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1d1195 · 26 days ago

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Pucking Rookie VI

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8.5k words

From me: last part for now 💕 thank you for all the support on this 😍

Warnings: violence Kael, some injuries, anger, some fluff and reassurance.

Summary: She is trying her hardest to keep Harry out; but would it be that bad to let him in?

Has Harry mentioned how much he hates Kael Crowe?

Harry had his hands in his pockets while they skated alongside each other. With gloves on her hands, she held them out slightly at her sides for balance. From someone looking at her, she probably still looked like a toddler when she skated. But she didn’t need Harry to skate backward in front of her anymore, which was a win in her book.

The chill in the air made her nose red and she looked so cute. She was all bundled, nice and warm. Harry wanted to find mistletoe even though it was well past Christmas. Granted, he would have done just about anything to kiss her. She bit her lip when she concentrated, especially while skating. The same expression when she focused on the eye piece of her camera making sure the picture would turn out perfectly. Harry swore his smile was going to split his face in half just looking at her.

Unlike her, Harry looked so at ease. She loved seeing him on his used skates, the ones that he clearly had for years and weren’t for the show of his games and because of his sponsors. He looked so tranquil and happy. The ice was his happy place. It almost seemed more natural for him to be on skates than it did on solid ground.

Also unlike Harry, she was not smiling. Especially not smiling like the joy was going to burst out of him like a princess singing a song.

“Y’look more comfortable on y’skates.”

“Mm,” she shrugged. “It’s getting easier.”

Harry noted that she had seemed a bit more introverted the last couple of days—a little more withdrawn. Something was clearly bothering her, and he couldn’t quite place it himself. Callie flirting with her didn’t even faze her (although it certainly fazed Harry). When she directed the guys to pose, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t joke about Asher’s good side (or lack thereof, in Harry’s opinion—especially when Asher insisted that she tell him he had a good side). At The Locker Room she didn’t laugh as much, and she didn’t invite Harry inside when he made sure she got home safely. “Rookie, is something wrong?”

“No.”

But she answered way too quickly. Immediately, Harry did an about face, turned to skate in front of her, gliding backwards so effortlessly. One eyebrow quirked up in question. “Talk t’me, Rookie,” he encouraged.

She took a deep breath. “We’re going to play The Wolves,” she reminded him. Harry had seen the schedule; he knew the game was coming up.

What did that have to do with anything? “Yeah,” he nodded. “So?”

She stopped skating, executing her little stop perfectly. Harry was so proud of her abilities and how much better she had gotten with practice over the last couple of months. Still, she looked upset. She rolled her lips into her mouth as she worked through whatever was going through her brain. “I don’t want you to get into it with Kael.”

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Is that what you’re worried ‘bout? Why you’ve been so quiet the last few days?” She shrugged and looked away from his face. “Rookie, do y’think distancing yourself from me for a couple of shitty days is going t’make me less likely t’fight that sorry excuse for a man?” She glanced at him briefly, her cheeks turning pink under his assumption. His very correct assumption. “Bunny,” he frowned.

She sighed heavily. “It’s just... you’ll get in trouble, and I don’t want that, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I can barely handle it when you get checked into the boards. I’m always worried you have a concussion,” she grumbled.

Harry felt a tug in his chest over her sweet words. “You like me, Rookie," he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

She glared at him. “Shut up, I do not.”

“You care about me.”

“I care about you the same way I care about Niall or..." he was praying she wouldn't say it. But she was feisty--one of Harry's favoirte things about her; so of course she was going to say it. "...Kian.”

He scoffed and narrowed his eyes at her. The flirtatious smile left his mouth. “S’not the same way y’care ‘bout Callie, Rookie. Not even a little.”

“You’re so ridiculous about Kian, Harry.”

“Stop calling him that. And quit distracting me,” he grumbled. Taking a deep breath he shook his head of thoughts regarding his least favorite teammate (which was a real shame because other than Niall, Harry loved Callie). Sighing, he smirked again as he watched her avoid his eyes. “You like me, Bunny.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Of course I like you Harry,” she rolled her eyes as she mumbled the sentiment.

“Yeah, but you like-like me.”

“Are you six?”

He ignored her fake insult and leaned in to peck her cheek. “I like-like you too,” he whispered in her ear.

She shoved him gently, but her cheeks remained flushed with color. “You’re insane.”

He took her hand and tugged her toward him to continue skating. “I don’t care ‘bout Crowe,” he said quietly. “I don’t want y’worrying ‘bout me over him. The last time we saw him... hopefully that got the message across,” he squeezed her hand. It was nice to pull her along now that she could skate better. He liked holding her hand. Touching her in general was one of his favorite past times. “M’worried ‘bout you seeing him again.”

“Well, I’m going to wear my number eleven jersey,” she smiled brightly at the thought. Harry thought he had won MVP, the championship game, all rolled into one. “So maybe you’re right. Maybe he’ll get the message.”

The face-splitting grin was back. “Yeah?” He spun again so he was in front of her, this time he pulled her flush against him. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss her. “Didn’t think y’would be one t’make someone intentionally jealous.”

She shrugged. “If you don’t want to be part of my plan, I could always wear Niall’s jersey, or Lang’s, or even Cal—”

“Do not finish that thought, Rookie,” he growled and pressed her face into his body where she laughed silently against him, shaking as she giggled. “You’re mine.”

The arena where The Glacier Wolves played truly felt like enemy territory. There was something palpable in the air; you could practically taste the venom coming from both teams. The last time they played, the whole team was pissed at Kael. She tried to keep her distance, but she felt the stares of the guys coming from every angle. Harry’s name and number were all over her body. She kept to herself staying by the media and press at the other end of the rink so that she wouldn’t distract the team.

“Is she good?” Charlie asked Harry.

Harry glanced toward the other end, finding her immediately in black and silver. “Think so,” he shrugged hoping it wouldn't be too obvious he was in love with his coach's niece.

“Styles,” Charlie’s voice was deeper somehow, filled with intensity. Harry looked at his coach. Instantly he swallowed nervously, seeing the seriousness on his face that clearly had nothing to do with hockey.

“Coach?”

“You’re going to take care of her?”

“With my life, sir,” Harry vowed.

Charlie ran a hand over his face and then through his hair as he pushed it back. Harry could see the anxiety all over his face. “You hurt one hair on her head, I’ll bench you for the rest of your career.”

Harry smirked and nodded. That wouldn't be a problem. Harry would welcome it. Plus, he appreciated the approval. “That seems fair t’me.”

“If you hit Crowe a little too hard today, I’ll look the other way. Or chip in on the fine.”

Harry smiled brightly. “You got it, Coach.”

Kael found Harry on the ice almost as soon as the game started. Both started essentially in the same position as the puck was dropped between Asher and Kael’s teammate. It was the matchup of the league. Every news outlet was talking about it leading up to the game. Two of the biggest names in hockey. Old rivals playing against one another just like old times. The shit-talking that ensued made him crazy but he tried to keep his cool for her.

Each time he was checked into the boards, he remembered her sweet face saying she worried about him. Harry didn’t want a single penalty (well, that wasn’t true. He wanted to knock every single one of Crowe’s teeth out). Instead, he caught a glimpse of her at the glass the camera lens pressed through the cutout for the media. His jersey with his name and number all over her.

He wasn’t going to fight Crowe.

Fortunately, Harry’s team was having a hell of a time doing it on his behalf. Collectively there had been almost one full period worth of penalties. Callie cheered from the penalty box when Asher laid Crowe into the boards. Their level-headed captain even got sent to the box for two minutes with a smile on his face. Niall didn’t let a single one of Crowe’s shots get past him. And maybe Niall tripped him up when he got too close to the net.

As such, the Chargers played short-handed almost the entire second period, yet they were still winning at the second intermission.

It didn’t stop Crowe from his onslaught of shit-talking despite being down. He told Harry how terrible he was, how shitty his stick handling was, and that he kept missing obvious shots. All his comments seemed to be a projection of how terrible he was playing and perhaps it was because the pretty photographer wearing Harry’s jersey added it to the mind games in Kael's head.

Maybe Harry would have to rethink the whole jealousy ploy she had going on. It was a nice touch (especially when he wasn’t subject to the feeling).

Harry smirked as he stood across from Crowe while they dropped the puck. Almost immediately Crowe slashed at him. Earning zero penalties and no looks from the ref. Harry growled but remained calm. He was only keeping calm for her and only her. Otherwise, he would have added himself to the penalty box. It would mean more to Crowe than it did to Harry if he lashed out about the pretty photographer.

There was only a minute left in the game and Crowe’s team was down by two, so it was sure as hell a win in the Chargers book. But Harry wasn’t celebrating until the piece of shit was off the ice.

With no one in the Wolves’ net, Harry stole the puck away from Kael and slapped it directly into the back of the net. He grinned brightly as his team cheered and tackled him, pressing him into the glass right near the pretty girl who had the camera pressed to her face. He winked at her amidst the madness and Harry couldn’t help but notice how big her smile—not even the camera obstructed how joyful she looked.

As the buzzer signaled the end of the game, Harry and his team skated for their bench. They were happy to win, but they were all thrilled to get off the enemy’s ice.

“Enjoy my sloppy seconds Styles.”

Harry could take the comments about his effort, his ability, his looks, anything.

But he would not, under any circumstance, take criticism about the lovely girl at the other end of the ice.

Harry skated right in front of Crowe standing almost the same height as him, marveling happily at how he was a couple inches taller than his opponent. “What the fuck did you say, Crowe?”

“Harry!” Niall shouted skating back onto the ice almost instantly. Camera flashes from every angle ensued.

“Styles!” Ray shouted from nearby.

“It’s not just talent and ability you want from me, you have to take my girl?”

“She’s not yours, you piece of shit,” Harry was gripping his stick tight, talking through gritted teeth.

“Harry!” She screamed—her voice was far away but Harry could pick it out of a sea of people.

“You couldn’t find your own girl, had to take mine. Don’t worry, I stretched her out for you. She’s a good lay—” Harry dropped his stick and gloves with a quiet thunk on the ice. By then his teammates made it to him, Callie and Asher lunged for him holding him back.

“Crowe, walk the fuck away!” Asher snapped. Harry pushed against him as he got in the fray; he could only imagine what the announcers were saying as they watched two of the top players in the league get dangerously close to fighting after the game had ended.

“Charlie!” She shouted, her voice was closer but not close enough.

“Harry don’t do it,” Callie begged. “Walk away," he tried to plead calmly. "Go get her and you can take her—”

“That’s right listen to every one of your teammates and that naggy bitc—”

Right as he clenched his hands into fists, he felt her soft, delicate fingers wrapping around his hands. She was on the ice. Unsteady and standing in front of him in just her boots. “Hey, look at me,” she begged her eyes a bit wild.

“Bunny—” He started his teeth clenched together. "Get out--"

“Cute, well you got one thing right, Styles. She’s a dumb little puck bunny.”

She shoved Harry as much as she could while he tried to get away from her gentle touch. “Sweetheart,” Asher warned.

Crowe laughed. “You sleeping with the whole team, baby? One whole team to replace me?”

She spun on her heel, nearly sliding to the ground, but Harry caught her by the elbow because he was certain his first priority would always be to take care of her no matter what. “Your problem is with me, Kael,” she snapped. “So, if you’re going to pick fights, pick it with the person you have an actual problem with, you coward.”

“I’m not the one calling you a puck bunny, baby. They are. You must like it if they all call you one,” he teased with a shrug. He knew she didn’t. She said it all the time while they dated. “That’s what you get for riding dick like it’s your job, Bunny,” his tone was antagonizing. Who was he trying to get a rise out of? Was it Harry? It couldn’t have been. Harry was already pissed. Was it her? Maybe. She already hated him.

“Get off the fucking ice!” Charlie shouted.

No one moved. Except Harry who was dying to get his hands on Kael.

Kael took his helmet off and looked at her. “You’re nothing but a groupie, baby. When Harry’s done with you, you’ll come crawling back. You have nothing.”

She was shaking, perhaps as badly as the rest of the team was. She wanted to smack him across his stupid fucking face, but she was trying to remain composed with so many cameras on her. This was already going to be a PR nightmare, and it was all her fault. Although she was sure none of the guys would care, it bothered her. Just another reason to add to how she fucked with the team’s energy and made everything different since her arrival.

“Kael, just stop. Leave me alone,” she hissed.

“Or what, baby?” He taunted. “Your group of fuck buddies will go after me?”

“Watch it,” Harry snarled still straining against Callie and Asher.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, pushing her hands into Harry's chest behind her. He slid backwards a little to create more space between them. “This isn’t worth it,” she said loud enough for Kael to hear.

However, he wasn't accepting their escape. Their way to take the higher ground. But before she could get away, Kael grabbed her arm, hard.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Truly, suspended in disbelief as she gasped. "Ow, Kael!” She yelped.

“Oh, fuck no,” Harry growled lowly.

“Shit,” Callie grabbed at Harry harder and yanked him back before he could kill Crowe on a live broadcast.

Niall and Lang stepped forward as Asher helped Callie hold Harry back. “Let go of her fucking wrist, Crowe,” Niall said putting a hand on her back.

“You have two seconds to let go of her,” Lang added at the same time.

“Let fucking go of me,” Harry thrashed against his teammates.

She bent awkwardly trying to get her arm back, gasping at the pressure he pitted against her so effortlessly. “HEY!” It was Ray who shouted. “That’s enough! Crowe, let go of my niece or I’ll kill you!”

But Charlie was already on the move, next to Crowe in the blink of an eye. He was shorter than the bulky, built hockey player on skates by a head or maybe even two. Without hesitation he reached for Kael’s neck as if he were the same height and pressed on the space between his neck and clavicle. Within seconds, Kael was gasping, he dropped her arm instantly.

There wasn’t a break in his movements, everything fluid like he was skating on the ice as Charlie shoved his niece backwards making her lose her balance, but Harry caught her just before she hit the ground. “Everyone off the fucking ice!” Coach yelled.

Harry had never been so relieved to have her in his embrace as he skated off the ice, pushing her forward quickly even though he wanted to kill Kael.

“Are you alright, Sweetheart?” Callie asked.

“Shut the fuck up, Callie,” Harry snarled.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“Jesus, Styles, I just wanted—”

“Shut. Up. Don’t ever get in my way like that Calloway, not when she’s—”

“Harry,” she repeated stronger as she nearly had to race to catch up to them on their long legs—even with skates. She grabbed his hand, still balled into a shaking fist. She gave it a gentle squeeze. “Kian isn’t the bad guy here,” she reminded him. Harry glared at his teammate, shoulders heaving with each angry breath. After a moment he nodded, his jaw flexing tautly as he did.

“Sorry, Callie,” she whispered, squeezing his arm which made Harry huff out a breath and look away. He strongly considered snapping his stick in half. Again.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart. We all get a little crazy about you,” he smirked. “Harry,” he nodded and headed into the locker room. She turned to Harry to remind him that his teammates weren’t the problem, ever.

“Are you alright?” Charlie asked, catching up as they stopped in front of the locker room.

Harry stared at her unsurely waiting for her answer with bated breath. She nodded, putting on a brave face. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?” Harry asked, taking a heaving breath. His hands were still shaking at his sides.

She nodded. “I’m fine,” because she was. There might be a bruise on her arm from the grip he had, but she wasn’t in pain anymore. He didn’t break anything (which was a horrifying thought) but it wasn’t any less true. “Please go change, I want to get out of here,” she urged. Harry’s eyes flicked to Charlie before he went into the locker room after his teammates. She twisted her wrist once he was out of sight. Charlie narrowed his eyes at the movement.

“Are you—”

Quickly with an awful realization, she touched her neck. “Oh fuck, I left my camera,” she grumbled rubbing her hand over her face.

Charlie was staring at her just as unsurely. “I’ll have someone go get it.”

“No, it’s fine,” she shook her head. “I need the walk, the air,” she sighed.

“I have a press conference. I can skip it. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Positive. I’m sorry I caused all this,” she frowned. “I really feel like you didn’t ask for any of this with the team.”

“Hey Sweetheart?” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I always hated Crowe,” he smiled. “You were way too good for him. If the whole team got in trouble for hurting him, well, that would be worth it in my book. If he ever touches you again, I think the whole team will kill him.”

“Well, we have a whole season to prepare for that,” she smirked sadly. “Thank you, Uncle Charlie.”

“Anything for you Sweetheart. Go take a few breaths,” he squeezed her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Wish you slapped him; you earned it,” he winked over his shoulder as he headed for the media room.

She smiled and took several deep breaths calming herself as much as she could as she walked back down the tunnel to the rink. She had been in the very arena hundreds of times. It never felt like home. Not the way The Arctic Chargers arena felt. In a shorter amount of time at that. The idea that she had ever thought she could live her life in this arena feeling like she was less was crazy. Especially when Harry and the entire team made her feel so important.

She said hello and waved to people she recognized from her days spent watching Kael. Her new media friends said hello as well. She waved to the man driving the Zamboni and snagged her camera off the visiting bench that she dropped there when she saw Kael antagonizing Harry from across the rink. She couldn’t believe she nearly lost it in all the commotion; but she supposed for Harry, it was worth it. It could have been a lot worse.

Following Charlie’s advice, she continued breathing deeply. Hoping to calm herself from the inside out. She was glad she didn’t hit Kael. As much as she wanted to. With her luck, he would have pressed charges or something. It would have played right into his act.

Hopefully everyone saw the way he grabbed her wrist.

For several seconds, she sat on the bench, her head between her knees breathing and collecting herself. Harry looked murderous. She hoped he showered and felt better. She would have to thank Callie and Asher again for holding him back before he did something terrible.

Sighing, she stood, headed for the locker room once more. Relieved there would once more be a whole year between now and the next game she would have to see Kael next season. She was going to forget about any of her stuff at their old apartment. He could have it. It didn’t matter. As long as she had her camera, she could make everything else work. She looked at the screen to continue calming herself. As soon as the boys were ready, they would head to the hotel and get some sleep before a red eye flight home. Her hotel room bed sounded like heaven (even if it was going to be missing a number eleven in her blankets).

She was so ready for this day to be over.

Right as she exited the tunnel and headed down the hall toward the locker room, she was shoved against the wall, hard. She didn’t know how the guys got checked into the boards all the time. Even with padding on that had to have hurt—and multiple times? Forget it. She felt an ache all over her back. The air in her lungs was displaced and she moaned as she tried to breathe through it. It felt like her body was one giant bruise in a matter of seconds.

Kael held her in place. His eyes dark and his face expressionless. “You’re a lot more vulnerable without a hockey team behind you.”

She gaped, as he easily yanked her camera from her grip and dropped it to the ground. Her eyes watered at the sound of all the mechanical pieces cracking. She whimpered. “Kael,” she gasped as the air slowly returned. “Let me go.”

“You were good for my image, baby,” he crooned. “Didn’t you like living the luxurious lifestyle?” He skimmed the back of his finger along her cheek. Other than a helmet and gloves, he was still in all his gear, skates, and pads, so he towered imposingly over her. She whimpered again. “You have no power here,” he reminded her pinning her in place by pressing close to her. If anyone walked by, they would think it was just a heated form of foreplay. His legs caged her in. His body holding her in place.

His hand closed around her throat.

“Stop,” she begged squirming to get away from him.

“You’re pathetic. You think just because your uncle is a coach and your new boyfriend is a sorry excuse of a look-a-like for me that you can do whatever you want,” his voice was low, threatening. If it wasn’t immediately following a game maybe someone would have seen the interaction. But instead, the players were in the locker room, coaches in the media room, other workers in the arena. It was just the pair of them. “You’re nothing, baby. You’ve got nothing.”

He was good. Waiting until she was most vulnerable. Even if she was lucky enough for someone to come by, she was certain he made it so he didn’t look like he was harming her or speaking terrible things to her.

But she was right there. Hearing every menacing word. Every word meant to cut her deeper than any physical harm he could cause her. “You’re nothing but a groupie, baby. You’ll always be a dumb puck bunny.”

“Please,” she croaked, gasping for breath. Her squirming wasn’t enough, he was too strong, and Lord knew how long until the boys would come out of the locker room and Charlie out of the press conference. No one was coming to her rescue.

She clawed at his arms, but the pads protected him. Everything was protected which seemed like a metaphor she couldn’t quite put together right now.

Everything except the hand on her throat.

She bent her head at an awkward angle allowing air to flow just enough. Thrashing against his hold hoping he would slip just a bit. He didn’t notice she was trying to reach for his hand. He must have assumed she was trying to escape. It didn’t have to be a lot she just needed something to give.

When it did finally give, she wasted no time. His hand moved just enough so that she could bend her neck completely. Once she could, she bit down as hard as she could on his finger.

She bit so hard that she tasted blood.

“What the fuck!” He growled yanking away instinctively. She didn’t waste a second and bolted. He was on skates, and she was in her boots so for once in an ice arena she had the speed advantage, and she wasn’t going to lose that.

Without really noticing where her feet carried her, the locker room burst open before her. She couldn’t even see because her eyes were blurred over with tears. She choked out a sob as the door shut behind her.

“Bunny?” Harry sounded concerned, curious, and confused all in one little word that she hated so much (especially right now) but loved when Harry said it.

“Oh hell,” Asher whispered. It was quiet then, no one moving, or speaking.

“Harry?” She cried, unable to see as she wiped uselessly at her face to rid herself of the tears and she pressed her other hand to the top of her chest trying to stop her heart from flying out of her ribcage and soothe the ache and burn of knowing his hand was on her neck. The other hand went to her mouth. Her face tilted down, and her hair fell in front of her face.

If the team was naked, she wouldn’t even know. Her vision wasn’t clear enough to see an inch in front of her.

“Bunny?” He repeated, his voice closer, his hands gently caressing her face. A massive juxtaposition to how Kael held her moments before. “Kitten,” he turned her neck ever so gently inspecting every inch of her face. ��What happened?”

“H-he broke m-my camera,” she sniffled and swiped at her eyes. With a little more clarity, she could see Harry was half undressed, just his practice jersey and compression pants on him. He was sweaty and never looked hotter and she was a goddamn wreck.

“I’ll kill him,” but it was Niall who growled out the sentiment. Before another word could be uttered, she heard the locker-room door open.

“Oh fuck,” Lang was quick to follow.

“Bunny,” Harry crouched slightly to meet her gaze. “Kitten, what happened?” He repeated. She shook her head, her cries catching in her throat again. She buried her face into his chest and sobbed. Harry cupped the back of her head, curling around her protectively the way he always seemed to when she cried. “Fuck, Bunny,” he frowned. His lips found her ear. “Did he touch you?” He asked.

She nodded. The rest of the team must have already anticipated what she was upset over, because it was even quieter than when she entered. She felt Harry start shaking again. It started from the center of his body outward. She imagined his toes were shaking. Fully vibrating with anger. “I’m gonna kill him,” Harry’s voice was so low and so terrifying she shivered.

“Please don’t leave me,” she sniffled.

He groaned and tightened his grip on her. “Y’killing me, Rookie,” he mumbled.

“I just want to go home, please,” she begged her voice breaking.

His heart broke. “We’re heading to the hotel soon, and I’ll drive y’home when we land, Bunny, I promise,” he assured her. The thought of leaving her alone was repulsive. Almost as much as this whole moment with Kael.

“No... take me home with you,” she whispered.

Well, if there was one way to keep him sane, he supposed that would be it. “Take you home?” He repeated. “My home?”

She nodded. “Please, I don’t want to be away from you.”

Make that, two ways to keep him sane.

