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#(i have to stop making edits in the middle of the night seriously...)
project-sonadow · 4 months
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My [15M] rival [15/50M] has been weirdly aggressive towards me ever since he lost his memories for the second(?) time. Should I be worried about him trying to kill me again?
Summary
A post on r/relationship_advice by u/Chili_Dog1991
EDIT 1: Stop saying I'm Sonic I'm not.
EDIT 2: Okay I am Sonic. I don't see how that matters.
EDIT 3: Stop trying to figure out which of my rivals this is.
EDIT 4: Stop telling me to contact the police about his attempts to murder me or his age. It's complicated in regards to his age but he's essentially 15 and I can already defend myself way better than the police can in regards to his murder attempts. Also the police would probably try to arrest me too because they're either useless or make things actively worse.
EDIT 5: Stop DMing me to ask how murder attempts can be fun. I shouldn't have to explain this.
EDIT 6: Stop implying I'm a masochist.
EDIT 7: Stop implying I'm an adrenaline junkie. If I just wanted adrenaline I've got tons of other people who could give me that.
EDIT 8: To everyone who actually responded with advice, thank you. I attempted to talk to him about it, we fought again, and it turns out he's been acting aggressive because he doesn't know how to show affection so he just defaults to violence. We ended up holding hands after we physically couldn't fight anymore. It was a great night and I think we're together now.
EDIT 9: Which of you motherfuckers sent this to Tails.
ORIGINAL POST
Hi everyone, using a throwaway account to make this post because my little brother knows my main and the embarrassment would kill me if he ever saw this. 
So for context, I've known this guy for a while now, at least in the context of my life. I've got a pretty hectic life and I'm a traveler, so I've met a lot of people and he's one of the few that's been able to keep up with me. Our first meeting was during a bit of a stressful time because he kind of inadvertently framed me for thievery (we look kinda alike and the police are stupid, it's not his fault but I was pretty pissed at the time) and got me arrested, so we ended up fighting about it in the middle of the street. I'm used to fighting and pretty good at it, so it was a surprise when he turned out to be basically my equal at it, which is pretty rare even among my other rivals. He got the upper hand on me for long enough that the police were able to arrest me again. I was pretty mad but also impressed. Our second meeting was even more stressful because I had just got out of jail after being arrested for the second time, and I was still angry about it so we fought again. I was about to win but then it turned out we were both in danger along with some friends of mine so we both left as fast as we could. Both of these times I could tell he was taking the fight seriously, but I could also tell he wasn't trying to KILL ME kill me. Y'know?
Anyway, in our next meeting he was definitely trying to kill me. Outright said it to my face. I won that fight thankfully, and I'm not even angry about it because a lot of people have tried to kill me over the years and also he has some kind of goal I was getting in the way of, and he didn't even succeed. He ended up changing his mind about that goal though, and when we next saw each other we were on the same side trying to deal with a mutual threat. 
And it was at that point I kind of realized I was in love. I've never really wanted a relationship because I thought it would get in the way of my lifestyle, but with this guy specifically it wouldn't be a problem. I would have told him about it, but then I thought he died and I didn't see him for a while. I wasn't too broken up about it because we only knew each other for a couple days, but I was still sadder than I thought I would have been.
He ended up coming back to life though, and he had lost his memories for the second time in his life (long story I'm not gonna get into) and he didn't really remember me anymore. I know from a mutual friend of ours that he remembered me well enough to be annoyed by my name, which made me irrationally happy, and I think he did end up getting his memories back, but when we first saw each other he definitely didn't know who I was. We fought again, it was a tie, and then we ended up teaming up to take down a mutual enemy again. 
Things have been a bit less chaotic since then. We've fought a couple more times but nothing serious, he's saved my life, I've saved his, you know how it goes. We haven't really talked about anything that happened, but that's fine because neither of us have ever been much for verbal communication and we understand each other just fine. I've tried getting over my crush on him, but that's never really worked because we see each other a lot due to our lifestyles and we have some mutual friends in common, and I like spending time with him anyways, even if we're just beating each other up most of the time.
Personality wise, he's basically my polar opposite, but we get on pretty well despite that. I think aside from my general attraction to danger and his ability to match me in a fight and a race that might be the main thing that draws me to him. I've got a lot of friends, but never one so different from me and yet so similar. He's just always been special to me.
But the main reason I'm making this post is because despite all we've been through, he still acts like we're enemies at worst and temporary allies at best. We fight almost every time we meet unless something less serious is going on, and he's pretty grumpy and mean to me all the time. I like this about him, but it does make me question if he even sees me as anything more than a rival, and I don't know how to ask him because we don't talk about weird emotional stuff. I also think that asking him directly could maybe lead to another murder attempt, which would be fun, but it's not what I'm looking for anymore. I don't mind all the fighting, but just once I'd like to kiss him on the mouth instead of punching his teeth in, y'know?
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mylittleredgirl · 1 month
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i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!
i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.
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[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]
this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!
she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.
from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]
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really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"
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it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.
it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.
from season 4 "the interview":
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whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.
if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.
this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:
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and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!
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that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.
and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.
to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.
and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.
and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…
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i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)
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from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.
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i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.
has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.
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...... but her circumstances have recently changed.
[reblog with the rest of it is here!]
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screamingoverfiction · 5 months
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So, This Is Love?
Fred Weasley x f!-reader. House mentioned as Slytherin but not super important. Reader isn't described except as having dimples. 18+ Smut ahead. Minors DNI! Not Edited.
I totally didn't start writing this over the summer and then forget about it in my drafts...totally.
Word Count: 4.25k
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"You seriously don't have a date?" Madelyn questioned, raising a brow as she continued curling her blonde hair.
"I don't need one. I'll just pick up some bloke on the sidelines if I want to dance," Y/n said, smoothing her dress and checking herself in the mirror a final time.
Y/n had been looking forward to the masquerade ball for a while, eager to be unknown to all, free from her burdens, and able to dance her heart out without worry.
She was now descending the stairs into the common room, her face concealed by a beautiful masquerade mask. Her lips broke into a wide grin. No one could recognize her.
She practically skipped down the halls, not caring about anything or anyone, happy to be free from her life, even for only a night.
When she arrived at the great hall, her eyes went wide in awe. It was beautiful. Colorful banners hung around every wall, and the floor was converted into a ballroom.
She descended the stairs, still smiling from ear to ear. She was unable to hide her joy. It was like she was a little girl again.
She stepped into the great hall, eyes scanning over the seemingly hundreds of students, and she didn't know any of them. It was exhilarating. 
As she looked out the room, her eyes connected with someone else's, a tall boy with beautiful brown eyes and fiery hair wearing a black mask.
She tilted her head with a small smile, and he copied her, the grin on his lips making her heart jump. Y/n raised a brow, and he once again copied her, the silly, childish smile on his lips making her laugh.
She bit back a smirk, glancing around before wading through the crowd, her heart skipping a beat when he made his way toward her as well.
They met in the middle, staring at each other behind masks, neither knowing who the other was. 
"Care to dance?" The boy started, offering his hand, a sly smile twitching on his lips. She knew that voice, somehow- somewhere, but she just couldn't place it.
"You sound familiar," Y/n said, placing her hand in his, her heart rate increasing as he positioned his other on her waist, starting to dance.
His smile widened. He twirled Y/n around to the soft orchestral tune of the song, eyes never leaving her. He didn't know a girl this beautiful existed.
"So do you," He spoke, hand returning to her waist, gaze flickering down to her perfect lips before snapping back to her eyes.
"What's your name?" The boy asked between songs, his brown hues staring deep into hers.
"That ruins the fun. Don't you think?" Y/n laughed, flashing him her infamous grin, her dimples shining through. 
He swore he knew that smile, those dimples…
"I suppose you're right," The boy replied, smirking, sliding his hand into hers once again as the song started.
They danced for what seemed like hours, song after song, asking each other various questions between the music, wishing the moment would never end. Yet, by the end of the night. Neither had a clue who the other was.
"Attention, students," A booming voice Y/n knew as Dumbledore called out over the room, stopping everyone in their tracks.
The boy and Y/n looked up. Brows furrowed in confusion at the headmaster's words.
"At exactly 11 p.m., your masks will no longer be enchanted. You are free to leave before then if you wish to remain anonymous, or the dance will continue for thirty minutes afterward if you wish to stay," Dumbledore announced, causing gasps to leave almost everyone's lips.
Y/n quickly whirled to see the clock. It read 10:49 p.m. She had ten minutes to leave.
She turned back, meeting the boy's gaze. His eyes were unreadable, his handsome features locked in an expression of indecisiveness. 
"I guess we have a decision to make," Y/n said quietly, swallowing thickly and pursing her lips.
They stared at each other silently for a moment, neither having the courage to speak until he finally opened his mouth.
"You can leave if you want," He said, his eyes still curious about who she was, but he wouldn't force it.
Y/n bit her cheek in thought, reminiscing the night, how he made her laugh, his charming and witty personality, and his somehow proper yet clumsy dancing. And it was a plus that he was divinely handsome, even from the little features she could see.
"I don't think I want to," She finally answered, her lips forming into a slight smile.
His eyes visibly lightened, breaking out into a grin; he glanced around before tugging her through the crowd, hand in hand.
He led her outside near the archway into the courtyard, his hand still tightly gripping hers.
"Privacy," He spoke, eyes flickering to her lips, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.
Y/n stepped closer until they were almost chest to chest, her heart beating incredibly fast. Her hands were resting on his shoulders, eyes unable to leave his.
She glanced at the clock behind him: 10:59. It was now or never.
"Kiss me," She whispered quickly, surprising even herself with the desperation in her voice. 
He didn't hesitate to lean down, crashing his lips against hers, his hand cupping her cheek as the masks magically disappeared from their faces.
But neither pulled back, too entranced by the kiss to even remember to breathe. It was as if their lives depended on the sweet taste of the other's lips.
The boy leaned further into her, his hand on her hips, drawing her in. Y/n parted her lips, welcoming him with equal passion, her hand traveling from his shoulder to the back of his neck, lacing her fingers in his soft hair.
After what felt like hours of kissing, they slowly pulled away, equally terrified of what was to come.
Y/n couldn't open her eyes. Their foreheads rested against each other while they waited for their courage to brew.
He was the first to step back, and then Y/n opened her eyes, finally locking onto his beautiful- beautiful face. 
Her jaw went slack, her expression paling as she stared at his equally mortified face.
Frederick Weasley.
The infamous prankster of Gryffindor, along with his twin. Notorious for picking on Slytherins, Y/n included- not that it wasn't reciprocated, but still. 
Fred Weasley.
"You've got to be fucking with me," Y/n said, stumbling back, an expression of horror taking over her features.
She ran her hands along her face and through her hair, eyes wide while she tried to process exactly what was happening.
Fred could only stand there, shocked, his mouth unable to form a coherent sentence. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.
“Anyone but you!" Y/n said again with a groan covering her face and glancing back, making sure that she wasn't hallucinating.
"I should've known from the dimples," Fred finally said with a dry laugh, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away, swallowing thickly.
"You get that if anyone finds out about this, we're dead," Y/n hissed, pointing a malicious finger in his direction.
Fred rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw and leaning against the nearby pillar, an expression of deep thought on his face. His freckles seemed to shine in the moonlight.
"Don't say fucking a word," She spoke sternly, not looking back as she walked away.
"You know, for a second, I thought... Fred sighed, shaking his head, his posture tense.
Y/n froze in her tracks, her eyes softening slightly before returning to a scowl. She turned around, their eyes connected, and she couldn’t keep the mask up any longer.
"In another world, Weasley," Y/n said quietly, but he heard. She could tell by the way his features softened.
He huffed a sour laugh, rubbing his jaw and then running that same hand through his messy red hair, flashing her a quick smile. His brown eyes were lighter now, a twinge of that mischief she knew him for.
"See you around, Y/n," Fred called back, lowering his head and walking in the other direction.
Y/n rolled her eyes, biting back her smile as she walked down the corridor, back to the Slytherin common room, and away from Fred.
Or so she thought.
Before she'd even reached the portrait door entrance, he was sprinting down the hallway, but Y/n didn't hear his rapidly approaching footsteps until he was directly next to her.
She turned her head as he slowed to a stop, cheeks tinted red from running, breathing heavily. His eyes bore an unreadable emotion.
"What are you-?" She started to ask, but his lips were on hers before she could finish, his hands on either side of her face.
The kiss was short and plain, simply testing the waters. He pulled back, swallowing thickly and searching her eyes for any sign of anger, ready to take a slap if needed.
Y/n blinked once, scoffing slightly.
"You're an idiot," She breathed, shaking her head, grabbing him by the collar, and yanking him down until their lips connected.
Fred kissed her back almost immediately, one hand cupping her cheek and the other resting on her hip.
Y/n knew it was wrong, knew that she was putting them both in danger, but oh, how she felt so warm in his embrace.
Her mind was screaming for her to pull away and slap him across the face, but her heart, her body-her soul wouldn't let her.
Y/n always thought there was no room for anyone in her heart except herself, but he was slowly changing her mind, cracking open the stone casing of her soul and weaseling his way inside without lifting a pinky. Many suitors had tried and failed to break down her walls for years, and he'd done it in three hours.
Gathering her thoughts, she pulled away, wide-eyed and dazed. Her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath she took.
Fred stared into her eyes with a soft, warm sincerity she'd only seen in movies and read about in fictitious novels, and now it was real. She wasn’t thinking coherently anymore. She wanted him, and he wanted her. 
Why couldn’t they have each other?
They were practically running through the Slytherin common room, trying and failing to shield Fred’s identity from the other students.
“I’m pretty sure at least three first years saw us,” Fred whispered to her as they reached the top of the steps.
“Fuck. I’ll just scare them into not snitching,” Y/n sighed, peering down the hall before unlocking her dorm.
Fred laughed at her mumbles, smiling wickedly as she pulled him inside the dorm with her by his tie.
Their lips met before the door was even shut. Fred had to quickly push it shut before deepening the kiss.
His hands were on her hips, inviting her into his arms, which she eagerly accepted. Fred spun them around, pressing her back to the door.
Y/n couldn’t suppress the small, almost whimper-like gasp that escaped her lips when his lips trailed down her jaw.
Fred smirked against her skin, softly kissing and biting her exposed throat, leaving hickeys and open-mouthed kisses wherever he could.
Her breaths were more so moans and pants at this point. Her eyes closed to bask in the pleasure of his lips.
He skillfully lowered to his knees, propping her legs over his shoulders, her dress bunched to almost her waist.
Their eyes met again. Hers looked down at him through hazy lust and his piercing into hers with burning desire.
“May I?” Fred asked, gently tracing circles and kissing her inner thighs, waiting for her permission.
Y/n quickly nodded, the yearning heat in her core already pooling wetness in her panties.
“I need words, angel. Please,” He said again. Those warm pools of brown were entirely focused. Not a single thought behind them wasn’t about her.
Y/n closed her eyes, knocking her head back and swallowing thickly before slipping her eyes to his again.
“Yes, Fred, please,” She whispered, choking down her pride and letting herself fall apart for him.
Fred smirked, lowering himself further down and cupping her heat. The sudden jolt of her body and the gasp she emitted made his cock strain against his trousers.
The apex of his palm pressed into her clothed clit, making her bite back moans. His lips attacked her inner thighs, marking hickeys, and then kissing them better.
“So wet, and I haven’t even touched you,” He murmured into the soft flesh of her thighs. Oh, how he could die a happy man between her legs.
Y/n hand flew to his hair, lacing her fingers in the red strands as his lips made their way to the place she wanted them most.
His fingers hooked in the waistband of her underwear, slowly pulling them down in an almost teasing manner.
Y/n clenched her jaw, glaring down at Fred as he smirked back, his grin widening at her disdain.
“If you want me to do something, all you have to do is ask nicely,” He spoke, quirking a brow and rolling his tongue along his cheek to hide his enjoyment.
Y/n huffed, shaking her head and shoving her shame into a deep dark corner.
“Do something…please,” She replied in an almost whisper.
“What was that? Speak up, love,” Fred said, even though he’d heard her every word.
“Oh fuck off you-” She started, but he cut her off with his tongue, slipping it inside her aching slit.
Y/n let out a loud, gasping moan, knocking her head against the door and arching herself further into Fred.
“Shh. I thought you didn’t want the others hearing us?” Fred cooed, a hint of mischief lacing his tone.
His tongue worked against her clit, flicking over the sensitive little bud while he slipped a finger inside her entrance, adding a second once after a few moments, curling them up against her g-spot.
“Fuck you,” Y/n breathed, her mouth hanging open as his tongue and fingers worked magic between her legs.
Fred smiled into her cunt, hitting the perfect places with each stroke and thrust, tongue lapping up the juices of her arousal as they leaked from her needy cunt. One of her hands was in his hair, the other covering her mouth to muffle the erotic sounds threatening to spill from her lips.
Suddenly, the knob beside her hip began to turn, making her quickly uncover her mouth and stop whoever it was from coming inside.
Fred quickly shot up at the noise, his eyes going wide.
“What the hell-? Y/n, are you in there?” Madelyn called from the other side of the door, jiggling the knob again.
“Uh, yeah, but I’m uh-” Y/n tried to think of an excuse, but nothing came to mind. She looked down at Fred for help, but his lips simply turned into an evil smirk. Pressing a finger to his lips before continuing to eat her out, flattening his tongue and running it up her slit to her clit before closing his lips around the nub and sucking.
Y/n gasped out, clasping a hand over her mouth before uncovering it to hold the door again.
“Hold on. Are you getting fuck-”
“Madelyn, I think you should find someplace else to sleep!” Y/n shouted, cutting Madelyn off.
Y/n heard a snort from the other side, along with a mumble of something incoherent.
“Enjoy your night, Y/n. Don’t get pregnant,” Madelyn snickered, walking down the hall without another word.
“You are a complete and utter imbecile-” Y/n hissed at Fred, moaning out in pleasure as his fingers hit her g-spot, her gummy walls clenching around his lanky digits as she neared her orgasm.
The knot in her core was tightening faster than she could comprehend. It was burning and coiling- seconds away from breaking.
“Freddie-” She whimpered his name, her fingers tightly gripping his hair, making him smile against her cunt, his brown eyes staring up at her with mischief and lust.
The knot in her stomach snapped. Her legs tried to close around his head as her back arched against the door. The waves of pleasure coursing through her veins enough to make her eyes roll into her head.
Fred forced her legs apart, letting her ride out her high, his tongue lazily stroking her clit as her thighs shook with pleasure, chin dripping with her juices.
Y/n swallowed, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she struggled to regain her breath. One of her hands was still in his hair, loosely grasping it.
She lowered her eyes, looking at him through a hazy lidden gaze. His hair was messy and falling over his forehead, his tie was now loose, hanging half-hazardously around his neck, and his eyes were staring into hers with pure passion and devotion.
“Hi,” Y/n spoke. Her mascara was runny and smudged, and her forehead had a slight shine of sweat, but Fred thought she was beautiful. He was completely and utterly enamored.
Fred laughed, smiling up at her and shaking his head, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiles.
“Hi,” He replied, setting her carefully back onto her legs and rising to his full height, looking down at her once again.
There was silence for a moment, and then Y/n brought her hand to the back of his neck, connecting their lips.
Fred kissed her back, lifting her into his arms again and carrying her to the closest bed.
“Ah- no, this is Madelyn’s,” Y/n quickly said.
Fred rolled his eyes and carried her to the other, setting her down before hovering overtop and kissing her deeply.
Y/n started unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling with the buttons until she could remove it from his body.
Fred threw the shirt, not caring where it ended up. Y/n’s hands ran down his torso, tracing from his broad shoulders to his abs. It was safe to say he was muscular and toned with muscles, but not obnoxiously.
Y/n kissed along his jawline as he unzipped her dress, leaving a hickey directly on his jaw.
“If you get me a detention-” Fred muttered as he started to drag her dress down her shoulders. 
“Oh, hush,” Y/n spoke, tenderly kissing the fresh bruise and leaning back to admire her work.
If she were a patient woman, she’d take her time to kiss every freckle dotted across his pale skin, but her mind was clouded with lust. She’d kiss them later.
Y/n finished taking off her dress, not caring where it fell to. Fred was kissing along her throat, one hand snaking around her back, unclipping her bra with concerning skill and tossing it to the side.
“Done this much?” She inquired, smirking when he lifted his gaze to hers.
