#just to have it all feeling like it’s slipping through his fingers a few episodes later? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elllisaaa · 1 year ago

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how seventeen would confess to you - hhu vers.

-> pairing : svt hhu × gn!reader

-> words count : 2.9k words

-> genre : svt members crushing on you, fluff

-> warnings : while make you giggle and kick your feet

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | svt masterlist

hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - INTIMATE

cuddles, cuddles, cuddles !

once he tackled you on the couch or bed and you’re in his arms, you’re not getting up for at least an hour.

watching long shows together, and you’re forbidden from watching even one episode without him, or he’ll get so pouty.

big golden retriever energy, he’s always so smiley around you.

but also big on protecting you.

he’s the type to say “dress how you want, i can fight”, and he will definitely fight if needed.

always has an arm around you, making you feel safe in every situation

since both of you are friends since as far as you can remember, he’s like another member of your family.

i can literally picture your aunts asking you when you’re gonna marry him at every gathering lmao

with all of that, the line between friendly and romantic feelings is blurred, but cheol wished he had the courage to fully cross it.

however, everyone and their mothers knew about his big crush on you, and about yours on him.

his confession would be so domestic crying because i’m lonely.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to cross paths with Seungcheol late at night. Just like you, he often got thirsty and you always ended up staying in the kitchen until the early hours of morning, and being sleepy at the family gathering. And this time was not different. Well, it was, in fact, a bit different. You had been aboard for the past year and only got back to Korea a few weeks before, so both of you hadn’t really seen each other and you had a lot to catch up on about your lives.

“- And after that, this bitch didn’t even dare to look me in the eyes for the rest of the year ! Can you believe this ?

- I don’t like to judge people I don’t know, but she’s indeed a bitch.”

Both of you bursted out in laughter, and your heart felt warmer again. It was as if you were finally complete again. Being away from Seungcheol when he had been by your side for the majority of your life was the most difficult thing you ever had to do, and feeling him slip through your fingers as he started to respond less was horrible. He apologized so many times about how busy he was, and you knew it was not his fault, but still, you just wanted to be back home, back in his arms.

“- Yeah, she definitely is.”

You landed your head on his shoulder with a smile, and Seungcheol feared that you would hear how fast his heart was beating. He was happy for you when you announced to him that you had the opportunity to go aboard for your studies, and he was immensely proud of you. But at the same time, all he wanted to do was convince you to not go and keep you forever with him. But he was only your best friend, and he couldn’t ask you to give up on your dreams for him. But he wished he could be your boyfriend instead.

“- I have something to confess…”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him as you waited for his next words. Seungcheol eyes’ dived into yours, and he just knew. He knew that this was the right time, that the particular atmosphere surrounding the two of you would certainly never arise again. He had to do it now.

“- The day you left, I came to say goodbye at the airport, remember ?”

You nobbed. How could you not ? He had engulfed you in a big hug that made you want to stay, and left you with teary eyes as you got on your flight.

“- I never told you what I did after. I drove off to the park we always played at when we were kids, and I cried on the swings for maybe two hours because all I could think about was that you were not with me. And it felt so wrong.”

Your right hand found purchase on his cheek, forcing him to look down at you as he consciously avoided your eyes since he started to tell you his little story. But your soft smile was the only reassurance he needed.

“- It felt wrong being away from you too. I missed you so much Cheol…

- Me too…”

And just like that, you both leaned in at the same time, your lips meeting in between and suddenly, everything felt right again, as if it was where you were supposed to be - in each other arms.

“next time i’m squeezing myself in your luggage, i don’t want to spend another night without you in my arms.”

JEON WONWOO - SIMPLE

i don’t know how to explain it, but I’m sure you’ll get it when I say that this man is the definition of soft.

he’s so cozy, every one of his hugs feels like a warm cocoon (that’s why you always find an excuse to get a hug).

very good at giving advice, and a good listener, he’s always there when you need a shoulder to cry on.

you were friends with the other members at first, but slowly, you started to grow closer when he discovered how sweet and lovely you were.

the more he talked with you, the more he found himself hooked.

literally has heart eyes for you (everyone and their mothers know about his crush on you) and would drop everything if you need him.

of course, he’ll be more than happy if you agreed to play video games with him, it doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not

it’s even better if you never played, he’ll have an excuse to make you sit on his lap while he teaches you how to use the controller.

but in the end, he’s a simple guy, and he doesn’t see the point of hiding his crush for too long, but he also wants his confession to be meaningful.

The boys had organized a big party for your birthday this year, and surprisingly, they succeeded at keeping it a secret until tonight. And the past months spent trying to perfect every little detail was worth it when they saw the big smile on your face and your teary eyes when you recognized your friends and family as you walked through the room.

And even if Wonwoo couldn’t be more happy than seeing you wander around, laughing and smiling non-stop, he felt a weight on his heart. He wanted to steal you away from all these people, have you all for himself and finally tell you how he felt about you, finally tell you how glad he was to have you in his life. But he couldn’t, and he would never do that. He was just waiting patiently for your eyes to meet in the crowd, and for you to smile brightly at him. Every time you did that, his heart beat faster.

“- Finally ! I’m so happy that everyone came, but I’m exhausted !

- I can imagine, you’ve been running around the whole night.”

You sighed dramatically as you seated yourself on the couch next to Wonwoo, resting your head on his shoulder. Like a habit, he put his arms around you, bringing you closer to him, just because you were so comfortable around each other that everyone else thought you were already dating.

“- It’s the best surprise of my life. You guys are my favorites. Thank you for doing this for me.

- You deserved it, that and all the presents we prepared for you.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him with a sparkle of curiosity in your eyes.

“- And what’s yours Wonwoo ?”

He had planned to do it later, when everyone would have left, when he’ll have a moment alone with you. But if this wasn’t a sign that he had to do it now, he didn’t know what it was.

“- It’s not something material. It’s more… Spiritual I’ll say.

- It’s intriguing, tell me what it is.

- My heart. I’m offering you my heart, because you already have it, you did for a long time now, and I wanted to let you know, just in case you were feeling the same about me.”

Wonwoo knew how emotional you could get, but he didn’t expect you to cry from his confession. Still, he wiped your tears away, waiting for you to calm down with a soft smile on his face.

“- I feel the same, I’ve been feeling the same for so long. You have my heart too.”

“I’ll take care of it, I promise. I’ll always protect you.”

KIM MINGYU - JOYFUL

100% golden retriever energy

you would often tease him along with the members (because we all know that seventeen ultimate goal is to make fun of mingyu)

partner privilege : would not get as pouty as with his members, all it takes is a smile from you and you’re forgiven.

however, when you tease him about how being so muscular but so afraid of everything is a shame, he’ll be like a child throwing a tantrum.

pouting until you compliment him (and cannot stop blushing once you do, he’s so cute someone help me).

tries to impress you all the time by flexing his muscles, showing how strong he is.

he’s so obvious please, this boy cannot hide his love for you.

follows you everywhere like a lost puppy, just in case you need him (he’s adorable).

he feels so comfortable around you because beyond all the teasing, you’re very understanding and kind.

you’re always here to remind him how amazing he is every time he doubts himself.

and because he feels so comfortable around you, his confession would slip like it was the most natural thing ever.

Mingyu always had a tendency to show off his skills whenever you were in the same room as him. Yes, he felt an incredible ego boost when you complimented him about his muscles, but what he took real pride in was how much he was able to make you laugh. He always feared that his jokes were lame, or just not your type of humor, but every time he cracked one, you bursted into giggles. And by the way you were beaming, there was no way that you were faking it.

And he always managed to make you laugh in all types of situations, chuckling and resisting the urge of kicking his feet like a teenager everytime you hitted his shoulder playfully as you tried to contain your own giggles. Mingyu was addicted to the way your eyes were glowing with joy everytime you just smiled. However, he discovered that the easiest way to get you to laugh was to tell you all the stupid things his members did. Like now, as you were crying from how funny you found the story of Seungkwan volley ball.

“- He really only discovered it when he saw that video ?

- Yeah, really ! You should’ve seen the betrayal in his eyes, it was priceless !”

And you were laughing again, your head thrown back, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. But Mingyu wasn’t laughing anymore, too lost in his contemplation, because you were literally a work of art to him. Every single detail about you was perfect, the more he discovered, the more he wanted to be yours.

“- Your smile is so beautiful, gosh… I love you so much…”

The melody of your giggles died as soon as you registered the meaning of his words. Silence enveloped the both of you as you stared at him as if you were trying to enter his mind and find all the answers to your questions. And Mingyu was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut, and not embarrass himself further, already cursing himself in his head for being so careless.

“- Wha- What did you say ?”

Mingyu was too focused on his overthinking to notice the little grin spreading on your lips. Of course, you already knew that he had a crush on you. Of course, you had a crush on him too because who doesn’t ? And of course, it was very cute to watch him stumble over his words with red cheeks.

“- I-I said that you have a beautiful smile…

- And after that ?

- Don’t want to tell you.”

You giggled as you leaned in to peck his warm cheeks, restraining yourself from going in for his pouty lips too.

“- Well, just know that I love you so much too Gyu.”

“see, you heard it perfectly ! but i’ll tell you a hundred times if you want me to.”

CHWE HANSOL - BRIGHT

he’s so random, like one minute he could joke along with you and the other he’s asking you the most existential question possible, fully serious about it.

like we say vernon is just vernoning in the most vernon way possible.

he's very chill about pretty much everything so it's really soothing to be around him.

he's your go-to person when you want to isolate yourself from the rest of the world because you could spend evenings just watching tv and not saying a word to each other

there's also times where both of you end up talking about your lives until the early hours of the morning.

your relationship feels like it's all natural, there has never been an awkward state, only comfort.

it's like hansol had known you for years because he felt so at ease every time you were with him.

you made him feel like he was special and normal at the same time, and even if he doesn't show it often, he really appreciates it.

you two liked to stay inside so it was rare for you to go out somewhere, but it was always unexpected and when it happened.

hansol knew that you liked to be surprised, and often showed up on his days off to take you somewhere without telling you.

that's why you weren't shocked when he picked you up at 5 in the morning, on a random Sunday.

“- Can I at least choose the music ?

- Go on.”

Hansol handed you his phone which was connected to the speakers of his car, letting you put on whatever song you wanted. He owed you this with how early he forced you to get out of bed on one of your days off. But he really wanted to take you to this spot he loved. He played it off as one of his random wishes, but he planned this in his mind for a long time, not all the details, but he knew he wanted to bring you there to tell you how he felt.

He watched with a small smile on his lips as you opened the window, one of your favorite songs playing as you let the wind hit your face and make your hair fly all over your face. Hansol quickly focused on the road again, seeing that he was near your destination, he asked you to close your eyes.

“- Are we there ?

- Almost.”

The rest of the way was quiet, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. When you finally felt that Hansol had stopped the car, you heard him go out of the driver seat to get to your side and help you get out too, ordering you to keep your eyes closed. He pushed you to take some steps forward before he finally authorized you to see what was in front of you.

“- You took me to the ocean ?”

You didn’t even turn around to look at him, too entranced by the sight in front of you. And all Hansol could do was smile when he saw how parkly your eyes were.

“- I guess that I wanted you to see the sunset.”

You were rather speechless as Hansol got a blanket out of his car, leading you to the beach for you two to watch the sunrise on the horizon. He contemplated you as you ran around, touching the water to see if it was cold or not before finally sitting down beside him, your head finding his place on his shoulder, and his arms around yours.

“- Thank you for bringing me there… It’s beautiful…

- I wanted to make it special.”

Before you could even ask him what he was talking about, Hansol leaned in, his eyes fixed on your lips, and yours on his. Basking in the warm light of the sunset, he kissed you for the first time but certainly not the last, a smile spreading on his face as he rested his forehead against yours.

“i think i could get used to this.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @iraisswiftie

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peachsukii · 4 months ago

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✮ content. little thoughts related to this post. fem!reader. mentions of mental health struggles & blood/wound care. reader is a little mean to herself. angst w/ comfort + fluff. softie bakugo.

Lost in the nothingness inside your head, you don’t have time to react when the cup slips from your hands, crashing into the sink with a loud crack. It was an accident, but you can’t help thinking that the universe is out to get you, and somehow, that you deserved it. Your favorite mug laid in ceramic slices, shattered under the running water of the kitchen sink.

“The hell was that?” Bakugo calls from the living room while making his way to the kitchen. “Did ya—”

He stops, the look on your face sending a chill through him as you stared into the sink basin, eyes unfocused and hazy. Carefully, he approaches you and turns off the water.

“Sweets, you’re bleeding,” Bakugo says hurriedly, a hand coming to take the shard from your grasp. When did you even pick that up?

“Lemme clean you up, yeah?” It’s phrased as a question, but Bakugo won’t take no for an answer — it’s not in his vocabulary. He runs into the bathroom and back to the kitchen in the blink of an eye, first aid kit in hand. The tin bangs against the counter as he throws it open. He lets out a breath before taking your hand to examine it further.

“Doesn’t look like anythin’ is stuck in the cut. Here,” Bakugo pauses to turn the faucet on and pushes your hand under the icy stream of water. “S’gonna sting, but cold water helps numb it.”

“Might make me feel something,” you mumble monotonously. “Other than stupid for dropping the damn thing.”

“Hey.” Bakugo orders sternly, fingers instantly finding your chin to turn your gaze toward him. “None’a that. Shit happens, you didn’t break it on purpose.”