She refused to say what he did specifically. He didn’t do anything but hold her in the hotel bed until the team left in the middle of the night for their red eye flight. He sat next to her on the bus and the plane, carrying her stuff and wincing every time she sniffled. He combed his fingers through her hair, refusing to let go of her for anything other than the bathroom. He made sure she drank enough water and had medicine for all the aches she endured.

Charlie was fuming in his seat. Between what happened and her lack of response about what happened, he may have sent Harry several messages regarding how he would enjoy going to jail if Harry hurt her. He ignored those messages for the time being. But he did pay attention to the one where Charlie said he was looking into getting the security footage pulled before Kael could swipe it from the arena.

The team had no problem messaging Kael. The coward left before anyone could find him. Niall found her camera shattered to bits on the floor. Callie pulled the memory card from the wreck but there wasn’t anything that could be done to save the equipment.

Except of course, Harry ordered her a new, top-of-the-line camera while she showered in his bathroom.

After what felt like hours but was only maybe half at most, she finally exited the bathroom. Harry turned from lying on his bed to sitting on the edge watching her immediately. Her eyes were red-rimmed, hair damp. She looked adorable even when she was sad, and it was so unfair. She was wearing a T-shirt Harry pulled from one of his drawers. It had the Chargers logo across the front, and he wished more than anything it had his name on the back.

“Did that help?” He asked.

She nodded but held the towel out to him. “I don’t know where to put this,” she avoided his gaze which had to be next to impossible because Harry couldn’t tear his away from her. He took the towel and tossed it toward the corner of the room where his hamper lived, although he hadn’t done laundry in a week, and so the towel fell off the side to the pile beside it.

“Bunny,” he murmured. “Look at me please,” he whispered.

She shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m so embarrassed, I’ll cry again.”

“Y’have nothing t’be embarrassed ‘bout, Rookie, love,” his voice was gentle, he reached for her hip and pulled her toward him, opening his legs so she fit between his thighs. “What did he do?” He asked, keeping one hand on her hip and the other traveled up her arm, cupped the side of her neck and slid along to her face.

“You’ll get mad,” she whispered.

“M’already mad, kitten,” he reminded her.

“What is with you and the animal names?” Her voice was soft.

“You’re an adorable creature, Bunny, I don’t have a choice,” he smirked, spoke just as quietly as she did, but not falling for her dodging what he wanted to know. “Don’t distract me,” he brushed his fingertips softly along the outline of her face.

“You’ll be mad at me.”

“Never, Rookie. M’never mad at you,” he hoped he sounded as reassuring as he wanted to be. It was true. He was never mad at her.

“I bit his finger,” she mumbled. “Really hard.”

Harry tilted his head. “You what?”

“He...” she swallowed and pressed her face into the space of his shoulder and neck hiding. “He was choking me,” her voice was so quiet Harry had to strain to hear it. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the anger to stay at bay so she wouldn’t be scared. “And I couldn’t move and... and I just needed the right angle, so I bit his finger. Really hard. I tasted blood,” she explained.

Harry chuckled despite everything. “Good girl,” he pulled her to him and squeezed her tight. “And y’came t’me?” he mumbled thoughtfully cupping her face watching her eyes. He brushed his thumb along her cheek. It was selfish of him to ask when she was hurt. But he couldn't help it. She was his whole world whether she knew it or not and he needed to know.

“I didn’t want anyone else,” her skin turned the slightest pink. “Is that okay?”

Harry’s heart softened. “Yeah, Bunny. S’really okay,” he assured her, then he pulled her back against his shoulder, tucking her into his embrace. “The guys couldn’t find him... the coward,” he snipped.

Harry felt a smile on her lips warm his skin. He grinned half-heartedly and swayed her gently. “For the best,” she admitted. “I like your room,” she whispered glancing around. “Maybe I will take it.”

“S’fine with me,” he shrugged.

She stared at him pointedly. “I don’t want to live here for free.”

“Oh, come on, Rookie I have a hundred rooms with nothing in them.”

“I won’t live here for free.”

“Fine, but you’re not paying rent-prices. Y’can buy groceries or pay the electric bill. Or maybe the Internet bill. But not all three.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re keeping the car.”

“Certifiable.”

“Harry, are you awake?” She whispered.

“Mmm,” he hummed sleepily. Her soft voice in his bed was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. It was the first time they slept in his bed. Harry was a lot of things, and it was evident that possessive was a major one. He loved sleeping in her tiny bed when there was no room, so she always ended up burrowing into his side. Still, there something about having her in his room, his bed, wrapped in his blankets that made the Neanderthalic part of his mind undeniably happy. He kept space between them, as he always tried to maintain when they shared a bed. But he felt a compulsion to hold her hand between them as he stared at the ceiling unable to sleep thinking about how much he hated someone who hurt the pretty woman beside him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Bunny,” he whispered quietly shaking his head. “Y’never have t’thank me. Not for that.”

“I do though,” she sounded like she was nodding. “I don’t know why you like me so much. Like... from the start... and still. I’ve been nothing but trouble.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think s’true. And does that matter from the start?”

“I don’t know... it never really happened to me before...” she trailed off. “Kael and I were just around each other for a while—got to know each other and it made sense. Then we were together for a really long time... I never had someone just like me for me, right away without knowing anything else about me. I guess I’m just worried that if... if you do like me—and I do believe you when you say you do—it will change because it changed for him. I’m not that special, you know? I’m not a celebrity. I just take pictures and—”

Harry sighed, if he was visible in the night, she would see him rolling his eyes at the ceiling and shaking his head. “Y’know I had a bunch of contacts for women for all the different cities we visit, right?” He interrupted. It wasn’t the best segue in conversation, and it probably wasn’t a nice thing to hear when he was trying to convince her he liked her infinitely more than he ever liked anybody. Especially after the day she had.

There was a slight pause. If she said something like that to Harry, he would be jealous for days and would probably have to break another hockey stick. So, he was well aware he needed to give her a second to think through her emotions. “Yeah...?” Her voice was quiet again. Unsure.

He reached beside him for his phone on his nightstand. He unlocked it, turned the brightness down, blinking awkwardly against it so he wouldn’t hurt her eyes as well. He opened his messages and handed it to her.

There were a good number of unsaved numbers listed in the threads. Many had the same start of each message previewed before clicking on it. I am deleting your number because I’ve met—

“Harry,” she said softly.

“Open one,” he offered.

She shook her head. “Harry, you didn’t do anything—I don’t want to go through—”

He reached over and tapped on one of the messages.

—a really lovely girl and I want to take it seriously. I won’t be contacting you anymore... You were a great person to know. I wish you all the best. Xx Harry

“Harry,” she whispered breathlessly.

Only some had answered. From what she could see, most who had responded thought it was sweet; they understood where he was coming from, it was kind of him to reach out and not leave them hanging. Some were less happy for him but since they all knew what they signed up for, none appeared to be outright angry or derisive. Harry took his phone back and opened his contacts. If the unsaved numbers were to be believed, he should have had plenty more contacts listed. Instead, it was just teammates, coaches, his family.

And hers. Rookie 📷🐇

She bit her lip.

“I think ‘ve been waiting for you, Rookie, love. I never wanted someone more,” he put his phone back. “M’not kidding. I’ll wait forever,” he promised. She felt her face crumple in half. Emotional over and in complete disbelief that someone so kind and sweet was willing to wait for her when he could truly have anyone he wanted. Someone way more talented and beautiful than her. "Go t'sleep, Bunny," he whispered softly and pressed a kiss to her temple. "We can talk 'bout it tomorrow."

Harry made sure she had everything she needed for the day; he snuck into her phone to turn her alarm off. He put a note on the bedside table. No work today. Enjoy playing hooky, Bunny. But please stay so I can see you when I come home. She wished she had her camera so she could take a picture of the note, but her phone would suffice for now. She dreaded the thought of purchasing a new camera. But she needed to deal with one thing at a time. First of which meant breakfast and coffee. She headed to the kitchen after using the bathroom.

The doorbell rang at the exact same time. She peered through the window and saw a man in a black shirt with a green apron. She tilted her head. “Rookie?” He asked tentatively.

“Uh... yeah?”

“Here you go,” he handed her a drink—her favorite coffee and the man left.

She blinked. “How many times have you been here?”

“I was instructed to come every half hour with a fresh drink and wait five minutes until you answered,” he explained backing toward his car. She smirked sipping it. It was delicious.

“Did he pay you at least?” She called tapping her fingers against the plastic.

“Excessively!” He shouted with a grin, pulling his door closed. She smiled, closed the front door, locked it, before heading for the living room sipping her favorite kind of coffee from her favorite guy.

She heard the garage door open around five and the door creak from the mudroom attached to the garage to the house.

“Do you like chicken noodle soup?” She asked. “I know that sounds silly, because it’s a classic. But because it’s a classic, there was a time when I was in high school, and I swear I was sick for a month and all I ate was chicken noodle soup. I haven’t had any since, I think. But on a whim, I had some last week, and it was literally the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten,” she explained while Harry took his shoes off. She grabbed the bread she was toasting out of the oven, and she smiled as he slowly made his way to the kitchen.

He looked around the room for a moment. “Did y’clean?” He asked ignoring her rant about soup, he ran his finger along the thin side table that was directly next to the counter. It looked dusted, and the little trinkets were placed back on the table just so.

She smiled sheepishly and nodded. “I know you hate when I do stuff like this, but I was really bored. I shouldn’t be allowed to have a day off. Idle minds, you know? I also figured you must not have time to clean often with your schedule. This place isn’t even that dirty, and I think I’m the one that tracks in all the snow and dirt from the pond,” she explained.

He stared at her as she spoke, dropped his small duffle bag beside him.

She blinked at his weird stance as she stirred the soup in the big pot she was using. “Are you mad?”

His gaze was unmoving from her face. He tilted his head toward the laundry room, the sound of the dryer humming from the hallway. “And laundry?” He asked.

Now she felt like she was in trouble. “Well... you had a mountain of it in your room and I was finished cleaning. Which meant I was about to go insane due to boredom again,” she shrugged. “You’re mad,” she frowned. “I was just trying to do something nice.”

“Dishes?” He jutted his chin toward the empty sink.

“That’s on you for leaving them. You know I love dishes.”

“Grocery shopping?” He hummed.

“I figured if I’m going to live here, I may as well chip in since you won’t let me pay for—”

“What’s this?” He asked looking at the picture frames face down on the kitchen table. He picked one up and inspected it. She had selected several photos. Some of the team, some from her series of photo. There was even one of Marc and Michael. But naturally, the one he picked up was one of the photos from the gallery night.

Harry’s arm wrapped around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. While she looked at the woman holding his phone camera, Harry was gazing down at her. His smile was full of adoration. She picked it to be framed because even though the camera didn’t get a look at his pretty green eyes for one photo (which was truly a loss), she felt like the most beautiful thing in the world with the way he looked at her.

“Oh, I thought they were cute pictures, and we could put them—” Harry put the frame down, turned toward the stove and flicked the burner off. “Harry...? What are you—”

He then faced her; he slid his hands along both of her cheeks. Gently, he tilted her neck, so her eyes met his. “My pretty, pretty Bunny,” he murmured brushing the tip of his nose against hers. Her breath caught in her throat. Whatever smart remark she was going to make about him being bossy or extra was stuck on her tongue. His gaze dropped to her lips and then she was overwhelmed by the color green again. Her face felt hot with a blush that she couldn't stop and she was only seconds ahead of what his intention was. “Y’can tell me t’stop, Rookie, love. I don’t want t’rush it.”

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered.

“Oh Bunny, y’never have t’beg for me, ever,” his voice was deep, gravelly. Filled with desire and wanting.

And he wanted her.

Harry had waited a very long time to kiss her. But these last few seconds leading to their first kiss felt like a literal eternity, but finally his lips met hers.

She moaned softly, a quiet almost-whimper, nearly the exact moment his mouth touched hers. He was so gentle; it felt like his lips were hardly moving and the drag of his mouth was so sinful she could feel it burning. It burned her lips and every other inch of her skin. Her mind was so entranced with the feel of Harry’s lips between hers, the way his tongue slipped gently along the seam of her mouth, carefully coaxing her open so he could get a better taste of her.

Harry knew she would taste delicious. He didn’t know it was going to be so instantly addictive. But he shouldn’t have been surprised.

She was a little unsure how it happened—too distracted by the feeling of the prettiest man in hockey kissing her, but she was lifted to the counter, her legs around his waist. His hips flush against the edge of the counter. With one hand, he cupped the back of her head, his fingers winding in her hair. The other was at the small of her back, pulling her toward him.

“God Bunny,” he groaned and peppered kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “I’ve wanted this for s'long.” She shivered feeling overwhelmed with his desire. Harry had a way of making her feel special and she should have known kissing him wasn’t going to be the exception. She was nearly out of breath and didn’t know how Harry could keep kissing her. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered into her throat.

“Harry,” she whispered.

He moaned. “Oh, Rookie, y’say m’name like that m’gonna be done for. What d’you want, Bunny? Y’can have whatever y’want... anything. S’yours.”

She laughed silently, her shoulders shaking as his mouth worked across her collarbone to the other side of her throat. He was so tender and intentional in his kisses of where Kael hurt her, and he took all that pain away. “Nothing, I just... like—”

He groaned again and brought her lips back to his, kissing her so passionately it ached. “I like you so much, Bunny,” he whispered, his mouth dragging along her skin. “I don’t want you t’go. Please don’t close yourself off from me. I’ll do anything.”

She felt bad that he felt like he had to beg for her attention. He had it, and he always had it. If she was honest, since the very first time she met him. “I won’t, I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed and pulled her toward him. He wrapped his arms beneath her, supporting her weight and carried her to his room.

“Harry, baby, you gotta slow down,” she giggled.

He moaned or growled. Perhaps a little of both. He tucked his face into her neck again. “Y’call me baby, m’not gonna live.”

She laughed. “Oh, you have to.”

Carefully he laid her back on his mattress. Yeah, he slept beside her the night before. He had snuggled with her in her own bed several times as well. This was different. This was all her walls finally down. Her vulnerability and trust were on full display. Harry was the luckiest man in the world to witness it. To be trusted to take care of her. He didn’t know how anyone could betray such a sweet, perfect person.

“M’gonna kiss every inch of you,” he promised.

“You’ve been awfully patient, Harry. Don’t you want to jump to the good stuff?” Her cheeks warmed once more as she asked.

He shook his head. “No, not even a little. I want every single second of you. Every single kiss. I’d wait forever for you, Bunny.”

She didn’t deserve him, but she would happily keep him. “You’re too good,” she whispered cupping his face and stroking her thumbs along his cheeks. He rested his forehead against hers as he hovered beside her.

“M’not Rookie. You’re too good. Exceptionally intelligent, creative, and deliriously beautiful. My schedule is all kinds of fucked,” he reminded her. “I never had a girlfriend because I can only give you five months.

She smiled. “I’m literally with the team all the time, Harry.”

“But when y’open your studio, y’won’t be.”

“I’m not opening a studio,” she laughed shaking her head, her nose bumping his.

He rolled his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, and very much wanted to make her come all over him. But this was important to him because she was the most important thing to him. “Of course you are, Rookie. Y’have too much talent t’be wasting it on a group of rowdy hockey players.”

There was a wave of pride that bloomed over her. His unwavering support and constant belief in her. She grinned. “Harry Styles," she sighed. "You’re incredible. Number one twice for sure.”

He chuckled softly, ducking his gaze slightly at her compliment. It meant more than any other time he heard it because this was her saying it. “Thanks, Bunny,” he smiled and kissed her again lingering and holding her face in his hands like he never wanted to let go. “You’re pucking perfect.”

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

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sapphiresandferrari · 9 months ago

Text

His sweet girl

Summary: Aemond catches feelings for one of the girls at the brothel and his brother, Aegon, almost ruined everything

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x ocf!reader

Warnings: emotionally constipated Aemond, cunt Aegon, implied smut, lactation kink if you squint, fluff

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm Rosie and this is my first fic ever

Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, feel free to give me advices or suggestion, just be polite

English is NOT my first language, so apologies if there are any mistakes

Gif credits: @aegonx

Enjoy 🫶🏻

Aemond doesn’t know exactly when se became so important to him.

One night he went to the brothel for his usual service, the last weeks has been hectic, everything was overwhelming, his father’s death, Aegon’s coronation and Luke’s death, so he had to find a way to release the stress that it wasn’t training with ser Criston Cole.

So, when he arrived at the pleasure house, he thought that Madame Sylvi was waiting for him like she usually did for the last weeks, instead, one of the servants informed him that Madame was unavailable for that night, but that she had chosen another girl that would satisfy him as much as she did.

Hearing those words, made him want to turn around and leave, not comfortable with the idea of opening himself with a different woman than the one he was used to, yet something inside of him didn’t want to leave, he thought that if Madame Sylvi has personally chosen this girl, then maybe he should’ve give it a shot and try, see how it was.

After all, she knew him and his needs, especially with all the times they laid together, so he decided to trust her judgement, and let the servant guiding him to the secluded area prepared for him.

Once he moved the curtain, he found a girl, no more than few years older than him, laying on the bed, surrounded by pillows and candles: she was wearing a sheer robe, her hair down, thick and long dark locks were covering her, in her eyes an expression he was having a hard time to decipher, a mix of excitement and fear.

She was staring at him, taking her time to admire the beautiful and stoic man in front of her, he was exactly as the girls at the brothel and the small folk described him: his long silver hair, his purple eye, his fierce aura, he was a mesmerising sight.

As he approached her, he thought that he never saw her before at the brothel, he was trying to remember her small face but he simply couldn’t so he figured that she might be a new addiction there, yet if Sylvi chose her specifically, this means she wasn’t someone new.

He started to undress slowly, taking his time to look at the girl in front of him, her appearance was pleasant, she wasn’t exactly what he was searching, but she still had something magnetic in herself, she had a soft body, with plump breasts and wide hips, her body was different from the one of Madame, yet she still had something comforting that made him at ease right away.

She stood up, taking few steps and stopping in front of him, slightly bowing her head “good evening, my prince, Madame Sylvi apologise that she can’t serve you tonight, but she thought I might be a good enough substitute for you tonight”.

She extended a hand for him, which he took after few moments of silent, noticing how small it was compared to his, slowly walking him to the bed in the middle of the room.

“I’ve never saw you before, when did you start working here?”, he asked, curious to see if his assumption was correct

“Oh, I don’t exactly work here, my prince. My father sold me to Madame when I was a child and she thought I was too young to work here, so she kinda raised me like a daughter, usually I stay upstairs or I serve refreshments, I only work when she specifically asks me to”

So, she wasn’t a whore, not entirely at least, and this awakened something inside of him, he started wondering how many men she slept with, how many she pleased, if she was indeed able to please him as she said.

“Did you sleep with many men before? Are you sure you can serve me properly, child?”

“Not many men, but I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied my prince, and if you don’t trust my words, trust Madame’s judgement”

And so he did, and while he was thrusting inside her soft and warm flesh, he thought how different she was than Sylvi, how tight and wet she was, how her whimpers and moans were shy, how full she was making him feel.

He stayed there after he came, his head placed on her soft breasts, her hands caressing his hair and forehead, their breaths steady, her heartbeat calming, he felt well, satisfied with her service, his thoughts and troubles away for the time she was embracing him.

He told her about his worries, about his dreams, and what shocked him the most, was that she wasn’t afraid to tell him what she was thinking: she spoke calmly, without fear, but still in a respectful manner, not wanting to disrespect him nor his family, it was a rare thing, usually people lie to him or tells him half truth in order to not upset him, Sylvi included.

When he came back evenings after, he hoped to find her again, and he was slightly disappointed to see that Sylvi was waiting for him and not her once again.

Madame realised it too, she could feel a shift in his behaviour, at first thinking it was because of everything it was happening with the war and his family, but when he asked her where she was, her doubts became certainty.

“You don’t want my services anymore, my prince?”, she asked as they laid together after their highs, his head on her lap, curled up like a babe.

“Is not that, I like you and you help me a lot, but it was different with her, she understands me, she is not afraid to tell me the truth and actually gives me advises, she listens carefully and tells me what she thinks, it is a rare thing nowadays, everyone too scared to offend me and have me lose my patience

That’s why I want her to serve me from now on, you were good to me, but I think I found a better match”.

Sylvi wasn’t too pleased about this decision, she enjoyed the evenings with the prince, he treated her with respect, making her feel desired and appreciated, but he was still a prince, and if he didn’t want her services anymore, she had to accept it and move on, at the end of the day, he was still a paying costumer like everybody else, and her last goal was to please him, whether it happened personally or not.

Aemond kept going to the brothel almost every night, gently fucking her and then laying on the bed, his head on her chest, talking about his days, about his dysfunctional family, his plans for the war, and she stayed there, listening to him and caressing his head, and when he wasn’t talking, he was listening to her, talking about the books she was reading or about something she did that day, his lips sucking on one of her nipples lazily, eyes closed, eyepatch discharged somewhere on the bed, hand kneading the soft flesh of her hips.

He loved those moments, he felt at peace, somehow invincible, wondering if he will ever feel like this with another woman, but deep down knowing that no noble woman would be so understanding of him, especially not his betrothed.

It was during one of these nights that his brother, Aegon, had found him, ruining the only good thing he had in his life, Vhagar excluded.

They were there, entangled after their highs, the comfort of her arms making him feel so well, when his drunk brother opened the curtain, revealing himself to him and his mates, not wasting a second to humiliate him.

Aemond immediately got up, sitting there, looking somewhere on the floor, trying to steady his breath, listening to his brother rambling about him “fucking her like a hound”, watching her trying to cover herself for the embarrassment, shielding her body from his brother’s eyes.

He decided to leave, being too angry and humiliated, his brother rambling about searching for Madame to “make a man out of one of the white cloaks” but he found a better amusement after he saw his brother there

“You can have her, brother, one whore is as good as another” he said before taking his leave, the look of disappointment and heartbreaking in her face.

He couldn’t sleep that night, he kept seeing her disappointed face over and over again.

He knew he hurt her, that she had no fault for what happened, his brother was a drunken cunt, and she had to suffer the consequences for his stupid actions.

For days he contemplated about going there and apologise, explaining that he was not expecting for his brother be there, that he hasn’t gone to the brothel in years and he thought it was a safe space for him, away from his brother’s mess, yet he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t go there, relieving the memory of that night again.

In the end he decided to go, he was longing her touch, her softness, her sweetness, ha had to admit to himself (with an enormous amount of strength) that he needed her, so he went there one morning, when he knew anyone would’ve gone there and disturb them.

As he walked the street of silk, he kept thinking about what he wanted to tell her, trying to find the words to explain to her that he was sorry, that he understood if she didn’t want to be with him ever, but that he was still hoping for her forgiveness, since she knew how complicated his relationship with his brother was.

He knocked on the door, Sylvi opening it as he thought, looking at him hostilely

“What are you doing here, my prince”

“You know what I’m doing here, I want to speak with her”

“You hurt her, deeply, I don’t know if she wants to see you”

“Just…just ask her, please? I will leave if she does not want to speak with me”

Madame Sylvi looked at him one last time, before moving towards the rooms upstairs, allowing him to enter the brothel.

She came back a while back, telling him that he can go talk to her, but also to be quick, she didn’t want to give him too much time, she was very hurt by his actions.

He went upstairs, anxious and excited, wanting nothing more than explaining to her, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest at the thought of seeing her sweet face again.

