#I hope they don't disqualify him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gothicfied · 5 months ago

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Hey, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a Dae-ho fic where the reader is apart of his group (with gi-hun and stuff) but used to date Thanos, who is trying to win her back. She asks the boys to help stop her from going back to him cause she can;' help but want to. Later dae ho asks why she dated thanos cause he was toxic and she admits she feels she doesn't deserve better. Dae ho confesses and promises that he will give her better. I don't know if this makes sense, but thanks :)

Why can't I let go? - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x fem!reader (maybe slight Thanos x reader)

Summary: Seeing your ex months after your break up made you question things again, but Dae-ho gave you a reason not to go back to him.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: ~ 1.6k

A/N: hi and thank you sm!! I hope this comes close to what you had in mind (:

What made being in this slaughter house even worse for you, besides the fact that you had to worry about dying every few seconds, was the fact that your literal ex boyfriend somehow also ended up here. Well, actually, you knew exactly why Thanos, as he liked to call himself now, entered the games as well — Not only did he basically bankrupt himself with investing in that stupid crypto currency, no, he took most of your savings too and created unnecessary money problems for you. That was obviously the break-up-reason, although he just wasn't the best boyfriend over all.

His presence already pissed you off when spotting him in the crowd after initially waking up in that uncomfortable bunk bed. Thanos only spotted you when walking up the weird, colorful stairs to the first game. Pushing other players to the side, he made his way up to you and tapped you on the shoulder, non-stop apologizing for what he had done to you. It has been like that since you broke things off with him, but you made the effort to block him on everything and simply not answer the door when he came by every now and then to win you back.

Thanos was annoying and dangerous, as it showed itself in Red-Light-Green-Light. Not only was he a junkie, he was also seemingly ready to sacrifice the life of other people for his own benefit. At first, when Player 456 yelled out that everyone who got 'disqualified' would essentially get shot, you didn't want to believe him. Even Thanos leaned over to you, much to your annoyance, and said "What the fuck is this guy on?". He's one to talk, huh. In the end, when Player 456 was right, you immediately took his advice and voted 'X' during the first voting.

"Thanks for saving us back there." you said to Player 456, hesitantly approaching him and his friend, Player 390. They introduced themselves as Gi-hun and Jung-bae, inviting you to sit down and eat with them. A few moments later another young man dropped down from his bed and agreed with you, also claiming that how Gi-hun acted was heroic. "Why'd you vote like that then?" you asked Dae-ho after he sat down next to you, pointing at the blue badge upon his chest. "Ah, you know," feeling like he got caught, he kept looking away from your eyes, "the money now is not nearly enough to pay off my debts. But, don't worry, I'll definitely vote different next time!" You guys continued talking and even laughing a bit, telling each other about your life outside of here.

You, alongside Jung-bae, found out that he was a marine. Both were actually, immediately finding common ground. Watching them joke around with each other, you couldn't help but smile — Which stopped as soon as you looked to the other side, to the people who voted 'O', and spotted Thanos staring at you. He was clearly not happy with how you voted or the fact that another man made you laugh, even though you only met him a few minutes ago. That's just how Thanos is, you feared: always jealous about someone, worried you're going to cheat on him, but would then flirt with his female fans in the same breath. He always claimed it was because they were his fans and they loved to feel like he was reachable, but that was never a justification for you.

For some reason, that you didn't pay attention to, a little fight between the two sides broke out, and Thanos thought this was the best time to drag you away from all that and talk with you. You saw him stand up and approach you, to which you already shook your head, but when he grabbed your arm and just took you with him, you couldn't do much. "Why would you do that?" he asked you, his eyes staring into yours. "What? What did I do now? Can't you just leave me alone?" You crossed your arms in front if your chest and just looked down at your feet, because, if you were being honest with yourself, when your ex boyfriend looked at you like that.. it kind of did something to you. Perhaps regret your decision.

"Baby, seriously?"

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Come on, I know you love it, princess.."

"Get to the point."

You were annoyed, agitated, but somehow still wanted to hear what he had to say. Thanos huffed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why did you vote like that? If we play just two more games, we could pay off our debts and maybe.. try again?" He grabbed you by your shoulders, shaking you a little so you'd look up at him again. When that didn't work, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tried to pull you close, but that was your breaking point. Forcefully, you ripped yourself out of his grasp and started walking back to your group again: "Don't even start with that. You ruined my life."

In a twisted way, you felt bad. His proposal almost, almost, made you give in. It was just nice to see a familiar face and hear a familiar voice in this environment, it brought you comfort to know that there was someone you shared so many special memories with that you could turn to. And, you would, just if it wasn't Choi Su-bong. "Is everything okay? Was he giving you trouble?" Jung-bae asked, looking like he was ready to fight him. Actually, he was probably ready to fight everyone who voted 'O'. "No.. no, I'm okay." Without another word you sat back down next to Dae-ho, picking away at your fingernails.

"Who is he?"

"What?"

"That guy.. who is he?"

"To me? My ex boyfriend."

The man let out an 'aha', just nodding along. When he looked at Thanos and then back to you, he couldn't really believe it — That purple-haired guy was almost the complete opposite of you. You were pretty, seemed to be kind and gentle and Thanos was just kind of.. Dae-ho would say you're way out of his league. "If he's bothering you, just tell me, okay? I'll take care of it." You looked at the former marine, giving him a smile when noticing that he was serious about that. You thanked him quickly and looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly.

After surviving the second game together, Dae-ho and you have gotten closer incredibly fast. He was mesmerized by you, to say the least, and you appreciated that you had someone to rely on at all times. That still didn't stop Thanos from perusing you, though, it actually was the complete opposite. A few minutes before lights out he tried to talk to you again, following you to your bed, which was right behind Dae-ho's. The two of you slept head to head together, only a metal bar separating the beds.

"Please.. just listen to me! I miss you.. I swear, I'll vote 'X' the next time!" Thanos' annoying voice rang through your ears and no matter how often you told him to leave you alone, he didn't want to understand it. At some point he got annoyed and just walked off himself, sighing and planning to try again next day. With a quiet groan, you let your head fall back against your pillow, Dae-ho watching you the whole time from his side. He felt like it wasn't his place to continue to ask you about the situation when you didn't bring it up yourself, but he was still curios as to why you'd ever be with that guy.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to say something to him next time?"

"No.. It's fine, I can handle it. It's just- complicated, that's all." You were tired, your mind was reeling — People dying was stressful enough and now you had to handle your immature and manipulative ex boyfriend as well. "You don't have to answer this but," Dae-ho tucked some of his hair behind his ears, sitting up so he could properly look at you, "why did you date him? You're too good for him." His little comment made you chuckle, even though he was right and it probably wasn't all that funny. "I don't know.. to be honest, at that time I just felt like I didn't deserve any better."

Dae-ho was appalled by your words, his face scrunching up. How could you even talk about yourself like that? "You do deserve better. You deserve the world." His tone wasn't angry, but definitely a lot firmer than before, showing you that he actually meant what he said. "What?" you asked him, also slowly sitting up now. "I'm serious, you're kind and smart and deserve a better life, a better boyfriend." His words made your heart beat a little faster.

"He doesn't deserve you. I would treat you be-" As soon as Dae-ho noticed what he just said himself, he immediately stopped talking, looking at you with wide eyes. "You would treat me better?" Your voice was laced with amusement, maybe teasing him a little now. That question made him stutter a quiet 'Yeah..' and it was clear how taken aback Dae-ho was from his own words. He didn't want you to know, at least not now. He knew this wasn't an ideal place to develop a crush on a girl he could lose in an instant, but he couldn't control his feelings now, could he?

"A lot better even."

"Then show me.."

#squid game season 2 #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid games x reader #squid games #kang dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #dae ho x reader #dae ho #player 388 x reader #player 388 #player 230 x reader #player 230

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yanadolls · 1 month ago

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FORGET IT. ᯓ

||| FEATURING: NAGI SEISHIRO X READER (IMPLIED RELATIONSHIP)

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 302.

||| THEME: ANGST & FLUFF

||| SUMMARY: nagi returns to his normal life after being disqualified from bluelock, and while he tells himself it's all fine and that he should forget it..he can't suppress his feelings forever. after seeing some students playing soccer, he cracks.

"why didn't i try harder?"

"i should've just chased after them."

"i want to go back."

"i want to come back to that me.. but i can't."

for the first time in nagi's life, he was overwhelmed by his emotions. he wasn't used to feeling so sad. if you told his past self that he would be in the back of the classroom, crying about being kicked out of bluelock and not getting to play anymore, he would laugh at you.

but now..this was his reality.

he had never tried so hard at something, let alone felt so good about it. memories at bluelock were flooding through his mind, refusing to leave no matter how much he had tried to bury them. tears rolled down his cheeks as he sniffled, a despairing and unfamiliar look on his face. he refused to bring his head up. nagi didn't try to push away his feelings anymore, because he knew it wasn't okay and that he couldn't ever forget what he felt there. he enjoyed the hassle of soccer, he enjoyed scoring goals and putting in the effort. why didn't he try harder at the end..? was his talent really withered?

"seishiro..?"

a sudden voice pulled him out of his thoughts, his wounded heart dropping to his stomach. just what he needed right now- you walking in on him being emotional for the first time. nagi mentally berated himself for not holding back his tears till he got home.

"..y/n."

he spoke in a small voice, so unlike his normal one. nagi's head did not raise to meet your gaze. he remained still at the desk, not bothering to try to cover the fact he was crying. it was too exhausting. a knot formed in your tummy as you heard him sniffle a couple times, silently sobbing at the back of the empty classroom. it was rough seeing your boyfriend like this, and you knew what had caused it.

"seishiro, do you want a hug?"

you tried to ignore the way your own heart sunk at the sight as you slowly shut the classroom door, making your way over to where nagi was. you pushed a chair over beside his, before sitting down beside him. nagi didn't answer your question, rather, he slowly brought his head up to look at you, nodding a bit.

and when you saw your face, it was hard not to cry with him.

you have never seen nagi look so miserable, many liquids leaking from his face as he stared at you, bottom lip quivering. the former nonchalant boy was no where to be seen.

"oh, sei.."

a small whimper left his mouth as you tugged him into a gentle hug. he didn't wrap his arms around you at first, just letting you hold him. he did bury his face into your shoulder, however.

"i.. i should've tried harder."

his quiet voice cracked a bit as he took in air, trying not to completely break down. albeit, it was becoming impossible as his heart raced faster and faster, breathing quaking. neither of you expected him to vent his feelings out.

"i want to go back to bluelock, i want to go back to how i was in there.. b-but i can't. i don't want to feel this feeling.."

your one hand rubbed circles into his broad back, other hand moving to run through his hair. tears formed in your own eyes as you struggled to hold back a little choked sob.

"y-you don't know that, seishiro. maybe they'll-"

"no, y/n. it's over."

his voice cut you off quickly, not allowing you to put false hope into his mind. nagi knew ego wasn't that generous, especially after everything the man said about him. his time at bluelock had expired.

"please." he muttered, arms finally snaking around you, "just...don't leave me alone."

it broke your heart.

"sei, i-i would never!"

there was so much you wanted to tell him; you wanted to assure him that maybe, just maybe there would be some way back to bluelock, but that wasn't what he wanted to hear right now. he didn't want to hope for something that may not ever come, as it would crush him more. all nagi wanted right now..was you.

and so you stayed with him, letting him crumble in your embrace as he finally stopped fighting it. you shed a few tears of your own- how could you not? seeing nagi like this was utterly sickening. you didn't try to give him logical answers, instead, you just physically comforted him. it was quite a while before nagi's tears stopped coming out, leaving him with a headache and pure exhaustion.

"can we just go home?"

he muttered against your shoulder, breathing slowly stabilizing. you couldn't give less a fuck about the last period of school. your focus was your mentally tired boyfriend.

"of course, sei."

pushing the door to his small dormitory open, you were greeted with a dark room. nagi lazily trotted over, not even bothering to greet his cactus choki as he fell onto his bed, groaning into his pillow. you closed the door and crawled onto the bed with him, to which he immediately rolled onto his back and pulled you into his strong arms.

"m'sorry." he mumbled as he stared up at the ceiling, "shouldn't have acted like that in front of you. was totally lame."

you shook you head softly, stroking his hair soothingly before pressing a kiss to his forehead. a part of you was happy that he had.

"no, don't say sorry. i'm actually glad you were open with your feelings. it's..different than before. it's more healthy."

"what's healthy about ugly crying on you?"

there was a small pout on his face as his droopy eyes looked down at you. you couldn't help but let out a huff, a tiny smile coming to your lips.

"you're not even an ugly crier, baby. it's healthy that you're finally showing more emotions than, you know, boredom. you're changing a lot, becoming more emotional. it's good."

nagi was quiet for a moment, before groaning one more time. he turned on his side and buried his face in your hair.

"sounds like a pain. changing feels bad.. don't like feeling sad."

he paused for a second.

"but at least i still have you. can't take that away from me."

a bigger smile made its way onto your face. it was obvious that nagi was still very bummed about bluelock, and that wasn't going to change for a while. however, the fact that you were here was comforting his destroyed soul bit by bit. nagi wonders what he would be feeling if you weren't here.

