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withleeknow · 5 months

Text

remedy.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; implies that minho has anxiety, unedited bc i am me and you shouldn't expect much from me lmao word count: 1.2k note: hello hello!! i've been meaning to write this since the day of the rock-star comeback but i'm only getting around to finishing it now lol. but the timing's pretty neat so consider this a christmas present from me and mine to you and yours!! <33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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when the sun rouses you awake in the morning, you feel two arms loosely wrapped around you that weren't there before you fell asleep last night.

you smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth and comfort that he brings you. home, finally.

you turn in his hold, as gently as you can to not disturb your slumbering minho.

you don’t know when exactly he got back, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours ago. sometimes, when he has night schedules, he doesn’t usually return until the sun is peeking over the horizon. you’re used to him having to work throughout the wee hours of the night every other week. you don’t like it, but you’re used to it.

you expect to find him snoozing peacefully beside you, with his handsome face and his lips parted cutely as he lightly snores, but when you finally shuffle around to look at him, you instantly frown.

a frown that matches his own.

baby, you think, what’s wrong?

even in his sleep, minho’s brows are knitted together, the corners of his mouth tugged downward like he’s having a bad dream. the instant concern that rushes through you parts the hazy fog in your brain, and then... you remember.

it was only half past three in the morning when your phone buzzed to life, the vibrations resounding brassily against the wooden surface of your nightstand. reaching out blindly for the device, you only needed to peek through one eye to scan the time and the caller id before you held it to your ear, your face still smushed against your fluffy pillow.

"hmm?"

"i'm sorry," minho was quick to apologize. "did i wake you?" he sounded rushed, like he had wandered off to a corner to steal a few minutes for himself before having to go back.

you made a noncommittal noise, already feeling the exhaustion luring you back to dreamland. it had been a long week and you'd endured five whole days just to get to the weekend, to be able to spend hours on end with your boyfriend. it'd be just you and him, wrapped up together in your cozy little bubble, all your stresses and troubles kept at bay. he was always the best part of your days, your weeks, your months, even your years.

even though you were drifting, you still managed to ask, "is everything okay?"

"yeah, everything’s fine. i just missed you."

it made you smile nonetheless. he didn’t often disturb you in the middle of the night just to be sappy with you whenever he was stuck working odd hours, but it wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary. minho could still be needy and clingy sometimes. it was one of the things that you loved most about him - that he could be a grumpy cat most of the time, but underneath that prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. you loved it even more that you were the only person who could bring out that side of him.

"missed you too," you mumbled. it didn’t sound at all lively, but you knew he could tell that you meant it.

you caught a sigh from his end before he continued. though this time, he let his defenses down when he spoke. his voice came out along with a tired exhale, laced with something that you would’ve been able to pick up on had your mind not been delirious with sleep. "wanna be there with you," he said in earnest. "want you to be here with me."

"when are you coming home?" you asked, even though the words came out a little garbled, your voice heavy with sleep.

"in a couple hours. i'll be home right after this."

"okay. we can-" cue a big yawn. "we can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning."

"yeah, that sounds nice."

"then i’ll see you in a bit, okay?"

he paused briefly before his next words came out a little unsteady, hesitant. the unease with which he spoke bypassed your unassuming radar completely. "can we just stay on the phone?"

"min-"

"you don't have to talk to me. just... stay with me for a while."

you think you might've passed out again after that, the subsequent silence and his breathing on the other end having lulled you back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

my love, it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it, how could i have missed it?

you quietly move closer to him, shuffling inch by inch until you’re chest to chest, hoping his body could sense your warmth and be comforted by it, even just a little bit. you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, but even that simple touch stirs him awake even though minho is usually a deep sleeper.

his eyes slowly open, and you suppose the tug on your heartstrings loosens when the furrow between his brows eases as he takes in the sight of you.

he heaves a sigh of relief, and it’s like you can actually see some of the tension leaving his body as he pulls you to him, holding you against him so tightly that it’s impossible to move even if you wanted to.

"hi," you say, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling further into him until it’s hard to tell if the heartbeat you feel is yours or his.

"hi," he replies, his soft lips placing a greeting kiss on the top of your head.

"bad day?" night, but oh well. technicalities.

his answer comes muffled against your hair, though you feel the slight vibration of his chest when he mutters, "it wasn’t that bad. i was just a little overwhelmed."

"but it's better now?"

"much better, now that you’re here."

truthfully, you don’t really know what to say in moments like this. you want to be able to offer him reassuring words that could ease his nerves and calm his raging sea, but you’re not good with words. you never have been. you don’t think you ever will be, as much as you want to. for him.

it makes you feel guilty at times, not being able to give minho the peace he needs.

you do try though, to comfort him as much as you can.

"i love you," you say quietly. your arm wraps around him, your palm landing on his upper back where your fingers tenderly soothe the firm muscles you find. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you. i wish i have the right words to say to you.

"i could listen to you breathe and feel ten times better," he admits, putting some distance between your faces so he can look at you, as if it'll help emphasize his words. "i don’t even need you to do anything. i just need you. you’re more than enough for me."

his eyes bore into yours, glittering with nothing but a kind of sincerity that he never shows anyone but you. you kiss him then, soft and slow. you want to pour as much love into him as you possibly can. and even then you don't think it can amount to a fraction of what he deserves.

but nonetheless, you try. you try because he means the world to you.

i'll do better for you. let me share your burdens with you.

pulling away, you tell him, as your palm gently holds his cheek, a touch which he leans into instantaneously. "go back to sleep. i’ve got you."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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angelwhisp3rs · 5 months

Text

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 obsession

Pairing: ID!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Training the rookies was a pain until he met her. His sweetest new obsession, he wouln't stop till he was buried deep inside her.

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap (not too much! i imagined leon being 37 and the reader being 23-25, so everyone is legal and consenting! Its not his age in ID but i use it only bc of the character background), p in v, eating out, riding, breeding kink, leon is obsessed!, a small housewife kink.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ on repeat: exo - obsession

Notes: Got too excited and posted without proofreading it! If i missed anything, please let me know so i can correct it! Also, when will tumblr make a pastel pink theme for the dashboard? I hate that everything we have is either a sad/gloomy hipster or raging gothic theme.

From all his years working at the D.S.O, Leon was stressed pretty much all the time, never catching a break, too exhausted. That showed on the increasing wrinkles forming from his frowns, and the occasional white hair that appeared on top of his head. In his non-existent breaks, he had another thing on his belt: training the new agents.

At first, it was a pain in the ass, watching those morons do the same mistake over and over, it really made Leon think it was getting too easy to be a D.S.O agent. Some repeated the same mistakes over and over again, and because of it, Leon frequently lost his patience, soon getting known as a hardass.

As time went by, he began losing hope for the future of the department, until she came through. Pretty body, voice as soothing as a canary and delicious lips that called for him. And the best thing was that she was better than all of these morons, throwing down even the experienced rookies.

Since Ada, Leon didn’t know what it was like to be this obsessed with a woman. He wanted to know her next step, have her by his side all the time, know how her soft skin feels underneath his rough fingertips. He dreamed of her, and caught himself checking her out more than he should. Chris always teased him in private, telling him “his star student is making him turn back to his twenties”. God, they had a small age gap, but thinking about it only made his cock throb. Maybe dealing with rookies made his mind turn him back to his twenties.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As their “graduation” got closer in time, all the new agents began training more, but none were like her. She came in first and left after all of them, always using the training gym by herself the most she could. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Leon offered private training, becoming a private tutor to her.

Instead of making things easy, it just caused him to become even more addicted to her - he now knew her thoughts, her quirks and her perspectives. As they spent more and more time together, it was clear that she found him attractive too - he knew he was still successful with women, after all (even if he was more dumped than anything). Leon had cemented in his mind that he needed her, and now he just needed to find a way to approach her.

She will be all his.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One of the nights, he had to spend in his office reading and filing boring documents, Leon heard a gentle knock on his door. “Come in” he simply answered, and to his surprise - and excitement, it was his little star. She entered his office, and her usual sparkly eyes were dull, the poor thing was too tired, working herself too much.

“What happened, rookie? You look exhausted. Working too much to bring me down?” Leon said with a smirk

“Ha, you wish, sir.” Oh, how that term made his pants tighten. “I just came for help, I don’t know. I’ve been focusing on sharpening my skills for the admission test, but I don’t know…” she said unsure

“Hey, don’t tell the rest, but you’re the only one that I would bet on getting in” he reassured her, standing up and taking a seat beside her in his couch “You’re too much in your head, agent”

“I know, I just can’t turn it off…” she whined, making Leon think how she would sound if he made her cum around his cock

That 's it. That was Leon’s chance to get his favorite student. He put a hand on her thigh, not too close to her precious cunt and said quietly to her “It’s alright, sweetheart… I can help you, if you want”

She knew where this was going, and it turned her on more than she thought. Feigning innocence, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, nodding “But… How, sir?” and looked at his lips

Leon smiled, caressing her jaw “let me fill your mind, rookie. Why don’t you sit at my desk, hm?”

She stood up and slowly went to his desk, sitting on it and letting her head fall to the side, as if to question him “what’s next?” with her body language. Leon follows her, standing between her legs and letting his hands caress the outer side of her thighs. His face lowers to her neck, his kisses and his stubble causing a warm sensation to run through her skin. A soft gasp left her lips, her hands caressing the back of his head.

Feeling him smirk against her skin, he kept placing slow and gentle kisses, adding some nibbles on the mix “That’s what my best student needs, right? A real man to touch her”

He lays her on his desk, pushing his papers aside, pulling her hips into his - his cock adding a nice weight to her sensitive wetness. He slowly pushed her shirt up, watching her beauty for a moment “You’re perfect, baby”. As he whispered the praise, her cheeks blushed more, a soft giggle leaving her lips. He finally kissed her lips and both were hungry for each other, to quench the thirst they had been accumulating after months.

Leon swiftly undoes her bra, not wasting any time and circling his tongue around her nipples, sucking and lightly nibbling it. Underneath him, her breath quickens, as she whines freely as he teased her. Trying to ease their ache, Leon grinds their centers together, his cock so hard that his zipper presses against his member.

Soon, he removed her pants, kissing as her skin showed - inch by inch. Again, his stubble creates goosebumps in her legs, as he worshiped her body - she deserved it, after all, he wanted to make her addicted to him and his taste. Watching her panties so drenched as they were glued to her pussy, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her bundle of nerves, causing a gentle jump on her. He kissed and licked the wet spot, as if trying to eat her up.

“F-fuck, please take them off, sir” she whined, not even realizing that she kept the term. Leon, deciding that he wasn’t in a teasing mood, guided the clothing down, letting his pretty star all spread on his desk - his to take, to tease, to fuck, to breed.

“Shit, baby girl, you are so wet for your teacher… you wanted me to take you, right? You wanted me to go crazy and drench my face with you. huh?” He teased her as he got on his knees, aligning his face against her cunt. She was so red, puffy and wet, not even the most delicious candy could compare to her.

His tongue tasted her at first with kitten licks, causing a loud moan to rip from her mouth. “Keep quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone coming here and seeing you spread out like a needy slut, right?” at his comment, and as if teasing her, he finally sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit, letting his index finger circle her wet entrance. Almost as if she was distressed, she cupped her mouth with her hand, rolling her eyes back at the pleasure.

Pushing his finger forward, slowly, until he's entirely inside her, he kept eating her out with gusto, as if he was a starved man. Soon, what was one finger turned into two, her juices were flowing through his palm as he began to be more desperate for her - but he wouldn’t stop till she let him taste her entirely. “It feels good, doesn’t it, my doll? I’m the only man and only one for you, gonna make sure to keep this pussy satisfied till I die”.

His fingers and mouth worked more ferociously, pussy drunk wasn’t even close to describe how he was feeling.On the other end, she had tears in her eyes as one hand didn’t leave her mouth as the other one tugged his hair hard, making him moan against her drenched cunt. “S-sir, o-oh g-god…need to c-cum!” she pleased, looking down at him with glazed eyes.

“Do it, baby girl, give it to me” he ushered her, maintaining the pace till she finally coated his fingers, tongue and mouth with her essence. As her ‘little death’ came, she felt as if fireworks erupted inside her mind - none of her exams daring to creep up on her mind.

He praised and marked her thighs as she came down from her high. The girl pulled Leon into a passionate kiss, smiling in contentment, reaching cloud 9000. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips “Let me repay you, Leon. Wanna make you feel just as good”

“Not today, doll.” He whispered, sitting back in his chair and pulling his pants and underwear down, patting his lap “I know how to help you even further”, he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Like an excited bunny, she hopped off his desk and jumped into his lap, resuming her kisses on his mouth - casually descending into his jaw and neck, enjoying the pleased hums that he lets out. He palmed her ass and firmly grabbed it, giving some gentle smacks as she had his fun with him. To Leon, in all of his life, that was his happiest moment: having his pretty princess on his lap, all naked, hypnotized in kissing and feeling him up.

“Go ahead, baby, let me finally empty your mind and use you” he calmly ordered her, caressing her cheeks adoringly. Soon, she positioned herself and slowly sat down on his cock, rolling her eyes back and holding into his chair behind him.

“S-so b-big…” she moaned, her head falling into his shoulders as the girl swallowed all of him. She was so tight, wet and perfect, Leon almost came deep in her cunt just by her inserting him. His head got dizzy for a moment, his hold on her ass tightening, as he grunted and pressed his eyes closed.

Dedicatedly, she began jumping up and down on his cock, their skin slapping as the woman looked directly into his eyes. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would attest that both had heart in their eyes. her tits jumped up and down in front of him, making his tongue and fingers play with them as the couple lost their minds in pleasure.

“Good job, doll… jumping on my cock like the good girl you are… it’s all for you, always for you” he said rambling in pleasure, busying his mouth to tell her praises and roll her sensitive nipples on his tongue, as her cunt drenched his cock, causing a white ring at the base.

Holding tightly into the back of his chair, her hips worked even faster on him, making Leon moan more frequently in pleasure, slapping her ass, leaving behind his handprints on her pretty skin. His head falls back as he watches the goddess in front of him taking what's hers and milking his cock into her hungry pussy. He would make sure that she passed her admission check, so every end of shift he would breed her cunt, till she is finally all of his - the mother of his children, his pretty wife. But that’s a talk for later.

After some minutes pass, Leon takes over and thrusts from below, making her body turn into his own ragdoll, her moans flowing freely into his mouth. Some minutes passed, and both were on the brink of their orgasm, so close to reaching their true paradise “Will you let me fill you, doll? Make your womb so full of me, gonna make you get home with me drenching on your legs” he taunted her.

Not handling much more teasing, and his words serving as a catalyst to her peak, she nods and coats his cock with her sweet arousal, biting down on his shoulder to drown out her sounds. Her roughness and the new tight hold on his cock makes him spill into her gummy walls, emptying himself. Finally, he marked her as his. His doll, his love, his property.

Both were coming down from their highs, trying to control their breathing, letting their heartbeat slow down. He caressed her hair, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling their noses together, all smiles. “So, did I help?” he asked jokingly.

“Didn’t even know why I came here” she answers teasingly.

From now on, Leon would never be exhausted for the wrong reasons ever again.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #infinite darkness #leon kennedy infinite darkness

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a-simple-imagine · 7 months

Text

Bigender asian with pronoun fuckery

synopsis: you're a rising star at godu. just cracked the top ten but a budding relationship with jordan li may bring everything crumbling down

pairing: jordan li x fem!reader

words: 5.2k+

a/n - not sure how i feel about this but i am putting it out there. if this gets enough attention, I can work on another part that goes a little deeper?? I use all pronouns for Jordan but mainly they/them

WARNINGS - swearing and drug use

a groggy groan slips past your lips as you bury your face further into the gentle embrace of the pillow. it is early. too early. you have no clue what time it actually is but whatever the case may be, you weren't ready for the day to start just yet. it takes a moment to realise you're alone in this bed. you hadn't been when you fell asleep. it doesn't bother you too much though. they're probably just getting ready. that is until you hear a curse word muttered quietly; perhaps an attempt to not disturb you or maybe they just wanted to hide their frustration. "what are you doing?" your words half muttered into the pillow.

"rankings are out." that was it? rankings? you sometimes forget how competitive they can be. it's not like you're not interested. you've wanted that top spot since freshman year. alas, golden boy holds that spot and you'd never be a pretty blonde white boy if you tried. this semester you've been working extra hard. Everyone knows you're in the best chance of scoring a city contract if you can break the top ten but the seven? they want the best of the best. sure it's not impossible to be lower and also become part of the team, the deep managed it, but that was an anomaly. most supes just end up as walking advertisements for vought. and as much as you may enjoy the occasional acting class. you weren't here to end up on some CW show or a Netflix special. you were gonna make it into the seven. you were gonna prove to everyone that you are one of the best.

"who cares," you mumble, rolling onto your back and spreading your arms out wide.

"oh, so you don't care that you're now second."

"come back to bed." you urge. a silence seals the room until your brain catches up to what it just heard. did they say second? as in second place? as in one spot away from first? you didn't mishear that. sitting up, you eventually spy a feminine presenting Jordan sitting at her desk, illuminated by the blue glow of their tablet. their short bob falls to one side. a perfect backdrop for such a pretty face "Are you fucking with me?" they don't bother responding just shove the tablet out in your direction. grabbing it you see your school ID photo with a massive '#2' next to it. you blink a few times. scroll down a little. refresh the page. but again it's still there. it was real. "fuck"

"My thoughts exactly," Jordan reacts. you glimpse at them wondering what that comment means. it could merely be a jest or a reflection of their current mood. you take a moment to look at the rest of the list in search of their name. they were no longer top three. you found them sitting nicely at number five. double fuck. you had taken their spot. they're still top ten which most would be happy with but not Jordan. tossing the tablet aside, you drop back against the bed. letting your eyes fall closed. "we have class in like an hour."

"I don't need to go to class. I'm number two now," you press.

"not how that works," A dramatic groan falls past your lips, pulling the covers up over your head. bed sounded better than a morning lecture. you wish they would just join you or leave you be. "get out of my bed." Jordan huffs after a moment. "we're gonna be late." you don't move. you frankly don't care. "if you don't hurry up, no breakfast."

"fucks sake." you whine, emerging from beneath the darkness of the duvet. "fine. I'll let you buy me Jitterbean."

"thought so," they offer you a tight smile. you could never say no to a free treat before class. "chop-chop."

Drink in one hand, pastry in the other, you're feeling brighter as you stroll into class. Jordan trails behind you. they'd been usually quiet on the walk over. you put it down to all the attention you were attracting today. couldn't even walk across campus without people asking for pictures or saying hi. you weren't sure you liked it just yet but for right now it was fine. when you spot cate you offer a scrunched up smile which she quickly returns. you and cate had been friends since day one. something just clicked. "there she is," cate starts as you approach your usual spot in class. "the girl of the hour. you're literally all anyone can talk about."

"aren't i always," you tease.

"we're going out tonight"

"are you asking-" you begin as Dean Shetty strides into the room. guess brink was out today. "or telling me?"

"telling," cate's smile quirks up before she turns to focus on the class. guess that was the end of that conversation.

you linger by your desk as everyone else filters out of the room after class. Dean Shetty requested a word. you can't imagine what it's about. surely she isn't that bothered by your attempts at chatting through her lecture. you offer up an awkward little smile as you push off the desk you were leaning against; slowly making you way across the room. "so what have I done wrong?"

"you mean other than talking through the entire class," you internally cringe a little. maybe she was bothered by all the whispering. she watches you for a moment before continuing. "it is nothing like that. don't worry."

"then why am I here?"

"I just thought we should have a little chat." your brow furrows. what did you and the dean of an entire university have to discuss? was this about your ranking? was she about to tell you there had been a mistake? "I believe congratulations are in order- such an extensive jump in ranking, you must be proud."

this felt like a conversation that could have been an email. "sure. thanks." you shrug. you're not really sure what to say. of course, you're proud. you were the second highest ranked student in a school of exceptional kids. "is that all?"

"no," her head shakes a little. I wanted to make sure you understand the gravity of the position you're in." when you don't respond she decides to just continue. "being a superhero is about more than just your abilities. it's also about how you present yourself. people care about you. they wanna know what you're doing. who you're hanging out with. One minute you're taking a picture with a nice girl you met at a party the next you're fighting nazi allegations for hanging out with a white supremacist. do you get what I'm saying?"

you shrug. "don't hang out with nazis, got it."