You roll your eyes at him when he lets go, unintentionally getting snippy at his words. “Sure, I’m constantly terrible at everything because shit happens. Can’t be that I’m a failure of a hero, or at everything lately.”

“Stop.” Bakugo’s hands tremble as he rummages through the first aid kit to find what he needs. He hates seeing you spiral, loathes hearing you talk so poorly about yourself during these episodes. “S’not your fa—”

“But it is my fault!” You don’t mean to interrupt him, but your emotions are getting the best of you in the moment, the pain begging to be released at any cost. “All this misery and pain is exhausting. I should’ve let the villains take—”

Bakugo unexpectedly slams the first aid kit closed and shuts you up instantly. You’re speechless, the sudden outburst shaking you out of your self pity party and shifting into concern for him.

“…Katsuki?” You ask sheepishly, knowing full well your words cut him deeper than any knife could.

“Please…stop.” He turns his back to you, a hand coming to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. The air is heavy, the only noise being the water trickling over your wound. All he wanted to do was take care of you, fix your physical wounds in order to help heal your emotional ones. "Not sayin' ya can't be upset, just...don't say shit like that."

He’s right, you know he’s right.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” Bakugo turns back toward you, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “Don’t wanna think about you not bein’ here is all.”

Before you can stop yourself, the question spills over your lips. “But Katsuki, why are you here?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, cycling past the urge to spit back something sarcastic or harsh to such a stupid question. You think for a moment that he’s considering leaving without a word, the hurt in his eyes evident from your negative attitude.

“Do I need a reason?” He tilts his head before lowering his eyes back to your hand, gently taking it in his and flipping your palm toward him, dabbing the excess water away from the open cut. “Y’know if I didn’t wanna be somewhere that I wouldn’t bother.”

“Yeah, but—”

He holds his free hand up to interrupt you. “M’here ‘cause I happen to love your ass and don’t like seein’ ya down. I won’t leave ya when you’re strugglin’, what kind of hero would I be then?”

You don’t mean to, but scoff at the mention of being a hero. “Always gotta be the hero.”

Bakugo stops to take a deep breath before invading your space, dropping the cloth from his hand and encasing you in a hug, his dry hand pushing your cheek against his chest. “Listen, sweetheart. Fight me all ya want, but as long as my heart is beating, m’gonna be here to take care of you. Sunshine or rainstorms, good and bad times. We figure it out together. I’ll keep drillin’ it into your head until you believe me, no matter how long it takes.”

There’s no point in arguing any further or being stubborn, Bakugo always knew how to win that race. A graceful surrender is your best option. He lets out a dry huff of victory at your silence, a tiny grin plastered on his face when he pulls away from you to return to the first aid kit.

“Now lemme wrap up your damn hand before you bleed all over my kitchen, then I’ll take ya to get a new mug. Deal?”

Your lips curl into a half-smile, suddenly feeling a little lighter than earlier, even if it’s just for a moment. “Deal.”

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #soft bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #☆.rei daydreams #☆.bkg dreamscapes

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callooopie · 7 months ago

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Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. Smut)

— NSFW edition—

It can’t be unlearned. I’ve known the warmth of your doorways — It Will Come Back // Hozier

I haven’t written NSFW in a bit ~3~. Bear with me while I try not to blush and cringe at my own writing T~T (also that new episode.. rip MY queen Rhaenys dude. It actually made me so bummed it ruined my night.) Also do I still use the Benjicot tags or is he now his own character now that he’s been mentioned finally ~3~ ?!

cw— NSFW, smut detailed to the best of my abilities. Minors do not interact. Interact with this and I’ll punch you so hard your ancestors will feel it I’ll-

< added one (1) new headcannon since posting >

Cool, calm, confident. That’s what Davos was. Surely it would translate to the bedroom too—it does not. He’s shy the first time around. Very much. Silent, rigid; his eyes simply darting up and down your body as you undress in front of him. The only sign that he’s there in the head is his hands gripping the comforter in his fists tightly. Before you begin, please give him a few kisses and reassuring smiles. Sitting in his lap and doing so does wonders. Run your fingers through his hair in a calming manner too.

You might have to pause, because he’s genuinely trembling out of excitement and anticipation that he cannot concentrate or continue without calming down. He just loves your touch! Any touch, all touch. Your fingers grazing against his skin, it’s like nicotine. Press your nose against his, laugh softly and kindly against his lips, and tell him it’s alright—you can wait a minute. His hands (shaking slightly still) will find their way to your hips soon enough.

Before you two experience each other more often. Before ANY sexual encounters, with you or not with you. He is the type of guy… to not know where the clit is. It’s a sad truth. You have to sit him down and literally point to where it is. No pants, sitting on the bed with your legs spread. It’s not even sexual at this point, you’re just letting him ooo and ahh at your pussy as you tell him what feels good and how to make it feel good. A lesson in anatomy that has him going (“…really?!”). Don’t worry. He gets with the program right away. When he figures shit out you won’t ever let him leave the house ever again.

If he’s already on the more experienced side and/or after you’ve both gotten comfortable with one another after months or a couple years; he is a fiend, a menace. He wants his sheets drenched by the time you’re both done. He wants you passed out, unconscious. If you aren’t being carted off to the emergency room after sex he feels he isn’t doing it right.

Speaking of.. He has sent you to the ER before. A bruised cervix that sent searing pain whenever you walked, burning aches in your muscles and bones from being bent or pulled around that. It’s something that’s never happened before and worried you enough to make Davos drive you to the urgent care. Embarrassment and a hint of disbelief burned on your face as the doctor awkwardly told you your diagnoses, splitting their gaze between you and Davos. The latter had the biggest grin on his face as he sat there like an innocent man. His apologies are a farce don’t believe it.

Needs you to sit on his face. Dude gets off on eating you like you’re his last meal, and makes it messy too.. Doesn’t matter when (or where..) but if you are not straddling his head, laying her full weight onto him—that’s basically like breaking his heart. He wants to die by your thighs that’s his goal. He is the type to grab and scratch at your thighs, squeezing flesh as he tries to pull you closer to his lips and tongue. Sometimes his hand leaves your thigh to deal with his own hardened cock—muffled and incoherent whines leaving him as he devours you sloppily and breathlessly. If he’s eating you out while you’re laying on your back; he will be pathetically grinding against the mattress.

Suck him off under his desk. Quietly slip underneath the wooden desk, he’s too focused on whatever he’s doing to even notice you undoing the string of his sweats anyways. Once he dies in-game and looks down he gets the memo, silently helping you slide them off of him as he talks to his team. Whatever you do, do not drag your tongue up from his base to his tip—especially when he’s comming to his teammates. He’ll be talking normally and then let out a nearly pornographic whine. If you choose to not be a menace off the bat and simply slide his cock in and out of your mouth; he’ll go blank in the head. He starts to mess up, mouth going slack as he splits his attention between the game and you on your knees between his legs with your tongue wrapping around his tip and licking off whatever leaking pre-cum you find. It’s the fastest he’s ever won (or lost) a game.

It’s edge or be edged in his world. Loves it when you tell him he can’t cum. A sloppy half-grin plastered on his face as you ride him. His hands holding your hips as he sits up, looking up at you from where he places his head by your chin. He’s gonna bitch and moan about it as usual, but slowly devolves into loud begging. His speech is slurred as his eyes stare up at you like your god who has the power to grant him that divine release he’s been denied for an hour.

He loves fucking you against the wall. It gives him a reason to show off his arms and muscles—and it feels good. If you have comments about your weight, your body, how will he hold you up, etc. Leave ‘em at the door, Davos does not care. He goes to the gym for this reason baby! To be able to lift you easily and hold you against the apartment wall as he pounds into you. His hands digging into the skin of where your thighs and ass meet. Wrap your legs around his waist, tangle your fingers into his hair. You’re not leaving until there’s a puddle of your arousal and cum underneath you.

Switch. He’s a switch. Let the world (and himself) believes he’s a top, only you will know the truth. And the truth is that he loves when you take control. Tie him up, slap him around, ride him till he’s crying and drooling from either edging or overstimulation—and then keep going some more. But also remember that he can easily overpower you, pinning you down to the bed or against a wall as he thrusts in and out of you with loud groans and words of praise. His hand holds your head down as he fucks you from behind, fingers grasping onto your hair as he rambles in a pleasured high. Davos is the type to tear underwear too, so be careful about that as well..

Davos is gentle, Davos is rough. No matter what, he’s mean about it. And he’s very vocal about it too. He’ll ask if you’re enjoying yourself, if you’re liking how rough he’s fucking your cunt right now—speaking of.. can you hear how wet you are right now, it’s almost embarrassing no? Ohhh, you like being used by him? Well.. he likes your sloppy pussy too—don’t worry. Made just for him, all for him. If he’s gentle he asks if you’re doing okay between the soft kisses he places on your neck and face. His face will nuzzle against your neck, soft whispers of how you feel entering your ear between groans. You’re just a sweetheart after all, aren’t you? So soft, so good, just for him. He likes how you feel around him, how soft your skin feels under his hands. So beautiful, so cute. Don’t you like how you can feel all of him as he thrusts into you slowly? Can you feel every vein and ridge? ‘Cause he can feel every squeeze and shudder from your walls darling.

Biter. I’ve got him pinned—Davos is a biter. Bites at your nipples before swirling a tongue around them and sucking harshly. Licks your ear before biting and tugging on it. He’s a bastard and bites your clit, a low chuckle coming from him as you yelp (he kisses it after, of course). Hickeys line your skin from your neck to your lower abdomen. Bite marks, prominent bite marks, are scattered across your body. No matter what, it’ll be on your neck mostly as well. From the front or the back, a bite mark will find its way to your neck. He just gets so into it! Dicking you down so roughly he just needs to latch his teeth onto your skin hard enough to draw blood. What? No he did not lick the droplet of blood up you must be imagining—

…car sex—I’m sorry I said it. At night when you both are skating or if he’s driving around with you. Sometimes you just end up in an empty parking lot.. the windows are fogged up and there’s music playing faintly, not that you care or really hear it as you listen to his moans. His hands holding your hips or waist as you slowly bounce on his cock while he sits in the driver seat. Bonus if you hold the thin necklace he wears between your teeth as you grind yourself down onto him.

Added! HE’S INTO SHOTGUNNING. Absolutely, how did I forget such a thing. Happens when you’re riding him. It’s a lazy night; him sitting in a chair, a cigarette between his fingers as you moan and whimper loudly. His other hand remains on your ass, guiding you up and down as he lets his head fall back briefly with a low grunt from his throat. He sits back up to take a drag from the cigarette, his other hand moving up from your ass to the back of your head (he gives you a parting slap to your butt). He presses your face closer to his and you instinctively part your lips, letting him blow smoke into it. He does talk you through that like he’s talking you through your orgasm, soft words of encouragement and guidance as he watches you blow it back out. It ends in him kissing you and wrapping one arm tightly around your waist as he starts to thrust up into you roughly. “In.. and out.. atta girl. There we are. Aren’t you just a good listener, my lovely lady?”

#davos blackwood #davos blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #modern!benjicot #modern!Davos #fancast!Benjicot #benjicot x reader #hotd smut #Davos x reader smut #Benjicot x reader smut #house of the dragon

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couch-potato28 · 30 days ago

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Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

VERSION I.

(a/n: Hey everybody, back with the continuation! 🙋‍♀️ as you can see from the title this is only the first version of my bllk manager 'story' meaning there's more to come ^^ The current plan is to write with multiple players a similar episode like the one below. So I hope you enjoy it!! ❤️)+if u see any grammatical errors let me know tyy

WARNING!-none

wc: 1.4 k words, so buckle up cause it's gonna be a looong ride again sry T_T

ALSO: requested tags ❤️-@ttheggrimrreaper @god-is-disappointed

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…1, Itoshi Rin.”

'Player number one, Itoshi Rin. Player number one, number one…number…'-the words rang in your head like a mantra as you tried to process the information over and over again.

“PLAYER NUMBER ONE?!”-you exclaimed once realisation hit you in the face. Perhaps, a little too loudly, earning yourself quite a few envious looks and surprised glances. Standing in the room for a few seconds, you didn’t move due to the shock of what just happened. You might have stayed like that forever, if one of the girls who were still waiting for their turn, hadn’t shouted at you.

“Yeah, we heard that the first time!”

Rude. You thought, before snapping back to reality and heading towards the door that had the ‘MANAGER’ label on in bold, black letters. Stepping into the room, to your surprise, was Anri waiting there, sitting at a desk with neatly arranged papers, folders, and all kinds of pens on it. Sensing your presence, she stood up, and when you got there, she extended her hand, saying “Congratulations” with a bright smile. You thanked her before she turned around, searching through a pile of booklets before stopping her finger on the one with your name written on the cover.

“Here. It’s kind of like a little guide, it will be very helpful for adjusting to your player. This thing contains your new routine and some useful information as well.”-she said, handing it to you.-“Good luck and welcome to Blue Lock!”

She then directed you to Team A’s soccer field, where the boys were currently training. Walking your way there, you felt your hands slowly starting to sweat, heart beating a little faster than normal, and the feeling of excitement from earlier coming back. After all…

Imagine being THE Itoshi Rin’s manager, who’s the best in Blue Lock with his jersey number confirming his position.

Itoshi Rin, with whom your first meeting couldn’t have gone worse. Who, after only 5 minutes, tells you with a straight face that:

“I don’t need a manager.”