His sweet girl, sited on the bed, a book between her hands, looking beautiful with the sun light, certainly different from the candlelight he was used to

“Good morrow, I know my visit is…unexpected, but I had to come, I had to talk to you”

“Good morrow, talk then, but make it quick, I will have to get ready for work soon, I have clients to take care of”

“Clients? I thought you weren’t fully working at the brothel, I don’t understand”

“After what happened that night, your brother’s guard told everyone how good I was, so a lot of men asked for me and Madame couldn’t refuse them, so now I work full time”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl, I really am, I didn’t want to treat you in such a way” he walked towards her, sitting slowly on the bed besides her, taking her hands on his and leaving some kisses on them “I swear I wish I said something that night, but my pride took the best of me; my brother was there, mocking me like he did when we were children, I couldn’t stay any longer.

Forgive me, sweet girl, you’re the only one I didn’t wish to hurt that night, yet you’re the one who suffered for my lack of temperament”

She stayed there, their hands still entwined, listening to his pleadings, wondering what was the best thing to do, reminding herself that he hurt her deeply, but also that he loved this man so much, that she couldn’t stay away from him any longer.

She kissed him while he was still talking, needing to feel his lips on hers once again, his hands on her once again, his cock deep inside her, feeling her to the brim with his seed, making her his and his only.

As he thrusts inside her, hips snapping, his hands kneading the soft flesh of her hips, they never felt so good in their life, so at peace, so happy.

They kissed and bit and marks each other, and in Aemond’s mind, the only thought was that she was his and he wasn’t going to let any man take her from him, the only good thing in his life.

She was his sweet girl, only his.

#aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond oneshot #sapphiresandferrari

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bunny-jpeg · 7 months ago

Text

cum stained logos

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, the 2024 red bull driving uniform, uniform kink, oral sex

bunny says: reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated! I love feedback!! i am looking (dis)respectfully mr. verstappen, been thinkin about this image.

the driving uniform was a core feature of formula one, it was a showcase of sponsors while also being a protector for the driver. there was a reason why technically the uniform was in two layers.

max was proud to wear red bull, even off the track he wore is quite frequently. you once made a comment asking if he got this stuff for free and that was why there was so much of it in his closet.

"you like it." he responded as he placed his hands on your shoulders and went in for a kiss on your cheek from behind, "i know how you look at me after a race. red bull across my chest."

you looked behind yourself to him and made a face, "i love a man in uniform so." you shrugged.

the idea buried itself in max's brain like a seed. it soon grew into a hefty idea to make you squirm.

for max it wasn't hard to get his driving suit into his bag and back to his home. everyone assumed he was just very dedicated to racing (which was a correct assumption), but max verstappen would never do anything nefarious with it. to ruin the red bull legacy and brand.

so the look on your face when you went into the bathroom and saw him zipping up the dark blue uniform was a nice surprise. he looked over at you and smiled, "like what you see?"

you swallowed, "how did you even-"

he turned around, it was still partially unzipped giving you a clear view that he was not wearing the fire proof protection underneath. he had no reason to really wear it, while sex with you was hot. it was no fire hazard.

you adverted your eyes and swallowed, "max... how?"

he chuckled and went up to you. he placed his hands on his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. when he pulled away soon after he said, "i want to show the integrity of the red bull brand.

he then laughed, "i'm joking. i wanted you to suck my cock while i wore it. after all, you liked men in uniform."

your eyes went wide for a moment, "every day you surprise me, max." then your hand was taken by your boyfriend and led back to the bedroom.

he looked over his shoulder as he led you and said, "well, you have a whole lifetime of surprises then." he got on the bed, with his back up against the headboard. he patted his thigh and you got between his legs.

"sometimes i forget how hot you are." you admitted.

he raised an eyebrow, "well, i guess i have to remind you then." then gestured for you to unzip the suit. he watched you careful eyes as you slowly unzipped it.

you felt your hand shake from anticipation as you zipped it all the way down, exposed his toned torso to you. you swallowed when you eyes trailed to his cock which was clothed by a pair of briefs. you noticed the bulge in them.

"like it?" he asked.

you looked up at him, "max, the first time i saw it on accident my jaw hit the floor. remember what i asked you?"

he scratched his jaw a little flustered, "you asked me if when i get hard if i lose all the blood in my head."

you nodded and reached for the waistband of his briefs. you pulled his cock out and without thinking licking your lips. you felt a shudder in your heart. you kissed the leaky tip and sighed contently.

this entire situation was hot. he looked good in the driver's suit. he looked good with red bull and the other branding across his body. he was a good racer and got good sponsors. he also had an impressive cock that fit nicely in your throat.

it was hefty and big, but not terrifying. it was a snug fit, but not a painful stretch. it was perfect just like the rest of him. you heard him relax further against the headboard and his large hand found the back of your head.

"ik had dit eerder moeten doen. als ik het had geweten, fuck." he shifted on the bed and let you take all of him in his mouth. as much as you threw around that max was a kinky man, you were almost toe to toe with him.

he knew you tried to act surprised, but he knew that you ate up any chance at exploring aspects of sex. and sometimes that meant him stealing his driving suit and letting you suck him off.

you held onto his thighs for support, the fabric under his fingers grounded you as you sucked him off. your eyes fluttered closed as you bobbed your head up and down.

your mouth felt like a dream. he held onto you and rocked up a little against your mouth.

"you feel so good." he panted as he felt the heat in his body. his heart was a loud thump in his ears as he stroked your hair. you looked so good laid out between his legs with his cock in your throat.

it was so painfully dirty that it lit a fire in max's stomach. he softly met your pace and pushed his cock a little further into your throat. he exhaled deeply as you just took him so well.

"do you like the uniform?" he asked, "maybe next time i'll fuck you while you're wearing it. " he chuckled a little.

you got your mouth off of him and stroked his cock quickly, "don't get cocky." you raised your eyebrows then leaned in to lick the swollen head, "not a good look on you."

he gripped your hair a little tighter and replied, "but you love it." then guided your mouth back onto his cock. he set the pace a little bit as he moved your head up and down his cock.

you got it slick all the way to his balls. his cock felt good on your tongue as you felt the heat curl in your stomach. the heat throbbed in your head.

you two continued to work together. the soft noises and the sounds of your mouth on his cock were in the air. the soft curses and heavy pants. the shifts on the bed.

max was deeply in love with you, not that it was something that you questioned. but when you were sucking the soul of out him, he felt a big swell of pride in his chest that you were his.

"shit, i'm close." he groaned, the sweat caused the suit to stick to his back. it felt good, but he was reaching his peak.

you pulled your mouth away from his cock and hastily jerked him off. you were both panting with an intense head rush. max ran his fingers through his hair once more before he tensed up and climaxed.

ropes of hot cum reached across his chest and splattered onto a few of the logos on the uniform. but he couldn't care in that moment. he did wish that he got to finish all over those cute cheeks of yours.

no time like the present for that dream as he reached down and pulled your mouth up against his still erect cock. between heavy pants he said, "keep it in your mouth next time. clean me up.'

you looked back up at him before you started to lick his cock. your core throbbed, you'd get yours soon enough. but your driver boyfriend wasn't done yet. <3

#bunny writes #reader insert #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #mv1 x reader #mv33 fic #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv33 #mv33 smut #mv1 smut #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max smut

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nick-writes-stuff · 3 months ago

Text

One-sided Reunion

In-ho/Young-il x gn!reader

Summary: You had been friends with In-ho since you were kids. In the games, there is a man who reminds you of the ghost from your past. In-ho couldn't help but ask you about him, and after the conversation goes poorly, he realizes how dire your situation is.

! warnings: discussing canon-typical violence

a/n: it's finally here! this was so fun to write, and i'm so excited to start writing more for squid game characters. there may be a part two to this one, so keep an eye out if you're interested.

In-ho expected a lot of things when he decided he would go undercover as a player in the newest set of games. He expected Player 456 to try to help the others beat the game with his past experiences. He expected to witness the plans to overthrow the gamemakers in action. He expected the usual danger and chaos and violence. He'd seen his fair share of games before.

He had never expected to see you. He must have skipped over your file during the recruitment process.

This was a pleasant surprise, of course. He always knew that leaving you behind was one of the hardest things he had to do when he left. Sure, leaving his family was another regret as well, but they had definitely become fed up with his behavior before he left for the games. And now, with what happened with Jun-ho, he grew to accept the fact that that bridge had been burned.

He didn't even know how you would have ended up in a place like this anyway. You were never the type to gamble, get caught up in illegal activity, or associate with loan sharks and the like. He figured you must have been there either to help someone or because someone dragged you down with them. He later found this out to be the case, as your father had been having money troubles and used you to try to dig himself out of the hole he made. In-ho had never liked your father.

The first time he saw you, his gaze lingered for a moment to try to make sure it was really you. Luckily, you hadn't noticed him staring, and he averted his gaze to avoid your suspicion. During the preparation process, he did catch you staring at him, however. He pretended not to notice. He didn't change too much appearance-wise since you last saw him, but the years apart were enough to cloud your memory for him to go unnoticed. His demeanor had definitely changed since you saw him as well. He was hardly the same man you knew.

You had definitely changed as well. You were still undeniably you, but there was a bit of that infectious spark gone from you. Your eyes were no like bright and expressive, likely from the struggles you face outside. He wondered how much of those struggles were caused by him. The two of you were very close growing up, and while the bond with his wife and his brother had been stronger, both of those bonds have been permanently severed. Your bond with him may also be severed by this point. He wouldn't know.

When you first started hanging around Gi-hun's group, he realized how much he has really missed you. Your humor, your wit, your compassion. You both worked amazingly together, and it felt like old times. He watched over you in the games as much as he could without suspicion.

After Mingle, Gi-hun had suggested that they start maintaining a look-out schedule to ensure the X's safety during the night. He seemed to anticipate another fight like the one that occurred during his first game. He was entirely correct in this assumption, as the Special Game was scheduled to start the next day after dinner. Dae-ho and himself were given first watch, but the ex-marine tapped out rather quickly. He left to go wake up someone else to continue.

When he heard footsteps, he turned to look but he couldn't make out anything except the red X patch on the jacket.

"Mind if I sit?" He heard your voice.

He shook his head. "No, it's fine."

You sat next to him with a soft yawn. While he and Dae-ho had been sitting in near silence, the two of you couldn't resist quietly chatting. About the games, about the voting situation, about the other players. Once you exhausted those topics, the conversation moved to things more personal.

"You know, you remind me of someone I knew outside of here." You said softly, looking over to the man beside you. You could hardly read the expression on his face in the dark, but you think he raised an eyebrow.

He was conflicted. On one hand he wanted to know how you felt about him—the real him—after he had left, but he didn't know how he would feel about your answer. What if you hated him? He knew how his mother and brother likely felt, and with his wife passing, you were really his only other connection to his life before the games.

Ultimately, he gave into the gnawing curiosity and decided to play along. "Oh really?".

You nodded. "Yeah, you look a lot like him." You started, pausing for a moment as you thought. "Or at least what I remember him looking like."

He acted puzzled by your phrasing, but he knew where this was going. "What do you mean by that?" He asked.

Your expression darkened, looking away from the man inside you. "I haven't seen him in a long time. It's been almost 4 years since he..." You trailed off, not knowing how to put the situation into words.

Young-Il frowned slightly. "Oh... I'm sorry. How did he pass?" He asked.

You shook your head. "No, he isn't dead. At least I don't think he is." You said before sighing. Your gaze lowered to your lap as you began fidgeting with your fingers

"He was a friend of mine since we were kids. I lived a few minutes away from where he and his brother lived. I remember he would always walk me home to my house and then turn around and go to his house. His mom was always annoyed with him because of it but he never stopped." You recalled, chuckling softly.

He forced his expression to remain the same even though he wanted to smile as he, too, recalled this pleasant memory. "He sounds like he is a great man." He said.

"Oh, he's the best." You said with a smile. "He had always been the kind of person that would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He even donated his kidney to his younger brother when he had gotten sick."

He had two internal reactions to your description of him. Part of him was beaming with pride as you described him, glad you still thought of him highly after so many years. But there was also a pit forming in the bottom of his stomach as he wondered how you would react if you knew what he had actually been doing in the past few years.

He pressed further, indulging his curiosity about what you thought of him after everything that had happened. "What happened to him?" He asked, pausing before continuing, "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

You shook your head, murmuring a soft. "No, it's fine." before beginning: "Life gave him a bad deal. His wife had gotten sick, and they were struggling to pay for her treatments. He got fired from him job as a police officer. His brother told me he accepted a bribe, but I can't imagine him doing that."

He nodded slightly, making sure his expressions didn't raise any suspicion.

"His wife passed away in the hospital shortly after, and he kind of just disappeared. Packed some stuff and wasn't heard from again." You finished your thought. You took a deep breath to try to keep your composure.

He frowned. "That's awful." He said, shaking his head. Part of him felt awful for prompting you to talk about this when it clearly upset you, but another part selfishly wanted to know what you and his family thought of him now. He felt like a ghost haunting his own funeral, getting to find out what others thought of him when he shouldn't have been able to hear it. "Did anyone ever figure out what happened to him?"

You shook your head. "No. His brother tried to push for an investigation, but the leads ran dry. I know his family is still hoping that he's out there somewhere, but at least his brother is starting to lose that hope." You said.

"What do you think happened?"

The second he asked it, he wished he could take it back. You looked over at him in shock at his eagerness to know.

He felt his heart in his throat as he bowed his head slightly began to speak. "That was out of line, I apologize. I was wondering-"

"No it's fine I just..." You cut him off before pausing. "I just haven't tried to give it too much thought. Sounds too macabre."

Young-il nodded, understanding your hesitation. "That makes sense. I couldn't imagine that being an easy task."

In-ho, however, was somewhat dissatisfied with your answer. He struggled to believe that you hadn't given his disappearance thought until now.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. The pause was much more awkward than he would have preferred. He thought about excusing himself to get out of the conversation, but you began to speak before he could suggest the idea.

"Honestly, it doesn't really matter what happened to him." You said softly.

His expression quickly turned into an almost confused disgust. What do you mean you don't care what happened to him? He was clearly taken aback by your comment.

You also gave him a puzzled look. He quickly remembered that he shouldn't have reacted so strongly to your statement. It definitely seemed strange for someone you had just met to react that way to a situation that didn't involve him.

Luckily, instead of questioning him, you rephrased your statement. "I mean that in the sense that no matter what happened, I just hope he's happy. I don't need an answer about his whereabouts specifically, but I just want to know if he's okay." You said, taking a deep breath to try to maintain your composure.

"How are you content with sitting by and not searching for him? If I were in your shoes, I would find him over anything." Young-il asked, trying to sound as empathetic as possible. Hopefully, you take his statement as him asking for advice rather than an attack on your character.

Your head snapped up to look at him. Your eyes narrowed as your gaze turned to a glare. You definitely didn't take that as a request for advice.

"Excuse me?" You asked, your voice louder than before but not loud enough to cause a commotion during lights out.

He tried to salvage the situation. "That came out the wrong way. What I meant was-"

"I really don't care what you meant. I just don't appreciate you accusing me of not caring about my best friend."

"That was not my intention. I was just..." He trailed off. Wait. Your best friend? You still considered him your best friend even after all these years.

He didn't have a lot of time to ponder your statement as you continued.

"I love him, okay? I've known him since I was seven years old. I would do anything to find him. You have no idea how desperately I searched for him, even longer than the police and his brother."

He couldn't do anything but sit there and take it all in. The whole situation was somewhat poetic. He was both the object of your fury and your admiration. You spat words at him about how much you cared about him.

You paused for a moment to sniffle softly and wipe the tears running down your cheeks. You took a deep breath before continuing. Your voice was quieter and your words were chosen more deliberately, but he could tell you were just as angry as before.

"My acceptance of his disappearance is not because I don't care about him. If he is out there living somewhere else without me in his life, that's fine as long as he's happy. I've only accepted the fact that maybe I wasn't enough for him, okay? Good enough of an answer for you?"

Despite all of the thoughts running through his head, he couldn't manage to say anything in response to you. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. After a moment of waiting, you scoffed and stood up. You headed back toward your bed, intending to wake up Gi-Hun for him to continue watch with Young-il.

In-ho knew he shouldn't have pried any further. How did he think you would be okay with him asking such questions? To you, he was a stranger, so he shouldn't have been so invested in your answers, but he couldn't resist. He really didn't have anything to lose at this point. This time tomorrow, he would be back in his position of the Front Man, and you could very well die in the games.

That realization hit him like a sack of bricks.

You could die in the games.

And he would have to watch it happen.

He felt a pit forming in the bottom of his stomach, finally beginning to comprehend the severity of the situation you both were in. He wasn't sure why it hadn't hit him earlier. Maybe while he was still a player, he thought he would be able to better protect you. But whenever he steps back into his role, he was going to be powerless to save you.

Ironic, considering he was one of, if not the most, influential man in the games.

Wait. He wasn't powerless at all. Quite the opposite, actually. It wouldn't be easy, but he could pull some strings to help increase the odds of your survival. He could do it tactfully in hopes that the staff wouldn't pick up on his intentions. But even if they did, it was highly unlikely any of them would have the gumption to confront him about it.

Even so, it seems like the players may choose to terminate the games after the tied vote anyway. If he played his cards right, he could orchestrate a way for you to come across him in the outside world.

But there was a glaring problem with this plan. If he ever met you in person again, you would likely realize that he was Young-il even if he introduced himself as In-ho. During the games, your constant adrenaline and overall fatigue would cloud your perception for now, but in the outside world, you likely would be able to see through the man's dual identities. Assuming you made it through the games. He had faith that you are capable of doing so, but this group of players is highly chaotic.

If you ever did find out about his position in the games, would you ever be able to forgive him for causing you and countless others so much pain and suffering? Thousands of players have died in the games, and some would argue that, therefore, they died by his hands. Even more than that, their families have to deal with the sudden disappearance of their loved ones. People outside the games would never understand that the positives outweigh the suffering tenfold.

There was one glimmer of hope left for him to ponder. You did say that you would do anything to have him back in your life.

Maybe anything could include setting aside your morals and accepting that the games do have merit to them. All he's doing is trying to better the world. No matter how unpleasant the means.

He made up his mind. He'd do whatever he could to get you out of there. He wouldn't make you win, of course. That would be too far and a clear violation of the rules. It was also wholly unnecessary for his reasoning.

However, getting you out unharmed is doable. That's something they've all done before after Il-nam wanted to become a player. And it was even happening with himself to a lesser extent. There's nothing that could stop him from pulling you out one way or another.

There were a lot of problems that may occur. Would you realize he was himself and not just Young-il? Would you even give him the time of day once learning his role in all of this? Could you even forgive him for leaving in the first place?

No matter. You were really his last shot at having any aspect of his past life back. He has no job to return to. His wife is gone. And he ruined any chance of reuniting with his brother when he put the bullet in his chest. You were it for him.

#squid game fanfic #squid game x reader #squid game x you #front man x reader #in ho x reader #young il x reader #no beta we die like men #nick writes stuff

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occamstfs · 5 months ago

Text

Follow Your Nose

Robin's not happy about visiting his student's frat house but with each heady breath he finds new pleasures to be gained from the experience.

Another Musk based Frat TF! Not breaking new ground but I like how this one turned out haha! Also in the wake of my contest I'm restarting the queue on my other blog so if you want to see what I read/have any burning questions send them over there! Hope you enjoy this little scent-centric romp! -Occam

Robin hated being on this side of campus; he doesn't know why on Earth he agreed to do a homecall for office hours. Totally unprofessional of course, but the grad student was simply so tired of sitting in his cold office for nary a soul to show up. When Carlos reached out asking for some one on one assistance the T.A. agreed to venture to what he was told was a common study area. What Carlos hid from Robin was that it just so happened to be his frat’s living room.

The researcher almost turned around and rain checked as soon as he saw. But after Carlos texted to thank him for his help, whatever scholarly version of the Hippocratic oath he took compels him to continue onward despite himself. It of course doesn’t hurt that the slightly younger man seems to have been made in a lab to attract Robin. Though the professional has done his absolute best to remain professional and push down the repressed desire. Though as he steps in this is made far more difficult.

Carlos welcomes him into the frat house clad in a far too tight, clearly stained, tee and what seem to be, impossibly gaudy, similarly tight, athletic shorts. Immediately Robin’s face sears with blush and the smirk that is almost always at home on Carlos’ face grows wider. Before the fratty fiend can get a word in the grad student speaks up, fighting through an embarrassing voice crack, “uHm- Mr. Esperanza if you wouldn’t mind, could you change into something more appropriate for our session?” Carlos tilts his head, deliberately exposes his midriff as he scratches it. After a moment he laughs and answers remembering why he’s dressed like this, “Oh sure sure no problema bro.”

Robin’s eye twitches as his student opts for bro rather than his title, name, or anything vaguely respectful. The T.A. hears the man’s hands scratching thick hair out of sight before he sniffs his hand and rubs his jaw, continuing, “It’s just uhhh, my laundry’s still in the machine so this is all I could throw on before you got in huhuh.” Robin holds his tongue from deriding the man’s shoddy planning, I mean for god’s sake they had an appointment!

So intent on hiding his attraction to, and irritation at, his student, Robin doesn’t quite catch the glint in his eye as Carlos offers an idea, “if you wouldn’t mind, uhhh, professor? You could go grab me some pants or somethin’” Not wanting to correct Carlos’ switch up to a title far loftier than his own and before he can even humor the idea that he’d wander deeper into the frat house, the bro thanks him as if he’s already agreed. “Thanks much lil bro- I’ll get us all set up here. It’ll be the third door on your right but you can probably just follow your nose hahah!”

Robin squints his eyes at the brazen assumption that he’d do anything of the sort. And yet, preferring anything to confrontation, he acquiesces with a sigh. The faster they start the faster Robin’s out of here. But a step down the hallway his nose wrinkles as he realizes that Carlos was not being cute, he can genuinely smell the laundry room far down the hall. Taking a deep breath and centering himself before the air is full of more musky sweat than oxygen, he shifts his jaw in irritation at the situation he stumbled himself into and presses onward.

Robin pushes open the unreasonably heavy door of the laundry room and enters. He hears the door slam but keeps his eyes forward as he endeavors to spend as little time in here as possible. Pushing down rational questioning of why he is doing this, in his haste he makes the mistake of opening the washing machine rather than a dryer that would presumably hold Carlos’ clothes. Before he even realizes his mistake he is almost blasted back by the potent musk spilling out of the drum. Choking out a ‘why wasn’t this run…” as his eyes glaze over and he is overwhelmed by the scent.

It’s as if there are more particles of sweat in the air than, uh, air. His mouth falls open to avoid smelling but that only heightens the experience and leads to him taking deeper breaths. Despite everything in him screaming to leave now, Robin feels himself drawn towards the machine that simply must have been intentionally compiled to smell as musky as possible. As the seconds pass Robin feels his body begin to move of its own accord, like an out of body experience he sees himself inch closer to the machine. There’s a struggled swallow as he is suddenly conscious that he is drooling at the scent of the frat’s dirty laundry.

When his hand reaches into the filthy load of laundry he feels his autonomy return and he quickly draws back. Clothes almost crunchy with sweat, and other substances, he stands stunned as he tries to understand what he just did, why he did that. Only then does he notice that he is so hard that anyone who glanced in his direction would notice. It almost hurts as his cock strains against his underwear and pulses with deep need.

Priority rapidly shifting to hiding his massive erection should Carlos stumble in Robin opts to adjust his pants. Rather than doing it surreptitiously as he would usually do, he shoves his hand directly in his underwear in a manner distinctly boorish. Notably he also plods around his underpants with his dominant hand, the same one that only just left the frat’s collection of their dirtiest tops, bottoms, and drawers.