"how about i order us some food and we watch a show for the rest of the night? i can sleep over."

by the way nagi's dull eyes finally lit up a bit, it seemed like he enjoyed that idea. his chapped lips pressed to your head.

"i'd like that. thank you."

you tilt your head up, giving him a small peck on the lips.

"of course, lovely."

there were a lot of things nagi would have to work through for the next couple weeks, but with you by his side, everything felt a bit less shittier. nagi had a small, rare smile on his face as he cuddled you for the night, letting his troubles and worries float away. your support made him feel like maybe..it wasn't the end of the world. maybe there were solutions.

maybe his soccer career wasn't over.

AN: lowkey was SOO sad writing this, the new chapter broke my heart :< i'm praying that they don't just discard nagi's character, as i feel like this depressing arc for him could make him much stronger of a player. crossing my fingers tho !!

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chishiyasbiscuits · 9 months ago

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simon says! || chishiya x reader xo

[3.8k words.]

[Warning: Smut, your casual riding, very casual. No extra kinks, I don't believe? Any extra warnings, do inform, please, and thank you!]

[This is a long one to initiate my return. I'm proud of this one, and excited to share, I haven't written with Chishiya in a year, and I'm hoping my literary skills have increased. Please do enjoy. Lots of love xo]

Why did we, as humans, feel the need to consume the earth? Why do most believe our calloused fingertips were created to grip, and clutch, and control. Why are some of us prone to obeying, and others, not?

Niragi shifts his shoulder, and the rifle brushes the clothed skin of his bicep. His brows furrow, and knit with a wire of concern, but mainly, uncertainty.

Niragi orders, and he instructs. He would never follow. He's higher on the ladder of obedience, consuming all beneath him. He hitches, and tenses. "What the hell is this?" He curses. There's an unattractive scowl upon his parted lips.

Chishiya lowers his head, repressing his smirk. He was knowingly aware, all of the time, and it had frustrated me. How it must feel to never be caught off-guard?

The screens were lightening, and the words scrawled along them began to flicker. It was no longer a matter of seconds, the game was beginning, and now. Kuina neared me, her shoulder couldn't have brushed mine. She was at least a head taller than me, and I had to tilt my chin to catch the way her unlit cigarette had pressed, cautiously, along her pursed lips. She was focused, but unsure. The air had thickened with an unfamiliar silence.

Her eyes darkened. I stole a glance toward Arisu, and Usagi. Theirs had too. Arisu was thinking, hard. The cogs spurring before a game had even been established.

"Game title." The female voice was mechanical, as always. "Simon Says." Completely devoid of emotion, monochromatic sentences strung across the screen. "Rules." She began. I could hear the spur of breaths, deepening, quickening. Some slowing, others hitching. Others ceasing, as if they had mentally pulled the plug on themselves. Kuina was stagnant. Her fingertips pressed along the faux cigarette, and she rolled her thumb, and forefinger patiently. She had barely brought her lashes down into a blink. Niragi was unamused. I could only infer what he had been doing before the speakers had begun. Flashes of static had rounded the sheep of the beach. The population all eyes, and ears. Excitement, and uncertain fear.

Chishiya's lips had rose smoothly. I swallowed drily, in return. It was almost frightening how nonchalantly he slid his fisted palms into his pockets, and rested his clothed spine, and head along a nearby pillar. His chest lifted, and fell softly. There wasn't a sign of distress, or anxiety, not within his stance, or the light flecks within his searching eyes.

"To pass this game, one must obey the screen's orders. Each specified amount of minutes, the screen will have a new rule for the participants to follow. Failure to do so will result in the player being disqualified."

I had audibly released a long-held sigh. My shoulders relaxed, softly slumping. It wasn't so bad. Obey, really, and that's all. The only hint of difficulty would be for the lions, and tigers of this food chain. Niragi, I hummed, Aguni, too.

"The first rule will be displayed shortly."

The screen flickered. I wrapped my arms over my waist, my fingertips digging, deep, into the dents of my ribs, and leaving reddened, crescent-shaped marks. Chishiya was eyeing me, curiously, but I had refused to give in, and lock eyes. I swallowed, again, and strained my stare, until my irises burnt, and stung, as if there were rogue flames flittering from the screens.

"Simon Says, make the area around you empty of participants."

The silence faltered, and fragmented quickly. Shattering, as if our focus was a china plate, and the screen was a rampant bull. "What does that even mean?" Someone called to her peers. "You have five minutes to follow this rule."

She shrieked, lightly. Her eyes wide, and doe, like an animal in brightened headlights. She stilled, and the man beside her clasped her shoulder, and shook her. "What does it mean?" He was both frustrated, and urgent. Spit coating his chapped lips.

"It means you're all dead, fuckers!" Niragi snorted, raising his rifle from his shoulder, and aiming the tip toward the ceiling. He shot once, and then twice, until his prey had begun to scatter, and shuffle about each other like pigeons rushing from a nearing car. He slung the weapon forward, and took aim. Ruthlessly letting the sharp tips of his bullets become blood-stained, as they embedded themselves into the bare flesh of his victims.

I cursed beneath my quickening breath. Niragi had knocked at least twelve residents to the floor, and the remaining participants had either fled, or had begun slaughtering those surrounding them, as Niragi had implied would be the meaning attached to the rule.

Kuina was long-gone. Arisu, and Usagi, and Chishiya, too. I thought deeply, and began to raise my pace. I neared a pillar, and rounded it cautiously. Slipping through entwined bodies, pushing past the shoulders of injured players. Sweat, and blood, and possibly tears had coated the skin of my palms. I winced. Brushing them along the lower cloth of my swimsuit. I was inside, now, and the screams had been muffled by thick, concrete walls. They faded, softly, yet not so softly. It was eerily quiet, and desolate, as my aching soles brushed the carpet beneath me. I slowed to a still. Stagnant. Chasing after my own, spent breath.

"Time is up." The voice radiated, like heat, throughout the architecture. I dared soften my features, and the tensing muscles of my calves. I leant along a wall, the plaster chipped, and leaving eggshell pieces against the small of my back. "Congratulations, to those who have survived."

I had figured, really, quite early on, that the rule was simple. The corridor was empty, and I was safe. Easy. These games had always urged for violence, through leading the participants in a false direction, but those who knew, knew that these types were often overcome easily, with no need for death. The remaining participants had conformed, wrongly.

"Your next rule: Simon Says, engage in sexual intercourse with the first person you see. You have ten minutes to find a partner. Failure to do so, and failure to begin initiating sexual intercourse within this time limit will lead to your disqualification."

My brows arched, and my features had become sharp, and thinly layered with sweat. It was an odd rule for this game, and for any game, really, but I had no time to ponder. I had to obey, whether it stretched my moral grounds, or my boundaries. I had to live, and dying for the reason of not wanting to have sex would be an embarrassing way out.

I sighed, and began to walk. Slowly, at first, as if I were hesitant. I picked at my cuticles, and lightly chewed my lower lip, as I searched the upper floor. I was both curious, and afraid of who I may come across first, and had pleaded, with all the strength my limbs could give, that it wouldn't be Niragi. I wasn't sure if I did, truly, have someone in mind. Out of the residents here, who would I fuck? That's an outrageous question to think over. My vision was blurred, and my head fogged. I couldn't begin to think, even if I had wanted to.

"Interesting."

"What?" I inhaled, sharply. My lungs felt as though they were two sizes too small for the oxygen I needed to consume. I winced at the ache, and turned, cautiously, on the heel of my foot.

"Chishiya?" I swallowed a breath. I searched him, traced his features, and scanned up, and down his stance. He perked a brow. His smirk was soft, but smug. His head fell, ever so slightly, to the side as he spoke. "What a nice surprise, hm?"

He was quiet, but amused. Repressing the urge to chuckle through his nostrils. His palms were hidden, comforted by thick cotton. He blinked, slowly, peering at me through his thick, dark lashes.

My limbs were red-hot, and pulsing. My stomach knotted, over, and over, and then wringed itself out like a dirty, damp dishcloth.

"Do you want us both to die?" He questioned, after a few seconds of silence. I swallowed, and shook my head, quietly. "Why would I? That's silly."

His lip quirked higher. "What's truly silly is that you're wasting time, when you could be having sex with me."

He was smug with the reaction. My cheeks heating. Tinted a faded red. My lips parted, only for silence to ensue. I was stilled. Thoroughly shaken by his careless words. Lazy, but sexual. Chishiya was never sexual. My heart quickened its pace, beating roughly against my ribs. They felt as though they were closing in, and shrinking. Squeezing my organs, tightly.

He clicked the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and neared me. His hands still encased within the cloth of his pockets. I remained stagnant, until his shoulder met mine. They brushed, and his head dipped low. The stray strands of his hair, that had fell from within his hood, were feathery, and light along my jaw. His breath was warm. Gentle across my cheek, and the shell of my red-tinted ear. "Would you rather me initiate?"

I'm certain he was well aware of the answer. He was toying with me, though. Urging the return from between my lips. My lower stomach tightened. He hummed, questioningly. My knees had threatened to buckle, lightly shaking, as I ran my tongue along my lips. He wanted to see how far he could push me, taunt me, tease me. "If you're really so desperate, Chishiya?" I smiled, coyly, tilting my chin upward, and twisted to the side. My eyes met his, irises dilating beneath my lashes. His smirk had only become more enticing. Stretched softly across his cheeks. His eyes were lazily flickering between mine. Searching, searching. He was amused, his utmost interest had been piqued.

"Didn't think you'd like this sort of thing, Chishiya." His name rolled alluringly from the tip of my tongue. His brow twitched. "Hm. Is that so?" He dragged. "What made you think such a thing, Y/n?" He returned, within the same manner. My name a low, tempting whisper. I watched his full lips form the sentences, absent-mindedly wetting my own. He was following me, carefully. Matching the behaviour I had allowed him to see.

He tilted forward, ever so slightly, his lips parting. It was subtle. My jaw ticked. "Let's take this somewhere private. I'd much prefer if we weren't interrupted."

For a second, I was expecting him to kiss me, and I'm sure he had read the belief, as if I were an open book. He smirked harder, if that could have been possible. "We can't waste time kissing, unfortunately." He watched me, closely. His stare hardening. The words had left his lips so sincerely, I couldn't help but startle, and choke on the breath I had been gathering. "We have five minutes, and I have to be inside of you for the initiation to count."

Was this truly happening? My brain was static. He raised a palm, and waved it, side to side, before my blank expression. "Have you turned off?" He teased. "I was hoping for the opposite."

"No, no." I shook my head, and swallowed. Straightening my spine, and composing myself. This is life or death, Y/n.

We were quick, or as quick as Chishiya could be. He was nonchalant, too careless to truly be affected by the entire premise of this sex, and violence fuelled game. I was nervous, on the other end. Cursing at myself for not having had any liquid courage before the screens had fell. I was itching at my wrist, and making the bones within my fingers click. Trailing the tip of my tongue along my inner cheek, and chewing on the skin of my lower lip.

He was beneath me now; on the bed of a resident, I could only assume had been slaughtered. His head was leant along the wooden bedframe, his upper body was propped up, by his clothed elbows being buried within the mattress. His fingers raised, and wrapped lightly around the rim of his hood. His chin dipped, and then raised, as the cloth fell along his tousled hair. "Do you want to stop, now?" He questioned, as he watched me, still, rested on his hips. My thighs either side of him, caging his clothed pelvis. "No, I want you." I returned, confidently. My breath faltered, when his brow had flickered upward. "I never asked if you had wanted me, Y/n." He was being cocky, now. Smirk edging along his lips, silently. His features were soft, no sharpened lines, or angles. He was gorgeous beneath this dim light. Eyes dark, and lidded, lips wet, and full. Beneath me.

I smiled, smugly. "Don't be cocky, Chishiya." He sent me an amused look. "Didn't think you were the type to be a pillow prince." I teased, regaining myself. I shuffled forward, pressing my heat down, between his parted legs. He hadn't reacted, though the muscles within his thighs had tensed. His head fell softly, with a light thump. "Ah, you're switching the subject, Y/n."

His palms were fished from his pockets, half-heartedly, and hung themself over the skin of my hips, like loose cloth. His grip wasn't tight. His fingertips feathery, as he rolled his thumb across the exposed flesh, dipping beneath the thin fabric of the swimsuit.

"Just ride me." He spoke, far from affected by the lewd sexuality of his request. The words should have been desperate, but he had uttered them so listlessly. He was languid, as he squeezed my upper thigh with his cupped palms, pulling the thin strip of fabric from my hips with his curled fingers.

I bucked forward, subtly. Pushing my clothed, aching clit along the slowly forming bulge. I could feel it, now. His cock, beneath his swim shorts, pulsing beneath me. It was heated, where I was settled on his crotch. His shorts had been filled well, tightening each time I had slid my hips forward, teasingly.

I raised myself, and he slid the remaining cloth down my thigh, gently brushing them as he did so. He squeezed, lightly, cupping the thick flesh. I could see his bulge, now. The outline. My breath hitched, clit swollen, and desperate. He knew, of course he knew. He was smug with what he had done to me. He smiled, in a self-satisfied way.