“I’ve had my fair share of practice,” Fred replied, matching her teasing energy. Reaching forward to her face, he brushed a stray piece of her hair away, smiling softly.
Their eye contact felt intimate, as if it meant more than a night of lust. 
“Fred,” Y/n said quietly, her hand reaching up, fingers dancing along his jaw.
“Yeah?” Fred answered. Even if he didn’t know it, he was completely, and utterly hers. It was as if she’d enchanted him.
“Your eyes are beautiful,” Y/n whispered, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone. Her pupils dilated, longingly staring into his eyes, his beautiful eyes.
Fred swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his mouth opened to speak- but no words left his lips. He couldn’t answer her. There were no words to describe how he felt.
So instead of speaking, he dipped down, connecting their lips again, kissing her with so much force and passion that their teeth clashed together, but neither seemed to care.
Her makeup was a lost cause at this point. Her lipstick was smeared everywhere, across his lips, along his cheek, and down his jawline.
His hands ran along her body, massaging her chest, his mouth leaving hers to start kissing her breasts, tongue flicking over sensitive nipples, teeth nipping softly.
“Oh- Fred-” She mewled, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, hand lacing into his hair, small sharp whimpers flying from her lips.
Fred groaned as she reached down to his trousers, her fingers hooking into his belt loops and pulling him even closer.
He skillfully unbuckles his belt with concerning ease, tossing it to the floor and returning his lips to hers.
Y/n pushed her hips up against Fred’s bulge, still covered by his boxers, and he couldn’t help but rasp out a low noise from his throat, almost a moan.
Y/n slid her hands down his toned abdomen, her nails lightly scratching his v-line as she dipped her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, starting to tug them down impatiently.
Fred lets out a breathy laugh at her impatience and quickly helps her pull his boxers off, freeing his already-hardened cock. The red tip leaking pre-cum.
Y/n’s eyes widen slightly. She expected him to be above average, but not this big- he was at least 8.5 inches in length with a pretty sizable amount of girth as well as a slight curve to the right. 
Fred noticed her expression and laughed, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her lips back to his as he hoisted one of her legs up over his shoulder, the head of his cock teasingly rubbing up and down her slit, bumping at the hood of her clit.
Y/n let out a soft whine, biting her lip and pressing her cheek against Fred’s freckled shoulder as she bucks her hips against his dick, practically begging for him to thrust inside. 
“Fred, please-” Y/n says breathlessly, her leg hooking around him.
Fred, detecting her neediness, kisses her on the cheek before slowly and gently easing his cock into her wet and aching pussy, but no matter how ready she thought she was the stretch of his size made her tense up. 
“Fuck- you’re tight. You gotta relax f’me, sweetheart,” Fred says through gritted teeth, the squeezing of her walls around his cock almost enough to make him burst on the spot.
Y/n lets out a shaky breath, adjusting to his size and letting out a moan as he pushes all the way in, her insides feeling so full as he starts to move. 
Fred thrusts in and out of her cunt at a moderate pace, not wanting to hurt her by being too rough. It was her first time taking a cock this large.
The head of his cock nudges against her g-spot just right, causing her to let out a string of whimpers and whines, occasionally bumping against her cervix, which was only slightly painful. His pelvis grinding against her clit in just the right way to stimulate the bud.
“F-Faster-” Y/n says in an exasperated voice, needing Fred to go faster, her second orgasm already building in her stomach, the white-hot feeling causing her to curl her toes
Fred doesn’t hesitate to follow her command, picking up the pace and groaning against her neck as she clenches around his cock, telling him she’s close to finishing, as is he.
“Fuck- Y/n. I don’t think I can last much longer-” Fred manages to say through heavy breaths, sweat rolling down his skin as he grips the sheets until his knuckles go white.
The sound of skin slapping together consumes the room as Fred’s thrusts become more sloppy and desperate as he nears his orgasm, his breathing uneven and rushed.
“Ah- Fred, I’m coming-” Y/n says, her climax building up fast and crashing over her hard, back arching, hips spasming against his as her legs shake. Her eyes seemed to roll into the back of her head as the hot waves of pleasure hit her like lightning.
Fred finishes a few seconds after, barely managing to pull out before he comes, hot ropes of white cum shooting from his cock onto her stomach as he rides out his high.
Fred collapses beside her, both of them breathing heavily as they recover from the previous activity. 
Fred is the first to rise, grabbing his boxers and sliding them on before kissing Y/n softly on the forehead. He walks to the bathroom and grabs a towel, wetting it with warm water. 
The feeling of a warm damp towel on her stomach jolts Y/n from her little trance, and she looks up at for a moment Fred as he cleans her up before laying back down with a tired sigh. 
Fred simply smiles and sighs, biting his cheek as he gets up and starts to root through her closet for a shirt she can wear to bed, finding one with a picture of a Hippogriff on it and then handing it to her so she can slip it on.
Y/n lays in her bed, makeup a disaster and her hair a mess, but Fred thinks she could never be more beautiful.
“Are you staying?” Y/n asks from her bed, finally managing to sit up, drinking the glass of water Fred had fetched for her. 
“I can if you want me to,” Fred says, stopping in the middle of gathering his clothes, not expecting her to want him to stay.
Y/n bites her lip and shifts a little on the bed her face flushing slightly as she murmurs. “I want you to,”
----
Hope you all enjoyed it and have a wonderful day!
361 notes · View notes
oddinarylani · 7 months
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'we hardly ever hug' w/ best friend skz
w: angst in lee know's part, anxiety in felix's
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𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴
your ears perk at the sound of the door knob rattling but your eyes remain fixed at your laptop screen curiously. eyes flutter over word after word on the document, making a quick adjustment to a phrase, then returning to reading over. it was a vicious cycle really for editors - and this was your seventh piece to edit this week, and it was only wednesday.
the sun had set hours ago, and only the quiet rumbling of a passing storm could be heard besides the quiet shuffling of chan entering your shared apartment. your ears hadn’t perked to sound in hours, and when your eyes filter over the time in the corner of your laptop screen, they widen a bit, now realizing how late it's truly gotten. 
“hey.” you greet happily as his form invades your vision. he’s slumped, shoulders sagging a bit and dark rings have formed around his eyes further creating tender purple lines stemming from them. maybe you had noticed it over the past few days and just not said anything (or maybe your brain truly was beginning to melt into some slushy matter from non stop editing for work) or maybe it was particularly showing today, but chan was starting to look bad again. your heart aches slightly at the sight. 
“hey.” he says quietly, yawning as he makes way to the fridge, eyes filtering over it’s contents and finally reaching for the water bottle he was looking for that took him far too long to notice. “how was your day?” he asks, his eyes melting into a softer gaze as he turns to look at your curled form at your shared kitchen table, cracking the seal on the cap of his bottle. 
“you’re looking at it.” you laugh tiredly, your own gaze finds the mess of a few coffee cups and a couple of breakfast bar wrappers alongside a coffee stained napkin with a pretty brown ring in the middle of it. “nothing too special. i made it to book seven though.” your fingers scroll through your latest progress, knowing full well now that you were coming to a stop for the night. 
“oh wow… seriously? you’ve been at it for that long?” you nod, chan’s lips twinge to the side at the sight of your tired eyes. 
“what about you? what’d you do today?” you ask, making a move to stand to prepare a snack before bed. 
chan sighs deeply, his shoulder bumping into the wall as he makes a sloppy move to lean into it’s surface. he’s slow to start talking about his day, but you listen intently and quietly, giving him all the more room to rant. as you listen, you can’t help but hope that some of the weight on his shoulders is lifted. he talks about pressure from the company, a never ending viciousness of a love-hate relationship. he knows he’s been working extremely hard lately, it feels like more than he’s ever done before, but he can’t bring himself to stop. not when the pressure of performance and appearances weighs too greatly on him. not when fans were waiting for the next schedule, the next comeback, the next taste of artistry. it was the least he could do for them, was share what he loved so greatly. so he’d go above and beyond in providing - even if it meant sacrificing pieces of himself. 
for a moment you think he’s going to cry, which breaks your heart further. your snack is abandoned, instead he has your full undivided attention and and ever softening gaze looking right through him. 
“i don’t know. just feels like i need a big hug right now. that’d help.” he attempts at laughing off his grief, setting his water bottle down on the counter and making a move to grab his discarded work bag. “well,” he slows his movements only by a hair at the sound of your voice. “come here then.” you smile softly. “i could use it too.” 
when he turns around, his eyes are wrinkled handsomely into a soft smile and he waddles over with arms spread. you wrap an arm around his shoulders and another around his waist, embracing him as full as possible. chan goes for a similar movement, his hands softly rubbing at your back as he settles into your embrace. the press of his body against yours is nice, and it was altogether a foreign feeling you wished wasn’t so foreign. chris was your best friend, it was strange you didn’t hug more. 
“y’know we’ve only hugged like 3 times in our entire friendship.” you mutter against the fabric of his hoodie. he laughs, lightly swaying you side to side as he does so. “i was just thinking the same thing actually.” 
“why don’t we hug more this is nice.” you close your eyes for a moment to take in the feeling. the warmth of a friend, the protection you felt from him that you hoped he also felt, and the sleepiness that was washing over you softly. “i don’t know… we should more often.” you can’t see his smile, but you can sure hear it in his gently muffled voice. 
𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴
for the third time in the span of a few hours, you curl further into yourself and hide away neat into the comfort of your bed, and push your hands to your eyes - tears, yet again, beginning to flow freely down the rounds of your cheeks. it’s pitiful, really. you think to yourself. that this is the third time this evening you’re crying and that you can’t manage to scoop yourself up and maintain some level of productivity before calling it a night. but maybe, the small voice in the back of your head reminds, you’re just being a little hard on yourself, and you’re allowed to cry. 
the confines of your bed begin to feel hot, but you can’t bring yourself to get out - instead your head swarms with your grief and intermingles with the heat - creating a dangerous tincture. your mind glosses over the thought of your roommate being able to hear you, in fact you completely disregard the notion. 
a quick few taps at your door bring you to face a little clarity. you sit up slowly with the push of your hand to your mattress, and call out, “yeah?” 
“can i come in?” minho asks, his hand resting on the knob to await your clearance. you confirm, a bit weak, a bit sad, and he bites at his inner cheek as he makes way inside. 
he must’ve just showered; he brings in a clean scent with him and his skin looks nice and glowy. you wipe at your face quickly, huffing out a breath in attempts to stabilize your voice. minho beats you to speaking as he sits on the edge of your bed. “what’s wrong?” he asks softly, looking over your splotchy features with curious eyes. 
“a-ah…” you shake your head, unable to meet his eyes so you instead focus your eyes on your hands and the surface of your comforter. “i know you don’t like comforting people so, you don’t have to worry. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
he drags out his voice, claiming nonsense - which earns him a slight smile from you. “we’re friends, you can tell me.” he assures. 
you sigh once, adjusting your sitting, then proceed to tell him about your most recent falling out with your friend from school. he knew their name well, his face settling into a sort of unimpressed expression from the start; which yet again earns him a smile from you. it wasn’t a great end - a  video sent in explanation of their lack of boundaries that you were tearful through, and years of memories now down the drain. your lip wobbles at the end of it, and your hands focus on fidgeting. 
“i-it just… it makes me really upset.” when tears fall down your cheeks again, his brows melt as does his expression, and he leans up and opens his arms. “come here.” he urges. you shake your head, “no no no, i know you don’t like physical conta-” “it’s okay, just come here.” he smiles gently. 
you swallow, scooting forward on your bed to wrap your arms around his waist, the side of your face resting in the junction of his shoulder and chest. his arms wrap around you and you feel totally enveloped in a kind of odd safety. you’d only hugged minho a handful of times, maybe. and while the feeling was new, it was also refreshing. 
“you’re so warm, you need to take a cool shower. it’s too hot in here.” his hands smooth over your back a few times, and the vibration of his gentle voice lulls you into a newfound peace. his hold is gentle - not tight like some people hugged, just light - but it brought a sense of comfort over you you didn’t expect. 
“i think i can count the number of times we’ve hugged on one hand.” you chuckle, adjusting your cheek against his shoulder, bringing your arms up higher on his waist.
“enjoy it now, you won’t get it again.”
𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴
get home soon, loser. i don’t wanna remind u again that i miss you dude.
of course you do. i’m your funniest friend, i bet you’ve been sooooo bored since i’ve been gone. 
i’m gonna kill you when i see you again, fr. 
then who would you have around to be your funniest hottest bff?
i’ll start taking applications now for ur replacement.
you chuckle a short evil laugh, tossing your phone on your bed as you make way to your bathroom to start your shower. changbin had been gone now for some months on tour, and with busy schedules and time differences, you hadn’t all the time in the world to chat like you used to. but now with them returning, you were planning on surprising him at the dorms when the guys came back from the airport. as a testament to your long glorious friendship, you’d made it a point to remind him of his bestie back home and had sent him flowers to his hotel one night after a concert in vienna - as you tie your hair back you think back fondly to his spam texts of that night. 
you’re quick in the shower, and when you step out, a toothbrush in your cheek and sweatpants pulled on half-hazardly, you hear a ding from your phone and your brow quirks at the sound. 
didn’t know you got a new door mat while i was gone.
your brows furrow at the text - and the speed at which you toss your toothbrush from your cheek and rinse your mouth to bolt towards the door was thoroughly impressive to say the least. “no way no way no way-” you mumble to yourself as you slip on a t-shirt before throwing open your apartment door, seeing changbin in all of his sleepy glory at your door, a face mask pulled to his chin. 
“bin!” you say affectionately, throwing your arms around him tight. “hey!” he greets back, just as happily, lifting you from the ground as his big arms circle your back. you laugh at his antics, holding on as tight as possible, who knew when you’d get the opportunity again?
“when’s the last time we’ve hugged?” you question as he sets you down, your hands come to rest on his upper arms as you both part, his own resting on your upper back. “i don’t remember, just enjoy this will you?” he scolds playfully, squeezing you once more. 
“oh! i got you something.” he pulls away again to reach for a small bouquet of flowers that rest against the wall and floor in the hallway, handing them to you. “payment for vienna.”
𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴
“y’know how lucky you are that i let you drag me here?” your eyes focus on nowhere in particular, washing over the bodies at the party, finding some of the guys intermingled and talking to other artists of the party. while it wasn’t crazy by any means, mostly glamorous what with all the designer clothes and such, it was a social outing nonetheless. you were still very thankful for the invite and opportunity to join the boys at a company party as big as this. “it’s because you love me so much.” hyunjin looks over the rim of his drink, a sassy squinting look shot your way before he takes a sip and runs a hand through his hair. 
your relationship with hyunjin was one that had spanned many years; you still hold onto fond memories of him when you were two little bratty kids, running around in playgrounds and stomping in rain puddles. to an innocent bystander, it seemed as though you might’ve hated each other, but there was a deeper understanding to it all that only you both understood. the constant roasting and bantering was your favorite part of your friendship. it was all in good fun. 
besides, how much could you really complain when you were dressed nice (not out of your own pocket, thanks hyunjin) with a drink in hand and good company. and then the games started. it actuality, they were pretty fun, that was until two hands planted themselves on hyunjin’s back and pushed him into the center of the activities, promptly taking you with him as he grabbed your hand. you make an unceremoniously peeved expression at hyunjin, boy would he get ever the earful after whatever it was you two were about to do. 
“i take back every time i’ve ever said i loved you.” you side whisper to him, to which he rolls his eyes and chuckles behind his hand. “you love me so much what are you saying.”
you’re quickly explained the rules of the round; choosing between a 60 second moment of eye contact or a 6o second embrace. you’re quick to speak up, “i can’t look him in the face. i’ll laugh.” you notice briefly some of the other members laughing quietly. when you turn back to hyunjin he has an abhorrent look on his face, ever the drama queen. “i don’t want to hug you either, though.” he snickers. “i think we have to, come here.” you turn your body to face his, opening your arms for him to walk into. he groans in protest, but wraps his arms around you nonetheless.
you rest your cheek on his shoulder and hold him warmly, sighing into the comfort of the embrace. “when’s the last time we’ve hugged? i can’t remember.” you mutter against the fabric of his button-down. he hums, before resting his chin on your head. “i don’t know, must have been a while ago.” his voice is quiet, almost like you’re the only one who can hear it, it somewhat warms your heart despite the bickering and playful arguing that defined most of your friendship. 
his arms feel somewhere between solid and light around you. not too over encumbering, and not not holding you at all. he’s wearing a light fragrance with a true feminine edge and you’d never admit it to him (you would) but it felt really nice to hold hyunjin and to be held in return. the time is ticking down slowly, you’ve forgotten about the other people in the room for a moment, and when the timer goes off you squeeze him one last time before parting. 
“let’s never do that again.” he smooths his hair, a slight guiding hand on your upper arm to walk back to your spot at the edge of the crowd of people. you flash him a knowing smile, one he returns with ease. “yeah. never again.”
𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴
“dude! you almost had it, c’mon.” you jump giddily in your spot next to han, your hands wrap around the fronts of your calves as you pull your legs in tight. he groans, the agitated tapping of the controller alerts your ears as your eyes stay firmly fixed on the game on the screen. 
han had invited you over for the night to play the newest chapter of a video game, it was highly anticipated, and not just between the both of you but it seemed everyone and their mom’s were playing it at the moment - so naturally you got roped into it too. so far, the first three chapter had been amazing. lots of action, amazing graphics and animation, you were surprised to say the least as it drew in your attention seamlessly. and now here you were, on a friday night beside your best friend watching the newest tales in the story being told. 
“i knoooow,” he drawls, once again taking a potion as his character’s life began to drain from damage. “i can’t get past this part, there’s no way to block him.” he’s regained focus, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he leans a bit more forward with new purpose - a full health bar and the dwindling end of his enemy is beginning to peak over the horizon. 
your mouth rounds into an ‘oh’ like shape, nails digging into your legs as you keep watching. “you got one potion left, you’ll be fine, you got this.” you remain calm, which han is forever grateful for as his hands are starting to get sweaty on the controller with anxiety. 
“oh shit-” he perfected his timing on his character’s block, and in a few hits, the enemy was downed. your arms shoot up, “yes! DUDE i knew you’d do it.” han tosses hs controller to the side, and you both throw yourselves into each other’s arms with comity. han is cheery and excited and pats your back with excitement as you rock back and forth in each other’s arms. 
the excitement cools down as the loading screen for your character plays in the background, and you find yourself in a moment of quick thought in your friends arms. “i can’t even remember the last time we’ve hugged, haha.” you smooth a hand over his back as you both part. “yeah we never really hug, but i’ve never really noticed to be honest.” he snickers behind his hand, picking up the controller once more. “me neither!” 
𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁. ↴
your trembling hands reach blindly for your phone, your vision blurred and focused elsewhere in your bedroom. inside your skull pulsed a mush of ideas, a flurry of thoughts; moving so quickly in and out of your conscious brain that you couldn’t match them, there was no keeping up. there’s a strong tug at the back of your throat, not even swallowing soothed the ache. your vision registers more clearly when your phone vibrates as you mistype your password. you curse under your breath, stabilize the hold on your phone with two hands, and manage to find your texts with somewhat ease. 
there was one person you were looking for, one familiar sunshiney person you could always count on since you were both little. your hands stumble over words in the text you send him. 
hey, i’m not feeling too well rn. could i come over?
your teeth take your thumb nail between them, blood pools in your cuticle as you pick it. 
oh no :( how about i come over instead? i wouldn’t want you driving feeling bad
okay, let me know when you leave and get here. 
it’s soon that your thoughts are interrupted, and you hear the sound of your front door opening. in walks felix with a beanie and a mask on that he tugs to his chin. he calls your name, closing the door behind him quickly and locking it. you peak out from the hallway, forcing yourself to smile when you meet his eyes.
“hey.” you greet, somewhat breathlessly felix notes. he tugs off his beanie and mask, “hey, what’s wrong?”
you turn to walk back to your room, felix follows as he had many times. his presence alone soothes the ever growing unease in you, but still it grows. the anxiety.