Leaving you stunned at his plain attitude and bluntness. Seeing as you stare at him, without another word, he turns around and starts to walk away, which causes you to panic. Not knowing what to do in this case, you call out his name multiple times, hoping he stops. That doesn’t seem to work, so you decide to shout at him the first thing that comes to your mind.

“ARE YOU ITOSHI SAE’S BROTHER?”

The moment those words slipped out of your mouth an incredibly awkward silence fell over the room. Oh. My. God. This was probably the dumbest thing you could have said, but in your defense, it did make the boy stop in his tracks.

Catching up to him, you apologized, saying this was just a slip of the tongue. Rin looked unfazed, but the way his body tensed up told you that you probably touched a sensitive topic there. Before you could say anything again, he sighed and gave you a nasty stare, walking past your figure without sparing a second glance.

Great first impression.

——————

•Rin, who after that incident starts ignoring your presence. Whenever you hand him a water bottle or try to strike up a conversation, the only thing you get back is an uninterested look. Your apology the day before was also left on heard.

•Learning it through the hard way, but working with him meant keeping his brother’s business or any news or posts related to him out of your mouth. Even mentioning the famous soccer player’s name was forbidden territory, and although you never questioned his strange behaviour towards the older one, you do wonder what happened between them.

•Rin, who has a particularly strict routine that he follows without a break, doesn't expect you to be near him, but when the opposite happens with you sticking around, like an annoying fly 24/7, he wishes to find a way to somehow get rid of you.

•He doesn't know that you work your butt off though, spending your free time watching every single match he has previously played in as well as analysing and taking notes of his every move. From waking up earlier than the player himself to prepare his yoga mattress and drinks for the morning to staying up until midnight to help him collect the balls he shoots for late-night practices and cleaning up as soon as he finishes.

•However, it takes weeks until he finally talks to you, his first words being "Move over!" because you were standing in front of the weights he was gonna use. Over time though, even if it's just a short yes or no, a huff or an ugly look, but he starts to answer the many questions you ask every day out of concern or curiosity.

•Rin, who’s stoic and not a man of many words, silently starts to appreciate the way you have his daily routine and training engraved in your mind. You, who's always within arm’s length making sure he doesn’t overwork himself to death or forget his meals.

•You, who never knows when to shut up, sticking to his ass all day to confirm he’s alive and well, complaining or scolding him for being rude and unfriendly to his teammates, and showering him in compliments from time to time like:

•“You were amazing on the field earlier!” or “I’m jealous of your eyelashes!” and then there’s his favorite line that goes -“Isagi looked soooo shocked at your goal!” (it’s not a compliment, he thinks it is)

——————

•After weeks of working together, you’ve mastered the art of reading his microscopic facial expressions to know what he wants or thinks without him having to tell you directly. You’re busy, work schedule being fully packed, but still making time to accompany him in the evenings to rewatch and analyse his games before bed.

•However, sometimes too tired to stare at the screen, you end up falling asleep on his shoulder, making him complain to you the next day to quit drooling on his uniform and get a grip. He doesn’t want you to 'slack off' he says, but ultimately the underlying message is to take care of yourself.

•Rin, who works ten times harder during the preparation for the U20 match, training to face his brother on the field and making you constantly remind him to: “Get some rest” or “Relax, otherwise you will get injured before the real match!”-your words being ignored as usual.

———————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Rin’s popularity skyrockets following the victory of Blue Lock, yet he always manages to respond in a raw, unfiltered way at press conferences and interviews, that leave many reporters and paparazzi speechless.

•His newfound fans, on the other hand, adore his cold demeanor, and the comment sections are each time filled with either compliments about his plays or looks and never the ridiculously simple answers he gives to the media.

•Joining the team of PXG also makes the teal-eyed boy change in many ways, but surprisingly his attitude towards you somehow remains the same.

•Rin got 'new' teammates, a new coach/mentor, and new training routines. Everything is new. Better. Yet, he’s somewhat relieved that you're still his manager. The one who’s not afraid to call him out or nag at him. Knowing when to leave him alone at times. Letting him focus on his goals without getting in his way. Keeping him away from Shidou Ryusei outside the field as much as possible. Shoving down his throat the meals made according to his diet and making sure he sleeps exactly 7.5 hours.

•He hates to admit it, but you’re perfect…for being his manager of course. The only problem he finds is the way you make his heart move a little when you come to his games, supporting him with his jersey on, proudly wearing the name Itoshi Rin and number 10 across your back.

•Heck, these days he also can’t seem to ignore the way you stare at him for an unnecessary amount of time during his warm ups and stretches, the slight shade of pink covering your cheeks every time he runs to you after a match, covered in sweat asking for some water and his towel.

•He notices your flustered state when he bends down a little to hear you better, or the way he sits just a tad bit closer to you during your French tutoring. It’s distracting. Not only to you, but to him as well. Yet, he doesn’t mind nor does he do anything about it.

•Maybe in a few years, he thinks, if you'll still have some affection left for him, he could allow something other than just a strict, professional relationship between the two of you.

•However, currently, there’s no place on his priority list for you since soccer is his number one goal after all. He knows you understand that, that’s what he loves about you. Besides, you’re going to stay by his side for a long time, so what’s there to rush?

———————

(Gosh, my eyes gave up after rereading this for the third time 😭 hope you guys enjoyed it, let me know if u think this was a little too long and tyyy for the support ❤️ (★‿★)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x manager au #bllk x reader #bllk #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #isagi yoichi #bllk isagi #rin itoshi #itoshi brothers #blue lock u20 #rin x reader #bllk rin #blue lock rin #blue lock sae #reader x itoshi rin #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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darksigns-exe · 2 months ago

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sudden desire - noah sebastian x reader

warnings: handjob (m receiving), subby noah, a little angsty moment near the end

word count: 1.7k

note: a little birthday treat for my dear @deathblacksmoke <3

masterlist | taglist sign-up

You know he’s had a long day as soon as he walks into your apartment. He’s quiet, more so than usually, his shoulders are tense and there’s a persistent frown on his face.

You usher Noah under the shower, telling him to take his time, but that you’ll fix him something to eat in the meantime.

You’ve been friends for a few years now, and you like to think that you’re somewhat close. Noah frequently uses your place as an escape from band related things. When things get a little too much for him at home, he shows up at your place, and you gladly take him in. You know that you can rely on him just as much. No matter what time of day it is — if he’s in town, he’s coming to your rescue. Even if the dilemma is just a late night ice cream craving.

While Noah showers, you fix him a plate of left over lasagna. He tells you about the songs they’re more or less working on. Progress has been slow recently. Apparently, he and Jolly have butted heads over where to take the song, and you can tell that it’s getting to him.

Noah settles against you, while you catch up with the reality show that you’ve started a while ago. Over the course of the episode, he slowly slips further down, until he eventually ends up with his head in your lap. You know that he’d never outright ask for this. And still, he ends up in that spot.

As always, your fingers card through his hair and with every pass Noah seems to relax more and more. You let your fingers scrape against his scalp just enough and, to your surprise, he lets out a breathy little noise. You try to keep your movements steady, hoping that it’ll relax him further.

Noah shifts against you.

You glance down at him. His eyes are fixed on the television, but something tells you that he’s not paying attention to it.

So far, your friendship has never moved past the conventional rules of friendship, but something about the energy tonight makes you feel as if you might be able to push those rules a little.

Your free hand finds its way to his side, fingers tracing across the sliver of skin revealed by his ridden up t-shirt.

Noah draws in a sharp breath when your fingers make contact with his skin.

You feel him tense up under your hand, and you pause immediately, unsure if you’ve gone too far.

He looks up at you then, eyes blown so wide. There’s an unspoken question between you, but you can bring yourself to ask it out loud.

Instead, you carefully resume your touch and slowly let your fingers explore more of his skin.

Noah’s eyes flutter shut as he lets out a sigh.

“Is this okay?” You finally ask.

He drags his eyes open again.

Noah draws in a shaky breath as he gives you a barely there nod.

“Need a little help relaxing, huh?” You ask quietly.

The sound he lets out then shakes you to the core. In all the time that you’ve known Noah, you’ve never seen him like this.

“Please?”

You can’t possibly say no to him then, even if this is entirely uncharted territory. You trust that Noah will tell you when something is off.

Your hand continues to wander along his body. Noah eases back against you, his body becoming lax as you continue to play with his hair.

After a few more minutes of that, you dare to let your hand drift lower. Your fingers skim across his tummy, and you feel the muscles jump and twitch under your touch.

“Can you —” the words catch in his throat, as his breath hitches, “Would it be okay if you — I know we’ve never done this but — could get me off?”

You’ve never heard him sound so hesitant and — shy. You know that this could change things between you, but how are you supposed to say no to him? Noah doesn’t ask for affection, sometimes he just takes it, drapes himself over his friends like a fully grown Bernese mountain dog who still hasn’t realised that he’s not a puppy any more. But you can count the occasions on which he has asked for affection on one hand. And you won’t even need all five fingers.

You need a moment to gather yourself, before you finally give him a reply.

“I can do that.” His eyes light up a little at that, “What do you need?”

“Just your hand is okay.” His voice is so uncharacteristically quiet.

Seeing him so meek is entirely new to you. Not that Noah is usually loud and brash. But today his whole demeanour seems changed, and you really cannot explain what could have brought this on.

As slowly as you can manage, you work your hand behind the waistband of his sweats. He shifts when your fingers brush against the imprint of his cock on his underwear. You almost miss the little sound he makes. As your hand drifts across his length, you discover that he's quite a bit bigger than you thought he’d be. Not that you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how big your best friend's dick is.

You pull his underwear down just enough to let his cock slip free. The breathless little sound he makes worms its way into your brain.

To make things easier for yourself, you ease down his sweatpants too.

Noah shivers when your hand curls around him.

You set a slow rhythm, returning your attention to the show playing on the TV. You keep your movements steady. Between your hand in his hair and the one on his cock, you feel him relax against you quite quickly.

Noah’s staggered breaths fill your ears.

You glance down at him, finding him with his eyes wrought shut so tightly. His lips are pressed together, keeping himself silent. You’re determined to pull those pretty sounds from him, though.

Noah gasps when you start to stroke him with more intention. You can’t help but smile. Seeing him like this, entirely at your mercy, only makes you want to see how much further you can push him.

You shift your attention towards the head of his cock. Your teasing touch makes him shift and move against you. He looks so pretty writhing under your attention. His hips shift forward, trying to meet your touch.

You halt your movements, but his hips won’t stop. For a few moments, he continues thrusting into your hand. And when he finally notices that you aren’t moving any more, Noah lets out a quiet whine.

His eyes flicker upwards, finding your face.

“Why did you stop?” he asks, eyes so wide.

You drag your hand out of his hair and trace it across his cheek.

“You seemed to be so happy to get yourself off with my hand. Didn’t want to disrupt you.”

His cheeks tinge bright pink then.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Noah gives a near desperate nod, “Yes. Please.”

You start moving your hand along his length again. This time, his eyes stay fixed on yours. Your movements remain slow and teasing.

The little crease in his brow appears soon after that, but he’s still holding back. Your hand tightens on him, hoping that it’ll draw a proper sound out of him. You think that you’ve almost got him where you want him, but once again Noah’s lips clamp shut.

“You don’t have to be quiet, Noah.” you say, struggling to hide your amusement.

You slowly drag your hand back up along his cock.

He lets out a breathy whine when you tease the head with your thumb. His hips follow thee motion of your hand once again, but this time you don’t stop touching him.

Whatever had stopped Noah from letting you hear him before, seemed to be out of the way now. His pretty whines and moans fill your ears.

You decide to push your luck even further.

“Does that feel good, hm?”

Noah gives a frantic nod in return.

“Be good. Let me hear you.”

“So good.” the words are followed by another gasp.

By now, he’s reduced to pretty whines. Occasionally, you hear a mumbled please from him. You think that he has to be so very close to his climax now. Noah looks so beautifully blissed out.

“Please don’t stop.” Noah whines, looking up at you with tear stained eyes, “Please, I’m so close.”

The way he whines and begs for you truly messes with your head. You’ve never been in a position like this, and really you’ve never imagined yourself here either. But now that you’re here, watching him fall apart at your hands, you feel so very comfortable.

Noah spills his release across your hand a few short moments later. His body stiffens, growing taut as he rides out his high.

When Noah’s sounds eventually quiets down again, you remove your hand from his cock. You reach for the box of tissues on the side table to wipe his release from your skin. And when you look back down at him, you find Noah already looking at you.

He looks so soft and tired, exhausted in the best way possible.

You tuck him back into his underwear and sweats, before you trace a hand across his cheek.

“Feeling better?” you ask softly.

Noah gives a nod, “Thank you. I’m sorry that I kinda sprung this on you.”

“I said yes, didn’t I?” your fingers trail along his jaw, “I could have said no.”

You both fall quiet for a while after that.

Noah eventually breaks the silence again, asking if you’d mind if he stayed here tonight. Naturally, you say yes and a little while later, you’re both trying to get comfortable in your bed. You watch as Noah tosses and turns for a little while, before you decide that you’ve had enough. You shuffle closer to him and wrap your arm around his middle, keeping him close against your chest.

“Try to get some sleep.” you mumble, as he slowly eases into your embrace.

He’s still curled up in front of you when you wake up, and you can’t deny that it fills your heart with an odd kind of warmth. He trusts you so wholeheartedly. Your feelings towards Noah have always been friendly, but suddenly, you’re not so sure of that any more. For the sake of your friendship, you decide to push any of that towards the back of your mind.