He watched me, carefully, eyes never threatening to leave my own, as he led his palm beneath his shorts, and held himself. His grip tightened, and then he pulled himself from beneath the cloth. He was watching curiously, now, smirk stretching. He wanted to see my features contort. Wanted to see how I had reacted to his cock, hardening further, in his hand. He was above average, only slightly, but enough for the saliva to build within my cheeks, and my tongue. I swallowed, as if his cock was already stuffing my jaws, and his cum was dripping down my throat. I shamelessly clenched around the thin air, resisting the urge to buck forward, and violate the oxygen particles surrounding us.

"You're not hiding much, Y/n." He speaks, lowly, lifting his cupped palm, excruciatingly slow along his shaft. The tip of his thumb pressed along his slit, and rolled softly, collecting the loose drips of pre-cum. "You really do want me, don't you?"

My eyes drop, unable to hold his stern, yet taunting stare. He sighs, exhales, quietly. "Don't just watch me."

He drops his arm, and his empty fingers find solitude within his pockets, once more. His cock is standing, and curved toward his abdomen. Neglected, yet prepared to be buried deep inside of you. Chishiya watched, blinking slowly. Lethargically. Of course, he isn't the type to take the majority of the action. I push a breathy whimper down the tightening confines of my throat, as he holds the base of his cock with one palm, and steadies himself. Allowing me to sink onto his cock, his swollen, leaking tip spreading me wide, and then wider, as I had sunk further down his shaft.

He was stretching me. Stagnant, his hips remained low. It ached, and stung, yet the displeasure was temporary. I was quickly reminded of how deep the man beneath me was, inside of me. His cock sucked, tight, between my walls. I clenched, and he twitched. I could only imagine his fists were balling up within his pockets. My own, were clutching the fabric of his hoodie between my fingertips. He smirked, knowingly. "This isn't about the game, is it, Y/n?" He questioned, softly, watching lazily, as I had begun lifting, and dropping myself down on him.

"What." I breathed, shakily. My clutch tightened. His cock slid, so effortlessly, plunging back inside of me, each time I had sunk down, after lingering with his tip between my folds. It was an attempt to tease him. Drag a whimper from between his cockily parted, dampened lips.

"It's not about the life, or death here." He expanded, searching me, with a glint of pride within his darkened irises. "The way you're using me to satisfy you so desperately. It's genuine."

I scoff, with the little breath I had within my expanding, and shrinking lungs. My chest heaved, with each bounce. "You think I want to fuck you?"

He was quiet, but had a knowing look across his features.

"No, no. I'm doing this so I don't die." I argue between ragged breaths. It was difficult to think straight, and to reply coherently, when he was stuffing me so well. So, so full. He pulsed inside of me, my walls tightening around his cock as he dipped, in, and out, in, and out. My lower lip slid between my teeth. My eyes rolling beneath my eyelids.

Chishiya smirked to himself, tilting his chin backward, as his blinking faltered, and his lashes fluttered. He raised his hips upward, in a way, as if he were repositioning himself. No moan, no whimper, no grunt, or groan. If you had listened closely, you could hear his breath pick up pace, but that was all. The exposed part of his smooth chest raised, softly. Falling, quickly. The zipper struggled against his expanding lungs, and dipped downward, revealing his chest, even more.

He was so unbothered, even as he had me slamming down on his balls, sucking his entire cock between my plush, clenching walls. I dropped harder, and faster, drawing a slight breath from between his lips. Relieved, and satisfied. His dampened palms left his pockets, and drew softly, up, and down the heated skin of my waist. I hummed, biting back a surfacing moan.

He sighed. "I saw you walk upstairs, and into the third corridor, before the second rule had begun." He was watching me, contentedly, as if were expecting something from me. A reaction, or an answer. My brain was misted, and fogged, like the windows would surely be if we were in a car, right now.

I furrowed my brows, a sensation circling my lower stomach, like a sneeze preparing on the tip of my tongue.

"You..." I swallowed. "You knew where I was?"

He lowered his head, a lethargic nod. He was smirking, still, and searching me, expectantly.

"S...so..." I stammered, racking the mess of my brain, like my IQ had been rearranged, just as my guts were being. I was almost slurring, his cock drawing a drunk effect on my mind.

He didn't correct me, or urge me, or return. He simply laid back, thumbs tracing the dips within my hip. Gladly appreciating the heat, and pleasure I had given him. His eyes had dipped, for the first time tonight, lightly flittering over the outline of his cock in my lower stomach. Pride.

I was left to infer. He had known where I was, before the second rule had begun. He had bumped into me, or had he? Had he found me, knowingly. My eyes lit, and caught his gaze, once more. My lips parted. His lips rose.

He wanted to find me.

"You wanted to find me?" I questioned, falteringly. The ball in my stomach was knotting tighter, and was prepared to be undone. He lifted himself, once, twice. Effortless. Angling himself, so that the tip of his cock had pressed the deepest it had been, brushing my g-spot. Teasing an orgasm with each listless stroke. He was breathing harder, now, head brushing the wooden frame, and focused, entirely on drawing an orgasm from deep inside of me. I was slack-jawed, muscles tensing. My eyes were lured to the back of my head. His hair was messy, his lips parted, his eyes half-lidded. Cheeks a faded red, the smooth expanse of his revealed chest shiny with a thin sheen of sweat.

The air was thick with tension, but quiet, bar the breathing, the soft whimpers, low groans, and slapping, dampened skin.

"Chish...Chishiya." I moaned, loudly. Eyes screwing shut, as the ball in my stomach loosened, and each, and every muscle and limb I had possessed tensed, and pulsed with rushing blood. My walls squeezed the girth of his cock, as he slid back inside of me, luring a deep, breathy groan from the man beneath me. His eyes closed, and his brows furrowed sharply, his lips parting, yet his jaw was loose. He even looked calm, and unaffected during his orgasm.

I watched in awe, breathless. Unable to string any two words together, but I was certain he was able to. He swallowed, eyes drifting to the far corner, before tracing my features. "I found you, on purpose." He spoke. No stutter, or stammer, or slur. I blinked. My lips still parted; I was sure to be catching flies.

He inhaled, and exhaled, accordingly. "You were the first person I could think of that I wouldn't have minded doing this with." His head had fallen to the side, his hair dropping to frame his jaw. He smirked. "Thanks, I guess?" I answered, uncertainly. I wasn't too sure whether he had just complimented me, or not.

He chuckled breathily, through his nostrils, chest jerking. "You can get off now."

"Oh...oh, right, yeah." I blinked back my daze, and lifted myself from his half-hard cock, and dropped myself, gently, beside him. The covers were pleasingly cool, in contrast to Chishiya's warm crotch, though I wouldn't have minded being above him longer.

He glanced at me knowingly. Reading me, as if there were printed black letters across my forehead.

If we survive this game, this won't be the last time he finds me above him. I know that, and he does, too. Almost, as if he yearns for it, just as much as I do.

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland smut #smut #chishiya #chishiya x reader #chishiyasbiscuits

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kitscutie · 2 years ago

Text

snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!

word count: 2.3k

find part one here!

join my taglist here!

Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.

Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.

The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.

Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.

"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.

"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.

"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.

"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.

"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.

"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.

"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.

Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.

His seat.

Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.

"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.

"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.

"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.

"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.

"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.

"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.

"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.

"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.

"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.

"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.

"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.

"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.

Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.

"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.

"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.

"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.

"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.

"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.

"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.

You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.

You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.

"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.

"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.

"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.

"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.

"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.

"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.

"It's not?" He asked, now curious.

"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.

"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.

"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.

"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.

"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.

"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.

"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.

"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.

Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.

"Okay." You retreated.

"Okay and?" He asked.

"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.

"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.

You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.

Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.

At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.

"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.

"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."

"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.

"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.

"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.

Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.

You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.

A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.

You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.

You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.

"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.

It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.

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#coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger game fic #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader

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artstennisracket · 3 months ago

Text

Cult of Sluts i will add the disclaimer that i by no means represent alpha kappa alpha inc. and this is purely fiction. also want to thank @lvrrgirlll for adding to my inspo and @asheepinfrance for always being a lovely beta reader <3

patrick x fem reader

cw: nsfw (18+), verbal abuse, toxicity

You already knew it was coming. It was in the back of your mind the entire pledging process. The frequent missed calls and texts from Patrick were becoming your new normal. Playing an endless game of phone tag. But you couldn’t tell him anything. You couldn’t tell him where you were or what you were doing until the process was complete, you didn’t want to be disqualified before you even reached the finish line. As soon as you finally crossed line for the Illustrious Iota Gamma chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha, you knew you had to tell him.

You knew how Patrick felt about sororities. He thought they were cults specifically designed to supply fraternities with drunk party girls (aka he just thinks they’re all whores).

But you weren’t going to let your boyfriend’s opinion stop you. You’ve always wanted to be a part of a bigger community during and after college so it was a no brainer.

You decided to break the news over facetime one night after Patrick had actually won his match earlier in the day. So he was in a good mood. Perfect.

“Hey so I actually have to tell you something,” you start. You try to keep doing your makeup at the same time to keep your mind occupied.

“Does it have something to do with why you’re getting ready to go out tonight?”

You didn’t tell him you were going anywhere, you just said you were doing your makeup for fun because he doesn’t like when you go out partying without him.

“I never said I was going out tonig-“

“Do you think i’m fucking stupid or something? When you do your makeup for fun you always use fun colors on your eyes. That’s not what you're doing right now, that’s going out makeup.”

You let out a sigh. That good mood didn’t last long, but when does it ever? Okay maybe you shouldn’t have tried to lie but either way you were going to be berated.

“Yes I’m going out tonight and I joined a sorority,” no point in tip toeing around it anymore.

There’s silence for a moment. Somehow that’s worse than the reaction you expected, Patrick’s never silent. Quite the opposite actually.

You stop doing your makeup and look at where your phone is propped up against some text books, “Hello? Did you hear what I said?”

“What did you say?” He asks but not in the “I didn’t hear you” way but in the “What the fuck did you just say to me” way.

You clear your throat and say it again, “I joined a sorority.”

And then all hell breaks loose.

You’ve learned to tune him out whenever he gets like this because listening to him is exhausting. So you let him argue with himself essentially.

It’s a series of things like: “So that’s why you kept missing my calls for the last month”, “You lying fucking bitch,” “I knew I couldn’t fucking trust you,” “Now your gonna go parade yourself like a slut at all these frat parties huh,” “Only sluts join sororities.” And then he hung up.

You really didn’t want this to ruin your night and you didn’t have the energy to argue so you put on some music and finished getting ready.

The next couple of days don't get any better.

It’s the same tune, same song, whatever the saying is, but Patrick is still pissed. Anytime you call to talk about anything he always brings up that you joined a cult of sluts and he hopes you’re happy with your decision. Oh and that you better not be fucking any frat bros.

You try to bring up that his best friend Art is in a frat and he seems to have no problem with that, but Patrick dismisses the comment saying “It’s different, I’m not fucking Art.” Which is definitely questionable…

So you stop answering his calls. But eventually though he chills out, as you expected. Starts leaving you voicemails like “I’m really sorry baby. I was overreacting, please call me back. I miss you.”

So you decide to click accept when he facetimes you one night while you’re studying in your dorm.

“You look really good,” is the first thing he says.

You dead pan the camera, showing your unamusement.

So he cuts to the chase. He clears his throat, “I’m really sorry for acting like a dick, it’s wasn’t that big of a deal. I was overreacting.” He’s outside somewhere, smoking as always. It looks like he propped his phone up against a window sill.

You really wish you could hold your ground and stay mad. But it’s Patrick. You can never stay mad at him. And he looks really fucking good right now.

You nod, “It’s fine, let’s just move on.”

“I’m coming to see you next week.”

And there it is. That’s why he wanted to put his huge fucking ego to the side for one second. He didn’t want you to be mad at him when he came.

Fast forward to the week Patrick comes to visit. He’s been super lovey and a little clingy to be honest. He even brought you a flower that he picked on his way to your school. That was really fucking sweet and you couldn’t stay mad at him even if you tried.

You convinced him to come to a party your sorority was throwing together with your brother fraternity. Free booze was enough to convince him.

You guys are having a good time partying, drinking, dancing. Patrick is enjoying this party a lot for someone who “hates” greek life.

You two had split up a bit ago and now you were dancing with a few of your sorority sisters.

“Did you guys see the tennis guy here tonight? He’s kind of hot,” Shelby, one of the girls you’re dancing with, says.

You’re drunk but not that drunk. Maybe she just saw him. But how would she know he plays tennis from just looking at him?

“Oh my gosh yes! With the dark curly hair? He’s so fucking tall and he’s really funny! He asked for my number!” Ava adds, shouting over the music that’s blasting through the house.

“Me too! Well he actually asked for my instagram,” Lia laughs. They’re all drunk but also a tad fake, it seems like they’re kind of fighting over Patrick but little do they know.

You’ve only known these girls for a few months and you’ve mentioned Patrick in name but never in pictures.

