throughout your body, intensifying to unbelievable heights as he plays with your swollen nub. His mouth and fingers move endlessly until you’re gasping for air, shattered remnants of your desperate pleas mashed against your palm.

Mike glances up, eyes wild yet passionate with a cheshire-cat grin. His lips and jaw are soaked, glistening under the dim light. You feel your entire body motionless. He withdraws his fingers, licking them off one by one, he moves up your body and pushes his fingers between your lips. You swirl your tongue around them feverishly. Your cheeks unnaturally warm and heart thrumming fast against your ribcage.

He pulls his fingers out, gently cupping the underside of your chin, he rolls his hips. Your breath catches at the feel of his cock against your sopping core, you squeeze his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons on his skin.

Mike doesn’t bother to remove his clothes, instead, he slides his hand between your bodies and under his pants, pulling out his dripping cock, he aligns himself with your core. He pushes into you inch by inch, the sounds you make getting louder and louder—Mike covers your mouth with his hand. “‘Gotta keep silent,” he breathes into your skin.

You nod frantically, your gasp bouncing off of his palm when he bottoms out. A loud groan escapes his lips, eyes meeting yours as his lips part. At the sight you clench around him, a fresh gush of wetness coating his cock.

Mike moves slowly inside you, finding a deep, rhythmic, steady rhythm that carries you towards bliss. His hips sway sensually, his thrusts pushing against the deepest parts of you. His hands tangle into your hair, and his eyes meet yours with a softened gaze. His breath is at your neck, and a guttural moan escapes his lips as he moves against you.

“Does—Does it feel good?” you whimper.

“Feels amazing,” he breathes into your open mouth, hips drilling into you, relentless. “You’re so fucking wet—”

He guides both of your hands up your chest to your breasts, holding them subtly as you both explore each other’s bodies, his lips finding your neck and shoulders. Your fingers begin to move deftly over your hardened nipples.

Breaking eye contact, he moves his lips down your neck, pressing them against your collarbone. His hips move faster now, and his hands roam over your body. You squeeze your breasts as a wave of pleasure washes over you, spilling out uncontrolled moans and cries that are subdued by his mouth above yours. He swallows the sounds you make.

He presses himself in deeper, hips slamming into yours, you feel yourself quickly barreling to the edge. Your eyes tear up and his hand slips away from your mouth, down to your waist. You claw at his back, your toes curling. Mike breathes heavily against your skin, and his thrusts grow desperate. You lock eyes with him one last time before you come undone in his arms, your orgasm crashing around him—He quickly pulls out, making your breath hitch painfully at the loss of contact, he comes over your stomach. Cock sliding over the sweat-soaked skin.

“Shit,” he grunts. “Fuck—That. . . that felt amazing.”

Before you can answer he kisses you deeply. His tongue dances above yours, his hips still softly rolling as his cock softens. “Don’t go,” he whispers into your mouth, kissing you again. “Please don’t go.”

You thread your fingers into the damp locks that are scattered over the back of his head, you tug gently, his eyes fluttering for a moment, a puff of air sensually leaving his lips.

“I won’t,” you answer, nipping the corner of his chin. “Not sure I could even if I tried.”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x f!reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fanfiction #mike schmidt fanfic #fnaf fanfiction #five nights at freddy's fanfiction #josh hutcherson character fanfic #josh hutcherson characters fanfiction

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dizscreams · 1 year

Text

Show Off — Jack Champion ★

PAIRING: Jack Champion x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Jack showing off ur matching necklaces during an instagram live

A/N: “honestly i know u had a thought abt the instagram live one and i feel like with him you could do a lot with answering questions and then him going over to readers dresser and showing the necklace and maybe some fluff when reader comes back?” A LITTLE COLLAB FROM ME AND @ang3lik <33 I KNOW I HAD SAID INTERVIEW WHEN I CAME UP WITH THE IDEA so I hope you guys don’t mind that I switched it to a instagram live! I just couldn’t think of a way to start the interview idea I’m sorry :(

He toyed with the initial of your first name on the gold chain he wore around his neck while thinking of what to do. You weren’t at home with him, you were at work which he was very bummed out about. Luckily being in your room comforted him as he waited for you to arrive home.

He wasn’t snooping around or anything he just missed you and your bed was comfortable. Plus the room smelt like you and he liked admiring all the posters and decorations you had in your room.

He looked at the clock, it hadn’t changed from when he looked at it just 30 seconds ago. He groaned and kept scrolling through Instagram pretty bored out of his mind and not really paying attention to his feed. After thinking of what he could do he decided it might be a fun idea to go live. Why not? He’d never done one of his own before, well he’s never done one now that he’s gained popularity.

He made sure he looked presentable and looked at the ‘Go Live’ button. He wasn’t sure what he’d do, probably just talk to fans and hope it wasn’t boring. He had a feeling they’d eat it up though. Lately, it seemed he could breathe and everyone would go wild. It amused him to be completely honest.

He propped up his phone and sat against the headboard of your bed and pressed ‘Go Live’.