"I'm saying you need to look at yourself more like a brand. Be careful about what you say and who you spend your time with. you're the sum of the people around you."

"I know. I took branding." everyone knew how this worked. being a good person only took you so far and if homelander was anything to go off, that doesn't even matter that much. it's all about how you market yourself. it's about how many followers you have. how much attention you can get. inevitably, how much money can you make for Vought? Dean Shetty smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"you do want to be number one, correct?" you nod a little. "I want to help you get to the top but only if you wanna help yourself."

"what about Luke?"

"he is far from my concern right now." what did that even mean? "so?"

you hesitate. you did want this but you weren't entirely sure what you were agreeing to here. If Dean Shetty can help you secure first place though, maybe it was worth the risk. she was an expert here. should you even bother questioning why the sudden interest in you? "I want this."

"Good," her smile seemed more genuine now. "I know you can go far, just keep in mind what I said."

"I will," you start edging towards the stuff you left on your desk. "thanks."

"also try listening during lectures. I'm sure you and Miss Dunlap can talk some other time."

"Sorry." with that you practically run out of the classroom before she can continue talking.

it's a particularly chilly night smushed in the back seat of an old car. bright lights zoom past the window and music blasts through the speakers. you're not really paying attention to the noise around you. it's a mess of meaningless conversation. Dean Shetty's words play over in your head. She certainly would not approve of this little venture out into the night past curfew; what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Jordan eventually pulls your attention; in his hand, he holds two small red pills. you don't really question it before popping one into your mouth. a second for later. tonight was gonna be fun or if nothing else you can abuse enough substances to pretend. the secret location is just a massive warehouse. on the outside, you'd think it any old thing. inside you find massive tanks of rainbow fish, long sweeping curtains, jester-themed masquerade masks and other eccentric decor. it is the most random selection and yet it works so well. creates the perfect balance of sexy and mysterious but inviting. you find yourself in a booth with your friends all around. "so how's being number two going for ya?" Andre asks. "feeling the pressure yet?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "people are weird."

"what do you mean?" Luke questions.

"Dean Shetty said some things to me after class."

"-I come bearing gifts." Jordan appears, now in their feminine form with a couple of drinks followed by Marie. "courtesy of the young gentleman at the bar."

"What did Dean Shetty say?"

"it doesn't matter." you shrug it off. "two will never be one right."

"has it not hit yet?" Jordan wonders.

"i know what it's like to suddenly have all this pressure on you but try not to think about it much," Luke reassures you. "just keep doing what you're doing. you've got this."

"my guy. you're supposed to be happy here," Andre leans forward slapping his hand against your leg. "we're out here celebrating you, dude. cheer up."

"I'm plenty happy," you grumble sinking further into your seat. you appreciate their attempt to cheer you up but it's honestly not needed. you're happy to be in second place even with all the newly founded pressure; just a little confused about what was expected of you. "ecstatic even. let's talk about something else."

your head feels fuzzy. nothing feels real anymore. but it's good. great even. you feel so fucking good. like you've rid yourself of every lingering thought that wrapped itself around your body. you're light. you're free. the shimmering blue of the giant fish tanks is so mesmerising; you almost want to climb in but instead, you watch. colours morphing and shifting before your eyes. back and forth. back and forth. you jump a little as something touches your shoulder. "here you are." their words seem distant; muffled even. "you good?" you nod a little continuing to stare at the fish. two hands slip around your waist and connect in front. you feel their body press into yours from behind. you know it's Jordan. you know they're masc. You know them well. their smokey cologne. the way their body feels around you. the subtle differences between both forms. taller. bigger. firm. you let out a content hum. it's a rarity for such open affection. "what are you doing?" whispered in your ear.

"Just watching the fish,"

"why?"

"do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a fish?" you wonder softly. "to just swim around all day without a care in the world… no complex family systems. no pressure to be the best. just… swimming and pretty colours." their chuckle is temperate. affectionate. it almost seems like they somehow get closer.

"you're fucked, huh?"

"I'm good. I'm great," you respond. they just chuckle again, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. your relationship with Jordan was hardly one of romance. you have slept together. a few times actually. and some kind of feelings are there; at least for you there are but you're not dating. you're just… having fun. maybe you want more. who knows? you don't. would they even want more? probably not. you'd like it. maybe. doesn't matter. they make you feel warm. safe even. and that's all that really matters.

"shall we get you a drink?" you nod a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," you repeat nodding more eagerly. a dopey smile settling on your lips as you let your head fall back; nuzzling against him. "something fruity, please."

"let's get you something fruity," arms vacate your waist replaced with a hand in yours.

"bye fishies," you throw a wave back. "say bye Jordan."

"Absolutely not." they interlock your fingers before leading the way back into the turbulent crowd of the club.

"you're no fun." you groan playfully. weaving through the mass of people back towards the bar, you come across cate. as you approach, Jordan let's go.

"you found her then," shouted over the heavy bass and mess of voices.

"she was alone staring at the fish tanks," they respond.

"the fish were really pretty," you contribute with a bright smile.

"you gotta stop running off, silly."

"but the fishies-"

"I know they're pretty but still," cate continues. "do you wanna come dance?"

"hmmm… yes." you respond brightly. "jordan's gonna get me a drink. jordan get cate one too."

"yeah Jordan, get cate one too." cate repeats playfully. her hand slides into yours and she pulls you towards the dance floor. it's a lot of blurred colours as you sway and move alongside the blonde. she wears a playful smile and smells so good. really sweet. like freshly baked cookies. "are you good?"

"mhmm,"

"you sure?" it's so loud out here. there are so many people around you. it's hard to pick up what is being said.

"I am so good, cate," you respond loudly. "I mean definitely fucked but yeah. are you good?"

"yeah," she nods. "I'm-" the rest of her sentence is impossible to comprehend.

"what?"

cate places her hands on your shoulders bringing you to a stop as she leans in extra close. "i said i'm proud of you."

"you're starting to sound like my mom," you joke. she playfully hits your arm. "but thank you."

"i think you could actually take luke's spot."

"i definitely can." you declare proudly. "dean shetty offered to help."

"really?" cate seems shocked by the idea. "why?"

you shrug. "i'm gonna be in the seven one day." you yell loudly. nobody cares. everyone is being loud. it'd drowned out by everything else. cate stares at you for a moment before letting her smile return.

"fuck yeah, you are," cate shouts. your smile brightens. fuck yeah, you are.

your head pounds with the weight of your bad decisions. maybe you went a little too hard. Nausea settles deep in the pit of your stomach. you think you're gonna throw up. you don't. you breathe deeply through it. a long groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back; stretching out your limbs as far as they go to very little relief. A pain radiates from your left leg. god only knows why. you're just a little achy. how did you even get here? the last thing you remember is dancing with Cate; having fun.

"she's alive," the voice catches you off guard. it sounds like… wait. your eyes finally focus on the person in the room who definitely wasn't your roommate. that black hair. that pretty face. the effortless expression of too cool to be here. jordan li is still in the exact same outfit as last night. why were they here? "how's our newest celebrity?"

there were many ways you could answer but your brain could only come up with. "shitty."

"I bet," they approach the end of your bed, holding out a glass of water. "here."

you slowly push yourself up into a seated position. trying desperately to ignore the intense pressure building in your head. "why are you here?" you ask, accepting the glass and taking a long, big gulp.

"Jordan stayed all night," your roommate, Beth, interjects. By her tone, she was not happy with your newfound company. "would have been nice to know."

"I'm allowed to have people in our room, Beth." you hand the glass back to Jordan before falling back down against the bed. rubbing your eyes with your thumb and forefinger. "I wanna die."

"tell me next time." Beth continues to argue. "instead I wake up to a stranger in our room."

you groan loudly. this was too much talking for your poor delicate head to handle right now. "I'm right here, guys," Jordan insists. "I literally spoke to you last night."

"I'm making a point." your roommate argues. "I'd like a heads up."

"gooooood! okay- sorry," you groan. you really don't care this much

"Okay, well, I gotta go," Jordan hums. "wasn't supposed to stay this long just wanted to make sure you're cool."

"I'm fine. go," you wave a dismissive hand as your eyes flutter close. "thanks for getting me home."

"any time," their weight leaves the bed and you roll onto your side to face the wall. pulling the duvet closer around your body. "I'll text you- bye Beth."

"bye Jordan." you hear the door click and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. it's preferable to the loud conversation that just happened. it's a relief to your head. you just want to go back to sleep. "they must really like you."

urgh. you don't want to talk anymore. "yeah, jordans cool."

"no, I mean, they like you," Beth continues on. you bury yourself further into your cocoon of pillows and duvet. "stayed the whole night just to keep an eye on you. I said it was fine- you'd be fine but they insisted."

Jordan insisted? just how fucked up were you that Jordan li of all people would stay the night just to make sure you were okay? you guys were good friends but most of the time they were either bullying you or treating you like a child which is like a subset of bullying you. you remember them wrapping their arms around you as you watched the fish last night. you've seen Jordan's softer side obviously but yeah. "we're just friends, dude."

"All I know is that Jordan li, as far as I've seen and heard, would not do that for just anyone. they're into you."

"sure. fine. whatever." you growl. you just wanted this conversation to end. Jordan was cool but if you think about this for too long your head is gonna explode. right now, sleep was what you needed. "Jordan Li is in love with me. I'm going back to sleep." it's hard not to think about what Beth suggested. that Jordan was into you as more than just a friend and occasionally fuck buddy. is that something you should talk about? What if Beth was wrong and you bring it up and it makes things super weird? you can't handle that. you have like a million classes together, you would never be able to escape them.

it was a bright sunny day in the quad of Godolkin University. you sit in the courtyard. a laptop, criminology textbooks and a water bottle spread across the table. you have an essay due in a few days. you had sat down to work on this essay multiple times with a beautiful blank document and many hours on TikTok to show for it. "hey," your TikTok time is interrupted by none other than Jordan Li. you had not seen them since that night or morning. you hadn't really spoken either. you weren't avoiding them by any means. you were just busy and they hadn't seemed too eager to talk so. "hey," they say after a moment. "how's the essay going?"

"so great," you flash a smile. "I've written so much."

"that good, huh," they joke awkwardly taking a sip of their coffee. you just hum in response. you need to get this done. no time to add Jordan to the list of distractions. after a few moments of silence, they speak up again. "I was hoping we could talk

"Can this wait? I really need to get this done."

"I guess…" Jordan trailed off. you look at him for a moment. he seems disheartened by your request.

"what's up?"

"it… doesn't matter. don't worry." a small smile settles on their lips. "I should go."

"you sure?"

Jordan pushes up from their seat. "I'll see you later."

that was weird. definitely something you need to come back to later when you're not working on a deadline. for now, you had an essay to, at the very least, start.

"Have you spoken to Jordan recently?" you ask Cate as you slide into a booth at the on-campus Vought - a - burger. the smell of deep-fried food hangs heavy in the air and you know damn well this table is probably gonna be sticky as hell. "I feel like they're ignoring me."

"What makes you think that?"

"the fact that they're quite literally ignoring me. I've text them a couple times and nothing. even in class, they can hardly look at me." you reach into the bag to pull out the food; placing it on napkins in front of you. cate hands you your drink in exchange for her order. "I feel bad. they tried to talk to me the other day but I wanted to get my essay done."

"they've seemed fine to me but I've been working on a project for my hero management class." Cate shrugs. "is this about what happened the other night?"

"what happened the other night?" you questioned, popping a fry into your mouth. it actually tasted fresh and salty; guess you came at the correct time. you hate it when they're all soggy.

"I don't know if it's my place to say- you were pretty high."

"did I do something… bad?" you didn't remember that night but you never imagined you would ever do something inappropriate.

"no. not bad." you can tell she regrets bringing this up; whatever this is. torn between wanting to help and not overstepping boundaries. She is about to continue when two girls approach the table. freshmen you presume. you've never seen them before.

"Can we get a selfie?" the taller of the two requests. you frown a little.

"we're actually trying to have a private con-"

"it'll just take a minute," they turn around and hold the camera out, snapping a picture before you have a chance to react. "thanks." they scurry off almost immediately. you'll probably find yourself tagged in a picture on Instagram later. it had been happening a lot recently; so much so that you had to turn notifications off.

"the fuck?" you share a confused look with Cate. "people are so rude."

"they're just excited. you're basically a celebrity to them," Cate chuckles.

"do you think Jordan hates me now?" you wonder bringing the conversation back to Li.

"it's probably just because of the rankings."

"you mean because I took their spot?"

"Jordan has always been pretty intense when it came to rankings. they've wanted that top spot for as long as I've known them." Cate explains, hiding her mouth as she shoves more food into her mouth. "must suck that you just jumped to two and have the dean in your corner no less." you never really considered how Jordan must be handling all this. you knew they'd be a little upset but this seemed extreme.

"I never really thought about that," you sigh softly. "should I apologise?"

"I don't know," Cate resumes, biting the head off some fries. "if you think it'd help."

"I don't know why they didn't just tell me that when we first found out," you frown a little. "they were a little distant but they seemed cool when we went out."

"maybe you should just try talking to them," Cate suggests, picking up her drink. She takes a swift sip before continuing. "if it's about rankings or the other night- I don't know. only Jordan does."

"what happened the other night?" you ask again.

"ask Jordan."

"I'm asking you, Cate."

"you were just a lot and said some things."

"Cate!" you huff, falling back. you know Cate well. you know when she's avoiding something. "I know you're being cryptic so I give up on it."

"it's just not my place. it's between you and Jordan. I don't wanna get in the middle." Cate presses sharply. "did you get your essay done?"

"no," you shake your head. "I ended up getting an extension- how am I supposed to speak to them when they're ignoring me?"

"i don't know- can we please talk about something else?" Cate pleads.

"Sure," you hum softly. taking another fry you dip it into some sauce. "let's talk about how I'm about to fail criminology."

you text Jordan that you're coming over. It wasn't a question but a statement. no option to refuse. you needed to sort this out and being direct was the best approach. did every inch of your body buzz with anxiety as you made your way towards their dorm room? yes. but it beat constantly thinking about every little interaction you had with Jordan in the past week trying to figure out exactly what you had done wrong. the only blank spot was that night and Cate had unintentionally convinced you that you had done something absolutely awful. maybe you told them you hate them or invalidated their identity in some way? fuck. you swallow hard staring at their closed door. you shake out the nerves before knocking. knock. knock. knock. and the door swings open to reveal Jordan. "hey," they hum before retreating into the safety of their dorm. shutting the door behind you, you step inside the all too familiar space; you had been here a great many times and yet today there was a weird vibe. it felt foreign. cold even. "so what did you wanna talk about?" for a split second you almost forgot why you were here. you turn to Jordan who is sitting on the couch, a laptop thrown off to the side now. your eyes fall to the homelander Vought-a-burger toy that has somehow become a staple of this room. leader of the seven. currently facing major allegations. "you good?"

"Are you mad at me?" you blurt out. "is it about the rankings? I know they mean a lot to you and I basically took your spot so I get it if you're mad. it's a little unfair because I've always wanted this too but like I get it." your rambling but you can't help yourself. you need to get this all out as quickly as possible before your brain catches on and you chicken out. "And I'm sorry about the other day, I just really needed to get my essay done. I ended up getting an extension because I was so stressed out about it, I just couldn't start." you can't bring yourself to look at them. "or if I did something shitty on that night out. I'm sorry. it was fucked-"

"whoa dude, chill out," Jordan ultimately interrupts. "you're talking a lot." you dare a glance at them. their face is pretty neutral so you have no clue what was going on in their head. "what are you even asking?"

"why are you avoiding me?" you ask. "I've clearly done something wrong."

a heavy sigh leaves their lips as they fall back against the plush fabric. "I'll admit I was a little annoyed with the rankings at first but I'm working on it. this is like a really big deal for you."

"so you're not mad at me?" you sound so pathetic. an even bigger sigh leaves their lips. you're not sure what that means but nobody sighs that heavily for good reason. they push to their feet, crossing the room towards you.

"I'm not mad at you," they say softly as they approach. for a second they hold your gaze as they linger close but then they flicker away. "I'm just… confused."

"About what?" they take a step closer. so close. too close. their hot breath pricks at your skin but you don't dare move away. you almost feel drawn to them.

"Is this okay?" they say quietly.

"Are you only doing this so we'll stop talking about it?" their head shakes just a little.

"no," their hand graces over your neck and up to the bottom of your jaw. Their thumb gently brushes your skin, sending a chill down your spine. there would always be something about Jordan Li that made you melt inside. when they're here and so close, you almost forget all your worries. the way they look at you. like you're the only person in the world. a feather-like embrace is enough to send you spinning. "I don't think I can just be your friend anymore," whispered against your lips. "I… like you too." they pull back.

"Jordan,"

"I need you to say it- I need you to say it sober so I don't feel like a fucking idiot," say it sober? when did you say it in the first place? maybe this was what Cate was talking about. the thing you couldn't remember. you admitted to having feelings for Jordan. fuck.

"I…" you trail off, the words are caught in your throat. this is gonna change everything?

"It's cool," they declare loudly, letting their hand fall as they away. "I get it."

"no Jordan-"

"no it's fine. you were fucked. it didn't mean anything- I shouldn't have said anything."

"Jordan," you say louder, reaching out for their hand. a deep regret fills your stomach. you liked Jordan. they meant a lot to you and you were throwing it all away because you were scared; terrified even. if this doesn't work out then you ruin everything. there's no coming back from this.

"don't," they yank their hand away. "please don't. I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity."

"I don't get you." they huff. "you're all over me and then you want nothing to do with me. you tell everyone you like me but then… nothing? it's… confusing-"

"Jordan just- stop please," you say loudly. "I… like you, okay?"

"don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you say a tad more confidently. "I like you." you try to reach for them again. they let you take their hand. " i don't know what it means exactly but I do… like you… too." you squeeze their hand slightly. it's warm and fits so perfectly in yours. they turn back to you with a smile. a small genuine smile that fills you with butterflies. they really did mean so much to you.

"so… now what?" they ask.

"I don't know." you pursed your lips, shrugging your shoulders. "but I do have to go."

"Seriously?"

"I have a meeting with Dean Shetty." you express. "I'm sorry. She wants me at some dinner so."

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #the boys #london thor #derek luh

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olsenmyolsen · 4 months

Text

A Sokovian Flower

master list

dark master list

Post Age of Ultron MCU (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: Wanda wanted a tattoo, which led her to you.

Word Count: 4.1K

Content: Mentions of Sokovia, Wanda's Parents, and dead Pietro. But fluff!

Wanda Maximoff was nervous.

She had never done something like this before.

Her stomach was in knots, and she had no one to blame but herself. Well, she could blame Petiro, but that would be unfair. She could blame Natasha, but that would only end up with her ass hitting the floor. So that wasn't an option.

Anyways, like stated before... Wanda had no one to blame but herself.

But Wanda really, really, really wanted THIS tattoo!

She had thought about it for the last four months since the fall of her home country and relocation to the States. She wanted something that was her own. Something that would pay tribute.

Wanda eventually decided on the national flower of Sokovia.

For her parents and brother.

But as Wanda bites her lip and waits for you to come out from the back, does she now realize that she has to go through with it.

This is going to be on my body forever. But that's what I want, right?

Wanda keeps going back and forth in her own mind. Her eyebrows scrunching and lifting up. Her fingers crossing over one another.

Wanda closes her eyes and breathes out. She calms herself down.

Yep, I can't do this!

Wanda picks up her ID and goes to turn around just when you come out from the back.

Wanda barely made eye contact with you before, but now she sees you and feels her mouth go dry.

The first place her eyes go to are your ears. Full of silver. Very reminiscent of Natasha. Wanda's eyes then travel down your sharp jawline to the holes in your black shirt, exposing your soft skin before they land on the art covering your arms.

Wanda loves the stars and hearts filling the space between your larger pieces.

Wanda brings her eyes back up to you as she realizes that you're speaking to her. Your voice is gentle.

"Are you having second thoughts?" You ask, making Wanda open and close her mouth.

You're not an idiot. You can see the worry and nerves dancing over the face across from you. It's clearly her first time, and you feel bad that she has no friend or anyone else here with her.

You also noticed her checking you out, but it happens, so you let it slide.

"Ummm, yeah. I'm sorry." Her soft voice quietly speaks up. And you're not sure how you missed it earlier, but you hear her accent.

You love it.

You smile at her words and nod your head before turning around to grab your tablet. Wanda watches you turn back and lay it next to the blank form she had yet to fill out.

"Wanda, right?" You ask as you look up from the email she had written a few days prior. She nods her green eyes at you before crossing her arms over her body.