Stained hand now touching his cock he is overwhelmed with the desire to never remove it from this spot again. Drool still pooling in his mouth, Robin almost forgets his surroundings as cock seems more impressive than it’s ever been before now. Or no, his hand seems larger, rougher, more powerful. He squints as the seconds pass and the sensations continue to shift before he looks down to find that his bulge is indeed larger than he has ever seen it. Biting his lip he glances at the door and, demonstrating his clearly fading rationality, decides ‘fuck it’ and pulls out his cock.

Haloed with pubes that are growing thicker, spreading further, with each quivering breath and graced touch from his stained hand. Pre drips from the head of his thicker cock as it stands high, beginning to rival the length of his forearm as it inches longer with each heartbeat, each uncontrollable pulse. He cups his balls to remove them from his underwear and is again struck dumb. God they’re itchy.

He scratches at them as his nails almost draw back into his hand, to the eye of an observer they shift from manicured to the deliberately uncared for, dirty nails of a frat bro. Thus he must dig even deeper to satisfy his itching balls as long, thick curls begin to spread across them. Each drag across finds them larger than they were less than a second before. Each mindless scratch they hang lower, stretch his sack larger as his balls begin to rival the size of eggs and churn to fill him with hormones that will make it all the harder for him to think his way out of this, or any, room.

Despite his mind awash, feeling his hand begin to mindlessly move to start masturbating in this frat’s laundry room he regains his senses. Fear suddenly overwhelms his lusts and need for pleasure as he tries to inspect his body. Looking down at his hands he finds they both have changed and the horrors have not stopped there. Thick dark hair and a haphazard tan have spread up his forearms and as he feels heat begin to burn on his bicep it’s clear this is a situation still ongoing. Robin struggles to stand and falls over on his face, squarely landing in some brute’s discarded briefs. Fighting back a smirk as he is inoculated with a direct dose of his frat brother’s musk, Robin rolls over in fear of the changes that must be about to begin on his face.

His nose adjusts as memories of breaking it twice assert themselves into his mind. Rob feels his biceps bulge against his forearms as he raises his hands to his face. Grunting and ignoring how much deeper his voice is as it echoes in the room, he talks to himself to begin his flight, “Mrgh, I gotta, get out of here.” Trying to pull his pants up, before they can even struggle to cover his monumental bulge and increasingly cushioned ass, his jeans are caught on his thighs. Muscle and fat press larger as they become two massive meaty trunks. Dropping the pants to inspect his suddenly impressive legs he flexes them and goes weak at the knees as desire tries to take over once more.

Rob only just fights these rising instincts and makes for the door. Then does he find the most clearly sinister aspect of this situation yet, it’s locked. His uhh, boy? His bro. Yeah his bro trapped him in here. Fuckin’ Carlos did this to him on purpose he bets. Leaning against the door he finds his breathing suddenly inhibited by the tight shirt that he’s been wearing. Seeing his waist has apparently filled out, his stomach quivers with butterflies. He’s always been envious of his bro’s forms but man he looks just as killer huhuh. His widening upper body sends tears through the shirt without his hands even needing to tear the top off.

Dressed in nothing but torn shreds on the floor of the, er his, frat’s laundry room Rob’s clouded mind observes the final touches of his new form. Weighty pecs pulse larger and hang over his new thick torso. Hamhock thighs frame a bulge that would make any mouth water. He scratches stubble growing thicker on his face while he begins to thoughtlessly masturbate against the laundry room door. Stretching his neck as it thickens to hold up a head growing thicker and mind growing duller, his mouth falls open and he appreciates the musk of his bros as if it's the most pleasant thing in the world to him. Were this the rest of his life the horny bro wouldn’t mind. Rubbing his torso as thick curls begin to decorate him like a beast. Treasure trail stretching from pubes thicker than foliage. He raises his free arm to bathe in his own musk.

His mouth waters as he realizes he doesn’t need to use these other’s fucker clothes to get off! He’s got the sweet stuff right here. Any shreds remaining of the prudish, frat-phobic teacher’s assistant vacate as he delights in his own pit. Thickening curls spread outward from deep in his pits as a truly voluminous mass begins to press out from under his arms. His tongue stretches out from his mouth into the jungle as it grows thicker, perpetually soaked in his new musk. And then Rob loses control. Decorating the walls and himself and finally adding his own mess to their little ode to locker rooms everywhere.

Tongue out enjoying himself in what is apparently his new home, sweat begins to pool under the man’s discovery of new delights. It seems like forever for him but in reality, a few minutes later he feels the door push into him, “Yooo bro what’s takin’ you so long?” Carlos opens the door and pinches his nose to avoid the stink of the room and the overpowering scent of Rob’s first time.

Rob’s dumb smirk and glazed eyes meet Carlos’ mischievous grin and the new brother speaks in his new bass, “Uhhh, didn’t you lock me in here bro?” His brother stifles laughter and ruffles Rob’s sweaty new haircut, “You dumbass huhuh- It’s a pull door.” It takes a few seconds for Carlos’ words to sink in but after realizing that he simply forgot how doors work he joins in laughing loud enough to shake the foundations of their frat house. “Brooo huhuh!”

“Now throw something on so we can figure this shit out!” Rob goes to grab clothes from some stray hamper filled with someone’s dirty laundry and heads out. Walking out of his musky captivity, Rob finds a new warmth fill him as he wanders into the house, into his house. The frat didn’t quite need a new member but Carlos is more than happy to make the most out of his new brother. Not all of them are so unabashedly into their own musk but judging by Rob’s changes and the already returning erection in his shorts, Carlos can’t wait to see what the two of them will get up to in their new lives together.

#male tf #mental change #male transformation #muscle tf #dumber #hair growth #musk tf #jockification #frat bro tf #fratification

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whoopsyeahokay · 1 year ago

Text

October Sun

summary: your mother had warned you. Don't let them know, she'd said, her nails digging angry crescents into the flesh of your upper arms, eyes wild and imploring, don't let them know you can see. you'd listened, all these years, you'd lived your life by that rule. until you couldn't.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.1

Like most things, it started with a look.

A boy. A girl. A crowded place; a friend talking—their voice muted as if heard through a motel wall. Time slows. People filter in and out of the space between, chatting, laughing, in frame just long enough to emphasize the weight behind something that, in any other context, would be utterly unimportant.

Simon had urged you outside at lunch, pulled you away from your table, tone frayed in desperation as he interrogated you about things you're certain you'd made seem the expression of a morbidly quirky imagination.

"Well," He said, like jabbing the eraser-end of a pencil into your sternum, "Can you?"

You hesitated, gaze lifting away from his to skirt the middle-distance behind him.

And then—

It happened molasses-slow. Your eyes caught his; lingered a beat too long to be played off as anything other than what it was. Acknowledgment.

Those sweet-sultry cow eyes widened a fraction.

Oh no.

Then time rushed back in and snapped into the correct rhythm. You didn't have a chance to process what had just happened because Simon sighed with the weight of the world, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling. Quickly, you arranged your expression into something slightly put-off.

"Si, what are you talking about?"

Simon groaned and took a few steps back then forward again. He reminded you of a caged animal being forced to perform. Lately, his mannerisms had been erratic, a little unhinged. You'd caught him talking to himself a couple of times, in classrooms or the cafeteria. The last couple of days he'd been glued to his phone, taking spontaneous calls that he'd never received before. Initially, you'd assumed he was in touch with Maddie; the only one she'd trusted enough to keep in the loop. However, the more you'd observed, the more you'd doubted the assumption.

You'd watched him unravel from a distance, of course. Nicole had turned inward, Simon was bursting at the seams, and you, as the casual friend with a life separate to theirs, stayed away out of a sense of insecurity.

You and Maddie hadn't been as close as she and Simon and Nicole. You shared interests in the macabre and spooky, but that's where it ended. Event Buddies who became familiar through exposure, lacking that profound connection that would give you a reason to call about something other than the next horror film release date.

You didn't feel right about asking to share their grief. It felt intrusive.

Simon paced the length of the bus shelter once more before stopping in front of you. He was clearly nervous, frustrated, avoiding your gaze for a second while he collected his thoughts.

Finally, he took a deep breath, glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and said, low and secret, "You talked about the ghosts here—" You folded your arms and tilted your head in what you hoped came across as confused. "—Last year," Simon grabbed your arm and pulled you in closer when a group of younger girls walked by, "Last year, you told us about the crush you had on your mom's dead boyfriend, remember? The guy who died during the '83 homecoming game?"

"They never dated." You corrected, fighting the urge to chew your lip. A giveaway that you were about to choose your words very carefully. "But, look, Simon, I talked about that stuff because I thought it was fun. Not because I can commune with the dead." Which wasn't entirely a lie. You couldn't commune with the dead. More because of rules than ability, but the fact remained.

"But your mom—"

"Is a fraud and you know it." Also not entirely a lie. Then you frowned, genuinely intrigued, "What's going on?"

Simon shot you a dazed look, "Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly into this Sixth Sense shit? You've never believed in it before. Something you've made very clear." Every time you joked about reaching out to the Other Side, Simon would scoff and roast you endlessly. You found endearing. Like a prickly inside joke. It was your thing.

Suddenly, Simon got that look on his face, the one he got in class when your teachers outlined homework. As if he were listening to someone. Except there was no one else close enough to hear.

The silence stretched into a thin static between you until, at last, Simon said, "Never mind." He sounded equal parts defeated and aggravated.

Taking a cautious step forward, you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Maddie, Si, I—" Have no idea how to put into words how fucked up it all is, "—I wish there was something, anything, I could do to help."

Simon pressed his lips together and nodded. From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching the bus shelter. Tall, broad, donning the unmistakable colors of the Split River Bandits, née Devils. You had to get out of there before you irrevocably fucked up and found yourself at the center of what your mother warned you would be a swarm.

"Look," You dropped your hand to Simon's, squeezing supportively. You might not have been able to tell the whole truth but you could try to offer some comfort. Whether or not he believed you was up to him. "Maddie's okay, Simon. Wherever she is. Whatever happened to her..." You paused, considering your next words, "She can't be so far gone that we won't get her back."

You said it with all the conviction you had in you, believed it to your core.

You'd seen the beatnik with her lollipops, the shy boy with the glasses. You'd seen the young man in the outdated suit; the modest Grease extra; and the girl with the daydream eyes. You'd seen the myspace emo punk, the lanky autoshop geek, the dark-skinned disco queen; the marching band, and the theater kid...and him. The charming, high-on-life football star currently stood outside the bus shelter, his hands cupped around his eyes as he peeked through the glass against the glare of the sun.

You hadn't seen Maddie. Not a glimmer or a shadow or the impression that she'd been and gone. Nothing. And you'd done your due diligence as soon as you'd heard about the blood in the boiler room. You'd scoured the town after dark, before school, whenever you could get away without raising suspicion. Her old haunts and favorite places had been empty.

Minus a couple of exceptions, but they hadn't been Maddie, so you didn't see the harm in continuing to keep the truth from Simon.

"Yeah." Simon said. He didn't sound convinced. "Thanks. For that."

You deflated, released his hand with an affirming squeeze, and made your excuse, "I gotta get ready for next period."

He didn't meet your eyes, simply pulled his phone out and put it to his ear. "See you later." The smile he gave you was tight, quick, insincere.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned and exited the bus shelter, tall dark 'n' handsome keeping pace as you made your way back into the school, his gaze a warm weight on the side of your face.

All you had to do was pretend he wasn't there. You'd done it countless times in the past, were well-versed in how to cover your mistakes.

You stopped briefly, reached out to open the door, and in that second, you felt a tingle up your spine and the closeness of a body behind you. His voice, a gentle rumble, spoke directly into your ear, the parody of soft breath tickling the hairs on your neck.

"I know you can see me."

You forced yourself not to react, perhaps stood a second too long before yanking the door open and marching inside, but you kept your eyes forward, and relaxed your jaw and shoulders. To the students milling about the hall, you were the picture of normal.

"Do what you want but I'm not going anywhere until you admit it." He said lightly, a step behind you as you maneuvered toward your locker.

Once again, you had to stop, twisting in the combination to open your lock. You fumbled, missing a number, had to start again. He leaned his shoulder against the locker beside yours, watched you through his lashes, a smirk pulling one side of his mouth upward.

You'd always been attracted to him. Had to suppress the urge to stare at him when he appeared in the same classroom or hallway as you. Having him interact with you—intentionally—made your heart quicken and the ability to think critically dissolve.

Oh God, not again...

Your brain fired a thousand synapses in every direction as you willed yourself to hurry before you accidentally did something stupid; steadied your hand to input the combination correctly. You tugged the lock. It stayed stubbornly latched. And then he leaned in, too close, the tip of his nose practically grazing your temple.

"You missed the 3."

The air was syrupy thick, fuzzy. In an effort to concentrate, you closed your eyes, repeating a mantra your great-aunt had taught you to center yourself.

You sensed his body shift, tilted further toward you like a bracket, then the sensation of blunt nails traveling up up up your back, catching in the material of your shirt as if the touch were real. Goosebumps erupted over your arms, your breath hitched, and you found your head slanting in his direction.

Fuck. You needed to—BANG—Jesus Christ!

Your eyes snapped open at the abrupt noise, your friend cackling wickedly as she took in your shock.

"Hey, silly." Mathilda Grace—of The Split River Graces, not that she'd ever say it like that—grinned proudly at the reaction she'd gotten out of you. "You ready to fail this test with me?"

You could still feel him hovering, but it seemed he'd put an appropriate amount of distance between you. Shaking your head to clear the last of the muzziness from a moment ago, you plastered on your most natural smile and responded, "Let's go disappoint our parents."

You managed to undo the lock and grab the right textbooks, transferring what you didn't need from your bag into your locker while Mathilda regaled you with what you'd missed after Simon had dragged you outside.

"What did he want, anyway?" Mathilda asked, more concerned than curious.

"To talk about Maddie." You replied as close to the truth as you dared. It had the added benefit of making Mathilda feel awkward enough to change the subject immediately.

"K, c'mon, bell's about to go and I need to grab my book, too."

Shutting and locking your locker, you chanced a sideways glance and were relieved to find that it was just you and Mathilda and the regular stream of other alive-and-well students making their way to their next class.

Still, as you and Mathilda walked toward Mr. Davis' class, you felt the tingle of his gaze on the back of your neck.

The next couple of days would be difficult, but you'd dealt with it before and could do it again. Had to do it again.

What you didn't anticipate—and probably should've, given what you knew about him—was Wally Clark's refusal to let sleeping dogs lie for a second time.

💀___________________________

PART TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #October Sun

1K notes · View notes

p3achyt3acak3 · 19 days ago

Text

Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings ⚠️: None really, just toothrotting fluff. Some cursing, everyone acting like a little shit 🤓 Also, it is a bit suggestive. There's no porn, but like.. Jokes are made and tensions rise so.. (You are kinda Han's BFF in this, just cause I feel like he'd be amazing to be friends with 🙌)

WC: 11.05K

Genre: Fluff, Toothrotting Fluff ☁️, A hint of Angst and insecurity if you squint 🤏 A bit of suggestive humor/moments

Maybe it was a bad idea to share this little secret with Han.

You knew better or should have known better, at least. You of all people knew just how much he liked gossip and tea, whether it was hearing a Stay tell him about them going on a date with their girlfriend/boyfriend, or something that was just in between the members.

Also, you'd practically been best friends with him since middle school.. You knew he couldn't keep his mouth shut even if he tried.

Why you even thought to tell him about this, was beyond you.. Maybe because he wouldn't stop pestering you. He could read you like an open book and everything about you, even down to your facial expressions, had them memorized and stored into the far depths of his mind.

"Come onnnn, you're hiding something from me, Jagiya.. I can see it all over your face." For what seemed like the billionth time since seeing Chan and Changbin off to the gym, Han prodded and poked.

Frustrating. Annoying. Loathsome.

But you loved him.

He was like an annoying big brother that you couldn't help but love and appreciate, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he could be.

Sighing, you tried in vain to continue your streak of ignoring him, focusing on the task of making yourself some instant noodles to soothe your hungry stomach.

"Jagiyaaaaa~" He whines again, this time poking your cheek and twisting his finger.

It's not enough to cause harm, but it's yet another annoyance that makes your brows furrow as you slice the hardboiled egg you'd prepared to put atop your bowl of ramen.

"Jisung, if you don't leave me alone, I will not hesitate to chop your finger off." It's a morbid joke, one that holds no actual truth behind it, yet Han immediately yanks his finger away from your cheek and scoffs.

"Someone's touchy today." He mutters under his breath. "Well, if you aren't going to tell me what's going on with you, can I just play a guessing game instead?"

After adorning your sliced egg onto your bowl of ramen, you turn around with a raised brow, only to find that he now has his arms folded against his chest, expression almost blank, save for the dimples in his cheeks when the corners of his mouth tilt up ever so slightly. "Guessing game? You're going to try and guess what's going on with me?" Now it's your turn to scoff, grabbing hold of the bowl of ramen, before taking a seat at the small table in the dining room.

Han follows suit, like a lost puppy, his cheeks puffed slightly. He's pouting because he knows you doubt his ability to be able to correctly guess what's going through your mind.

Though, before you can tease him further, there's a devious smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, one that you recognize all too well.

He's up to no good.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me that you may or may not have a little something something for Channie Hyung." There's no hesitance, no pause. He's confident in his assumption, and his smile only seems to grow even bigger when you almost choke on a bite of your ramen.

Unwilling to admit it to him, let alone yourself, you regain your composure and roll your eyes. "Way off. Don't know where you got that idea from, but pop off, I guess."

Even though you sound relatively confident and snarky, you have a feeling he's going to keep pushing it. If it had been any stranger, you know he'd have backed off by now, if not way sooner. If it was another member or yourself, though..

"Oh? So you weren't making googly eyes at Chan when he said goodbye to you this morning?" He asks this as if he's genuinely surprised, but you know he's far from it.

The little shit..

The question catches you off guard, but instead of reacting in a way that will possibly give you away, you freeze. Though Han knows you better than you know yourself and is able to read everything far too well.

"Maybe I'm seeing things, Jagiya, but I swear I've seen you get all soft and cute whenever Channie Hyung is around. When he compliments you or says something nice, I've only caught it a few times, but you blush like crazy." The more he points out, the more your ability to keep yourself grounded begins to tear away.

Had it really been that obvious? Or is Han just way too fucking good at knowing how to read you? Or maybe he just pays attention too much?

Either way, it's annoying just how right he is...

You don't realize it right away, but as per usual, the annoying shit in front of you does. Whenever you get nervous, you tend to fiddle with whatever is in your hands. If there's nothing in your hands at the time, it's a mission to find something that you can touch to help get your mind off of whatever is making you nervous.

Right now, you're fiddling with the metal chopsticks used for your ramen, the steaming pile of noodles now temporarily forgotten.

The teasing smile leaves his face when he notices this, and he pulls up a chair beside you, bringing a hand to your back to begin rubbing at it softly. He rubs in small circles, a look of regret now painting his face.

You feel bad for bringing the mood down, but the last thing you want to do is admit that you have feelings for someone who clearly isn't even available in any sense of the word.

"Ah.. I'm sorry, Jagiya... I was just teasing. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I swear." In a quiet voice, Han apologizes, but you shake your head and force a small smile.

"What're you apologizing for you doofus.. You know I can handle your teasing." It's a small pitiful laugh that you treat him with, yet it seems to be enough to at least lighten the mood once more. "The last thing I want to hear is you apologizing for just being yourself."

For a moment, Han looks a bit surprised to hear such a sincere comment slip past your usually snarky lips. The dynamic between the two of you was one of smart-ass comments and bullying each other, so naturally, comments and compliments such as these were considered a rarity. He ate it up easily, though, if the smile that curled up on his face said anything.

"Ah.. Don't get into your own head. I do that enough for both of us." He suddenly bites out, giving you a light smack on the back of the head. The look of offense on his face is enough to make you smile, that sinking feeling finally dissipating with replaced humor.

"Why are you the one who looks offended when I'm the victim here?!" You find yourself countering, poking one of his squishy cheeks in a playful manner.

"Oh, you wound me.. I thought you loved me." Suddenly, he's turning away from your prodding finger, a feigned look of hurt scurrying across his face as he juts his lips out in a pout.

While you know he's just messing around, as is typical for him to do, you can't help but mirror Han's actions, returning his pout and even going the extra mile by letting a small, 'Womp womp,' slip past your scrunched lips.

The silly moment between the two of you lasts for a little while longer, before things finally settle when Changbin comes through the door. "HONEYYY, WE'RE HOMEEEEE!"

Yep, that was definitely Changbin..

Han perks up almost immediately, his head peeking out from over the cushions of the couch. In a way, he looks like a meerkat poking its head out from its den, and the correlation makes you giggle to yourself.

"How was your workout, Bin?" Standing up from the couch, you make your way to where he's currently bustling about in the kitchen, more than likely trying to find himself a little snack after his session.

Turning to face you, he has a bagel lodged in between his lips, dimples growing when he notices you almost keel over with laughter at how silly he looks. "It was pretty good! Chan seemed in a better mood today too, so that helped a lot." With the bagel no longer lodged into his mouth, he finally answers your question truthfully, a small smile curling up against his lips. "Though he wouldn't shut up abo-"

"Don't you have to go and shower?" Seemingly from thin air, Chan suddenly appears in the kitchen, tackling Changbin in a playful manner, which distracts him from finishing his thought. Now the two of them are arguing back and forth on who's going to go and shower first, and the conversation you'd been having with the latter, gets forgotten.

Though you seem to be the only one who's itching to know what it was he was about to say..

Judging from the suspicious look on Han's face, he wants to know as well, but for some reason he backs off and minds his own business, clearly gossiped out for the moment.

Which shouldn't be as surprising as it is..

Changbin finally relents when Chan says he's going to use up all of his body wash if he showers first. Wanting to protect his newly bought bottle, he mumbles some less than appropriate things about Chan under his breath while making his way to his room.

If Chan hears him, he chooses to ignore rather than address it, and now it's his turn to look for a snack to satiate his hunger.

As you did with Changbin, you do the same with him, asking how his workout went. For a moment, it seems as though he hesitates to answer, tapping his fingers on the door of the fridge while he moves his head down to observe what's left to eat. "It went well.. Got in some extra reps today. Even Changbin was a bit surprised to see me so eager to workout." With a short chuckle, he pulls away from the fridge, a cup of yogurt in his hands.

"You do anything interesting while we were gone?" He suddenly asks, which sort of makes you panic, eyes subtly darting over to look at Han, who's acting as though he's heard nothing. He's trying his best to hide his smile, so you know he's just being a shithead.

Han playing that 'Guessing Game' earlier, is the first thing that pops into your head.

You can't just outright tell him, 'Yeah, Han basically found out that I've been crushing on you for like.. The longest time now,' and expect him not to react irrationally, let alone grow uncomfortable.

That's the last thing you want.

So navigating around the truth, much to Han's displeasure, you instead choose to lie.

"Not really, no.. I made some ramen for myself and just talked with Han about some silly stuff, nothing of importance."

While it wasn't a complete lie, you'd purposefully left out the bit where Han had kept pointing out how differently you'd been acting whenever Chan was around. The blushing, the getting all shy, the acting cute and sweet...

From the corner of your eye you can see Han roll his eyes dramatically, and it only further irritates you.

What did he expect? Did he really think you were actually going to confess how you felt about his leader, despite knowing good and damn well that he was probably the most unavailable of all of them combined?

"Ah, so up to your usual bad behavior?" Chan's voice suddenly cuts through your straying thoughts, and your attention is set on him once more. Upon asking this, one of his brows had raised in an amused manner, all while he was digging into the yogurt cup with a silver spoon.

Why did he have to tease..

It just wasn't fair..