Once it started he awkwardly played with his hands waiting for people to join. It didn’t take long, in about 2-3 minutes there was already a bunch of people flooding the chat with ‘hi’s’ and ‘love you’s’ and a bunch of questions. They weren’t anything specific just about him and his job, he was grateful they weren’t too invasive.

user97027: hii jack! are you working on any new films right now??

He saw the comment as it quickly flashed by, “Yeah I am actually, I’ve been working on Freaky Tales and Everything’s Going to Be Great. So yeah, I’m excited for you guys to see those,” he said with a soft smile across his face.

user88992: did you always want to be an actor?

“Uh, it wasn’t really planned,” he chuckled, “just the day I found out you could get paid for acting and it was a legitimate job I was immediately on board,” he talked with his hands as he answered the question. He leaned forward with his eyes squinted a bit, trying to find another question.

user561183: Jack!! Who would you say inspires you the most?

“Oh man that’s a good question, who inspires me the most,” he repeated the question as he put his chin in his palm and lightly tapped his fingers across his cheek as he thought of a good answer. “I’d have to say my castmastes and my family definitely. Oh! And my girlfriend, of course. They’re all very supportive of me.”

He slightly laughed as a bunch of “awe’s” ran through the chat. He scanned through the chat, almost getting a little bored cause of how awkward he felt. It wasn’t uncomfortable for him he just wasn’t used to this but he liked talking with his followers nonetheless. As he was about to come up with an excuse to log off he saw a question that made his eyes light up.

user336473: what’s the initial on your necklace stand for?

He wasted no time in answering, “The initial on my necklace is my girlfriend’s! She actually has a matching one but it has my initial instead. I could probably show you guys, one second. She didn’t take it to work today” He explained as he got up, taking his phone with him, and excitedly waddled over to your vanity. Jack propped his phone on a little stand up mirror you had and gently took the piece of jewelry and held it up. “Isn’t it cute? I got these for us on our 6 month anniversary,” he told his viewers as he proudly smiled.

A knock on your door made him quip his head towards the entrance of your room, “Jack, you in there?” He looked at his camera whisper shouting a little “She’s backk! Hold on,” he then looked back at the door, “Come in!” he yelled.

Once he saw your figure opening the door a lovey smile adorned his face. He was head over heels for you and made no effort to hide it. “Oh hey babe, I was just showing them our matching necklaces.”

“Them?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

“Mhm, I’m on instagram live,” he softly grabbed your hand giving it a chaste kiss before bringing you in front of the camera. “Guys this is y/n my girlfriend, y/n these are my instagram followers,” he introduced with a goofy smile as he wrapped his hands around your waist and gave the back of your head a kiss.

You looked at the chat, which was gushing with comments about how cute you two were. It made you smile as you remember what he told you when you came in, “Wait, you were showing them our necklaces?”

“Yeah! Someone asked about it and I think I started rambling,” Jack explained as he toyed with the chain that was still in his hands suddenly getting an idea, “Can I put it on you?” He whispered into your hair so only you could hear. You nodded at his question not being able to contain the shy smile on your face as he let go of your waist and put your hair to rest on your left shoulder, giving you goosebumps. Once he made sure none of your hair would be in the way he undid the necklace and slowly put it around your neck. He made sure it was centered properly and closed the clasp, “Perfect,” he said as he gave a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“You’re such a show off, Jack,” you laughed at his shocked expression as he put a hand on his heart with a small scoff, “What?! Can you blame me for wanting to show you off? Look at you!” He told you as his signature goofy smile reappeared on his face causing you to laugh more. “No I guess not,” you smirked as you gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, causing him to get a little flustered. To be honest you both kinda forgot you were live, you were too busy wrapped up in each other, until Butters entered the room meowing so loud you and Jack snapped out of your love sick gazes and turned to him.

“Aw, what is it, Butters?” Jack asked as he went over and picked the cat up and cradled him like he was his baby, technically he was. Butters only answered with another meow causing you to pet him on the head, “I think he’s hungry,” you looked up at Jack. Another meow followed.

“Alright, I hear you Butters,” he turned back to the camera where he saw the chat freaking out about the adorable moment you two just shared, “We have to go but thank you all for joining. Byeee!” He disconnected the live and quickly put Butters down.

You looked up at him confused but didn’t get to say a word before Jack was kissing your lips. You kissed back and pulled away after a few moments. “What was that for?”

He shrugged, “I dunno, I’ve just been wanting to do it all day,” he said as he smirked. As he was leaning in for another, his movements got cut off by another loud meow from Butters. Jack groaned as he put his head on your shoulder and you laughed as you lifted his head up and slightly pushed Jack’s curls from out of his eyes before you kissed his forehead, “C’mon lets go,” You grabbed his hand and you followed Butters into the kitchen.