“i’m…” you sit on your bed, pulling your sweatshirt down your hands. the godforsaken pull at the back of your throat reemerges, and you feel your eyes gloss over with tears which has felix’s expression melting. “i-i’m trying not to freak out-” your lips tremble into a sort of frown and he immediately reaches for you, murmuring a few gentle comforts to you. “come here, it’s okay.” 
you let him pull you into his arms as your first tears spill over your waterline, wetting your cheeks furiously and heaving sobs from your shoulders. with your face in his shoulder, your own arms around his back, you close your eyes and try desperately hard to focus on the feeling of felix holding you. the feeling of his voice close to your ear, the feeling of his chest rumbling as he speaks, the warmth of his hands on your back and head, and the gentle rock of his arms. soon your tears are stilled and dried, and you rub at his back to part from him to which he agrees, pushing your hair over your shoulders. 
“when i think about it, we’ve only hugged a handful of times in our friendship, can you believe that?” it’s an attempt to lighten the mood and distract you from the anxiety you’ve now trained to keep at arm’s length. 
“i was thinking the same thing too, actually. but you give such good hugs and you’re very affectionate, i don’t know why i don’t hug you more.” you wipe your face with your sleeve, leaving red blotchy skin in your wake. he frowns at the sight of your sadness and panic, and pulls at your arms to bring you in to hold you once more. 
𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓶𝓲𝓷.↴
sleepovers with seungmin always ended up stretching over the course of a few days; not on purpose, it just always ended up that way. now with his break in schedules, he had all the free time in the world for you to annoy him - and annoy him you’d succeed in. it’d been a few hours since he stepped through the threshold of your apartment, but you were already planning on your friday night plans spanning the entire weekend. 
he kept himself busy in your kitchen, promising to make quick work of dinner as you shuffled through your most recent liked songs, your chin resting in your hand as you waited for him to finish. 
“it smells yummy.” your eyes still remain fixed on your phone screen. he hums quietly in agreeance. 
it was too peaceful - and you of course always had to keep seungmin on his toes. you place your phone face down on the counter top, looking at him suddenly. you had to be sneaky of course, something unsuspecting, but enough to get the reaction you wanted. you pull your lips to the side in thought. 
his back was turned to you, a billowing stream of steam wafted off the pan he was cooking in. he had his sleeves pushed to his elbows and occasionally parted from the stove to wash his hands off or chop away on your cutting board. you smile to yourself as your plan blossoms. not that it was anything crazy, but just something to tick him off a bit. 
you stand, remaining diligent in making your footsteps quiet. you eye his movements, positive he’ll be staying at the stove for a moment as you approach him slowly. you smile to yourself one last time before raising your arms and winding them around his middle, pressing your cheek to the center of his back. 
immediately you’re met with a long drawn out groan, which only makes you squeeze him tighter, swaying him side to side as you chuckle against him. “whyy?” he asks you, his arms lifted a bit so as to not touch you. you press yourself closer by his slim waist, admiring the feeling of his warmth and the softness of his sweatshirt. “you’re just so huggable, i don’t know what you want from me. and-!” you continue, voice an octave harder as the realization hits you. “when’s the last time you’ve let me hug you? it’s been years!” 
he shakes his head, grabbing a bell pepper from the cutting board to chew on. “it has not been years.” he assures. “mmm pretty sure it has been.”
you remain connected to his waist, only hugging firmer as you enjoy the feeling of your friend in your arms. he groans again, but this time it’s followed with a short chuckle. “let me go.” you shake your head. “what’s in it for me? you’re so huggable i don’t think you realize.” he hums, trying weakly to pry your arms from him, but you persist and only hold him tighter to you. 
“i’ll let you hug me when we watch the movie.”
you break your arms from around his middle and look at him incredulously. “really? deal.”
he keeps up his end of the bargain, after dinner you start up your tv and after seungmin sits down on your couch, you plop down next to him and lean your head on his shoulder, his arm coming to circle you lightly. you only see it for a split second, but as the movie starts you look up to seungmin and see him smiling ever so slightly. 
𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷.↴
“that’s my yang jeongin!” you yell from the barricade of the guest section. jeongin had invited to fly you out to seattle for a concert stop right in the middle of the tour; having been friends for so long he knew he wouldn’t see you for a while on this stretch of tour dates and invited you to come see him so you wouldn’t miss him as bad (as he worded it) though it’d been a few years since you’d seen him perform last, you knew a great deal of his talent and knew he was nothing short of the best of the best and agreed for a little weekend getaway. 
the performance exceeded your expectations on all levels - his stage presence was insane. you knew he was talented but hadn’t any idea of just how stunning he truly had grown to be. “go best friend!” you shouted again. 
when the concert concluded, the boys were quickly whisked away to the hotel to rest up - jeongin was keeping in touch with you the entire time, letting you know management would meet with you in the lobby before being sent up to his room. you followed suit, stopping at a korean restaurant on the way over. 
you did so good! i was amazed, i’m stopping somewhere first before i come by.
ah, thank you, what are you getting?
surprise hehe >:)
oh no
you met up with management and let them check over your bags and the food you’d gotten for the both of you and were quickly sent up, pulling your hat down further on your face as you did so. with a knock at the door, jeongin stands from his bed and make way to it - smiling when he saw you. “hey, you did so good! the concert was insane.” you walk in when he lets you pass him and you set your stuff down on the table across his bed. 
“thank you~” he grins, cheeks a bit pink and eyes wrinkled handsomely.
“come here, i’m so proud of you.” you open your arms wide, taking a few steps closer as he unwillingly opens his arms for you and lets you hug him as hard as you wanted. “i know you hate this but you have to let me hug you, i missed you.” 
you always knew jeongin to be not the touchiest. he always strayed away from your hand holding and hugs as a kid, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss you, and his heart feels full and warm to hear you say such meaningful things. so he indulges, not just or you, but for him too. his arms are fully around your shoulders, his lips pulled into a tight smile as he rests his cheek on your head. 
“i missed you too. did you see me mess up?” he snickers. when you pull away you rest your hands on his waist for a moment. “you messed up? i really couldn’t tell.” 
“good.” 
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is this good? i have no idea, i haven't written for all of the guys yet so some of these might not be the best? lmk.
803 notes · View notes
farfromstrange · 2 months
Text
I Want To Fuck A Priest | Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader
PART 6 of The Vault
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See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader
Summary: You have a thing for the priest you met at a farmer's market. Thankfully, he has a thing for you, too.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), porn without much plot, Priest!Matt, blasphemy (!!!), church setting, improper use of a priest's collar, improper use of a confessional booth, improper use of the act of confession, praise, prayer, oral afab!receiving, slight Dom!Matt, Catholic guilt, Fleabag reference, seriously if you are religious or triggered by the improper use of religion DO NOT read this!
Word Count: 2.8k
A/n: This is for those who watched Fleabag and then saw all the 'Imagine Matt as a priest' and 'Charlie Cox once played a Spanish priest' posts and thought, "Same!" when Fleabag said, "I want to fuck a priest." I see you, and I feel you. I wrote this after re-watching Fleabag one night, but I added a little poetic twist while editing because before, it was just completely plotless oral sex. While that isn't bad, I needed to add some vibes. You're welcome.
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Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
The church bells ring as the clock strikes midnight. The night sky is void of dark clouds. In the darkness above the massive walls encasing the holy ground, the stars shine brighter than the city lights. New York City, the city that never sleeps, makes an exception for the house of God in the dead of the night, it seems.
It’s been…several years since my last confession. 
The graveyard attached to the church looks threatening in its vacancy. It’s void of human souls except for the dead ones buried there. A raven claps its wings in the distance, following the gush of wind that brushes through the trees. 
The bell rings twelve times before it stops, but the echo bounces off the stone walls and shakes the stained-glass windows, which seems to drag on for an eternity. 
The last time I confessed my sins was before my communion. I don’t know if that makes me a bad Catholic, but lately, I’ve been having sinful thoughts, and I need to get them out of the way before I collapse under the weight of them.
You considered for the longest time whether or not you should come here. Faith has been your enemy for the longest time. You don’t believe in the Catholic Church, and yet you have found your way here, in the middle of the night, when everyone should be asleep in their beds. 
This isn’t a normal night, by any means. You often lay awake at night and question your purpose in this life, but lately, you’ve been feeling like you’re drowning. Sins are subjective, and you never paid much mind to the term until now. 
The thoughts you find yourself having late at night when you’re awake and lonely are far from holy. They aren’t ideal. They make you wonder just why you are thinking this way now.
But no man has ever been like him. And the worst part about it is that wanting him alone is an unholy train of thought you should have never submitted to. 
You tried ignoring it, carrying it all by yourself, and trying to heal whatever complex you may have that could have led to this obsession in the first place, but your life has been a mess for long enough that it doesn’t even surprise you anymore, and no matter what you tried to do, you couldn’t stop fantasizing about him.
He is the reason you came to church tonight to confess your sins. But you’re not here to find your way. You’re not here to ask for guidance from God. You told yourself that the unholiness of your thoughts needs to be cured and that is why you came here—to make this situation better for yourself—but the thought is ancient; it’s the twenty-first century and you’re the kind of person who knows exactly what they want and how to get it. The truth is, you’re here to get what you want, even if it will land you in the pits of hell for all eternity. And even if it kills you.
“You don’t do this kind of thing often, do you?” the low voice asks from the other side of the confessional booth.
You shake your head. “Not at all, Father. When I went to Sunday Mass this weekend, it was my first time in a church in a very long time,” you admit to him, “and this is my first confession since I was a child. I…I’m not really a devoted Catholic, you understand. I’m merely struggling right now, and I…I am in desperate need of guidance.”
Your lip quivers. Your voice resembles a tidal wave that comes and goes as nature pleases.
He can’t see you. It’s not the curtain that is separating you and is starting to feel like worlds apart—he can’t see you. He can only hear and smell you, and that alone makes your thighs clench with need. 
Should you be doing this in a church? Should you fantasize about a man of God and want to claim him, coming to his sanctuary to tell him the truth and mess with his head? You know that it’s wrong, but the wrong thing often feels too right to stop. 
When you met him at the farmer’s market the other day, he was so endlessly kind to everyone, including yourself. He invited you to Sunday mass, and you went. You went on a walk with him afterward, and there seemed to be something there, but he couldn’t act on it because he is who he is and what he is. He made a vow. He can’t have you, no matter how badly he wants to, and one look into his unfocused hazel eyes when he took off those red glasses he always wears told you that he does want you. It led to another sleepless night among many, and now you’re here.
You’re so utterly selfish, but God, you can’t stop it. When you want something, you would do anything to get it. He makes you feel things you never felt before. It’s terrifying, but you have to allow yourself to jump into unknown waters if you want to learn how to swim.
He clears his throat, and you can hear the chair creak under his weight as he shifts. Is it possible that you’re doing the same to him that he is doing to you?
“I want to start by saying that you’re really brave,” he says. The sound of his voice is enough to make you shiver. “But God offers people guidance in a symbolic sense. I can take your confession, tell you how to repent for your sins, but I can’t tell you what to do.”
You sigh. “I wish you would though.”
A chuckle passes his lips. “Why don’t you start by telling me what’s weighing you down, sweetheart, and we will go from there?”
Sweetheart. 
Yes, you think, this is your one-way ticket to hell. 
“I’ve been having thoughts,” you confess.
“Thoughts?” he asks.
“Yes. Unholy thoughts.” Your breath comes in weak puffs of air. The booth seems to cave in on you. You wish he would step out of his booth into yours and stuff his cock into your mouth. For him, you would shut up. You would do whatever he tells you to do, and you would do so gladly.
Fuck. You want to fuck a priest. 
But lucky for you, Father Matthew wants to fuck you too. He’s here, at midnight, because you were lost and he was still there—he told you he spends his nights at church sometimes because the city gets too loud for him. You couldn’t go anywhere else because any place where he isn’t doesn’t seem worth visiting.
Matt sucks in a sharp breath. You imagine him swallowing, his white collar constricting his labored airflow. You imagine him pulling at it to free himself, but he can’t. Those sinfully thick fingers of his would feel even better on your skin. 
“Unholy thoughts,” Father Matthew asks, “about whom, sweetheart?”
He’s pushing your buttons with that nickname. It’s so not professional. The lines are starting to blur.
“A man,” you tell him. 
“A man?”
“A man of God.”
The confession causes a bout of silence. You could have heard a hairpin drop. 
His chair creaks again, and his voice reminds you of an animalistic growl right before an apex predator attacks its prey. “And what unholy thoughts have you been having about this man of God?” he inquires.
Your inner walls clench around thin air. Sweat drips down your temples, and the arousal soaks your underwear. Your nipples strain against your shirt. If you grip the seat any harder, you will soon find wooden chips under your nails.
You lick your lips. “I’ve been thinking about him touching me,” you whisper. “And I want to touch him.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“And in your thoughts, does he satisfy you?”
Your answer comes promptly, “Always.”
There is not a scenario in which Father Matthew could possibly leave you unsatisfied. 
The chair creaks again. Something in the air shifts. 
Your voice is breathless and needy, and so fucking desperate when you speak into the silence, “Just tell me what to do, Father.”
“Okay,” he says. His leather shoes drag across the floor of the booth and toward the curtain that marks the exit of his side. The next word out of his mouth knocks all the air out of your lungs, “Kneel.”
You don’t even have time to question his request. Within seconds, the curtain through which you’ve stepped into the confessional booth is torn to the side, and there he is, in all of his glory, right in front of you, and his thick cock is straining against his black slacks.
You pinch yourself, but you’re not dreaming. This is real. This is what you wanted, and you weren’t imagining the mutual attraction due to delusions. He does want you, and he is about to break every rule in his book—and the lord’s book.
You sink to your knees. The only thing you can see on his face is pure, unbridled lust and the ugly truth of Catholic guilt. He must loathe himself for wanting you. 
Matt removes his glasses, revealing his beautiful eyes to you. In the dim candlelight, they appear almost black.
“What’s my sentence, Father?” you ask.
His hand brushes your cheek. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he breathes.
“I’m sorry, Father.”
“No.” He steps into the booth and closes the curtain behind him. “Tonight, call me Matt.”
That is the last thing he says before he gets on his knees before you, and he captures your lips in a bruising kiss that is strong enough to make the angels howl.
His hand rests around your throat, feeling your pulse. He may not be able to see you with his eyes, but the way he touches you paints a perfect picture of your presence, and you feel every last ounce of his devotion. 
He explores the depth of your mouth with his tongue, tasting you, loving you. His hands feel beautifully rough against your skin, just like you imagined they would be after years of praying. He sees himself as the hands of God. A messenger. His goodness makes your heart swell and your core flood with more than unbridled arousal—this is human nature in all its emotional glory, and you no longer feel ashamed. You can’t possibly when he is holding you like this.
He exhales into your mouth—no, he breathes life into your soul. “You’re the most sinful yet purest thing I have ever laid my hands on,” Matt says.
You gasp against his luscious lips. “I wouldn’t want to make you turn your back on God, or–”
He cuts you off, “I did that when I first thought about your body on mine and coming so deep inside of you that you’ll carry me with you for days. I don’t care about God because if having him means that I can’t have you,” he says, “I don’t want him anymore.”
You swallow his words with a kiss. Turning a priest against God was never your intention, but you are not in charge of his feelings, nor will you ever be. Matt wants you badly enough to abandon religion, and you will carry that with you until the day you die. 
He lifts you back onto the edge of the wooden chair, pulling at your clothes and your undergarments. The moonlight hits his face as the cold air of the church hits your bare pussy. He looks ethereal like this, on his knees for you. His hazel eyes bore into your soul. He wears his heart on his sleeves and a collar around his neck. 
Your priest crosses his chest. He asks God for forgiveness. And then, with one gentle tug at your thighs, he buries his face in your wet cunt, and he feasts as if your sex was the last supper. As God’s disciple, he is determined to eat up every last bite offered to him. Every last drop from your cunt is his, and your lips part in a moan that echoes through the church like the bells did when it hit midnight.
“Fuck,” you cry out. 
He flattens his tongue against you, licking a long stripe over and then through your folds. He twirls the tip of his tongue over your clit, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves with such precision, your walls clench at the sheer explosion of pleasure. You have never felt anything like it. He turns something unholy into heaven, and you’re drowning in the river to the Garden of Eden.
His lips suction around your clit. The obscene squelching of your velvety walls fills the booth. It sounds deadly noisy to you. You want to cover your mouth to stop the moans from traveling, but he traps your hand with his, guiding them to his hand, telling you to guide him.  
Instead, one of your hands moves to his collar. It’s his turn to moan. You tug at the symbol of his priesthood, forcing his tongue deeper into your hole. He laps up your juices as though his life depends on it. 
“Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned,” Matt murmurs against you. 
You moan again, louder this time. He is repenting for wanting to dive into your pussy until he gets swept away by the tide, but it is far too late to back out now. Your pleasure has become his priority. 
“Lord God,” he repeats, “in your goodness have mercy on me.”
The pleasure is turning into a tight knot in your lower abdomen. You can feel it consuming you and your senses. You’re floating. The light at the end of the tunnel is not so far out of reach anymore. Every suck and every lick at your folds, and every thrust of his tongue into your tight walls pushes you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. 
In your goodness, have mercy on me. 
He bites down lightly on your clit. Your toes curl, and his name comes out in a groan.
Do not look on my sins, but take away all my guilt. 
Right now, you are his God. By drinking your arousal like holy water and pushing you toward an orgasm he is repenting. The symbolism makes your heels dig into his back as you buck your hips against his mouth, and when he adds one of those thick fingers, curling them up against that sweet spot inside of you, you can barely stand it anymore.
Create me in a clean heart and renew within me an upright spirit.
“God, Matthew!” your moan interrupts his plea for penance only briefly.
He swats your thigh. “No blasphemy when I feast at the altar,” he says. The vibration of his voice adds to the knot, tightening it, and threatening it to burst.
You’re almost there. Almost…
“Have mercy on me, a sinner,” he continues. His tongue slides between your folds once again, gathering your slit. His fingers curl upward again. He’s mixing different prayers, or maybe these are his own words, but you are not sure how much longer you can hold it. But he wants you to hold it. You don’t want to disappoint the man who is worshiping at your feet, your pussy, his altar, and you are his salvation as much as you are his saving grace.
“In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,” he prays, “I have sinned against You whom I should love above all things—but fuck, I don’t.” 
Does that mean he loves you? It is too soon to tell that, but he is devoted, and devotion can be just as sinfully sweet as the rawest feeling of love.
“Have mercy on me, God. Amen!”
His collar is starting to tear under your vice grip. 
Matt thrusts his digit into you until it disappears, and he finally decides to show the mercy he was begging for to you. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he says. 
Your thighs lock around his head as the knot breaks in two. You come, hard, and the wave tears him down with you, shooting his cum into his slacks like the good Catholic boy he is.
You let go of his collar when your orgasm has done its damage. 
“No,” he stops you. 
“No?” you ask, still breathless.
“No,” he says, lifting his head to grin at you, not like a man of God but the Devil himself. “I have not done nearly enough penance.”
As a priest, Matt is used to being on his knees until they’re bruised; until he can’t stand straight anymore, so he has to remain there, cowering before a God he more often than not does not believe in.
Before you can protest, he dives back into your endless ocean, and you have no choice but to lean back and take it. 
He is not the only one doing penance tonight, after all—you both are. 
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Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama
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leafostuff · 2 months
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A Tent for the two of us [FT. Weeekly Jihan]
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tags: Fluff, huddle for warmth, classmates to lovers Words: 2.8K Author's Note: Shoutout to @octoberautumnbox, @libraryoferos and @4m1rz For Beta reading and Editing this lovely piece, I hope you will all enjoy reading this fic like I enjoyed writing this fic.
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You have to admit: you don't get the charm behind camping.
Like seriously, what is the fun of going to a forest in the middle of nowhere, having no normal food, and no reception, to add salt to the injury you have to suffer this experience with your school, which already is a pain in itself since you’re not the most popular guy in school, 
And that is not even the worst part…
“What do you mean you didn't bring a tent??” your teacher asked, her eyes looking at you with an aura of annoyance.
Even after telling your parents about the trip 2 months in advance, reminding them almost daily 2 weeks before the trip, the only thing you were able to get was a sleeping bag and a rolling mattress. However, it's not like you could have blamed them, they were so busy you are surprised that they even had the time to make you a bag for the camping trip in the first place.
“My parents thought I wouldn't need it, since we are sleeping inside a building” You tried to explain your parent’s very questionable logic, feeling your teacher's face palming inside her mind.
“For the second day! On the first day, we are sleeping in tents. Weren't they present in the Zoom meeting about the trip?” She answered and asked simultaneously. You knew your parents didn't have the time to join the Zoom meeting so you had to join the meeting on mute and with no camera.