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @thewrstinme @Follow-me-down-to-wonderland

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months ago

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It me again and this time imma come attacha with a Roy Kent request.

Between the Ditches; 14 And you are unforgettable I need to get you alone.

It just reads Roy. Many thanks!

Tagging: @kmc1989 @issieruby @sisinever @eryberry109 @thump31

Companion piece to:

A Perfect Night - Roy spends a completely perfect night with you.

Roy’s first night with you is unforgettable. It’s teasing fingertips that chase all over his body, it’s sinful kisses that leave him begging for more, it’s that first exhale when he enters you, your thighs tightening around his hips drawing him deeper.

It’s the most sensual experience of his fucking life.

It’s a couple hours later that he wakes up to find you putting on your dress. That’s the deal after all, neither of you are looking for anything serious. You travel too much and Roy, he just doesn’t have the emotional availability.

“I had a great time.” You tell him before you lean over the bed and kiss his mouth in that filthy way of yours. “Good luck with the match.”

It isn’t until he hears the front door click shut that he realises he didn’t even get your number.

You’re all he thinks about over the next few days. The way you felt underneath him as he hitched your thighs just that little bit higher, the taste of you on his lips, that sound you made as you climaxed against his mouth and then on his cock.

The next time he runs into you is a couple of weeks later at the BBC’s Children In Need Charity Event. You’re wearing a dress that looks like it’s been crafted right out of the night sky, and Roy wants to strip it from your shoulders, to guide it down your waist, until it’s in a pool at your feet. He can tell you want it too from the look you give him when your eyes finally meet.

It’s maddening how long it takes to get you alone. You’re constantly surrounded by people congratulating you about the latest episode of your podcast and Roy, he’s just itching to get his hands on you. It’s when you slip out to take a breather that you find him waiting for you in the hallway, those dark heated eyes of his drink you in and before you know it, your fingers are running through his unruly curls as he kisses you into oblivion.

You’ve never met a man who loves you the way that he does, passionate but tender, firm but intense. It’s intoxicating knowing just how much he needs you, you can feel him pressed right against you core as he pins you to the wall, his hips rutting up against you.

“Come home with me tonight, let me fuck you again.” He murmurs, his lips ghosting along the curve of your jaw.

“Say please.” You murmur and you can tell that does a little something for him because Roy Kent, he’s used to being in control and in this moment he wants so desperately to lose it.

“Please.” He whispers into the hollow of your throat. “Please let me get on my fucking knees and worship you the way you deserve.”

Love Roy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent imagine #ted lasso

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sassenach77yle · 3 months ago

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||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 7 EPISODE 08 || TURNING POINTS||

#83daysofoutlander☆

“A bargain’s a bargain,” I said, with a nod at the cup in his hand. “Drink it.”He lifted the cup and poked a long nose reluctantly over the rim, nostrils twitching at the sickly-sweet scent. He let the dark liquid touch the end of his tongue and made a face.“It will make me sick.”“It will make you sleep.”“It gives me terrible dreams.”“As long as you don’t chase rabbits in your sleep, it won’t matter,” I assured him. He laughed despite himself, but had one final try.“It tastes like the stuff ye scrape out of horses’ hooves.”“And when was the last time you licked a horse’s hoof?” I demanded, hands on my hips. I gave him a medium-intensity glare, suitable for the intimidation of petty bureaucrats and low-level army officials.He sighed.“Ye mean it, aye?”“I do.”“All right, then.” With a reproachful look of long-suffering resignation, he threw back his head and tossed the contents of the cup down in one gulp.A convulsive shudder racked him, and he made small choking noises.“I did say to sip it,” I observed mildly. “Vomit, and I’ll make you lick it up off the floor.”Given the scuffled dirt and trampled grass underfoot, this was plainly an idle threat, but he pressed his lips and eyes tight shut and lay back on the pillow, breathing heavily and swallowing convulsively every few seconds. I brought up a low stool and sat down by the camp bed to wait.“How do you feel?” I asked, a few minutes later.“Dizzy,” he replied. He cracked one eye open and viewed me through the narrow blue slit, then groaned and closed it. “As if I’m falling off a cliff. It’s a verra unpleasant sensation, Sassenach.”“Try to think of something else for a minute,” I suggested. “Something pleasant, to take your mind off it.”His brow furrowed for a moment, then relaxed.

“Stand up a moment, will ye?” he said. I obligingly stood, wondering what he wanted. He opened his eyes, reached out with his good hand, and took a firm grip of my buttock.“There,” he said. “That’s the best thing I can think of. Having a good hold on your arse always makes me feel steady.”I laughed and moved a few inches closer to him, so his forehead pressed against my thighs.“Well, it’s a portable remedy, at least.”He closed his eyes then and held on tight, breathing slowly and deeply. The harsh lines of pain and exhaustion in his face began to soften as the drug took effect.“Jamie,” I said softly, after a minute. “I’m sorry about it.”He opened his eyes, looked upward, and smiled, giving me a slight squeeze.“Aye, well,” he said. His pupils had begun to shrink; his eyes were sea-deep and fathomless, as though he looked into a great distance.“Tell me, Sassenach,” he said, a moment later. “If someone stood a man before ye and told ye that if ye were to cut off your finger, the man would live, and if ye did not, he would die—would ye do it?”“I don’t know,” I said, slightly startled. “If that was the choice, and no doubt about it, and he was a good man … yes, I suppose I would. I wouldn’t like it a bit, though,” I added practically, and his mouth curved in a smile.“No,” he said. His expression was growing soft and dreamy. “Did ye know,” he said after a moment, “a colonel came to see me, whilst ye were at work wi’ the wounded? Colonel Johnson; Micah Johnson, his name was.”“No; what did he say?”His grip on my bottom was beginning to slacken; I put my own hand over his, to hold it in place.“It was his company—in the fight. Part of Morgan’s, and the rest of the regiment just over the hill, in the path of the British. If the charge had gone through, they’d ha’ lost the company surely, he said, and God knows what might have become o’ the rest.” His soft Highland burr was growing broader, his eyes fixed on my skirt.“So you saved them,” I said gently. “How many men are there in a company?”“Fifty,” he said. “Though they wouldna all have been killed, I dinna suppose.” His hand slipped; he caught it and took a fresh grip, chuckling slightly. I could feel his breath through my skirt, warm on my thighs.“I was thinking it was like the Bible, aye?”“Yes?” I pressed his hand against the curve of my hip, keeping it in place.“That bit where Abraham is bargaining wi’ the Lord for the Cities of the Plain. ‘Wilt thou not destroy the city,’ ” he quoted, “ ‘for the sake of fifty just men?’ And then Abraham does Him down, a bit at a time, from fifty to forty, and then to thirty, and twenty and ten.”His eyes were half closed, and his voice peaceful and unconcerned.“I didna have time to inquire into the moral state of any o’ the men in that company. But ye’d think there might be ten just men among them—good men?”“I’m sure there are.” His hand was heavy, his arm gone nearly limp.“Or five. Or even one. One would be enough.”“I’m sure there’s one.”“The apple-faced laddie that helped ye wi’ the wounded—he’s one?”“Yes, he’s one.”He sighed deeply, his eyes nearly shut.“Tell him I dinna grudge him the finger, then,” he said.I held his good hand tightly for a minute. He was breathing slowly and deeply, his mouth gone slack in utter relaxation. I rolled him gently onto his back and laid the hand across his chest.

“Bloody man,” I whispered. “I knew you’d make me cry.”

62 ONE JUST MAN ~an echo in the bone

#outlander #the frasers #outlanderedit #outlander series #outlander starz #outlander fanart #jamie fraser #samheughan #jamie&claire #jamie and claire #outlander books #outlander book #claire fraser #dr claire randall #claire beauchamp #caitrionabalfe #outlander season 7 #outlander 7x08

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magicians-abode · 7 months ago

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Hi lovely! This is my first request to ever make!

If you would not mind, could you write a fic about Chillchuck Tims (from dungeon meshi) and a female half foot reader? Like in episode 17 when Falin wreak havoc in her new form and Chill drags Mickbell under Senshis pan to hide. But instead of Mickbell its the reader and perhaps something about trying to comfort and protect eachother in all those minutes that they cant see what is going on with the fight outside the dome? And because they have feelings for eachother and the reader knows about his stance towards no relationships in the group, so its a little akward to be stuck that close, but Chillchuck is also a little frantic because he thought he was gonna loose the reader in front of his eyes, if they got under the pan a few seconds too late

Thank you so much if it is possible ❤️

Hello lovely anon! I'm so sorry your request took so long for me to write, I had started it almost as soon as I saw it but then my inspiration just slipped away and just now was I able to finally finish writing it. I hope this is to your liking! Please forgive me for taking so long dear

"Safe in your arms"

[Chilchuck Tims x female!half-foot!reader]

Warnings: none - fluff - reader has female pronouns - a few swear words

That couldn't have been her, right? That couldn't be Falin, she'd never hurt a soul. What had happened? What had gone so wrong? She was a normal tall-man when Marcille managed to build her up again from her skeleton and some of the dragon blood... Wait. Dragon blood. Was Falin half dragon now?

(y/n) was too caught up looking up towards the beast that appeared to be Falin right now when she felt hands tug at her arms.— come on don't just stand there, we gotta hide!— Chilchuck's voice broke her from her trance, making her look around as everyone got ready for a fight and he dragged her far away from the scene. She looked at him, a panicked expression plastered on his face. It was understandable, if she had a mirror in front of her right now, she'd probably have the same look on her face.

Somehow, in the panic of the moment, Chilchuck had managed to lift up the pan that Senshi used to cook their meals in everytime and placed it over them like a dome as he layed back, hitting the debris of what was once part of the wall. Tugging (y/n) closer, Chilchuck wraps an arm around her waist and with the other, buries her head on the crook of his neck. They're both panting, not so much from the action of running to hide, but more so from the panic. They couldn't see what was going on outside, only being able to hear a few screams or grunts as Kabru's, Shuro's and Laios's party fought against what once was Falin.

(y/n) felt her body tremble and she held onto Chilchuck's shirt. His grip around her was tight, and it seemed like it would stay that way until he knew they were safe and could step outside from under the cooking pan.— Chilchuck...?— she was surprised when she heard her own voice shake as she spoke, and so was he.

The hand that he'd placed on her head began to run his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her.— It's okay, you don't have to be scared, we'll be safe here...— or so he hoped. He sounded determined, confident and okay, but deep inside, his heart was beating a mile an hour, and his head was filled with a million possible outcomes for the situation they were suddenly in.— Are you hurt? You should've reacted sooner! What if the chimera had stepped on you?! What if everyone accidentally kicked you around because you were in the way?! You could've gotten seriously hurt!— his tone was hushed, scared and anxious as it trembled with worry.

She lifted her head from his shoulder to try to look at him. The only light that came from outside where everyone was fighting, sneaked very subtly under the dome that shielded them, not really managing to illuminate too much. But it was probably for the best, because she knew that if he were able to see her face, she'd probably have at least a faint blush on her cheeks, and she didn't want that to happen. Only now she realized how... intimately Chilchuck held her against his own body. He was skinny, very skinny, and her arms instinctively moved to wrap around his torso, nuzzling closer towards him. Was it for comfort? Or was it because she wanted to bask in what would probably be the only chance she would have to be this close to the half-foot? He had always been so strict with all those "inner party relationship" rules of his, it wouldn't surprise her if after the situation outside died down, he'd just huff and pretend like he hadn't been worried about her in the slightest.

The noises outside grew louder and the earth shook as Falin climbed her way up a building and took flight to run away after getting hurt by almost everyone. Under the dome and in their own world, the two half-foot's hugged each other closely, not having a clue about what the hell was happening outside.— Shit, it's okay, it's okay...— Chilchuck whispered in her ear, not only to her but to himself as well.— I've got you, just stay with me (y/n), I'm not letting you get hurt— his reassurances made her heart pump faster than it already was, her feelings toward him only growing stronger. Was there a chance he felt the same? Or did his words sound awfully sweet and romantic because of their panic?

Chilchuck's mind was in turmoil. He was holding the woman he cared for deeply in his arms, and even if he felt afraid, he wanted nothing more than to protect her, to reassure her that everything would be okay and end soon enough even if he had no idea if that was true at all. Her arms were wrapped around his torso and her hands balled into fists as she held onto his clothes, her head nestled on the crook of his neck, their bodies huddled close together. The racket outside subsided, and after waiting for a minute or two just to be safe, Chilchuck finally moved the pan away from over them and he looked around to the disaster that had occurred while they hid.

(y/n) slowly looked around as well, and they soon stood up, dusting their clothes off from some of the debris they'd been laying on.— What... happened? God are they dead?— she mumbled to herself.

Chilchuck stepped closer again, and now held her face with both of his hands. He gently brushed away some dirt from her face and with a worried expression, began fussing over her.— You gave me a heart attack back there! Look at me, I can't believe what would've happened if I hadn't dragged you away! You–...— his brown eyes filled with tears and he looked away, trying not to cry— Dammit, do you understand how... awful it would've made me feel if I hadn't reached you in time?!— he wasn't yelling, he wasn't angry, he was scared, maybe frustrated as well, the shock of the moment still wearing off slowly.— Even if you get revived by Marcille or anyone else, I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt... much less seeing it happen right in front of my eyes and being uncapable of doing something about it...— Chilchuck pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her waist, now he was the one burying his head on the crook of her neck.