“Hahaha…” You laugh and it’s the fakest laugh you’ve ever done, “I’ll be right back, wanna get another drink.” You leave to find your boyfriend.

Sure enough, there he is. Arm resting above his head to hold himself up, while another girl stands directly next to him, looking at him.

She’s giggling and blushing and Patrick is doing that stupid fucking smirk that made you fall for him in the first place.

Why can’t you guys ever have a good night?

You storm over there and without thinking you throw the rest of your drink in his face.

The girl yelps running away at the same time Patrick yells, “What the fuck?”

He pulls off his t-shirt, using it to dry his face.

“Don’t what the fuck me! You’re flirting with half the girls on campus, what the fuck Patrick!” You yell back.

He finishing wiping his face off and hangs his damp t-shirt around his neck, “You’re a crazy fucking bitch you know that? You’re the one that joined a cult of sluts. You all look the fucking same, how was I supposed to know that wasn’t you huh?”

“So you flirted with at least three different girls and you thought they were all me? Now you must think I’m fucking stupid,” You bite back, referencing the argument he made when you first told him you were in a sorority.

“You are fucking stupid, joined this dumbass club to fuck dumbass frat boys—“

You cut him off, you’re voice still raised, “I don’t want to fuck frat boys! Why can’t you get that through your thick fucking skull. I want to fuck you dumbass!”

Reassurance. Something you never thought he needed. Patrick had always been egotistical from the day you met him. His ego always walked into room before him. It never occurred to you that long distance was actually hard for him, maybe he was feeling a little insecure.

You assumed that he assumed he was the best you’ve ever had. Never needing that assurance from you because who would leave the best they’ve ever had?

So when this convoluted version of reassurance stumbles past your lips you don’t expect that hint of validation you see in Patrick’s eyes.

In a split second he pulls you in so you guys are making out. A drunk mess of tongue and teeth.

Onlookers disappointed seeing as they expected the fight to go on longer, maybe even witness a messy breakup but instead all they got was a messy makeout.

You stumble into the nearest bedroom which happens to be empty (thank god).

You don’t know whose clothes disappear faster, yours or Patrick’s. But it’s not long before you’re sat on his lap while he pushes into you.

“Fuck baby, so tight,” He moans out as he bottoms out.

“Missed you,” You draw in a breath. Taking Patrick with no prep is not easy, you’re sure you’ll feel it in the morning.

You pull him in for another make out session as you grind down on his cock, riding back and forth in quick motions.

Biting your bottom lip, he eventually pull away and starts fucking up into you, growing impatient, “Fuck I missed you so much, missed your pussy so much, shit.”

He’s fucking up into you while you’re matching his pace, slamming down to meet his thrusts. His hips starts stuttering which means, “I’m gonna cum baby, ‘m gonna cum, oh fuck—” He groans as he spills inside you and his movements come to a halt.

You didn’t expect to cum, drunk sex with Patrick is half and half. Sometimes he’s angry, like tonight, and just fucks you hard and fast. Other times, more infrequently, he’s super lovey and touchy and dopey. He eats you out for what feels like hours. Even once you finish, he keeps going. Maybe he’ll add some fingers too. Overstimulating you until you finish again and again and again.

So you’ll let him make it up so you in the morning. He pulled out and laid you down in the bed while he went to look for something to clean you up.

“That was quick,” You say mockingly as he approaches with a rag he found in the bathroom.

He stops his approach, “Okay well the you can clean yourself up then.” He tosses the rag lightly at your face.

You giggle cleaning yourself up, “But did I lie?”

He pulls his boxers back on before he lays next to you on the bed, “Fuck off. Go fuck one of the frat boys then,” He says while crossing his arms in from of chest.

You curl up next to him, uncrossing his arms so you can lay on his chest, “We’ve been over this, I only want you Patrick.”

He smirks, “I know, just wanted to hear you say it.”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever you say Patrick.”

#mel writes✍🏾#challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #stanford patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig x y/n #patrick x you #patrick x reader #challengers smut

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chilling-seavey · 11 months ago

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A request for George after his win! Surprising him with lingerie underneath your outfit when he gets back to Monaco

↳ A/N Thank you for this, anon! I know you sent it after Austria but I wasn't quite feeling inspired until the events of his Belgian weekend. I know you must have been hoping for elation but we can't have the highs without the lows. This came of it (and was a great way to purge my feelings-)

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 3.8k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, oral (m receiving, kinda deep throating?), slight cum play, desecrating items that loosely symbolize the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 team after the heartbreak of Sunday, July 28th, this is also incredibly unedited so don't come for me if it sucks LOL

George felt so out of place returning home empty handed. It was as if his mind hadn’t processed what the fuck had happened. That morning, getting into the car, his goal was a podium at best. Suddenly, he had found himself on top step of all places after a risky one-stop race he managed to pull off against all odds. Then, in the midst of his elation, the news broke that he was disqualified for his car being 1.5kg underweight.

He could still feel the weight of the trophy in his hands, the shiny gold metal under his lips, the rapid thudding of his heartbeat in his ears as he was caught in the arms of his team. The team that had betrayed him with an underweight car and being the cause of his beautiful first place trophy to be snatched from his hands. Oh, God, he swore his heart had never hurt this badly after a race before in his entire career. Anger and sadness were a toxic, cruel mix.

It was a blessing and a curse that it was now summer break. On one hand, it gave him a good amount of time to catch his breath, recharge, and come back ready to fight. On the other hand, his disqualification left a pit in his stomach that he was going to be stuck feeling for the following three weeks until he could rewrite himself a new race. The whole flight back to Monaco, he just wanted to get home and curl into a ball and rot for three weeks. He angrily ranted in his head that he didn’t want to see another statistic, another car, another person until Zandvoort, dammit.

But then he saw you, sitting in the warm light of the dining room when he stepped across the threshold of your modest apartment. He saw you and all the tension in his body just melted and he thanked God that you were his person he could see for the next three weeks.

Of course, you knew what had happened. If it wasn’t thanks to the plethora of Formula 1 news and updates that were filling up your phone, it was the emotional texts from George, the tearful phone call from his drivers room, that undeniable connection you had to him that made your heart absolutely ache for him. The moment he stepped inside, you were shutting your laptop and taking the few quick strides across the hardwood floor and throwing your arms around him.

He melted into your arms like butter.

You instinctively slid your hands around his back, rubbing along his spine, feeling him exhale in your embrace like he hadn’t been able to breathe the whole trip home. His strong arms wrapped around you tightly, burying his face in your neck with a shaky inhale as if trying to pull you into all of his senses.

“Oh, my love…” you cooed gently, tangling your hand in the back of his hair to scratch your fingers through the roots consolingly, “You’re home.”

George held onto you for a moment longer, accepting the comfort of your embrace, “Yeah.”

You pulled away just far enough to share a fleeting chasté kiss, your hands naturally finding each others between your bodies. You pressed another kiss to his cheek as his eyes drifted over your shoulder to look across the apartment. On the console table in the living room sat his trophy from Brazil and his trophy from Austria. Beside them, the empty space looked miles wide. It was supposed to be a trio. He had made it a trio.

He shut his eyes for a moment again in frustration and exhaustion, “I just want to sleep. Forget today ever happened.”

You studied his downcast gaze for a moment, the way he stared at your joint hands, your thumbs caressing his knuckles. In a whisper, you pitched in a soft light tone, “I was hoping we could celebrate…like we usually do after a podium or a win…”

George let out a dry laugh, “There’s nothing to celebrate, love.”

“Yes, there is.” you insisted strongly, “This is still your win, no matter what the FIA says. That’s bullshit. This was the best race of your career and you won it on your own merits.”

“What do I have to show for it?” he retorted almost sharply, as if he didn’t want to talk about this anymore, “Nothing. Lewis got his 105th P1 trophy and I got nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” you insisted, “He got your P1 trophy. It was gifted to him, not earned.”

George’s shoulders slumped, and he mumbled, “It just hurts so bad.”

“I know. I feel it too.” you breathed, “My heart breaks for you. I wish there was something I could do to take away your hurt.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” George sighed, defeated, stepping away from you to head farther into the kitchen to fetch himself a glass from the cupboard. “The rules are the rules. It’s a brutal sport and sometimes, honestly, it’s fucking unfair. There’s nothing either of us can do to make any of this feel better.”

You leaned forward on the peninsula countertop, watching as he poured himself a glass of water. His face was still stone and flat despite the flush of his cheeks from the hurricane of emotions stirring within him for the last however many hours. He didn’t deserve this. Despite everything, you knew that there was something you could do to at least take his mind off of the chaos and upset of the day. Your lips pursed in thought and then you replied to his statement in a blasé tone, “Fine. Then I guess I shouldn’t bother with your surprise.”

He perked up a little, almost like a dog, his eyes snapping back over to you as he stopped pouring, “What surprise?”

You shrugged modestly and took a step back from the counter, letting your hands fall to your sides, “Oh, nothing. You don’t want to celebrate so…”

“Well, hold on a second,” George put the water filter back in the fridge and closed it so he could give his full attention to you. The peninsula stretched between you, the clink of his glass on the countertop the only sound for a moment. He spoke again, eyes trained on you, “You got me something?”

“Of sorts.” you took another step away, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I’ll show you, but you’re not up for it so…”

George’s eyes followed the movement of your hands as you started to pull up the bottom of your shirt, his eyebrows slowly raising with it in anticipation. You finally dropped your shirt to the ground, revealing the lacy teal bra you wore, the fabric standing out against your skin. Around your waist rested a matching teal garter belt that accentuated your curves, its silk straps disappearing down past the waistband of your slacks. His tongue darted out between his lips habitually at the sight of you, eyes skimming down your body as you dropped your pants and kicked them to the side to show off the matching pair of panties on your hips and the lace garters that hugged your thighs.

“Jesus.” George exhaled.

“An untimely choice for Petronas teal,” you said casually, your tone holding a playful smirk, “because I know we’re mad at the team right now but…maybe that just means you can tear it off me.”

He just blinked at you, “Yes.”

“Yeah?” your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, biting back your smile, fingers tracing the shape of your breasts in the cups of your bra, “Suddenly you’re up for your surprise?”

“It is certainly a well welcomed distraction.” George replied, basically speaking to your chest.

“Think it’ll make you feel better?”

“Loads.”

“Where do you want it? Bedroom or…?”

George took a step back from the counter and snapped his fingers to the floor at his feet, “Right here.”

Who were you to deny George Russell a damn thing?

You sauntered around the counter and into the kitchen where he stood, slinging an arm around his shoulders as you both leaned in for a kiss. It was quick and simple and his hands fell to your hips as your lips met again, sharing a few more soft close-mouthed kisses as if testing the waters. After a moment, he tilted his head to the side a little and parted your lips with his own before locking your bottom one between his two.

Your small moan had him breaking away from that kiss to quickly move in for another, raising a hand up to the side of your face to hold you there. You swore you could taste the remanence of champagne on his tongue as it nudged against yours; a reminder that he was the winner through and through. In everything but the obvious, he was the winner. Your winner.

Butterflies shot through your stomach as he deepened your kisses, resting his thumb under your chin to guide you into each one and you followed his lead with ease. The two of you fell into a familiar rhythm of lips and tongues, filling the kitchen with the lewd sound of your kisses. George’s hand was warm against the small of your back, resting there politely for a few moments, just above the fabric of your panties.

Your hands slid down his chest over his t-shirt, blindly fisting the material with a nudge upwards to silently get him to take it off. He pulled away from your lips long enough to do just that, aimlessly letting his shirt fall onto the countertop. His eyes were already falling half-lidded and lustful, staring at you almost down his nose with this sinful expression and this bite to his swollen bottom lip that could have had you dropping your knees in an instant. Instead, you dusted a kiss to his angular jaw line, his neck, his throat; feeling his small groan under your lips.

You kissed down his chest, between his pecs, over his abs - your hands trailing after sensually, rising goosebumps over his tanned skin. As you sank to your knees in front of him on the kitchen floor he pulled in a shaky inhale, his fingers carding through your hair.

“My three time race winner.” you purred up to him as you slowly unbuttoned his slacks, moving slowly and sensually to drag it on a little longer, building on that anticipation that thudded warmth through his veins. “I think you deserve a reward for your performance today.”

Before he could reply with any kind of half-self-deprecating rebuttal about his unfair disqualification, your hand was slipping through his fly and giving his clothed cock a squeeze over his underwear. George withered slightly, words dying at his lips, channeling his emotions into the reassurance of your touch and how much he had missed your presence throughout the weekend. You always knew how to take his mind away from the darkest places.

“Mm,” you hummed contently as you palmed him strongly, feeling the thick shape of him pressing against your hand through his briefs, “already getting hard for me, aren’t you?”

George breathed out a dreamy, “Yeah.”

You tugged at the waistband of his slacks a little to force him a half step closer, just so you could lean in and press a slow, open mouthed kiss to the bulge he was hiding beneath the fabric. Your eyes fluttered up to look at his face, finding him already staring down at you, and you sent him a sultry smile with your fingers linking in the waistband of his underwear

Without a word, you pulled them and his slacks down his legs, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched him be revealed before your eyes. You had seen him naked and uncountable number of times but in moments like that, he still managed to take your breath away.