He had a lazy smile on his face with hearts in his eyes. This man was so whipped for you.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! I love this sm <33

tags: @ashlesys-blog @wekiamo @dizzyscreams

#not proofread #dizzy writes?! 😵‍💫#angel!! :)#jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #avatar the way of water #spider socorro

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

Text

Propaganda

Ronald Colman (Arrowsmith, Random Harvest, Prisoner of Zenda)—"God! Ronnie Colman! Wasn't he marvelous? He had the greatest movie technique I've ever known in my life!" -Vincent Price

James Dean (Rebel Without A Cause, East of Eden)—can i just say that while james dean was horrendously hot, he also had a i-want-to-pick-him-up-and-carry-him-around-in-my-pocket-slash-hoodie-and-feed-him-treats kind of vibe to him? maybe it was because he was only 5'7, or maybe it was because (to me, at least) he constantly looked like a sopping wet poor little meow meow, or maybe it's because his eyebrows looked like they were too big for him. whatever it was, i'm beginning to understand why people still have posters of him in their rooms.

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

James Dean propaganda:

Ronald Colman propaganda:

No one, not even Douglas Fairbanks, could match Ronald Colman's screen close-ups. They were marvellous because he had a beautiful face, and because he had a deep but gentle masculinity: the ideal of the dark Englishman. — Laurence Olivier

Ronnie became not just an actor for me, but a way of life. — Vincent Price

"I wanna give some propaganda for Ronald Colman! His face acting made him a star in the silent era but when the arrival of the talkie brought one megastar after another down to earth he was one of the only ones to become more popular due to his voice, and became the blueprint for the “mellifluous voiced Englishman” type that Laurence Olivier and James Mason would later become known for. And to prove it here he is reading Shakespeare"

"1920s heartthrob to 1930s matinée idol to 1940s silver fox Oscar winner to 1950s comedy radio star, this man could do it ALL. I feel he is unfairly neglected today despite his smile making it into P.G. Wodehouse novels and the knee-melting qualities of his voice making it into a Rodgers & Hammerstein musical. A women's college made him the winner in their hottest celebrity poll in 1942, and I am right there with them. He was by all accounts an absolutely lovely person, as well, but I recognize that this poll is about the hotness and I think that Ronald Colman deserves more recognition for being ridiculously handsome and doing heartbreaking face-acting and having weaponizable quantities of charm. Also he saved David Niven's life (according to the latter's memoir) by shooting a shark once. Very sexy of him."

He was a wonderful friend; steady, true, full of wisdom and humour. He was generous and completely unbitchy unlike so many actors. A great actor, the master of the understated playing, and one many people (including me) tried hard to copy. A glorious speaking voice, dirty great brown 'fan' eyes, a smile that lit up the whole of Beverly Hills, and a man who could give a lame dog or a struggling actor a lift with never a thought of self-congratulation. — David Niven

#james dean #ronald colman #round 3 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man

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annabelle--cane · 9 months

Text

it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

#prompted by Absolutely nothing #tma #marina marvels at life

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olderthannetfic · 2 months

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Genuine question that maybe's dumb but I just gotta ask: why can all sorts of fan content be monetized except for writing?

I have no issue writing for writing's sake, I've been working on fics since before I had a bank account, so it's not that I want to be paid for what I put out, but... why are writers the only ones who can't?

Artists can create posters and graphics and put them on sale on pretty much every website that offers the service, video editors/makers can make 40 minutes long videos with their theories, character analyses, etc, and as long as they're careful with not using too much of the copyrighted material, they can go ahead with monetization. I've seen craftier people making dolls out of the characters, or knitting blankets, or making glass ornaments inspired by the original material and putting them up for sale.

And then there's us, writing fics and getting hit with shit on all fronts.

And I know that there are writers that turn their fics into original works (the most famous Reylo writers are now all getting very good publishing deals, for what I can see, and they're doing well in the indie department too), but they did have to change crucial parts of their stories in order to be taken into consideration (names of characters and places, pieces of technology, etc), whereas artists can just "Hey, I made a booklet of drawings of characters from X franchise! It's up for sale!"

Oh anon... This comes up like once a month, and the answer is that:

Artists are so subject to legal action and have their accounts deleted off Etsy et al. constantly. It is simply bullshit to think they face no problems with monetizing even if fandom culture thinks it's fine and above board.

Nonfiction commentary is highly protected, whether it's analysis videos or analysis blogs. If you write your meta and try to sell it, you'll be fine. That has nothing to do with fic.

A lot of it is about historical precedent and rights holders who choose to go after one thing rather than another regardless of the actual law.

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ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

Icarus Part 2

Hello! This story is coming along quite nicely. This part originally was part of the first chapter, but it got so long I split it up for Tumblr.

Dustin hyperfixates sooo hard in this. Eddie gets annoyed.

Part 1

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Dustin leapt to his feet and handed the magazine to Eddie. “I do have their first album. It’s really good. My favorite is “Brother”. It’s just so touching.”

Steve bit his bottom lip and nodded, forcing himself not to look at Robin just then.

He came back with his Walkman and a pair of speakers. He got it all set up and pressed play. Then while they were listening to the CD, he dashed back to his room.

“I haven’t gotten their second album yet,” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran back. Moments later he came out with a couple of rolled posters.

“I have more of their posters in my dormroom but I bought these a few months ago and haven’t put them up yet.”

He unrolled one of them and it was the album cover blown up large. It had four men in long hooded coats and masks. There was definitely a color theme for each of the members of the band. The drummer was all in black, the guitarist in red, the bassist in blue, and the lead singer in white.