—I'm sorry, I was just frozen in place, I...— (y/n) could feel him shake as he held her, and she wrapped her arms around him as well, trying to provide some type of comfort for him too.— I'm glad you were there to save me, Chilchuck... you were so strong back there...— she whispered, and the male half-foot chuckled, it was almost funny how she made him want to break his own rules about love.

—Never, ever, scare me like that again— he pulled away slightly, looking into her eyes with tender frustration.

(y/n) smiled gently, running a hand through his now messed up hair— I promise you, my hero— she whispered back, and the tension seemed to finally evaporate from his whole body. They held each other closely for a while longer, relishing on each other's presence and feeling happy to be alive and okay after such a tormenting experience. The rest of the party could wait, he needed to make sure you would stay with him and be safe.

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #fanfic #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck #chilchuk tims

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mountsmase · 1 year ago

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a/n: Hi 🩷🫶🏻 this was originally just a little concept that I was working on as an extension to this, which is why it starts off a little shaky, but the words started flowing and it ended up being so much more 🤭it’s short but this is the first fic I’ve written in a couple months and also the first piece of smut I’ve ever written so I know that this is in no way amazing and it’s definitely not my best work but I still really hope you all enjoy it 😚 feedback is much appreciated as always xx

genre: Smut/A little bit of fluff

word count: 2.2k+

Enjoy 😚🩷

———————

Mornings Like This - MM7

so imagine…

You and Mase have been awake for a while but you’ve got the day off of work and he doesn’t have to be at Carrington until later in the day, so you’re just snuggled up in bed together having a lazy morning.

There’s rain pitter pattering against the window and an episode of the show you’ve been watching playing quietly on the tv, which neither of you are really paying attention to, too lost in each others company to really focus on anything else.

You’re laying next to him, head resting in the crook of his neck whilst he lies on his back, and his hands are everywhere.

It all starts out as innocent touches, his hand finding it’s way under the shirt that you slept in (his shirt to be exact), tracing random patterns over the soft skin of your lower back, his other resting at a respectable height on your thigh, which is draped over his hips.

But, all the innocence leaves the room when you start getting a little fidgety and begin peppering kisses over the exposed skin of his neck, finding his sweet spot easily and sucking on the sensitive skin there.

He’s still for a few moments, simply just enjoying the warmth of your lips against his skin before he begins inching his hand up your thigh slowly. His thumb rubs gentle, yet somehow still firm, circles into your skin as he pushes his hand up and under the hem of your (his) t-shirt, glad to find his path unobstructed as you didn’t put any pj shorts on before climbing into bed last night.

When you feel his fingers start to fiddle with the material of your panties you lift your head from his neck, briefly meeting his eyes just long enough for him to send you a soft smile before you lean in, your hand coming up to cup his jaw as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss.

He kisses you back instantly, keeping it soft to start, but eventually getting a little more impatient.

His hand slides around your hip and finds it’s way around to your bum, squeezing the soft flesh there which draws a gasp out of your lips. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, gliding it against yours as you kiss him back feverishly, body melting against his as he brings his free hand up and to the back of your neck, holding you to him.

You bring your hand away from his jaw, gliding it down his neck and over the bare skin of his chest, relishing in the way his stomach contracts slightly under the light touches of your finger tips. Then you move your thigh down a little, allowing you better access before bringing your hand down and running feather light touches along his length.

His boxers are the only barrier as you cup him gently through the material, feeling him hardening in your hand and the quiet moan he lets out against your mouth sends warmth flooding straight to where you need him.

You slide your hand under the waistband and wrap your fingers around his shaft, tugging gently and swiping your thumb over his tip, smearing the pre-cum that’s collected there.

“Stop bubba” he mumbles against your lips and you stop abruptly, worried you’ve done something wrong until he continues talking, “As much as I’d love for you to continue, I’d love it even more if I was inside of your right now”

“Your wish is my command” you whisper back and he lets out a little giggle before your removing your hand from him completely and resting it against the mattress, preparing to roll on-top and straddle him but he stops you before you have a chance.

His hand makes its way back to your thigh, squeezing gently before swiftly rolling you over so that he’s hovering above you.

Your messy bed hair fans out on the pillow around you and he swears he’s never seen anyone more beautiful than you in this moment. Your lips slightly swollen, eyes wide and full of lust as you stare back at him and skin glowing in the morning sun that’s seeping through the curtains.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous” his words have a flush spreading across your cheeks and you turn your head, attempting to bury your face into the pillow but he’s quick to stop you, his warm palm cupping your jaw and keeping his gaze locked on yours.

No matter how long you’ve been with him, you’ll never be used to how often he compliments you, it has butterflies swarming in your chest every time.

“Nuh-uh, none of that. No hiding.” He leans down, lips barely brushing against yours.

“Now, are you going to let me make you feel good, pretty girl, or are you going to leave me hanging?” He mutters against your lips and your left speechless at his words, instead opting to crash your lips back against his in a kiss that’s much more intense than the one you shared just minutes before.

Your tongues battle for dominance as one of your hands grips his shoulder, the other finding its way to the back of his head and tugging his hair slightly, pulling a groan from his lips.

One of his hands rests on the mattress beside your head, steadying himself as his free hand lands on your hip, caressing the bare skin of your stomach that’s been left on show after your shirt rode up, now sitting bunched bellow your boobs rather than reaching your mid thighs.

“Let’s get this off, baby” he murmurs and tugs at the material, you raise your self off the bed slightly so he can pull the material up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him before lowering you back down.

His lips don’t return to yours like you expect them to, instead, he’s kissing down the expanse of your neck and your instinctively tilting your head back to give him better access. Shivering at the feeling of his beard scratching lightly against your delicate skin.

He grazes his teeth over your soft spot, a breathy moan leaving your lips at the feeling of his teeth sinking into your sensitive skin. He sucks harshly before soothing the area with his tongue and you know he’s most likely left a mark but you can’t bring your self to care as his lips continue their journey down to your chest.

His tongue traces down your collar bones and the valley of your breasts before heading to one side. He suctions his lips around your nipple, tongue gliding over the peak whilst his hand shows the other side some attention, thumb rubbing soft circles over the neglected nipple and you can’t help but let out soft whimpers as he switches to the other side.

“Mase, baby, please” a breathy moan leaves your lips at the feeling of his mouth all over your body, your hips grinding up into his in an attempt to find yourself some relief.

“I know bub, going to make you feel so good, I promise” his head leaves your chest and he sits back between your legs, smiling down at you softly.

“Lift your hips for me bub” he taps his fingers against your hips and you do as he asks, he pulls your panties down your legs, throwing them in the same direction as your t-shirt before discarding his boxers too and then he’s laying back over you.

He runs the pads of his fingers over your bundle of nerves a few times, drawing a moan from you before dipping his fingers into your folds. He collects some of your wetness, spreading it over his length before making sure you’re comfortable enough.

“Ready, baby?” You give him a reassuring nod when you feel him lining himself up, his tip nudging slighting against your clit but he hesitates and you can’t help but whimper.

“I need your words baby” he asks, turning a little more serious for a second and your heart warms.

No matter how long you’ve been together, he always wants a verbal confirmation before taking this step with you and it’s something you have grown to appreciate so much.

“Yes Mase, I need to feel you, please” you beg, arching your body into him as your overcome with a sudden desperation to feel him inside of you.

And with that he moves his hips forward, inching his way into you slowly, giving you time to adjust to him as he eventually buries himself to the hilt and covers your body with his.

One of your hands instinctively tangles itself into his hair, and when he notices the other one gripping tightly at the bed sheets, he takes it in his, holding it up and above your head and interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good around me” he moans out, having to remind himself to take things slow when he feels your warmth starts fluttering around him.

He rests his forehead against yours, leaving soft kisses to your lips whilst giving you time to adjust, and when you give him the go ahead to move, your moans mix together as he pulls almost all the way out, before thrusting back in.

He keeps his pace slow, taking his time with you. The hand that’s not holding yours finds your thigh, pulling your leg up to rest over his hip as he thrusts deeply, the new angle allowing his tip to brush that spot that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck Mase,” you moan into his shoulder,

“That feel good baby?” he manages to get out, unable to keep his own moans in when he feels the way you’re clenching around him.

“So good Masey, you’re making me feel so good”

He feels his cheeks heat at the praise and he pulls his face from where it found home in your neck, his eyes meeting yours and your gaze is so full of love he swears his heart is going to explode.

Your eyes flutter closed, the view of him above you too much. The sight of his flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and his hair tousled from your fingers too overwhelming for you to keep them open.

“None of that, need you to look at me y/n” he rests his forehead against yours and you follow his request, meeting his intense gaze and you almost shy away from the eye contact again, but there’s something so captivating about his chocolate brown eyes that you can’t help but stare right back.

“I love you so fucking much” his says, voice raspy.

“I love you too” you echo, voice a little shaky from the pleasure running through your body.

Your fingers dig into the skin of his shoulder as he continues thrusting into you, nails scratching his skin slightly but he can’t bring himself to care as his lips claim yours in another searing kiss.

You’re moaning into each others mouths, breaths mixing together as picks up his pace slightly, feeling like he’s in heaven as your plush walls continue to contract around him.

Your hand moves from his shoulder and takes his free one, guiding it down to where your bodies meet and doesn’t need to ask to know what you want, his thumb flicking over your clit as your hips start thrusting up in time with his.

“Mase, I’m so close, I wanna cum with you” you sob, squeezing your eyes closed as he buries himself inside of you, bottoming out completely before resuming his thrusts, his hips faltering slightly as he feels his own orgasm fast approaching.

He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he tucks his face into your neck, his moans against your ear sending you barrelling towards your release.

“I’m right there with you, I’ve got you bubs, let go for me,” his voice is husky and slightly mumbled into your neck, but his confirmation is all you need to go tumbling over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave.

The feeling of your walls fluttering and constricting around him is what sends him over the edge, his thrusts slowing completely as he reaches his own high, your bodies practically becoming one as he slumps on top of you.

You lay there for a few moments, basking in the feeling of your bodies against each other as you compose your selves, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal pace and your chests no longer heaving.

He pushes himself up, leaving a kiss to your forehead as he pulls out of you, a whine leaving your lips in protest at the empty feeling and his body no longer pressed against yours.

“Gotta get you cleaned up baby, stay here” he says, voice a little raspy as he climbs off the bed.

“Okay,” You say tiredly, letting him disappear into the ensuite bathroom and he returns not even a few minuets later, fresh pair of boxers on and wash cloth in his hand as he leans over you.

He swipes the warm cloth through your folds and you wince slightly at the feeling, but he’s quick in cleaning you up, stroking the material over your thighs and stomach before discarding it into the laundry bin along with your panties and shirt from earlier.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he returns to the bed, helping to change into a fresh pair of panties and yet another one of his shirts before you quickly run into the bathroom to pee.

He’s back in bed when you return, the show that you were watching earlier rerun back to the start of the episode so you can catch up on what you missed whilst you were…you know.

You climb under the covers and snuggle into his side, getting comfy again as he wraps his arms around you.

“You okay, bubs?” He murmurs, keeping his voice low as he adjusts so he can hold you better.

“More than okay” you assure him, voice soft as you leave a kiss to his cheek and settle into him, tiredness taking over you, and you’re so ready to spend the rest of the morning with him, napping and being as lazy as can be until he eventually has to get up and leave for training.

———————

hope you enjoyed 🩷 thank you for reading 🫶🏻

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason concepts #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount fic #mason mount blurb

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thebuddiearchives · 4 months ago

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BUDDIE FIC RECS ✴ HOSTAGE SITUATION ✴ VOL. 1

Fic recs centered around season 5 episode 6, Brawl in Cell Block 9-1-1.

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all this time i didn't know(you were breaking down) by BooyahFordhamYacht Oneshot || Teen || 3873

buck does not handle the prison riots well at all. eddie gets really mad and then really worried, in that order.

alt;

Eddie thinks it started with the ambulance, or the gun.

But then Nolan’s mom comes out, and Nolan’s going to be okay, and Eddie can breathe again, kind of, and all he can think is 'Christopher,' so he leaves. He walks out and tries to imagine that he and Buck are fine, and it doesn’t work, and he tries not to care about that.

It doesn’t work.

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caught up in the war inside by farfromthstars // @doeeyeseddie Oneshot || General || 2561

Buck shoots him a nervous look before focusing on the road again. “You said you didn’t want a ready-made family. I didn’t wanna overstep.” For a few seconds, Eddie just stares at him before he blurts out, “I didn’t mean you.”

coda to 5x06, in which eddie strikes one thing off the list of Things He and Buck Don't Talk About

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follow me home (how could i ever leave without you?) by buckleyseddie // @buckleyseddie Oneshot || Teen || 6517

There’s a short silence and then, “I’m gonna go see mine,” Eddie says.

Buck tries not to let his face fall. Savanna’s son is okay, there’s no reason for them to stay here any longer so of course Eddie wants to head home to see his kid.

The thing is, Buck wants nothing more than to go with him.

He wants to keep Eddie in his line of sight and he wants to make sure Christopher’s okay, but he can’t bring himself to call out to Eddie, to ask him if it would be okay if Buck came over today. He doesn’t want to impose, but he also really doesn’t want to go home alone.

Maybe if he lingers long enough Athena and Bobby will invite him over, maybe Ravi will let Buck buy him breakfast.