You left his pants and underwear forgotten around his ankles as your priority quickly shifted to something far more pressing. In a gentle hand, you cupped his balls and his dick in one go, feeling the weight of him hungrily. Your unwavering gaze stared at how he stiffened up some more right before your eyes, forcing you to habitually lick your lips. You were salivating.

“My God, baby,” you breathed, giving him a tender squeeze just to pull a groan from his chest, “You have such a pretty cock.”

“All yours.” George replied easily, his accent thick with lust, his slender fingers still brushing through your hair.

“All mine.” you echoed.

Keeping his eye contact, you leaned in to purse your lips and press a slow, wet kiss right to the tip. His chest shuddered through his next inhale at your action, staring down at you wide-eyed and needy.

You raised your other hand to join your first, using one to cradle his balls while the other held his cock steady for you to press another precise kiss to the head. Turning to press another kiss to the length, you hummed in appreciation for the warmth under your lips. Holding him tenderly in your hands, you tried not to smirk too wide at your own ridiculousness as you teased up to him, “I dunno how they declared your car underweight when you were carrying this heavy load.”

George let out a breathy genuine laugh, shutting his eyes for a second and lolling his head back in disbelief over your corny words, “Jesus, love.”

“So delicious.” you hummed, licking your lips before teasingly lapping at the tip with your tongue, earning a tight gasp from his throat. “So, so, delicious.”

Keeping your hands in place, you swirled your tongue around the swollen head of his cock before settling your lips around it for a soft suckle. Your eyes fluttered closed as you stayed like that for a moment, testing the waters, giving him the slightest suction and warmth of your mouth.

“Darling-” George withered, his hand slipping to the back of your head to try and pull you deeper.

You pulled back again, pausing just long enough to spit on it, letting your hand start to move to slick him up in it, before you answered innocently, “What is it?”

George chuckled breathily, “You are such a tease.”

You smiled sweetly up at him, keeping your hand moving in precise twisting strokes, “Does my race winner want me to suck his dick? Give him his reward for a job well done?”

You dribbled more spit onto the tip, letting your hand move a little faster. He inhaled sharply at the change in pace, fingers almost tugging at the back of your hair with need to get your mouth back on him. You held back.

“Please, love, I need it. I need your mouth.” George purred, his voice dreamy and rich.

“And you deserve it.” you reminded him.

And then you were swallowing him up in one smooth motion.

“O-Oh, fuck-” George gasped sharply, his entire body flinching at the sudden presence of your warm, wet mouth around him. His eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched, trying to keep his composure with a stiff grunt.

He tasted warm and slightly salty against your tongue, resting thick and heavy in your mouth. You could have stayed there on your knees with him just settled in your mouth all night but the desire to bring him pleasure outweighed your selfishness. So, you started moving in slow bobs of your head with your hand still snug around the base to keep him where you needed him.

Up and down, in and out, slowly and surely. You kept your tongue running along the underside of his thick cock with every stroke, making sure to hollow your cheeks every time you pulled back. You knew what he liked.

George never pushed you but he always encouraged you; his hand resting on the back of your head and following your motions to help you keep your tame pace, only pulling you along the slightest bit. He was staring down at you with a lascivious gaze, long lashes hiding dilated blue eyes, swollen pink lips parted to let out breathy gasps and soft moans. You pushed yourself a little deeper.

“Crikey-”

His ridiculous exclamation had you letting out a small wet laugh that, given that your mouth was full of dick, sounded more like a gag than anything. His fingers tightened in your hair with a handsome moan from his chest, wanting to make you do that again.

You slowly nuzzled your mouth farther, choking slightly on him until your eyes were watering and spit was trickling down your chin. When he reached as far as you could easily take him, your body lurched with a wet gag and you pulled away.

“Fuck, love, you’re insatiable.” George praised.

You took a second to catch your breath, smiling proudly up at him as your hand took over for your mouth for a moment. The slick sound of your spit under every quick pump of your palm filled the otherwise silent kitchen, luring more melodic moans from your beloved’s throat. Everything about him was perfect to you; a perfect man who deserved the entire world. When someone tried to take the world from him, you would do everything in your power to try and make it better for him.

With a lick and a bite to your spitty lips, you dropped your gaze from his face to your hand, watching how he looked with your fingers wrapped around his thick girth. Your other hand still cradled his balls, giving them a little squeeze and caress at the same time.

George’s free hand dropped to the counter beside him, suddenly in need of support to keep himself upright.

You giggled sweetly and leaned in to kiss his leaking tip, once, twice, and then you were wrapping your lips around it again. This time, your hand kept going, moving in firm twisting strokes in time with your mouth. George panted from above you, fingers tangled in your hair, his hips trying not to nudge into your touch at the same time, not wanting to hurt you in the process.

But you gladly took the initiative, gagging yourself on his cock until tears were stinging your eyes and your senses were taken up entirely by him. The scent of sex lingered in your nostrils, filling the kitchen, swirling around the two of you in a salacious cloud. It was a reminder of the balance of your lust and love, the connection you shared, how you would never stray from giving him the best treatment - no matter how filthy.

George let out a string of expletives under his breath as you worked him graciously, his eyes screwing shut. You could feel how he throbbed in your hand, already so close, so you slowed a little before pulling away again.

He groaned in displeasure at being edged but you didn’t let him linger in that for too long. Instead, you asked him, “Where do you want to cum?”

Not having anticipated that question, George’s eyes fluttered open, his eyebrow furrowed in slight confusion as he processed your words through his lust. He licked his lips, bit them, let out a little hum in thought. Then, his gaze dropped to that pretty little set you were wearing. His eyebrows raised with a slight nod towards you, “On those perfect fucking tits.”

You smiled slyly up at him and kept your hand going, “Whatever you want, race winner.”

“Jesus, you’re so good to me.” he exhaled, taking his hand from your hair to take over for you.

You let go of his cock, spitting on it once more to make sure he was plenty wet, and for a second you just watched as he stroked himself up to that same speed you had going prior. Right in your face, his large hand jacked himself off in frustrated tugs behind heavy breaths, staring down at you with an intense purpose behind his eyes.

Lifting up onto your knees a little more, you used your hands to push your breasts together in your lacy teal bra so it was right up close to him. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip for a moment as you just took in the sights and sounds of it, watching him use you to get off.

“That’s it…come on.” you encouraged warmly, glancing up at his face with a lick to your lips.

The pleasure that was rippled across his face was gorgeous, right down to the hints of pink across his cheeks that stretched down the sides of his neck and the slight scrunch of his nose. So concentrated, on a one track mind.

“That’s it,” you repeated, looking at his hand on his cock again, in a dizzy haze at how hot the sight was. You pressed your breasts together a little more, the teal fabric standing out in the warm light of the kitchen, and you let your stream of consciousness out to get him there faster, “That’s it. Show me how you feel about your team right now…how you hate the sight of this colour right now. Come on. Ruin it. Desecrate it. That’s it, baby, come on.”

“Fuck-” George choked out.

“Uh huh. Come on, baby. Ruin it. That’s it.” you nodded him on, speaking a little louder as his moans and gasps rose in volume and pitch.

And then, pretty spurts of white were shot across your chest as he moaned handsomely through the kitchen. You shifted slightly to make sure he got most of it on the bra itself, thrilled on the symbolism of what he just did entailed.

“That’s it.” you purred as he faded out of his orgasm, “Beautiful.”

You reached up to set your hand around his on his throbbing dick, leaning in to clean up the tip with an eager tongue and a few little suckles, making him hiss in sensitivity. Your smiling eyes locked on his face as you sat back on your haunches again, wiping your mouth and chin with your thumb before your fingers were trailing through his cum splattered across your chest and you smeared it over your bra some more. He watched you breathlessly, only letting out a soft groan as you licked your fingers off.

Without tearing your eyes away from his, you stated teasingly, “Next time we’ll break into Brackley and have you cum all over the trophy that should have stayed yours.”

George couldn’t even word a response for a second between your outlandish ‘idea’ and the fact that you took his wrist and guided his fingers into your mouth just after. His lips trying to form a reply to no avail, wide eyes staring down at how you sucked his fingers clean, before all he could do was let out a breathy huff of laughter and turn his head away from your insistent gaze. His pleasured, suddenly shy silence spoke volumes. You grinned proudly up at him.

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sei-rq · 7 hours ago

Note

Hiiii i really like your writing hehe sooo i wanted to make a request about a really specific scenario that i’ve been thinking abt.

imagine Rin and fem reader are childhood besties and before Rin goes to bllk she confesses to rin and runs away not letting him respond. Anyway, they dont see eachother until after the u-20 match and when they see eachother again , it’s tense and awkward and yea lol (they end up together tho)

a/n: wahh, I didn't know if you wanted fluff or smut, but I have so many requests about smut so I thought I'd try something different, hope you like it <33 and TYSM, ILY :D

stupid owl [5:37 AM]:

okay so

i don't have the guts to say this irl, so as the silly little guy i am, i'm just gonna send this here rq

we've been friends for so long and i don't want something like this to affect us, but i really need to say this before you leave for the little training thing you have

i really like you, fuck actually I really love you

i'm so sorry, i have so much more to say but I feel like if I say more than this, it's going to hurt more, because i know you don't feel the same way, i understand if you don't want to talk after this, good luck with soccer and everything else, rinrin, wishing you all the best <3

you [6:07 AM]:

[n/n], i love you too.

error, message couldn't send.

this user has blocked you.

...

rin isn't okay, he slept so well last night, he woke up at the usual time as he does, but well, he can't have shit, because he has developed a very bad habit of checking his phone soon after he wakes up, so he woke up at 6:00 AM, yes?

and disaster strikes, maybe a better striker than him. he had expected a million reels on his insta from you, funny or relatable tiktoks too, maybe even you talking about wanting to stop living as a human and turning into a capybara that balances an orange on it's head at 4 in the morning.

but no, it's none of that, it's his direct messages.

and he sees all of it right before leaving for blue lock, and his heart is falling to his stomach, his ears are red and hot, they're burning so such that he thinks he can't hear anything at all, his ears are ringing, he's happy at first, why wouldn't he be?

he has liked you ever since you tripped on the soccer ball in the playground when trying to learn the game, trying to play with him.

why wouldn't he like you back?

but then his chest tightens and his throat is dry and he can't seem to swallow the lump forming.

this user has blocked you.

fuck.

he's so fucked.

normally, if this was any other day, he'd run to your house, throw rocks at your window like it's a highschool romcom, but it just had to be the day he has to leave for bluelock, he really doesn't have time to spare.

itoshi rin is never late and he knows he wouldn't mind being late just this once, however, he has to get ready, take a shower, do yoga, then his daily morning run, breakfast. his bag is already packed, he doesn't need to worry about that.

and this is the first time, rin decides to say, "screw it."

he's freshly showered, bag in hand, protein bar in mouth, running to your house before his bus arrives, he hasn't done anything in his packed morning routine other than showering and the pathetic excuse of protein for breakfast.

but it's over.

as soon as he rings your doorbell and your mother answers the door with something along the lines of—

"they left last night to visit their aunt for the summer, didn't they say anything?"

okay so, it's really fucking over, and he's very fucked and screwed.

fuck this.

he's grumpy on his ride there, and he's even more pissed when the first challenge in blue lock arrives, he ends up kicking the ball into someone's face, eliminating them and causing them to have blood pouring out their nose, if not already backed by the sadness of being disqualified.

oops?

rin spends his days in the blue lock facility, distracting himself with soccer, forcing himself to recall his one goal, beating sae.

and in a history of firsts for rin, this is also the first time he can't seem to focus on the game he's held onto so desperately since he was introduced to it by his big brother.

time flies by and he wins victory after victory, until it's really time to prove himself and he has his goal set and nailed down in his mind, he will accomplish it, no matter what.

he's looking through the crowd, he's already tense as it is because of sae's attitude, well, it's way worse when he comes in contact with familiar eyes, he knows them by heart, he has dreamed about them since he was a brat with chubby cheeks. (that he still very much has.)

you.

you're wearing his jersey.

and in that moment, nothing else matters.

no one else matters, no other goal matters.

it's not over, you're here to watch him play, you're here to cheer him on, to see how much he has improved and now?—now he has enough motivation to do what he has set in mind, he will make things right, it's all going to be okay.

he's way more nervous when he plays this time, he scores a goal and his eyes are already back on you, to see your reaction, to gauge if that satisfies you even by a morsel, he needs to have your eyes on him.

they already are on him before he looks at you and—

oh.

oh fuck.

he knows he's done for.

he's all yours and he feels everything, everything is felt so deeply.

after the match, he is in a pissy attitude, he was happy when he saw you but sae as always has to ruin shit.

he's alone as he walks down the hallway to reach the elevator.

"rin?"

and in an instant, his heart is down his stomach.

the familiar comforting voice that he is so used to, he turns around to you and no— he hates that look on your face,

that unsure look, the insecurity and the awkwardness as though he'd ever ignore you, that face that screams "i don't want you to look at me like i'm repulsive."

you absolutely shouldn't have that look on you, never in a million years.