Black nail polish catches your eye. It goes well with her black hoodie, skirt, and thigh-high socks.

You look back down as she steps closer to the counter. "Ah, the flower... here it is." Wanda watches you fly from the email to a saved folder of your drawings. There, she watches you move your pen to three different versions of the flower. Each one having more detail than the last.

You turn the tablet over to show her.

"I hope you don't mind, but I added more detail. I think it looks very pretty with the shading and linework in the leaves." You point to the second drawing as Wanda smiles. Her green eyes dance from one to the next.

"They're amazing." She says with awe in her words without looking up. She lifts her hands over the third design. It has tiny stars and sparkles around the flower, as well as a diamond design behind the main piece.

Wanda lifts her head to you, and your eyes trace her face in a second.

She's gorgeous, and when she smiles, you smile.

"I- uh-" You pull your eyes away and turn the tablet around before you fumble and grab the form for her to sign. "I- um, if you want to go through with it." You lift your eyes and smile. "You'll need to sign this." Wanda reaches up and grabs the form. "And I'll need your ID to make a photocopy." Wanda looks up, and you see her decide her eyes. "Okay."

Wanda hands you her ID before she takes a seat at the couch near the counter to fill out the form. Before placing her ID in the printer, you take a glance at it.

She wears a pout in her photo that makes you hold back a laugh. She looks so cute. You then quickly glance around the ID before placing it down and hitting print.

When you turn around, you see Wanda finishing up her signature as she bites her lip. Her pretty pink lips.

You then look away and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in the corner.

You had to get a hold of yourself.

She was a paying customer, not a random girl across the bar. However, it's not like that has worked out well for you before. Ex-girlfriends and all.

You shrug and return to grab the copy of Wanda's ID and her physical one.

"Here you go." She lays the form down on the counter as you hand back her ID. She quickly places it in her small red wallet before gazing at you. "I can show you to the table and let you get comfortable as I prepare the stencil."

Wanda nods, and you notice her hands pull at the end of her sleeves. "It'll be fine." You whisper and nod at her before leading her to your section of the shop.

It's a cute corner full of all your favorite photos, knickknacks, and collectibles from over the years.

The owner is your former mentor and teacher. And usually, on a Saturday morning, the shop would be busy, but for some reason, it's just you and Wanda.

Not that the brunette minded. Obviously. The fewer people around, the better.

So, as you slid into your chair and hit a few buttons on the machine, Wanda stood by the table with the sheet on it.

As the stencil finished printing, you turned back. "Oh shoot. I'm sorry." You got up with a laugh. "Would you like a water or soda or anything?" Wanda was about to shake her head before she looked over your face.

Yeah, she was thirsty.

"A water. Please." You smiled at her command. "Of course." You turned and bent down to the mini fridge at your feet. You pulled out a water bottle and got up before handing it to her. "Thank you." She replied as she took it.

"You can set it down right here." You pointed to a spot on the cart next to the table that Wanda would be laying on soon. "And anytime you need to take a break or have a sip of water. Whatever. During the tattoo, say something, and I'll stop." You made sure Wanda found your eyes. "Okay?" You asked again until she nodded. "Okay."

You closed your mouth and turned back to the stencil to hold in a "good girl."

Wanda's eyes went wide as she blushed.

She definitely didn't mean to hear that!

"Okay..." You cleared your throat and held up two different sizes. "We can place them, and then you can decide which size you want or-"

"That one." Wanda cut you off as she stepped closer to the one in your right hand. "This is perfect." She said under her breath, but you heard her, and it made you smile. "This one." She said as her eyes found yours.

You nodded. "Let's do it." You placed the smaller stencil down. "Okay, and placement... you didn't say on the from."

Wanda sheepishly nodded. "I was thinking my back..." You nodded. "Okay." But when Wanda didn't move, that's when you put two and two together. "Oh, sorry! I'll give you some space." You went to get up and walk away after drawing the curtain to your space close, but Wanda, without thinking, grabbed your arm and stopped you. "I wasn't thinking earlier and-" Wanda stopped herself with a sigh before she laughed.

Angelic.

Wanda's lips spread into a broader smile. You saw her begin to come out of her shell just a little more.

"I'm not wearing a bra." She said before she bit her bottom lip and looked away.

You could tell she was trying to hide her embarrassment. So you reached your hand to the one she had on your arm. "That's okay." You said before you moved your thumb over her knuckle.

Butterflies flew in both of your stomachs.

"May I?" You ask as you lifted your hand off of hers. Wanda nodded and watched your eyes lift themselves to her hoodie zipper. She felt your thumb brush the skin just below her neck.

Soft was her skin, but Wanda felt it burn once your touch left her.

And then you moved the zipper south just the tiniest bit before Wanda lifted her eyes to yours. "I-or- uh, you can unzip it a-and turn it around so the back of the hoodie covers your front."

Wanda heard you stumble and watched how your eyes looked her face up and down. She enjoyed it.

"I can do that." You smiled back and removed yourself from the room to give Wanda privacy.

Less than a minute later, she called you back in. She had her arms over her body as she held the hoodie close to her front. Meanwhile, Wanda's back was exposed to you, and you could see a faint tan line and several moles and beautiful tiny freckles along her body.

"You okay?" You asked as you put a pair of new gloves on before getting the spray and stencil ready. "Yeah," Wanda replied. "Just a little cold."

You stopped and looked around the room. In the winter, you had a heater in here, but with it being late spring, that was long gone. But your eyes did find something else.

"I have this." You pointed to a corner with a large hand-knitted red blanket that your friend Darcy made one semester in college before you dropped out. "You could bunch up under you, or I can place it on your lower back once you're on the table."

Wanda loved how kind you were being and thought about your suggestion. "Would it get in your way?" You shook your head. "Not at all." Wanda believed you. "Okay. Thanks." She smiled and grabbed the blanket. You watched her wrap around her lower back. "I guess I shouldn't have worn a skirt today." Wanda gave a laugh that made your heart skip, and your mouth said words before you could stop it.

"I think you look beautiful."

Wanda's face turned red like your blanket, and the stencil went still in your hand.

"Oh shit!"

Wanda heard your thoughts and said something before you could. "Thank you..." She bit her bottom lip and turned around so you could place the stencil on her back.

A couple of seconds when you came back to Earth, you did.

"Okay." You took a step away. "See how it looks." Wanda turned her head to the right and found the mirror beside you.

It was perfect.

She knew the process was going to hurt, but in this moment, Wanda would do anything to feel closer to the ones she lost.

"I love it." She said after clearing her throat.

That's when you realized that this wasn't just a random flower. This meant something.

"Perfect." You smiled at her green eyes. "Here." You took your gloves off. "Get comfortable, and I'll adjust the blanket however you want." Wanda let you take it from her and noticed as you turned around to give her a little privacy as she laid onto the table.

She smiled at that. "Okay." She said, and from her 90-degree angle, she watched you turn around. She then felt the blanket cover her entire lower body. It was nice and warm. The act and the care behind it.

"Good?" You bent forward, making Wanda nod. "Awesome." You said. "Remember, if at any point you need to stop, let me know." Wanda nodded once again before parting her lips. "Should we come up with a safe word?"

Your glove snapped as it went around your hand when you stopped at her words. You weren't sure if Wanda was joking, but when you saw her pearly whites, you once again got to see her leaving her shell.

You smiled back.

"Wow, Wanda, take a girl to dinner first." You said back as you picked up the tattoo gun and tested it. Wanda laughed over the noise that scared her just slightly before saying: "Pancake."

You knew what she meant. Even if her accent made the word sound exotic. "Pancake." You repeat. She nodded, getting hair into her eyesight that she blew away. "Pancake, it is Wanda." You then rolled the stool closer to her. "I'm about to start. Don't be afraid to bunch your hands and scream or whatever. You'd be surprised what people do."

"I'll be sure to do all of those things." Wanda joked with a wide smile before she felt your arm rest on her back. The contact sent a wave of goosebumps over her body once again. "Are you still cold?" You asked with the needle inches from her.

"I'll be fine." Wanda lied. "Remember Pancake." You said, earning a thumbs up from the brunette.

Seconds later, Wanda was receiving her first tattoo.

Time passed as Wanda did her best not to let the tears in her eyes fall. She knew you were being careful and cautious. Gentle and light. But god, this hurt.

As you moved further down the flower, your eyes briefly looked at Wanda's, and you saw the water filling them. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to..." You were going to talk to her to distract her from the droning buzz of the gun and the pain that came with it. "But." You continued. "I'm always curious about people's first tattoos." Wanda sniffled as her green eyes looked at you. "So why this one?"

Wanda let out a breath. She appreciated that you wanted to know more. "It's the national flower of Sokovia." She said, and you stopped shading as you looked down to her face. She was looking down at you. "Sokovia?" You asked, making her nod.

You knew of Sokovia.

You saw the news reports and watched the footage of buildings falling from the face of the earth. You knew about Ultron and the Avengers. And now how the once Eastern European country was slowly being washed from the world maps.

"You're Sokovian?" You asked. "I am," Wanda replied with her accent heavy. You gave a weak smile and paused before saying. "I'm sorry for what happened."

Wanda swallowed the tears in her throat.

You weren't the first person to apologize for the actions based upon others, but you were the first person who probably meant it.

"Thank you." She quietly replied before letting out a breath and some words of truth. "I was there."

You now leaned back in your stool. Maybe this was a good time for a break.

"When it was lifted into the air?" You asked, earning a nod. And as opposed to asking why she was there or how she survived like Wanda would've expected, you instead asked: "Do you have any favorite memories of Sokovia before you left?"

Wanda took in your words and thought about it.

She nodded.

"Sokovia was always on the brink of Civil War and had an uneasiness to it." Wanda paused and lifted up to drink some water. As she moved, she felt the pain and warmth from the fresh art on her body. Nevertheless, she knew the two of you had a while to go. "But.." Wanda smiled as she laid back onto her stomach. "There was this park close to our apartment. Every day after school, I'd run to the swings and try and launch myself as high as possible." Wanda laughed. "I wanted to fly."

You smiled, and for some reason, it was like you could see the stories clearly in your head.

It was beautiful.

"Nights I loved. After schoolwork and chores when it was just my brother Pitero and our parents watching old American sitcoms and having meals, my Mama grew up with..." Wanda trailed off as her voice became soft. "Those nights I'd give anything to have again."

Wanda didn't even feel the tear slip from her eyes.

But you saw it glimmer in the light, and within a second, your gloves were off as you handed Wanda a tissue.

Her fingertips brushed yours as she took it. "I'm sorry." She patted under her eye. "This is so embarrassing." Wanda balled up the tissue before you reached out for it. "No, it's not." You said as Wanda placed the tissue in the palm of your hand. "I think it's sweet." You smiled at Wanda before getting up to quickly wash your hands.

"I'd love to hear more about Sokovia as long as you want to keep talking about it." You said as you slipped on a new pair of black gloves.

Wanda shook her head yes.

And once the needle made contact with Wanda's skin again, did she tell you stories about the bake shop down the block from her school. Or how her brother was almost kicked off the school's track team. She also recounted her favorite episodes of Bewitched once you teasingly pressured her.

The conversation flowed naturally, and by the end, Wanda didn't feel the pain in her back. She only felt it in her cheeks because she was smiling so damn much.

"Okay." You put the gun down and wiped down Wanda's tattoo one last time. "You're free." You joked with a smile as you tossed your gloves away.

"Oh god, I don't think I've ever been so stiff." Wanda cracked her neck before she moved her legs off the table. She wobbled once her feet hit the ground, but thankfully, you were quick to stabilize her. "Here." You handed Wanda her water. "Don't need you passing out or anything before you see it."

Wanda gladly took a few sips before handing it back.

She then took a few steps forward before turning her exposed back to the mirror on the wall. As her green eyes made contact with the black art, she gasped and let out a ragged breath.

"I love it." She whispered before glancing over at you. Your eyes instantly connected to hers. "I love it." She repeated. Her eyes went back. "It's perfect." Up and down, her eyes went before she turned around to grab her phone.

A smaller iPhone than you were used to seeing.

"Could you take a picture?" She asked you, to which you nodded and smiled like a dummy as Wanda turned her back to you.

"Okay." You said after you perfectly framed her body. "I took about fifteen." You laughed before remembering the phone in your pocket. "Wanda?" You looked up at her. "Hmm?" She lifted her face from her phone. "Could I take a few pictures for my Instagram and website?"

"Of course."

Normally, she would've said no. She hated getting her picture taken. But normally, Wanda didn't get tattoos or become this close to someone like this.

Like you.

You were special.

"Thank you." You nodded to her as you put your phone down and grabbed some hand sanitizer. "Okay, let's get the wrap on, and then I can go over the aftercare."

Wanda's focus was back on you, and she hung on your every word.

"Y/N?" Wanda spoke up as your hand slimmed out the clear wrapping on her tattoo. "Wanda?" You said in the same tone, making Wanda teasingly roll her head away from you.

"I was thinking..." She started as you lifted your touch away from her soft skin. "Yes?" You asked as Wanda turned her face back to you.

She cleared her throat and sat up on the table.

"Could I have the pictures you took?" You easily nodded. "Sure, I can DM you on your Instagram or-"

"You could text them," Wanda said with confidence clear in her voice.

You stopped. "Or I could text them." You smiled as you stood up and grabbed a pamphlet of the aftercare process for Wanda to follow. "Here is everything you need to know." Wanda took it gently from your fingers. "What lotions to use. What soaps to not use... I could also text you this information. If you'd like."

You said as Wanda looked up and handed you back the pamphlet.

"You can text me."

You nodded. "Then I'll text you." Wanda shyly looked away from you as you both wore pink on your faces.

You looked around your space. "If you'd like to use the bathroom, it's just down the hall to the right. If not, I can meet you at the counter, and we can discuss cost. I'll only be a couple of minutes."

Wanda nodded and got up. She pulled the black curtain to your space back and was about to step out when she stopped herself and turned around to you. "Thank you. For everything. I'll probably thank you repeatedly, but I want you to know I mean it. They were with me before, but now their little flower has one for them. " She gave a watery smile, and before you could respond, Wanda walked away.

Wanda pulled out her phone, brushed her eyes, pulled her hoodie around, and stared at the tattoo pictures until you joined her at the front.

When you did, you held the red blanket Wanda had been using earlier. "Here." You said as you sat down next to Wanda on the waiting couch. "I'll text you it later, but one of the final steps of aftercare is to have a warm blanket nearby. So here."

Your kindness throughout the whole day meant more than you'd ever know.

Wanda swallowed and reached over, letting her hand run through the blanket before grabbing yours. Soft was her touch.

You let her fingers brush over your knuckles. "Is there a step about good company?" Wanda questioned as her voice became thicker with her accent. Her body leaning forward. "Yes." You nodded. "Company is supposed to take care of dinner." Your voice had become slow as you carefully weaved into this space with Wanda.

"Dinner?" Wanda husked. You simply smiled. "Text me when you're free?" You raised an eyebrow as Wanda looked up and scrunched her face.

She hadn't felt this way in a long time.

And neither had you. So when Wanda gripped your hand and gave you a very nervous but small peck on the lips, you let her.

And Wanda let you give her a discount even though she used the remaining cash she had as a tip.

Moments later. "Sent." Wanda received your text with a blushing emoji quickly, followed by a detailed step-by-step aftercare plan with a video in case Wanda needed it. "Thank you." She said before she texted back an emoji with a smile.

"I'll text you!" Wanda said in response to you as you closed the door to the shop behind her. Only then did you notice that your open sign had been flipped to close.

You didn't remember doing that.

But it didn't matter. You found yourself smiling and laughing all day. Learning about a country you were going to search traditional dishes from.

You met Wanda.

Wanda Maximoff.

You blushed when she texted you about a half hour later, letting you know that she had made it home safe. Wanda then sent a picture of her with the red blanket wrapped around her body.

You and Wanda texted every single day before and after your first date. You made Sokovian meals for her and took her around the city to let her experience anything she wanted. You held her close and kissed her as the two of you found yourselves under the same red blanket. You told her you loved her two months after she introduced you to her co-workers/housemates.

And now, as you wait for Wanda to text you after her mission in Lagos, are you working on a flash tattoo sheet of a scarlet witch.

Your girlfriend.

Wanda Maximoff. Your Sokovian Flower.

dividers by @/benkeibear

238 notes · View notes

chanshoesunite · 7 months

Text

Chan on the Beach

Content Info: Chan and Y/N meet on a beach in Australia at Christmas and have some fun. This is an edit of Hare's bday fic for Tortoise. No beta we die like Y/N's resistance against lifeguard Chan.

Word count: around 6K

Warnings: semi-public sex, dirty talk

„Aaaah, this is the life!”

You reach over to grab your Virgin Lavender Mojito off the little table next to your lounger. Taking a sip through your plastic-free straw, you let your gaze, well-protected behind your heart-shaped shades, wander across the bay. From your position high up next to the rooftop pool of the renowned ��Park Hyatt Sydney”, you can see the world-famous opera house.

“I know, right?” Your best friend Hare is next to you, holding a flashy pink cocktail. “Bless this job!”

As a pilot, Hare is allowed to bring someone along whenever she needs to fly over one of the major holidays, and since it’s Christmas in Austria right now and you’ll only fly back on the 28th, she chose her best friend to keep her company in her five-star hotel. There really are worse fates.

You stand to let your gaze properly explore the vicinity. “Do you fancy going to the beach?” you ask, spying the almost glisteningly white sand in the distance.

Hare raises an eyebrow at you, which you only realise because now it appears behind her sunglasses. “And getting eaten by a shark? Is this your idea of a good time?”

You giggle. “Oh, come on, there are safety nets. And anyway, I was thinking we could do one of those fun videos where you throw sand and I twirl in it? You know, for the Gram?”

Hare looks like she has half a mind to protest, might find this not worth the hassle, but then her smile softens. “Sure,” she says. “Let me check with the hotel staff to find the best beach access for us.”

…

An hour later, you are in your gloriously colourful bikini, twirling barefoot in the sand even though it’s too hot for comfort – not that you would give that away and ruin your Instagram reel, though. Hare is holding your phone, trying to get the perfect angle to have the sun glistening in a golden hour-way on the water.

“And now the sand,” you prompt. “You kinda just let it fly in the breeze, so it looks nice behind me.”

Hare looks dubious for a second. “What if I mess up and hit someone else?” You wave it off. “There’s nobody around!”

It’s true enough – it’s around dinner time, and your stretch of the beach is, possibly due to the holiday, rather empty. Hare nods. “Okay, sure.” She bends down to grab some of the white sand and repositions herself to throw it into the air. You twirl, and from the way Hare’s lips widen into a grin, you can tell it’s a great shot. You can already imagine how amazing you’ll look and how many likes you’ll get, maybe you should cross-post it on TikTok and-

“Oi!”

Both of you turn to see someone standing there. And what a someone. Well, two someones, actually, but your eyes are glued to Someone Number One. He isn’t exactly tall, but well built, his black swimming shorts showing off his narrow hips and creating a marvellous contrast to his thoroughly-trained upper body. He has a sharp jawline that you would like him to use to cut you into chips, a big nose, well-formed cheek bones and beautiful eyes that are, admittedly, currently glaring at you. “What’s that all about?”

One glance at his wet upper body, which is now covered in sand, tells the entirety of what happened – that he is the unwilling participator in an Instagram challenge gone just a little wrong.

Hare gets her bearings faster, but from the way she eyes the taller, lithe man next to the buff grumpy guy, you assume that in order to get into her head, you would have to pass an 18+ ID check. “Sorry, we didn’t see you there and meant absolutely no harm!” She extends one of their towels to the taller guy who looks a little like a Korean forest fairy. “Here, please.”

The guy accepts the towel from her, cleaning his (for his build) substantial abs. You tear your gaze away and meet the buff dude’s eyes, who sarcastically pulls up one eyebrow. For a second, you don’t know what to do.

“Oh!” You realise he’s expecting you to also offer him a towel, so you do. At the way you briefly flounder around, your nemesis’ face softens, and a little smile plays on his face. It’s a good look on him, you decide. “Cheers”, he thanks you, cleaning himself up. “What were you even doing there, throwing sand?” he asks, somewhat curious and content now that the sand isn’t on his pecs but your expensive hotel towel. His voice is still a little gruff, a little dark, a little deep, his Australian accent making it all the more delicious.

Hare, the ever-trusting girl that she is, extends her phone to him. “I was filming a slow-mo reel. It looks absolutely gorgeous if you ask me. Sorry again, but it was kind of worth hitting you with sand for it.”