"Yup! We talked about a lot of juicy stuff~" The shithead answered for you, recognizing your sudden silence as growing shy or bashful. This makes Chan look behind you at Han, who has since moved to take a seat at the dining table. The look he wears just screams curiosity, but being the polite and non-invasive person he tries to be, he doesn't voice it. "Don't worry, it wasn't anything bad, just.. Girl talk, ya know?"

God you wish Han would shut up..

As much as you love him, he's not helping with the current situation at all.. If anything, he's making it more obvious that something was DEFINITELY talked about amongst the two of you.

"Girl talk?" Amusement flies across Chan's face once more, like it's a permanent look for him, before continuing on to say, "You one of the girls now?" There's a short, almost breathy laugh that slips past his lips when he pokes fun at Han, and the sound of it turns the tips of your ears a bright pink.

"Certified girl boss since I met that loser." Han quips back, causing Chan to shift his focus back to you.

To avoid his gaze, you turn to shoot daggers into Han's body, which only makes him shrug nonchalantly while smiling like a bubbly idiot. "More like certified dumbass." You spit venomously, a warning that Han needs to stop with his antics right now before you actually do get pissed.

Thankfully, he reads your message loud and clear but decides to stoke the fire just a teensy bit more. "Yeah, you're right. Except I don't shove my feelings into a box nearly as much as you do, sooooo~" As soon as he says this, the mixed look of shock and anger that crosses your face makes him stand from his chair at the table, stretching his arms high above his head with an obnoxiously loud yawn. He's being overdramatic, as per usual, but at least you think he's finally going to lay off the teasing. "Anyways, I'm sleepy, so I'm going to go ahead and take a nap. No one wake me up unless it's for food."

With that last sentence, he saunters down the hallway of the dorm, disappearing into his bedroom with a soft click of the door.

Now it's just you and Chan, alone in the kitchen.

Normally, it wouldn't be a problem. If Han hadn't caught you red-handed, then things would be just fine, and you wouldn't be acting so tense and suddenly aware of everything.

A fleeting thought rushes through your head in that moment.

You have to make up some sort of excuse to leave the dorm and go back home..

Either that, or you have to figure out how to get out of being around Chan alone until either Changbin comes back from the shower or Han wakes up from his nap.

After finishing his yogurt, Chan throws the empty cup into the trashcan and puts the spoon into the sink, acting as he normally would even if you hadn't been there. Meanwhile, you're suddenly aware of how fast your heart is racing, how fast you're breathing, and how hot your face is becoming.

What you had assumed to be a small and fleeting crush, you are slowly beginning to realize, isn't that.

It's something bigger..

Scarier..

"You doing okay over there?" Once again, Chan's voice pulls you out of your own head, and it comes to your attention that since Han' departure, you've been standing in the same exact spot with your shoulders slumped, half-facing the kitchen, and half-facing the dining room.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just a bit tired is all. I can only handle so much of Han' teasing in one day." Trying to steer the conversation in a more friendly direction while also trying to avoid the airy feeling that's swimming around in your stomach, you crack a joke.

The worry you feel gets washed away when Chan laughs a little at your poor attempt at a joke, and you find yourself easily sliding back into normality. It's easy to fall back into a natural setting when someone like him is comfortable to be around.

The boys have all decided that tonight will be a get-together. They've all been working really hard for the past few weeks, working on songs and choreography to go along with them, and everyone had agreed that a night to just unwind and enjoy each other's company was much needed.

Surprisingly, it wasn't just Han who had invited you to the get-together, Chan had also shot you a text saying that if you were feeling up to it, you were more than welcome to join.

You may have gotten a bit too excited when he'd offered, but that excitement fizzled into logical reasoning once you'd calmed down enough.

Naturally, Chan was a relatively nice person.

He didn't like to make others feel left out.

His invitation was just there so that you wouldn't feel excluded, and there was nothing more behind it.

Though..

He knew that Han would invite you regardless, so it was a bit puzzling for him to extend an invite when he knew you were rather close with the shithead.

Whatever the reasoning behind it was, all that mattered was that you were finally going to see the rest of the members after having sparsely seen them throughout their weeks of work.

Although it wasn't a requirement, you'd decided to bring a bottle of Soju with you.

Han had been pretty vague when explaining what type of get-together they'd be having, but from his, 'Make sure you bring some painkillers in case you wake up with a headache in the morning, Jagiya~', naturally, you'd assumed there would be drinking.

As soon as the door to Chan; Hyunjin; Changbin; and Han' dorm opened, you were immediately greeted by an overly happy Felix, whose eyes shined bright, while his lips were curled into a huge grin. "Glad you made it here safe, what's that you've got there?"

No matter how many times you hear this man speak, his voice will always knock the sense out of you. Even still, you smile back at him and present the unopened bottle of Soju. "A little present for everyone for working so hard these past few weeks."

This seems to make him smile even more, except this time, his pearly whites are on full display. The sight honestly makes your heart melt. He's always so bubbly and kind to everyone. No wonder everyone called him 'Sunshine'.

"Hannieeee! Your girlfriend's here!" He suddenly shouts behind him, stepping off to the side to allow you access to the dorm. The endearment he used to describe yours and Han' relationship, made you all but smile. Instead, you found yourself cringing, nose scrunched up in disgust as you shook your head from side to side.

"Yahh! Ew! He's like a brother to me, Lixie!" Shooting a playful glare in the sunshine' direction, you watch as he breaks into a fit of gremlinesque laughter before simply shrugging his shoulders, as if unbothered.

"Yahhhh! Just because I call her Jagiya doesn't mean she's my girlfriend, you ass! I agree with what she said. She's like a sister to me." The devil in question blanches once rounding the corner.

For once, the two of you can agree on something.

Felix doesn't seem at all bothered by the scolding the two of you are currently giving him if his toothy grin has anything to say about it.

"Are you guys just gonna stand in the entryway all night? Or are you gonna come and sit down with the rest of us so Chan stops doing aegyo back and forth with Changbin?" Seungmin' voice, clear as day, calls out to the three of you from somewhere in the living room, his voice grated and giving off a slight bit of annoyance.

Finding a way out of the conversation, you squeeze past Han and Felix, heading to the living room where everyone is currently seated in a big circle. Some are seated on the couch and love seat, while the rest sit on the ground. As soon as you enter the room, Lee Know makes direct eye contact and offers a small smile. It's not too big, not too small, but it's enough to bring you some joy.

"You guys must be old with how slow you are." Seungmin states rather blandly from his spot on the couch. Chan, who's seated right beside him, looks a bit offended by the remark, used to the onslaught of old man jokes being used on him.

"Keep making old people jokes, Seungmin. I can assure you that once you get to a certain age, you won't find those jokes so funny anymore." Shooting him a playful glare, followed by a short laugh, you take a seat down on the floor beside Hyunjin and I.N, bottle of Soju settling right in front of your crossed legs.

A collection of 'Ooo's' and 'Ahhhh's' echoes around the room upon shooting back an equally sick burn, which only makes Seungmin roll his eyes in your direction. You stick your tongue out at him in return.

Han sits across from you, Lee Know, scooting to the side to make room for him, and Felix takes his spot on the love seat, poking his tongue out at Hyunjin as if to rub it in that he got the love seat to himself. They must have argued over who would take the love seat and decided to settle it by competing in a game of rock paper scissors. Of that, you were almost positive. Most unserious arguments were settled with the child's game, from what you'd observed thus far.

Conversations flow smoothly for the first half of the night, but once the booze comes out, the flow makes a drastic change.

"I know it's a cliché game to play when drinking, but I'm kinda in the mood for Truth or Dare." Changbin admits, pouring himself a small glass of the Soju you'd brought to share.

Almost immediately, your eyes fly over to look at Han, who's already looking at you with wide eyes. You hope the glare you send his way is enough to convince him not to mess around or push your buttons, but being the little shit that he is, he ignores it. "I think that's a great idea! I'm down!" In the most ecstatic voice possible, while still looking directly at you, he agrees to Changbin' suggestion without any hesitation.

Internally, you're screaming.

Though the people pleasing side of you doesn't want to bring down the energy of the group, you hesitantly agree to play the game.

You make the mistake of looking over at Chan at some point while people vote on whether or not you all should play the game, and he's in the middle of tilting back his second shot of whatever alcohol he'd preferred over what you'd brought.

As soon as he finishes it off, it's like he has a sixth sense and knows you're looking at him because he's very quick to look in your direction, eyes locking onto one another's while your cheeks begin to grow warm. You want to blame it on the alcohol, but you can't. You've only had one shot, and that's not nearly enough to get you drunk. Fuzzy, maybe.. But drunk..? It may take a couple more to get to that point.

He doesn't stop looking in your direction, and neither do you. It's a moment of tension that makes you squirm a little in your spot on the floor, which grabs I.N' attention, a soft tap on your shoulder from the Maknae pulling your lingering gaze away from Chan' finally.

"Are you feeling alright? You look a bit red?" Once your eyes finally settle on I.N, his brows are furrowed ever so slightly, and there's a look of brief concern etched into his facial features.

Why does he have to be so sweet..?

It makes it so hard for you to lie..

But you have to, for your own sake..

"I'm fine, Innie.. The alcohol must already be working its magic." A light-hearted laugh slips past your lips to further solidify the lie. It seems to work because the concern slowly morphs into a small smile that melts away your heart, and the overwhelming unease you'd felt earlier gets scraped under the rug.

"Who's going to start us off?"

Once everyone votes to play the game, Lee Know is the first to speak up, after having been relatively quiet since you'd arrived. Glancing over at him, you realize he's looking directly at Han, who has a pout on his face as if he doesn't want to be the one to start the game off. When his eyes meet yours, there's a look that's pleading with you to help him get out of the situation..

But, karma is a bitch.

For the past few days, weeks even, he's been far more pushy and ruthless with his teasing, so you thought he deserved a taste of his own medicine. Leaning back on the palms of your hands, you merely smile, eyebrows raised as you purposefully begin a conversation with Hyunjin. From the corner of your eye, you can see Han gaping at you, and it only serves to brighten the smile on your face as you converse with Hyunjin.

Though, when the game officially starts, you get a sinking feeling in your stomach.. Something that's telling you that maybe you should've given Han the escape route because now he has even more reason to be an ass and pick on you for the rest of the night. You have a feeling his questions will get pretty personal, and by the end of the night, you'll either be wasted or heavily embarrassed.

Maybe both.. If he's being really generous..

"Jagiyaaaaa~" He snickers, enlongating the 'a' sound to be even more annoying. Shutting your eyes for a brief moment, you bite down on the inside of your cheek and pray to anyone who will listen, that you have the strength to not smack him upside his head for continuously teasing you. "As much as I hate picking on you, I'm afraid you're going to be the first victim of the night." His feigned sympathy is enough to make your eyes snap open. He knows damn well what game he's playing.. The shit-eating grin he wears completely blocks out the innocent guilt he shares. "So! Truth? Or Dare?"

While you're taking your sweet time to decide which choice would be better, considering you know which way it's going, Hyunjin whispers something to Chan, who's still seated on the couch next to Seungmin and Changbin, and stands from his spot on the floor.

At first, you don't notice anything, far too lost in your own head to even begin to pay attention to what's going on around you. "Truth." Ensuring you shoot a sinister closed lipped smile in his direction, you give Han his answer.

Felix starts to make small chicken noises from his spot on the love seat, and Han soon follows suit, but you ignore them, confident in your decision.

Seeing that he hasn't quite gotten under your skin as much as he's trying to, Han quickly stops making noises and smiles softly. "Is there anyone in this room that you've got the hots for?" This question is followed by a bout of hushed silence. Felix and Hyunjin are the first ones to either suck in a breath or comment something very quiet under their breath.

You yourself are internally panicking. As much as you'd expected him to be ruthless right from the get-go, this question was far from your mind.

How the fuck were you supposed to answer that..?

"Aish, starting off pretty hard there, don't you think?" Then and only then, do you realize that the person Han is not so subtly hinting about, is sitting right next to you now.

Taking an educated guess, you'd figured Hyunjin's back was starting to hurt, so he'd asked Chan to switch places with him. He had mentioned throughout the beginning of the week that choreo was stressing his body out a bit more from his extra practice.

"I mean.. If she doesn't want to answer, she can simply just take her shot, but I think she knows what it means if she does that~" Han smoothly replies, leaning against Lee Know with a smug smirk on his face.

He's definitely been hanging around him far too much.. Not that it's a bad thing, but now he's just as much of a tease as Lee Know is with the members.

He's right about one thing though..

If you do decide to take your shot, then that lets everyone in the room know you're indeed harboring feelings for one of them. Lord only knows you can imagine just how chaotic it would get once that bit of information was revealed. The game would more than likely be dropped, and most of them would be oh so curious as to which one of them was currently holding your interest.

If Han wanted to play dirty. You'd play dirty.

"Aren't you all like.. Off limits? Not to mention, Stay currently holds your hearts, so, no?" It comes out snarky, like you almost couldn't believe Han had even bothered to ask you in the first place, which earns a small snort from both Chan and I.N, seated on either side of you.

When he's unable to snap back, instead choosing to shrug his shoulders, you lean back on your palms once more and celebrate the small victory in your head.

The moment is short lived though when the 10th round comes around, and it seems that you and Felix are the ones who are hammered.

Chan has only had a couple of shots, answering all truths and dares with little to no hesitancy, whereas the rest of them have only downed enough to just receive a buzz.

Somehow, and you're not entirely sure how or when it happened, but you'd ended up seated on Chan' lap, giggling and laughing like a bumbling idiot because of how drunk you were. He seemed unbothered, used to it because the others sometimes sat on his lap and vice versa. Everyone here would sit on each other's laps, and in no way was it a bad thing, nor did it make any of them feel uncomfortable.

When it came time for you to choose once more, you leaned back carelessly into his chest and laughed. All night, you'd been playing it safe and choosing truth, but with liquid courage coursing through your veins, it gave you the confidence to choose dare. Unfortunately for you, Lee Know was the one who had presented you with the question.

If Han knew something, 9 times out of 10, Lee Know also knew. You had given him permission, but only because you knew Lee Know wouldn't go around spilling your business to everybody and they mama.

"Dare this time? Are you sure you're up for it, sweetheart?" Chan asks quietly from behind you, a rumbling laugh vibrating against your back.

The endearment would've made your skin grow warm had it not been for the alcohol already doing it for you.

All you could think to do, though, was nod, quite sure of yourself.

"Well, if you're so sure of yourself, guess I don't have to go easy on you." Is all Lee Know replies back with before his smile grows into a rather sinister one.

"Yahh.. She's drunk, Lee Know, maybe cut a little slack.." Chan deflects in a soft and tender tone, wrapping an arm around your waist before he props you up into a more comfortable position on his lap.

You hadn't even realized you were slowly slipping, but he did, and the action only made you feel even warmer.

"Fine, fine.. But I'm not going to go too easy.." Lee Know relents, while Han sighs dramatically from beside him. "I dare you to pick whichever one of us you'd like to spend the night with and sleep there."

At first, he says it in such a way that the room grows unbearably silent, and it takes a few moments for him to realize how he'd worded it, before he clears his throat and speaks once more. "I meant like a sleepover. Get your minds out of the fucking gutter." He more or less glares daggers into Felix, who's now burst into a fit of gremlinesque laughter.

Though normally the dare would've made you anxious or nervous, the liquid courage was giving you a type of confidence you rarely allowed yourself to feel, so it didn't bother you.

It was weird how Chan had tensed up a little and then relaxed once Lee Know elaborated on what he'd meant, but you pushed that thought way down and instead thought about who'd be the best to spend the night with.

As much as you adored the boys, there were some things about them that you just couldn't deal with when it came to sleeping in the same room. You'd found that out easily when you'd all been beat after a long day. You with your Makeup Stylist job, and them with their Stray Kids business.

It was an accident, but you'd all fallen asleep in the waiting room while waiting for a meeting with the higher-ups to get started.

It was then that you'd found out, I.N snores pretty loud.. Seungmin isn't much of a morning person and doesn't like being woken up in general, so he's pretty grumpy.. Felix moves a lot in his sleep and had kicked you in the side at least twice on accident.. Lee Know doesn't really like sleeping around other people unless he's comfortable with them.. Hyunjin prefers to be alone, but like Lee Know, doesn't care if he's comfortable with them.. Han is already a no because you're just pissed off at him still..

So that leaves Changbin and Chan.

Though, you figure that Changbin is going to get up pretty early in the morning to workout, and you have a gut feeling that you'll be moody and hurting in the morning, so you want as much sleep as you can get..

Now, all that's left is Chan..

Maybe you should just take another shot..

But you're not entirely sure your body will appreciate that.. Especially not when you wake up in the morning with a wicked hangover..

"You don't have to if you don't want to, you know? And I don't expect you to take another shot either. I'm cutting you off for the night." The devil in question mutters softly, his chest vibrating once more against your back.

Not one to back down from a challenge, while also being extremely stubborn, you decide to ignore Chan, blurting out, "I'll sleep in Chan' room."

Felix laughs quietly at this, as do Han and Hyunjin, whereas I.N and Changbin genuinely look surprised that you'd chosen to sleep in the same room as Chan. Of all the people to be surprised, you'd have thought it would be Han..

Chan tenses once more, and you can feel it far worse than you had before. "But.. If he's not comfortable with it, I can just bunk with Han.." Trying not to make the situation even more awkward than it already is, you use Han as a second option, although he raises a skeptical eyebrow at you in return.

The look he's currently giving you is one that screams, 'You better not back out.'

"I'm sure Chris won't mind. He's always generous and tries his best to help everyone." Felix drunkenly slurs, a toothy grin on his face. "Butttt, it is good to make sure he's comfortable first. Consent is definitely hot." He adds, followed by a soft hiccup.

Although you're sure he hadn't intended for his sentence to come out the way that it did, the part about consent only warmed your body twice as much. You weren't actually 'sleeping' with Chan.. You were merely having an innocent sleepover was all.. Like when you were a kid and you'd go over to a friend' house for the night or vice versa..

"I think it's time for everyone to get ready for bed." Chan suddenly interrupts, wrapping an arm around your waist once more. "Watch your step and be careful, please. I really don't want any drunk accidents."

Moments like this, it really does seem like Chan has become the dad of seven rather rambunctious children, and it makes you smile. Apparently, it makes you laugh as well because he's looking down at you with confusion arched in his brow. "Something amusing, sweetheart?" He asks in a hushed tone, one that shouldn't warm you as much as it is, yet here you are..

"Just thought of something funny, s' all.." You slur, still giggling like a bumbling bafoon.

There he goes with the endearment again..

The others groan, while Felix laughs, and Hyunjin wraps one of his arms around his neck for support, beginning to walk him to his bedroom for the night. Seungmin rolls his eyes and follows close behind, mumbling something to a giggly Felix that only makes the ball of sunshine laugh even more.

Han and Lee Know are next to get up, asking Jeongin if he's going to crash with them or Changbin.

The fact that they didn't even mention Chan as an option was more than suspicious. It's not like Jeongin was off limits from sleeping in the same room as you and Chan.. It was a sleepover, nothing more..

A soft smile graces I.N' lips as he declines the offer to join Han and Lee Know, saying he may just bunk with Changbin or sleep on the couch.

By the time everyone disappears for the night, you and Chan are the only two left in the living room, and you're suddenly very aware of just how quiet it's gotten. "M' thirsty." Trying to stand up straight so you can retrieve a glass of water for yourself proves to be unobtainable at the moment, because you nearly stumble and fall, but a firm arm wraps around your waist and pulls you back down onto his lap.

"Hold on a second. You're wasted, so please don't get up too fast. I'll help you." Being the gentleman that he is, he slowly begins to stand, holding you by the waist securely, before the two of you are finally standing upright.

Your vision is swaying, and you're stumbling a bit as he leads you into the kitchen, and yet he manages to sit you down atop the counter while he reaches into a cupboard to grab a cup, before turning to the sink to fill it with water.

This entire night, he's been so gentle and kind, not to mention absurdly patient with you. When he hands the glass of water over to you, a small noise emits from your mouth as a sign of thanks before you tilt the glass and drink the contents entirely. It's peaceful in a way. Nothing is said between the two of you, but it's comforting instead of awkward. If there wasn't a lingering sense of guilt from basically feeling him up all night while inebriated, then that sense of comfort would be working in full effect.

"Stop overthinking.." Cutting through the thick bout of silence that had taken over the kitchen, Chan pulls you out of whatever typhoon you'd forced yourself into.

"Wasn't overthinking.." Mumbling more or less to yourself in hopes that he doesn't overhear, you deny his claim outright.

"You know.. You're not a really good liar. Even Han lies better than you." Sucking in a breath, he calls you out on your blunder with a confidence that genuinely surprises you. "If you're really that worried about what I might think of you if you choose to sleep in my room, then don't force yourself to do it. Lee Know won't take any offense to it. Sure, you may get called chicken for a couple of days, but what's more beneficial for you? Forcing yourself to be uncomfortable? Or being called a chicken for a couple of days?"

He makes a valid point.

Being comfortable and teased did sound better than being uncomfortable and anxious.

But it wasn't you you were worried about. It was Chan. Once Han had introduced you to his group of chaotic friends, you vowed that you'd do everything in your power to ensure you never overstepped boundaries or made anyone uncomfortable.

So far, you'd been able to keep that vow.

"Don wanna make you uncomfortable. Don wanna be a burden." It comes out far too slurred and mumbled, and there had definitely been more that you had wanted to say, but the swaying of the room was starting to get to you. On top of that, your heart was running a mile a minute, at least.

"No wonder you and Han are really close.. You both beat yourself up and think you're a burden on others when, in fact, you're quite the opposite."

This causes you to finally look at him, still barely perched atop the counter, blinking slowly like you have not a single thought behind those eyes of yours.

When you go to speak or attempt to try, your body begins to sway forward. Chan notices this and swiftly jumps into action, caging you in between his arms so that when you do lean forward, your head hits his chest instead of allowing your body-weight to send you tumbling to the floor.

"M', sorry. We should just go to bed." The words from earlier had since died on the tip of your tongue, embarrassment and self-loathing beginning to gnaw at your insides like a parasitic disease. Trying to push his body away in a last-ditch effort to stop invading his personal space or needing him to support you, you're shocked when he doesn't move away, arms still caging you in while you sit atop the counter in a drunken haze.

"Stop it. Hold still and listen to me, please." There's a pleading tone in his voice when he requests this of you, and your glazed over eyes finally rove up to meet his gentle yet concerned ones. You do as requested, no longer fighting against him. "You are not a burden. You do not make me feel uncomfortable. I am giving you my permission now to sleep in my room for the night, so please, don't beat yourself up over this. Like I said before. You have a choice. Don't force yourself to do this. I won't think any less of you, and neither will the others. You're Han' best friend, which makes you a part of this chaotic family whether you like it or not. You are okay, I promise."

So many soft yet firm reassurances slip past his lips that it's nearly impossible to even begin to process them all.. That on top of being inebriated, it's taking you quite some time to retain his words.

Once you finally do, you feel your skin prickle and buzz, growing warm once more.

This time, it's not the alcohol.

"I.. I wanna sleep in your room, please.." Is all you're able to croak, voice taut with emotion as you avoid eye contact with him suddenly.

"Are you positive? I don't want you to tell me that just because you're stubborn and don't want to lose against Lee Know. Everyone's comfort is my responsibility, and that includes you."

Since when did he get so close..

It's starting to make you feel dizzy..

"M' not being stubborn.."

How the words were even able to make it past your lips is beyond you.