"[n/n]."

and he's breathing your name in like the air he breathes, immediately turning around to close the distance between you too, he sees you step backwards and he's hurt, but he needs to fix that look on your face.

he pulls you in by grabbing your wrist, his head drops to your shoulder, his arms wrap around your frame as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

home.

"you played so well."

don't do this to me.

please don't do this to me, don't treat me like a stranger, don't act like there's nothing here, like i'm not here, don't act so indifferent, please.

"i missed you." he murmurs, he can't get enough, he's drowning in your scent, his heart aching like a man starved and oh god, the yearning, he needs you so bad.

"missed you too, rin." and you apparently think this is a time to be funny, yet he knows that you aren't joking with that tone, what did he do to deserve the calculated tone of your voice and the sharpness of your words?

"don't call me that." his brows furrow.

"call you what? i just used your name, rin."

"don't pull this shit on me, [y/n], just anything but this right now, please." there is an edge to his voice like it'll break, like he's about to start sobbing, and it's pathetic but he's so desperate, for anything, just please.

"don't treat me like a stranger, please."

you don't know how to respond to that as you pull away from his reach and his face drops further, he grits his teeth as he pulls you into the elevator with him, it's nice, the elevator is cool, the glass showcasing the world outside from the tall structure of the building, it goes down slowly.

and before you know it, your back is pressed to the glass.

rin's hand on your cheek, the other hand in your hair. and he's pulling you in, his lips rest on your forehead, then your nose and then your cheek, ghosting over your lips and—please.

"am I allowed to kiss you?"

because this is so strange, you were so sure itoshi rin doesn't do feelings, but that look on his face proves it otherwise, he looks frantic, like he's touching glass or something so fragile it might shatter under his care.

"please?"

who are you to say no? his lips are on yours as soon as he gets the signal, deep, intimate, intense, afraid, painfully desperate.

and when he pulls always to look down at you to utter the words.

"i love you too."

the elevator door opens to isagi yoichi whose soul leaves his body, as the sprout on his head jumps alongside him.

well.

words aren't very important at the moment and rin isn't good at them either and there is plenty of more time to deal with all that, but what matters most is that he has made himself clear with his actions.

he won't let you slip away.

and that starts with his pissed off expression as he chases isagi out the elevator to grab him by the hair and the poor blue haired boy can only feel his soul leave his body like those animated cartoons.

you're left by yourself to giggle at the person in front of you, someone who has been your best friend before everything else.

how foolish of you to assume he wouldn't want this.

how foolish, because if he felt nothing, why were his hands shaking when holding your face so carefully to kiss you? as to not break you?

how foolish.

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qqueenofhades · 10 months ago

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can you assuage my creeping fear about the debate between harris and trump? my brain is like. the media will be salivating over any chance to get the story HARRIS FLUBS THE DEBATE MORE AT 6 unless she's 100% perfect for it. i keep telling myself that she's an incredibly seasoned prosecutor who knows exactly what to do to unravel these sorts of people, she has plenty of time to prepare, he's completely gone over the edge into incoherence most of the time, but i also keep thinking of how, after weeks of her absolutely pile-driving the republican party, the media will be circling for any mistake, mis-step, or imperfection to blow out of proportion to make it seem like she's failing. i guess what i'm afraid of is the other shoe dropping? or the bubble bursting? i'm afraid of this hope?

i was barely aware of obama in 2008, too young to vote and not paying attention, so i don't know how this kind of momentum turned into the juggernaut that got him elected. i know you believe that the same can happen here, how did he take on the predatory press?

Well, first, we need to recognize that the media treatment of the debate WILL be wildly unfair, full stop. If Trump shows up and puts on pants, he will be applauded by the media, because they have the lowest imaginable bar where he is concerned and everything that would have been multiply-disqualifying for any other candidate makes them just shrug and find a way to make excuses for him. So yes, he will literally be congratulated if he shows up on September 10, because that is how the media works. See: three relentless weeks of bullying Biden out of the race after the bad debate, barely mentioning Trump's equally insane diatribes at the same debate, and now, when he's gone full-on demented and is raving about AI-generated crowds at Kamala's events? Nary a peep. Lol.

However, the main narrative that's emerging from the Harris takeover is that voters and the media are miles apart on where they actually see this race going, and without the media's favorite chew toy of Biden's shortcomings, it has become increasingly difficult to avoid focusing on Trump's flaws, even tangentially. See the mainstream media reporters whining constantly that Harris hasn't given them a press conference and congratulating Trump for lying to them nonstop for an hour; they simply have no frame of reference that's remotely useful, because they are so beholden to making Trump look like a normal candidate and focusing on Harris's "flaws" as if they are remotely comparable to his. But at the same time, there has been a far heightened level of pushback on this BS manipulation, and everybody can see through it, precisely because the media and/or the right-wing smear machine has tried this so many times before and their tactics are now completely transparent. Ordinary voters don't give a shit whether Harris WiLl tAkE qUesTioNs fRoM tHe mEdiA; they're too busy flooding her campaign with donations, attending her rallies, signing up for volunteer shifts, and so forth. In fact, the reason the media is trying SO HARD to kill her momentum is because they, like Trump, rely on doing so. The more they try and don't succeed, the more panicked they'll get. We have to prepare for that, and we have to have her back.

That said, we should recall that Harris easily crushed Pence in their debate in 2020, and Pence was actually halfway presentable at it compared to Trump (which is a low bar, but still). The way Trump "wins" is that he just repeats a lot of lies forcefully and over and over, which Biden was ill-prepared to counter because he has a far more deliberate and decisive speaking style (related to stutter/speech difficulties, temperament as a politician, etc). Everything that I have seen from the Harris campaign in terms of communication so far, however, has been the exact kind of clapback that makes Trump look stupid and which shows that they are very attuned to the kind of strategies that work against that nonsensical bullying Gish gallop. Therefore, I have to trust that they have INTENSIVELY studied what went wrong with Biden/Trump in June, and also empowered Kamala to do what she does in her fashion and which has been extremely successful thus far at knocking down Trump's BS. Also, she's just a better and more fluent communicator than Biden, she looks and sounds more energetic, and those stupid aesthetic Vibes are half of the battle when it comes to convincing the public.

Also, we should recognize that Trump looked deeply creepy on stage at the debates with HRC in 2016, and that was when he was downright sane compared to now. He stalked her, he stood behind her, he rolled his eyes, he bullied her, and people noticed that (he subsequently won the election, yes, but if nothing else, 2024 feels nothing like 2016). If he has to stand on stage with a black woman kicking his ass, after his appearance at the NABJ event in Chicago quickly became a touchstone for how badly he fucked it up, he is going to just look BAD, and when that's the case, people will immediately fit it into the existing narrative (that he's scared of Harris and deeply racist and unglued). You can also play your part in making sure it does. At least half of the Bidengate furor came from Democrats melting down and yelling about it afterward, and that led into the knives-out media coverage that spiraled for 3.5 weeks until Biden withdrew. We can, yknow, NOT DO THAT this time!

So: yeah. We have to be aware that yes, the media coverage of the debate will find absolutely every excuse to praise Trump and bash Harris, because that's just baked in. However, we can also understand that there's a wide-and-getting-wider CHASM between how ordinary voters see things right now and how the media is desperate to play it, and the more transparent they get, the more easily we are able to call it out. (See Lawrence O'Donnell's rant the other night.) We are going to have to keep doing that and not let up, but it's not going to go well for Trump either way and it's still an open question as to whether he even shows up after trying SO hard to dodge. It's not out of the question that he'll announce on September 4 that by Harris not showing up to the Fox debate she never agreed to and which exists only in his deluded mind, he doesn't have to do the same on September 10. He is a scared fucking orange chickenshit who KNOWS he's badly outmatched against Harris and whose entire campaign strategy at this point relies on lying low and trying not to make voters remember again how much they hate him, which is already backfiring. And with your help, we can make him MORE scared all the way to prison. Let's do it.

#andromeda3116 #ask #politics for ts #the giant orange monster #harris walz 2024

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gingerbread-in-july · 6 months ago

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Under the cut lies my personal ranking of all of Spencer Reid's love interests, both actual and potential, from best all the way down to worst, plus a whole lot of unfiltered sassy commentary that nobody asked for. Then again, nobody asked for any of this, but my brain was just on one of its neurodivergent tangents. There's 11 total. Some of this- probably a lot of this- will piss some people off and I am truly sorry. I hope there's at least some other people out there who share my strong ass opinions.

1. Dorian Loker- I will never forgive these bitch ass writers for never following up on that storyline. He asked her out in Russian, for Christ's sake! One of the only times in the entire series he actually initiates a date with somebody. He complimented her coffee! For him, that may as well be a pickup line. He was finally moving on from Maeve. That was a huge fucking step. He was shy and unsure of himself, but he was clearly into her, he was flirting the best he could, and he fucking asked her out. Don't even get me started on him being into her enough to set aside his germophobia and touch her hand by the end of the episode. Or his gutted little expression when he realized he spoiled the book she was reading. They were adorable and they could have been everything. Of all the one-episode love interests, she's the one I'm most pissed at them for never fucking following up on.

2. Ethan- They were not just friends. I read somewhere that Spencer was initially supposed to be bisexual. They might have scrapped that, but bi Spence still found a way. They for sure hooked up. For. Sure. The chemistry was just there. And I am not one of those weirdo bitches who are overly fetishistic toward m/m pairings. I'm too fucking gay myself to get off on two men together. But those two men for sure were a thing- and good for them.

3. Austin the bartender- She was hot. They had chemistry. More chemistry than he did with his actual girlfriends. End of.

4. Ashley Seaver- I know y'all hate her and that she wasn't technically a love interest. However, I guarantee that she would have been if they'd kept her around. They were definitely setting it up to be that way. And, you know what? They'd have been a damn cute couple. I'd have loved to see it. And no, the "sorry for asking" moment was not grounds to disqualify it. Everyone else said as bad or worse to him at some point. If you can ship him with a psychopath who drugged him, framed him for murder, got him falsely imprisoned and nearly killed, kidnapped and tried to kill his mother, and lied about r*ping him and getting pregnant? You can ship him with Ashley fucking Seaver. If you can ship him with his fucking doctor who used her own loneliness as an excuse to violate all kinds of professional and ethical codes? You can ship him with Ashley fucking Seaver. If you can, perhaps worst of all, ship J*id? You can ship him with Ashley fucking Seaver.

5. Lila Archer- I think their worlds were ultimately too different for them to work long-term, but I do think they would have made a sweet couple for a while. They would each give the other things that their worlds were lacking. They wouldn't have been endgame, but they'd have stayed good friends. Also, "bUt aMbEr hEARD" isn't the dunk you think it is. Johnny Depp is a rich, 60-something year old white man who is problematic as fuck in his own right- and he's never going to fuck you.

6. Cat Adams- Do I want them to actually be together? No. Does she deserve him? Hell no. Would the people further down this list technically be better for him than her? Probably. But......the chemistry, y'all. The chemistry was there. Matthew and Aubrey just play far too well off of each other.

7. Maeve Donovan- I didn't hate her, but she was just a vehicle to give Spencer more trauma. I don't think she was "the one," "the love of his life," or any of that other stuff some say. I don't think they'd have lasted if she'd lived. They didn't really know each other. She lied to him about having a whole ass fiancé she never told him about. God only knows what else he didn't know. He started out as her fucking patient, for God's sake. The ethical violations were out the ass. I don't think she'd have crossed those lines if she weren't feeling so vulnerable and isolated from having to hide from her stalker. At least, not if she's as smart as everyone claims she is. Everyone- including Spencer- only puts her on a pedestal because of the tragedy of her death and not knowing what could have been. What would have been had she lived......probably wouldn't have been all that great in the long run.

8. Linda Kimura- I'll be honest, I don't recall a single damn thing about this woman. I forgot she even existed until I saw her pictured on a potential love interest compilation. While I don't recall them having any chemistry whatsoever, I'll still include her for the sole purpose of ranking her higher than the rest of these shit bombs. And speaking of bombs, that brings us to......

9. Dylan Einstein- For the life of me, I just don't understand why people go so hard for this pairing. It's like she was generated in a Mary Sue factory to fit some stereotype of what AI might imagine Spencer's ideal woman to be. Her last name is Einstein, for fuck's sake. I'd probably respect it more if they did just name her Mary Sue. They were trying too hard to present her as Girl Spencer. The bitch even wore a purple scarf! She also just came across as annoying and overly eager and seemed like she didn't really understand when to fuck off. She butted in too much while Derek and Spencer were trying to work. Some poster here said that the actress who played her shipped the character with Spencer. That is more than obvious in the way she plays her. It's like she read a bunch of Wattpad fic and decided to use the character to try for her Y/N moment. Can't blame a girl for trying, but that is one "love interest" I am glad was a one-off.