“If it's not a problem Ms. Lee, I can sleep without a tent, my parents got me a sleeping bag and a matres-” you tried explaining as your teacher stopped you again.
“No no no no, I can't take responsibility for you, doing something like this, you can get a cold from sleeping outside,” she said, taking a deep sigh and rubbing her temples with both hands; Your situation was indeed a challenge for her to figure out. “Did you talk with any of the boys? Maybe they could share their tent with you?” she asked.
“I already asked them, and all of their tents are either too small to have two or they are already two inside of a tent,” you explain as another sigh comes from your teacher. It was already close to the lights-out hour and you didn’t have a place to sleep in, as the desperation of Ms. Lee was at its peak.
“Good night, Ms. Lee,” a girly voice was heard from behind you, looking back you see Han Jihyo, one of your classmates going toward her tent, she was already ready for sleep with her pink coloured pyjamas, but as she passed near both of you her smile turned into a worried look.
“Is everything ok? Did something happen?” the girl asked, walking near you as she joined you and your teacher’s conversation.
“Well Seungkwan forgot a tent for the trip, so he doesn't have somewhere to sleep for the first night,” Ms. Lee explained, “Right now we are trying to think of ideas of where he could sleep that won't get him sick.”
“Oh, if this is the problem, I could let you sleep in my tent Seungkwan, it has enough space for someone else besides me” Jihan exclaimed, smiling brightly. However, both you and your teacher reacted very differently to what your classmate expected.
“No no no, I can't let this happen” Ms Lee stopped Jihyo, already throwing her idea to the pretend trash can. “I can't let a boy and a girl sleep in the same tent,” she added as you were quick to join on your teacher’s side.
“Oh come on, look at me: I am wearing full pyjamas, so he won't see any private parts of my body,” she exclaimed. “And besides, I don't mind sharing a tent with a guy,” she added, reassuring your teacher.
“I agree with Ms Lee, Jihyo” You added. Your face heated from the idea “What if someone else finds me sleeping in your tent? I would be called a pervert!” you added.
“Well my tent is not close to the other girls’ tents, so they won't know you are here,” she counters your argument without any hesitation, determined to let you sleep at her tent, “And besides Ms. Lee, this is the best solution we have right now,” she added.
A minute of silence, your teacher is thinking about everything meanwhile many questions run through your head: Why is she helping you? You both never really talked at all during the school year, so offering help is very suspicious of her. You look into Jihyo’s eyes, feeling the warmth in them as you feel a bit less uncomfortable with her idea.
A loud sigh finally comes from Ms Lee as in heavy defeat she says: “Okay, Seungkwan can sleep in your tent” In reaction to this your face turned surprised while Jihyo’s face brightened up. “go bring your stuff so you can get ready to sleep, it's already lights out time” Ms Lee added as you walked toward your bags.
“Well, I guess this is happening, might as well make the most out of it”  you think to yourself, but you can’t help but notice your mouth forms a weak smile. Were you happy that she let you sleep in her tent?
~-~-~-~
Well… Jihyo’s tent was as big as she said it was.
Scratch that, it might as well be a family-sized tent with how spacious it was, having enough space for a family of 5 to comfortably rest there. “See? I told you it wasn’t a problem of space for me,” she exclaimed, a cute grin forming on her face.
“Wow, do your parents own HYBE or something?” you jokingly ask while the girl casually laughs at your comment.
“Heh, they might as well do, well let's get in, we should head to sleep,” she said as she entered as you followed her, grabbing your baggage and dragging it inside.
“So” She says through a small yawn “This is your side, you can put your bag here” Jihyo said, pointing toward the left side of the tent you obliged, letting your bag fall to let you get out your sleeping bag and mattress. “By the way, my parents brought me a big one so we can both sleep in the same one,” she added.
“It's okay, I have my mattress,” you said while getting the sleeping bag out, now attempting to take the mattress out of your bag. “I'm not that stupid to forget that” you add, looking into your bag to try and get out your mattress, after a while, you finally manage to lay your mattress out. However, when Jihyo scans it she simply shakes her head in disappointment.
“Yeah right, I'm not letting you go to sleep with that mattress, it's too thin” she explained as she leaned her hand in to take the mattress of your hand, but her hand accidentally touched yours, her entire body suddenly stiffened as she feels like she touched the inside of a freezer.
“OH GOD! And you are already so cold,” she added as she shook her hand, trying to let it get some warmth from the movement. “There is NO CHANCE you are sleeping on your mattress, you are sleeping on mine and this is final!” she adds. You realize that you do not have any way of avoiding sleeping her way, so you sigh in a sign of giving up, laying yourself on her mattress.
The first thing you feel is how surprisingly soft this mattress feels, as if a herd of sheep voluntarily shaved their wool to donate it to the mattress.
“You see? My mattress is 20 times more comfortable than yours.” She giggled, seeing how you gave in to the softness while joining you on the mattress, however instead of a sleeping bag she pulled up her blanket, covering herself around it swiftly and her eyes turned themself toward you while a weak smile was forming on her face. Feeling puzzled you ask:
“What?”
“Heh, it's nothing, it's just…we never really talked before, have we? I think we are also in the same class, however, we never really spoke before…and here you are, in the same tent as me,” she explained.
“I mean yeah, I am not sitting” a Yawn takes over your voice. “close to you in any of the classes we share, so I guess we never really had the chance to talk,” you reply, trying your best not to fall asleep. “Are you not tired? It's like 11:30 PM,” you add, yawning as you get inside your sleeping bag while turning your head to the tent’s roof.
“Not really, like I'm like sleepy, but not…Sleepy, you know what I mean?” You could simply shake your head in confusion as Jihyo continued. “Like I'm not gonna fall asleep as soon as I close my eyes,” she explained.
“Well I do, and I'm gonna try to get some sleep because I doubt I could get sleep on the bus tomorrow,” you explain, remembering how earlier today during the ride you could hear the rest of your class (including Jihyo) talking and singing so loud you couldn't get even a second in peace.
“Oh…well good night,” she says, her tone still upbeat despite the tiredness filling her face as Jihyo simply turned her head to the other side, laying on her mattress as you copy her, trying to get sleep. However, as much as you wanted the tiredness to take over your body and let you fall asleep, another feeling has captured your body instead.
“Fuck…so cold” you internalize your thoughts, covering yourself with the sleeping bag. But the cold goes through, making you shiver lightly. Way to go to the student council that decided to plan the school trip in the middle of winter,. If this trip was 2 months from today the entire school would be much happier.
Suddenly you can feel movement in the mattress; as you turn your head to see what is going on, you see your tentmate going through her backpack, looking annoyed. After a minute or so she finally finds what she is looking for. “Have this.”
The girl throws something at you, as you pick it up you see it read the word “heat pack.” “Everyone probably can hear you freezing. You should warm yourself,” Jihyo adds.
“Uhh thanks, but I don't think it’s necces-”
“No buts,” she interrupts, giving you a light smack on your head with the heat pack, “you are going to sleep with the heat pack, end of the argument,” she retorts, but even her angry face is followed with a pout that can only be described as cute, not being able to help yourself but slightly blush.
You sigh, “OK, thank you.” 
“You're welcome, now let's get some sleep,” she says, turning her head again and going back to sleep. You manage to do the same for a second or two, but now you can't help but think about the situation, realizing how the girl didn’t object that hard into sharing a tent with you, especially when you two are a boy and a girl, sleeping together in the same place.
If it wasn't for Jihyo, you would also have to sleep outside in the cold. Deep inside you were hoping someone would help you get a place to sleep in, even though on the outside you were adamant about sleeping outside, so in a sense you can say that she saved your trip by keeping you from getting sick.
In a sense she saved you.
“I do need to be thankful, right?” you rhetorically ask yourself, sighing as you slowly turn yourself. However, instead of seeing a sleeping Jihyo near you, she was fully awake, looking into your eyes.
“Can't sleep as well?” she faintly asks, and surprised by her being awake you find yourself moving backward.
“Yeah…” you simply whisper as you move closer to her again, your eyes looking at the ceiling of the tent, an awkward silence is forming between you two for a good 10 seconds or so, but it comes to an end as you mutter:
“I just wanted to say thank you…for like…you know…” Your cheeks turn a small shade of pink, slowly heating up, Jihyo in the meanwhile can't help but smile at your shyness.
“I know?” she asks, obvious that she was acting like she didn't know what you want to say You simply just take a deep breath and continue talking, throwing the awkwardness to the side.
“Thank you for letting me sleep in your tent.” You muster up the courage to say those words to your tentmate, your eyes magnetically find themself looking at hers. “And sorry if I was so against the idea before.”
“Oh it's ok Oppa, it's what friends do.” Her right-hand finds itself on your shoulder while her eyes join her mouth in forming a smile that might as well replace the heaters around your camping site, you can't help but slowly smile at her ba-.
“Wait did Jihyo just call you oppa?”  you now realize how she was calling you as your face completely turns red, you have watched enough dramas to know what happens when a girl calls a guy Oppa
It was hard for you to deny that during the school year, you both were in the same class, so it wasn't hard for to form a small crush on Jihyo. While at first, you were pretty sure that you just liked her as a friend and nothing more, as time passed you couldn't help yourself but think about her: when you were trying to listen in class, during your video game sessions where you were hyper-focused on the game (Maybe that is why you always found yourself losing focus suddenly) and to when you were ready to close your eyes.
This serene moment of both of you looking into each other's eyes finally stops when she speaks, breaking the silence in half.
“Are you still cold Oppa?” she asked, looking at the heat pack she gave you. Touching it with your finger, you could feel how it isn’t warm anymore, you can't seem to recall how much time has passed since she gave you that heat pack.
“A little bit, yeah…” you answer. “Do you have another heat pack by chance?” you ask, but in response, your tentmate shakes her head. “No this was the only one I had,” she explains You can't help but sigh, but Jihyo’s words come next manage to catch you off guard.
“I…do have another way of warming up,” she says timidly. Although it's hard to see in the dark, you seem to notice that her cheeks are painted in a red blush, and it only takes you about 5 seconds or so to finally do the 2+2 in your mind as you can't help but mentally facepalm yourself.
“Only if it’s okay by you, I don't want to make you uncomfortable” she adds, you could feel the fluster in her voice. Even though you could feel yourself getting awkward more and more after she suggested that idea, you manage to say:
“It's okay…you can go ahead” you mutter, loud enough for her to hear you. It's almost impossible not to feel a bit warmer just by the smile of the girl near you, making you do the same.
“Okay, I will need you to come closer” she explains as you oblige, nudging close toward her enough that there is close to no space between the both of you. You can feel how her arms slowly but surely wrap around your body, you simply let yourself fall into her embrace, putting your hands around her back as well as you are now essentially cuddling together.
“Is it better?” she whispers to you, nodding in response. “Great” she yawned quietly. “mmm… you don't mind if I…” She closes her eyes and you feel the left side of the face resting itself on your chest. You could feel how soft her cheeks were as if there were giant marshmallows with how fluffy they were.
You giggle slightly at how cute Jihyo looks in your arms; when she was speaking to you before she looked confident, but now you can feel how deep inside when you know her she just becomes a soft, precious being, something that you must protect.
It's hard for you to stay awake so slowly you start closing your eyes as well, but before you fall fully asleep you mutter some words that you had no control over, in reaction your tentmate seems to giggle cutely.
“Hehe…I like you too oppa,” she says as well, eyes still closed as you both finally fall asleep, letting yourself get lost in your dreams, but in the newfound warmth of each other.
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Wow, a long Jihan fic...i am very proud of it, i hope you enjoyed reading this fic, again feel free to send asks in the Inbox.
I will see you all next time Leafies
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50 Things I'm Convinced Taylor & Travis Do - End Game Edition 🏈❤️‍🩹🍂
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Yes, I have tried being normal about this relationship. No, it didn't work. Don't take this too seriously. Just a little bit of fluff on this cold Sunday 🥹📚
Taylor sending Donna selfies of herself with Travis with the caption ��we miss you!"
Travis walking around her house with Olivia on his arm going “she’s my favorite. now i know, she’s my favorite.”
Travis saying “You too” when the flight attendant on Taylor's jet tells him to enjoy the flight
Travis buying Taylor cough drops at the airport because there’s 13 inside, and the flavour reminded him of her
Taylor not being able to watch old The Voice Kids episodes anymore because it breaks her heart when the kids cry when they’re sent home.
Travis randomly ordering her lunch from a local sandwich shop whilst she’s rehearsing because he knows she forgets to eat and then gets lightheaded 
Taylor being used to a random sandwich and a diet coke being passed to her by her team and not even asking whose idea it was for her to take a quick lunch break 
Travis finding a note in Taylor’s phone from July with all his green and red flags listed, and quickly noticing that the red flags column only consists of “psychopath: eats pineapple on pizza"
Travis always folding his clothes neatly together whilst being in his own little world when unpacking his suitcase 
Travis texting Taylor to ask what her room service coffee order is whilst she’s in bed next to him talking to Tree on the phone 
Taylor waking up at night to Travis being unable to sleep and him murmuring “I just realized Donkey Kong is bullshit. He’s a gorilla, not a donkey. Our kids won’t play that game, it’s just too confusing.”
Travis never leaving the house without a pack of gum or mints in his pocket
Taylor grinding her teeth at night and Travis gently waking her up whenever she’s doing it with her face pressed against his chest, reminding her to wear her Invisaligns, and her replying with a tired “thanks, baby” before opening her mouth to put them in half asleep
Taylor being silly and placing her index finger on his nose whenever he naps, asking him to say “oink” 
Travis wanting Taylor to get a dog and naming it “Donut”
Travis having a favorite pen and not letting Taylor touch it 
Taylor asking Travis to run his hands through her hair when she’s too restless to fall asleep after the show 
Travis always waking Taylor up if she decides to sleep past 3pm and peppering her face with kisses 
Scott refusing to call Travis any other name than “Trav” 
Taylor occasionally asking Travis to hold her hand when she’s got trouble falling asleep and feels anxiety rising in her chest 
When Taylor moves away from him in the middle of the night, Travis always wakes up and pulls her back to him, mumbling “Where do you think you’re going, get back here,” with his eyes still closed
Whenever they haven’t seen each other in a few days, Taylor asking Travis if it’s okay for him to share his pillow with her as she feels too far away from him on her side of the bed
Travis kissing the pad of her thumb whenever her hands are on his face as the sun rises 
Taylor mumbling “stop being so hot” whenever he flips his pillow to the cool side at night
Taylor before shows always promising Travis that she’s fine and no, she doesn’t want to talk about it, even though he knows minutes later she’ll be spilling her guts, listing off everything that could go wrong.
Travis always explaining to Taylor that his clothes need “a pop of color” and “a pop of swag” because “no one can be sad with a pop of color and some swag”
Taylor squeezing his bum when he walks by the bed to charge his phone, and her mumbling “tight end” 
Travis always sending dozens of picture into the group chat with Taylor’s family, making sure to take a picture of any eras tour movie banner he sees, every Taylor Swift mention at the airport, even sending them selfies of himself with a picture of her on the cover of some trashy magazine 
Travis always being the last one to sit down at the table whenever they go out to dinner with her family as he doesn’t want to intrude
Scott texting Travis the latest NFL odds and Travis pretending like he didn’t know and thanking Scott for the update 
Travis always noticing when Taylor gets nervous, because her chest starts heaving and she starts picking her finger nails whilst she’s in the car, which he always stops by grabbing her hand and leading it to his mouth to give each finger a gentle little kiss 
Taylor always apologizing to Travis whenever there’s fans screaming as soon as they see the two together 
Travis dancing around the hotel room in his boxers singing “Olé Olé Olé Taylor” whenever she doesn’t want to get up for her flight in the morning 
Taylor not struggling to fall asleep or doze off in his arms at all, because she’s never felt safer with anyone, no matter where she is: bathtub, airplane, car seat, sun bed, couch, hotel bed, whirl pool, dinner chair.
Travis thanking Scott and Andrea for doing the dirty thirty-four years ago and Taylor hitting him hard on her birthday 
Taylor having a note on her phone with baby names that start with a "T"
Taylor sometimes secretly wishing she’d never had written a love song for anyone before Travis 
Travis just randomly staring at Taylor whenever she speaks and her not noticing, but Andrea just smiling at him quietly 
Travis always asking Taylor to say “three thin thieves” whenever she’s wearing her Invisaligns in bed, and him dying laughing every time 
Travis being able to sense whenever Taylor is about to get emotional or upset over something, and his left hand automatically wandering to her lower back, and the other one to her right hand because he can't stand any space between them when she needs him.
Taylor waking up sweaty at night from a nightmare, and Travis pulling her closer with his eyes still closed going “I got you. I got you, baby.”
Taylor asking Travis to turn up the TV real loud when she’s going to the hotel bathroom in the morning and him overdoing it so that they both end up yelling at each other to communicate through the noise 
Travis whispering a low “oh, i love you so much” whenever Taylor turns around at night and opens her eyes confusedly for a second 
Travis claiming the little curly strand of hair on her bangs “his” whenever she’s sweaty after her show 
Taylor laughing while answering emails in bed because she hears Travis singing “big reputation, big reputation” over and over again in the shower and it sounds absolutely horrible
Travis watching her perform and just shaking his head over and over again because he can’t believe how talented the woman who he wakes up next to every day really is. 
Taylor and Travis both being worried to leave the cats alone with his dogs because they both know that her cats will outsmart the doggies and find ways to scare them
Taylor holding up one of Travises giant sweaters in front of her mom while doing laundry and saying “have you ever seen something like this? king kong. I'm dating the king kong.” 
Travis sometimes waking up at night and watching Taylor sleep whilst making sure their noses touch gently. Gently enough to make sure she won’t wake up.
Taylor running into Travises arms after each show, kissing him with a giggle on her face and him whispering a gentle “my angel” against her lips without anyone else noticing.
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make every mistake [H.Steinfeld]
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pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader
summary: you run into your ex at the vanity fair party, almost a full year after your breakup, and are forced to accept some hard truths.
warnings: technically none; bitter exes being bitter but also getting distracted; A LOT of references to cheating [very open to interpretation, though; more than one reference to JA; rubix please get over sunkissing challenge; did not proofread at all so it might not make the most sense at times; does this count as a ventfic?
wordcount: 1.5k
a/n: i was supposed to be writing something else [what a surprise lmao] but...it's sunkissing's anniversary and unfortunately, that song still means a lot to me and i needed to be nostalgic for a second. plus, last year's vanity fair party is what inspired me to start writing fanfiction again so...consider this a very weird, bitter, and nostalgic first anniversary celebration. i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your love, support, and patience this past year, i plan to continue writing for you guys for a LONG while <3 [and yes, this is sunkissing (sad girl edition)]
* * * * * * * Whoever coined the phrase,”wrong place, right time,” as a good thing seriously owes you some compensation. It implies that there could be something possibly good in the situation you’re in but what could be good about being stuck at the same party your ex is also at?
Of course, that person might get along with your friends who have been trying to convince you that this situation is a fantastic opportunity for you to show how happy you are. Something that would work if it were true.
But it’s not.
How could happiness be anywhere on your radar when every time you interact with someone, they’re quick to remind you your ex-girlfriend is currently parading around with a quarterback? Not to mention, the amount of cheating rumors hasn’t been helping you feel much better about the situation.
Maybe you’re overly petty or arrogant, maybe even codependent, but time has done little to heal the wounds caused by a certain actress.
Which is why you were supposed to be out having fun in the first place…although maybe all of this could have been avoided if a certain 22-year-old hadn’t lied her ass off and told you there was no chance in hell your ex would show up.
All you know is you’re stuck in a room full of people you don’t care about, anxiously looking around every few minutes hoping you won’t run into her. It’s exhausting but it’s also highly addictive.
You’re in the middle of debating ditching Billie and the rest of your friends instead of torturing yourself for another hour when you catch a glimpse of the person you’ve been trying to avoid all night. 
Your eyes find her for just a few seconds and yet the whole world seems to stop all at once. 
Just like the first time.
You wouldn’t say you have a habit of romanticizing the past…except when it comes to Hailee Steinfeld and her ridiculously enchanting energy. A lot of things have changed since the day you met but the one thing you’re sure will remain a part of you forever is the way your heart takes off running when she's around.