By the time he finally relents and helps escort you to his bedroom, there's butterflies dancing around wildly within your stomach. This is getting ridiculous. He's just doing what he would've done had it been anyone else. You know for a fact that if it had been Han or Seungmin, anyone in the group, then he'd be doing the same exact thing.

Chan' room is ridiculously spotless. Everything is in its rightful place, organized, neat, very OCD.

Not that it's a bad thing.

You too like to keep things tidy.

Messes kinda irk you.

He takes you to the very plain bed that's leaned up against the far left side of the room and sets you down gently, removing himself from your body.

"Make yourself comfortable, alright? I'll be right back." With a calm, almost soothing voice, he reassures you his leave of absence is only temporary, before he disappears from sight.

Alone, the room begins to spin and you can feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks from both intoxication and emotions you're unsure should be brought to light. There's a pit in your stomach despite the lazy half-cocked smile you wear. These emotions of yours are getting out of hand. Maybe getting wasted wasn't such a bright idea.

Now that the room is deafeningly quiet, the thoughts that had been pushed towards the back of your mind earlier on in the night, begin to fester and grow ravenous, the thick tendrils of doubt; guilt; and anxiety, pooling into every pore that's embedded within your skin.

You feel bad for developing feelings for someone who's literally unavailable in nearly every sense of the word.

He's kind. Generous. His sweetness is so infectious it's almost tooth-rotting. The way he cares for his group.. No. His family, just opens up a whole new list of reasons why your standards are so high when it comes to dating.

You've tried to brush off these feelings for him for far too long. It's embarrassing...

No amount of Tinder dates.. Hookups at bars.. Nor just avoiding him for as long as you physically can withstand, even begins to cut the surface for the deep-rooted feelings you harbor for him.

You're delusional to even think that he might even feel some sort of connection for you outside of friendship.

For someone who you call your 'friend', these feelings are anything but friendly.

When the door opens, Chan walking in, clad in some sweatpants and a loose-fitting black tee, you're unable to process it.

You'd even go as far as to say, the outside world was currently a buzzing sound in your ear that grew louder and louder the deeper into your own head you went. He was a ghost, a shell, an illusion that wasn't real.

Only when he grabbed your face, cupping it in the palms of his hands, did you snap out of whatever daze it was that you'd put yourself into. His brows were knitted with concern, eyes holding a knowing look that made you feel even worse about the situation, and if you could just disappear, it would be less than two seconds before the room would only consist of himself and his things.

When he finally noticed you actually looking at him, not just staring through him like he was invisible, he began to let go of your face, not wanting to invade your privacy anymore than he already had. What he wasn't ready for, was you pulling his hands back up to your face, letting out a soft and content sigh. One that gave off a sense of comfort and safety. If that was the case, he was more than happy to leave them there. Being a safety net for others wasn't new to him. In fact, he embraced that role with open arms.

"M' scared, Chan.." You weakly mumble, eyes unfocused and glaring down at the bed.

"Scared? Am I making you feel that way?" Even though he still retained his usual calm and cool composure, his voice wavered with guilt at the fact that he could be the one currently making you feel this way.

With a very uncoordinated shake of your head, you muttered a quiet, 'No', followed by your gaze slowly drifting up to meet his own.

"I have feelings for someone.. Someone who is way too out of reach.. It's hurting me.. M' tired.. M' so so tired.. I wish I could get over him, but I can't, no matter how hard I try.." Leaving the specifics out of your confession, tears begin to gather at the corners of your eyes. If you'd been sober, none of this would have even been said.

Like always, you would keep everything to yourself and push it deep deep down in hopes that it would just go away.

For a moment, a stark silence takes over the bedroom. He looks as though he's having a hard time trying to figure out how to respond to what you just said, if his habit of biting down on his bottom lip says anything.

"Is this person someone close to you? Or are they someone you barely talk to, let alone see?" He finally asks, unconsciously beginning to rub his thumbs across your cheeks with a soothing caress.

You should shut up..

Really..

You've already said more than enough..

Anymore, and the secret feelings you'd been holding for him would be revealed and everything would go downhill.

His friendship with you would end. Things would not only be awkward between the two of you, but between you and the rest of the boys as well.. Han might be the only exception to that, of course.. Chan would probably think you were gross or weird for liking him.. The possibilities were endless..

"Hey, what did I tell you earlier about getting stuck in your own head?" After failing to answer his original questions, he asked one that seemed to pull you back into reality, grounding your soul to your body once more.

"M' sorry.. He's someone I feel like m' sorta close to.. I've been friends with a buddy of his for awhile.. But I don't know what he thinks about me.. He's nice to me, treats me like m' his friend too, and he never leaves me out of anything.. But I just.. Wish I knew how he felt about me.. Hell, even knowing what he thinks about me would be nice.." Now on a drunken ramble, you find it hard to close your mouth. Everything is pouring out left and right, even though you're doing your best to keep names and specifics out of the conversation.

Occasionally, you slip, but it's minor, and he doesn't seem to notice.

Or at least that's what he lets you believe..

Right from the get go, Chan senses something is off. The way you refuse to look him in the eye while you speak, when generally, you're very attentive and prefer to hold eye contact with whomever it is you're speaking with, provides him with the notion that this 'person' you're speaking of, is him.

Instead of calling you out on it though, he waits. Being the patient man that he is, the last thing he wants to do is pressure you into sharing something you may or may not be comfortable with sharing at the moment.

Plus, he has to remember that you're drunk out of your mind. You're vulnerable and very emotional right now. He wants.. No. Needs, to make sure he takes care of you and doesn't take advantage of the situation simply due to inebriation.

"You should pull him aside when the two of you are alone and ask him how he feels. If that's too much, then take baby steps. Spend more time talking to him consistently, hang out with just him more often if it's possible.. Try to be as close to him as you can to help you build up the strength and courage to have a one on one serious chat about what's been on your mind." His tone is soft, like a bed of feathery pillows, and it drowns you in an even deeper sea of comfort and safety.

Even still..

What he says makes your stomach do back-flips.

"I.." You begin to speak, but the words slowly die out in the back of your throat. Suddenly it's very hard to form words. Maybe it's your brain' way of telling you that it's time to shut up and quit digging a deeper hole than the one you're already in.

Chan lets go of your face and cages you in between his arms like he did earlier in the kitchen. His movements are slow and fluid, not too fast to where it catches you off guard and scares you, and for that you feel more than grateful. "If this guy doesn't like you or even want to be around you? Then he's an idiot."

The way the words tumble past his parted lips seems to freeze the air around the two of you. Now you feel even more exposed. Not in the sense that you're comfortable, just.. Confused.

You don't know why you do it, nor do you even have the mental capacity to even think too long and hard about it, but the closeness in proximity that the two of you currently find yourselves in, makes your cheeks heat up even more. You get lost in his eyes, forcing yourself to stop from looking down at his lips. How badly you want to kiss them right now should be a crime..

"It'd be a shame if he didn't see just how smart; funny; kind; thoughtful.. Not to mention cute.. You are." He's finding it harder and harder to keep himself in check. He knows you're inebriated, but your silence speaks louder than any words in his vocabulary. As much as he knows you want to speak, it's that overthinking brain of yours that's preventing you from doing so.

With him calling you 'cute', something in your brain actually clicks, and realization dawns, finally. If you're reading him wrong, then what you're about to confess will sure as hell be embarrassing..

"Like you, Chan.." The 'I' had been a silent whisper. Mouthed, but not spoken.

As soon as those words escape the shackles of doubt and guilt, the soft look of shock he wears, makes your stomach sink more than it should.

Although you hadn't been looking at him before, you most definitely weren't making any attempt to gaze his way period.

"M' sorry. Tired. Just gonna go t' sleep." After a bout of voluntary silence, you change your trajectory, avoiding the elephant in the room, while simultaneously blaming your inebriation on the emotional garbled up junk that's coming from your lips.

A friend had always told you, "Drunk words are often times sober thoughts," and now regret was pooling in your gut from not taking her seriously.

Turning away from him completely, you opt to try and situate yourself on his bed, laying on your side to signal that the conversation is no longer open. Though his presence is still very obvious.

He hasn't moved from that spot since the drunken words tumbled past your guilty lips.

The urge to cry right now, is stronger than it ever has been. A friendship that was near and dear had just been ruined by a stupid drunk confession.

Without even realizing it, sniffles begin to ring out into the tense atmosphere of Chan' room, and that quickly gets him out of whatever daze he'd been put under. "Hey hey hey.. Don't do that. Don't let your brain think such mean and nasty thoughts." Trying to comfort you in any way possible, he reaches a hand over to rub your shoulder blades, but then hesitates, figuring you'd rather have your space right now.

When there's no response, just a soft shaking of his sheets beneath his fingertips, his brows furrow together and he finds his bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth.

As much as personal space and boundaries are important to him, he can't stand when people hurt. What kind of person would he be if he just left you there to silently sniffle and cry until you fell asleep with tear-stained cheeks?

"Sweetheart.." The sound of his own voice as he softly coos in your direction, is almost foreign to him. There's a crack there that gives away just how conflicted he is.

Once again, no response.

Fuck it..

Reaching forward, he wraps you in an embrace, arms slithering around your waist as he holds you against his chest.

Your breathing is labored, and he can audibly hear the breath you suck in from the unprepared intrusion. His own breathing has picked up as well.

Holding you in his arms has always had that affect on him..

Well..

He doesn't know exactly when it started, but the feeling of friendship and family was beginning to dwindle away and become something more. Something he hadn't really dealt with, and it genuinely scared him at first.

That was, until he processed his feelings, and thought it best to shove them down so he wouldn't scare you off or weird you out.

Han would definitely pitch a bitch fit if he was the reason why his best friend stopped coming around as often.

"Being mean to yourself is only going to make you miserable.. Trust me, I know.. It's not a great feeling. When I told you that you weren't a burden, I meant it. Having you around has been amazing. Seeing your dynamic with Hannie, how different it is for when he's around us, it genuinely makes me happy. It's a whole new side of him I barely get to see, and you help bring it out." Once Chan starts talking, it gets easier. Everything that's built up over the past few months just begins to effortlessly fall from his lips like a stream of water from a water fountain.

"The boys all seem to like you and get along. When you're not here, they always ask Han where his 'soulmate' is." He lets out a soft chuckle at this, picturing a cringing Han in his mind.

For a moment, he silences himself. He has to gather all of his thoughts so that when he speaks, it doesn't come out all mixed and confusing. By now, he's realized that you need people to explain things in a straightforward way. Otherwise, you're left confused and unsure of what to think, do, or even feel.

Just as Chan is about to go to speak once more, your voice, quiet and strained, touches his ears, and he immediately purses his lips. "While I do appreciate the sentiments.. And knowing that the boys enjoy my company.. M' still curious as to how you feel about me.. How you view me.."

He can sense the hesitance in your voice.

Instead of keeping you in the dark, even though he know he should, for the sake of not only your life and reputation inside and outside the makeup industry.. Not to mention how Stays and JYP themselves would react should the news ever get out that he harbored feelings for an up and coming makeup artist.. But his own career would be on the line.. Although that was the least of his concerns..

He knew that most of Stay was always so sweet and caring towards himself and the rest of his boys. Dating rumors wasn't shocking news to him. If it turned out the rumors were true though, he knew Stayville would probably blow up for a few weeks at most, but then things would gradually calm down and everything would return to a somewhat normal schedule.

Stays who left would be missed.

Stays who stuck around, would be appreciated not only in silence, but in Chan' own special way.

"Earlier, you said that none of us were available to date cause our hearts belonged to Stay."

Confusion bubbles up in your head and it causes you to arch a brow. Though he can't visibly see it because he's currently facing your back..

Why was he bringing this up now?

"That may be true. Stay will always hold a special place in each of our hearts, and not everyone's love will be shown in the same way, but.." A brief pause, followed by a sharp intake of breath, tells you that he's battling with himself on whether or not he should really say what he's about to say.

"But some of us hold love for others, outside of the idol life. That doesn't mean we don't love what we do and our Stay.. Just, outside of the media and everything else that comes with being an idol, we share love with those we feel a connection with."

To you, it sounds confusing as shit, yet understandable at the same time. You're sure if you weren't nearly as drunk as you were, you'd be able to immediately understand what he was trying to say without a second thought. Right now though? It feels like you're trying to put together a puzzle and the last piece doesn't match up with the slot that's left.

He sighs, and that pulls you away from your attempted deconstruction of his words. "What I'm trying to say is.. I like you. I like you a lot. I don't even know when it started, but I've liked you for at least awhile."

In simplest terms, he's just confessed how he truly feels about you, yet it feels rushed and not as meaningful as he thinks it should be. The tips of his ears turn a bright shade of pink, and he finds himself stuttering, running over his words. "I-I.. Fuck.. I really meant to tell you in a more appropriate way.. Wanted to take you out to dinner or something, but I-"

"Don't overthink, Chan.." Mirroring his words to you from earlier on in the night, he's quick to purse his lips back together once more.

To say you feel ecstatic is a huge understatement.

The fact that he's even given you a straightforward answer, rather than skirting around the conversation as you'd thought he'd try and do.. He'd at least given you an honest answer.

Him returning your bottled up feelings was just a plus.

When the silence is too much, you find yourself turning around in his arms, facing him directly. It's hard to keep your eyes on his face though, because the embarrassment you feel is crashing down on you in waves. Still, somehow, you manage to nuzzle your head into his chest, taking in his scent, listening to his heartbeat prattle against his rib-cage like the harmonious beat of a drum.

"Can I kiss you?" Seemingly out of nowhere, Chan asks this of you, his voice soft and much lower in octave as compared to how it had been earlier.

The heat in your cheeks is unbearable.

You should've known something like this would happen, yet, here you are, frozen to the spot, unsure on how you should answer.

"If you're not ready to just yet, that's fine. I don't want to pres-"

Cutting him off, you take it upon yourself to lean up and capture his soft lips with your own.

He tastes of minty toothpaste. Lips plump and soft, like cushions that provide you with comfort and warmth. The kiss is soft and sweet at first. Experimental, to put it bluntly. But the more you both get used to having your lips against one another, the more heated the kiss seems to get.

It starts with Chan nipping at your bottom lip, teeth tugging softly at the flesh there. Without a care in the world, nor a single thought in your head, you comply right away, opening your mouth wider so he can maneuver his tongue against your own.

There's so many thoughts swirling around in his brain at the moment. All he knows is that he's already addicted to you.. The way you taste, the way you make soft noises every time he surprises you with another chaste kiss after you catch your breath for barely two seconds.

When he gently eases you back against the bed, his arms caging you in beneath him, his lidded eyes flutter open, and he hesitantly removes his lips from your own.

The sight before him, only has his heart beating twice as hard.

You're panting, softly, but he can hear the short intakes of breath you produce. He can practically feel the heat radiating from your body, and it's driving him stir-crazy. Your eyes are lidded and staring up at him so innocently, he swears he's going to go crazy..

When the impure thoughts start to force themselves up to the forefront of his brain, he leans down and places one last soft and gentle kiss against the nape of your neck, before plopping himself down beside you, the soft sheets adorning his bed, wrapping him in a comfortable embrace.

"You're going to be trouble for me.." He admits out loud, peering at your face from the side.

The smile that graces your face, followed by the breathy chuckle that seems to swim graciously through his ears, is enough to make his heart swell.

"I think it's going to be the other way around, but we'll see." Teasing him, you avert your eyes to the ceiling, before you feel him wrap his arms around your waist, tugging you closer to his body. Physical affection seems to be a go to for him, which you're more than happy to provide.

"Hm? Confident now, are we? A few little kisses went straight to your head." A short laugh accompanies his clap-back.

If it were up to you, you'd sit there and listen to that sound all day long.

As soon as you're about to fall asleep though, nestled comfortably in his embrace, he presses his lips to the top of your head and smiles.

"Let me take you out to dinner, please? I want to do this whole thing properly, or else it's gonna bug the shit out of me.." His laugh is infectious, spreading to you in an instant. When you agree through short fits of giggles, his smile seems to grow.

"Great. It's a date then, sweetheart."

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #christopher bang #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader fluff #stray kids fluff #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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moonjellysfeast · 2 months ago

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My Own Galatea- Crybaby x Top Male Reader

cw; (C/n) is Code name, manipulation, abuse, unethical science, dehumanization, Crybaby is @yanderefarm's character

You were probably too young to be involved in such an experiment, not even proper college age nor finished with your classes. But, you were very advanced in your studies, you were still top of your classes despite moving up several grades when you were younger, and they were getting desperate. You remember sitting in the meeting, this company had really only planned to discuss simple matters as a way of showing you how you were expected to interact once you finished school and they actually hired you. They got caught up in more urgent matters and forgot you bore witness to their panic and desperation until you raised a hand to silence the room and flatly announced.

"I have the darling gene... I could probably further his infection. He'd listen to me, I promise" They weren't happy about it, but they were truly desperate, so you were hired.

You first met him in the facility's basement, he was in a large glass room, a small hole cut into the bullet-proof glass to keep you safe when talking with him. You had several psychology classes and so you felt confident in your scheme to make him obedient.

"Hello" You spoke softly and he turned to you, clearly upset, "It's nice to meet you. Do you have a name?"

He glared at you for a bit before walking towards the hole in the glass and quietly grumbling, "I do... A real one..."

You smiled at him, he was only a year or two younger than you, but you would have to treat him more like a child until he knew you were safe. You approached him, ensuring you looked as confident as you felt, you weren't scared of him and he had no need to fear you yet.

"Give me your name, then. We can't be friends unless you tell me at least that much" Your words were laced with honey, he eyed your sweet smile with suspicion and you watched his eyes shift. He was coming around to the idea.

"Elias... I think... no, I am right... I am named Elias..." Even just at the confusion of his name, his eyes were round and damp. You held back the tug of a grin to give him a gentle smile instead.

"You can call me (Y/n). Elias is a beautiful name. It suits you" He looked at you with awe now, like it was the first compliment he'd ever heard, "You know, the people here call me (C/n), isn't that a funny name? Do they call you something like that?"

"Yes. Crybaby... I don't like it" He'd looked so adorable, crouched on the other side of the glass, confessing his thoughts like deep secrets, and watching you with those wet eyes.

You had been completely correct in your assumption that you could further his infection, when you next saw him, his irises were clear heart shapes and he hopped up to greet you at the glass.

"Good morning, Elias~ You seem energetic" You mused as he fidgeted a bit and nodded. "I'd like to play a game today, if you're up for it"

"A game?" He was clearly wary, surely experiments had been done to him in the form of 'games' previously, but he had to trust you.

"It's like simon says. Do you know that game?" he shook his head slowly, "Well, I'm going to tell you to do things, but I only want you to listen when I call you Crybaby, Ok?"

"Why?" He whined

"Because, It'll be fun. Friends play games all the time and we're friends now! We'll start easy; Crybaby, sit down," He sat with little hesitancy, "Very good. Stand up, Crybaby," He stood, "Elias, please come closer"

He walked toward you and you made quite a show of disappointment, causing him to scramble back into place and apologize, already welling up with tears.

"No, no, it's ok. You forgot the rules. Like I said, we're starting easy so it's not a big issue. Crybaby, come here" He hesitated before scrambling to the glass window, tears streaming down his face already.

The games continued each day, once he was good at listening as crybaby, you started referring to Crybaby and Elias as different people, even giving them rules.

"Crybaby doesn't know my name, you only know me as (C/n), right? You pet his head, watching him nod along to your words. "Who am I?"

"(Y)- no... (C/n)..."

"Good boy, you're really learning. I'm sure Elias would be proud of you as well, Crybaby"

You also had begun entering his cell, he adored when you did and would cling to you until you demanded he stop. With becoming so close to him, you also had to begin enforcing all of your rules more strictly.

"(Y/n) I don't kno-" He crumpled to the floor the moment you hand landed on his cheek.

"That's not what you call me, is it, Crybaby?" You sneered as he cradled his cheek and began to tear up again.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorry- mhhn, Please don't be mad! (C/n), sir, please!" You placed a hand over his own, silencing him.

"I know you didn't mean it, but we can't have you being bad, can we? No, Crybaby, you have to be a good boy and listen to me. Now, you remember where it is, mark the artery I told you to."

He shakily got up and made an x on the mannequin's neck, precisely where you told him to.

"Good boy" you smiled a bit, " We'll have to work on your crying. as much as your name is apt, no one will like you crying so much when you start to actually work..."

There will be more of this fic but I am stuck.

#top reader #sub yandere #top male reader #i need to write more #🪼 fic #on the platter(appetizer)

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blockgamepirate · 1 year ago

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youtube

This is my petty complaint time, this video annoys me SO MUCH and even more so what annoys me is that the latest comment on it is this:

HE TAUGHT YOU SO MUCH BULLSHIT, PLEASE NO, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM

And yes, I've been thinking about this stream for nearly three years now, I've been meaning to go through it to critique Wilbur's arguments, I just never got around to it

Wilbur: "Tubbo, you've created an anti-state capitalist dystopia"

So all Tubbo had explained so far was that his town had a big company that owned two other big companies. Nothing about the government or anything. It's true that one company owning all the major businesses is pretty dystopian, sure, but I have no idea where Wilbur got the "anti-state" thing from, usually capitalist companies are fine with the existence of states, states do a lot of dirty work for the capitalists

Spoiler alert: Tubbo's city turns out to be pretty much a city state so Wilbur is just wrong anyway, not that he ever acknowledges it even when it does come up

Also it's not like corporate acquisitions are completely unheard of in the UK, as far as I know. Admittedly the UK is also arguably a capitalist dystopia but you know what I mean, the concept shouldn't be all that shocking to Wilbur

He's being so dramatic and trying to make it sound like he's caught Tubbo in a mistake or something. He also keeps asking questions and then not letting Tubbo answer properly before taking like one word Tubbo says and running with it

But this is the one that I find the most obnoxious:

T: "I did some research into like economics and stuff and I discovered this thing called UBI, have you heard of it?"

W: "What's it stand for?"

T: "Universal Basic Income"

W: "Yeah, I know about that"

He clearly does not know what UBI is.

It becomes very apparent very quickly:

W: "So you've got universal basic income but then also the rich exist still?"

T: "Yeah! Yeah they do."

W: "How does that come about then,"

T: "So in my mind--"

W: "is this universal basic income different for different people?"

T: "No, no, the universal basic income is better for everyone, just the people who have--"

W: "In order for there to be a 1% that means someone's earning more,"

T: "Yes, someone is earning more"

W: "but that means the universal basic income isn't universal!"

T: "No no no, not everyone's getting paid the same but everyone gets the same to begin with, okay? But then you can build on top of it."

W: "Oh no, you've got a-- Tubbo, you've got a fucking social point system!"

T: "Have I made a social point system??"

W: "Tubbo, you've made China!"