10. JJ- What could I say that hasn't already been said? The J*id plot was painfully forced. Spencer has more chemistry with a fucking paperweight than he does with JJ. Do I love their friendship? Yes. Do I love watching Spencer interact with her kids? God, yes. But, he's Uncle Spencer, not Stepdaddy Spencer. The only way Spencer and JJ are more than friends is that they're found family. Will is an absolute saint of a husband. Fuck them writers for doing him dirty like that. Even pre-Will, Spencer and JJ just didn't have the chemistry like that. I'm glad they scrapped that bullshit early crush storyline after just one episode. Also, am I the only one who remembers Spencer being totally unaffected and not even giving half a shit when JJ finally came out to the team about being with Will? He said something along the lines of "We all knew already." He was so unbothered. No way in hell has he been "waiting for JJ" this whole time or whatever these clowns pulled out of their asses toward the end. Such a waste of a plot. Literally any other pairing would have made more sense.

11. Maxine bitch ass Brenner- Here we are. Last and least. Even J*id was better than this shit. What the fuck even was the goddamn point of this bitch besides having an excuse to have Rachael Leigh Cook guest star? Too bad this is who she had to play. She was just rude as hell with her snark, her bitchy little expressions and the way she mocked the kids- elementary school aged kids- she taught. As if it was beneath her grandiose idea of herself. How could they for one second think that somebody like Spencer- somebody who loves kids, loves to teach and to learn and values education as much as Spencer- could ever like somebody like her? They were already having to cram way too much into too little space that last season. It was already a shit show. What the fuck was the point of adding her only to never bring her back? I mean, good call there at least because she sucked. I can only assume Spence realized how much she sucked and ditched her ass. She was just a pointless waste of time and never should have been a thing. I'm glad Spence made out with Cat in front of her and I hope it chapped her ass that he never kissed her that way. Glad her family didn't die, but she and they can all fuck all the way off down the road.

Thanks for sticking this one out if you did.

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fuwaprince · 2 months ago

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Hiii everyone. Please please help if you can.

I am SO sorry to be begging like this, but I just lost my job yesterday and am in desperate need of some mutual aid!!! Unfortunately I don't qualify for unemployment so :((( I'm trying not to get all depressed about it.. I already applied for like 6 jobs yesterday and I'll be doing that more today.

If anybody could please spare me some $ to help me cover living expenses it would be extremely helpful and appreciated 😔🙏 I don't really know what I'm going to do in the meantime. I haven't told my landlord yet out of fear that she'd ask me to leave! Things were going pretty well and stable before. This job was what got me out of homelessness and losing it definitely rocked the boat for me. LOTS of concerns rn... including concern for my partner's wellness

I was using part of my earnings to help support my partner who is currently homeless and working on getting a job too. I'm not really allowed visitors, so I can't offer him a shower or place to rest rn. This morning I brought him out a coffee, pb/honey sammy using my last two slices of bread, a bus pass and whatever pocket change I had. He was completely sleepless, in need of a shower and asked if I knew anybody he could beg for a hotel stay for the night. He's disabled and exhausted but we're doing our best to stay positive/hopeful. I told him that myself and all of the internet *may* be able to help. He isn't a homeless family, aka single, so resources like hotel vouches aren't available to him just like they weren't for me. If anybody could please help by donating for that as well, we both would be very grateful/relieved- at least for the night. Please help him avoid getting eaten by the mosquitoes and coyotes (yes, coyotes were literally stalking him at one point while walking outside late at night 😭). Food assistance is covered but housing is still a work in progress. He placed some calls and is on waitlists. I'm actually still on a waitlist myself and have been patiently waiting at least a month now to hear back. Just trying to survive in the meantime. We could both really use some help from friends tho! Family isn't exactly here for either of us :'(((

PS When I reached out to homeless assistance in my area previously, the guy who was assigned to help figured it would be easier to deny me resources. He couldnt believe I was homeless while working a full-time (min wage, btw) job and graduated from college. I told him he could call multiple references to confirm my homelessness status at the time but he literally lied saying he could not verify. When I called my references (my mom included) to ask how the call went, they said they told him the truth that I had been homeless for about a year... He even lied to her saying I was at a hotel franchise that I was NOT staying at (AND DOES NOT EVEN EXIST IN THIS WHOLE CITY BTW) which disqualified me from being eligible for the resource. I already sent his supervisor an email but I received no word back :/ I went without those resources and you can imagine how reluctant they're being to my partner now. They're supposed to help... the city funds it. As a paying patron, I'm really disheartened by the whole experience. It hurt on so many levels.

Tl;dr sorry for begging like this. I really didn't know how to phrase this so I hope this works out alright. Losing my job sucks and I could really use your support. Thank you for taking the time to read whatever parts you did. Please reblog if you can so that somebody who is willing and able to help finds my post! If that's you, thank you and I love you and sorry again. Hoping things steadily improve for all of us 🫂 wishing friends and strangers the best 💐 stay safe. Please donate if you can!!!

Cashapp: $fuwapu

Paypal: @garyanne

#mutual aid #signal boost #donation post #please help #i lost my job this suuuuuckssss but everything will be okay hopefully #I'm really sorry to ask for help but everybody needs somebody sometimes so please understand 😔#i really didn't do anything wrong at work they just decided to part ways at will :/#friends please reblog!!!#please donate #please share #💓💓💓😔

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that-hazbin · 4 months ago

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Media Demon AU

I can't stop thinking about this au! Does Alastor kill Valentino when he meets Angle Dust in the black market porn stuff in the 70's? Is Vox still obsessed with alastor even if he's not in power? Who does the fashion stuff - Rosie? Do people know Alastor by face and name or does he hide that? Who's in charge of novels and book publishing - Zestial? Does Alastor set up safe houses for Exterminations and rent free apartments for people so no on is out on the street doing Exterminations? What happens with Husk when he arrives - does he still become an overlord?

Alastor does kill Valentino, along with a bunch of other black market dealers, presumably a couple decades after Vox's One Hit Wonder, so the 70's wouldn't be a bad place to put it on the timeline.

As for Vox, his "one-sided psychosexual obsession" is more of a "celebrity crush" sort of thing. Vox definitely admires Alastor and thinks he's amazing, however without having any major power of his own, and without the influence of someone like Valentino in his life, he doesn't grow delusional about his relationship regarding Alastor. He's very aware that him and Alastor just aren't going to happen, but that doesn't stop him from having his own little fantasies every now and then. When Vox actually meets Alastor, he's already established in his head quite firmly that he and Alastor aren't actually going to be anything. (He wouldn't say no to an autograph, though. Perhaps a handshake and some friendly advice. That would easily make his day. Year. Afterlife as a whole.)

I don't think Rosie would fit very well as the head of fashion. She, like Alastor, is pretty stuck in her time period. Fashion as an industry is, on its own, as big as TV. It's huge. Setting up that side of media is going to be a total mess. 😭 I imagine there will be multiple brands, with each brand having a team of sinners in charge. Whoever gets to be the head probably has to have very specific standards— for one, I imagine Alastor would REFUSE to allow the modern beauty standard to become a thing. Starving models, overly edited photos, filters, unrealistic standards, all of that shit is going in the trash. And whoever he puts in charge will make damned sure the industry doesn't fall to bad habits.

Also, Rosie is super busy with her cannibals, alongside running her own business, so I don't think she'd even have the time to run the fashion industry. I feel like if Alastor wants to appoint people with these responsibilities, he's gonna have to look for people who aren't currently overlords with their own businesses to handle. Maybe Mimzy? Although honestly, I think she'd rather go in showbiz and have a grand time as a star without having to deal with paperwork.

Honestly, we have absolutely no idea what Zestial's deal is, but we do know some minor things about him. For one, he's ancient. And for another, he's so utterly terrifying that people run the FUCK away from him. Given that Zestial is an overlord and likely already has his own stuff to deal with, I feel like he would already be disqualified from taking charge of the book side of media. (Although, I bet his ass is great with poetry. Maybe Zestial can publish his own works. I hope he does.)

Alastor does have safe houses, but they weren't originally with the intent of hiding people from exterminators. The idea actually came to mind when he started making contracts for the sex workers. When they say or think a safe word with intent, they're transported to "safety." But that's vague, and not entirely secure— what if they're transported home, but there's an abuser or home invader at their house? Suddenly, they're not safe, and they can't keep using their safe word since, in order to fuel the teleportation, blood gets taken from the contracted. Furthermore, what if they can't think of somewhere safe?

So, instead, there's safe houses set up, with weighted blankets, medical supplies, food and water, and any other comforts and necessities you can think of.

It occurs to him later on, after he's outfitted the safe houses with security to prevent people from breaking in and stealing everything, that hey... These seem to be good places to hide out during the exterminations? Hm.

Now, for Husk. In this timeline, he doesn't get a chance to become an overlord. Alastor manages to find him pretty quickly because, in the original timeline, Alastor had stalked him with the intention of taking him out like he had previous overlords. He knows all of Husk's habits, interests, and even knows the backstory as to how Husk came into power to begin with. Which makes it pretty easy for him to nip that shit in the bud before it gets out of hand. Husk will meet Alastor out on the streets while he's in the middle of a simple sleight of hand trick, trying to make some spare change with a minor magician act. A "pick a card, any card," sort of act that children love.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #media demon au #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #angel dust #hazbin rosie #zestial #hazbin husk

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thevoicefromanotherworld · 4 days ago

Text

"IT'S YOUR CHOICE"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH JOHN WICK

I hope you like it! 🖤😊

You knew that no matter where you hid, he would eventually find you and carry out his mission to wipe you off the face of the Earth.

He was the best at what he did.

In your twenty-two years of life, you hadn't met anyone who had escaped his clutches.

You couldn't go to the Continental because that would mean walking right into the lion's den, and you also couldn't contact any of your friends because you were absolutely sure they would trace the call and locate you instantly.

The fact that they had declassified you was a real pain, really.

For every day that passed without any of them catching you, the bounty on your head increased exponentially.

You lived the life of a fugitive: you spent a week at most in the same city, you paid money so they couldn't locate you, and when you had to talk to someone, you did it through disposable phones.

Everything was going well until one day you slipped up, without realizing it.

You were at a coffee shop getting a double espresso and paying with your credit card.

As soon as you realized what you'd done, you ran out of the place and took the city bus to the airport.

You weren't even going to stop by the apartment you'd been staying on to grab your things.

You had to get out of there, NOW.

You got off the bus in front of the airport and quickly headed for the gate.

You could steal a ticket from one of the passengers and sneak into the terminal to catch a flight to anywhere; anywhere was fine as long as it was far from there.

As soon as you entered the airport, you saw a group of four men following your every move, while you glanced toward the exit, which was half blocked by another group of eight people.

You decided that before you saw the noose around your neck tighten, it was time to run.

You felt in your right pocket where you kept the hunting knife you always carried, before looking back to see if they were following you.

The first group was getting dangerously close to you, and the second was hot on their heels, forcing you to run faster than you already were.

You knocked over a luggage cart to block their path, but they jumped over it as if it were nothing and continued after you.

Then you passed a corner and felt someone grab your arm and pull you back, placing you against the wall so that their body was blocking you.

You kicked against him and tried to break away from his grip, but as soon as you looked up, you realized it was best to keep quiet. It was him, the one they called Baba Yaga.

You recognized him by his long, dark hair and his deep, dark, raven-like eyes.

He brought his index finger to his lips, signaling you to be silent.

You nodded firmly, and a few seconds later, he looked up and down the hall to check that your attackers had left.

He gave you his jacket and told you to cover yourself with it.

You left the airport and returned to your apartment, where you quickly grabbed the gun you always kept in the drawer of the hall furniture.

You pointed it at him, took the safety off, and placed your middle finger on the trigger.

He raised his hands before closing the door with his foot.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already," he began, taking a small step toward you. "You have to let me explain…"

"You have nothing to explain to me," you interrupted. "You came to kill me, like all of them," you blurted out. "I don't buy your protective attitude," you murmured, tightening your grip on the gun. "You have to get out of here." If the others find out you're here, they'll kill us both.

"No one's going to kill anyone," he said. "I'm here to protect you."

"Bullshit," you snorted. "Why? I'm disqualified. No one cares about me."

"I do," he chimed in. "And the person who sent me does too." He shook his head. "I can't tell you their name, so you'll have to trust me."

"No way, I don't know you at all. How do I know if…?"

"Let me sum it up for you" he interrupted, staring at you. "If you want to keep breathing, you have to come with me," he said. "Otherwise, well, let's just say your name won't appear in the history books." He raised his eyebrows. "Do you see where I'm going?"

"You don't leave me much of a choice," you complained, staring back at him.

"The offer is simple, as is the answer," he said. "You can accept it, or you can suffer the same fate as the others who were in the same situation as you before you," he explained. "It's your choice."

"I'll come with you then," you agreed, lowering your gun. "Promise me no one will put a bullet in my head."

"To do that, they'll have to get past me," he gave a half-smile. "I'm not exactly easy to kill. Many tried."

"And where are they now?" you asked, staring at him.

"Somewhere they won't come back from," he replied before nodding at you so that you would follow him

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick #keanu reeves #byvoice #writterscommunity #writters on tumblr #my fic writing

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manlikeazi · 2 months ago

Text

A Little Salt, A Lotta Flirt - Chunkz

Summary: You're a special guest in ChefAsylum where you first met Darkest, Harry, and Chunkz.