Running away would be easy. It would probably be the solution to your impending problem and yet you stay. Because as much as you hate to admit it…you’ve missed her. Seeing just a glimpse of her feels like ecstasy after spending so long trying to erase the thought of her from your mind.
You know you’re chasing after someone who isn’t even there anymore, someone who vanished the day Hailee chose to go out to dinner with that guy instead of coming home to you. The person you love has been shoved back into far more closets than you can count but you’re an addict and the thought of getting her back for just a few minutes gives you a greater high than anything else ever could.
So, despite the thousands of reasons not to, you find yourself walking toward her. You tell yourself it’ll be fine, she’s in the middle of ordering a drink and the chances of her paying attention to you are close to zero.
You quickly learn close to zero isn’t enough.
You arrive at the bar right when she’s turning around to go back to whoever it is she’s pretending to get along with tonight. Her eyes instantly find yours and whatever liquid courage you had fades away in that very same instant.
For a second, you expect her to walk away without even acknowledging your presence, but then her mouth opens. “I can’t believe you actually left the house for this.”
There were a thousand sentences you were hoping to hear her say and the one she chose is nowhere on it. It does nothing except remind you of all the infuriating reasons why you can’t be around her anymore.
“Gee thanks, don’t sound too excited.”
She merely shrugs, acting like she can’t see the way your smile drops. “Just being honest.”
At some point in your relationship, you would have made fun of her for sounding so much like the characters she loves to play on TV but today, her attitude pisses you off like nothing else.
“Honest, huh?” You scoff. “That's gold coming from the cheater.”
There’s a flash of something in her eyes, mostly annoyance, and you know damn well that’s exactly what you’re looking for. A sign that she’s still human despite how much she loves to pretend like she doesn’t have feelings anymore.
Unfortunately, you’re sure her reaction has more to do with the fact that you’re in a room full of people who could overhear you than anything else.
“Oh, come on. I didn't cheat on you,” she says in the exact same tone as all the times before.
“Right, right, you just casually had dinner with your new boyfriend while we were still dating.”
A crack begins to form in her facade but you’re too annoyed to celebrate. 
All she does is groan before placing her drink down on the bar and coming toward you. She wraps her hand around your arm, seemingly unaware of the sparks her touch ignites, and drags you toward the first secluded area she finds.
“Are we seriously going to have this fight again?” She questions you once you’re away from prying eyes.
“Sure,” you reply. “The only thing we ever do is fight.”
“Stop acting like I’m the only one in the wrong here. We both made mistakes.”
You scoff. “You’re right, I trusted you wholeheartedly. What a stupid mistake.”
“Oh my God.” She throws her hands up, frustration dripping out of her every pore, and yet she makes no move to walk away from you. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
“Changing isn’t always such a good thing. Just ask Martini and Brando, I bet they love the weather in Buffalo.”
It’s another cheap shot and you know it. Most of all, you see it. The flash of hurt that lingers in the eyes you know so well. 
“Don’t,” she warns.
You can’t stop yourself from adding more fuel to the fire despite her warning. “Why? Is that more honesty than you can handle?”
“y/n, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re right, I don’t know. Because I have no idea who you are anymore.”
It suddenly strikes you that you’ve had the same exact conversation with her before. You don’t know why you keep doing the same thing and hoping for a different ending. Especially considering Hailee is the most stubborn person you’ve ever met.
“You’re not the only one,” she says with a sigh, practically deflating in front of your eyes. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only person I’ve disappointed lately.”
“No offense but that’s the most accurate thing you’ve said in a while.”
A small chuckle escapes her and the sound instantly brings you back to simpler times. To spontaneous dates at the beach, random car drives to the middle of nowhere to watch the sunset, sleepless nights spent helping her rehearse for an early morning shoot the next day.
To being in love.
Back when your love actually mattered.
“Do you ever regret it?” You find yourself whispering into the space between you after a long silence. “Regret us?”
Her answer might split you in two but you're tired of the desperation that clings to you from the sheer amount of unsaid things that still linger in your mind. 
“No,” she replies, her voice so quiet you almost miss it. “I regret how things ended, I regret what I did to you…do you?”
You shake your head before you can stop yourself, the truth spilling out of you just as fast as the tears that painted your face the day she left. “I regret…how much I love you…how impossible it is for me to hate you.”
For a split second, you catch sight of the Hailee you once fell in love with. The one with warm eyes and the softest smile imaginable. The one who could easily break your walls down with a single chuckle. 
“Give it a few days,” she replies. “It’ll stop being so impossible.”
 It’s ridiculous how enamored her words make you. It’s also stupid and infuriating that no matter how badly you want to walk away from her, you can’t find a way to make your feet move. You’re stuck and that growing smirk on her face tells you she knows exactly how much you’re struggling.
“No witty comeback?” She questions, her head tilting slightly to the side in an almost mocking gesture.
“I’m just trying to decide if I should slap you or not.” Your words hold no real bite to them, even if you wish they did, and you both have to pretend neither of you notice the way you lean toward her.
Her eyes betray her as they slide down your face until they reach your lips. Her gaze rests there for longer than would be appropriate for an exchange between old friends. But you’re not old friends. You’re something more. Something that exceeds categories and reasons.
Something that rests completely in the space between your mouths.
It should be easy to turn away from her…but it isn’t…and you can’t stop yourself from meeting her half-way when she leans in close enough for you to feel her breath on your lips.
It’s a mistake.
But it’s one you make as easily as falling in loving her.
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hsgwrld · 29 days
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BODY BAG - JAKE
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-inspired by body bag - Chloe Moriondo
Pairing - classmate!jake x gn!reader
Genre - fluff,FLUFF!
word count -643
This is a revamp of the drabble I had on my previous account, to be honest,,idk why I even felt the urge to re-write it LMAO!! Can contain grammar mistakes! I was lazy to edit it fully.
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That's it. You despised Shim Jake with every fiber of your being. The one-sided hatred towards him was nothing new. Ever since first grade, you harbored a dislike for him. It wasn't just about his grades, which always seemed to outshine yours, but also the way he looked at you, causing your heart to flutter uncomfortably. You detested that feeling intensely. Stupid Jake, for eliciting such emotions within you. He shouldn't have been your seatmate or even your classmate in the first place. On the first day of school, the teacher assigned him to sit next to you, and he hadn't changed seats all the way through high school. His way of speaking, smiling, and his sweet, bubbly personality only fueled your anger, exacerbating those irritating feelings.
And then there was Jake again. Did he leave a love letter in your backpack? Indeed, he did. Did you expect him to confess his feelings? Not at all. He was just a classmate, nothing more. But deep down, you felt yourself melting and screaming. Yet, the letter was written so beautifully that your heart skipped a beat each time you reread those words for the hundredth time. You kept it in your diary, rereading it as time passed.
"I have always liked you! Even though you've threatened to punch me in the face multiple times, I still like you." In disbelief, you looked at him, blinking five times. Did he really say that? Did he make you stop in the middle of the sidewalk and face him? After a while, was he following you? Sure, he did. Stupid Jake with his nice voice. It seriously made you want to punch him, yet at the same time, hug him tightly and squeeze the life out of him for being so cute.
"I like you too, Jake, but I still want to punch you." Jake's lips formed a smile, the kind you loved to see so often.
Jake had developed a new habit of taking your hand in his and playing with your fingers. Even now, as you both watched a movie at his house, you struggled to focus on the screen. You wanted to punch him for distracting you, but those stupid feelings intervened. The heat in your face didn't help; it only made you more flustered. Always blushing and stuttering when talking to him. Even though you'd been together for months now, he still made your heart pound loudly. As his lips drew closer to your face, you felt yourself slowly drifting away from reality. He left a small kiss on your cheek, a giggle escaping his lips as he observed your flustered state. It wasn't new to him to see you react that way, but he loved teasing you about it.
Your heart melted once again. Jake took you out to watch fireworks together by the river. He hugged you from behind with his head on your shoulder and his hands around your waist. The night breeze brushed against your face. It was a lovely feeling, despite the occasional squabbles between you two. He was your little sunshine, secretly brightening your days.
"I swear, Jake, I will punch you," you threatened, only for him to burst into laughter. The whipped cream on your face made you look too comical, and he couldn't take you seriously.
Jake convinced you to do a TikTok trend with him. At first, you thought it would be fun, but with whipped cream smeared all over your face, glaring at Jake said otherwise.
"Wow, you're so scary," he laughed, pulling out his phone to take a picture of you.
"Funny, very funny, Jake," you said while heading to the bathroom to clean your face. Even as you walked away, you could still hear Jake giggling from the living room, making you smile once again, all because of your stupid Jake.
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charlie-lec-stories · 7 months
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Patience and 1/2 of Double Trouble // CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character
Summary: Charles knew that having his little brother, Arthur, in F1 with him was going to be chaotic, what he didn't expect was to have to deal with Arthur's best friend too.
Warnings: None, this is the fluffiest story on Earth.
Author’s Note: I keep finding old stories that fit this account and I find myself to lazy to keep editing the longer story I started, so this is another one-shot for you guys. Rate: PG.
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Patience. That was one word that had marked Charles Leclerc's personality for as long as he's been alive. Whenever he wanted something he worked for it, no matter how long it took him to get it. If there was a problem, he could think it through and solve it. His older brother, Lorenzo, has always said that it was a bless to look after Charles growing up, he was easy, giving Lorenzo the time to run around chasing the younger child, Arthur, who was the troublemaker of the family. After Charles and Arthur got into racing, Lorenzo ended up following Arthur around, making sure that he stayed out of trouble, while Charles, as patiently as always, worked his way up to the top. Even though they couldn't spend every second together, Charles was fully aware of the hard work that Lorenzo had to put up with looking after Arthur. It didn't matter the age, the boy was constantly up to something and his older brothers were used to it. Charles tried to stop by and stay with Arthur while Lorenzo took some time off. The middle Leclerc felt confident that he already could read his little brother's mind and stay a step ahead whenever Arthur was planning something. Still, he sometimes found himself surprised by his brother, like that time Arthur improvised a ladder with a glue gun and a dozen pool noodles (don't ask why he had them, Charles doesn't even know) and escaped the house through the first-floor-window of his room in the middle of the night to go to a party he was told he couldn't go. Or that other time Arthur tried to learn how to flip pancakes by throwing them up in the air with the pan and ended up covering the kitchen with pancake batter, the three brothers having to spend five hours cleaning up the mess before their mother got back home. There were a lot more of chaotic moments in "Arthur's criminal record" - as Lorenzo calls it - and Charles had managed to stay patient through them all. But after all, he's only human, and at some point he finally lost it.
Arthur finally found his equal in F3, another driver called Y/N. She was everything Arthur was: cunning and energetic, with a love for mischief and a flair for the dramatic. She was the most amazing and terrible girl Charles had ever met, both at the same time. He loved her, loved her friendship with Arthur and thought the world of her but at the same time, the "crime rate" in the Leclerc's household had went exponentially higher with her presence on their lives. The Leclerc family even called the duo "Double Trouble".
"I'm starting to believe that you're trying to kill yourselves". Charles stated and followed it with a sigh as he placed the first aid kit on the kitchen island. The other two just looked at him sheepishly. "But seriously, what the hell were you thinking? Shoving each other around on the stairs? Really?". Charles was making himself a coffee while he listened to them laughing hysterically when he heard the loud thud. He ran to the living room, only to find them both on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, Arthur grabbing his arm and Y/N with a crimson spot on her face.
"She started it!". Arthur accused his friend quickly, while holding up the icepack on his arm.
"Traitor". She mumbled and then winced when Charles placed the gauze with hydrogen peroxide over the little cut on her forehead.
"Stay still". Charles instructed her when she started moving away. "I want to get you cleaned up before this gets infected. You are lucky that you just fell a few steps. This could have ended up way worse".
"She's fine. It's not like it's the first time this happened anyways". Charles stopped his movements at his brother's words.
"What?". If looks could kill, Arthur would be six feet under. "Are you telling me that this happened before?"
"No, it hasn't. He doesn't know what he's talking about". The girl looked at her best friend with a 'what were you thinking' face and Charles decided to cut the subject short.
"Just, please, stop doing dangerous shit". The other two nodded their heads fervently and Charles left another long sigh out.
Of course, they never stopped. Through their whole time in F3 and F2 they kept getting themselves into trouble: burning a kitchen tablecloth when "fixing" the toaster (that they broke themselves in the first place), making a hole on Arthur's bedroom door while playing with a homemade air-soft gun (Charles is still trying to understand how they made it), blowing up the lawn mower by playing with its engine (they wanted to learn how to make it more powerful), breaking the TV while playing "real life goat simulator" (and accidentally smashing into it), and many more. But Charles' least favourite has to be when he had to pick them up from the police station because they fell into a fountain (again shoving each other playfully) and the police thought they were under the influence. Arthur called him from the station, asking for him to pick them up. Charles was already in F1 and was well known around Monte Carlo, he talked to the arresting officer and after they were tested and proved they weren't drunk or worse - just stupid, as Charles stated to the officer - they were free to go. In exchange for some pictures and autographs, the officers agreed not to leak the little incident to the press. It wasn't exactly bad PR, it was a really funny story, but Charles wanted to make sure his mother never found out.
When she wasn't blowing something up with Arthur, Charles actually enjoyed his time with Y/N. She was funny, hot, smart and charming. He had this little crush on her, nothing he found too concerning since he knew that she was off-limits, but serious enough to make him worry about her more than other people normally would. He was usually spoiling her and scolding his younger brother whenever he had to save them from another trouble they got themselves into and Arthur started to suspect that he liked her. Even if it was childish, the younger Leclerc was jealous, she was his friend and Charles was going to steal her attention if they started dating. It wasn't like with her other boyfriends, she spent most of her time with him and his family at his house, if they dated she would be all over Charles and stop spending time with him whenever she visited. With this idea in mind, Arthur did whatever he could to keep his friend oblivious to Charles' crush on her. She dated a few guys while Charles kept his distance and Arthur was happy whenever she confessed little crushes on guys that weren't his brother. Things were alright, they were still Double Trouble and Charles kept saving them with unwavering patience.
Time passed and both, Arthur and Y/N, made it into F1. Y/N driving for McLaren alongside Oscar Piastri and Arthur getting the 2nd seat in Ferrari, Charles' team. For their first season Y/N was single again, her last relationship just a bad memory. With this new promotion to F1, keeping Charles away from his friend was getting more and more difficult for Arthur. By then, he had a contradicted opinion about his brother and best friend dating, a part of him hated the idea and felt threatened, the other find them rather cute together and was aware of how happy they could make each other. His older brother was always around, and whenever she visited Arthur at the garage, Charles would constantly get her attention, but he had learned to deal with that... mostly. Still, even if with age came maturity and he grew more open to the idea, his jealous side shone from time to time. Usually, when Charles played hero and Y/N was all over him. They were still getting into trouble and Charles was there to play his "Ferrari golden boy" card to save them. Since there was no way of getting rid of Charles, he decided that he'd stop getting into trouble so Charles wouldn't be around them too much.
"I think this must taste like shit". Y/N said handing Arthur her tuna sandwich, she loved tuna, but this time she had to admit that it smelled bad. The younger Leclerc smelled it and made a face of disgust.
"I'm not taking a bite of that". She placed the food on the table and shuddered.
"Me neither". Then, she smiled devilishly. "We should put it on Max's bag. He hates tuna". At any other time, Arthur would be totally down for that, messing with Max Verstappen had been their main and favourite entertainment since the start of the season. Even the fans knew that he was their target and joked about it a lot. Max was cool with it and even found their little pranks kind of cute. He was about to deny the offer and be a good boy when he heard the voice he was expecting to avoid.
"What are you two up to?". Charles asked walking to the table then sat next to his brother.
"Nothing good". Y/N replied, honestly.
"Disappointed but not surprised". Charles followed that with a chuckle.
"We should get going, Charles, we have things to do before the race". Arthur said quickly. It was one of those days when he didn't want to have to fight for his friend's attention.
The three of them started walking towards the garages, Charles and Y/N chatting happily about their plans for summer break, which was just around the corner, not even once including the younger Leclerc in the conversation. Arthur was getting bored, they weren't even dating and he was already feeling excluded. Part of him felt bad, it was a long time since he felt like that, he was getting better with his possessiveness. But he was having a really chill day, having lunch with Y/N and getting ready for the race, and Charles had to appear out of nowhere and annoy the hell out of him. The thing is, being a good kid wasn't in Arthur's DNA and even if he tried, he just couldn't help himself. He did the only thing he knew always worked to get his friend's attention: a mess. He tapped on her shoulder and when she turned around to face him, he squeezed his water bottle and sparkled water on her face. Y/N fell backwards, Charles catching her swiftly before she hit the ground, still, her focus wasn't on Charles but on Arthur.
"You brought this on yourself". She said as she tried to launch herself at her friend. Charles quickly sneaked his arm around her and pulled her back against him, raising his other arm at Arthur, an accusing pointed finger directed at the blond.
"Ah ah ah". Charles warned, Arthur backing up. "Stop this before it gets out of hand". Y/N exited his grip and he put himself in front of her fast to stop her too. The two troublemakers ignored him completely, looking at each other defiantly. With Charles in between them, Arthur tried to sparkle some water again but Y/N moved out of the way. They tried a few more unsuccessful attacks and Charles finally accepted that it was useless to try and stop them. He moved away and Y/N took it as her chance to attack Arthur, who stopped her hand on time and moved it towards Charles' direction, half of the water bottle spilling onto his back. The two stopped on their tracks, fully aware that they were in trouble. Charles turned around slowly, an annoyed expression plastered on his face, the water running down his body from his shoulders to his feet. Arthur grew a smug smile on his face, not even caring about the consequences anymore, Y/N on the other hand, had her eyes open wide like a dear in front of a car. Charles was usually the one cleaning up their mess, not the one they messed up, this couldn't be good. The middle Leclerc lost the last bit of patience he had left. Without uttering a word, Charles grabbed both of their water bottles and quickly poured them over their heads, walking away with same pissed off expression he had when he first faced them. Charles had never gotten mad at them before. Scold them? Yes, all the time, but he was never actually angry.
Even if Arthur and her spent the rest of the day laughing about the water incident, she felt kind of guilty for getting Charles into their little war. He gave them the cold shoulder for the rest of the day and she couldn't stand it. Apparently, the middle Leclerc had interviews and their water attack meant a whole new outfit and hair and make-up touch up, things Charles hated to do and that made him waste a lot of time. For once, he was angry at them. Y/N understood their situation as the following silent agreement: They kept their mess within themselves and Charles helped them out from a safe distance. With this, she felt like that agreement was violated. He had to deal with the consequences of their actions himself and that wasn't part of the deal. She had to make things right. She owned him that.
After the race, won by Max (again), Y/N walked to Charles hotel room, hoping to get the chance to apologize before he went out to the party to celebrate his P2. She was already dressed for the occasion and was hoping that Charles wasn't pissed off enough to forbid her and Arthur from attending the party. Thinking about it, she couldn't blame him if he did. She knocked a few times, her hands trembling. It wasn't her first time alone with Charles, but it was the first since she admitted to herself she had a crush on him. And it was that crush that made her so scared of his reaction. She didn't want him to be mad at her, she wanted him to like her, even if it was just as Arthur's best friend. The funny and lovely Charles she was used to wasn't the one that opened the door, his face clearly showing his discomfort with her presence, making her rethink about her idea of apologizing right then and there. She knew that they had reached the limit of Charles' patience and she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out what laid beyond that limit.
"What do you want?". He asked, coldly. He wasn't actually that pissed off, but he didn't need another mess when he was celebrating a new podium. And he knew she was trouble.
"I just wanted to say congrats on the podium and...". She trailed off, playing with her hands and looking at everywhere but him. He softened a little at the sight.
"Come in". He moved away from the door to let her in. She walked inside the room, stopping in front of him. She stole a look at his outfit, black jeans and white buttoned up shirt that had the three upper ones undone. He looked amazing without even trying and she was doing the best she could not to stare too much. The strong scent of his cologne was the only thing that entered her body when she breathed in, leaving her almost dizzy.
"I'm sorry. You know? About today. We were kinda rude and well, I never told you I was sorry. Really dick move from us, from me...". She continued rambling a little. Damn, it was so hard to focus when all she could perceive from the world in that moment was just him. She looked so adorable he couldn't even be mad at her anymore.