Before he can test that theory though, Eddie looks over his shoulder at him and asks, “you coming, Buck?” *** or in the aftermath of the hostage situation, Buck goes home with Eddie

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gathered up your things and slipped away (no time at all, i followed you) by zashizawa Oneshot || Not Rated || 1115

The gunshot goes off, and instantly, Buck is standing in the middle of the street with blood on his face, staining his clothes, in his mouth, everywhere.

(Or, post s05e06, Buck needs to see Eddie and Chris.)

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Half of my heart has always been yours by justhockey // @everything-i-am Oneshot || Not Rated || 2509

It felt like Buck’s soul got ripped in half when he heard that gunshot crack through the air. For the length of a heartbeat everything was frozen in one agonising, unbearable moment.

And then Buck was running - chest heaving and legs as heavy as lead - to get to Eddie.

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I don't feel it till it hurts by bigfootsmom // @bigfootsmom Oneshot || General || 5796

Where Buck is not as okay after being pistol-whipped as he appears and Eddie is not okay in general.

If Buck were here he would tell Eddie that everything is alright and Eddie wouldn’t believe him, but he would be able to pretend for a while.

Eddie wants to see Buck. But it feels like invading Buck’s space with Taylor to just drive over to the loft. Even though it’s what his heart aches to do, Eddie holds himself back. Buck is with his girlfriend. He doesn’t need Eddie showing up and fussing over him.

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I think that I should probably tell you this In case there is an accident by Pan_Cake_Cats // @dorkydiaz Multichapter || Teen || 2688

But he didn’t have to do that. Eddie is…..fine. And Chris doesn’t need him. So why are his fingers burning as they itch to type out a message to Eddie. What would he even say? The phone drops from his hands and clatters to the table as he resigns himself to the fact that he should sleep. He puts on the tv as soft background noise and just stares up at the ceiling for hours. But he can't help but feel guilty. Guilty that to feel calm, to feel right again, he needs to see Christopher. Who is not his son. Eventually he does fall into a restless sleep. He wakes in the late afternoon to the klinking of keys and Eddie’s warm voice cutting through the sterile stillness of the loft.

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if you don't know me by now by ColorMeParanoid // @color-me-paranoid Oneshot || Teen || 2699

They’d just returned from a call and were lounging around after lunch, taking advantage of a calm moment between calls while they still could when Ravi changed the channel and said, “Hey, Buck. Isn’t that your girlfriend?”

“I didn’t know she was covering the prison riot,” Eddie said and Buck found himself frowning.

“That’s because she’s not.” Or, at least, she wasn’t the last time he saw her.

“Are you sure about that?” Hen said, glowering at the TV. “Because it looks like she found herself a perfect story.”

Or, the one in which Taylor crosses the line and the inevitable breakup follows

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isn’t it just so pretty to think by spiritsontheroof Oneshot || General || 11232

Buck feels like his whole life is a waiting game now. Waiting for whatever is going on with Eddie to come to a head or work itself out, waiting for his sister to come home, waiting for being with Taylor to feel right. Sitting, waiting, wishing.

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Jump by goodiecornbread Oneshot || Teen || 4719

Buck is fine, okay?

It's just that, after Eddie almost dies again, he gets a little jumpy. That's all. He's fine.

–––

Buck dealing with some things after the ambulance jacking.

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a little less war torn by renecdote // @renecdote Oneshot || Teen || 5647

“I gotta be honest,” Eddie says quietly, “you’re not really reassuring me here, Buck.”

Buck bites his lip hard. He can’t tell the truth. He can’t. Christopher is here, and Eddie will probably leave, and then he’ll be alone again, again, again. Tears blur his eyes and he blinks quickly, trying to hold them at bay.

“Hey.” Hand on Buck’s shoulder now, squeezing just a little too tight. “I’m serious—do I need to take you to a hospital right now?”

Set right after 5x06 ends. In which Buck is all kinds of not okay but Eddie helps.

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Misplaced aggression by basicallyiwriteshit Multichapter || General || 7961

Eddie's been having a lot of feelings about how closely ingrained into his and Christopher's lives. His brain can't decide if that's good or bad, even though his heart's seemingly made the decision, and he snaps.

Evan knows he should take a step back. Let Eddie have time with his family, and quit being such a present part of his and Chris's day-to-day lives. He didn't expect Eddie to yell at him about it, though.

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nowhere we can go with nothing underneath by alasse Oneshot || Teen || 3401

Set immediately post 5.06. Taylor takes the bare bones of what Buck shared with her and starts digging, until she comes up with a pretty good guess at the truth of the riot and the transplant, which she wants to turn into a feature. The choice sets her on a collision path with Eddie—and with Buck.

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when the world crumbles (bring me home) by tawaifeddiediaz // @aashiqeddiediaz Oneshot || Teen || 2905

He regrets not following Eddie quick enough.

Or, the one where Buck and Eddie talk and cry it out

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Wish we could cut all ties with the morning light by Mellaithwen // @mellaithwen Oneshot || Teen || 2506

“You ever think that maybe I might be doing this for me too?” Eddie asks.

Buck looks a little broken at that, the way his face seems to almost collapse in on itself, and the breath he lets out is shaky and a little surprised. But it’s true. Eddie needs this. He needs to convince himself that he’s safe, that Buck’s safe, that Christopher’s safe. He needs the quiet ministrations to calm him down—he needs to slip into the familiar motions of giving care until his heart rate slows and finally the last of the adrenaline can ebb away.

He lets his thumb brush at Buck’s cheek, his hand still cradling his jaw. The moment seems to stretch and breathe and they stay there for a while, tethered by touch, until finally Buck gives a little nod of acceptance as he lets Eddie continue with his work. . While they wait for news at the hospital, Eddie tends to Buck's head wound.

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you showed up just in time by lecornergirl // @clusterbuck Oneshot || General || 1445

can i come over, typed out quickly and sent before he has time to overthink it. He wouldn’t even ask, not normally, but nothing about the past twenty-four hours has been normal.

Eddie texts back almost immediately. No.

Buck’s blood runs cold, horror settling like lead in his veins, and his heart feels like it’s trying to climb up his throat and leave his body as he tries to figure out what he could have done to piss Eddie off. Eddie had seemed fine in the hospital waiting room—if tired, as worn out and frayed as the rest of them, but—

A key turns in his door and Eddie walks in, Christopher in tow.

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#buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic recs #buddie fanfiction #buddie fics #thebuddiearchives #s5 #5x06 #hostage situation

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tadpolesonalgae · 11 months ago

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Can’t Bring Myself To Remember You

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: I’ve thought about it a little and I don’t think this adds anything to the story—it really just feels like a trashy filler episode.

word count: 4,173

-Part 14-

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It’s not an unusual occurrence for you to open a book near dusk then pull out of your mental wandering after dark, frequently falling so deep into immersion, so consistently dragged under by lonely curiosity that time itself seems to slip through your soft, tender fingers. A shadow twirls a lock of hair about, a gentle approach so you know he’s there.

Even when his steps don’t subconsciously take on that soundless whisper, it was too often you’d startle at the sound of his voice, almost strangely so, spun around looking slightly flustered. Azriel had always assumed it a side effect of being stolen from your home all that time ago, being thrown about in the ocean of your life, only now beginning to settle back into relative calm.

You turn now, meeting his soft hazel eyes, shadowed by lovely lashes and defined by a strong brow. A mouth that appears so soft your heart aches at the faintly curved edges, appearing so warm and inviting. The steady certainty about the way he moves, so calmly assured of each step, unrushed but quietly determined, driven forward relentlessly by his unfaltering loyalty, the dedication to helping those under his brother’s rule.

A smile pulls your mouth apart, surely gleaming in your eyes, warming your cheeks as you meet his gaze. “What a surprise to see you here,” you say, closing the book silently, balancing the thick and heavy edge on your hip, the leather of its wrapping weighing comfortably into your waist. “Looking for something?”

He smiles, pushing off from the bookcase he’d been leaning against, dark hair flopping over his brow, as soft as silk and looking as warm as fur. How lovely it would be to run your fingers through, gently playing with it like how you would do when you were younger, sat before an open fire in a wobbly line, crafting intricate patterns with your sisters.

“I’ve found it now,” he replies, amusement written clearly across his features, more open than usual, your pulse increasing. His eyes drop away from yours, landing on the book at your hip, nodding to it with a faint smile. “What have you gotten your hands on this time?”

You reciprocate the expression with a little more enthusiasm, almost beaming as you shift the volume to present the cover to him. “It was tucked near the back here,” you explain, eyes darting to the shelf you’d been stood before. “It looked a little forgotten so I had to move some of the others around to get to it. It’s a book on botany, and the different plants that can be found throughout the courts. It’s amazing how such a range can be contained to such a small land mass given the shift in climates.”

His eyes twinkle, and your heart flutters in response, smile broadening a little. “Were there many books in your first home, or did your curiosity come from seeing your father’s study?” He asks, watching you calmly, gaze skating over the beautifully crafted cover of the book appreciatively. “There weren’t as many as there are here, but there were a few I could get my hands on,” you answer honestly. “Elain and I used to flip through the pages to look at the illustrations when we were younger, though they were mostly done in ink so only black and white. Sometimes when we found ones with colour in—there were some wonderful ones. I mean, really so full of colour and shimmery paints they really looked from another world—but we would fold the corners over at the top to show to Feyre later. Then sometimes they’d have diagrams with names underneath that we didn’t yet know how to pronounce, so would fold the corners over at the bottom to ask Nesta later since our mother wouldn’t want to be disturbed. Then later because she wasn’t there.” You come to a stop, lips drawing themselves into a thin line.

“Do you miss her?” He asks quietly, those shadows of his rolling like mist from his back, weighing to the floor to cover the boards in an inky black fog. “I…it’s complicated,” you answer, head dipping as you pull the volume back to your torso, as if it will act as a shield against the complex emotions you have no idea how to articulate. “You have plenty of time to figure it out—should you wish to,” he says gently, and you peer up at him, heart fluttering at the warmth in his eyes. The faint softening at the edges of his wonderful mouth.

You remember to respond, dipping your head in a subdued nod. Tongue swiping over your lips. “Is your…I mean, your mother…?” He blinks those lovely hazel eyes, so filled with swirling colour, and you inwardly cringe, seeing how he shifts to stand more upright, posture more rigid. That sweet curve of his mouth replaced by a polite smile, one he probably knows he should give to keep anyone from feeling bad. “Alive, yes,” he answers, his tone not inviting anymore questions, without being clipped.

Lips pursing into an awkward line, your gaze drops down to the book, to your feet, nodding in confirmation. “I…I’m happy for you,” you say quietly, hoping it’s the right thing and she isn’t a terrible woman. Female. That would be quite awful, if she turned out to be.

Azriel hums lowly, and your throat rolls, toes curling a bit in your shoes. You inhale, managing to look in his vague direction, “how was your day?” It comes out much more muted than you had intended, heat spreading throughout your features as you again dip your head, felled with embarrassment. A moment of silence passes, and you feel like you might crumble into a heap of sand, simply disintegrate right then and there.

But, “good,” he answers, chuckling lowly.

Peeking up nervously, you can make out the slight twinkle in his eyes, the relaxed softness to his mouth, and relief washes through you, crushing and sweeping in its intensity. “Training’s going well,” he continues unprompted, and you perk up more, shifting on your feet, attempting to straighten out your shoulders. “It’s becoming a nice, well-rounded group. Nesta seems to be doing well, too. They all are.”

You manage a smile, drinking in every word, basking in the richness of his voice, imbued with a tinge of royal blue emotion. “Sounds like you’re having fun,” you say, trying to match the mirth of his intonation, how genuine it sounds. You don’t really succeed. “Between the strain of practice and learning, I think they do,” he answers, still smiling faintly, and you pause to take a moment to try and capture what’s different about his features when he’s smiling. The curve beneath his eyes, how his cheeks round a little, the way his lips stretch out and curve. Something about his ears raising a little higher, too.

“Have you ever considered joining?” He asks tentatively, and you freeze up.

“Training?” You manage, forcing down the splutter, cowering at the thought. His features level out, but his eyes remain amused as he nods. “No. I don’t think… It’s not for me,” you stumble through the answer, looking away. Then heat warms your cheeks, embarrassment heating across your chest, meeting his gaze. “Should I be?” You ask, quieter than before, stomach tensing as you pull the book closer to your front.

He shrugs, “only if you’d like to. You might find it enjoyable.”

You manage a tight smile, not knowing what to say without sounding rude, so choosing silence.

“Nesta…she has friends there,” Azriel says hesitantly, and you can feel his gaze on you. “They enjoy reading, too. Maybe it would be good for you to go. Exciting.”

“Really?” You ask, managing to meet his gaze, shifting on your feet as you grip the book tighter. “What sort of things—do you know?”

“I could find out,” he offers, the edges of his irises softer.

But you shake your head, “it’s fine. I’m— I’m happy. Where I am, I mean. As I am.” You dip your head slightly at the awkwardness. Should you be saying something like that with pride? There isn’t much to be proud of. Hardly anything you can say for yourself.

It’s a bit worthless, if you’re honest, to only have that to cling to.

“You are?” He asks, gently.

Your stomach drops through your toes, heart plummeting deeper than the depths of the ocean’s floor. Shifting on your feet. Even he can tell… But you nod, head dipping further as you peer at the ground, heart straining for some reason. “Besides, I love getting to read the things in here,” you manage, clutching the volume a little tighter. “And, I’m not sure Nesta…her friends would be interested in reading encyclopaedias.”

“You don’t know until you try,” he says quietly, matching your level of volume. “Wouldn’t it be nice having more people to talk to about the things you like?”