The two men watch the reel and you can feel your face heating up. You haven’t even seen it yourself yet, and now those two handsome dudes get to do so before you?! You should be mad at Hare, but from the way buff guy’s face softens watching it, you really, really can’t.

Handing her phone back to Hare, the guy looks at you. “You’re beautiful in this,” he says, a little sparkle in his dark eyes. “If I can follow you on Instagram, you’re forgiven.”

Ummmmmm. That’s a statement you haven’t anticipated. You gulp a bit. “Okay,” you agree, and accept the phone back from Hare to open the app for him. Your hand brushes his as you hand it over, and the back of your neck prickles. At the touch, his eyes find yours, and he smirks just the tiniest bit before focusing on the device to type in his Instagram handle. You feel a little lost for words, so you look over at Hare, who confidently winks at you. “Maybe we can buy you two a drink in order to make up for the, er, Sand Incident?”

The other boy chuckles. You take a moment to look at him more carefully and appreciate his fine features, his longer hair tied back in a ponytail. He is beautiful, no doubt about it, but you prefer his shorter friend. “That’s a lovely offer, but we’re actually headed to a party later.” Ponytail glances at the Short King. “But actually…?”

The Short King has finished typing his name. “Yeah, how about you come along?” he finishes the sentence. “I’m Chan,” he adds as he hands back the phone, “but lots of people call me Chris.” Chan nods at the phone and you glance at the handle. “Chanstopher97”. Oh, he’s younger, too. Hot. You accept his following request.

“And I’m Hyunjin.” The other boy smiles at Hare in a way that shows you he seems just as taken with your friend as her body language suggests she is with him. Nice.

“I’m Y/N,” you take charge of the conversation now, and there is a laugh dancing in Chan’s eyes. “And that’s Hare. And about our evening plans…” You look over at Hare, hoping to telepathically communicate that you’re not ready to make this impromptu decision without talking it through with her first.

Hare smiles. “We have dinner plans, but why don’t you text Y/N the address and we’ll see if we can meet you there?” You two share a look and you feel seen and comforted. Hare is keeping your options open but not consenting or refusing in your name.

There is slight disappointment in the two men’s faces, but that’s their issue. “All right,” Chan agrees, running a hand through his darkly wet hair and you are mesmerised by the way the muscles flex on his arms. “I’ll text you in a bit.” He smiles at you. “I really hope to see you there. It’s at the beach, but it does get cool at night, so make sure to bring a hoodie.” He pauses strategically. “Or you can always wear mine.”

You bite your lip to suppress a giddy grin, and his eyes follow the movement. There is an almost hungry quality in his gaze before it flickers back up to again. “See you later.” The confidence he lays into these three words is astounding but very attractive.

Hyunjin smiles sweetly at Hare, which she reciprocates, and then the two men make their way up the beach, in such a manner that the two of you can appreciate their backsides. When they turn around, you feel caught, and the slight blush on Hare’s face betrays the fact that she is experiencing the same emotion. As if in unspoken agreement, you both turn around and sink down in the sand, onto your respective towels that are already dirty anyway.

You are quiet for a moment. Then- “Well, damn,” Hare says.

“Damn,” you agree.

“He’s really hot.”

“I know. Mine too.”

“There’s one for each of us.”

“Yeah.”

Hare glances over at you. “How do you feel about a beach party on Christmas Day in Australia?”

You watch the setting sun glittering on the waves. How do you feel about this? On the one hand, many strangers in one place, mixed with alcohol, are never on top of your list when it comes to a desired evening programme. On the other hand, the party doesn’t have to be where they stay, does it? And Chan, Chris… He is really something. If he were lavender lemonade, you’d sip him. Hehe. Also, as a pilot, Hare has to stay sober, so there will be at least one reasonable person around – or, knowing your besty, at least a sober one.

“I think,” you say slowly. “Theoretically, if we didn’t like it, we could go home at any time. And we can share our location in case we lose each other.”

A slow smile spreads across Hare’s face, reminding you of a cartoon cat who has spotted an especially delicious baby bird. “All right,” your besty agrees. “Let’s party tonight.”

…

Chan texts the details within ten minutes of meeting you and you try not to let it get to your head. Hare and you enjoy an outstanding dinner on the hotel’s rooftop terrace, a Christmas present from the airline, and don’t let the prospect of two hot Korean men on a beach force you to hurry through the five delicious courses. Afterwards, you throw on bikinis, shorts, cute tops and pack long-sleeved items as well, just to be on the safe side. With on-fleek eyeliner and beautiful lipstick, you must surely be the hottest besty duo that has ever walked the hallways of this grand hotel, or so you think on their way downstairs to catch your Uber.

The party location seems to be a dive bar, and as you approach the hut, you are relieved to see that while there is a crowd gathered, it is not overwhelming. The last rays of sunlight are winking over the horizon as the two of you enter the bar.

The interior design is a little bit clichéd in its maritime theme, but since this is your first authentic dive bar experience, you don’t mind. You glance at the nets, the taxidermied swordfish, the life belts, take in the Jack Johnson song playing, and decide you like it. The bar is situated in the middle of the wooden building, an “o” marking the centre of the spot. And right there, behind the counter, drawing a beer, is-

“Is that Chan?” Hare asks the exact moment you realise that your crush is actually working here. Your gaze falls onto Hyunjin next to him, wiping glasses, and the women waiting to catch their attention in front of the bar. “Well,” you conclude. “It seems we’re here for the most popular boys. Damn.”

Hare grabs your hand. “That won’t stop us,” she disagrees. “After all, we are the hottest here.”

She pulls you towards the bar, and it is almost eerie how fast Chan’s head snaps up to meet your eyes. His slowly crinkle as he begins to smile. “You came!” he calls over the music and the waiting people, and some of them actually make space for Hare and you. “We came,” you confirm, propping your elbows up on the bar. “And you came to work, by the looks of it?”

Chan seems sheepish for a moment, but quickly shakes it off. “We are only doing the first shift,” he explains, “and then we’ll be all yours.” He gestures around the room. “You can check out the place or the beach if you’d like. Or hang out with us back here?” He has one hand on the door that swings inward and allows for entrance into the centre of the bar.

Hare glances at Hyunjin. “If we hang out back here, will you make us a kickass alcohol-free cocktail?”

Hyunjin smiles – he really looks good in his loose Celine racerback; you have to admit that. “My pleasure,” he says in a voice that is deeper than you remember.

Hare turns to you. “Beach or bar?” she asks.

You barely hesitate. “Bar.”

…

If someone had asked you a few months ago if spending Christmas day behind a bar sounded like fun, you probably would have refused to even consider the possibility. But this – sitting on chairs with Hare, sipping the amazingly lavender-flavoured cocktail Hyunjin created for you, watching the men work, throwing dish towels or napkins at them in jest – this is a perfectly lovely evening. There isn’t much time to chat, but just by looking at them interact with each other, their customers and their work, you get a better idea of their characters.

Chan seems to be caring, friendly, supportive, flirty, Hyunjin appears to be sweet, sassy and a little on the dramatic side. Both of them react well to the sarcastic comments Hare sometimes throws their way, teasing her back and each other. It is obvious that they are firm friends and likely have been for a long time.

“Hey, Hyunjin, your mojito game is actually pretty weak,” Hare exclaims, hopping off her barstool and joining the taller Korean man at the bar, elbowing him gently. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

Hyunjin’s gaze at her is challenging, but he hands her the bottle. “I am ready to be impressed.”

Someone snorts next to you, and you glance up to find Chan very close to you, also watching the two of them. “Hyunjin’s flirting technique need work,” he says, chuckling softly but not unkindly.

You arch an eyebrow at him. “And yours doesn’t?”

Chan turns to you, and with you propped up on your high bar chair, the two of you are eye to eye. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice suddenly just a tiny bit rough, his eyes intense. You feel yourself blushing but don’t look away. “I am,” you agree.

He shrugs. “Then I don’t think it does.” Chan winks at you and returns to the considerable queue in front of the bar, slapping Hyunjin on the shoulder in the process. “Stop flirting!” he barks, and from the way his friend blushes and Hare starts giggling, you can tell that you are not the only one behind this bar who is experiencing chemistry between herself and a man she met at the beach mere hours ago.

The first shift passes quickly, and as the bar fills up, you love seeing Chan get just a little bit hot, his dark t-shirt, tight to begin with, sticking to him in all the right places.

Finally, when a few of their friends come to take over, Chan throws the dish towel he has been holding down onto the bar and turns to you. “Finished!”, he exclaims happily, an almost childlike joy at having completed his task on his face. He extends his hand to you, offering you help in jumping off the chair. You take his hand, and it’s just a little rough. Does he surf? Play the guitar? You intend to find out. Relishing the moment, you wait just a tiny bit before jumping off, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re firmly on your feet, either. You look up at him and there is something in his eyes. A dare to let go? Dream on, pretty boy, you think. I dare if you dare.

Hyunjin hands Hare two glasses – two more of the delicious mocktails, you are happy to see – and grabs two bottles of beer. “Shall we?”

The four of you leave the bar area and then the building behind, and you are thankful to be holding Chan’s hand so as to not lose him in the throng of people that seems to have been growing steadily throughout the past hour. Soon, your sandals hit the sand. There are beanbags on the beach, and miraculously, not all of them are occupied yet, possibly because the night air is just a little bit chilly already. Now you have to let go of Chan’s hand and follow the impulse to run across the now cool sand and throw yourself into an extra-large beanbag, giggling happily. Chan is not far behind, though, approaching you at a languid pace, two drinks in his hands which he has seemingly picked up from Hare and Hyunjin, watching you with a smile. When he is finally standing over you, you glancing up at him, his bravado seems somewhat diminished. “May I join you?” he asks, and when you wiggle just a little bit to the side and pat the newly gained space next to you, his smile widens again. He lets himself sink down next to you and you are overwhelmed by how much you like the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat and ocean breeze. Delicious.

It takes some arranging, but the two of you are finally comfortable side by side, your drinks secured in the sand, Chan crossing his arms behind his head and gazing up into the night sky. You can hear Hare giggle behind you as, by the sound of it, Hyunjin falls off a beanbag.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but you still decide to break it – after all, you want to get to know this delectable specimen better. “So, is this what Christmas usually looks like for you?” you ask.

Chan glances over at you and holds your gaze. Man, you really want to sink into those eyes. “The party’s a tradition,” he explains. “We always host it.”

“We?” You sit up a tiny bit, edging just a little bit closer, and from the way his body shifts towards you, you can feel that he welcomes the change. Your bare leg brushes against his and the skin-on-skin contact makes you antsy, but in a good way. This is exciting – the two of you both know where this will lead, but the timeline is yet unknown, ready to be discovered.

Chan nods. “The lifeguards. Hyunjin and I both work at this beach.”

You process the info quickly and file it away under the category “hot”. “That’s extremely cool,” is what you say, though. “Very responsible.”

The man seems to be blushing a bit and you love how his cool behaviour falls away when he’s being himself. It’s endearing. “I am a huge ocean enthusiast. I am actually currently writing my dissertation on various measures that could be taken to effectively clean the ocean, you know, to remove all of the microplastic. I’m trying to create a filter that can be produced cheaply and applied across all water temperatures.”

Your mouth actually hangs wide open at this. “So, you’re hot AND super smart?!” you blurt out. “That hardly seems fair!”

Chan smirks at this, but there is no denying that he is flattered and cajoled. “And you haven’t even seen me bench press yet,” he jokes.

You laugh. “I’d love to, though,” you say, more serious than you mean to be.

He grins widely. “Well, if you’ll have any more of those cocktails, maybe I’ll have to carry you back later.”

It’s a joke, you both know it, but you notice the exact moment where you both think about him picking you up and maybe pinning you up against a wall. The mood shifts for a moment, it feels less playful and more explicit. The silence is heavy, almost alive with an electric current.

Chan clears his throat. “You haven’t told me yet what a beautiful publicist from overseas is doing in Australia at Christmas.”

Thankful for the distraction, you tell him about the trip, about your job, and as you sip your respective drinks, you establish a shared love for TV shows, bubble tea, colourful hair, non-spicy foods. If this were a first date, it would be absolutely amazing, but sadly, this can’t be a first date, because in less than seventy-two hours, you will be on your way back, and you are severely jetlagged, having arrived only today, and this will merely be a three-day-thing, if at all. You try not to be sad about this, but it’s hard.

Chan seems to sense your distress. “Is everything all right?” he queries, using his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smile. “Yeah. I was just thinking that I’d love to not leave in three days.” This feels like way too big a confession for this casual hook-up, but somehow, simultaneously, it also feels just right.

He seems to contemplate this, then takes your hand. “Want me to show you my lifeguard hut? You can see pretty far from up there.” It’s a distraction, but it’s working, so you nod and smile at him. Chan pulls you to your feet and just as you turn to tell Hare where you're intending to go, you can see her sitting in Hyunjin’s lap, making out with him. Shrugging, you turn back to Chan – after all, you can both access each other’s locations on your phones and Hare knows how to handle a dude. “You know,” you say boldly, “This could be us.”

Chan pulls you after him, towards the lifeguard station. “Oh, don’t worry,” he says with casualness that makes you shiver in anticipation, “it will be.”

…

Chan’s workspace is actually more elaborate than you anticipated. It’s a little hut on a raised platform so he can seek shelter from the sun while watching the ocean. The bottom of the steps is sealed for the night with a chain-link fence so unauthorized or drunk people won’t be tempted to climb up, but Chan produces a key from a chain around his neck and unlocks it so you can access the platform. You go first, but he keeps his hand on your lower back, steadying you, and you have to admit you like it.

Upon arriving at the top, you are greeted by a few solar lanterns glowing in the dark, illuminating your surroundings. You are maybe four metres up above the ground, but everything – the party goers down the beach, the music, the noise – seems miles away. The only thing you can feel is the wind and Chan’s warm hand against your side, and then there is the glorious sound of the sea. The lanterns also reveal that the chair Chan must usually spend his days in is folded up against the railing, replaced by a picknick blanket and a few throw-pillows. You turn to meet his eyes, into this half-embrace he has going on, and his hand finds your lower back again, pressing you softly to his firm chest. “Did you prepare this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Chan does have the decency to blush. “I was hoping our night would go this way, I must admit.”

Briefly, the thought that Chan must do this all the time, that this must be his move, makes an appearance, but you actually don’t really care to slut-shame the man. Good for him, he is hot and sweet AND smart, you hope that he has lots of amazing sex, but tonight, preferably with you.

You take it all in – the waves crashing against the sand, the darkness softened by the glow of the lanterns, Chan’s huge hand splayed across your lower back, his scent, his face just inches from yours. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

Chan briefly closes his eyes before opening them. There is a tiny smile on his lips. “Please,” he whispers. And so, you slowly, anticipation rising in your gut, close the distance and softly place your lips against his. Your first thought is how soft they are as you slowly move, placing your hands against his chest, then sliding them upwards, holding his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Chan tastes of beer and chewing gum, but you don’t mind, you don’t have the capacity to think as his tongue touches yours and suddenly, this isn’t slow anymore, this is heat and lust and want and need. Chan’s hands are still at your lower waist, but from the way he is pressing you against him, you can tell that he wants to touch you, he is just too chivalrous to give in to his passion. You grab hold of one of his hands and place it very deliberately against your bum cheek as you pull his lower lip between your teeth and bite. Chan groans into your mouth, his left hand joining his right on your ass, and then he is lifting you up, pressing you against the railing, thoroughly devouring your mouth all the while.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and one of his hands slides down to touch your bare thigh while he breaks the kiss, pressing his lips to your throat, nibbling, licking, sucking. A moan escapes you, and you can feel him hardening in his pants. Without waiting for him to do it, you pull your shirt off so you’re just in your bikini top, and Chan immediately shifts your weight onto the railing and his left arm so he can slide his hand under the fabric and play with your nipples. At the first slight touch, you are already whining, arching into the touch, and Chan’s chuckle is half mean, half adoring as he watches you respond to him. With your bikini top askew, you feel that the clothing ratio between the two of you is a little unfair, so you pull at his shirt, and he actually stops teasing you for long enough so you can get it off of him. Unfortunately, you don’t have long to admire his physique, because as soon as the offending garment is discarded onto the floor, Chan leans forward to capture one of your nipples between his lips, and your moan is much throatier this time, needier, and you can feel Chan shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he breathes against your chest, making you shudder as the air hits your wet nipple.

“I want you, too,” you admit, stroking your hand across his pecs and earning another groan. “Can you take me like this? Up against the railing?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. “You want me to rail you against the railing?”

You groan at the dad joke, but, for once, not in pleasure. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yup. And speaking of right into…” He slides one hand into your shorts, going straight for your pussy and parting your lower lips with his forefinger so that any protest you had against his stupid pun dies on your lips. “Fuck, you are so wet,” he sighs. “I’d love to stretch you out with my cock.”

You cock your head to the side. “So why don’t you, then?”

At that dare, Chan crashes his lips to yours and your tongues dance wildly together as he slowly strokes your clit with his fingers, making you gasp into the kiss, before abruptly breaking away. “Fuck, let me just grab a condom real quick,” he says as he puts you down gently, placing an almost sweet kiss against your lips before approaching a bag that you didn’t notice earlier. You quickly discard your shorts and bikini bottoms; now only in your bikini top, you lean against the railing and watch the shoulders in Chan’s back work deliciously as he bends over, searches his bag and finally grabs a foil package before slipping it into the pockets of his shorts. Then he joins you again, scooping you up in his strong arms. You seize the opportunity to hold onto them and stroke them as he lifts you again and captures your lips in another scorching kiss. Your wet core presses against his naked lower abs, and Chan moans at the feeling. He lowers you just a little bit, grinding his still-clothed cock against your aching pussy as he presses kisses to your throat, your cleavage, any spot of bare skin he can reach.

“Please, Chan!” You might be begging at this point, but who cares, actually, he feels big and you want to see and especially feel if that’s the case. “I needed you inside of me like five minutes ago!” He stills, breathing heavily against your skin. “Fuck, okay,” he finally rasps after a moment of silence. “Hold on.”

You put your legs onto the railing, propping yourself up while Chan sheds his shorts and underwear, but not before grabbing the condom from his pocket. You watch as he tears open the package and rolls it over his indeed fairly large cock – it almost makes your mouth water and you promise yourself that before the night is over, it will literally make your mouth water.

Having finished his preparations, Chan steps back into the space between your legs, and you pull him closer. Your kiss is slower, more deliberate as he strokes his tongue against yours, tempting you, seducing you. And then his hard cock is pressed against you, and you shift, allowing him to press into you. Slowly, you feel yourself being filled, stretched by his girth, and you moan loudly as centimetre after centimetre disappears into your tight pussy. Unconsciously, you try to shift away from the intrusion, but Chan’s hands on your hips hold you steady, so you can do nothing but give in and take it. Chan’s tongue is back on your nipple, distracting you from the stretch by stimulating you sweetly, and the way he groans against your skin, muttering how amazing you feel, how tight your little pussy is, how good you are being for him, turns you on even further so that you use your heels to pull him closer, pull him in more quickly.

Finally, when he’s fully inside of you, he comes back up to kiss you, the movement causing him to shift inside you, making you both gasp. You are completely naked, completely out in the open, you realise, and still, this moment is intimate, like you are the only two people left in the world. It’s uncomfortable, rushed, risky – and somehow still perfect.

Chan is visibly trembling with the effort of holding still. “Can I move?” he asks, his voice hoarse against your neck as he kisses you softly, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

You cups his cheek so he’ll meet your eyes. When he does, you say, “Fuck me.”

His pupils dilate, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice before he pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in with a force that knocks the breath out of you. Before you can recover, he does it again, setting a relentless rhythm, and you are caged between his body and the railing, his thrusts an assault to your very being, but in the best way possible. His body is blazing in the cool night air, keeping you warm as he worships your body, stroking you, kissing you, licking you, fucking you. And even though your weight must take its toll on him, he doesn’t show it, doesn’t let up, pushing into you again and again, filling you, taking you. You are both trying to keep it down, so your heavy breathing can be covered by the sound of the waves, but you would not bet on it working.

He bites your shoulder, suppressing a groan. “I won’t last long, baby, you feel too good. But don’t worry, I’ll make you come as many times as you want tonight. I’ll eat your sweet pussy until you beg me to stop.” You moan, nodding, as he once again sucks a nipple into his mouth. “That’s fair,” you breathe, and Chan chuckles as he seems to again redouble his efforts, railing you against the railing as his breaths become groans rising in pitch until he bites down on your shoulder once more, stilling inside of you.