None of what Wilbur says makes ANY sense here. The only explanation I can think of is that he didn't know what UBI was, made an assumption that it just meant "everybody gets paid the same amount of money" or something like that and then just spoke fast enough that Tubbo couldn't correct him

Tubbo is correct here, Tubbo knows what he's talking about, but he can't out-speak Wilbur who is just throwing so much bullshit out of his mouth that there's no time to even respond

So, UBI means that everyone in the society gets a regular payment of a specific amount of money that's the same for everyone regardless of their life situation (and generally a requirement would be that it has to be enough to live on, altho people do like to water this down a lot...) This would be completely irrelevant to your wages or salary or capital gains. You can choose to either live on the UBI or you can just do the regular capitalist things to earn extra money on top of the UBI

Obviously I'm not one of those people who think that UBI would solve all of world's problems, I mean I am an anarchist and all (and not an ancap either), but it's literally just a very streamlined welfare system. That's all. It would probably be a lot better than the current models we have but it's not fundamentally different. There's nothing particularly weird about it, the point is just to make sure that everyone has enough money to live on, in every other regard it's just normal capitalism

Wilbur completely misunderstands the whole thing (because, again, he does not know what UBI is so he's just trying to imagine what it might mean based on what Tubbo is saying) and jumps immediately to something he apparently has heard of, which is the Chinese social credit system, which has nothing to do with UBI. In fact I'm pretty sure it also doesn't actually have anything to do with income either, or at least not directly, so I don't think Wilbur knows what the social credit system is either

He's literally just talking in buzzwords

Like if you actually wanted to make a leftist critique of Tubbo's city, you could, don't get me wrong. But instead Wilbur keeps insisting that he's made a social point system despite Tubbo trying to explain why it's not that at all

Wilbur just keeps yelling over Tubbo until his own chat turns against him and finally Tubbo himself also kinda gives up

And from there Tubbo also kinda just starts playing into the bit and just lets Wilbur direct the whole conversation, the rest of it is just them getting more and more into the roleplay. Wilbur keeps talking about the state pension plan, even though Tubbo already tried to explain that it's part of the UBI (this actually is how UBI is supposed to work, it does indeed streamline most of the welfare spending! Obviously you can still raise questions about that (I can think of a few at least) but Wilbur didn't let Tubbo explain so I have no idea what Tubbo actually had in mind)

I could try to go through all of what Wilbur says here but it's just too much, so maybe some other time. Although to be honest there are so many other streams that I probably should talk about instead that some fans unfortunately took a bit too seriously because they assumed Wilbur knew what he was talking about

My point here is mainly that just because someone sounds really confident and knows a bunch of buzzwords doesn't mean they know what they're talking about.

#wilbur soot #tubbo #this is literally just petty grumbling #not a serious post #altho i do genuinely hope that people reconsider all the things they've 'learned' from wilbur

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strqwberryscapes · 6 months ago

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mistakes of an apprentice

the ask -> hey there! could i request a fic...you're badly hurt and qimir in disguise finds you. as injured as you are you just beg him not to tell your master, fearful of what he will do to such a weak pupil. qimir corrects your assumptions.

content warnings -> description of injuries, canon typical violence

it was almost impossible to stay out of sight on nar shaddaa. especially while leaving a trail of blood after every step. the only thing she could use to hide were the narrow alleys across the city, and even they weren't nearly as empty as they should be.

staying focused was difficult, when the reminder of her failure made walking difficult. there wouldn't be an issue if the guards were equipped with blasters only. instead, they carried fucking swords, and the one she was ordered to kill wielded a lightsaber, probably bought on the black market. of course, they weren't a match for her, but she heavily underestimated the seriousness of the situation. and now she paid the price- a cut in the side of her stomach, too deep for her liking.

she cursed under her breath. she was a sith. or, at least she tried to be one. with her potential, even a dozen of armed men shouldn't be an obstacle.

a cough escaped her throat, and she shivered. she could barely walk, and if her master found out just how weak she was... he trained her to defend herself. to attack. to kill. he can't see that she won, but barely.

yet, he probably will. one way or another. qimir might pass on what he was about to see- her vulnerable, wounded state. still, she prayed that he wouldn't.

it took her a few more turns and a worrying amount of effort to get to the ship. it stood in a very old, suspiciously looking dock, but she didn't bother with finding a more dignified place. it was supposed to be an "in-and-out" job.

first thing she was greeted with was qimir rushing to her side.

"finally!" he voiced in an accusing tone. "did you have fun? you know, i waited here for hours...and worried." he sent her a cheeky smile.

as much as his banter might have been funny at times, this was definitely not one of them. and he seemed to realise that rather quickly.

"are you...okay?"

she shut her eyes tightly and exhaled. her side burned like fire, and she was exhausted.

"it's just a- scratch." her voice was strained, and in opposition to her own words, her knees almost gave out.

qimir was quick to catch her. his brows furrowed, as he tried to hold her up. his usual, clumsy demeanor was replaced by seriousness.

"you're hurt." he stated, seating her down on the ground, and leaning her back on the wall. "where?"

he tried to uncover her cloak, but she grabbed his wrist instantly, stopping him in place.

"qimir." his name fell out of her lips, sounding like a plea. "don't tell my master. you hear me?"

he tilted his head in confusion.

"please. please! he will think i'm weak. it doesn't matter i killed that man. that i killed- i killed them all." her voice wavered. "all he will see is that i got injured- badly injured. he trained me so i would be able to handle myself, but turns out i- i can't."

the dock they were in was empty, and she thanked the maker for that. she thanked the maker for the shadows that hopefully covered her teary eyes.

if her master decided she is, in fact, too weak, he'd disown her, in the best case scenario. she'd never see qimir again.

or he'd kill her.

both of these options weighted heavy on her shoulders. she couldn't even bring herself to look at qimir.

he called out her name quietly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"we need to take care of this. now." he urged, yanking his wrist away from her grasp.

"qimir, please." she uttered, desperate, exhausted and in pain. "he'll throw me away."

qimir froze, clenching his jaw. did she really think he'd get rid of her, just like that? today was the first solo mission he assigned her with, and force, she completed it! he knew he wasn't the one to show affection whilst underneath the mask- but he tried to make up for it when he was just qimir. when he was her guide and supplier. he wanted to make up for that.

but of course, she had no clue.

and now, she was in front of him, wounded and barely conscious.

he needed to make her understand.

"take that cloak off. i'm not asking." qimir said firmly, as he usually would during training.

her eyes widened at the sudden change of attitude. his voice sounded different from how it usually was. there was something behind it- something she couldn't quite place.

yet she obliged, shrugging the fabric off of her shoulders, wincing. she revealed the injury, shifting a little to the side. her robes were already damp and colored with dark crimson.

qimir didn't say a word, and his expression was unreadable, yet laced with worry. he seemed to be contemplating something.

"stay still." he commanded quietly.

he moved one of his hands to rest atop of her wound.

"what are you doing-?" she hissed. the pain certainly didn't get any better from the pressure.

once again, he remained silent. he focused, steadying his breath, and letting his energy flow through his extended arm.

she felt the burn dissolving, and she wondered if qimir finally used his potion-making skills...

"what are you do-" she started, but he cut her off.

"there."

what has he done? she peered down carefully, expecting to see the injury but-

there was nothing there. her skin was untouched.

in one terrifying second, she had realised that qimir had healed her. force-healed her.

it could mean only one thing, and the thought alone made her stomach twist in fear.

"master." was all she could utter.

qimir gaze was different now. his force signature shifted to a dark and heavy, familiar one.

"you did well today, acolyte."

he said calmly, as if nothing happened.

"master- i-i'm so sorry-" uncertainty gnawed at her. what could all of this mean for her? for them?

"you should rest." qimir's voice was gentle, so different from what he sounded like from under the mask.

as he stood up, he extended his hand towards her.

she stared at it dumbly for a moment, then hesitantly let him pull her up, to his side.

to his side, where she belonged.

now, she was certain of it.

#manny jacinto #manny jacinto x reader #qimir the acolyte #qimir x reader #star wars qimir #the acolyte fanfiction #the stranger x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 2 years ago

Text

Well, Actually

Summary: Spencer gets frustrated as Reader proves him wrong about an unsub's profile.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff-ish

Content warnings: discussions of gender, sexy implications, Ernest Hemingway

Word count: 1.5k

It’s when I flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED that I can finally breathe. Saturday Sale Days at the bookstore are usually easygoing, but most people took refuge at the windows thanks to the crime scene across the street. Another sex worker was murdered, according to the agents who were here earlier. Well, one of them looked like an agent; coated from head to toe in black and seriousness. The other, however, might as well have been a pretentious preppy middle schooler who thinks a doctorate — three doctorates (he made sure to correct me) — gives him the excuse to lack social graces.

I’m not used to running into FBI agents regularly. However, I’m fairly confident that questioning civilians is more about further insight and not running to the end with confirmation bias. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, had his confirmation set that he and his team were looking for a woman riddled with internalized misogyny who was killing sex workers and leaving quotes from Ernest Hemingway pieces.

So, is it wrong that I may or may not have said they might actually be looking for a male with possible gender nonconformity issues? According to the quotes written in lipstick and discussions revolving around Hemingway’s relationship with gender, it was the first thing to pop into my head.

And it was Dr. Reid’s first instinct to take it personally, like any other gifted child who’s never learned what it’s like to be wrong (possibly). His reaction mainly consisted of raising his voice and saying my assumption “was not relevant to our case” and taking a collection of Hemingway’s short stories without paying for it. I haven’t found a suitable way to explain that to my boss yet.

Regardless of his reaction, I had no reason to expect to see him again. I got a card from Agent Prentiss after she questioned me behind the counter and haven’t heard a word since. It didn’t matter then because we were closed, and I had the day off tomorrow —

Knock, knock, knock. A simple three-raps on the glass. The night makes it difficult to see who it is, but I’m more than familiar with the panic button under the register. So before I turn the lights out, I get closer to the door to find out who on the other side can’t read.

And without thinking, I open the door, but don't let him in. “Agent Reid.” I can’t help but push him just a bit.

“Dr. Reid.”

“Right.” I faked a laugh (years of practice). “Well as you can see we’re closed for the night so —”

His hand is out, holding the book. The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. The paper cover is already pulled up at the corners and the spine is cracked. Nothing display worthy, that’s for sure. “I took this.”

“And you had it for six hours. How did you decimate it so quickly?”

“I was using it as a source while we were trying to solve the case.” His hand was shaking, from nervousness or lack of strength to hold a paperback in one hand for longer than a minute, either could be possible. “I figured a way to make amends was to come back and purchase it.”

I looked down at the book and looked back up at him. Sincerity and boyish charm force me to hold the door open for him and let him in. When he comes in, his under eyes are darker, perhaps because he's a night owl, or because of his job. His hair is still fluffy like this morning but droopy.

He was prepared to call it a night before coming here. But thievery is apparently too heavy for this agent’s shoulders.

I walk to the register, booting up the fancy tablet. “So did you? Solve the case, I mean?”

“We did.”

I scan the barcode, luckily he didn’t ruin that. “And? Did she explain the Hemingway quotes at least?”

Silence, only for a moment. I see his hands digging into his pockets. He pulls out a debit card and hands it over. “He, actually.”

“What?”

“He didn’t explain the Hemingway quotes but said he targeted sex workers because they were ‘freer than he ever would be.’”

Silence swallowed the room immediately upon saying that but of a different kind. The kind that was ripe for me to brag and possibly even do a little dance. But I’m patient, and I don’t like interrupting people. I tap the screen slowly so the good doctor can gather the words. I even took another glance and his eyes were already locked on me. It would’ve made me jump if he didn’t follow it with “You were right.”

There it is. “Hmm,” I say as I keep the arrogance down to a minimum as I contemplate my next words. I take his receipt and scribble before bagging the book. “So do I get a one-way ticket into the bureau, or do I take your place or —”

“Thank you for your help." He says slowly as if he were being ordered to apologize. Like he wrote these words in a document before coming here. “Your observation sent us in the right direction.” His hand is out, waiting.

I also have a talent for dragging things out. When I shut the techy stuff down again, I go back around and hand them to him, so I can get closer. Read his face. When he reaches out and just touches the paper, I jerk the bag back. “That’s not what you want to say.” I let the bag dangle off two of my fingers, shamelessly drinking in the moment. “Come on, it’s gotta be killing you.”

He rolls his eyes. Briefly, but enough for me to notice. “What could be killing me?”

“That you, an FBI agent, with two PhDs —”

“Three PhDs.”

This is so fun. “Three PhDs was outsmarted by a girl who works in a bookstore. Merely a bachelor's on my resume.”

“That is not the case.” He says.

“It seems relevant to the case now.” That intended to burn, and it did. Scorched actually. I could feel it from here, so I walked to the back to find the lights, expecting him to follow me.

He did. The creaking of the old wood floors echoed as we walked, there was no rhythm or synced steps, just two different walking patterns, one at ease and the other eager. “Just tell me how you figured it out.” He says. “Hemingway has been praised for his writing style and the way he wrote certain female characters but his macho personality indicated he enjoyed nothing feminine.”

A chuckle might have been appropriate, but I replied with a stark laugh. A bold “Ha!” As I opened the lightroom door. “Because macho men are known for being the happiest people on Earth, according to history.” With a click, the lights flickered steadily before turning off. I had my phone flashlight ready, though. “Honestly, Dr. Reid, it might be worthwhile to take a break from reading and watch a documentary on the man. It adds up quickly, even someone like you would get it.” I let the flashlight guide me back to the front, avoiding collateral damage from bookshelf corners.

Until Dr. Reid stepped in front of me, causing my head to collide with his chest. Somehow, I didn’t drop my phone and instinctively reached for my nose. “Someone like me?”

“Ow, first of all. But yes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I rub my nose in the dark. “That even a predictable bookish boy like you can eventually come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t know everything.”

“And you do?” He asked.

“I never said that,” I admitted.

He looked at me skeptically. Even in the dark, I could feel my arrogance might have gotten the best of me here. I tried looking away, to another dark space.

He, however, did not. “What else did you say? Predictable?”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

He sighs, and air from his nose brushes above my lip.

Then so does his hand in my hair.

His lips, though, were quite the opposite. As if all his frustrations couldn’t take it anymore and needed to be let out with a teeth-smashing, saliva-coated spectacle (that no one could see. Not even us.) All I felt was wandering hands and the wall hitting the back of my head before he pulled away. His hands are still on my waist, and he breathes sharply in and out. “Was that predictable?” I heard him swallow.

I contemplated my response for a short while, wondering which one, a yes or a no, would get him to do it again. So instead, I just grabbed where I assumed his head would be and jerked him down to meet my lips again. It worked. His hands wrapped tight as if he glued himself to my skin. “Will you get reprimanded by your team for being somewhere you aren’t?” I ask between breaths and lip separation.

“Maybe. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“I won’t admit anything,” I said. Whether it was to see Dr. Reid’s night turn out worse, or to keep a secret from his boss about a makeout session in a bookstore, I’m not sure. But his body was thin, layered with clothes. Warm.

“What will you admit to?” He whispers, moving our bodies, begging for more kisses. Or just more.

“Dinner?”

“For?”

“Education purposes, Dr. Reid.” My hands can’t help but explore. “Seems like we’ve got a lot to learn.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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trashytoastboi · 10 days ago

Note

Hi, can I requeste something really fluffy, really High school romance.

I wanna request an S/o with Trafalgar Law, Ace and Zoro confessing their love to S/O, with her being part of the strawhats

Please, I'm dying to see it, good luck with your grades, ly.

Greetings!! So, I found my notes on your request and completely forgot the part of the strawhats. I did however write this with Shojo manga vibes in mind for that whole high school first love kind of vibe. I do hope you enjoy it ^^

Headcanons: Highschool AU! Law, Ace, Zoro x F!Reader confessing their love to her.

> (Female pronouns) <

Trafalgar Law

🍄 Law had always been that mysterious kid, he had a very small circle of friends and everyone could only admire him from afar. Everyone only knew that he was always scoring first on every exam - a typical genius is what they called him. Very few knew him and it always led to others making their own assumptions about him. Some said he’s cold and cruel, others said he’s just quiet and some claimed him to be aloof.

🍄 However you knew him a little differently. He’s quiet, he’s awkward but you found Law to be very kind. You admittedly felt caught in a weird limbo. You saw how he acted around his friends. It was different from how he interacted with you. He is always sincere around you, not as chaotic as he is with his friends. You thought you were reading too much into things when he did small gestures, glancing over your shoulder to correct a mistake you made in your homework and taking the time to explain it, listening to you ramble on about things he didn’t really have interest in yet he sat and listened intently without complaint.

🍄 He seemed to be spending more and more time with you. Catching those coy smiles whenever he thinks you’re not looking. Or how he teases you over silly things. He takes time to walk you to class, and occasionally walk you home even though he lives in the opposite direction. You couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that maybe Law liked you? You dismissed it, he’s just being a really good friend. You knew Law’s kindness and that made it harder to get a read on it sometimes.

🍄 While you were wrapped up in your own thoughts- Law was caught up in his own as well. He didn’t intend to fall for you. It wasn’t one of those subtle feelings that he was aware of, the realization just hit him all at once and he was shell shocked by the realization. At this point all of his friends knew, hell most of the school knew. It was only Law and you that were in denial about the whole situation. He didn’t like ambiguity, he wanted certainty, so he wanted to tell you his feelings…

🍄 Law walked by your side, his now usual routine of walking you home. It almost seemed like a whim when he asked you if you two could take a detour. You smiled and happily followed him when he led you to a park, the path was a much longer detour, however you get to walk under rows of cherry blossoms. Around halfway through the pathway, Law stopped and looked up. Probably no better place than this. You turned back, wondering why he stopped walking. Law had the most content smile on his face as he confessed. Telling you how much he’d come to like you and that it was more romantically inclined than he’d like to admit.

🍄 Law looked nervous, an expression you never thought you’d see on his face. He shifted anxiously while waiting for your response. The silence felt like it lasted forever, Law was near breaking point of telling you to just forget he said anything at all. To be honest you’d be feeling the same way you just kept denying your own feelings. Was there any real reason to deny them now? Law clearly felt the same way. The most joyous moment was watching Law’s face light up and get shy when you took his hands in yours. He had his answer and you had yours.

Portgas D. Ace

🔥 Ace, everyone knew him. Most people were friends with him. He befriended every clique, overall he is just a really likable guy. He started out as the class clown and ended up being Mr. Popular according to everyone around him. It’s funny since his younger brother is regarded as one of the most rambunctious troublemakers the school has seen in a long time. His friendly nature made him easy to approach and easy to talk to, he is honest, sincere, earnest and humorous. The perfect combination for someone everyone wants to be friends with.

🔥 You met Ace when your class shoved their cleaning duties on you and left you to do everything, what usually was a four person job was left to you alone. You swept the class, took out the dustbin, cleaned the chalkboard and rearranged the desks. This went on for a few days and Ace saw you cleaning the class alone again. He dropped his bag off in the corner and without a wasted second he was helping you clean. He wasn’t even in the same class as you. You thanked him and he took that as his chance to start talking to you. The next day before your classmates shoved cleaning duty onto you, Ace was there telling them he had plans with you and whisked you away, leaving your classmates to do their own cleaning for once.

🔥 While Ace greeted everyone and had a few stop and chats, if he saw you…everyone already knew. He’d smile and excuse himself, running to catch up to you. Instantly settling into your pace and greeting you good morning. He’d always offer to carry your bag and was just so happy to speak to you. When lunch time came around he’d be trying to find you to eat together and loved hearing you talk about anything; how boring math class was, how much homework you had, how pretty the sky looked when you were walking to school. He’d smile and hang on your every word.

🔥 Ace did not stay in denial for long. He knew exactly how he felt. He’d often tell you that he liked you. However you always took it as a joke because he’d say it when you shared your lunch with him, or even made him lunch on a few occasions. Even sharing an umbrella on a rainy day he’d tell you he’s only sharing because he likes you so much. However he always said it with a laugh so it was easy to think it’s a joke.

🔥 It was another typical day, Ace came to eat lunch with you and fell asleep. When you woke him up he chuckled in thanks as the bell rang. He’d found his way to resting his head on your lap. He looked up at you, without a laugh - and rather the most sincere smile he told you he liked you. You laughed, and his words “I’m serious” struck you. You looked at Ace properly, he was being dead serious, you questioned every other time and he’d confirmed the same thing. He liked you from the beginning. From the time he saw you sweeping that empty classroom till now, his feelings only grew. “Go out with me?” Ace asked.

🔥 You paused, your breath caught in your throat. You waited for the punchline if this were a joke. Ace smiled and gently touched your face, his hands were always so warm. “Will you go out with me?” He asked again, his tone gentler and endearing. You nodded, unable to muster the words. You were a little too shocked but all you could do was nod and hug him. The remaining distance between the two of you easily closed as you got a little emotional over hearing him confess.

Roronoa Zoro

⚔️ Zoro is a bit notorious around school. For lack of a better word he’s a delinquent. I mean that’s everyone’s first impression. The piercings, never wearing his school uniform properly, and his bad habit of constantly getting into fights. He’s usually injured, a bit bruised and battered from whatever skirmishes he finds himself in. He constantly ditches class to sleep and everyone warns you to stay away. He's a no good punk by their standards. He’s got some very close knit friends but they’re all known as troublemakers. You always see Zoro arguing with Sanji but you can tell they’re good friends.

⚔️ The first time you met, he was lost and looking for his classroom. You told him the directions and yet he came wandering back down the exact same hallway, opposite from where you told him to go. So you took him to the class yourself, and even covered for him saying you had Zoro helping you run errands when the teacher questioned him about his absence. You didn’t really have a reason for doing it, to you it seemed like he didn’t intend to get lost on one of the occasions he actually wanted to go to class.

⚔️ Zoro always had a cool kind of attitude, nothing could affect him aside from when he got into fights. However around you he seems a little skittish and almost like he forces himself to seem gentler. He’s awkward with showing that he cares but he tries in different ways. If he sees you carrying something heavy, he’ll help you carry it. If you’re worried about something he’ll listen, if he sees people giving you a hard time, well scary dog privilege? He didn’t realize it himself but he found a reason to be around you more often than he’d like to admit.

⚔️ Sanji was the one who came up and asked about the cute girl Zoro is always with. The only one he spends time with a lot is you- so the person that Sanji is asking about has to be you right? Zoro stated that you’re a friend and Sanji seemed excited. Asking Zoro to introduce you to Sanji, when he questioned why, Sanji nonchalantly stated that he was going to ask you on a date. This didn’t sit right with Zoro, that’s the last thing he wanted. To introduce you to that damn swirlybrow of all people!?

⚔️ Despite the very obvious rejection of Sanji’s request, the guy didn’t take Zoro’s hint and practically ambushed you while you were waiting for Zoro. He happily introduced himself and told you how cute you were and that he wanted to take you out on a date. It was so embarrassing, especially since Sanji did it at the school gates and gained an audience of students that were on the way home. Zoro grabbed Sanji by the shoulder and pulled him away. Sanji was a little annoyed and without thinking Zoro practically declared that Sanji can’t ask you out because he doesn’t want to see the one he likes going on a date with Sanji of all people. Cats out of the bag…Zoro practically announced in front of the entire school that he’s in love with you.

⚔️ You could see the shock in Zoro’s face and the hushed whisper when he said he didn’t want to confess like this. You grabbed his hand and led him away from the school gate. It was a bit of a speedy run before you came to a stop to catch your breath. Zoro still looked a little down, and frustrated. He apologised for saying it so bluntly, so he repeated it, he looked straight ahead at you. Asking if you’d like to go out with him. You were happy to accept and it was a rare sight to see him happy in a shy way.

#trashytoastboi #one piece #trafalgar law #roronoa zoro #portgas d ace #gender neutral reader #female reader #fluff #male reader #sfw #one piece imagines #one piece scenario #highschool au #law x reader #zoro x reader #ace x reader

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chessboredom · 28 days ago

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Can we please get a rant on PV's characterization ? Asking both to hear your thoughts and to see if I need to reevaluate my own idea of it because accidentally mischaracterizing favourite characters is my biggest fear ":)

So I'm having the thing where "opening your favorite character's tag only to see mischaracterizations" That makes me go "Oh I can't wait to look at fanart of my blorbos in tumblr dot com!" only to remember that people play the English version(scum of the earth) and not the Korean version(literal Cookie Run Bible to me) and then feel like I directly get shotgunned at the face and I never open the tags ever again.