“What’s with the masks?” Robin asked, leaning over Steve’s shoulder.

Dustin bounced up and down. “That’s part of their personas. They’re fallen angels. Well, and titan. The bassist is named after the titan of the night sky, Astraeus. But all the others are named after angels.”

Eddie winced at the poster. “They’re a little much, don’t you think?”

“Like there aren’t other metal bands wear makeup or masks before them,” Dustin said rolling his eyes.

Eddie wrinkled his nose. He did know. It was actually something that was really prevalent in the genre for awhile. He just thought it was gimmicky and took away from the actual music.

Music that was coming out of Dustin’s Walkman in beautiful waves. That brought Eddie up short. They were good. Like amazingly good. “Whoa.”

Dustin beamed. “I know, right?”

Steve made a twisted kind of frown. “I mean it’s great if you like that sort of thing.”

Dustin whirled on Steve like a viper sensing its dinner. “Just because you don’t like metal, Steve,” he huffed in derision, “doesn’t mean that you can just dismiss it.”

Steve looked over at Eddie and rolled his eyes.

Eddie snorted. “Nobody is dismissing anything, Dusty. In fact I would say that what Steve said was anything but dismissive.”

“I just don’t know why you don’t like metal,” Dustin replied with a heavy sigh. “I know that if you just listened to it, you would like it.”

This time the look Steve shared was with Robin. “I’ve listened to a lot of metal, remember? You’re the one that hacked my radio so that I couldn’t change it off the metal station.”

Dustin snorted. “Well at least Simon and Shane have taste.”

Simon Olsen and Shane Kendrick were two friends of Steve’s that had bonded over Corroded Coffin playing over the speakers of the coffee shop. Another thing that Dustin had insisted on. But Steve wasn’t about to tell Eddie that. Together with Spencer Peters, the four of them were almost as tight as the Corroded Coffin boys.

Eddie himself was conflicted about their relationship, if he was honest. Yeah, it was great that Steve had friends outside of the Party, but at same time, he suspected that at least one of them was gay or bisexual and he worried that they would swoop in and take Steve off the market before Eddie got up the courage.

That was a problem for future Eddie, present Eddie had to redirect Dustin before he began screaming at Steve all the reasons he should join the masses of fans for Corroded Coffin and now apparently The Fallen. Steve had a migraine and Dustin’s ranting would only make it worse.

Eddie smacked his shoulder. “Am I still taking you out with me in June to see your mom when I go visit Uncle Wayne?”

Dustin was happy to change tracks, and Steve mouthed ‘Thank you’ to Eddie.

“Yes! You have to take me,” Dustin insisted. “Ma got me tickets to see The Fallen in Indy while I’m there and I don’t want to miss it.”

“The band is going back on tour again so soon?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side. “I thought they just got off a tour.”

“They did,” Dustin agreed. “But according to the press release, they said that they were trying to get as much hype for their current album as possible because music sales were down all over the place.”

Eddie nodded. He could see that. With a band as new as The Fallen, if they didn’t keep up the momentum they could lose a lot of fans between their first and second album. There was a reason a band’s second album is often called a ‘sophomore slump’ and if these guys wanted to avoid that, that meant touring nonstop for their second album.

He wished them well...provided they didn’t steal Dustin away from him and the guys. He turned to Steve. “So what are you and Robin going to be this summer? Anything fun?”

Robin scoffed. “No. They’ve got us back on tour, too. New management, they want us to shadow this band and basically make sure that everything they want is provided.”

Eddie and Dustin grimaced.

“That sucks!” Dustin huffed. “You guys just got home, why are they making you go so soon? Don’t they believe in breaks? Sheesh!”

Steve hugged him close. “I’m sorry, bud. I talked to your mom, though and she thinks that when you go back for the summer, she’s willing to let you apply for MIT for your masters.”

Dustin’s eyes lit up. “Wait, seriously?” Claudia had always been fearful that he would get into trouble, but she had seen how much work he had put into his school work and how much Steve didn’t need to be looking after the almost twenty year old.

Steve nodded. “Yup. That’s why she got you the tickets as a way to soothe her nerves a bit.”

Eddie looked over Dustin’s shoulder at Steve and they shared a sad smile. They would miss Dustin when he went out to Boston, but they knew he would shine out there. And that was worth more than all the stars in the sky.

Eddie left soon after, stating his own fatigue and even though Steve was sad to see him go, he wanted to sleep for the next three months. Dustin was staying over at his girlfriend’s that night which left him alone with Robin.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost ten and he looked up at Robin with his big puppy dog eyes and pouted.

She let out a long sigh. “Fine. You can go to bed. Provided you actually get a shower and brush your teeth. By that time it should be late enough for you to just crash.”

Steve sighed, but nodded his agreement. He got unsteadily to his feet and ambled over to his bedroom. Robin followed close behind.

She leaned against the door frame, watching Steve gather his things for his shower.

“So Dustin is a Fallen fan, huh,” she muttered.

Steve shrugged. “I guess so. This is the first of me hearing about it, so it must be new.”

She licked her lips. “And you aren’t worried?”

He stopped what he was doing and straightened up. “Why? Do you think there is a reason to be?”