The two of you stay locked in your embrace for a moment longer, your breaths calming, before Chan tenderly kisses you as he pulls out. Scooping you up into his arms, he lays you down on the blanket and finally removes your bikini top. Drinking in your naked form in the better light provided by the lanterns, Chan strokes his hands up your sides. “There is just something about you that makes it utterly impossible for me to keep my hands to myself,” he says almost wistfully, and then he is between your legs, kissing the insides of your thighs, nuzzling into them, licking his way up to where you need him. Finally, his tongue is on your clit, and he slides two fingers inside of you, and despite the fact that you are deliciously sore from the thorough way he has just fucked you, this is exactly what you need. His tongue writes letters against your clit, every movement unexpected and all the more exciting for it, and the steady rhythm of him finger-fucking you pushes you closer and closer to the edge. God, he looks so good on his knees for you. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, and the way he groans into your pussy makes you bite back a moan as well, biting your hand to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Your orgasm crashes over you like the waves below you, unrelenting and unavoidable, and you remove your hand, letting Chan hear your high-pitched moans.

Chan stills his hand to feel the contractions around his fingers, but continues to kitten-lick your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you still, shaking from the stimulation. Only then does he press a handful of kisses to your lower belly and move to join you on the blanket properly, propped up on his side on one elbow, pulling you close and pecking your cheek repeatedly until you turn to slowly, lazily, kiss him. His hand strokes your side again. “That was… Pretty fucking great,” he reminisces, and you can’t help but giggle at the verdict.

“It was,” you agree, dragging your nails up Chan’s veiny forearm, making him shiver. For a moment, the sound of the waves is the only thing you hear. “And you’re here for three more days?” Chan asks, a serious note in his playful tone.

You continue to feel his muscular arms as you nod. “That’s right. Why?”

Chan shrugs – awkwardly, given his current position. “Oh, nothing,” he dismisses the question. “I was just contemplating how often I can fuck you in three days.”

A slow grin spreads across your face. “I’d wager that a low to medium double-digit number could be achieved, don’t you agree?”

Chan’s face mirrors your expression. “Do you want to make a bet?” You shrug. “I’d rather suck your cock.” His expression is a mixture of shyness and surprise before it takes on a devilish note. “Well, in that case,” he says, his hand sliding to cup your arse, "be my guest."

#chanshoesunits #chanshoes everywhere all around the world #you make chanshoesunite stay #author hare #tortoise enjoyed this thank you v much #bang chan #stray kids #christopher bang #bang chan imagine #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #bangchan smut #author hare effectively writing herself into the story like the lil witch that she is

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pinkandlilacroses · 27 days

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Angel - Paige bueckers

part 6

• summary {in which an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}

• warnings {angst, it gets cute at the end tho}

averys pov

“avery why cant we tell them” azzi yells, this has been our third fight this week about this topic

“azzi you know why we cant” i say, sternly

“no i dont, thats why im asking”

“azzi, bellas in the other room. shut up” i say

“ok, fuck you” say says, walking out

azzis pov

azzi

- u home

paige

- pls dont come

- stay with avery please

azzi

- im coming

fuck paige has been weird lately, and she wont tell me

its definitely something with bella

i don’t know how bella doesn’t notice

paige is in love with her

“azzi what did i say” paige says, yelling, tears flooding her eyes and the neck of her shirt

“paige whats happening” i say, genuinely concerned for my best friend

she begins wailing. i’ve never seen her cry like this before

i quickly wall up and embrace her

“i fucked it” she says, barley getting her words out

“i want her and ill never be able to make her mine” she continues

“bella?” i question

“yes” she says, raising her voice

“im calling her”

“no, azzi, no, please don’t. please” she says, pleading, her voice growing louder

“paige, you need to talk to her. i’ve never seen you like this before” i say, authoritatively

“she hates me”

azzi is calling bella

“hey bella”

“hey”

“can you come over”

“yeah ill come now”

call ended

“paige this is a good thing, you guys need to talk”

bellas pov

i know this is about paige

id be lying if i said i was fine about this situation

i’m reality, i’ve been crying. everyday. at any given opportunity

i dont have any resentment towards paige, even though i definitely should. i mean, what she did was fucked

and she never explained herself, all she could say is “i cant do it” like what the fuck does that mean

knock, fuck i should leave

knock, i hate her

knock, no i dont

“hey bella” azzi says, bringing me into her embrace. i know azzi and avery are dating, but they cant tell anyone because avery cheated on jake with azzi, and she hates what she did. but she truly does love the girl, cute. i hate love

“paige is in her room”

walking towards paiges room, nerves surprisingly aren’t present. i felt calm, normal

“who is it” paige yells, across the door

“bella” i say, yelling back

paiges pov

“shit shit shit” i say to myself, i look awful. i didn’t think she would actually show up

i’ve been crying for what feels like years, and i finally can get everything off my chest. but i’m more terrified than ever before

she opens the door. fuck

“hey paige” she says softly, i cant bear to look at her. i dont want to see how she has effected me

“paige look at me” she says, sitting down next to me, leaning over. hand on my knee

i look at her

shock plastered on her face

she says nothing, bringing me close and wrapping her arms around me, protectively

“im so sorry” i say into her chest

“paige its ok, im not mad”

“yes you are, i fucked up” i say, tears beginning to form again

she moves so we are face to face, her laying on top of me

“you dont know how bad i want you bella, but i’m, i’m scared” i say, i’ve never been this vulnerable with a girl before. i feel weak

“paige its ok, theres no pressure” she says, reassuringly

“i know you dont feel the same, thats why ive been so down”

“how do you know, paige” she says, sternly. contrasting her previous tone

“it’s obvious” i say. is it?

“no its not, i want you the same amount that you want me” she says, staring intently into my tear filled eyes, that are forming once again

“really” i say, genuinely confused

“yes” she says, slightly laughing

this cant be real, how, what, when, where, why.

after everything i’ve done, she still likes me?

“paige, you there” she says, commenting on my spacing out

“are you sure” i say, coming back to reality

she responds by gently pressing her lips to my own

this kiss was different than any others i’ve experience, its sweet, loving. reflecting of how i feel about her, and i guess how she feels about me.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #uconn #azzi fudd

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fancyfeathers · 4 months

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The Hydro Knight

(Yandere Childe) (Normalized Yandere AU)

What happens when Childe’s darling goes to the darling of Signora to learn how to defend herself and fight…

going from this post and the credit to the names goes to @busy-dadzawa-fish who I asked if I could use the names they came up with here as placeholder names for the other darlings when writing from different perspectives

You sat on your sleeping bag, your head facing up at the stars above you. You couldn’t sleep, not tonight, so while everyone slept you sat awake. The days merged together now, every day the same, just trying to survive. You think your birthday was coming up soon but Archons you can’t remember when. Ajax- no, Childe probably remembered, after all he remembered you even after he left for the Fatui. He came back only to ask your parents for your hand, no letters, no word from him, not even from his family, nothing. He was obsessed with the idea of you, the ide of how you were when you were young together.

So that leads you to where you are now, on the run with a few others, a knight and ballerina from Mondstadt, a librarian from Fontaine, a medic from Sumeru, and from your home land of Snezhnaya, a hunter, and who you knew the longest a shopkeeper named Keina. Honestly you felt the most pity for her, she had worked hard for her whole life, building up everything to own a small business that was absolutely torn down by the ninth of the Fatui Harbingers, Pantalone, all because she rejected her proposal. She had worked for everything only to be crushed under his heel. You felt so similarly to her, you were planning on running your family’s business one day, not being a harbinger’s housewife.

You decided to stop trying to sleep so you stood yourself up, walking off to find another clearing in the woods as to not wake the others up. When you first left Snezhnaya and made your first stop on in Mondstadt you had found an old sword that you had fixed up for you. You didn’t really how how to use the sword but you figured that having a weapon was better than not having one at all, plus with you having a vision it would be smart to at least have a weapon to use with it.

“You’re going to hurt yourself swinging your sword like that.” A voice caught you completely off guard and you almost screams, but you were able to whip your head around and you only saw the familiar face of one of your travel partners, Clarus a former Knight of Favonius until he left Mondstadt to accompany you all. He was just wearing his travel clothes and jacket, no armor or anything else, he must have just woken up. You watched as he walked over to you, and nudged your legs to stand farther apart with one of his boots. His hands took you by the arm and guided you on how to stand. “You want to win a fight, you need to know how to stand. If your feet are to close together any Fatui agent could easily kick your legs in and get you to fall to the ground.”

“T-Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it, besides I’d rather not see you die in a fight.”

He helped you train that night and other nights following, unsurprisingly he could not sleep either. Clarus was a surprisingly good teacher, with his formal demeanor you would have expected him to be cold and stern, but he was kind just quiet. You learned that he helped train and teach the younger knights. You never asked about his days with Signora, you figured it would bring back bad memories for him even if he said that you could.

Then the news of the death of Signora came to you all. When your heard the news all of you turned to face the knight, reading him for a reaction but he cried. When you asked him why he cried he smiled and said. “I weep for joy, I am finally free.”

If only it stayed like that…

After the news your lessons stopped as Clarus returned to the Knights of Favonius, back to his position as an instructor. Then not even a week later you received news on how he was attacked on the way back to his some in Springvale. He was missing…

Meanwhile at the Zapolyarny Palace the hydro knight was forced down on his knees by Fatui agents in front of the Harbingers and the Tsaritsa herself. His lip was bleeding and he wore more than a few bruises. The Tsaritsa smiled down at the beat up knight, the letter he was going to send to you in hand.

“Ajax, come here.”

At the goddess’ words the red headed harbinger walked over to the Tsaritsa‘s side and she handed him the letter, letting him read it.

“It seems like this knight has taken your fiancé as his newest student…”

#yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere childe x reader #yandere Childe #childe x reader #yandere tartaglia

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 25 days

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ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter four: daydream

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,5k. warnings: language, they’re in a hospital. i am not a doctor, so if there are any medical inaccuracies in this chapter do not @ me 😭 they will be discussing depression and anxiety, and beomgyu does have a teeny episode, mention of blood (but it’s kinda a funny situation 🤣). an: first three screenshots, then written part, then the last three!

It is Spring. The world is doused in the bright colours of budding flowers that have overcome the harsh cold of winter. The breeze is cool and gentle, and the sun is warm and cozy, leaving the air in a comfortable equilibrium. At this time, the serene trail at Apsan Park would be teeming with hikers eager to conquer it and admire its entrancing beauty, families would be excitedly preparing for picnics under fluffy-clouded blue skies, and who could dare to forget Spring’s shining star: Daegu’s cherry blossoms, that would be out in full bloom at the Flower Garden, in their best and prettiest shades of pinks and whites, swaying on branches and sailing through the air like magic.

The door opens and Beomgyu’s reverie is pulled from under him. He falls back down to earth where his attention is drawn to the doctor stalking into the room on his squelching black crocs with a grave look on his face. He appears engrossed in whatever is printed out on the clipboard in his hands.

The ID card hanging from the lanyard around his neck — Yeungnam University Medical Centre, Dr. Seungcheol Choi, Internal Medicine — rattles in its plastic casing as he moves quickly and swiftly to the desk. He doesn’t look up to acknowledge Beomgyu where he stands by the window just behind the desk, but gestures for him to sit in the hard leather seat on the other side of it. Beomgyu purses his lips in a forced smile and nods.

The office is small, cold and smells strongly of disinfectant. The lack of indoor lighting makes the room look grey and dreary, the only colour at all provided by the medical posters and charts stuck against the glossy white walls. He supposes they are meant to serve an informative purpose, but merely feel eerie to him.

There is a long wooden bookshelf under the wall and against the window where he had stood, where, amongst the array of white papers with indecipherable scribbles written on them, is a sole photo of Dr. Seungcheol Choi and a friend at what appears to be their graduation ceremony.

Among the many things which unsettled him about being in this office, the photo and their big smiling faces brings Beomgyu a sense of solace.

After a long few minutes, Seungcheol sets the clipboard on his desk and finally considers his younger brother. Beomgyu takes the opportunity to notice with greater effort what he had noticed when he arrived at the hospital that morning: his brother looks older.

His cheeks have hollowed and his features are more prominent. His dark hair is cut like their father’s. There is fine stubble creating a light shadow along his jaw and below it. The thick bags under his eyes drive concern into Beomgyu’s heart. He wonders what his brother’s eyes have seen to give them the fatigued yet mature glow they shone with now.

“The good news is,” Seungcehol says, and even his voice sounds deeper when he speaks, “the results from the blood sample we took and sent for testing does not reflect anything terribly wrong. Your iron is a bit low, though, so I do recommend a good diet change. If that doesn’t work, iron supplements are readily available over the counter. If it gets worse, which I doubt in your case, you can make another appointment and they will give you an intravenous iron supplementation here at the hospital.”

The tension in Beomgyu’s shoulders eases just an inch and he sinks into the chair a little more comfortably. An iron deficiency was manageable. An iron deficiency made sense. And iron deficiency was not alarming. “That’s good. Very good.”

Seungcheol nods in agreement, but the frown pressed into his forehead tells there is more to it. Beomgyu slightly tenses up again. “What is it, Hyung?”

His brother picks up the clipboard, presumably carrying the details and results of Beomgyu’s check up, and turns to a specific page before handing it to him. “The results of the mental wellness screening test we did is a bit of concern for me.”

Beomgyu takes it from him and scans the page. Then he frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“Beomgyu, this screening test works a little like how a multiple choice test would. The only way to get everything wrong is if you know what all the right answers are. And your answer to every one of these questions seems to suggest that you strongly believe nothing is wrong with you. Which leads me to believe something strongly is.”

Beomgyu’s throat dries and chest feels heavy. His fingers press into the paper carrying test he had taken earlier that very morning. The answers he had marked with his own hand now glare back at him like an inescapable house of mirrors. The seed of fear that had been dormant by his own efforts begins to take root.

“I am not in the position to make an accurate diagnosis based on the screening test; I am not qualified in that way. I can, however, refer you to one of the best psychiatrists in Seoul – Dr. Junmyeon Kim. He’s a good sunbae of mine,” Seungcheol says, fishing in a drawer for a notepad and pen from the desk, “and he has lots of experience dealing with idols, actors – entertainment industry cases – specifically. I trust his abilities wholeheartedly,” he scribbles something on the paper and hands it to Beomgyu. “He is actually here today meeting with the psychiatry department. You can take that with you and –”

“What do you think it is, though?” Beomgyu’s voice comes out thick and shaky. He swallows heavily and finally manages to tear his eyes away from the paper in his hands to search his brother’s face. “Because it sounds like you have a pretty good idea.”

“I can’t say for sure – ”

“Hyung.” Beomgyu breathes a sharp pain beginning at his temples, “Tell me.”

Seungcheol sighs. “Considering what the screening test reflects, and what your friends have shared with me, you may have some form of high-functioning depression and anxiety. You’re able to go about your day normally: carry out tasks and interact with people just fine, but you still feel the symptoms of these illnesses just as any other patient would. And it sounds as if you may have been trying to suppress them too. Which may be what is causing your nightmares.” His eyes drop to his folded hands on the table for a long moment before returning to his little brother. His eyebrows furrow with concern. “Why didn’t you tell us about Vietnam, Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu’s heart races and his chest tightens. The room feels as if it is closing in on him. His hands tremble and his vision begins to blur so he squeezes his eyes shut.

But I am happy. I have a loving family. I have good friends. I have a job doing what I love. I have adoring fans. I am grateful. So why?

Why do I still feel so empty?

“Beomgyu. Hey, are you okay?” Seungcheol asks, his voice laden with concern as he rushes to his side. The image of the dark bags under his eyes flashes across Beomgyu’s mind, and he forces himself to still.

He feels Seunghcheol’s hand on his shoulder. His eyes open and he smiles. “I’m okay, Hyung. I am sorry that you came all the way from Daegu for this.”

“Beomgyu,” Seungcheol says firmly, yet gently, “it is my job to take care of you. As your brother, but also as a doctor. You need to know that you can ask for help if and when you need it.”

Beomgyu nods absently as he climbs to his feet and returns the report to his brother. He takes the referral from the desk and bows before walking to the door. “Thank you, Hyung.” He grabs the door and pauses, his fingers tightening around the knob. “Don’t… tell mom and dad about this. They’ll worry too much. And thank Kibum-hyung for allowing us to use his office.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Of course. It’s your decision to make. Don’t forget to call after you speak with Dr. Kim.”

Beomgyu nods once more and greets his brother before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

Feet comes thundering down the hallway suddenly and Beomgyu jumps, frightened out of his consuming thoughts. He shoves the letter into his pocket.

His eyes dart around anxiously, but laughs when he finds Yeonjun and Kai racing to him, trying to push and fight in front of one another.

“What did he say?”

“Are you okay?”

“Are you going to die?”

“Of course not, you idiot!”

The commotion begins to draw the attention of other visitors in the hall and Beomgyu groans, adjusting his mask. “Can the two of you be quiet!” He yells at them in a restrained voice, pushing a finger to his lips and offering apologetic looks to everyone else.

They protest as Beomgyu grabs them by their coats and pulls them around a corner for more privacy, demanding answers. As soon as they’re alone however, they both go quiet and stare at him in anticipation. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but chuckles.

“I am okay. The tests didn’t pick up any major problems.” Beomgyu says and they sigh in relief. He smiles, but the weight of the fumbled recommendation in his pocket makes his stomach twist. “But…”

They both freeze, their eyes flashing between concern and fear. “What?” Kai asks.

Guilt squeezes Beomgyu’s chest. He forces a laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that! He only said my iron is a bit low, so I need to eat better and exercise more.”

“I told you to eat better and exercise!” Yeonjun scolds, fixing his hands in his hips. “Did I not?” Then he turns to Kai, “See! But no, I am the boomer for telling you you need to not game that much!”

“Hyung,” Kai sighs, mirroring Yeonjun’s stance. “I told you. Gaming is relaxing for me!”

They start walking toward the lobby, bickering about Kai’s mistake during dance practice and Yeonjun taking forever in the shower and what they’re going to order for dinner. Beomgyu trails behind them and watches with a faint smile. They’ve all been through a lot. He can’t bring himself to make his matter bigger than anyone else’s.

He’ll work harder to be more thankful.

“Oh!” Yeonjun smacks his hands together, turning to Beomgyu. “I forgot to mention, a hoobae of mine is a student at this hospital. They shift departments, and he’s in the psychiatry ward this week. Let’s go say hi!”

Beomgyu’s stomach plummets. He grabs Yeonjun’s arm in panic. “Hyung. Um. We have work to do. The demo, we still need to work on it, remember?”

Yeonjun considers him for a moment. “We won’t be long, we’re just saying hi.”

“I, uh,” Beomgyu says, mind searching desperately for an excuse. He mentally curses when he cannot think of one. But then a lightbulb goes off. “I have to go to the pharmacy. For iron supplements.”

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. Then he hums. “Okay. We’ll meet up with you in the lobby then.”

He turns and waves over his shoulder. Kai steels his expression and shakes a fist reassuringly before jogging after him.

Beomgyu waits until he can no longer see them, then his shoulders fall and he breathes. He pulls out the referral letter from his pocket where he had stuffed it and unfurls it.

He hadn’t seen his brother in two whole years, and this is how it had to go?

He sighs, stuffs it back in his pocket and looks up at the signage for the way to the lobby. When he reaches the escalator, a body zooming through the floor below makes him stop in his tracks. They maneuver their way through obstacles in their path and race up the escalator. Just before the landing, they trip and face plant into the floor next to him.

Beomgyu gasps and rushes to help. “Hey, are you okay?”

The girl groans as she takes his outstretched hand. He helps her up and she uses her free hand to hold onto her head. “Yeah, sorry.”

Beomgyu helps her to a seat and gets a good look at her to make sure she’s not badly hurt.

At first glance, she seems plain and simple, nothing about her really special at all. She is dressed in wide-legged washed out jeans and a green knitted sweater, one sleeve more stretched than the other and hanging over her hand. Her dark hair is brushed out of her face, yet it is wild from the running and the subsequent fall. And the cause of said fall was quite clearly the old-looking, scuffed up black sneakers hugging her feet.

But when she finally looks at Beomgyu, it is as if time stops. The big eyes of this unassuming girl regard him with nothing but sincere kindness. Her smile reaches from ear to ear, teeth-showing, as if she means it with her whole heart, and Beomgyu’s chest trembles.