"It's fine. No hard feelings". He assured her. She nodded and looked up at him. He was an arms length away, she wanted to close the gap, to grab his face and smash her lips against his, but he was off-limits and she knew it. "It was still not as bad as picking you up from the police station".
"I already apologized for that". She giggled. "We are lucky to have you around, saving our asses". Charles could feel that something was different. He had finally gotten mad at her, stopped treating her like a kid and she was owning it up. Maybe they were ready to face other challenges more than just silly pranks and stupid and unnecessary arrests. Maybe, just maybe, they were ready to be something more, in a more mature form. It was his time to get them into trouble and Arthur's time to deal with it. He moved closed and her breath itched in her throat. They were almost chest to chest, him looking down at her with that mischief that usually clouded her eyes.
"You are trouble, you know that?". He asked close to her face. She couldn't find it within herself to answer. His hands went to her hips, moving her towards the wall and pinning her against it. Their lips ghosted each other for a moment before he finally kissed her. It was as good as they imagined it, and they imagined it a lot. Hands touching, teeth pulling, hips grinding. All the pent up tension from the last two and a half years out in a few minutes that felt like hours. When they broke it up, they were panting for air.
"Arthur's not gonna like this". She said, guilt setting in her stomach.
"He'll survive". He placed his hand on her cheek, making her look at him. She was worried but she also knew that, with some time, her friend would understand. Charles reached down and kissed her again.
They knew they would be alright, after all, even if she was trouble, he was a patient man.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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ahoppingmagician · 3 months
Text
Nope
Alright, Viv just stop this train wreck, pull the plug, change your name and move to a mountain in the middle of nowhere. his woman is fully grown and I won't coddle her like the rest of the world.
Warnings: SA and Racism(If you aren't in the right head space please don't read these sections or this post)
SEXUAL ASSAULT
Alright, let's start with sexual assault. It shouldn't be treated like a joke or erotic because it's not. What else can I say to get it through people's skulls that SA isn't funny or sexy? If you truly need a post to understand why it's not acceptable, you are dangerous or too young to watch this show. This 30-something-year-old knows it's serious, but chooses when it should be taken seriously depending on her twink of the day. (You don't pick or choose when a topic is serious Viv, but go off)
Also, she needs to give things warnings, like I did for this post, for people to be
Happy
Healthy
Safe
Is it more hassle for you? Not at all. Will it be mentally damaging for the viewers? Yes, because you didn't warn them like a responsible creator about something they might have lived or have similar experiences with being shown on screen.
Goofy Rant
Now I'll brighten the mood by being a hateful bitch.
What is this plot? seriously how did we start with a hotel and then get to a threat of war between heaven and hell in like six episodes. That alone is two seasons, never mind every character's trauma, and other people that want the hotel cast dead, oh yeah and backstories for most of our cast...im six episodes.
VIV SLOW THE FUCK DOWN
If you have to cram every major plotline into your story then you failed. What she should of done is trim the fat off this burnt peice of bacon. Get rid of the Vees because they are pointless to the other plots or maybe the angel demon war because why would this show need it, or all the unfunny jokes.
Characters are shit adjacent but is that a surprise to literal any...wait her rabid fans. If your a fan of this series for god knows why then good for you...unless your a FAN fan. I have many words to say to them but that's for another day.
Edit: (Didn't even fucking know I posted this today, so sorry, onto racism)
RACISM
Now I am as Caucasian as can be so maybe I shouldn't speak on this, POC let me know if I can or if I should just shut up and let you do it.
I don't know much about voodoo/voodou, but I do know that it is a practiced religion, not a vibe VIV. You can't add a different religion to this show because it's a CHRISTIAN show, it explores the faults of God's judgement, heaven, and hell. Also, voodoo/voodou shouldn't be used as "evil" magic because we aren't in the 1900s to early 2000s anymore VIV. Also, you know it's a heavily if not completely black religion.
Alastor, Husk, Velvette, Emily, and Sera(Millie from HB aswell) don't look black. Now maybe I'm an asshole for this or even racist but where is the textured hair, like box braids, dreadlocks, afros, afro puffs, or just curlier hair in general. Why aren't you exploring the trauma that Alastor definitely went through because he was a biracial man in the early 1900s which could easily explain (not excuse) his behaviour, you could have a nurture versus nature theme.
Nifty feels...weird to me. First of all an Asian woman in the 50s who seems to have been raised or travelled to the USA, again racist trauma and all that being completely ignored. She feels like a stereotype, between the constant cleaning, obsessive behaviour, and her erratic behaviour. It feels like the crazy Asian woman stereotype.
Alright, that's it for right now, Have a wonderful day or night and wear whatever because it's all about your comfort because the world if making my own sanity crumble.
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husbandhoshi · 2 years
Text
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just a moment with you
pairing: hoshi x gn!reader
wc: 3.8k
summary: after a series of disasters, you find yourself on a long-winded detour from your senior trip with kwon soonyoung, local life of the party and the boy you may have just a little tiny crush on.
or the one where you fall in love with the boy you've fallen in love with every friday night.
notes: college!au, fluff, humor, friends to lovers, lots of alcohol mentions and romcom cliches
originally written for mads's @neonun-au birthday, and thank you to madison (@heartkyeom), vampy (@vampyrescript) , and eva (@bfwonu) for helping with edits!
It wasn't supposed to go like this.
You'd like to say you awoke to the smell of sandalwood, maybe room service or a foot massage.
Instead, you're roused by a hand cramp and the dull smack of your head against the window of Soonyoung's sedan as he speeds over what may be the deepest pothole you've seen in your entire adult life.
"Shit..." You blink, bleary-eyed, at the clock (4:39 PM, a full hour after you were supposed to get to the hotel), and then at Soonyoung, who's humming along to your music and driving with one hand as if absolutely nothing is wrong.
You've noticed he hasn't stolen the aux cord from you even though you were supposed to switch off ages ago. It's one of the many small graces you've noticed from him today—you almost forgive him for letting you sleep through the entirety of the playlist you curated specifically for this trip. He lifted your bag into the back of his car (fair, because it was embarrassingly heavy), bought you Starbucks (he probably needed the stars or something), and didn't lose his patience when you asked him the nth question about ballet (you have no explanation for this one. If you were him, you definitely would have lost it the fifth time you had to explain what a jeté was.).
Yet again, you feel like something more than just a casual friend in the leftovers car on your senior trip.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," he chirps. "Sleep well?"
You gaze out the window, watching the ribbon of green trees unfurl over the sprawling asphalt road. Once you get past Soonyoung's obvious speeding, it's nice, perfect even.
Until you remember you're on a trip to the beach. Not the middle of the forest.
"Soonyoung?"
"Yeah?"
"Where exactly are we?"
Without thinking, Soonyoung replies blithely, "I don't know. When you were asleep, Jeonghan called me and told me to detour and make a pit stop somewhere down this highway." A near comedic pause. "Also my phone's dead."
Then the music stops, signaling the death of your phone and the last tether you have to civilization.
You remember you're in Soonyoung's shitty 1990-something car with manual window cranks instead of phone chargers. And so it's just you, Soonyoung, and the road until you find some hillbilly death town to get gas at and figure out how to contact the rest of your friends, who are likely already sunbathing on the beach.
"So we're lost."
Soonyoung laughs, and it's almost enough to ease the wave of anxiety currently climbing your bones.
"Fuck. Oh my god," you groan. "We're in a horror movie, aren't we?"
"Ok, maybe, but we would totally survive a horror movie. Right? Come on. You're smiling."
"We are literally gonna be the first people to die. Like in the first thirty minutes."
For a moment you catch yourself tracing Soonyoung's grinning silhouette against the glow of the window, almost in admiration.
"What? You can't see me heroically rescuing you? I could absolutely take a zombie down. Seriously. We'd definitely make the hour mark."
"Not when you can't even keep our phones charged," you lament. "Or take the right exit. There, there, god, please check your blind spot!"
--
The town that you drive into is ripped straight from a postcard, thankfully, and not from the cover of a slasher movie.
It's almost incredible how, instead of drinking out of a coconut and watching Seokmin trip over his feet in an unnecessarily competitive game of beach volleyball, you're looking for parking spots on a street where it looks like cars haven't been invented yet.
But you don't really mind. In fact, as Soonyoung almost swerves off the road to point at a cute dog tied to a lamppost, you find this whole debacle a little endearing.
"Maybe we can park in front of this café and charge our phones there?"
"Yes, ma'am," Soonyoung replies, and that's how you find yourself seated in the cutest little booth, at a table so small, your knees are almost touching his.
In true disaster movie fashion, his phone charger is too frayed to be of any use, and so he peruses one of the sticky plastic-cover menus while you watch the slow creep of your phone battery to a serviceable percent.
"You like blueberry?" he asks.
"Sure."
You notice he's a foot tapper—always moving to some imaginary beat, never able to stay still. It'd normally bug you a little, but instead you're wondering what song he's dancing to. Almost as if reading your mind, he promptly sits on his hands and apologizes—"Sorry, 'm shaking the table," he laughs. "Bad habit."
"No, it's ok." You see an unreadable expression cross his face. But it's not a bad one—instead, it makes you curious. "I like trying to figure out what song you're thinking of."
"One of the songs from your playlist. I like your taste in music."
It flatters you more than it should, and to break the post-compliment tension you've invented in your own mind, you decide to call Jeonghan and set things straight while Soonyoung orders—blueberry pancakes and two coffees, please.
"Jeonghan, what the fuck," is the first thing you say to him, and Soonyoung laughs from across the table.
"Where are you guys?" is his languid reply, and, just as you predicted, you hear the telltale wail of Mingyu's voice complaining that Seungcheol was hogging all the shade. "Still driving?"
"What do you mean? Soonyoung told me that you told us to pull off at a rest stop."
"Hm?" He pulls the receiver away to holler at someone in the background (You can at least try to keep the ball in bounds, and someone, Seungkwan, maybe, yells something back). "Sorry, bad timing. I gotta go."
"What? Where? What the hell is going on?"
"You must have gotten lost." You can almost perfectly picture his nonchalant shrug, the dumb bucket hat he's got askew on his head. "Guess we shouldn't have put the two most directionally challenged people in the same car. Just stay the night wherever you are—we're not finishing all the alc today. Just most of it."
"Jeonghan—" And the receiver goes dead. "Jeonghan!"
--
It's over the welcome plate of pancakes Soonyoung ordered where you're able to fully contemplate your situation.
Of course it's the one time you're alone and sober with him where everything seems to go wrong.
You met Soonyoung at one of Jeonghan's parties. He was drinking from a wine bag, right from the spout, and it was then and there you knew you just had to be friends with him.
And it did happen—somehow, among college socialite Jeonghan's seemingly endless friend circles, you and the dance major fell into a steady rhythm of seeing each other on the weekends and vastly enjoying each other's presence.
Ever since, he was that friend for you. Your steadfast beer pong partner, the guy who texted you almost exclusively nonsensical memes and requests for philosophy notes (never without the pleading eyes emoji), and someone who was always down to split a milkshake with you at the midnight diner when the rest of your friends wanted real food (Isn't ice cream somewhere on the food pyramid? Soonyoung had always joked, to which Jihoon pointed out that Soonyoung ate like the pyramid was a circle labeled "junk". Says the guy who pisses straight Diet Coke, Soonyoung had replied, pouting, and it never failed to make you laugh.).
You had a comfortable friendship, one that was never less, never more, although you'd be lying if you said you never wished it was otherwise.
Now, looking at him, doused in the afternoon light and quietly listening to you ramble about your film minor, you never would have matched up this Soonyoung to the Soonyoung who did push-ups for an hour to attempt doing a keg stand by himself.
You push back the memory aching in your mind, that one night you walked him home after one too many margaritas.
"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" you had joked, and he turned to you, fully serious, and said you looked really pretty tonight. You remember the way his lips formed around the words, like it was the only thing he really knew in that moment.
And for once you felt relieved that he likely wouldn't remember a thing from that night, because you felt all the blood in your body, every single cell, rush to your head.
Maybe we both got a little too drunk, you had told yourself, but there was no way you could forget the way he had looked at you, and worse, that traitorous little flutter in the hollow of your chest.
He's saved you the last pancake.
"Whatcha thinking about?" he asks, more softly than you expect. "I know you're probably worried—" (Spoiler alert. You are.) "But...we're here now. Might as well have fun."
"I guess I can tolerate you for another 24 hours." You playfully roll your eyes, but not before catching the way he smiles at you. Yeah, he might smile at everyone like that, but this one, carved by maple syrup and sunlight, feels special.
"It'll be fun! Promise."
You make him pinky promise, even though you already believe him. You notice his hands are soft; you make him swear again just to hold them again, one more time.
--
As expected from a series of increasingly more unfortunate events, Soonyoung has dragged you into a souvenir shop for some tacky memorabilia to remember your trip by.
"Should we get them a postcard? We can write fuck you on the back," he says, scrunching his face up at the spinning rack of watercolor prints.
"Brilliant."
You join him by the display, and he promptly shows you the seven different postcards he was considering.
Too bright, too Hallmark, too Thomas Kincaid, you tell him as he shuffles through his stack,and even though he doesn't know who the fuck you're talking about, he takes your opinion like it's gospel and narrows it down to a painting of the sun over the lake, a big fat orange hovering above the little town you've found yourself in.
"If we're here, we might as well see the sunset. I think I saw a picnic area by the water," you say, watching him traipse over to a shelf of tourist trap hats. He tries one on, and you can't find it within yourself to tell him that, as cute as he is posing for you, it's not worth thirty dollars.
"Let's do it. I can show off my new hat."
Soonyoung grins at you, and it's like meeting him in reverse.
For some godforsaken reason, he knows what you look like mid-breakdown over a boy, and you know what his favorite hangover cure is (jasmine tea and a bowl of plain rice). And yet, you're both still figuring out the little things. When he pays for his goofy hat and the postcard, you catch that he has a little birthmark on his wrist.
"I still can't believe you cried watching Cars," you tell Soonyoung as you exit the gift shop.
"No amount of higher education could make me deny Mater's impact," he replies, hand over his heart, and you can't do anything but laugh. "Please tell me you'll write your thesis on him."
"Maybe if you look a little more pathetic, I'll think about it."
He doesn't hesitate to give you his best puppy eyes, and you actually feel your heart lurch a little.
"Hm. I'm listening."
And so you let Soonyoung lay out his master plan for your unwritten dissertation on Mater and Lightning McQueen's brotherhood, and it doesn't bypass you that he was actually listening to you talk about all that complicated movie lingo earlier.
He's a good listener even when he's not drunk. Actually, he's a better one sober, and it makes you feel kinda funny.
When he looks at you, stars in his eyes, you see the same Soonyoung that you've spent all those midnights with, except he still acts like he's known you for years you haven't had together.
You find yourself wishing that you knew him on nights other than Friday ones, that you knew his ups and downs, that you knew him as not just a drinking game partner, or a seatmate or another one of Jeonghan's friends or the guy you subject to mimosa therapy on bottomless Sundays.
You find yourself wishing you knew all of Soonyoung, and it's the moment you settle on that thought that you know you're doomed.
--
"So that's first position."
"Yup."
You watch Soonyoung's lithe fingers dance across the canvas of the tote bag you've laid out across both your laps, as you sit side by side on a bench by the lakeside. The air is warm and muggy with summertime, and there's no one out but the two of you.
"Arabesque into pas de ciseaux." A dash to stage right (the corner where your leg and the tote bag meet), and he pirouettes onto the bare skin of your thigh. His touch is featherlight, but it gives you goosebumps, something you desperately try to swallow down as his hand spins back for a final jump and bow.
"That's the jeté," you manage to say, and you can swear he's never looked happier to hear something.
"Yeah, you got it," he says, slow and soft. "See, you could do ballet too."
"Nowhere as good as you, not even close. I don't know if you saw me, but I've been to your shows before. You're incredible."
"No, I remember. I always look for you in the audience," he replies. "Because of that one time you asked me about my show, during that Chi Omega party." He lowers his eyes to his hands, now fidgeting in his lap. "You were the only one who did."
"I can't imagine not wanting to see your performances," is the only thing you can think to say (you're too busy fighting the butterflies in your stomach), but it seems okay, because Soonyoung leans on your shoulder. That mop of blonde hair smells like oranges and the sun, and you lean right back into him.
Some unexplainable feeling threatens to claw its way out of your chest.
It's familiar, intimate, too intimate. Yeah, maybe he wiped your tears with an McDonalds napkin when you cried in the drive-thru the day after you broke up with Minghao, but this is different. It didn't feel like a facehugger from Alien was going to fuck your shit up, not even close. (Although, Soonyoung's shitty jokes and the piss-poor absorbency of the napkin were more reasons to laugh than to catch feelings.)
"I like that about you," Soonyoung says. "You care."
"What do you mean? Of course I care."
"I don't know." He slips into that mumble talk again. "Sometimes it seems like all I am to people is the life of the party, that's all. Just the guy who's really good at beer pong. You're different." A pause. "Although, you've gotta admit, I have saved your ass more times I can count."
"Ok, fair. Never said I was the better half of our team." And when you manage to make him laugh, you add, "And I like that about you too. I don't think anyone else in the world would have let me go on that long about 70 millimeter film."
He laughs again, a pretty one that blossoms from his chest and shakes the two of you, bodies still connected.
The sound lingers in the air, and you let the dusk and the crickets and the smell of his cologne wash over you. You like how your knees are touching, how he rests on your shoulder like it's the most natural thing he's ever done—it's different than the Soonyoung that clings to you, crying about the power of friendship, because he can't walk straight after two beers, but you like it. You're coming to realize that they're two halves of the same picture, the same Soonyoung with a heart he wears on his sleeve.
It feels like an eternity before he breaks the silence. He sits up straight, and your stomach folds into itself a little.
"Do you remember that kickback we went to? Right after my Swan Lake performance?" Soonyoung's voice is low, casual, like he's sharing a secret between you and the universe. "We played truth or dare and you said you wouldn't mind kissing me?"
"Thought you were too drunk to remember. Everyone else was," you laugh, suddenly feeling too shy to meet the gaze you know is falling on you. You're falling, falling, careening down a mile-long cliff, with no intention to stop—somehow it's that part that scares you the most.
The memory's another one of those in-betweens, forgotten glimpses of a boy you felt only you knew. The sweaty, euphoric, post-practice Soonyoung you bumped into when your political theory class ran late, the whispered jokes in between tequila shots, the stumbling, drunken conversations about the universe and everything in it on the long walks home.
The fact that all of these little precious seconds also lived in Soonyoung's mind, that they're as real to him as they are to you, makes your heart feel raw, seen.
"How could I forget something like that?" is his simple response. The gravity of the moment settles into your bones; you're breathless, giddy. "I'm asking because—," he pauses, taking your expression into his eyes, writing you into memory. The sudden intimacy of it all makes you want to cry. "Because I want to kiss you. Will you let me?"
The words hang in between you, just one more secret between you and the universe.
Maybe it's hopeless, maybe it's just another one of those passing moments, but you don't think you would ever forgive yourself if you let it go by. And so you close the distance between the two of you, feel those heart shaped lips on yours.
At first he's so gentle, as if he's buffering a little. And then he clicks into motion, heart possessing his body, and kisses you back like it's a fairytale.
"You make me so shy," he murmurs. You're so close, you think he can feel your heart beating out of your chest. "I almost chickened out of it."
He punctuates his sentence with another kiss, which you gladly lean into. This one is more giggly, impulsive (Sorry, I couldn't help it, he says against your lips, and you're so happy you could die right here, right in front of the lake in the middle of nowhere, in the arms of the stupidest, hottest ballerino you know).
"Shy? Me?"
"Yeah. You're cool, and you're smart and funny—" You watch him stumble over the words as you meet his eyes, which is so cute, it physically pains you. "And you're good at karaoke, which is really fucking hot."
"Oh, so that's what got you, huh?"
You remember the night he was talking about, the one right after you were positively sure you flunked your stats final, where you rolled into Jeonghan's frat house two hours late looking no better than a wet rat. You grabbed the mic and lost your goddamn mind, which in no way was attractive or sexy, but you guess Soonyoung's of a different breed.
"What can I say, I'm a simple man," he replies, nose pressed to yours.
You're soaking into the moment, the hazy warmth of the lakeside and the way your heart seems to leap right into Soonyoung's lap every time his eyelashes skirt over your cheek. And then you remember everything else, like the fact that this is not some Lifetime movie and that you still have to find a place to stay and a way to get to the beach tomorrow.