You shift again on your feet, readjusting your grip on the bound book. “Maybe? I guess…”

“So why not try?” He asks, able to hear the slight smile in his voice, and you want so desperately to look at him. “Just one lesson, or even a few minutes to see what it’s like. The first step is usually the hardest.”

“I don’t know…” you hedge, discomfort lodging itself in your throat; between your ribs. “What are you unsure about?” He asks, leaning up against the bookshelves. You shrug, not meeting his gaze. “I guess…I don’t see the point in it,” you answer reluctantly, quietly. Knowing he won’t like that response.

Sure enough, you can hear the frown in his voice, disapproval sharpening into something bladed, disappointment in your lack of enthusiasm. “You should still try,” he says gently, wings shifting at his back, refolding themselves. But you shake your head, more firmly this time, “I don’t want to intrude. That’s her space that she’s made. I don’t want to contaminate it.”

“You wouldn’t be contaminating it,” he sighs, arms folding casually over his broad chest, and you feel like he’s telling you off for something.

Slightly desperately, you aim to switch topic to something he’ll be willing to move on to. You don’t doubt he could keep you here if he wanted, simply returning to the original topic of conversation, so you have to be careful with your new selection.

“Have you asked Elain if she would join?” You ask, not meeting his gaze.

You feel his pause, heart beating a little harder in the hopes he’ll go along with it. The irony of you being the one to bring her up isn’t lost on you—after you’ve wanted a conversation free of her for some time now. So it’s just the two of you, even for one discussion.

“Elain?” He asks, bemusedly, and you nod. “Do you think she’d be interested?”

“You thought I might be. Why not her?” You reply, wincing at your tone. Shifting again on your feet. But instead of tense silence, he chuckles faintly. “I understand the two of you are sisters, but you’re very different from one another.”

Your eyes close briefly, allowing no more than a moment for the condemnation to sink through you.

You’re nothing like Elain, and he can see that clear as day.

So you smile faintly, trying to bring some life into it. “Just a thought.”

———

It had felt like being tossed to the grimy, half-rotten wooden boards of the old hut in there.

They hadn’t bothered with chains—you were human, what could you do against them?

Strange, magic, powerful creatures, hewn from nature herself. Like gazing upon perfect marble sculptures and wishing for their cold grace, sacrificing flesh and blood for stone-cold immortality.

It’s strange how distorting panic can be. How acutely aware of the smallest hairs rising on mostly bare legs, yet forgetting the faces of the fae who’d thrown you into the deep dark of the cell. Warm bodies pressing tight to one another in the dim light of the stone cell, trembling hands gripping one another, grown out nails inadvertently scraping. Shaky breaths misting in the damp, winter deep air.

Few words had been traded in the perpetual night, a cold, spindly hand passing meals into the room through some method of magic. It had been good. Cold and plain yet disgustingly pleasant.

The first time Feyre had returned from Prythian and eaten human food she had gagged, it was unforgettable seeing how she’d changed. Such a small moment with such vast implications. Having then sampled the food, likely the worst of the worst of their own pallet, you could understand the insufficiency.

It doesn’t matter now though. Not now you’re trapped, locked away from the light.

Unknown time passes, and you never hear them coming. Like the night you’d been removed, they come on silent feet, utterly predatory and entirely invincible.

He’d appeared then, sat on a throne constructed of what you think vaguely reminds you human remains—long, stretching bones bound together to be sat upon, forced to serve long after death, condemned to relentless work, never to be lain to rest. The King you’ve been warned about.

At your side Nesta stiffens, observing something you can’t, struggling to remain alert after the numbing darkness of the cell. The strange isolation that had been enforced upon you despite company.

Even to human senses, the smell of blood is apparent, stark and piercing in the barren throne room. Though everything is secondary to the dooming thrum of pressure coming from the dais. Even the lives around you fade into something lesser when confronted with the concentration of Everything before you—a culmination of everything that has ever happened and everything that ever will across the four-dimensional planes, universes stretching and thinned, brought together before the Cauldron that sits, hunched on the stone floor. Watching. Observing. Waiting.

Words jumble from the king’s mouth, but you doubt even Nesta is entirely listening, not with the white-knuckled grip she has on you and Elain, pulled taut together, bound tighter than you’ve ever been before, a refusal to release one another. Even as numbing pain sets in, you don’t try to escape, each of you understanding the aches of the grip are small safeties, reminders you still exist with one another.

Grey-blue eyes catch yours across the hall, wide and fearful as they gaze upon the three of you. The youngest, yet the strongest. The strongest of your sisters, yet maybe the weakest in the room beyond yourselves. The power imbalance so stark the world tilts a little, as if nodding its head sadly in agreement.

Awareness is dunked over you like taking an icy bath, coming to in time to hear the damning words that have your heart jittering in your chest. Lurching and fumbling with fear.

“Who is the youngest, over there?”

And like a moth drawn to flame, your terrified eyes lock with his, singled out as a knowing smile tilts the King’s lips. “You.”

It’s a new terror, you understand. Being noticed by a being so incomprehensibly greater. How to rationalise and understand the fear in the fleeting seconds that tick faster and faster with each blink of your eyes. How time falls flat, and eventually pulls apart as a guard’s hand rips you clean from your sisters, a snarl of rage only adding to the ringing buzz that glistens though your ears, feet fumbling numbly over the cobbles, cracked and jagged in places.

The world fades in and out of focus as ice prickles from beneath your skin, at once hot and at once freezing the skin from your flesh, so cold it will start peeling back at any second, shedding until you disintegrate onto the floor. You’re helpless as you’re pushed onto the dais, far too close to the prowling beast of the Cauldron to ever come away. Even if they released you, the understanding is clear to you it would not allow the escape.

Noises break through the lilting haze of your world, vision clearing enough to pick out the wide, hellish eyes of your oldest sister, the conflict of terror and undeniable rage that blazes away in full view, and you wonder how she can sustain it. How she can muster up an emotion so overpowering your attention is pulled away from the Cauldron. From the King, and Queens.

Her teeth gleam in a snarl directed to the male atop the throne, and you wish for even an ember to take root in your soul. The inadequacies of your own self rising to the surface like bodies buried in muddy land.

“Put her in.”

Every muscle strings taut in your body, jaw nearly breaking itself from pressure, nearly vomiting the food you’d been given from squeezing your stomach in, every part of your being inherently recoiling from the eerily calm pool of black water before you, so still it looks like glass, contained in metal that reeks of something that should not be touched. Even borne witness to.

You’re lofted into the air, unable to so much as kick, terror taking control of your body, feeling as though you’re freshly dead, held stiff by catatonic shock while breath still whispers from your lips. Screams are choked back by the tightness in your throat, lungs burning with cries that would surely curdle blood, piercing shrieks that might at least serve to deafen their keen hearing.

But their large, spindly hands release you, and you slide into the yawning mouth. Gaping, and grinning.

Ice-cold water shocks your system, and you sink like a stone into the liquid. Sinking. Sinking. Sinking.

Dropping through the barriers of the realm. Falling off the edge of the world.

You drop further than possible, and nightmares resurface. Of rivers that swell and break their banks, flooding wetlands and tearing livestock from their home in the torrents of the winter melt. Rain lashing down day after day, heart pounding in your chest, hoping the rising water will never reach the already shaky beams of your rotting hut. In those night terrors there’s no escaping the rising tides, the currents gripping your ankles as you’re snatched from your feet, dragged away and under, swallowed whole and torn from your family in the blink of an eye.

Liquid like mercury surrounds you whole, submerged in the quicksilver of the Cauldron’s contents, dredging up long forgotten memories as though your life is passing before your eyes. Laying on the floor of your father’s study, flipping through books on food, plants, fauna and flora. There had been one nightmarish creature that had always stuck with you, lurking in the depths of your mind no matter what comforts Elain had provided, nor the goofy drawings Feyre had done in attempts to reduce the terror, nor the reasoning that such a small creature whose home was the deepest, murkiest parts of the sea would ever be able to find you.

And yet the Cauldron seems to seek it out specifically, conjuring the memory of the slimy pale blue paint that had been used, the ink that sharpened razor like teeth, the small spot of white on the page that illuminated the fish’s grotesque features.

Like an angler fish, you can’t help but feel now, sunken so far below, sucked in a whirlpool to the bottom of the Cauldron, that its icy surface had been the light, the power rolling from its dark metal the warm glow, and you’d been thrown toward it.

Now past the shredding ring of teeth, cast into its stomach.

The inky water pushes at your lips, squirming at your squeezed-shut eyes, wriggling like icy maggots trying to crawl beneath your skin, to worm their way inside and infest. It seems impossible to hold them out—everything had come from the Cauldron, how were you supposed to barricade yourself against that which you’d been born of?

You pull as tight as you can, wrapping in on yourself as blood recoils from your extremities, all you can salvage of yourself pulling taut and compact, stitched closer than rock, squeezed denser than ice that’s had centuries to compress. Air has long since lost its value among your turned around preservation instincts. Air is a pathway in, and you fear its intrusion with a conviction that spears deeper than any fear of death.

But the Cauldron is a prime creator, second you suppose only to the Mother, and has no concern for time.

No matter how long you keep it out for, minutes, hours, days, years, time is endless and stretching, a new metric confined to the swirling depths of horror contained within its malice-imbued metal. No matter how long you keep yourself walled off, hibernating deep within the parts of yourself you hadn’t even known existed, it waits just outside, prowling, circling, slowly squeezing and constricting. Until like even ice, or rock, you’ll split open. Pressure so steep it could cleave universes.

Even after the walls you’ve hidden behind, the only things keeping out the idle swirl of pure, liquid power, it’s not enough. Everything will fall to time, eroded and grated down to dust beneath the relentless drip of ticking seconds.

Your mind feels too numb to register as it creeps in, cold and deadening as it spreads calmly throughout your blood, filling you up from the inside out, infusing into your skin—numbed from slumber. Creeping and contaminating with cold, needle slim fingers, rearranging and knitting pieces together than should not be joined within a mortal.

It holds you with a familiarity that’s at once startling and reassuring, a puppet returned to the puppeteer, a dress returned to the seamstress, a splintered leg returned to the carpenter. All of them at once, without the care of a mother for her child. Cold and analytical, examining its past creation, exploring its functions with harsh fingers. Peeling back your skin, then your flesh, then your skull, retrieving the centre of your thoughts to discover your foundations.

Wishes and desires, tucked away secrets even you’ve forgotten, passing thoughts unworthy of being voiced, wants that deserved to be spoken but tied down by your tongue. Its ladle scoops you out, hollowing your mind and stomach, dipping a spoon into soup to retrieve a mouthful, except this space will be replaced with something else. Something to push the bounds of humanity and transform you into the sharp-featured creatures who had taken what scraps of your world had remained.

Something with the tremendous strike of lightening but worse fills the empty pockets it’s made. Capable of burning like the blazing rage contained within quicksilver eyes. Something slower. More insidious. You aren’t made for brute force, so a more subtle route will have to be afforded.

Like it had selected the nightmarish memories, so does it haul up the secret wishes. The wants so desperate they have heat kicking back against the icy touch of the Cauldron’s waters. To blaze like Nesta, to protect like Feyre, to soothe like Elain. But more.

A use.

If not a warrior, then a blade to be harnessed.

The Cauldron plucks the desire from your bones, and your body slumps. Skin without its stuffing, a heart without its thump. You could swear you feel it smile as it finds what it’s looking for, now conjuring up its match. The piece to fill the void it’s created by removing the wish, replaced with something sturdier, to lift your body to immortality.

With each possibility the prices rise steeper, and yet you no longer recoil.

The craving to have something—something entirely new, something entirely your own taking control of your mind and soul, driving you forward. How deeply you yearn to be someone with possessions that are your own. Not passed down, nor borrowed or shared, but your own. Something only you can have.

The desire is so acute you feel salty wetness push out from beneath closed eyelids.

To be sought after. Craved. Pursued.

Valued, treasured, fought for.

To have something that made you become both desired and capable of protection.

The cost would always be irrelevant for an offer like that.

Down to your roots, clipped at the foundations, an entirely human desire to be wanted. At whatever price, the yearning so innate and so acute your heart aches within the cage of your ribs. It runs deeper than a want, or a wish, or a need. So inherent to your ideal that now you’ve discovered its existence, returning without it would be a new death with every second, every breath drawn taking you further apart from the moment your could’ve had it.

The Cauldron smiles, dangling it before you, quietly hiding away what it’s already taken, not giving you a chance to consider what you will lose.

And with a still human heart, your soft, trembling fingers pluck the glowing green star from the inky darkness. Fooled by inexperience.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

#cbmthy #cbmtry

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thelaughtercafe · 1 year ago

Text

Tension

Tea Type: Subtly Sweet Tea

Potential Triggers: Nothing comes to mind, but let me know if you think something should go here!

Pairing: Vax/F!Reader (Can be read as romantic or platonic!)

Length: 2.2k+

Summary: Vax's observant nature helps him discover you're hiding a few juicy secrets, and he helps encourage you to be more honest in the future.

A/N: So, new fandom, who dis? Yes, I'm now binging Critical Role Campaign 1, and completely whipped for Vax and Percy both. I'm up to the beginning of Episode 40, so no spoilers please but I have quite a few tword fic ideas. Also, I know Silence doesn't work in DND like this, but shhh fic liberties-

Vax was what many would call observant. Used to lingering in the shadows as he was, he found it almost comforting to look over his friends and family both if they lingered where he could see them. He sipped on his ale, watching as you chatted with Vex and Keyleth about something or other. Percy was tinkering with his machine’s as usual, paying the conversations around him no mind, and Scanlan had found himself a friend for the night. Grog had no such luck but he was no less happy to be enjoying ale by the mug full. Pike had also retired early, claiming tiredness and needing to work in a quiet environment unlike Percy. Vax himself was situated just by the bar, debating if teasing Percy or his sister would be more fun when he spotted something interesting.