“Thank you!” She grins, bowing her head before giving him two thumbs up. “I’m all good. Sorry for getting in your way!”

Beomgyu shakes his head, the edges of his lips picking up. “Ah, no! No that’s okay.”

“No, I shouldn’t have ran!” She sighs as if frustrated with herself, but before Beomgyu can speak, she rambles on. “It’s a hospital, I was being silly. It’s just my friend’s on his break soon and he hasn’t eaten since this morning and I kind of need his help tomorrow because I’m moving – not that I’m only doing this because I need his help! I’m not that kind of person! But he likes my kimchi stew and —”

Beomgyu watches her in amusement, but then his eyes widens and he gasps. “Y-Your!”

She tilts her head in confusion, blood dripping down her nose. Beomgyu points in panic and when she finally realizes, she laughs and wipes it with the back of her hand. “No, no! This is okay, I’m – ” she freezes, checks her watch and jumps to her feet. “I’m late!”

She readjusts her backpack and hurries off again into the hospital, leaving Beomgyu in a state between shock, concern and absolute dumbfoundedness as he stares after her.

“Hyung?” Kai says, just barely snapping Beomgyu out of it. He came from the elevator with Yeonjun and someone else in a white coat who he has never seen before. “What’s wrong?” He arches a brow, following Beomgyu’s line of eyesight.

Beomgyu opens his mouth to speak, but cannot even begin to make sense of what just happened himself. Instead, he bursts out laughing. His friends look at one another, then at him.

“Bro,” Yeonjun raises a brow. “Are you okay? Genuinely?”

The girl, her silliness and the bright aura she had left behind makes Beomgyu’s chest zing, and a score pops into his mind.

“I… think I may have an idea for a demo track.”

prev. | mlist | next

life is rough for (y/n). after dropping out of college and moving away from her family to live life on her own terms, she struggles to keep up with the fast-paced city life in Seoul. she becomes a fan of the kpop idol, choi beomgyu. while his content keeps her motivated to strive for her dreams, she can’t help but wish she had the same luck he has had. but not everything is as it seems.

taglist: @yoonzinoswife @ameliesaysshoo @bgomtori @woncheecks @seodami @thing89 @stormy1408 @boba-beom @binluvsu @lillynval @nothingwithoutgyu @gyuville @tinhq @soobnuuy @031323o (send an ask to be added!)

#smau: from me to you 🎆#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu smau #beomgyu fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader

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lychniis · 4 months

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⚘— ( i ) AND THIS ALL CONSUMING HUNGER // JING YUAN.

i. SYNOPSIS : guides will be guides and men will be men. you've tested against madness and tempered the poison power brings. the general of the luofu is a new assignment and you swallow your fear. ( jing yuan x reader )

ii. WARNING(S) : was previously a long one shot but hey look, a part one to a tentative snapsot series hahahahaha i'm so inconsistent. allusions to workplace exploitation, guideverse au, sentinel jing yuan and guide reader, guys i promise i'll try to explain soon, a bit rushed imo and i hope to fix that in later parts, reader is not in the best place, pre-canon events, this goes a little farther back.

i. A BLACK HOLE. That is what the cloud knight called him as he led you down the long walk — endless, old and hungry; eternally hungry as it devours the moons and the stars and the very matter of space.

A black hole. The words rattle in your skull. It sparks alarm ( more than once ), of morbid thoughts and funerals without a body to grieve for. It makes you feel many, many things, and think of near insanity, and fingers that claw at sheets with a hunger that is never sated, a hunger that rends flesh and bone and grips at you with emaciated hands, begging begging begging.

You shrug it off with little success. Black holes were black holes, men were men and guides were guides. There was no place for fear in your line of work, not when you’ve gazed at madness in the eye and coaxed it away.

The knight looks at you with pity behind his visored helm. “You could always back off.” he offers, after a moment of tense silence. Your nails dig into your skin. Maybe he saw your anxiety. Maybe he smells it. Maybe he’s played this song and danced this dance so often he’s grown used to the jittering and the shuffling.

How many people has he seen off? How many of those faces returned with none of the brokenness? How many returned at all?

“I doubt that would be an appropriate thing to do.” you speak up, hating how raw you sound, how diminutive. It was the right thing to say. That company booklet says so, with its corporate graphics and white toothed smiles plastered on the cover. It screams the gradual rotting of old art and passion. It makes you miss your home world and the murals long painted over with billboard signs.

He shakes his head.

“The General holds no qualms in letting guides go. He encourages it, in fact…” his chipper attitude fades to a subdued sort of expectancy.

But we cannot, he almost says. This, this you know. He sounds reluctant in a way that is mired by guilt and entrenched in suffocating marshland, and his voice trembles with hidden desperation. Your hands twitch. A part of you wishes to indulge in cowardice for once, to run.

( Fool. Fool, you should leave. Walk away while the door is still open.

Fear holds no place here, you tell that voice sternly. It scuffles and spits. It wants to live, to keep living. It is a cornered animal with its teeth borne and its claws laid out. It was you, deep down and you despise it, this selfishness. You wished it erased away, bit by bit, piece by piece till its ashes were sifted to the floor and forgotten. )

He relaxes a bit when you don’t budge, satisfied with this seeming bravery, or wild idiocy. He pauses by the gates and hands you an ID card. There is a quiet beat; it’s like the world is dissolving, into static and incomprehension, like you were sinking too deep into something you’d rather stay away from. Your throat is parched. You wonder if you could ask for a drink of water before taking up your duties.

The cloud knight’s name was Yutie. He tells you he’s been the general’s guard for years uncountable. You don’t try to sum it up in your mind. To the Xianzhou natives, a decade was a passing moment. To you, it felt like eternity upon eternities.

“It’s never been this bad,” he explains, tapping at the keypad. The doors let out a mechanical whirr whirr whirr, like they were going to fall apart any second. He swears, slamming his fist on the device ( you were ashamed to admit you flinched — he looks a tad bit apologetic, at least ). They slide open easier this time. “The General usually keeps his health in check. The most he needs are top-ups to prevent any unnecessary accidents…”

Accidents.

Dead guides. Guides sucked dry, dry of everything, from their soul to their very essence to their life itself. Guides like you. Guides lulled in, offered money, offered a job, guides like you perhaps, at the cusp of desperation. What are you doing here, why did you agree to this —

“What changed?” you ask, drumming staccato against the surface of the card.

Yutie dips his head down. You see another flash of his gaze beneath his helmet and the faintest wisps of dark hair. “There was an expedition.” his tone softens. He sees demons beyond the world in front of him, the kind you see in your nightmares. “It was long, and painful…the General returned victorious, but he expended too much and now…”

Yutie swallows. You could practically feel the nervous energy buzzing off of him.

“...and now he’s like…this.” you finish helpfully.

“And now he’s like this.” he nods. “Will you help him?”

You purse your lips, and that twisting ache in your chest deepens into a gaping pit. A black hole. The word itself scares you. To you, it feels like something deep, empty, vast. It feels like sinking underwater, down trenches with no end. It feels stifling and it shrinks you down to something small and swallowable.

Men were men, guides were guides and fear was a passing glance. You shut your eyes and mutter it over and over. “I’ll try. I don’t know if I can…but I will try." It's a sincere enough effort, every trembling syllable hanging heavy like lead, like titanium. “I will try.” you repeat. You fool yourself into it. You repeat it, over and over. You will try, you will try, you will try.

He looks down. You feel the nervousness break away and fragment into a somber hint, and a hopeful one. You wonder what kind of man Jing Yuan may be for his guard to care about him so.

You hope he is kind.

Aeons, you hope he is kind.

ii. YOU FEEL IT BEFORE you see it, the cloying smokiness, the stench of ozone, the buzz against your skin. It was lightning in a bottle set loose, the beginnings of a storm, a hurricane that could rattle the roofs of houses and blow away trees from their roots. It was danger, and your throat burns against it.

Help him, that part of you screams as instinct overtakes fear. You don’t have to look at him to know the extent of his corruption — not with how cold his hand was when you took it. Not with how you tremble beneath that shuddering weight and push past the initial barrier. It slips and pushes you back, once, twice, thrice. You wheedle your way in, grabbing at whatever you could find.

What you find is emptiness.

You panic. You feel tugged and frayed at the corners. You feel like you’re unraveling —

— you keep going, your fingers pressed against his palm as your essence filters through.

You don’t want to look at the pale faced illness that would have settled over him or the fragility his bones move with. That was always the hardest part, crying for the ones you could never save, letting their faces creep into your mind at night. You do not want to give him a face. You do not want him to haunt you, if this twists into something unwantable.

( You could die too. The thought springs forth like a scathing mockery. It smiles — if thoughts could smile — and it bears a sharp toothed edge to it. You stop thinking immediately, no no no, no more of that. )

He devours it, then demands more, more, more. You don’t have more. You doubt you have more, and you, a fool and bleeding heart in its pathetic entirety — you let him take.

Reality begins slipping into a jumbled mess of shapes and words. You tamp down the deluge. Your head feels light, and you feel heavy. For a moment, you imagine the stars in front of you, and hurtling through space watching constellations being rendered down and broken apart.

A hand fixes round your wrist. The grasp is clumsy, weak yet warm against your skin ( and it’s gentle and it’s kind. You want to tear it off of you. You want to cry and cling to it ). The line is severed and you double over, your breaths strained, haggard like someone untangled that painful web growing in your chest. You think you taste iron in your mouth.

“Enough.” There is a finality in the way he speaks and you obey, stunned and dissonant. When you look up, the General is staring back, the gold in his eyes, hazy, sickly though tugged free of the madness. He hasn’t recovered, not fully — he was still a smeared painting in that sense with none of that fine refining or rendering. A face still legible, still knowable but lost in its definition and depth.

Oh…oh, you wonder how he dares to still be so beautiful.

Harsh aureate softens to mellow honey. His fingers brush against your palm, the touch featherlight, the brush of wings against skin. “You have done enough.” he says, softly, gently. “Go, get some rest.”

The manual sinks at the back of your eyes, all clinical white smiles and lifeless art. Their instructions were drilled in like second instinct, like some sick mantra. “I haven’t — ” you barely let the words out. You were tired. You want to sleep.

“Go.” he repeats ( stop being so insistent, you nearly snap. Your voice crackles and crumbles — thankfully ). “We can talk later.”

There were parts of you that were tugged at with phantom hands, parts you never wished to be torn at. For a moment, you stand, your mind nothing but hazy static. He looks apologetic. The situation sinks in, the hunger, a black hole. That visceral feeling in your gut, the surreality, the terror.

You had almost died.

Bitten lips part. A choked cry tumbles out. It’s numb emptiness. It’s everything at once.

You almost died.

It settles in thick and you feel parts of you fall away, left behind in that room. You hear attendants call out in worry as they fuss over the man. You feel Yutie’s hand on your back. You look back and see the chasmous guilt in Jing Yuan. An attendant says something. He smiles, nods, pulling on an air so free of distress — you wish you were a good liar like him. Maybe you could lie to yourself and think of a you and a life that didn’t feel so empty.

The glimpse is gone. You see walls now. His voice fades away as the distance grows.

“Thank you.” says Yutie. There is a silent awe in the way he speaks to you, like you were some godling sent from the heavens itself. You do not understand that — you were only doing your job. But you also see why too. He was kind. He was kind in a way you had least expected and he was tender, so painfully tender. General Jing Yuan is the Luofu’s beloved in that sense and to care for a man like him was no surprise.

( It’s loyalty, the type of loyalty so deeply ingrained into their bones and their instincts — an iron that refuses to rust. It is impressive, you mindfully nod at this, just a little touched at the sight. At least someone was loved. It may not be you, but it was still someone, and it lets you see that the universe, no matter the horrors it holds beneath it;s shroud, was still capable of the kinder, tender things. )

Despite that, the sinking feeling remains. Your contract wasn’t finished with. You had a long way to go. That iciness returns. It’s constricting around your neck. It does not leave. Death had left its mark on you, a permanent reminder of your fragility.

You know what it was, your old friend, a bedmate, a shadow hovering over your shoulders and taking and tearing and grinning as it sets fire to what sanity you hold close. It holds the ashes. It scatters them and laughs.

You do not utter its name. Demons had a nasty habit of showing their faces when called.

iii. THE NEXT DAY, you don a coat, lock your room door and head back to Jing Yuan’s estate from Petrichor Inn. The Luofu’s nightlife has bled away to silence and the world feels asleep around you. You try not to make a sound lest you disturb it; it feels like something you had little right to tread upon this stillness with heavy footfalls.

Yesterday repeats itself. You meet Yutie at the entrance. He hands you your ID. He leads you to Jing Yuan. He stays behind at the doorway and gives you an encouraging nod. You curl your fingers and take a step in, incense stimulating the senses — it eases you a bit. It smells nice. It smells familiar ( jasmine and hibiscus and sandalwood ).

He’s awake. You wonder if he’s slept at all ( he’s not, with the way his shoulders slope ). Your muscles itch. The air is still saturated with that uncomfortable buzz. It’s less staggering, less like the upended chaos that stormed through placidity and more like a subtle shift, the waves slowly creeping up with the onset of the coming tide.

Breathe.

He’s smiling at you. That is good. It is better than latent annoyance. It is better than that voracity.

“Good morning.” You greet. You gather yourself and your lips tug at the corners. It was a professional, distant, but it;s a smile of your own.

“Good morning.” He hums. “Have you eaten?”

A strange thing to ask right off the bat, but the small talk between the awkward silence is a buffer you welcome. Anything to lay in the incoming conversation as gently as possible ( you brace yourself. You tell yourself to be brave, be brave, be brave ). “Not yet.” you admit. “I’d like to see this through first.”

“Your payment?” Jing Yuan wasn’t being rude with the context at hand. You still stiffen. It’s instinctive, and you despise how it makes your hands cold like fractured ice and stale snow.

“Your guiding.” You clarify, stilling the tremble. “You're…in need of some more help if you wish to make a quicker recovery. I could help schedule some appointments during my stay here.”

He considers you with a cool look. You feel like a butterfly gutted through and pinned up to be ogled at. “You hardly seem eager to take that stand yourself.” he notes with a wry tilt to his head.

You’d have argued back at his response, but his shrewdness claws away the words and leaves you gaping at his bedside. Jing Yuan peers down at his sheets, then shuts his eyes. There is an impatient twitch to his fingers. You wonder if he wants to strangle someone ( or maybe it’s you. Maybe you feel stripped away raw and your only instinct was to scream ).

Your chest rises and falls. “If there is any issue you have with me, I could put a word in and call another guide.” An innocent suggestion, uttered too quickly. You want to wince.

“No, no, it’s not you.” He’s quick to shut it down. There is a mixed amusement there, tugging at his lips. It’s like he knows something you don’t, or sees something you can’t. It’s frustrating. “Heavens, it's not you at all. Your performance was hardly what I’d call subpar…” you wait for the ‘but’.

“...but I am sure you are aware that I'll suck you dry, yes?” Yes you were, and even you were selfishly terrified of death ( and you feel stupid. So stupid ). Jing Yuan could smell fear, it was a blatant point to him, something you chide yourself for ( you should have hidden it away better ) — and his offer for freedom, ah it was tempting. You could walk away now and wash your hands of it. You could leave this behind and think little of it.

…at least until your boss brings about the questions. The chiding. The reminders, your training. It makes you feel sick.

( There is something else too.

Perhaps a naive voice, a young child who once told someone they wanted to help people. A child from a world before the strain, the strife, the hours overtime — where greed was never quite a concept beyond wanting more chocolate after dinner. )

“I’m not sure if I'm in the position to refuse.” you admit. “I’m under contract. Your recovery is of utmost importance and I cannot afford any violations.” It’s the tamest way you could lay out your reasoning. You don’t want to get into the messier details, where the ink bleeds and splatters through the pages. Those are the parts most try hiding.

He softens up. There’s less of a regimented edge to him. You relax your shoulders, let your nerves soothe. “So you’ll stay.” he says this with a heavy sort of acceptance. You catch a taste of melancholy ( bitter, like dark chocolate ). “In that case, you may proceed.”

“Alright.” you patter closer and pull up a chair next to him. Jing Yuan watches you; he always watches you and your jittering returns as the seconds tick by. The clock feels a little too loud. The lights feel a little too bright. He holds out his arm. You smooth your fingers over his skin, feel the tautness of muscle and the faint brittleness of bones underneath.

( Alive. )

Your thumb stops above his pulse. It’s beating fast — a little too fast. “You’re nervous.” you whisper.

“Am I?” he smiles. His pulse slows as he breathes. Shrewd man.

“You’re still nervous.” you point out. “You’re just good at hiding it.” He chuckles. The sun seems to reflect in his eyes. It would be easy to consider him something else, something a little less human. But you feel his warmth in your hands. You feel his pulse and you try smiling. It’s gentle, as gentle as you could muster forth. “It’s alright. You can try talking about things. They’re good distractions.”

Jing Yuan only seems more amused. “You’re acting like I'm a petulant child. In my experience, guiding is far more pleasant than say, needles poking at flesh.” ( He turns his hand over and the feel of his pulse slips away. His fingertips are calloused. There are no scars. The Xianzhou natives never live with those. )

You often wonder what it’s like to receive it, guiding. Then you banish those thoughts. They are not yours, never yours to mull over beneath the eyes of the night.

His eyes slip shut. You fall into the void, feel the devouring beneath the surface with its too tight grasp and the hunger it holds. Your chest stirs. You guide him.

iv. HIS MONOLOGUE :

There is touching. More touching than what he’s used to. And it’s not enough, never enough. It’s fleeting, featherlight. He’d call it that sensation — in how a plum blossom would fall, would brush against his cheek. In how the rain patters against his hair.

He watches you. It’s interesting, he reasons, between the whitewashed walls of his room and the creaking of his bed. Your eyes barely meet his. Your hands, they flutter over his arm, over his pulse. It’s surgical, precise, he’s tugged apart and opened and he tries to think of the things you might see as you slip inside.

Gentle. You’re gentle. Jing Yuan feels you hold his soul. It’s warm. The monster stills. Some of that creeping emptiness disappears. There was a dissonance there, once upon a time. It was devastation and it was a weight. Jing Yuan despised it, despised its cries, despised how it took more than it should.

He feels light.

When you pull away, he feels greedy. He almost asks you to come back ( to stay, maybe a little longer, maybe forever ).

You’re tired. There is a newer burden, a newer nervousness dragging you down. Jing Yuan watches you leave. A bitterness floods his tongue, edged with iron.

( Stay. )

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

"aine it's been ages, are you on hiatus?" "nah i'm just lazy."

so my ideas and concepts for this au basically peaked, spilled over and i settled on the horrifying thought that this cannot be a single oneshot anymore.

so uh, hey here's a snapshot series. there's no actual plot to it, thank god ( you ;long fic writers...you awe and scare me ) but i plan on writing a few tied in oneshots here and there when i feel like to expand on it. consider this in introductory post??? a meet cute.

now to clear the air, what is guideverse? okay so it's kind of an au where there are sentinels, beings with supernatural power juice and guides who make sure the sentinels don't get too drunk on the supernatural power juice and do an oopsie.

that's the most barebones way of explaining it, but there are a few writers who have explained it better i think XD. in short, guides calm sentinels down and stop them from corrupting. in this case, the reader tends to the mara encroaching on jing. yes yes.

in the famous words of shaoji, don't worry "this story will be heartwarming and wholesome :))))))." trust me bro. my sources are so valid.

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill this form up!

taglist — @dustofthedailylife @meimeimeirin @silentmoths @crystalflygeo @ofoceansandtombsanew @ollieink @chiyoso @hleb-chan-sky @thesparklingwriter @localplaguenurse @khxii-i @laughterofthetombs @euniveve @meritamiau @achy-boo @dumbitchpdf @timeofsilversstuff @pearlsxandxpeonies @francisnyx @cynicalmusings @iridescene

AINE | 2024. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

#&&. my writing !!#jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #jing yuan x y/n #my god guys this took way too long to finish lol #help help XD #i'm done though thank god #guideverse #guideverse x reader

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igotanidea · 6 months

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Christmas market : TASM! Peter x reader

Christmas bingo day 3 : christmas market

***

Christmas market in new York was, hands down, one of the best in the world. At least that was what Peter kept on telling his girlfriend, while nearly dragging her to it. Y/n was not the greatest fan of spending time in the crowd of people, due to her shyness and a bit of social anxiety, but had to relent when he gave her that pretty begging smile. How could she possibly say no to the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman after all.