"We need to get a room."
"Already?" Soonyoung almost jumps out of his skin. "I, uh—"
"Not for that, idiot," you scoff affectionately. "We're stuck here for a night, remember? Before we get to, you know, the trip we're supposed to be on?"
"Ohh, fuck." He looks at you with those big, vacant eyes, and you know he's totally lost the plot. "How the fuck are we gonna tell everyone we're, like, a thing now? We're a thing now, right?"
"I hope so," you laugh, reveling in the relief that floods through Soonyoung's features. "As for telling everyone, I’m starting to think they set us up, actually. It all kinda makes sense now."
You're not exactly anticipating Jeonghan's shit-eating grin when you tell him it actually worked, but you know this whole plot was him looking out for you in his own special way. (You're not keen on finding out just how obvious your crush was to everyone except the two of you, though).
Although, it does kind of feel like a Lifetime movie—when you walk to the local motel, your hands brush against each other with all of the pent-up tension of a first love, until you finally just grab his hand and feel it melt into yours.
"I've always wondered what this would feel like," he says, thumb brushing over the back of your hand.
"What, holding hands? That's supposed to come before the first kiss, you know."
"I mean we can kiss again. And just forget about the first one if you want to do it in order."
Who are you to deny him, you think, and gladly, gladly indulge him.
"Were you in on this whole thing?" you ask when you're finally able to pull him off you.
"No, but I get why, 'cos I can't really keep a secret," he replies, sheepish grin on his face. "Oh, wait, so you're saying Jeonghan got us lost on purpose. Ohhh."
His eyes get all big and shiny, and you know you're down bad when you find the fact that he just got it more than a little cute.
If he weren't so convincing, though, you would have thought this was a group effort, because when you open the door to the only vacant room in the entire motel, there is exactly one tiny little bed.
"You've gotta be kidding me," you laugh, but the second you see Soonyoung drop all the bags to immediately begin building a pillow barrier, you fall for him all over again.
And as if on cue, your phone dings with a text from Jeonghan.
You owe me a drink, it reads. Classic.
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elusivewildflower · 4 months
Text
Santa, Baby | Court Gentry x F! Reader
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Pairing: Court Gentry x F! Reader (from The Other Fitzroy series)
Summary: Set three years in the future, your family is finally safe and settled from the events of this unfinished series, The Other Fitzroy. It's your first Christmas in a home you can truly call your own, and Court took it upon himself to place presents under the tree in the middle of the night. You hadn't expected him to take the job so seriously, but you have to admit, the Santa suit looks good on him.
Warnings: Smut. Very small amount of roleplay? Unprotected p in v. Oral Sex (f receiving). Breeding kink. Talk of pregnancy. Christmas eve & morning festivities.
Word Count: 3k
A/N: I know this is a tad bit late, but I've been so busy and suffering from writer's block that this is all I could get finished. Because it's late, this has not really been proofread or edited all that much, so all mistakes are my own and I'm sorry if this is terrible! I haven't finished a fic in.....god knows how long.
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Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a red-cladded figure creeping down the stairs. For a moment, you’re confused. A second later and your heart is swelling in your chest as you lean against the doorway for a better view. Court had insisted on being the one to place the presents under the tree while Claire and Lyla were sleeping. You hadn’t argued, after all, he was the only one who could move throughout the house without making a single noise. But you hadn’t expected him to take the job so seriously. He wasn’t donning a long white beard and his physique certainly didn’t match that of a typical Santa, but the red suit and hat he wore was quite convincing. A smile spread across your face as you watched him place each present under the tree with a caring precision only he possessed. 
Court didn’t spare you a glance until he was sneaking back up the stairs, presumably to get more presents, as you could tell a few were missing. It had been three years since your family were kidnapped by Lloyd and his men, and it was the first Christmas in which you were finally safe and settled. As he shot you a wink, his lips curling up into his signature smirk, you felt a familiar heat course through you. God, you didn’t think you’d ever stop reacting to him in this manner. All it took was one look from him and your panties were soaked. Your thighs squeezed together as his form descended back down the stairs. It took everything in you not to disrupt him, so you settled for a distraction. You snagged one of the cookies left out for Santa on the coffee table and resumed your previous position against the doorway to the kitchen.
Once the last present was laid beneath the tree, Court silently walked towards you. He gestured to the cookie you were snacking on while ogling him. “I think that was left for me,” he teased. 
You hummed in response and offered it to him. “I’m sorry, they were just too good to resist.” 
Taking a bite of the sugar cookie you held in front of his face, Court gave a hum of appreciation. “No argument there.” He agreed, resting his arm on the wall above your head as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. 
It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, your arms wrapping around his neck as his tongue sought entrance to your mouth. Your lips parted immediately, allowing his taste to infiltrate your fifth sense. God, you loved getting lost in him. 
Eventually, the two of you parted for air. As your eyes fluttered open, a jolt of arousal coursed through you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, the blue hues you adored barely perceptible. You couldn’t hide the wicked grin that spread across your face. “Wanna take this upstairs, Santa?” 
His expression mimicked yours as he responded instantly. “I thought you’d never ask.” Court quickly bent down and slid his hands beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease. Instinctively, you wrapped your limbs around him for support. A soft giggle escaped from you at the sudden movement. Even if this was his go-to move, you swore you’d never get used to being swept off of your feet.
Court made the journey to your shared bedroom in record time. The door was shut and locked behind him, ensuring your little one couldn’t waltz in if she woke in the middle of the night. As he approached the bed, you were gently tossed upon it, prompting another giggle from you as you bounced from the force. 
As soon as your back had hit the bed, Court was expertly unclasping his oversized belt and shrugging his Santa suit off. His boots were shucked off and kicked aside before he eagerly crawled over top of you. Your lips collided passionately as Court used his thigh to part your legs for him, his weight pressing down on you in the delicious way that you loved. He rolled his hips against your core, his growing erection pressing directly where you needed him. 
Much to your displeasure, Court pulled away, eliciting a whine from you. 
He tsked disapprovingly, sitting back on his haunches. “Good girls don’t cry when they don’t get what they want.” His calloused hands inched up your sides as he spoke, fingers curling under the hem of your holiday-themed nightdress. “Are you going to be a good girl?” 
You fought back the urge to whine again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod. “Yes, I’ll be good.” You verbalize, knowing that’s what he would want. What a good girl would do.
Court nods once, seemingly satisfied with your response. He rucked up your holiday nightdress until your panties were revealed. A low groan emitted from him as he took in the sight of your soaked panties. He wasted no time in removing them, guiding the fabric down your legs and tossing them to the side. This time, a louder groan resounded in his chest as he was met with your glistening folds.
“Now, that is too good to resist.” He complimented huskily. 
His words had heat creeping up your neck and another wave of arousal flooding through you. “Court, please,” you whined impatiently. You needed him to do something. Your walls clenched around nothing, helplessly. You felt as if you were going to explode, or perhaps melt into a puddle of your former self. You didn’t care if he got you off first with his mouth, his fingers, or simply his cock. You’d be blissfully happy with either option, or perhaps you’d be lucky enough for a combination of all three. 
Court ignored your plea, but promptly settled back between your legs, his face hovering mere inches from your pussy. You could feel his hot breath fanning against your skin and it was making you antsy. Thankfully, he put you out of your misery only moments later, when his thumbs parted your folds and his tongue sunk between them. His tongue lapped from your entrance to your swollen bundle of nerves and his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs. Immediately, a moan escaped from both of you in unison. 
“Delicious,” he growled out against you. 
You threaded your fingers through Court’s short, dark hair, seeking purchase to help ground you. If you weren’t careful, you’d start grinding against his face any second. It was only a few moments later when you felt one of his thick digits prodding at your entrance. His finger slipped in with little resistance and quickly found the soft spot that had your toes curling. 
“Oh, fuck.” You moaned out, trying to be mindful of your volume. The door to your bedroom may be locked, but that didn’t mean you wanted to wake anyone who might come knocking. Court focused his tongue upon your clit now that his finger was added into the mix, and after a few minutes, he added a second. It wasn’t fair how quickly he could make you come. Between the warm caresses of his tongue and the delicious stretch of his two thick digits, your orgasm was building at a rapid pace. 
At this point, you had lost all control over your own hips and began to roll them in time with the thrust of his fingers. Normally, if Court wanted to tease you or prolong your pleasure, he’d pin your hips down with his big, muscular arms. When you found no resistance to your movement, you knew he was just as lost in his own pleasure as you were. Your thought was further proven as he began to groan against you, and a quick glimpse revealed his hips thrusting into the bed in search of friction. 
A whimper fell from your lips from the sight, and as your walls clenched around his fingers, both of you knew your orgasm was imminent. “I-I’m gonna….” You warned, your words melding into a moan as he hooked his fingers just right inside of you. 
“Come for me, baby.” He encouraged, pausing in his ministrations long enough to speak before returning full force to push you over the edge. 
Court’s free hand rose to cover your mouth with perfect timing as you came. He knew you better than you knew yourself, as the moans you let out upon reaching orgasm were far too loud and you had no control over them. Your walls spasmed around his fingers and your thighs trapped his head in place as your pleasure reached its peak. Court continued to work you through your orgasm, only stopping once he felt a tug upon his hair to signal you were overstimulated. 
As he pulled away, you noticed his beard was soaked with your arousal and a small grin pulled at your lips. Court sat up to push his pants down far enough to free his aching cock, a sigh of relief escaping from him. He wasted no time in settling himself back between your legs, lining his throbbing cock up with your entrance. You hardly got a chance to enjoy the view of his thick, veiny member before it was plunged deep inside of you. 
You and Court moaned in unison as he bottomed out inside of you. As his arms caged you in, you found purchase on his incredibly buff chest. You loved each and every part of Court’s body, but God did you enjoy the feeling of his muscular torso. He didn’t wait long for you to adjust to the stretch of him before he began pounding into you. 
Each thrust of his hips had a whimper tumbling from your lips. Then, when he grew tired of the position, clearly needing to be even deeper inside of you, he wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs and pinned your legs up by your ears. The feeling of his cock reaching such depths was nearly painful, but the slight twinge of pain only made the pleasure feel that much better. That, and the feeling of his bulging biceps against your skin was more than enough to further your arousal. 
“God, you feel so good,” Court groaned out his compliment as his weight pushed you further into the bed. His pubic bone rubbed against your swollen bundle of nerves with every shift of his hips, and you could already feel a second orgasm building within you. The way Court’s cock twitched within you let you know he was nearly there as well, and you couldn’t wait for him to fill you up. You clenched around him just from the thought of his seed spilling inside. 
Another groan tumbled from Court’s lips in response to your walls clenching around him. Soon, the only sound within the room was skin slapping against skin, noises of pleasure falling from each of your lips, and panting as you fought to catch your breaths. As the muscles in your lower stomach tightened once again, signaling your orgasm wasn’t too far away, Court let out an admission you hadn’t expected. 
“I want another baby,” he managed to growl out in between gasps for air. 
The pleasure had made your brain foggy, and it took you a few moments to understand what he had said. Once everything clicked in your mind, your walls clenched around him tightly, nearly stalling his hips. You were more than okay with that desire. “Oh, fuck, yes, Court, yes.” You moaned. “Put a baby in me.” 
Your words seemed to renew his vigor, as his cock pounded into you with a new urgency. The thought of carrying his child again must’ve been as much of a turn on to him as it was for you. Especially since this time, he’d be here for the pregnancy. He’d get to watch as his child grew within you, as your breasts swelled up with milk, and that was an experience you couldn’t wait for. 
One of his hands slipped between the two of you to circle your clit. He may have been brushing against you with each thrust, but it wasn’t quite enough to send you over the edge again. The direct contact of the rough pad of his thumb was more than enough, though, as within a few rotations and several more thrusts, your second orgasm was washing over you. 
You bit down upon your lower lip to muffle your cries of ecstasy as Court fucked you through your release. Within moments, his hips faltered as he reached his orgasm, spurred on by your own. His cock pulsed as he shot rope after rope of his hot seed within you, a groan resounding deep in his chest. He remained inside of you for a while, both of you catching your breath, before he finally let your legs fall back down to the bed. You could no longer feel them, but truly, you didn’t care. You were completely spent and satisfied. Already, you could feel sleep beginning to overtake you. 
Court pressed his lips against yours in a loving kiss that you happily returned. When Court finally pulled out, he let out a slight hiss of pain, plopping himself beside you. Turning onto your side, you threw your arm across his torso and laid your head upon his chest. In return, Court wrapped an arm around you. It didn’t take very long for the two of you to fall fast asleep.
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Abrupt, excited, knocking woke you from your slumber. “Mommy! Daddy! Santa came!” The knocking continued as your daughter shouted through the closed door. “Come on, come on, come on!” 
Even in your half-asleep state, you couldn’t help but chuckle. 
“We’ll be right there, sweetie.” Court called out before you could respond. Of course, he would be awake before you were. 
“Hurry up! I’ll go wake Claire!” Lyla shouted one last time before her little footsteps padded off down the hallway. A second later and you could hear a series of knocking begin again on Claire’s bedroom door. 
You rolled over to face Court, who was already watching you. 
“Sounds like we need to get dressed,” he mused. 
A grin spread across your face as the excitement of your daughter began to rub off on you. “Yeah, sounds like it.” You murmured in response. A part of you would’ve loved to stay right in bed, naked, all day with Court. Perhaps trying for another baby like he admitted to wanting last night. But, the other half knew you had more important responsibilities right now – and you had to admit, you couldn’t wait to watch Lyla open her presents.
Court pressed a kiss to your forehead before he tossed the covers aside, climbing out of the warm bed. You took a moment to watch the view as he dug around for pajamas in a drawer. You still didn’t understand how you got so lucky. You were torn from your thoughts as a set of pajamas were tossed in your direction. Court had found your clothes before his own, and your chest warmed at the notion. 
You finally climbed out of bed and slipped on the flannel pajamas before finding your fuzzy slippers. Court was by your side seconds later, slipping his larger hand into yours as he unlocked the door and opened it for the two of you to exit. 
Entering the hallway, you found Claire, who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes, as Lyla dragged her towards the stairs. Upon noticing you were up and moving, Lyla let out a shriek. Claire flinched at the loud sound, but you and Court simply laughed. 
“Last one down opens their presents from Santa last,” Court teased. Your little one didn’t want to risk losing and immediately took off full speed down the stairs towards the Christmas tree. 
“Be careful!” You shouted after her, following at a much slower pace. There hadn’t truly been a race, as Claire was far too old to believe in Santa anymore, but even she put a bit of pep in her step to make it more believable for her niece. 
Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, Lyla was already bouncing around and deciding which presents she wanted to rip open first. Finally, she settled on the one that was the most oddly shaped. Claire, ever the photographer, readied her camera to capture every moment that she could. 
It didn’t take long for the first present to be unveiled, as it hadn’t been wrapped so snugly. After all, who truly takes the time to wrap a bike? Your daughter squealed in excitement and fawned over the purple bike for several moments before moving onto the next gift. 
As the two of you watched Lyla happily tear open her presents, you shot a glance in Court’s direction. “I certainly hope I can catch Santa in the act again next year.” You thought aloud, a sly grin pulling at your lips. 
Court’s arm around you gave a gentle squeeze as he shot you a wink. “I think your chances are fairly high. After all, you have the best cookie he’s ever tasted.”
“Ugh, gross.” Claire whined out in disgust, her nose scrunched up as she took a step further away from the two of you. 
A snort of laughter escaped from you and Court chuckled softly. Your voices had been soft in volume, but apparently not soft enough. The teenager tried her best to keep her distance as she continued to take photos of her niece opening presents.
After a moment, you settled your head against Court’s chest and happily took a sip from your steaming cup of coffee. As the sound of wrapping paper being ripped apart continued, Lyla suddenly let out a scream. She had finally reached the one present she had begged everyone for. Her very own Barbie dreamhouse. Your eyes flitted between your five-year-old and your sister Claire before raising to meet the eyes of the man who made this life possible. Upon feeling your gaze, Court’s face turned towards yours. His brows quirked up playfully before he spoke.
“Merry Christmas, my love.” His soft voice rumbled in his chest as he leaned down to hover his lips over yours. 
“Merry Christmas.” You returned just as softly, closing the gap between you as you shared a gentle, yet loving, kiss.
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buckysred · 2 years
Text
Proud
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel wakes up a little down in the dumps so you attempt to cheer him up. 
Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, sad azzy, bad editing, that's literally it
Word Count: 653
A/N: I’ve been on a writing drabble kick lately so have any acotar requests send them in ;). (I also wrote this in under an hour so excuse anything that's not cannon accurate like the non-magic fridge lol) 
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Azriel had a habit of letting negative emotions consume him. You knew he took pride in being the Spymaster of the Night Court. But he still had to live with the violence he committed, even if it was in the name of protecting his court.
So, when you were sitting down sipping your morning tea, and Az dragged himself into the kitchen, you knew what was up. Usually, his walk was quiet but confident, precise. But today, his feet visibly dragged. It had your heart pulling for him knowing that his demons were being particularly hellish today.
Azriel had moved over to the fridge, ruffling through it mindlessly, when you got up and wrapped your arms around his torso. You let your nose rest into the curve of his back, being careful of his wings. “G’morning, sweetheart.”
Your voice seemed to snap him out of whatever haze his mind had gone into. Az turned in your arms, lifting his scarred hand to cup the back of your head. You watched his tired eyes fall into focus with your mouth. “Morning. How’re you?”
His eyes were still focused on your mouth, but he didn’t make any move towards closing the gap between you. Instead, he just hushed his hand down your head until he reached your neck. You scowled a little at that. “Was doing pretty good until this moment. Don’t I get a good morning kiss?”
A small smirk flitted across his face. Your eyes softened at it, progress. “Y/n, if you want a kiss, all you’ve gotta do is ask nicely, and I’d happily grant you relief.”
You scoffed at his choice of words, bringing your hands from his torso to wrap them around his neck. “Relief? In that case, I can go without. Thank you.”
You moved to turn away, but Az was quicker, plopping a short but dizzying kiss on your lips. The triumphant smile that pulled across your mouth had Az’s heart lightening even further. The guilt and shame that harassed him in his sleep becoming a thing of the past with just one smile from you.
Azriel dropped his head into the crook of your neck. His voice was muffled against your soft skin, “Difficult. Always have to be so difficult.”
“I wasn’t the one that came in here looking all sleepy and grumpy. Now, was I? I just couldn’t help teasing you a little.” Your fingers massaged the nape of his neck lightly.
“Yeah. Yeah. Whatever.”
You both just stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other. Az’s warm body leaning into yours, while you massaged anywhere your hands could reach on him. His body slowly melted, the tension releasing in his muscles.
When a few moments passed, you spoke up again, your voice gentle, “You know I’m proud of you, right?”
Azriel lifted his head so he could look into your eyes, his eyebrows bunching together. “Proud of me for what?”
You brought your hands up to his cheeks, your thumbs swiping over his cheekbones. “For being strong and courageous. For being the shoulder I, or anyone, needs to lean on. For just being completely you.”
Azriel’s reply came in the form of a heart-stopping kiss. His mouth molded against yours just like it always did. So sugary, sweet, and full of love that it had your head swimming.
Before either one of you had the chance to pull away, Cassian’s voice broke your shared bubble.
“Um- are you guys seriously just gonna stand there and make out while the fridge door is open? Cause when that thing stops working, I’m not taking the fall for you with Rhys.”
While still kissing you, Az raised a middle finger at Cassian. Earning a muffled laugh out of you and an annoyed grunt from Cassian.
Az pulled away from your giggling mouth and pressed his forehead against yours. He didn’t have to say it, you saw the immense gratitude in his eyes.
You pecked his lips once more. “Anytime, baby.”
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dib-thing-wannabe · 7 months
Text
The Villain's Untold Moldings - Chapter One
next>>>
(Quickly, two things before y'all start reading this-
This doesn't mean that I'm quitting with my cu au content, I just needed to write this as it came to me at night and I have to share it with everyone else, so consider it more as a side project then anything else.
In this fanfic, Robot does not have his canon look, but instead has the Robot human (?) design made by @taxlthomas (Or @itsalldownhillfromherehoney because idk which to tag as they are the same person). This is something that I feel is important to mention as I don't think anyone could take it as seriously as I imagine it to be, so please check out their artwork before reading this if you don't know what it looks like. As I'm already tagging people, I'd also like to thank @genderlessjacky who helped me with the name of this fanfic!