Robin crossed her arms. “I mean his nickname growing up was ‘genius child’. It’s possible he could be a problem.”

Steve scoffed. “He’s also the one that harped on us being a couple for a few years there.”

She winced. She had even told him that she was gay and he still wouldn’t let it go. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

He walked over to the en suite bathroom and turned on the hot water. “I love that kid, but he has a few major blind spots when it comes to actual people.”

“All right,” she said, nodding. “I’ll tighten up the defenses, but I think you’re right.”

“I am right some of the time,” Steve scoffed. “You do know that, don’t you?”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I guess even a broken clock can be right twice a day.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her and then began to strip. Robin just waved at him and wandered over to her side of the apartment. Well to call it that was an understatement on its sheer size. It would be better described as a penthouse.

It only had three bedrooms, but it had three bathrooms, a full sized kitchen, an actual dinning area, a living room. Steve’s studio was off to the side and always kept locked. It even had a god damned bio lock that only Robin and he could open.

He hated the secrecy and all the cloak and dagger bullshit but it was absolutely imperative.

But the room was massive and no one had clocked that as unusual. Steve sighed deeply. It was what it was and what it was, sucked.

****

To say that Eddie was annoyed was an understatement. The whole flight to Indy and the long drive to Hawkins was filled with nothing but talk about The Fallen and their latest album. It was shooting up the charts faster than Eddie could guess the Metallica song from a few hummed bars. Which was pretty damned fast.

Steve and Robin had already gone, so Eddie didn’t even have his favorite distraction when Dustin got on his latest hyperfixation.

Then the other shoe dropped when he pulled up to the Henderson’s driveway.

“You’re coming with me, right?” the little bastard asked, all pouty lip and puppy dog eyes.

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to go with you?” Eddie huffed, more than little pissed the punk dared to ask.

Dustin rolled his eyes and started counting off on his fingers. “El and Mike won’t get in in time, Max and Lucas already have plans that night, her mom is getting married for the third time that day, and Will doesn’t like metal. He’s still a staunch alt rock fan.”

Eddie winced. And with Steve and Robin off to parts unknown, he really was Dustin’s last greatest hope. But he wasn’t going to give in that easy. He was going to make the butthead work for it. He crossed his arms and pouted.

“I don’t know, man,” Eddie said, wrinkling his nose, “I’m starting to wonder if Corroded Coffin is even on your radar anymore.”

Dustin’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s not true! Corroded Coffin is my number one. How could even suggest that?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to list the reasons alphabetically or chronologically?”

Dustin’s mouth closed with a snap. He ducked his head. “I haven’t stopped talking about The Fallen since you picked me up from Steve’s, huh?”

“Nope!”

He let out a slow breath. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m just so excited for this concert. According to Ma the tickets were really hard to get and now I don’t have anyone to go with me and I–” He sniffled.

“It’s just you know how you get with new things,” Eddie pointed out.

Dustin nodded. “I know. But I promise I still love Corroded Coffin. When are you guys going back into the studio?”

Eddie smiled for the first time that trip. “After I get back from visiting Wayne, I’ve got a couple songs already lined up for it.”

“And how many of those songs are about Steve?” Dustin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie cheeks colored a deep red. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll go to that concert of yours and you don’t mention to anyone that I write songs about Steve, deal?”

Dustin tilted his head to side and looked up, tapping his lips thoughtfully. He stuck out his hand and Eddie shook it.

“Deal.”

****

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @y4r3luv

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #the fallen

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senp1i · 5 months

Note

Hey I asked for the previous yunjin fic and I have another for a male reader x her it’s like when all of them go to New York reader takes yunjin to his home town of Boston and they have dinner with his parents and after they go back to a hotel in New York and have a bath together then have fluffy sex thank you

It had been a whirlwind few weeks for LE SSERAFIM promoting their latest comeback album all across Asia with their tour ‘FLAME RISES’, And even flying around the States for their abroad schedules. Though the girls were energized seeing their international fans, the grueling schedule was starting to take its toll.

One evening after wrapping up their final work day for the week in New York City, Yunjin collapsed exhausted on one of the couches of her and her members hotel suite.

"I don't know how much more I can take, unnie," she murmured to the leader of Lesserafim,

Kim Chaewon, who patted her back in a way she hoped was soothing, even though she's just as tired, if not more.

As the two groupmates are relaxing on the couch, Yunjin's phone suddenly lit up with a text from her boyfriend Y/N, who had come to several of the group's shows to support his girl.

"Wanna get away for some R&R this weekend? My parent's want to meet you" He wrote.

Yunjin perked up at the thought of seeing Y/N and the chance to recharge. "Unnie, do you think the company would let me take a couple days off if I went with Y/N to visit his family?" She asked Chaewon with pleading puppy eyes.

to which Chaewon smiled knowingly. "I think after this week, you've earned a little break. Let me talk to the managers."

A few hours later, everything was approved. Yunjin excitedly called Y/N to share the good news and make plans to fly out to Boston together the next day to meet his parents.

On the flight, Yunjin dozed contentedly against Y/N's shoulder for the entirety of the hour long flight, already feeling some of her tiredness disappear in her boyfriend’s comforting presence.