Besides, after spending an hour circling around the stalls and looking at all those Christmas decoration, she slowly started to change her mind and getting into the Christmas spirit. All to Peter's amusement, especially when she absentmindedly started humming a Christmas song coming from the speakers.

"What?" She chuckled biting on her chocolate covered strawberry "you wanted me to have fun, wish granted."

"You're so out of tune!" he grinned fixing her scarf making sure she was not cold and the simplicity and care coming from this gesture made her eyes sparkle at him. But there was no way she was going to let him win this one.

"oh, I'm out of tune now? And who are you to judge me, bugboy? Vivaldi?"

"nah, I'm just the boyfriend, who heard you singing under the shower enough times to actually get an opinion".

"hey! What happened to friendly neighbourhood spi-?"

Before she could finish the sentence he leaned forward and kissed her making it impossible to reveal his secret identity. And, knowing how sensitive Peter was with keeping it on the DL, she might have done this on purpose.

"you'll be the death of me y/n" he pulled back after a while but still keeping her in his protective embrace. It was like the world around them stopped existing for a while as they both got lost in each other's eyes.

"Don't worry, not gonna happen. You got enough villains coming at you as it is. However, while we're on the subject of risking lifes- how about we take a ride on the wheel? Id love to see the city panorama from up there" she looked up at the night sky illuminated by the stars.

"actually I got a better idea..."

***

A few minutes later they were swinging in the air on Peter's spiderweb. Y/n closed her eyes, grabbing onto him with one hand, clutching her cap with the other, barely holding back from screaming. She should have been used to this form of transportation by this time but it always made her want to throw up. Especially since he never gave her a warning, just scooping her up in his arms and taking off like a freaking fly and not a spider.

"dont worry y/n. Not letting you fall." Peter said his voice distorted by the mask. "besides, you said you wanted to see the city panorama, didn't you?" He laughed as they landed keeping hands on her waist preventing her from getting dizzy and falling down.

"And you took that as a hint to show off." She scoffed struggling to find the balance even despite his firm grip. "I wanted to have some Christmas atmosphere but it didn't mean swinging by the rooftops and - oh!"

She stopped abruptly when Peter grabbed her chin softly and turned her head to the side of the Christmas market below them.

Multicoloured lights everywhere, crowd of people walking in many different directions, Christmas music that could be heard even up high, ice rink, wheel and the huge christmas tree sparkling in the dark really did bring up a Christmas atmosphere. And Peter knew she liked the view from here much more than she would appreciate it from the carousel.

"show off..." She muttered again raising on her tiptoes and pecking his cheek causing him to grin like a teenager in love.

"hey did you get me that -?"

"i did. You couldn't be more obvious"

Of course he had an hidden agenda, when he made her walk past the same gift stall four times in fifteen minutes talking about the gift choosing and how much easier it would be to actually be told what the bestowed person wanted. So yes, it was pretty easy to take the hint.

"can I get my present now then?" Peter asked with eyes glistening with excitement

"here" she leaned forward and kissed him again.

"not that I'm complaining but--"

"not before Christmas eve"

"but y/n!!"

"with great power comes great responsibility." She laughed

"what does that have to do with -?"

"I hold power over your heart so I'm responsible for the even distribution of the gifts. Kiss for now, package for later."

#spider man x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter fluff #spiderman fluff #christmas bingo

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kiryoutann · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 ❀•°✮ [KYLIAN MBAPPÉ X FEM! READER]

MINORS do NOT interact. Warning(s): ex-fling, past friends-with-benefits relationship, alcohol, reader being a F1 driver.

Genre: romance, comedy.

Word count: 2,1k.

Blurb:

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. But, how can you when you accidentally marry your ex-fling—the star footballer, Kylian Mbappé—as a madness in your drunken stupor?

If you'd just trusted your gut feeling that going to Las Vegas was a bad idea rather than brushing it off as just one of many crazy thoughts going through your head, this would not have happened. Hell, you should have known better that being in the same place and attending the same party as an ex-fling is not going to do you any good despite all your efforts to avoid meeting him.

You squint in the sunshine that enters through the window. Morning has come and you hope to be able to reduce at least a little from the brightness of the giant orb in the sky to continue your sleep.

Your hand brushed the material of your dress from last night, relief washing over you knowing you didn't wake up naked after yet another drunken night's blunders.

Just when you were about to close your eyes again, your ears caught a soft snoring. Your eyelids shot open, your brows furrowed as you wondered if you really heard them or were just hallucinating from the lingering alcohol in your system. You got out of bed, focused your ears on the sound, and crawled to the end of the bed in that direction.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The man who was sleeping on the floor wearing nothing but his boxers startled and got up as soon as your yell reverberated throughout the room.

Finding yourself in your party dress laid out in bed is one thing; finding your ex-fling on the hotel room floor is quite another. The question on your face is so clear, not much different from Kylian who looks at you in confusion while he tries to gather consciousness as quickly as possible.

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him seriously. “Kylian,” you called out to him. "why are you in my room?"

Now that you mentioned it, he swept his gaze across the room. Your eyebrows rose one in curiosity as the corners of his lips curved up into a mocking smile rather than answering you.

"Your room?" Kylian chuckled lightly. “I never thought you had a PSG jacket. What happened to Mercedes?”

You follow his eyes and find a dark blue jacket draped over the arm of the sofa.

"Why am I in your room?" You corrected, can't help but almost wince from embarrassment.

As he sat down on the bed, Kylian shrugged casually, as if this were an everyday occurrence for him. Or perhaps it is.

“Kylian, I’m being serious.”

A groan came out of him. “How should I know? Maybe you got lost and knocked on my door and I was kind enough to open it for you." He gives you a half-hearted answer and then covers his face with a pillow in an attempt to get you to stop asking him questions so he can get some more rest.

Typical Kylian, always underestimating things. But you also get absolutely no hint that anything happened between you two except from the fact that he was only wearing boxers.

Well, he always sleeps like that anyway, you thought to yourself.

Feeling your gaze through his pillow, he peeked out to say: “Still here? Might as well cuddle with me, chère.”

It reminds you why meeting Kylian is the worst thing that could happen to you.

That should be good enough for you and him to be in the same room without anything seeming to be going on between you. But, anything can't be good enough when it comes to him—the same ex-fling you left the moment you know your last few sex didn't just feel like mere lust. Now that you think about it, you beg every God who exists not to give him the idea to bring it up.

Your lips had parted to respond to his smart remark when something started to ring. You and Kylian both turned to the phone on the nightstand, your hand took it to answer it after seeing the caller ID.

A beat before you answer in a cautious voice, "Hello?"

“Hey, uhm.. did you get my messages?”

“I guess? Sorry, Lewis, I just woke up and haven't checked yet—”

Your teammate interrupts you with a laugh. "A bad hangover?" he asked.

"No, no, not a hangover." You looked at Kylian who turned to look at you before answering, "Just confusion."

"Alright, well, I just wanted to let you know that.."

Lewis' voice mixes in as background noise as you sweep your gaze back across the room. From the PSG jacket Kylian mentioned earlier to the sunshine pouring all over the hotel's elegant marble flooring. Feeling an itch on your left ring finger, you intend to rub your thumb on the surrounding skin only to find cold touching it. You furrow your brows, landing your gaze on something shining around your finger.

A.. ring?

One that is definitely not to your taste. One that seems to be chosen in a hurry or chosen in a drunken state.

Did you steal someone's jewellery last night?

Obviously, you don't remember putting them on before walking into Lewis's party last night. Hell, you don't even like wearing jewelry around your fingers except for that one night where you punched someone in the face for touching your butt—which was a few years ago, which was the exact reason your manager wouldn't let you wear one anymore.

Kylian interrupts your train of thinking by removing something from his finger. You missed his confused look because you were too focused on what looked like a ring that seemed almost like yours, minus the large diamond in the middle.

Did you two somehow become partners in crime and rob a married couple last night?

No, that's too absurd, right? you think.

It's too absurd because if that was really the case your phone should have been bombarded with calls from your manager rather than Lewis. Rather than waking up in Kylian's hotel room—which is far too cozy to serve as a resting place for robbers—you'll instead be at the police station. Lewis's voice calling you fades into background as you scurry around looking for clues.

You're not even close to a nasty hangover yet, you're forgetting everything that happened last night.

The sound of you opening the nightstand drawer then rummaging through the dressers in the corner of the room made Kylian looked up from the ring in his hand. He follows your fast-moving figure, like a cop trying to find evidence of a crime.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

You don't answer. Your phone sits on the bed without ending the phone conversation with Lewis—the poor guy ends up hanging up before calling you again, probably thinking you've overslept his long babbling. However, the only thing that is currently occupying you is your confusion and your desire to know what really happened last night.

And why did you and Kylian wake up with wedding bands on.

Rather than relief, your heart dropped into your stomach as the answer presented itself before you.

Lying on the table near the shoe rack is a piece of paper with Kylian's and your full names written on it. You have a hunch you're not going to like what you read next but, continue by sweeping your gaze to the top of the document. Above it, the words 'Certificate of Marriage' were written in a bigger and more beautiful font.

The heart that fell into the stomach immediately stopped beating. You believe your life left you right then and there.

"Oh my God." Was the only thing you could say.

You hear Kylian scrambling down the bed. "What?" he asked, coming toward you, still not keeping his eyes on the document you were holding.

“We're..” You turned to him, staring with jaw hanging wide in shock. "We're married."

The frown between his brows deepened as Kylian opened his mouth, "We're what?" He was about to laugh thinking it was a joke, but his lips drooped after noticing you were actually serious.

The document in your palm caught Kylian's attention, and he picked it up to check it for himself. The writing on the paper is still the same; his name, your name, 'Certificate of Marriage' in large font, as well as some signatures and a stamp at the bottom that indicates this is legal and recognized by the state.

Out of all the things you could do when you're drunk drunk, you two choose to marry each other. Now, the thought of becoming a partner in crime and robbing a married couple doesn't sound so bad at all.

Kylian was as still as a statue. He inhaled deeply before turning to face you.

"Is this real?" he asked.

“It's..”

Unsure of what you know, you pick up your phone again and open Safari. Your fingers type fast before clicking on an article that nearly perfectly describes your situation. Kylian watched your eyes go up and down reading the writing on the screen.

“It says they had a client from the UK who got married in Las Vegas, thought it was a “souvenir” and found out it was actually a legal marriage, even outside of the US. She ended up having to re-marry her UK spouse after annulling the Vegas marriage." To double check, you open a new article, read it and then confirm that it's really legit.

Kylian did nothing but stand up with his shoulders slagging. He gave the marriage certificate in his hand one more glance before asking, "What do you want to do?"

“What do I want to do? I want an annulment of course! Don't you?”

"Do you want to do it now?" he asked.

Before you could give your answer to him, your phone rang again. You picked up without reading the caller ID, thinking it was Lewis checking up on you.

“Lewis, sorry. Something—“

“Lewis?”

Instead of Lewis's voice, you grimaced at your manager's long ramblings. It was so loud, you're sure Kylian heard it from his expression which is not much different from yours. You pull your phone away from your ears ringing from Mia's high pitched voice telling you that you have a busy schedule today so you should move your ass out of bed and get going.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You sigh. "Yes, yes, I heard. Briefing at ten. You want me to get there before nine.” You said, hoping it was exactly what she said to you.

"You better not be late!"

You chose to ignore the hint of threat in her tone and hung up. When you went back to look at Kylian, he was still facing you and this time, his top lip was raised in a mocking smile. He already knows what you're going to say.

"Can the annulment wait?" you ask.

"Of course." He sounds more like happy than disappointed, which pisses you off. "Enjoy your time as my wife then."

Always with the unnecessary comment. You roll your eyes from it, rushing to collect yourbelongings before stuffing them into your small purse. Kylian had already thrown himself back into bed, wanting to enjoy his spare time with another sleep. You're envious of how he can be this calm about the situation.

Maybe this isn't his first Las Vegas marriage. You almost laugh from that.

After making sure nothing was left behind (because God knows you would hate to knock on his door and say you left something), you turned to him.

"We’ll talk about this later. Just.. stay in touch.”

Kylian acknowledged you with a brief hum. "You sure you won't ghost me again?"

Fuck. What's the deal with him constantly nudging a topic you're trying to avoid? Your lips closed in a thin line, trying not to overreact to another of his smart comments.

"We'll talk via Instagram."

The instant it left your lips, Kylian immediately opened his eyes wide, staring at you as if you were a crazy woman who had just appeared before him. A satisfied smile crawls onto your face thinking you're finally going to have the last word.

Wrong.

“Fine by me.”

Kylian took his ring from the nightstand, held it up high for you to see before putting on a smirk that brought out his dimples.

"Now you have a lucky charm, make sure you win the race." His eyebrows shot up towards your ring finger.

You left the room trying hard to get the damn ring off your finger. As Kylian's laughter reverberates throughout the room, your ears do their best to pretend to be deaf. You want to slam the door, but, unlucky for you, hotel doors always close very, very gently.

You shouldn't have went to Las Vegas.

Please do not associate this work with the real lives of the people in this story.

#kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #mbappe x reader #mbappe x you #kylian mbappe imagines #mbappe imagine #mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fic #kylian mbappe fics #mbappe fic #mbappe fics #football fanfic #kylian mbappe fluff #football imagine

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sugusatosluut · 4 months

Text

“Just another casualty”

Suguru Geto x Fem!reader smut

When you started jujutsu high with Satoru and Suguru, you had a blast getting to know them. Catching the train after school, skipping Yaga’s class on Wednesdays, grabbing lunch together during your free hour.. it used to be so much fun until you started to get assigned missions. One mission really got to Suguru though. Protecting the star plasma vessel for Tengen. Even though you tried your best to console Suguru, you couldn’t begin to imagine how the trauma was affecting him, he ultimately uttered his last hurtful words to you which ended your relationship with him.

Today, you and Satoru’s students were lured to see Suguru, who wanted Yuuta Okkotsu all to himself to use against non-sorcerers and of course, take out the strongest himself, Satoru Gojo. On the way to find Yuuta’s student ID, you and Satoru engaged in a private conversation as you watched the students look around.

“It wasn’t on you to make him stay. It was my fault. I should have pushed harder. Tried harder. Suguru was my best friend and I let him down.” Satoru sighed standing next to you.

“It’s not your fault either. Sometimes people are experts at hiding their pain until they think they are utterly alone. Suguru was one of those people. I’m sure Yuki didn’t intend serious malice with what she said to Suguru.. but words have meaning to people who aren’t usually in the right headspace after a lot of trauma. At the end of the day none of us knew he was going to wipe out his entire village. Hurt people, hurt people Satoru.” You spoke softly.

“I know.. I know the two of us could only wish that we were there or could change how things played out, but there’s no use of us beating ourselves up about it. I can only tell you I’m here for you in the way that I should have been from the start. The way we wished we could have been for Suguru.” He gave you a smile while taking your hand in his.

“Thanks Satoru.” You smiled.

“Hey, weird question but were those rumors ever true? The ones about you and Suguru?” He chuckled.

“Oh- y-yeah. They were. I’m a little embarassed but we were very horny teenagers. We may have teased and taunted eachother but underneath all that aggravating banter was quite a lot of sexual tension. That’s why we seemed like good friends after a while.”

“Hmm.. okay. I only bring it up because one time Suguru briefly brought up something called the “jackhammer”..”

“Oh-god Satoru stop right there.” You chuckled at him.

“I’m just curious.” He chuckled back at you.

You decided to whisper to him what it was, Satoru’s face turning a deep red at the description of you and suguru’s ‘jackhammer’ term.

You both were laughing quietly to yourselves as you both heard the haunting voice of Suguru.

“Keeping secrets are we? I thought I knew you better than that y/n.” Suguru smiled

You froze, the last moments you spent together suddenly replaying through your head.

5 years ago

“Suguru-I can’t explain to you how bad this sounds right now. You killed your whole village? Stay where you are I’m coming to you.” You said panicked.

You heard from Yaga, Shoko and Satoru about what he’d done. They knew he’d pick up for you and only want to see you, so they told you the information knowing you’d venture out to see him. Little did you know this would be your last time seeing your boyfriend.

You and Geto had something you’d always dreamed of, you were always very clear and and honest with eachother, but Suguru’s actions really led you into a full fledged panic. You couldn’t believe he’d done something like this. You waited until he opened the door for you, his head tired and barely poking out the crack of the door. His face perked up a bit when he realized it was you. He looked exhausted. The Suguru Geto you knew was always calm, this Suguru that stood before you was something different.

He wasted no time, his kisses flooding your body as he pulled your body close to his warm one, his strong arms holding you flat and tight against his chest. You didn’t dare talk, this was his time right now, he was emotional, he needed comfort and if this was how he wanted to do it, so be it. You would do anything to see him smile or be as happy as he once was again.

Suguru’s long big fingers traced shapes on your back as he placed you on top of him, your bodies on the couch together as he rutted his hips into yours, grinding in a way that had you fully entranced. You couldn’t explain it but his golden brown eyes were so hypnotic and enchanting, all he had to do was ask and you’d be on your knees doing whatever he asked of you. He opened your blouse, his eyes grazing over your facial features before pulling the cup of your laced bra down and attaching his lips to your sensitive nipple. Your moans filled the air, high pitched sounds sounding like music to Suguru’s ears. You couldn’t help but close your eyes as he had one hand on your hip holding you down as he created friction, and the other was gripping your other breast. Suguru was ecstatic, smiling as he sucked harder and groaned with slightly parted lips at how nasty you let him be with you. He eventually had enough of this prolonged clothed friction and stopped himself. You both got up, taking all of your clothes off back to back. You were only in the lace panties as you turned around to face Suguru. Your eyes were hopeful as he smiled at you. The kind of grin he does when he’s content with what’s happening. The closed eyes, the small curve upwards of his lips that don’t dare to show teeth. His long eyelashes made it so hard to resist. He turned back towards the fireplace, then back at you. He gently motioned you back to the couch, your body taking a position in which Suguru now had you sitting, but folded. Your legs sat on his shoulders as his lips placed kisses on your pussy.

He looked up at you with a smirk as he licked a strip up your puffy clit as a small test run. Your small mewls escaping your lips made him grin with satisfaction. He couldn’t wait any longer, slurping and lapping at your hole. He shoved two of his fingers down your throat and the sound of you gagging just released something within him. He stood up, his six foot three inch figure standing over you.

“C’mere.. Get on your knees.” He smirked

You obeyed, because giving Suguru any type of satisfaction was always on your mind. He was taking in the view as he slid his throbbing angry pink tip all over your lips.

“Good girl y/n. So slutty and beautiful just for me.”

You parted your lips slightly.

“Relax your throat, take all of me.”

He slid his cock down your throat at a slow pace, then gripped your head tightly as he fucked your face. The small gagging sounds only making him become more rough as he pulled your head back and forth. He was getting close, you could tell.

“Up bunny.”

He took his placed on the couch, lying on his back. You got on top of him and his cock slid up and down your slit. This was perfect, you were perfect. Suguru didn’t want this to end, but it was far too much for him to ask you to run away with him.

You sunk down on his cock, yelping.

“Y/n, did I hurt you?”

“No, Suguru just keep going I can do it.” You closed your eyes.

“Ride me my little bunny.”

You both were panting, Suguru couldn’t take it anymore as he held your waist tightly. He thrusted up into you and the feeling in your stomach intensified.

“I’m-“

“Me too.” He said. His trusts becoming sloppier and sloppier. Finally, it felt like fireworks as both of you came. Suguru held you tightly before letting you pick your upper body up, still allowing his cock to stay inside you. You caressed his face and he pulled you in for what would ultimately be your final kiss.

He looked ashamed.

“Suguru, what’s on your mind?” You asked. You got up, letting his cock slide out of you. You grabbed a wrobe that he kept for you on the coat hangar.

“Y/n. You’re a non sorcerer.” He sighed.

“Okay.. everybody knows that. What’s your point?” You chuckled. It was a nervous one. You could tell he was serious.

“We can’t do this anymore. We can not keep pretending this will work. In your head, you think we’re perfect— that I can protect you around every bumpy road. You’re a non sorcerer. You rely on special grade weapons and you’ll only get in the way. You’re just another casualty y/n. That’s all you are to me now.”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces, but if this is what Suguru wanted, you’d let him have this last wish.

“okay.. you win.” You smiled weakly at him, tears threatening to fall from your waterline. It really broke his heart I say these awful things to you.