Pairing: Chunkz x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist

You smile nervously at the camera as you step into the Footasylum kitchen. Your apron is tied, your ingredients are prepped, and your confidence is hanging on by a single, overcooked spaghetti strand.

You glance to the left.

Harry Pinero. Suave, tall, and he looks like he knows where the camera is at all times.

To the right?

Darkest. Mischievous smile, already sipping juice like he knows he's about to roast you within an inch of your life.

And in the middle...

Chunkz

May God have mercy on your soul.

He's smiling, dimples on full display, eyes locked on you like you're the actual main course. You immediately forget how to stand.

Do legs bend?

Are knees supposed to do this?

Is this blood rushing to your face?

Or did you just catch fire from the way he looked at you?

"Hi" You said.

Hi???

That's all you got???

Not "Hope you're hungry" or "Let's cook up some chemistry"??

Nah, just hi????

He leans back in his seat, eyes not leaving you for a second.

"You're looking like a whole Michelin star already" Chunkz said, voice smoother than the butter they have in store

Instant combustion.

You laugh awkwardly, a weird wheeze-cough hybrid that should honestly disqualify you from public life.

The kitchen lights were a little too bright. The cameras a little too close. Your nerves? Absolutely fried. You adjusted your clothes again for the third time, fidgeting with the strings like it was gonna save you.

As the camera started rolling, you heard laughter, the easy kind, the kind you always wished you could blend into.

And then, you heard him.

Chunkz's laugh, the very same rich, effortless, warm laugh. Like it belonged somewhere safe. Somewhere soft.

You peeked over your shoulder and instantly caught his eye. He was already looking at you.

Not in a polite way. Not in a "Oh cool, new person" way. In a slow head-to-toe, bite-the-bottom-lip, lean-back-in-his-chair-because-he's-enjoying-the-view kinda way.

You looked away first. Obviously. You weren't built to survive that eye contact because what the fuck was that seriously? Who holds that eye contact for long and look really nonchalant about it like it was something normal for him?

"Alright! Today's special chef" Harry announced, gesturing to you.

"--is gonna be cooking for these three legends!" Harry added.

Harry Pinero clapped once followed by Darkest and Chunkz beside him, sarcastic and loud.

"Hope you can cook, man. Otherwise, this is gonna be a hostile environment" Harry said.

"Don't watch him. Just make sure my plate's bigger than his" Darkest said as he smiled over his drink.

And Chunkz?

Chunkz didn't say anything at first.

Just gave you that slow, lopsided grin.

"You ready for me, yeah?" Chunkz said, calmly.

You blinked, having a moment of malfunctioning.

For you?

FOR YOU???

"What? I mean not specifically you" You said, pretending to focus on the cutting board.

"Of course" Chunkz said, chuckled under his breath.

You fucked up the general knowledge question but somehow got a decent ingredients and you got to work, pretending not to feel the heat of three sets of eyes following every move you made.

The first five minutes were manageable. Until the knife slipped and a tomato went flying across the counter. To be fair, the knife was horror.

You gasped. Harry leaned over to Darkest, stage-whispering loud enough for everyone to hear.

"That tomato just filed for early retirement" Harry said, looking offended like he was the tomato itself.

Darkest choked on his water and Chunkz was just laughing, forehead resting against his hand like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Don't worry" Chunkz said, his voice way too soft for this chaotic environment.

"Everyone needs a little warming up" Chunkz added.

And then, looking you dead in the eye.

"I'm patient. So, take your time, beautiful" Chunkz said.

"Yeah, lost your mind" Darkest said next to him as he laughed.

You nearly dropped the knife next.

You pretend to be unbothered. Cool. Chill. Unfazed but your hands are shaking like you're about to defuse a bomb instead of stirring curry.

"Why you holding the spoon like that? It's not a microphone" Darkest said as he clocked it immediately.

"They're singing for help" Harry said, without missing a beat.

You try to flip them off with your eyes. Doesn't work.

"Don't worry, I got you. I'll be your sous chef... or your husband. Whichever works" Chunkz said softly and grins.

WHO ALLOWED HIM TO SAY THAT???

"Oh my god, he's actually moving mad" Harry said, gasping dramatically as he low-key smacked Darkest.

You dropped the spoon, It clangs like it's exposing you.

You are now operating on auto-pilot. You can feel him watching as you cook, which is fantastic because nothing says sexy like stress-sweating while chopping onions.

Then he appears next to you. Like... right next to you.

Did he teleport??

How did he get there so fast??

When did the laws of physics stop applying to him??

"Need a hand?" he asked, moving to your side without waiting for an answer. His shoulder brushed yours, just enough for you to feel the heat.

You tried to focus on the pan, you tried so hard.

Sir.

Sir, you might need a therapy.

"That smells nice" Chunkz murmurs, eyes flicking to your face.

"And the food's decent too" Chunkz added as he leaned down, pretending to inspect your work.

"Seasoning's good" Chunkz said lowly, so only you could hear.

"But you're looking better" Chunkz added.

You whipped your head around to glare at him, scandalized but he was already smirking, knowing exactly what he was doing.

HE NEEDS TO BE STOPPED.

YOU ARE BLUSHING SO HARD YOU MIGHT COOK YOURSELF.

Darkest caught it.

"God forbid you let them cook in peace, bruv" Darkest called out.

"Man's tryna be the side dish" Darkest added with a laugh.

"Don't worry about me, man" Chunkz said with a smug smile.

When you finally started putting the dish together. Slightly less clumsily because your inner monologue has officially left the building.

When the food was finally plated, you wiped your hands on your apron, heart hammering.

Eventually, food gets made. Somehow.

Plated, served, looking halfway edible.

You step back, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

This was it, judgement day.

Darkest took the first bite. Chewed thoughtfully.

"Okay... okay..." Darkest said, nodding slowly.

"This is edible, I'm genuinely shocked" Darkest added.

"Don't even try it, this is nice" Harry said as he shoved him playfully.

They argued for a bit, in the way guys do when they don't know how to give real compliments.

But Chunkz? Chunkz just watched you, swirling his fork lazily through his food without taking a bite yet.

You raised an eyebrow.

"You scared?" You teased, finally feeling a little bit brave.

Chunkz grinned.

"Nah" Chunkz said, leaning forward on his elbows, gaze heavy.

"Just savoring the view before I tuck in" Chunkz added.

You blinked.

"Oh no, get him a leash" Darkest said as he coughed violently into his napkin.

"Signing his life away, mad" Harry said as he just shook his head, pretending to fill out imaginary marriage papers on his plate.

Chunkz just stared at you, fork swirling dramatically through the rice.

"I haven't even tried it yet" Chunkz said.

"I'm still full from watching you all day" Chunkz added.

EXCUSE. ME.

You choked on air.

"Someone take his mic, man" Darkest mutters

"Man's flirting like he's trying to get tax benefits" Harry said as he grabs his phone like he's live-tweeting.

Chunkz shrugs, still looking at you.

"I'm just saying" Chunkz said, softer now.

"You walk into the kitchen looking like that, of course I'm hungry" Chunkz added.

Your brain went. blown fuse. rebooting. system not found.

But for once, they didn't shout. They didn't ruin it. They just let you two... sit there. Eyes locked. Playing with fire.

Chunkz finally lifted his fork, took a bite and let out a noise that made your entire soul combust.

"Yeah" Chunkz said, eyes twinkling.

"You're dangerous" Chunkz added.

After filming wrapped and the cameras stopped rolling. The crew packed up. You're pretending to clean just to delay leaving. Harry and Darkest wandered off somewhere, giving you a suspicious amount of space.

You lingered by the counter, pretending to tidy up. Chunkz came up behind you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body but not quite touching but it felt like personal space is now a myth

"You did good" Chunkz said.

"Real good, impressed me" Chunkz added.

"Thanks, you weren't too bad at... distracting me" You said with a smile, looking down.

"Let me make it up to you then" Chunkz said as he let out a small smile.

"You free after this?" Chunkz asked casually, almost too casual.

"Depends, why?" You said as you glanced over your shoulder, heart stuttering.

"Thinking maybe... we skip the cameras next time. You cook for me proper, no distractions" Chunkz said as he shrugged, smiling like he already knew the answer.

You tried to play it cool. Tried so hard but you turned too fast and bumped into him.

And he didn't move back. He just stood there. Close enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something fresh and warm and way too unfair.

"You down?" Chunkz asked again, voice low.

"Depends" You said, pretending to think.

"You still gonna flirt with me the whole time?" You asked with a genuine smile.

"Babe, if you think this was flirting.." Chunkz said, stepping closer, voice dropping

"Wait until there's no cameras" Chunkz said as his grin returned, wider this time.

You swallowed hard.

He pulled out his phone, tapping it against your arm.

"Put your number in, I'll send you a proper invite. Dress code.. cute aprons only" Chunkz said.

You laughed, taking the phone. Chunkz grinned, slow and real.

"You bringing the same game you brought today?" You asked teasingly.

"Better" Chunkz said.

"Tonight, I'm bringing dessert too" Chunkz added pointing to himself with a smirk.

You were seconds away from saying something stupid like "YES I WILL BEAR YOUR CHILDREN" instead you blacked out. Emotionally. Spiritually. Thermally.

You nodded, weakly. Because speech has abandoned you.

You knew exactly what he meant and when he brushed his fingers lightly against yours like casual and like it didn't mean anything, you knew you were completely finished.

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! Actually? No notes today, just the same reminder.

I hope y'all have an amazing day, absolute love and guidance.

As I said everytime, send in some request and ideas!!

#beta squad #beta squad x reader #chunkz #niko omilana #king kenny #sharky #aj shabeel #aziwrites #chunkz x reader #show my man chunkz some love bruu #chunkz imagine #beta squad imagine #british youtubers

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httpiastri · 2 years ago

Text

charles leclerc x sainz!reader, 18+ mentions

charles is waiting for you outside the club once your uber arrives. it's like he knew when you were going to arrive, like he had a tracker on you – or like he was just waiting for the first best person to get his hands on.

"if it isn't my favorite sainz sibling," he says when he opens the car door for you, his handsome grin flashing down at you as you step out. "had a good day in the paddock?"

"probably better than you," you joke, your hand landing on his shoulder to give him an apologetic rub. "my brother was upgraded to the podium, but you were disqualified, so..."

"shit happens." charles shrugs before snaking his arm around your waist, leading you into the club. "my day is about to get a lot better, though."

a chuckle leaves your mouth. his fingers move up and down your side as you make your way to the bar, and charles slows down every once in a while to greet some friends and other acquaintances.

you wonder what this looks like to those who don't know. you attached to his hip, his tight grip on your side, your body leaning against his. but to those who do know, the sight is nothing strange or unusual. despite how much you both try to deny it – not only to others but also to yourselves – you're drawn to each other like magnets.

"buy me a drink, will you?" you ask.

he's facing you now, and his hand still hasn't left your hip. "no, i don't think so." you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side at his words. "i know what it would lead to. and we both made a promise not to go there, didn't we?"

"maybe so. but..." you pull your fingers through your hair, shaking out your locks. "what if i make it up to you?"

"and how would you do that?"

you pretend to think about it for a moment, pursing your lips. "i'll tell you the color of my panties."

charles pauses, his mouth dropping slightly open as his expression grows blank. you can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you have to let out a laugh.

"oh, you're actually considering it?" you ask teasingly, shooting him a wink as he just blinks at you.

his free hand drags across his face and he drags his hand down his face. his voice is low when he speaks. "shit, you can't just say that."

"why?"

he groans and his eyes wander across the room, hoping that looking away will save his cheeks from growing even hotter than they already are. "it makes me think things i shouldn't think about. not when i'm trying to stay away from you."

your hand on his cheek makes him look back down at you. you know what he's thinking, you can see it in his eyes. he wants you – and you want him too. "you hate it, don't you?" you smile up at him. "me being your teammate's sister?"

"so much."

your hand moves from his cheek to his neck, fingers playing with the short strands for a moment. you have to step closer to reach the back of his head, dragging your hand through his digits as his warm breath fans over your face. his adams apple bobs when he gulps, his eyes hazy and gaze weak.

it's so easy for you to get to charles. you always leave him feeling weak in his knees, like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs, like the annual butterfly convention is located in his stomach.

you know he won't be able to refrain. he'll have to give in.

"this would get so messy," he says, voice low as a whisper.

the dress you're wearing is so short that charles doesn't have to reach far down to find the edge of it. his fingers pinch the material, the corners of his lips turning up when it rides up even higher on your thigh. "you know it's worth it, though," you answer simply, trying your best not to lose your cool. you don't want him to see what effect his actions have on you – you are supposed to be the teasing one.

his thumb draws circles into the inside of your thigh, and you squeeze your legs together instinctively. the action reminds him of how he's seen you before, legs clenched around him with your hands in his hair just like now, and the thought causes his brain to short-circuit (and the tent in his pants grow). he shakes his head, unwillingly pulling his hand away from you to grab your hand. "okay. you win," he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours. he pulls your hand up to his mouth to place a quick kiss on the back of it, as if to show you that he isn't actually as upset as the playful frown on his face tells you, before dragging you with him to the door again.

"i always do, don't i?"

"shut it."

"wait, i wanted you to buy me a drink-"

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