Touching down in Boston, Y/N drove quietly as the radio played a random tune while Yunjin finished her nap a little longer. Pulling up outside his family home, Yunjin took a deep breath, suddenly nervous as she walked up to the front door,

But all her worries vanished the moment she was pulled into a warm hug by Y/N's mother,

"Welcome, welcome! It's so nice to finally meet our son's girlfriend. I've heard so much about you!" She says genuinely.

And more into the night over a much needed home-cooked meal, Yunjin charmed Y/N's parents with stories of LE SSERAFIM and her own fun from her opera days. She was touched by their warm hospitality, feeling instantly at ease.

Later, curled up on the sofa, Yunjin sighed contentedly in Y/N's arms. "Thank you for bringing me here babe. This is for real what I needed to recharge."

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Anything for you, babe."

But as the night deepened, Yunjin began to feel the effects of her long travels catching up to her. "I think it's time we turned in, what do you say?" Y/N smiled down at her tired form nestled against his chest.

"Mom set you up in the guest room, but you're welcome to bunk with me if you'd like."

Truth be told, the idea of curling up beside Y/N under cozy blankets was far more appealing than sleeping alone.

"I'd like that," Yunjin replied softly. Hand in hand they made their way upstairs, Y/N pointing out family photos, his goofy smiles and random shots along the walls before reaching the door to his childhood bedroom.

The house had a vibe that was uniquely Y/N. Football posters and vinyl's lined the walls, knickknacks all over the place on the shelves.

She smiled to see photos of the two of them mixed with pictures of his past, of him growing up, of him playing and yada yada.

Stepping inside, Yunjin ran her hand along the old, scratched wood of his desk, imagining a younger Y/N hunched over doing homework.

The bed was neatly made, with his favorite colored sheets and 3 pillows, almost inviting her to lay on it.

Y/N watched her explore with adoring eyes, always loving being able to share parts of himself with her. "It's not a lot, but it's home i guess," he says with a shrug and a chuckle.

Yunjin turned to him, cupping his face in her hands. "It tells me so much about the great man my boyfriend is. I feel like I know you even better coming here."

Leaning in, their lips met in a soft kiss filled with care, trust and understanding.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Yunjin moved to unpack a few items from her bag as Y/N changed into his sleep clothes.

The familiar routine of her nightly routine brought her comfort. Sliding under the covers, she sighed contentedly as Y/N's arm curled around her slim waist, drawing her close against the solid planes of his body. Their breaths and heartbeats syncing as sleep takes over them from the long journey of the day

Sunlight was filtering through the curtains when Yunjin woke up the next morning. For a moment she was disoriented, not recognizing where she was. Then the memories of the previous day flooded back mixed with a rush of gratitude and happiness.

Rolling over, she saw Y/N still sleeping peacefully beside her. His features soft and slacking in sleep, lips slightly ajar as he snored softly.

Reaching out, Yunjin gently brushed back a lock of hair from his forehead, letting her fingers linger tracing the lines of his cheekbone, the curve of his lips.

Sensing her touch, Y/N began to stir, blinking awake to smile warmly up at her. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured in a sleep-husky, velvety voice that sent a jolt through her spine.

Leaning in, their lips met in a lazy kiss conveying all the love and affection they felt.

As the kiss deepened, getting sloppier, Yunjin felt the familiar pulls of desire stirring in her abdomen.

It had been too long since they'd fucked, both of their schedules keeping them way too busy.

Y/N seemed to sense her rising horniness, as his hands began to roam with confidence over her curvy body still under the blanket and her sleep clothes.

A soft sigh escaped Yunjin's lips feeling his hands, her body arching into his on its own, wanting more contact.

Y/N took the invitation, flipping himself and her so she was under him, without breaking their kiss.

Through the fabric of her clothes, she could feel his morning wood pressing against her thigh, stirring a fresh wave of horniness in her.

Breaking the kiss breathlessly and swollen, Yunjin looked up at Y/N with lusty eyes. "Fuck me," she said, her own voice raspy.

That was all the initiative Y/N needed as he dunked in kissing her again, tongue sliding through her parted lips as his hands moved in tandem, taking her clothes off.

Yunjin shivered as the cold morning air touched her bare legs, tits and arms, nipples hardening to peaks.

She helped take his own clothes off, eager as fuck to feel his muscles against her.

At last as his boxer got tossed across the room, Yunjin wrapped her legs around his waist, while grabbing his dick and inserting it inside her dripping cunt.

Both moaning at finally joining after so long without sex, Y/N stayed still, blissed out feeling her tight, dripping hole clench his dick so snugly even after taking him a billion times.

Under him, Yunjin squirmed, impatient for him to fuck her stupid. "Please… fucking move," she begged, raking her nails down his back encouragingly.

With a hum in response, Y/N started to rock his hips in a slow, deep pace still a bit hazy having just woken up.

Lost in the feeling, they moved together lazily.

Yunjin met Y/N pump for pump, taking him fully to the hilt and clenching tighter with each thrust. The slapping of his balls hitting her ass mingled with their moans filled his small room.