You put your clothes back on before straightening your emotions out. This is the part where you’d walk away for good.

#getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x you

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hanasnx · 2 years

Note

hi!! do you have any thoughts on ruling the galaxy with anakin?? padme is way better than bc i would have joined him in a nanosecond

i mean look at HIM

bro i would’ve FOLDEDDDDDDDDDDD

immediately. no question i

if that makes me the worst human alive, fine, cos i’ll be the worst human alive sitting on a throne next to the loml alright anything for true love 🤷‍♀️

the first picture you sent me always gets me 🫠 like something about that messy hair and big grin that makes me think we just fucked. THOSE FUCKING SHOULDERS i’d ride them if i could i wanna be tall.

the second one??? i wanna lick up that treasure trail like the nuns did to him in virgin territory. i’d live down there if he’d let me

ANYWAYS u asked me for my thoughts so i’ll spill em cos i really do just wanna be his pillow princess of the galaxy

you meet his eyes, those blue eyes you’ve cherished so much, and a strong wind blows through you, inspiring you to take the leap, knowing if you didn’t, there would be irreversible consequences. “okay.”

he expected you to have.. a little doubt, maybe even a few doubts. “what?”

“okay, let’s go. whatever we have to do, do it now. i don’t want to stay here a minute longer.”

☥ i do believe that by making that decision, you saved him from a world of pain and from wearing the darth vader suit (as much as i love the suit, and think it’s hot when he wears it, for this we’ll talk about suitless vader)

☥ ruling the galaxy is not what you expected, but you know it could’ve been a lot worse. this was the way you felt would be best, in order to keep your lover intact after the events that transpired at the jedi temple.

☥ palpatine you didn’t expect either, and he’s not pleased with your presence. having used your and anakin’s love to manipulate anakin, he’s unhappy that you were not caught in the crossfire, and he had no use for you. now you exist as vader’s “lapdog” and he has yet to find where you can fit into his grand plan to work the best in his favor.

☥ i do think you’d have a hand in asking anakin about palpatine, to the point where he’d question him as well. i feel like one the reasons palpatines got such a hold over anakin is the fact that anakin’s alone, and has no one else. while you’re with him, i feel like it’s only natural your doubts would rub off on anakin, and he’d begin to question palpatine’s role in his own life.

☥ okay but enough about that pos emperor, i wanna get to the good stuff.

☥ now that there’s no jedi order, vader would feel no need to hide what you have. he’s the biggest and baddest in the galaxy, who’s gonna tell him no?

☥ i think he likes it when you tell him no

☥ something about trying to refuse lord vader that gets me 🥵🥵 “so, my wife refuses me? odd.”

☥ um you didn’t ask for spicy parts but i’m physically incapable of not including spicy parts

☥ like you get to wake up in the morning with the love of your life, who does almost nothing but tend to your every need and desire. food, protection, clothes, everythings guaranteed for you, and he makes sure you’re comfortable bcos he has the galaxy in the palm of his hand.

☥ the way he’d love being called lord vader by you when he’s knuckles deep inside of you early in the morning

☥ ask him for another honeymoon he’ll make arrangements immediately, bring you to a remote planet under the guise it’s “military reconnaissance” to his subordinates.

☥ “you wanted another honeymoon, my love? have i been neglecting you? come here, my star, i’ll make reparations.”

☥ his devotion in canon knows no bounds, so i can only imagine it transfers over. yes of course he has other responsibilities, but when he has time for you he loves to prioritize it, take care of everything else so he doesn’t get taken away from you. of course, there are plenty of times where he is taken from you, and id imagine some skirmishes come with that as well

“ever since this happened, it’s like you don’t have time for me!”

“it’s no less than when i was a part of the jedi order. i cannot ignore my responsibilities because i am in charge.”

you sigh. “you are in charge,”

a puzzled look flashed on his face, he responds hesitantly, “yes, i am.” wary about whatever you’re planning as you creep up to him. place your hands at his chest, run them up and over his shoulders.

you hum in affirmation. “you’re good at taking care of everything. so capable, so strong,” your hands love down to squeeze his biceps. he leans into your touch at the praise.

“yes, yes,”

you lean in, and he recognizes it as you forgiving him. when he closes his eyes, he chases your lips and furrows his brows when you’re not there to meet them. “except me, apparently,” you tease, and push off him to take your leave.

of course, your lover can’t resist a challenge, and follows after you. “are you really so unhappy with me, starshine?”

“i’m beginning to think you can’t handle me.”

something snaps within him, and he strides after you, intent on making his commitment to you known.

☥ to be vader’s princess, what a dream

☥ the jewelry, the dresses, the gifts he’d send for in order for you to live in luxury. i feel like he would try to keep you in an ivory tower (like he’ll let you leave if you want, with some protests and insistence he accompanies you bcos of his enemies) but if you don’t mention leaving, he’ll do whatever possible to make sure you never want to. he wants you as close to him as possible

☥ ruling the galaxy, you don’t do much ruling, you’d have the privilege of living your life in luxury, because that’s what darth vader knows you deserve

☥ would be really cool if he offed palpatine for you and took his place as emperor

#cheescakeswiftie #indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#suitless vader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin #darth vader smut #x reader #x y/n #x f!reader #darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #darth vader imagine #dv

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its-elioo · 7 months

Text

Incorrect quotes (RnM fanfic related)

Rainbow: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case?

Sideswipe: What?

Rainbow: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Sideswipe: Can we go back to the part where you said “when I get murdered”?

Sunset: I want to be a caterpillar.

Optimus: Explain?

Sunset: Eat a lot, sleep for a while, wake up beautiful.

Optimus: You are aware that they have a lifespan of two to five weeks, correct?

Sunset: That’s another highlight.

Optimus: Sunset, no—

Bumblebee: I’m not mad, I just want to know why you need a fake ID.

Fluttershy: *mumbles*

Bumblebee: What was that?

Fluttershy: …You need to be over 18 at Petco to hold the puppies.

Optimus: You are very mature for your age, Sunset.

Sunset: Thanks, it’s the trauma.

Rainbow: Sibling relationships are weird.

Rainbow: Like, I’d give Sideswipe my life on a dangerous mission without a second thought but there’s no way in hell that I’d give him a single fry from my McDonald’s meal.

Rarity: *hurts herself*

Rarity: SH-oot!

*Knock Out and Sideswipe look at each other in confusion*

Sideswipe: What was that?

Rarity: I don’t swear.

Knock Out: Why not?

Rarity: It’s not ladylike. No well-mannered woman does it.

Rainbow: *walks by in the background and stubs her toe*

Rainbow: FUCK!

Rarity: …most of us anyway.

Twilight: Excuse me, who’s in charge here?

Ratchet: Well, usually whoever yells the loudest.

Rarity: We can’t kill him!

Knock Out: Not with that attitude, we can’t.

Fixit, gesturing to Twilight: Sir, that’s my emotional support human.

Pinkie: You call it a near death experience-

Rainbow: We call it a vibe check from God!

Ratchet: *optic twitches*

Sunset: When I asked if my day could get any worse it was rhetorical question. NOT A CHALLENGE!

Sunset: I stopped a murder today.

Optimus: Good job, Sunset. I’m proud of you. How did you do it?

Sunset, staring seriously and ominously at Optimus: Self-Control.

Bulkhead: What are your superpowers again?

Applejack: Super-strength, agility and stamina, yo mamma jokes-

Bulkhead: Yo mamma jokes?

Applejack: Well Bulk, I’m an orphan so they can’t say anything back.

Bulkhead: Kid—

Ratchet: How would you rate your pain?

Twilight: Zero stars, would not recommend.

Rainbow: Hey, Ratch.

Ratchet: *sighs* Yes?

Rainbow: If you say the words “control alt delete” do you just, like, straight up die?

Ratchet:

Ratchet: Every day I convince myself humans are intelligent life forms and every day I am proven wrong.

Sunset: I’m willing to do a lot of things.

Sunset: But admitting to Optimus that I’m cold after he told me to bring a jacket is not one of them.

Everyone else: Knock Out, no!

Knock Out: Knock Out, yes!

Rarity: Knock Out, no.

Knock Out: Knock Out, no.

Fluttershy: *staring blankly at a wall*

Bumblebee: Fluttershy? What’s wrong?

Fluttershy: Did you know that rap stands for ‘rhyme and poetry’?

Bumblebee:

Bumblebee: *sits down and joins Fluttershy in staring at the wall*

Arcee: You’re okay, right? You’re not hurt?

Twilight: No, no, no, I’m fine! Totally fine, no, no, I’m fine.

Arcee: Really? Because you’re repeating your words you look pale and you look like you’re about to topple over.

Twilight: Yeah, you might wanna catch me.

Twilight: [holds up a cauliflower in front of Ratchet] What is this?

Ratchet: … a cauliflower?

Twilight: [turns to Pinkie and Smokescreen] Okay, now tell him what you think it is.

Both: Ghost broccoli!

Rainbow: I’m ten times funnier than you.

Sideswipe: Ten times zero is still zero.

Rainbow: Well, jokes on you, I can’t do math.

Arcee: You’re up early this morning.

Twilight: …

Arcee: You never went to sleep, did you?

Rainbow: You’re an attention-seeker.

Sideswipe: What?! I’m the total opposite of an attention-seeker. I’m the best there ever is, I do not- hey, don’t look away when I’m talking here!

Knock Out: Do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you!

Knock Out: Please ask me to kill for you.

Rarity: …First of all, calm down.

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rippleclan · 2 months

Text

RippleClan: Moon 36

Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle have become mates.

[Image ID: Oilstripe says to Carnationspeckle, “You’re already a hero, Carnation.” Under Oilstripe, it says + MATE: CARNATIONSPECKLE. Under Carnationspeckle, it says + MATE: OILSTRIPE. Rustshade, Rattlepelt, and Applepelt watch from afar.]

Oilstripe watched Downstar and Rustshade quietly share tongues below the Shiprock as she steadied her nerves. Would Downstar be annoyed if Oilstripe interrupted? She knew Downstar spent the most time with Rustshade when her mood was low (Duskkit kept her up one night complaining about it), was now a good time? It had to be. Oilstripe couldn’t wait much longer.

“Dad?” Oilstripe said, approaching the two founders. “Do you have a minute to talk with me?” Rustshade paused with his tongue on Downstar’s ear.

“What about?” Rustshade asked. Oilstripe hesitated as Downstar’s sharp amber eyes studied her ginger pelt.

“I can explain in private,” Oilstripe finally said. Rustshade brushed his tail against Downstar and got up. Downstar silently slunk back to her den. Duskkit’s spirit peeked out from the nursery and ran into the leader’s den. Rustshade followed Oilstripe’s gaze but could not see the star speckled kit.

Oilstripe led Rustshade around the Shiprock and said “I’m taking Carnationspeckle out hunting, and I need you to do me a favor. Can you find Rattlepelt a few minutes after we leave and follow us?”

“Why would I do that?” Rustshade huffed.

“I’d feel bad if she didn’t get to see this,” Oilstripe admitted. “Carnation told me the reason she always asks for both of us to help her with her tasks is because she wants us to be mates. She should get to see Carnation’s reaction.” It took a moment for Rustshade’s mind to catch up with Oilstripe’s implication.

“You want to make your relationship official?” Rustshade hummed.

“I think it’s time,” Oilstripe said with a stiff nod.

“Stars right, it's about time!” Applepelt’s shimmering spirit cheered from the top of Shiprock. Oilstripe flinched as Applepelt chanted, “My friends are becoming mates! My friends are becoming mates!”

“More ghostly advice?” Rustshade asked, glancing in Applepelt’s direction. “If StarClan is excited for you, then I’m happy for you. I’ll bring Rattlepelt. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes, Dad,” Oilstripe said as the object of Oilstripe’s affections shifted in the corner of her eye. Carnationspeckle played with the kits outside the nursery, giving James a break (the ginger tom looked like he’d been tossed through a thunderstorm and dried with a bolt of lightning).

Palekit snuggled with James while Puddlekit and Waspkit tried to drag Carnationspeckle down.

“If you’re sure, you’re sure,” Rustshade hummed, spotting Carnationspeckle. “Good luck, Oilstripe.” Oilstripe shook the sand out of her pelt and marched up to the nursery. She only got part way to Carnationspeckle before tiny fangs dug into her ankle. Oilstripe yelped and stumbled forward. Ripplekit giggled underneath her, batting the long strands of fur that dangled from Oilstripe’s belly.

“She’s going to be good in a fight!” Carnationspeckle giggled.

“Are you too busy?” Oilstripe asked, trying to get Ripplekit out from under her. The quick kit kept darting back under her belly.

“It’s as though they feed on each other!” Carnationspeckle laughed as Lavenderkit appeared behind her and grabbed onto her tail. “They just keep going!”

“Sleep is for kits!” Lavenderkit yowled, jaw tight around Carnationspeckle’s tail.

“But we are kits,” Puddlekit pointed out, slipping off Carnationspeckle’s head.

“I can wait until you’re finished,” Oilstripe promised as the greedy little kit in her head screamed at the injustice of it all.

“I can watch the kits.” Downstar left her den, Duskkit hovering behind her. Downstar grabbed Waspkit by the scruff and lifted him off Carnationspeckle.

“Really?” Carnationspeckle said with wide eyes.

“I could use some time with the next generation,” Downstar chuckled. Duskkit trotted past Oilstripe with her tail held high. Oilstripe playfully flicked a paw at Duskkit while all eyes were on Downstar. Duskkit laughed and charged out of camp, vanishing with a twinkle.

“Downstar, Downstar!” Ripplekit cheered, pouncing on the tortoiseshell leader as she took Carnationspeckle’s spot outside the nursery. “Do you want to hear what Scrubmask taught me?”

“Please share,” Downstar purred. All five of Weedfoot’s kits swarmed Downstar while Carnationspeckle crept up to Oilstripe.

“Since you’re free now,” Oilstripe chuckled, licking her bitten ankle, “can we go hunting together? I found a patch of trees where the squirrels love to play.”

“Oh, alright,” Carnationspeckle purred, “but may I suggest we head to the ocean? I’d love to show you some of the diving techniques I’ve been practicing. I’m hoping to teach the kits what I can do once they’re apprenticed!”

“I don’t think I want to get wet right now,” Oilstripe admitted as Applepelt stuck their face between the pair. Their ethereal eyes sparkled as they bounced between Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle. Oilstripe tried to pretend she didn’t see her old friend and instead led Carnationspeckle toward the camp exit. As she did, however, she could see Rustshade speaking with Rattlepelt beside her tanning rack. Oilstripe forced back a purr.

It wouldn’t be long before sunhigh hit, but the dappled shade of the conifers kept Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle cool. The smell of prey blanketed the mossy floor, although large human tracks left deep prints in the warm dirt. Applepelt appeared and disappeared from between the tree, battering Oilstripe with wild rambles. Oilstripe could barely keep an eye on the prey with all of Applepelt’s cheering.

“I had a feeling you would get together,” Applepelt purred as Oilstripe stalked a pair of playful squirrels. “I don’t simply mean as long as I’ve been dead, either. I joined the Clan and saw you two together and knew you would be a wonderful pairing! Then again, I imagined I would be there to celebrate. I suppose in a way I am here, though. You’re simply the only one who can hear me celebrate!” Oilstripe pounced on one of the happy squirrels. Its partner scurried away as the unfortunate critter stopped squirming.

“I hereby bless this catch!” Applepelt laughed as Carnationspeckle trotted up.

“Applepelt, please, I can’t hear my own thoughts right now,” Oilstripe finally snapped, dropping her squirrel. “If you’re going to be here, can you watch from the side, quietly?”

“Applepelt’s here?” Carnationspeckle gasped. “Hello, Applepelt! I’ve missed you. I hope StarClan is treating you well.” Carnationspeckle guessed where Applepelt stood, but looked about a tail-length off from where the dead cat actually was.

“It is, thank you Carnationspeckle,” Applepelt purred, bowing slightly to her old friend.

“Stars, I’m sorry,” Oilstripe groaned. “It must be weird to hear me talking to the dead like this. I try not to when others are around.”

“I think it’s amazing that you can speak to StarClan as easily as you speak to me,” Carnationspeckle sighed. Applepelt’s face grew still and oddly serene as she stepped back. Copper and heather eyes glinted from the other side of the brush behind Carnationspeckle. “What do they talk to you about?”

“Well, typically they visit to check on those they’ve left behind,” Oilstripe explained, whiskers twitching. She licked drops of squirrel blood off her muzzle. “When I see them and I’m alone, I like to ask them about their lives. It’s not the sort of prophetic, supernatural knowledge they have to be careful with, so they’re happy to share their stories with me.”

“That must be wonderful, knowing what StarClan does in the territories like that,” Carnationspeckle hummed. She shifted awkwardly, glancing at where she thought Applepelt stood, and asked, “Do they talk about me at all? Do they watch over me?”

“As much as anyone else, I suppose,” Oilstripe admitted. She left her squirrel on the sun dappled grass and sat closer to Carnationspeckle.

“Do your ancestors visit you?” Carnationspeckle asked. “Rustshade’s parents, your littermates, Sunstrike?” Oilstripe rubbed a paw deeper into the grass.

“I haven’t seen Sunstrike at all,” Oilstripe muttered. “I don’t know where she is. Locustseeker and Twinekit don’t like to talk about her. I think she’s ignoring me.”

“Sometimes I feel the same way about StarClan as a whole,” Carnationspeckle sighed. Her fur drooped with her whiskers as she stared downwards. “I’ve been in RippleClan since the beginning, but I haven’t done anything amazing like you or Downstar or anyone else. I’ve just minded the camp. StarClan would rather put their efforts towards the heroes than the campbodies, I imagine.”

Oilstripe pressed her nose into the soft fluff of Carnationspeckle’s neck. The brown molly gasped softly as Oilstripe gently groomed her fur.

“You’re already a hero, Carnation,” Oilstripe assured her. “You don’t need to speak to ghosts or come back to life to be one. I’ve never met a kinder molly, or anyone I would rather share my life or nest with. That’s enough for me.” Carnationspeckle met Oilstripe’s eyes. She didn’t breathe.

“You want to be mates?” Carnationspeckle whispered.

“I already feel like your mate,” Oilstripe laughed, tucking her tail over Carnationspeckle’s, “so could we make it official? I want to put you first the way you put everyone else first.” Carnationspeckle nodded furiously as a soft whine built inside her.

“I would really like that,” Carnationspeckle cried. She pressed into Oilstripe as hard as she could. Oilstripe pressed back, wrapping around her new mate. Applepelt stood to the side, beaming like the brightest star in Silverpelt.

“Have fun, you two,” she chuckled. Oilstripe blinked, and all that remained of Applepelt was a shimmer of stardust dangling in the warm, still air.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Oilstripe laughed into Carnationspeckle’s ear, “but I had my father bring a witness. Come out, Rattlepelt.”

Carnationspeckle gasped and pulled away as Rattlepelt and Rustshade stepped out of the brush. Rattlepelt wore the fox pelt covering she and Rabbitjoy had collected from Wildclaw’s unfortunate victim moons ago, but it nearly fell off as Rattlepelt ran to Carnationspeckle.

“You’re going to be so happy together,” Rattlepelt purred, rubbing against Carnationspeckle. Carnationspeckle laughed through her joyful cries and groomed Rattlepelt’s face. Oilstripe joined in, sharing tongues with both of her new family members. Their deep purrs scared away any ghostly worries that swam through Oilstripe’s mind.

(Oilstripe: 40, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Rustshade: 80, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Downstar: 95, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Duskkit: 4, female, kit, troublesome, quick witted)

(Applepelt: 31, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Carnationspeckle: 38, female, caretaker compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(James: 112, male, caretaker, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Palekit: 2, male, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder)

(Waspkit: 2, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history)

(Puddlekit: 2, male, kit, polite, morbid curiosity, oddly observant)

(Ripplekit: 2, male, kit, know-it-all, avid play-fighter, splashes in puddles)

(Lavenderkit: 2, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(Rattlepelt: 19, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

Shadowdrop is happy to find his body finally pain free. Yet he watches Carnationspeckle’s celebration from afar, thinking of what could have been. Weedfoot tries to comfort him to no avail.

[Image ID: Weedfoot faces Shadowdrop, who watches a crowd surrounding Oilstripe and Carnationspeckle in the back. Under Shadowdrop, it says - CONDITION: BROKEN BONE. Under Weedfoot, it says - CONDITION: BLOOD LOSS.]

(Shadowdrop: 28, male, codekeeper, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)

(Weedfoot: 85, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

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