Other than that, enjoy this!)
(Edit: I should mention that when I make more chapters, they will be featured on my pinned post, though I'm not tagging my pinned with the pj masks tags.)
Memory log 1 - Date: Sept. 7, 2005 - Time: 12:01
I turned on for the first time ever. I scanned the room I was in, standing on my charging pod, when the scan stopped as I laid my robotic eyes on a man. He had raven colored hair, fair skin, green eyes, and he was wearing a lab coat covered in oil. He seemed proud, yet tired.
"Hello, Robot. You may call me Mr. Mecano, or if you'd prefer, Master. I'm the one who made you!" He told me in a prideful tone.
"Hello, Master." I replied with, only having a monotone voice at the time.
He looked at me again, motioning me to follow him as he exits the room. I, of course, follow him. His house was much bigger than it looked from the charging pod, it was clear that he had the money to spend. I saw other robots around the place as I followed him, though they were much smaller than me and didn't do much.
We eventually made it to what is called a living room, with a large couch in the middle of it.
"Go ahead, sit down for a moment! I need to grab some people before I can tell you what your current purpose is!" Mr. Mecano told me, holding his hand towards the couch. I sat down on it as he exited the room.
After some time, I heard a female voice nearby. "Hunny, are you sure it's going to be safe? I mean, his body that you reused was originally made to harm any trespassers! Who knows how gentle he could get!" She spoke up.
"Dear, trust me, I have made the necessary adjustments to his physical body to be able to be as gentle as a mouse. And, before you even think about his coding, I took out anything that could harm someone who may be innocent!" He told her reassuringly.
She let out a soft sigh before telling him, "Okay, I believe you. I don't have any reason not to."
He walks back in with the woman trailing behind him, holding something wrapped in a blanket in her arms. The woman had long brown hair with a white streak in it, more tanned skin compared to Mr. Mecano yet it's still pale, blue eyes, and she was wearing a long nightgown, despite it being noon.
"Robot, this is my wife! You may call her Mrs. Mecano, or you may also call her Master!" He announced lovingly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"Hello Ma'am."
"... You know what, that works too!" He began walking towards me again, now with his wife in tow, as she is clearly nervous.
He gently grabs what's in her arms as he speaks in a soft yet energetic tone. "Now I can tell you what your purpose is!"
He walks closer to me until he is basically towering over me, as he begins to show me what's in the blanket.
"This is our son. His name is Romeo Mecano. He was born on August 31 of this year. You see, I need to continue to work so that my family and I can continue to live comfortably, but the baby still needs to be cared for, as my dear wife is having too many troubles recovering from his birth to safely take care of him without any assistance. Your job is to care for Romeo when neither of us can, and to make sure that whatever happens, he would never be harmed."
I nod my head as I looked closer at what was in the blanket. Sure enough, it was a baby. A sleeping baby with the same raven hair his father had, yet has the white streak in his hair that his mother passed down to him.
"Here, try and hold him! You're going to need to do it a lot anyway!" He said with a light in his eyes, as Mrs. Mecano bit her finger out of nervousness. I hold my arms out in what I had believed to be the correct way. He placed the child in my arms, and I just held my arms like that.
He chuckled before speaking again. "Robot, you are holding a small human being, not a platter! Don't be scared, gently bring him towards your chest more!"
After a moment of processing, I then held him similarly to how they held him. "Is this good, Master?"
"It's great! See, you just powered on, yet you're already learning all the necessities!" He cried out in a joyful manner, clearly more proud then ever.
He began conversing with his wife, but my memory doesn't remember their exact conversation, as I was paying full attention to Romeo at this point. I can only recall that Mr. Mecano was reassuring her that their son was safe in my hands and that he wouldn't ever make something that would hurt either one of them. I began to hold him in a way where he was facing me, my hands under his little armpits. After a few seconds, I held him near my chest, his tiny head resting on my shoulder as one of my hands gently cups it, and the other held his scrunched up body. My Master quickly took notice of this, and he only chuckled and said, "Yeah, he's going to be safe and sound."
The rest of the day was Mr. and Mrs. Mecano teaching me what to do during what situations, how to care for the child, how to care for wounds, ect. When Romeo finally woke up, he had icey blue eyes, though they told me that his eyes would darken overtime, but will most likely stay blue.
Memory log 7 - Date: Sept. 15, 2005 - Time: 20:21
A week has passed since I was first introduced to everything. Today I noticed that Mr. Mecano started acting strangely. Normally he works on other inventions and sells them, and tries to spend every spare second he could with either his wife, or if he's awake, Romeo. Meaning that I see him around ten to twenty times a day other then when he is in his workshop. Today though, I had only seen him once outside of his workshop, and it's already dark out. It was as if he was trying to avoid them today, especially his son, who he usually coddles every time he lays eyes on him.
As I was patrolling the house, something I normally do when not given a task to complete, Mrs. Mecano approached me.
"... Hey, Robot? Can you tell me something?" Her voice was filled with worries and woe's as she asked me this.
"Of course, Ma'am."
"Do you think that my husband has been acting... strange, today? I mean, I don't think that this is a bad thing, but I need a second opinion on it."
I stood silent for a moment, trying to find the words to tell her that I agree with her without her feeling anymore worried. "Yes Ma'am, I do. Though I believe it's nothing to worry about just yet. I saw that he didn't get as much sleep as he normally does last night, so there is a great chance that is what's causing him to act strangely."
".. Yeah, you're probably right. Though just in case, I'm going to talk to him about it. If Romeo wakes up, please watch him for me until I'm done."
This caught me off guard, as she doesn't like it when it's only me and Romeo together alone. I believe she's either starting to finally trust me, or she's too worried about her husband to think properly.
"Of course, Ma'am."
She let out a sigh of relief before speaking again.
"Thank you, Robot." She then began heading downstairs towards the workshop.
She didn't say a word to me as she went back to her bedroom two hours later, so I am guessing she wasn't able to get anything out of him. Romeo is growing rather fond of me, so I don't think he mind the fact that he had seen me more than he had seen his dad today.
Memory log 13 - Date: Sept. 21, 2005 - Time: 15:34
Mr. and Mrs. Mecano have been agruing for what has felt like non-stop today so far. After he started randomly distancing himself from his family, Mrs. Mecano has been trying to talk to him more and more about it, yet he's been practically pushing her away. This is what seems to be their first ever argument in their entire relationship. I began standing near the doorway of their bedroom, as the tention began rising between them.
"Oh my GOD, WHY WON'T YOU GET THE FUCK OFF MY BACK?! I AM WORKING MY ASS TO PROVIDE FOR EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET FOR IT!?" His voiced boomed through the house.
"H-Hunny, please!! I'm not trying to be overbearing, I'm j-just getting worried! You have never acted like this before!!!" She yelled back, holding in tears as she tries to talk to him.
"OH, PLEASE! YOU ARE ALWAYS GETTING WORRIED ABOUT SOMETHING THAT I DO, EVEN WHEN I TELL YOU THAT EVERYTHING IS FINE, BUT NOOOOOO! SOMETHING IS TERRIBLY WRONG WITH EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING I DO!!"
"SIMON!!" Her voice strained, now with tears rolling down her face. This is the first time I have ever heard her call him anything other than his nickname.
Now they are in a full on shouting match, throwing accusations at one another, from cheating to lying about their past. Clearly, this is turning into something much more serious than it once was.
Suddenly, I heard Romeo crying from his crib, so hesitantly, I go to tend for him while they continue to scream at one another.
I quickly go into his room and shut the door behind me, trying not to let him hear the yelling from his parents. Yes, he may be a baby who wouldn't have a clue what was happening, but that doesn't mean that it wouldn't effect him. Thankfully, they made his room soundproof, so he couldn't hear them at all as long as we stayed inside his nursery.
"Shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhh, hey, hey hey, it's okay, it's okay." I softly spoke to him, as I scooped him up into my arms. "Don't cry, don't cry, you are okay, you are going to be okay."
After a few minutes of shushing him and patting his back gently, he eventually stopped crying, but he clearly still wasn't happy. I held him up to my face level, and start mimicking his cooing noises that he normally makes when he's happy. After a few seconds, he starts making the noises back.
"Yaaay! There you go, now who's a happy boy? Who's a happy bouncing baby boy~?"
He started getting louder with his cooing as I did this, reaching his tiny hands to me.
"Yes, you are! You are just a happy boy!"
I stayed with Romeo for a few more hours in his room, taking care of him. He seems to have me as his favorite 'person' in this household, especially lately, where I have had to take sole care of him as his parents argue, like they have been for the past week. I only left him alone after around 15 minutes of him being asleep. It's now 20:57, and his parents seem to have finally stopped with their bickering and gone to bed.
Memory log 14 - Date: Sept. 22, 2005 - Time: 02:31
I woke up from my charging pod as my internal sensors started going off.
*DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! A PERSON IN THE PREMISES HAS BEEN GRAVELY INJURED!*
Quickly, I get off of the pod and start scanning the area for the person who had gotten hurt.
After a few minutes of scanning the area, I finally had found who it was. It was... Mrs. Mecano. She was laying at the bottom of the steps, bleeding out. She had been shot in the stomach.
As I walked up to her, about to try and stop the bleeding before I called an ambulance, she started talking in a strained and tired voice.
"D-don't.. help me y-yet-" She coughed between her words, blood spilling out of her throat. "G-get.. m-my son.."
"Romeo? You want me to get Romeo?"
"H-he-" she coughed again, now speaking in more urgency. "I fear.. that h-he is next..."
As I realized what she was talking about, I nodded my head and quickly began rushing to his nursery. Who could in their right mind go and shoot a child after shooting their mother? Especially a baby, who could have never done any wrong to any person ever. I gained sight of the nursery door, and it was wide open. Quickly, I ran over and looked inside. A figure was standing above the crib... with a gun. Pointing. At. Romeo.
*TARGET ACQUIRED*
My arm extended from the doorway to the figure, wrapping itself around his arm, making the gun in his hand now aim to the floor. Before I can think, I lifted the arm it was intangled in, and threw it from where it was standing to the railing behind me, causing a giant crack sound to be made. I looked at the figure, now behind me..
"... Master?"
He groaned before speaking, struggling to get up on his feet, using the almost broken railing to lift himself up.
"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT, YOU STUPID ROBOT?! DON'T YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE MASTER IS TRYING TO KILL THAT ANNOYING LITTLE SHI-"
Before he could finish his sentence, I covered his mouth from behind him, having a tight grip on his face as I silenced him. I began talking lowly and slowly, as if I was growling as I spoke.
"I did that because you told me to. You said that my purpose was to take care of Romeo when neither of you could, and to make sure that whatever happens, he would never be harmed. But you. You tried to kill him after almost killing your wife." I moved his head towards the downstairs, facing him to Mrs. Mecano's close to lifeless body. "I may not experience the same emotions or have the same 'morals' as humans do, but I am disappointed in your actions. You are the biggest monster that this town has probably ever seen."
I let go of him entirely, having his full body weight fall onto the railing.
"Now, if you can behave and control your emotions, I'll go and make sure that you didn't hurt your child over a silly argument that wasn't even involving him."
I walk over to the crib and look down. There he is... the sweet baby boy, safe and sound, just sleeping. Unaware of the event that just occurred.
Now that I know that he isn't hurt, I can now call an ambulance and the police for Mrs. Mecano-
*BAM*
The sound of a gunshot going off filled the homes silence, and soon after, Romeo began crying, having woken up by the sudden noise and getting scared. I turned around to face the man with the gun, and-
... he shot himself. His body is laying on the ground, now lifeless. He must have realized what he had done, and what he was about to do next, and out of sudden grief and shock, he shot his brains out.
Okay, okay, there is no way they can be able to save him, but Mrs. Mecano still has potential to be saved. I can still call the ambulance for her, and then everything else will be fine-
"Sorry, your call wasn't able to reach the person you were trying to contact, please check your connection or try dialing a different number-"
"What?? Why would I not be able to call 911?"
I redialed the number, thinking it had to be some sort of mistake.
"Sorry, your call wasn't able to reach the person you were trying to contact, please check your connection or try dialing a different number-"
"Come on!!"
I check outside of the window, and there is no lights on. Anywhere. Not in the streets, not in anyone's windows, no where were lights on. Then I remembered something that made everything click.
They turned the cities power off. They turned it off because the wires connected to everything were getting faulty and too dangerous to not replace. There was a city wide announcement about it a few days ago, and Mr. Mecano knew that. He knew that, and that's why he shot himself. Because he shot his wife, the love of his existence, and there was nothing no one could do to save her.
I realized that Romeo was still crying heavily, with his poor little voice going hoarse. I quickly scooped him up again, and held him close.
I whispered quietly to him, trying to calm him down. "Shhhhhhhh, shhhhh, it's okay, you're okay, you are going to be fine.. I'll make sure of it..."
I headed downstairs towards my now late Masters workshop with Romeo in my arms, desperate to find something, anything, that could help me out with this situation. As I opened the door, my sensors started going off again.
*DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! TOXIC FUMES IN THE AIR! DANGEROUS TO HUMANS AND ANIMALS!*
I quickly closed the door to the workshop, backing away from it as I held Romeo closer to my chest. He wasn't acting like this because he was stressed, or tired, or covering up for something else. He was poisoned while in his workshop. A gas leak broke out and he didn't realize it until it was too late.
I ran out of the house, trying not to get Romeo harmed with the gases as well, because they were bound to spread to the rest of the house overtime. I ran out to the backyard, where I found the ship. The flying ship Mr. Mecano made in case of an 'emergency'. It was to live in, and it could go anywhere in the world given enough power. Thankfully, it had full power and it wasn't going to run out of it for at least twenty years. I board it with Romeo still in my arms, a little fussy but much better than before. I didn't start flying it, as there wasn't a place where Romeo can rest in it. I sat down on the couch in what I believe was the living room of the machine.
What do I do? It's not like I know how to take care of children older than three years old, and I still need a charging pod, yet I don't detect one in here. He can't go back in there, there's too many dangers for a baby to live in there. What to do, what to do...
I held him close to me still, as he fell asleep on my chest.
... I can worry about that tomorrow, I have plenty of power to last through the night.
Memory log 3,663 - Date: Sept. 19, 2015 - Time: 01:42
I was sitting down on the couch, in the living room of the flying machine, charging. When suddenly, I heard a slam from the metal door connected to the living room.
Romeo walked through it, mumbling to himself.
"Stupid PJ masks, ruining my plans for no reason other than 'beINg GoOd'! UUUGH!!"
"Still having trouble figuring out a new plan, Master?"
"No!.. well, yeah. But come on!! It was my greatest plan yet! But noooo! Those PJ Masks need to stop it! AAAAGH, I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM!!" He screamed out, stomping his feet out of frustration.
"I know, I know. Want a hug to let all your frustrations out?" I told him, holding out an arm to him.
Romeo scoffs before speaking in an annoyed tone. "No! What am I, a baby?!"
I continue to hold my arm out to him, closing my eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he quickly crawled into my arms, and begins to reach his arms out to me.
I chuckled softly before picking him up higher. "Thought so, Master. C'mere."
"Quiet, Robot.." He whispered in an embarrassed voice.
I placed him on my chest, where his head rested on my shoulder. He hugged me back, letting out a soft sigh as he let his full body weight on me. I caressed the back of his head and ran my fingers through his hair as I begin to hum.
After a few minutes, Romeo is fast asleep on me, fully relaxed.
To think that you were able to fit in my hands at one point, yet now, doing the same thing that I did when I first met you, you've truly gotten so much bigger..
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Rachel Daly x Millie Bright x Reader
Part Four - Departure
Posted: 22/04/23, Edited: 24/09/23
AN: Thank you to @ac3may for the late night brainstorming sessions for this series 💜
“I’m gonna miss you sooo much!” Rachel whined from the drivers side of the car. “We’re only going for a week Rach!” Millie chimed from the back seat, poking fun at her best friend’s need to have you around 24/7. “You’re not in love, you don’t understand!” your girlfriend snapped in jest, “well that’s a bit rude” Millie muttered to herself barely in earshot but just loud enough that you heard her. “This is the longest we’ve ever been apart!” Rachel’s whining continued as she placed a hand on your knee which you ignored. She’d been determined to wind you up since last night and was getting on your last nerve, “I can’t remember the last holiday I went on” sighing as you continued to daydream out of the window at the passing scenery. “Oh okay, do I not exist? Can nobody hear me?” Rachel looked around the car at the two girls next to her dramatically. Rolling your eyes before turning your head to look at your woman, “so this is my life is it? Stuck to you forever?” your side eye burned a hole in her head partnered with a smirk to show you’re playing with her. “We haven’t even been on holiday together yet and you’re going with Millie! I heard that eye roll by the way. I’ve lost count of how many eye rolls you’ve done during this journey!” Rachel’s tone jokey but extremely jealous you were going away without her. “Oh my god you needy little bitch!” Millie straight face stared at her bestie in the rear view mirror. “Do you know how badly I need a holiday!?” “Yes! You don’t shut up about it! When you get to Champion’s League, then you can have a holiday!” Millie swiped at her causing you to smack a hand over your mouth to hide the giggle coming from within. Rachel’s hand tightened the grip on your knee hearing you trying to hold back your laughter, knowing all too well that once one of you starts laughing, you’re all gonna set off and once you three start, there’s no stopping you. “Well I’m sure you two will have a looovely time without me” Rach continued sarcastically “just think of me when you’re soaking up that sun yeah! You sure as hell need some Brighty!” The banter inside the car was too much for your hand to hold back as the laughs came flooding out of your mouth making the other two to erupt in laughter as well. “In all seriousness though..” Millie leant through the middle to look at Rach “we won’t miss ya!” she mocked, trying her best to act serious but struggled to keep a straight face as Rach attempted to swipe at her behind the seat. “Wooow okay, maybe I’ll find a new best friend and girlfriend while you’re away” she said acting smug with herself. “I’d like to see you try and find someone that’ll put up with all your crap!” you hit back at her as you interlocked your fingers with hers. “I think you’re both being very rude!” Rachel ended in a silly voice as she pulled into the airport car park.
Chelsea lost the first leg of the Champions League semi final which you all watched together the day before. Even though she was injured, Millie was always going to go to Barcelona with the girls but with so many players injured, there was plenty of free space on the plane and she’d managed to blag you on. Who says no to a free holiday? No one, that’s who. Rach had encouraged you into going and was excited until you got in the car this morning and started to act unbearably needy. It was cute really but you liked playing with her, she knew you’d miss her too but at the moment you were having fun with it.
Lugging the bags out of the car Millie walked away to take a phone call leaving you and Rach alone. Sinking into the boot of the car you took a moment to say goodbye “I am gonna miss you yknow” you said stroking her forearm knowing it makes her feel tingly. “Of course I do, you don’t hide it very well” she winked as her elbow prodded your ribs. “Don’t do that when I’m leaving” you shoved her shoulder gently “what? Wink?” she pushed as she winked harder and repetitively in your face causing you to push her away with more force, “okay you ruined the moment! My last memory of you won’t be my hot and sexy girlfriend, it’ll be the pain in the arse I somehow fell in love with!” you laughed. “Oh you know exactly how you fell in love with me” her sultry tone paired with her bedroom eyes came as close to your face as possible without actually touching you, making your stomach do somersaults and resisting her impossible. Grabbing the back of her neck you pulled her into a slow and passionate kiss goodbye.
“Ahem” the sound of Millie making her presence known broke you both apart “we’re boarding, we better go”.
Rachel carried your bag and held your hand tightly through the terminal until you reached the gate where the team were congregated. Passport in hand you hugged your girl as the team filed through border control, there were club photographers and social media personnel everywhere. Assuming Rach wouldn’t want to kiss you on camera you said goodbye and turned to join the queue. You should have known Rachel wasn’t going to have any of that as she grabbed your wrist pulling you back towards her and embracing you one last time, feeling flashes of light on your skin as your lips locked together. “I’ll miss you princess” your speech soft and a little emotional as you tucked her hair behind her ear. “Have an amazing time beautiful, I love you so much” was her response and with that you were swept through to the plane tunnel, “I love you more!” you called out to her as the door closed. “Never” Rachel smiled under her breath, the distance between you already making your love for each other grow fonder, something you didn’t think possible.
Part Five - So Far Removed
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