Y/N began to redouble his efforts, picking up pace as his hips snap powerfully as he chased his and Yunjin's orgasm.

Reaching down, his fingers started rubbing Yunjin's clit in circles. That was all it took to break her, back arching off the mattress as jolts after jolts wracked her body.

Her walls clenching vice-like around Y/N's dick still pounding her into his mattress relentlessly, pulling his own orgasm from him with a groan.

Ropes after ropes of hot semen spurt inside her, painting Yunjin's inner walls white, as he fucked her through the aftershocks together, in a blissed out haze.

Collapsing in a sweaty, tired mess, they took a few moments to catch their breaths.

Yunjin turned her head lazily to press a kiss to Y/N's sweaty shoulder, murmuring lovey dovey shit. And him responding with a lazy dopey smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.

"That was fucking amazing. I missed being with you like this so much," Y/N mumbled sighing, as he ran his fingers up and down Yunjin's side.

She hummed in agreement, snuggling closer against his chest listening to the frantic thumps of his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. His arms encircled her holding her close.

Yunjin stretched luxuriously in the bed against his chest, enjoying the post-sex glow before reality set back in.

Glancing at Y/N beside her, having rolled off, she smiled at his messed up, lazy look. "Not a bad way to start the day, huh?" she teased, tracing idle patterns on his chest, As he chuckles.

But the spell is broken as A knock and his mom's muffled voice reminded them of breakfast waiting, "Kids, you up? Breakfast is ready whenever you are,"

Yunjin's stomach rumbled in agreement. "Food does sound good. And your Mom's cooking is no joke," she whispered to Y/N grinning,

"We'll be down in a bit, mom, thanks!" Y/N called back chuckling as he pats Yunjin's flat stomach after hearing the rumble, before rolling from the bed to begin gathering their clothes.

Over a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, bacon and fruits, Yunjin chatted animatedly with his parents about their plans for the day.

"I was hoping to show Yunjin around some of my favorite spots, maybe catch a Sox game if the timing works out?" Y/N said with a mouthful of pancakes.

His dad grinned. "Take my car, it'll be easier than public transports with your schedule. And here, take some cash - I insist on treating my future daughter-in-law to a nice lunch out." he says passing car keys and some cash to Y/N.

Yunjin ducked her head, cheeks warming at the endearing term, far beyond grateful for the way Y/N's family welcomed her since the start of yesterday to now.

"Thank you so much for your generosity and hospitality Mr. and Mrs L/N," she said with a smile as Y/N's hand found hers under the table, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Once the breakfast came to an end, Yunjin and Y/N set off to explore the city Y/N grew up in.

Their first stop was the harbor, which was filled seagulls and fishing boats, not to mention the crowds of people.

Yunjin leaned over the railing to take it all in, breathing in the sea air, genuinely feeling the refreshment after months of being shut indoors and traveling to buildings, stadiums and back.

"It's so peaceful here," she murmured with a contented sigh.

Y/N slipped his arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. "This is nice huh? I used to come here to…. Think, relax, play, u name it." He says with a slight laugh as he tilts his head and looks at her

Turning in his arms, Yunjin smiled up at her loving boyfriend "Yeah? It really is nice.. Thank you, like really.. you know, for sharing your special places with me." She says, and the response she gets in the smile Y/N gives her more than any word he could’ve said.

And then as the time goes their next stop happens to be walking through the Boston Commons, taking in the leaves and families enjoying their afternoon.

Yunjin spotted a street performer juggling and doing tricks, laughing, she turns to Y/N,

"You'd give him a run for his money," she teased Y/N, who makes a faux hurt face, "puhlease, my juggling skills are elite, thank you very much."

As they continued on, Yunjin spotted a food truck selling crepes. "Ooh, can we try one? I'm starving." She says dramatically,

Making Y/N chuckle, "Sureee, Go pick the flavors." After paying, they stroll around, finding a bench to eat, while feeding each other bites and laughing at the mess they're making.

Yunjin savored these carefree moments away from the pressures of being an idol, the constant scrutiny and the lack of privacy, just enjoying life with the person she loved and adored.

Soon Their afternoon started winding down, with catching the last bit of a Red Sox game from the box seats courtesy of Y/N's dad's connections, and of course Yunjin’s status,

Yunjin cheered alongside the loud and roaring Boston fans, completely entertained by the atmosphere.

As the sun began to set, Y/N drove them to a hole in the wall near the waters.

Over plates of pasta, garlic bread and red wine, they talked about everything and nothing at the same time, laughing and joking like a bunch of tweens.

And after finishing their food, they wandered through the Public Garden, pausing to admire the swans gliding thru the waters. Under one of the trees, with little to no people nearby,

Y/N turns to Yunjin, taking her hands in his, and softly kissing her palm.

"Thank you for coming here with me babe, for letting me share this part of myself, even though you have this insane schedule to follow, " He says with a chuckle,

“I mean it really, I love you” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing her, soft and gentle.

And as the night grew colder they finally, got back in the car and headed home, fingers laced together on top of the console as Y/N drove them back to his childhood home,

but all too soon their little weekend getaway was coming to an end, Y/N and Yunjin’s flight being at midnight to fly back to New York,

Yunjin bids a sad goodbye to Y/N's parents, promising to visit again soon. His mom hugs her tight. "You're always welcome here, sweetheart."