This is Not to say that "Your characterization is wrong!!" or me trying to discourage anyone. It's just not for me, das all. Go do whatever you want forever.

ANYWAYYYY

(I'm still continuin this LMAO)(NOT DONE YET UUGGHHHHHHH)(still isn't done but I'll just make a new post lol)

This also extends to Shadow Milk characterization because I cannot characterize one without the other as a compliment. (I have the Chronic Narrative Foil illness from being a dirkjohn shipper. That god forsaken ship rewires your brain. I've made people like them and I clearly see the impact.)

PV is not nice, he is kind. His actions take effort with no exchange. He could impact a group of people one day, they love him, but they disappear. This is the part where he lies. PV is self-sacrificial, and he says anything that would benefit his subjects happiness over himself. It's important for him that they be happy for their whole life because they are all fleeting but he isn't. He is immortal.

(This is because I see people draw him hugging Smilk, which is something Smilk would HATE SO MUCH.)

He also changed from a patriarchic kingdom into a democratic kingdom.

And he isn't above violence, he just chooses to not participate in it until he didn't have a choice when they were fighting against Dark Enchantress. He protected his friends then stepped forward to attack her with everything he's got, and it's DARK MOON MAGIC. NO SOUL JAM. (I should mention that he USED TO be in the Middle position. This is a Smilk parallel.) Then gets SUCKED into a singularity she made which EXPLODED EVERYTHING AROUND THE KINGDOM TURNING IT INTO A BARREN WASTELAND, still manages to trap her in the Moonstone. He even enclosed the Vanilla Kingdom IN A TIME STASIS and IT FLOATS IN THE SKY. <-ALSO MADE WITH DARK MOON MAGIC, which is similar to SMILK'S DIMENSION but Smilk's has the future of the past and the present coexist.

(I correct my past assumptions about Healer Cookie now too.)

This so comes with the price of losing his memories, but his miraculous healing stayed. THIS was another parallel to him becoming "Truthless Recluse" (The Hermit of Truth in Korean) when Dark Enchantress said that he was "falling deeper and deeper into the abyss." PV's self was hidden in the dark side of the moon with the Light of Truth who was always calling out to him, until Gingerbrave came and changed everything, and then it made the voice louder. That's why his eyes were open majority of the time when he was Healer Cookie nearing the end of the Timeless Kingdom adventure, because he wasn't *full* Pure Vanilla yet. (PLURALITY MENTION!!) Healer Cookie is another personality who is taking place for Pure Vanilla's arrival. Until PV finally comes back, then reuniting once more with Healer Cookie, who is also himself.

Then he just sends Gingerbrave and Friends™️ into a quest to send letters to the other Ancients' kingdoms because he had to stay in the Vanilla kingdom, and the possible survivor's guilt he holds in that Dark Flour War and also to avoid the shock of having to meet them in person because you know he's understanding the situations they're possibly in since it's been decades since they met.

One Ancient who deeply cares for him as a friend is Hollyberry Cookie. Friendship gang's first meeting with Hollyberry Cookie was her PRETENDING to be a different cookie because of the CRUSHING GUILT she had of not being able to protect her friend that she abandoned her kingdom and her role as queen(sloth moment). And in one of PV's kingdom interactions with her is HB asking if he ate. 😭(I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP SO MCUH)

(I WILL STILL NEED TO WATCH BEAST YEAST EP 1 - 2 AGAIN TO ADD TO THIS I SWAER. TO GO.D)

Skip to EP 7 - 8....

PV went to the Spire after they just found some totally (not) legit info about "Beast Binding Ritual," he met Fortune Teller Cookie, who was also himself(I cannot read tarot card. Might do that later), and then he was separated from the Friendship Gang because Smilk couldn't care less about them. Smilk wants Pv to focus on HIM. Main Character of the show. Not PV, the half-penny(fool or idiot). He literally puts himself into PV's memories, and then proceeds to tell PV that "I've been with you your WHOLE LIFE." "You need me." Okay projecting bitch. Shut up. That's bullshit.

PV doesn't need Smilk. PV has lived with no Smilk. It's the other way around. Smilk NEEDS PV. He's obsessed with him. Very obsessed that he is PROJECTING. In En he called PV his "other-half," but in Kr he called Pv his "lesser half." He is still in control. He does NOT want to see others authority over him, despite their theme of King and Jester.

Historically is that jesters where actually an incredibly valued part of royal family’s almost treated like a noble and were the closest to the king outside of his family. They where just silly goofy guys that they kept around. Jesters where so respected they would stand next to kings and help them make important decisions. A lot of jesters WERE scholars. They had to be diplomats in place of their kings.

At the time of Tr!PV, he wanted to push him to the BRINK OF BREAK DOWN. (Take a look at this freaky shit here.) But good thing Friendship Gang was there making him remember who he is, or else he would've actually became a Cookie of Lies, and remembers that his role and purpose, just like Healer Cookie, was to ACT like a different person until PV wakes up and becomes one again. This is a parallel to how Smilk has different identities in different times and ages, which are also himself.

Tr!PV's WORDS(in Korean) are so perfect, that he even manage to fool Smilk himself through making him think that HE has the upper hand. He even mentions it later when he was awakened. (I have to look for that part again.)

With his new awakened form making Smilk crash out for lying and being a traitor, and then he literally beats the shit out of Smilk 2-3 consecutive times because he's a stubborn child who doesn't want to. (Seeing fanart of PV hugging Smilk is so ??? to me. Smilk would rather DIE.)

DON'T GET ME STARTED WITH THIS. ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS DO NOT SHOW THIS LEVEL OF UNDERSTANDING IN HIS WORDS.

Smilk wanted to end it all!!! He doesn't need PV. He doesn't need the Soul Jam. HE WANTS TO DESTROY IT ALL. (Goofy ahh tantrum.)

Now the part about Shadow Milk and touching, and being "touch-starved." But people seem to forget he is a CONTROL FREAK. He's gonna have some tantrum if the narrative isn't in his control. Yes, he would love the sense of touching PV, as long as he leads. He NEEDS to be in control. He NEEDS to be in the spot light or else he'll be weak and he doesn't want to be seen weak. Like, he's already accustomed to being starved of touch. And receiving it makes him feel sick. >> I answered an ask here.

And about ShadowVanilla; I keep seeing the joke "friendzone" and then seeing Smilk be disappointed which is... something... Like... The kind "relationship" Smilk made for them wasn't getting married, (but they are Metaphorically as Narrative Foils) it was FORCED through TORTURE because THAT'S ALL HE KNEW HOW TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP. He wanted to share a soul with PV because it was his fear of being alone that he rather drown himself than face that Truth, and that was the ONLY TIME Smilk made himself vulnerable. Do you think he had a choice when the Witches created him with the other Virtues? They immediately had sentience with no young adult stage to meet naturally like how the Ancients slowly melded into a friend group, and they had no kingdoms to attend to back then. And the Virtues need to work together while being entrusted with a bunch of cookies, which for them is equivalent to taking care of ants.

And that being said, with the consideration Smilk is a literal cookie god who never felt a touch of another cookie in millennium, being invited into a friendship (with another cookie who he was not baked with in the dawn of time) is the most intimate shit he's going to get. He may Know everything(LITERAL NERD OVER HERE), but he never had Any EXPERIENCE. As slutty as he looks and acts, he is one. VIRGIN. LOSER. (TO ME!!)

To end this rant. Control Freak character weakness: Getting dicked down by some guy with a kind heart(who is unexpectedly freakier than Control Freak).

#IM NOT DONE YET #IM STILL DOING THE DISHES. FUCJKHDJAHDKABDKAJ #now im not doing the dishes im just scraping for more pure vanilla lore #Anyway #dont get me wrong. I LOVE mmilkweed's shadowvanilla. like yeeesss pv is a sex freak and i LOVE it #suggestive #yeag #crk analysis #shadowvanilla #pureshadow #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #chess' analysis

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artfulacrostic · 11 days ago

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okay so matt's entire treatment of and then defense of hector after their witness turns on them is based on his own personal experiences. he's (imo) super wrong to out hector's identity to everyone and their mother without even giving him the courtesy of discussing it with him first, but do you know why he does it? it's because he thinks that not only will it win them the case if he can spin it in hector's defense, but ALSO because he thinks that being outed to the public will force hector to stop being white tiger.

his thought process goes like this: if he, matt, had been somehow forced to stop being daredevil, maybe if he'd given it up post s3 or even sooner, then maybe the people in his life that he lost because of their connection to him and therefore his vigilante identity would still be alive. (father lantom, foggy, etc.) therefore he assumes that even though hector doesn't want to be outed, this will be the net good in the end, as it will 1) keep hector out of prison/get him off murder charges, 2) get him off the street as a vigilante before the people in his life are negatively impacted even more than they have been already, 3) allow him to find a different way to do good without the outlet of vigilante violence (which we know is to matt a self-destructive behavior, though it doesn't necessarily seem that way for hector). it's giving "i know better than you what's best for you" which is SO catholic of him. i can say this as someone who grew up roman catholic trust me i'm correct.

HOWEVER. matt can't convince hector to stop, the same way foggy couldn't convince him to stop, and his assumption that being unmasked will force hector into retirement is also what signs his death warrant, since matt inadvertently put white tiger on fisk's radar as a vigilante that matt appears to be enabling (thus breaking their agreement in fisk's mind.)

on to the defense matt uses in his closing argument.

this entire section is matt asserting through the parallel of hector's life that his own decisions regarding his vigilantism are right. first, that his choice to go out as daredevil was made from a place of good intentions, and that he did accomplish good things. second, that his choice to hang up the mask was not a choice that meant he was abandoning his cause or the people he fought to help, but rather that he was doing it in a different way. the way foggy wanted him to.

by being forced to justify his own position, matt is also placed in the position where he has to acknowledge himself as a hero, even just internally, because he has to believe the argument he's making about hector, and that means for the first time, maybe he believes it just a little about himself. after all, he doesn't like being called a hero, he disagreed with that idea actively throughout s1-3, where the idea of who a "hero" is had a lot of discussion.

the only person who really knows both matt and daredevil and ever calls him a hero and means it is foggy, who does it twice. most telling: the first time is when they meet, and foggy says he was a hero for saving that old guy as a kid. matt is a hero for doing something years before he even conceived of becoming a masked vigilante. he doesn't need a mask to be a hero, foggy just acknowledges it straight up. the second time is after season 1, sometime in s2 when foggy tells him to go be a hero, just don't get killed doing it. this is an acknowledgment of the good he can do, but even here the mask comes with a caveat: it might get him killed. foggy knows that to do heroic things, it requires matt to put himself in danger.

all the other times people call him a hero, they only know his vigilante identity, not matt himself. and most people don't label him that way anyway; it's usually the term "vigilante"; people rarely throw the h word around. when they do, it's usually not both a) in reference to him and b) positive/sincere. frank rejects the idea that matt is a hero just because he doesn't kill people. karen decides that the real heroes are the everyday people surviving in society despite everything. maggie makes fun of him for moping in the basement like a brooding hero. and even foggy isn't afraid to call matt out for his complex when he thinks he ISNT being heroic, but not once does matt agree with anyone who labels him a hero.

but now, he's forced to face that his argument hinges on hector ayala, a vigilante, being a hero. putting himself in harms way over and over again, just because "it's the right thing to do".

just like matt did. and if hector is a hero, then despite it going against everything matt believes about himself, then there is some part of him that is a hero too. mask off and everything. a hero, still.

so while i think the parallels matt has drawn between himself and hector are not completely fair, i do think that it's a fascinating way to make him study his own beliefs about himself, and for us as the audience to get a glimpse into his internal process at the moment, when we lack any of our usual clearest conduits to how matt is feeling or thinking at any given time (his confessions to father lantom, his discussions with foggy, karen, even claire, etc). without them to serve as the interrogation device to give the audience access to his thoughts, the writers instead use hector as a mirror and make matt hold it up to himself and reveal things through his actions.

#daredevil born again #daredevil born again spoilers #daredevil spoilers #daredevil #daredevil born again meta #matt murdock #hector ayala #white tiger #foggy nelson #something something matt seeing a little piece of what foggy was the only one capable of seeing in him #help i'm crashing out about this #r speaks

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airandyeah · 22 days ago

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Animals (Alpha!Sukuna X Alpha!Toji X Omega!Reader) Pt.3

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Warnings: Obvious A/B/O dynamics, suggestive comments or actions, just generally Minors DNI-just in case. This will be similar to Pink Pony Club and Sins, where I just mark every chapter as 18+ This also has the general warning of Toji and Sukuna both honestly being menaces.

The store was small—just a handful of aisles, stocked with the essentials, but clean and well-kept. The kind of place where everyone probably knew each other’s business, which meant you were already regretting coming here with them.

You had barely grabbed a basket when a sweet-looking old woman shuffled up beside you, her warm eyes crinkling as she peered up at you.

“Oh my, you must be new in town,” she said, voice kind and familiar. “And here I thought these two hooligans didn’t like sharing their space.”

You opened your mouth to correct whatever assumption she was making, but before you could, Toji slung an arm around your shoulders, grinning.

“What can I say, ma’am?” he drawled, tone smug. “She’s special.”

Your entire body tensed. “I—”

“Oh, she’s more than special,” Sukuna added, stepping up on your other side. “She’s ours.”

Your jaw dropped.

The old lady beamed. “Oh, well, isn’t that just wonderful?” She patted your arm, eyes twinkling. “These two may look like trouble, dear, but they’re good boys at heart. You keep ‘em in line now, you hear?”

You made a strangled sound, desperately shoving Toji’s arm off you. “I—we—that’s not—”

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Toji teased, giving you a wink. “No need to be modest in front of sweet Mrs. Takada.”

“Modest!?” you hissed. “You two—you—”

Sukuna leaned down, voice dripping with amusement. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

You swore you were going to kill them.

Mrs. Takada just chuckled. “Oh, young love. You three have a wonderful day now.”

She shuffled off, leaving you fuming in the middle of the store.

Slowly, you turned to face them. “You two are the worst.”

Toji grinned. “Nah, you just make it too easy.”

Sukuna smirked. “Come on, Omega. Let’s get your groceries before people start asking when the wedding is.”

You hated them.

The basket wasn’t that heavy. You could handle it just fine. But apparently, Toji had other ideas.

One second, you were shifting the weight in your grip, and the next, it was gone—plucked effortlessly from your hands as Toji slung it over his arm like it weighed nothing.

Your brows twitched. “Give it back.”

He raised a brow, smirking. “You’re struggling.”

“I was not.” You crossed your arms, glaring. “I can carry my own damn groceries.”

Sukuna snorted from beside you, casually tossing a bag of chips into the basket. “Yeah? And yet, here we are.”

You bristled. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Didn’t need to.” Toji adjusted the basket in his grip like he wasn’t even holding anything, then shot you a lazy grin. “It’s cute when you get all worked up, though.”

Your fists clenched at your sides. Alphas. Always acting like they needed to step in, like they had to take over. You were perfectly capable of handling yourself—you’d been doing it your whole life.

“Seriously, give it back,” you snapped.

“Nope.” Toji popped the p with infuriating ease.

You turned to Sukuna, fuming. “You gonna let him act like this?”

Sukuna smirked. “You think I’m any better?”

You let out a frustrated noise, snatching a can of soup off the shelf with a little more force than necessary. “You two are insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Toji chuckled, moving ahead of you toward the register. “Come on, stubborn. Let’s get you checked out before you throw a tantrum.”

You gritted your teeth, following after him.

If the whole basket fiasco hadn’t grated your nerves enough, Toji pulling out his wallet at the register nearly made you see red.

Your groceries—your food, that you picked out—rang up one by one, and before you could even reach for your own wallet, Toji had already handed over a couple of bills like it was nothing.

Your jaw clenched. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Paying,” he said casually, shoving his wallet back into his pocket.

You shot a glare at Sukuna, hoping for backup, but he just leaned on the counter, smirking. “What? Gonna cry about it?”

Your eye twitched. “I can buy my own damn groceries.”

Toji just grinned. “Yeah, but this is more fun.”

You hated him. You hated them both. Your hands balled into fists at your sides. “Give me your damn Venmo—”

“Don’t got one.�� He grabbed the bags, stepping back with zero shame.

You turned on Sukuna. “You, then—”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Mm… nah.”

You let out a sharp breath, trying to keep your temper in check. Alphas. Always thinking they had the right to take control, to step in uninvited. Like you couldn’t take care of yourself.

Toji slung one of the bags over his shoulder, then nudged you toward the door. “C’mon, stubborn. We’re taking you home.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His smirk was nothing but cocky.

You stormed out of the store, practically vibrating with frustration.

The worst part? You didn’t take the bags back from him. ~~~ The car ride back to your cabin was excruciating.

Toji and Sukuna had spent the whole drive making smug comments, throwing you amused glances, and generally basking in their absolute audacity. Every time you grumbled under your breath, they just seemed more entertained.

By the time they pulled up to your cabin, you were barely holding onto your patience.

The truck rumbled to a stop, and before either of them could say a word, you snatched the grocery bags from Toji’s grip and shoved the door open.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, tone as flat as possible. You stepped out, desperate for space—for a moment without their presence weighing down on you.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Sukuna called lazily.

You turned just in time to see the smug bastard leaning back in his seat, watching you with amusement. Toji, still behind the wheel, gave you a lazy two-fingered wave.

You bit back a growl, spinning on your heel and storming toward the cabin.

The sound of their truck lingering on the gravel sent a sharp pulse of irritation through you, but finally—finally—the engine rumbled back to life.

And then, blessedly, they were gone.

You exhaled slowly, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you.

Peace.

Finally, you could think. Finally, you could breathe without those two pressing in on you from all sides.

You set the groceries down with a little too much force, your mind racing despite yourself.

Because, no matter how much you wanted to ignore it—

Their scent still clung to you. Alphas. Alphas. FUCKING ALPHAS! You paced the length of your cabin, hands clenched at your sides, frustration bubbling under your skin.

It wasn’t fair.

Your body—your damn biology—was betraying you.

The lingering scent of them clung to your clothes, wrapped around you like a taunt. It was strong, invasive, and worse—your Omega instincts weren’t fighting it.

No, they liked it.

Your stomach twisted at the realization. Your body craved something you had no intention of giving in to.

You weren’t some weak-willed Omega, waiting around to be claimed. You had spent your whole life proving that you didn’t need an Alpha to take care of you. You were independent. You made your own choices.

And yet…

Your body didn’t seem to give a damn about your principles.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt as if you could shake off their scent by force. This is just instinct. It doesn’t mean anything.

Still, you hated the way your skin felt hot thinking about the way Toji’s muscles flexed pushing your car into the shop. The way Sukuna had smirked at you like he already knew what you were feeling before you did.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. No.

You weren’t going to be pulled in by them.

They could be as smug as they wanted. They could tease and push and act like they owned the damn town. But they didn't own you. ~~~ The truck rumbled down the dirt road, leaving behind a stubborn little Omega who had no idea what she was in for.

Sukuna leaned back in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest, lips curled into a knowing smirk. “She’s a tough one.”

Toji snorted, keeping his eyes on the road. “Stubborn as hell.”

Sukuna turned his head, watching the cabin disappear behind them. “You like that, don’t you?”

Toji’s grin was slow, deliberate. “Oh, love it.”

That little fire in you, the way you bristled every time they got too close—yeah, it was gonna be fun breaking that down.

“She’s already reacting to us,” Sukuna said, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

Toji hummed in agreement. “Doesn’t matter if she fights it. She’ll lose.”

And she would. Omega instincts didn’t lie. No matter how much you tried to shove them down, no matter how many glares you threw their way, your body was already betraying you. They could smell it. That sharp little spike of frustration, the way your scent wavered just slightly whenever they got close.

“You think she even realizes yet?” Sukuna mused.

Toji chuckled. “Nah. She’s too busy bein’ pissed off.”

Sukuna exhaled a laugh, his smirk deepening. “Good. I like a fight.”

Toji pulled into town, throwing his best friend a sidelong glance. “So? You in?”

Sukuna gave him a look like he was stupid. “Obviously.”

They didn’t need to talk about it much—hadn’t needed to for years. They worked in sync, had been since high school. If they wanted something, they went for it.

And you?

You were theirs. You just didn’t know it yet.

So they’d push. They’d chase. They’d win.

And by the time you realized you’d lost—

You’d never want to escape.

People had always assumed.

The way they moved together, the way they knew what the other was thinking without a single word—hell, the way they always stuck together.

Sukuna and Toji had heard the rumors for years.

But they had never been that way.

Sure, they had each other’s backs, knew each other better than anyone else, but it was never romantic. Never that kind of intimate.

But this? You?

That was different. They both wanted you.

And they weren’t going to fight over you—not when they knew how to share.

Sukuna chuckled darkly. “Cute how she thinks she’s got control.”

Toji’s grin widened. “Yeah. Real cute.”

They had all the time in the world to break you down.

To push you, tease you, drive you so far up the damn wall that by the time you realized what was happening, you’d already be theirs.

Like a toy between two hounds. One way or another, you were going to break.

And when you did? You’d never want to put yourself back together. ~~~ You stared at your phone for a good five minutes before finally caving.

You did not want to text them.

The very idea of willingly reaching out to those smug bastards made your skin prickle with irritation. But you needed your damn car back, and avoiding them forever wasn’t exactly an option.

With a sigh, you begrudgingly typed out the message:

You: Did you order the part yet?

You hit send, immediately regretting it.

Not even a minute later, your phone buzzed. You had changed their contacts to their actual names at this point.

Sukuna: Miss us already?

You groaned, flopping back on your couch. Of course that was his response.

Before you could ignore him, another text came through.

Toji: Yeah, it’s ordered. Gonna take a few days.

Simple. Direct. See? That wasn’t so hard. If only Sukuna could do the same instead of being insufferable.

But then, another text.

Sukuna: You should come keep us company while you wait.

Your grip tightened around your phone. You could practically see his cocky smirk.

You: Pass.

A moment of silence. Then—

Toji: You gotta leave the house at some point, sweetheart.

Your jaw clenched. Assholes. Both of them.

You tossed your phone onto the table, crossing your arms. No way in hell were you letting them get to you. You’d wait. You’d be patient.

You would not go running to them.

Even if the thought of their rough hands and sharp grins made your Omega instincts shiver in something dangerously close to anticipation.

You weren’t like other Omegas. You never had been.

Growing up in a house full of Alphas had made sure of that. Your mother was one—strong, sharp, a force of nature. Your brothers, every single one of them, followed in her footsteps. Loud. Overbearing. Built to dominate a room.

The only other Omega in the house had been your father, but most days, he barely felt like one. He had raised your brothers with a firm hand, standing his ground in a way that never once felt soft or yielding.

So where did that leave you? The answer had always been painfully clear—nowhere.

You never fit. Never wanted to fit.

While other Omegas dreamt of warmth and safety, of being cared for and protected, you wanted none of it. The very idea of submission made your skin crawl. You had fought your whole life to stand apart from the expectation that came with being an Omega—to prove you could be more.

Yet now, stuck in this tiny town, with two massive Alphas sniffing around you like you were something meant for them…

Your body was betraying you.

Your instincts. Your biology. That stupid ingrained part of you that curled in on itself whenever Toji or Sukuna so much as looked at you a certain way.

You hated it.

Hated them.

Hated the way you could still feel Toji’s warmth at your side when he had taken the grocery basket from you. Or how Sukuna’s voice sent something shivering down your spine, no matter how much you fought it.

You would not let them win.

You had fought too hard to be your own person—to be more than what nature decided for you.

And you would not let two cocky, insufferable Alphas be the ones to unravel it all.

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