In the car on the way to the airport, Yunjin rests her head on Y/N's shoulder. "Thank you for the best weekend. I really needed this."

Y/N kisses the top of her head. "I'm glad. I'll miss you."

At the airport, they linger in a hug. "I booked a suite at your hotel in New York. Want to come over after we land?" Y/N asks.

Yunjin smiles. "I'd love that."

They fly back to JFK, taking an Uber straight to the hotel.

There, Y/N checks into the lavish suite as Yunjin texts her manager and her members that she'll be with Y/N for the night.

Inside the suite, Yunjin sighs. "This place is amazing." she says, as She wraps her arms around Y/N's waist from behind, resting her head against his back. "Thank you for doing this."

Y/N turns in her arms, caressing her cheek. "You deserve to relax, Want to take a bath?"

In the massive bathroom, Y/N runs warm water into the jacuzzi tub as Yunjin lights candles and dumps bath bombs into it.

They undress slowly, giving each other gentle kisses.

Once Naked, Yunjin sinks into the bubbles, leaning back against Y/N's bare chest with a relaxed hum as his arms wrap around her. "This is perfect," she murmurs.

They soak in silence, Y/N occasionally pressing kisses to Yunjin's neck and shoulders.

His hands slide lazily over her skin, rememorizing her curves.

Yunjin turns her head to meet Y/N's lips in a deep kiss.

His hands move to cup her tits, thumbs teasing her nipples until she's whimpering into his mouth.

"Y/N…" she says his name breathlessly.

She reaches back to grasp his growing dick, stroking him to his full length.

Y/N groans, biting her shoulder gently as his fingers find her clit.

She gasps at the contact, grinding into his hand and pushing back against his hard on. "Please, I need you inside me…"

Y/N lifts her wihtout a sweat out of the tub, laying her on the plush bathmat.

He settles between her thighs, kissing down her body lazily until his tongue replaces his thumb, lapping at her slcik pussy lips.

Yunjin cries out, raking her fingers through his hair to hold him against her as the tension coils tighter.

When she orgasms, her back arches off the tiles, Y/N laps up her nectar like a starving man.

Once her orgasm subsides, Y/N positions himself at her pussy.

"Look at me," he murmurs, pushing in slowly inch by inch until he's fully sheathed.

Yunjin moans at the fullness, locking eyes with Y/N's dark gaze. "You feel so good daddy," she whimpers, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Y/N sets a deep, lazy pace.

Balls slapping against her ass as their breaths mingle in between their kisses. Yunjin runs her nails down his back, urging him faster.

He hooks her leg over his shoulder for a new angle, immediately finding her g-spot inside her that makes colors burst behind her eyelids.

"There, don't stop, Y/N!" she screams,

Her walls start fluttering around him as another orgasm starts building.

Y/N pounds into her relentlessly, chasing his own release.

"cum for me," he rumbles in her ear, "Cum for daddy jen" he says shattering her with a squeaky moan,

The grip of her walls draw Y/N's orgasm from him and he spills spurts of semen inside her with a groan.

They lay on the bathmat still connected as their frantic heartbeats slow down, sharing lazy kisses.

Y/N brushes the damp hair from Yunjin's forehead. "You're so fucking pretty."

She smiles in response, scratching his cheek softly, "That was perfect, baby"

After finally getting off the floor and dressing into the plush robes, Y/N orders a feast of food from the room service - sushi, steak, pasta, sweets, champagne, you name it.

They feed each other bites between kisses, playfully stealing food from each other's plates.

Later, curled half naked on bed with the remains of their meal, Yunjin traces patterns on Y/N's chest. "I don't want this night to end," she murmurs sadly.

Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead, smirking "One more round before sleep?"

Yunjin grins, straddling his hips. She takes him in her hand, stroking his flaccid dick to its full length ,

Before sinking down slowly as they moan in unison. Bracing her hands on his chest, she sets a steady rhythm, eyes closed.

Under her, Y/N watches her ride him, his hands roam her curves, rubbing and pinching her nipples.

When he feels her walls start fluttering around him, Y/N sits up to take one nipple in his mouth.

His suckling sends Yunjin over the edge for the third time this night with a cry, walls clenching down on him.

With a pleased hum, Y/N starts bouncing her on his dick holding her hips before following her over the edge.

As his dick grows soft again, Yunjin collapses against his chest as they kiss through eachothers aftershocks.

Y/N lays down onto the pillows, Yunjin still on him as he pulls the blankets over their tired, sweaty bodies.

"I love you so much," he whispers, nuzzling her neck.

Yunjin's eyes are already shut as she sighs contentedly. "Love you too."

In each other's arms, surrounded by the mixed heady scents of their orgasms and sweat, they slip into a nice, much needed sleep.

a- honestly how the fuck do people write so many words? jesus this took me two whole weeks, well in my defense i barely got time to write each day cause of training but holy hell, this is like w/c: 3300 maybe, anyway, i hope you enjoy man and reqs are open but i doubt i'll post consecutively

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