You’d quirked up and seemed to be waving your hands in a sheepish refusal. He couldn’t hear it from here what about, and opted to drift closer, expertly maneuvering the crowds of dwarves before he leaned against the wall by the stairs.

“Really Grog, I appreciate the offer but it already feels better, I promise!”

“Do you doubt Grog’s masseuse skills?”

Vax felt a smile twitch at his lips, eyes narrowing perceptively as you refused again.

“Not at all! All the others rave about how great they are, I just genuinely don’t need one. It was just a spasm! Besides, Percy looks way more tense than I do, look at how the poor guy is hunched over!”

Grog lit up at that and grinned, whacking you on the shoulder cheerfully before moving to attend to Percy.

“Grog can help with that! Great idea!”

You let out a sigh the moment the goliath turned his back to you, after ensuring the others were occupied. Vex had gone with Keyleth to grab more drinks and they were talking to the bartender, and you didn’t spot him, all but melded into the shadow of the stairs as he was. He saw the way you rolled not one, but both of your shoulders and winced, fingers pressing into and attempting to release the tension stored there.

He smirked darkly.

You were a clever little thing, weren’t you? Redirecting Grog, lying so he wouldn’t worry, feigning. You had a secret and if there was one thing Vax enjoyed? It was finding out that which should not be known.

…and maybe punishing you, just a little, in the process for trying to pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t and being a naughty little liar. He'd warned you before, as had the others, it wasn't his fault you didn't listen. You had a nasty habit of trying to take on everyone else's burdens while denying your own.

He figured you’d be retreating to your room sooner rather than later and after a gentle tap and a whisper to Vex telling her not to wait up, he found himself surprised as his sister grabbed his wrist before he could slip away.

“Take care of her, will you? She’s been rubbing her shoulder anytime she thinks we’re not watching. If you hadn’t come over, I was going to press the issue. Shall I inform Pike?”

He cleared his throat in embarrassment, smiling sheepishly. Of course his sister had seen right through him, and you both.

“Aye. You know I will. I’ll tell her, depending on how bad it is.”

His eyes moved from her to where you were watching Percy try to escape Grog with fondness in your eyes.

“...I have a feeling there’s a reason she’s dodging Grog’s attempts. Something she’s flustered about, if I had to guess.”

A smirk tugged at his lips as his mischievous eyes returned to his sister’s.

“A shame, that. For her I mean.”

Vex’s look turned scolding.

“Try and go easy on her, brother.”

He shrugged, amusement flooding him.

“Depends how quickly she folds, I suppose. If she’s stubborn, even I can't help but have a limit to my patience, you know. Besides, she may even enjoy my methods of persuasion. You certainly did~”

A flash of teeth and he dodged her playful slap with a laugh as she blushed.

“Shut up, Vax! Honestly, I asked once, why can’t you just let it go?”

“Are you actually whining? Heh, does Percy know? Maybe I should-”

Vax couldn’t dodge fast enough this time as Vex tugged him down to hiss in his ear.

“Breathe a word and Trinket will have your head.”

“Alright, alright, you win! Always so violent to your dear brother aren’t you?”

He brushed off his clothes before looking back over towards you.

“Alright, I’m off. Wish me luck, hm? And be a dear and cast Silence for me, won’t you?”

Vex’ahlia sighed and with a moment of focus and a mumble it was done.

“Doing that for her, not you!”

Was called after but Vax waved her off.

Now all he had to do was hang out; he was sure you’d follow shortly.

------

You cracked your neck and barely stifled a wince as your shoulder seized again. You hadn’t injured it, but thanks to holding all of your tension in them, and your neck; you were really feeling the effects.

You felt bad redirecting Grog like that, but you’d seen the way Percy had grasped his shoulder too, and knew he wouldn’t crumple like you would. Lesser of two evils. He gave in eventually, and lucky for him, he probably wasn’t in pain anymore. It was early in the night, but you bid your remaining party goodnight and retired to your room. You jumped at the sight of Vax on your bed before relaxing, rolling your eyes.

“You could’ve asked and I would’ve just given you the key to my room you know.”

He shot a boyish grin your way.

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, it’s good practice for my fingers. Got to keep them loose and limber, you know.”

“Mmhmm.”

You brushed him off as you flitted about your room and got changed for the night behind the folding screen. It had been a pleasant surprise the inn had one as many didn’t.

You emerged in your nightgown and crossed your arms as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“So…what’s up? Did you need something?”

He pretended to be stabbed in overdramatic fashion.

“Oh, you wound me! Can’t I come check on my favorite party member without ulterior motives?”

“Sure, you can and have before. But you’re typically chatty, and occasionally tipsy. You seem barely buzzed and you’ve been oddly quiet for you in general, let alone if this was one of your typical calls. You can tell me if I’m wrong but…I don’t like that look in your eye.”

He smiled, and moved to sit up from where he’d been laying on your bed, tossing his dagger carelessly. He placed it on the bedside table. He was already changed, you noted. In black two piece pajamas, and you’d spotted his black robe behind the curtain. Was he planning on staying overnight? You didn’t mind, of course but again…this was too meticulous. He was planning something, you just weren’t sure what.

“What look might that be, darling?”

You hesitated and then swallowed, something giddy and nervous at once stirring in you as you felt heat in your cheeks and it made you look away.

“Anticipation. You look not unlike the cat who got the cream. You almost look…predatory, if I had to pick the right word.”

“How frightening~ It’s nothing so serious as all that! “

He moved to stand and you stood your ground as he approached you, finally returning your gaze to his hazel eyes.

“How’re your shoulders?”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and he felt the way you tensed, racking your brain for an excuse.

“Oh, you heard my conversation with Grog earlier, huh? Like I said, it was just a spasm. I’m fine now-”

His smile widened a tad and then he squeezed, with just the right amount of pressure to get the reaction he guessed at.

“For reheHEal!”

You tried to play it off as a cough, bending over and shoving at him to try to get him to release you. He did, backing up a step or two as he observed you.

“Sorry about that. Worst time to get a cough.”

You mustered an apologetic smile, shaky though it was and Vax let his eyes narrow.

“...Do you think I’m an idiot? You’re lying again? This is starting to become quite the habit. C’mon, lemme see.”

The expression you made was priceless but Vax kept his unamused expression as he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you over to the bed, gently sitting you down and then looking at you expectantly. Poor thing. You were clearly having an inner debate in your mind over what to do. Shame he wouldn't give you any more time. He motioned to the bed as he moved to stand.

“Well? Go on, lay down. Let me see how bad it is.”

“It’s really nothing Vax, I swear! Just drop it!”

“Oh right, because you jolting like a scared gob’ was so subtle. If there’s truly nothing wrong then let me see.”

Gods he was such an asshole. Why did your reactions have to be so damn entertaining? …Still, he was absolutely going to Hell for leading you on like this.

You reluctantly laid down face down and he situated himself at your hips, ensuring you weren’t in pain before continuing.

“Alright, now you better tell me if anything hurts. I’ll know if you lie again. Got it?”

You nodded and he couldn’t help his smirk now that you couldn't see him, though his voice kept that concerned, slightly hard edge as he dug into your shoulders at once.

You damn near about seized and your hand rushed to cover your mouth.

“Did that hurt?”

You shook your head and he growled.

“You must really think I’m blind or something! You can’t even talk!”

Oh, yeah. Definitely going to Hell.

Now that he was feeling your shoulders, though, it was obvious you had a lot of tension. No wonder you’d been rubbing them earlier. He let his thumbs do most of the work digging in and though he heard you squeak, now and again, every time he asked if you were in pain you denied. It was when his index and middle finger found a knot of tension on the cusp of your neck and shoulder that you finally broke, and tried to reach back to tap his leg, laughing.

“Fhuhuhuck Vax please! It doesn’t huhuhurt it-it thihihihihckles!!”

He giggled himself and stopped for a moment to crack his fingers before he answered, all casual nonchalance.

“About time you admitted it.”

You whimpered in embarrassment and he would bet money you were beyond grateful he couldn't see your expression as you hid your face in your pillow.

“You knew?! Why didn’t you say anything then!?”

“As payback. For lying, both to Grog and most especially, to me. Next time, tell the truth and I won’t have to be so…”

He spidered fingertips over your shoulders to hear you laugh before pulling back again.

“Willfully ignorant.”

You groaned.

“You’re the worst.”

“I hope you know I’ve just started. All joking aside, your shoulder and neck are wrecked, love. Ticklish or not, you’ll feel leagues better if I work these out.”

“You can’t!”

Your instant response gave him pause.

“What are you so worried about? Surely you must know I’d never judge you for something as paltry as being ticklish.”

“It’s…not that. Gods, Vax, I swear if you tell anyone else-”

You whirled to look at him and he met your eyes unflinchingly.

“I won’t. I swear it.”

You hesitated and then hid your face again after deeming him to be telling the truth.

“I…I don’t entirely hate it. Truth be told, it’s the opposite. I really…enjoy it.”

He couldn’t help snickering, but he was quick to clarify at how silent you got, to reassure you.

“I-hehe. Oh, shit. I’m not laughing at you. I promise. Just, oh Lord, give me a second.”

He finally collected himself, running a hand through his hair and sighed.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that. It’s too cute for me not to laugh. If you ever want to be tickled you know all you have to do is ask.”

“You say that like it’s easy but-”

“But you’d prefer to be a brat to get me to tickle you instead because it’s easier, hm? In character for you. I’m fine with that. For now.”

“For now?”

“Yes. For now. If you keep hiding things from us for what you believe is our benefit, and putting yourself down- now I have the perfect way to punish you. Maybe then the lesson will stick that you are anything but less than.”

“Vax…”

He brushed off the vulnerability with ease, returning to his playful affect, as if he hadn't said anything.

“As I said for tonight, however, I’m more than happy to put you in your place when you act up but…”

You squeaked as he dragged his index finger down your spine, making you shiver.

“There’s still the matter of all this tension you’re holding. Do I have your permission to deal with it, even if it tickles?”

“Mm…mmhmm.”

“Heh. Good. I’m not going to go easy on you now that I know you like this, I hope you know.”

He leaned down to blow air into your ear before whispering.

“We’ve got quite a lot of lost time to make up for~”

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 2 years ago

Text

Gray - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog 18+ Only

Warnings: Jake’s Sad; Showering Together; Half-Naked Cuddling; No Actually Suggestive Actions; Jake Likes Your Boobs; Use of “You,” No Y/N; No Physical Description (Minus You Having Boobs)

Summary: You try to cheer your boyfriend Hangman up.

Master List

It wasn’t often that your outgoing, outspoken, and generally charismatic boyfriend got down on himself, but like anyone else, Jake had his moments. He was human too, though he often liked to say that he was superhuman. And sometimes he was the one who needed cuddles and someone to pick his back up.

You woke up early, expecting Jake to still be out of his morning run, when you spotted him on the couch, just laying down and lost in his thoughts. Slowly making your way over to him, you climbed up onto the couch and curled into his chest.

“Did you go for your run?” you asked softly, resting your head on his chest.

“Didn’t feel like it,” Jake murmured, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“You feel sick?” you questioned, placing your hand on his cheek to test the temperature.

“No, just . . . gray.”

“You sleep okay?”

“No. I came out here because I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Staring up at your boyfriend with concern, you trailed your fingers down his cheek slowly. You could feel the beginnings of stubble underneath your fingers and sat up. Jake glanced up at you as you shifted up the couch. Running your hands through his hair, you studied his face.

“Did you want to be alone today?”

“No,” Jake stated, pulling you closer so that you couldn’t leave him.

“Alright. Why don’t I make us some breakfast and then we’ll watch a movie or something?”

When Jake nodded, you smiled and pressed a kiss to his nose before getting up to make some food for the both of you.

~~~~~

After the two of you finished up your breakfast and movie, you dragged Jake with you to take a shower. And you knew the second that Jake didn’t make some kind of dumb suggestive comment when you pulled him into the bathroom that something was off with your boyfriend.

“Come on,” you stated, pulling Jake’s shirt off and over his head. “You’ll feel better after you’ve had a shower.”

You and Jake stepped under the warm spray and you reached up, making sure that Jake’s hair got soaked through before you reached for the shampoo. Rubbing the shampoo between your hands you started massaging it into Jake’s hair, making sure to give his scalp a good rub while you were at it.

Washing out the shampoo from his hair, you reached for the body soap. Gently washing Jake’s chest and arms and back, you stopped in front of him again and let the spray wash the soap away.

“Do you want to get out?” you asked Jake softly, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Not yet,” Jake murmured, resting his head beside your own and pulling you closer.

~~~~~

You eventually called time on the shower and patted yourself and Jake down with a fluffy towel. You slipped on some underwear and Jake did the same before the two of you laid down on your bed together. This time you were on the bottom and Jake was laying somewhat on top of you.

He rested his head between your breasts, just listening to your heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of your chest. You ran a hand through his wet hair, trying to soothe him some more. Jake didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about what was bothering him today and you didn’t want to push him.

Between your heartbeat, breathing, and finger in his hair at a steady rhythm, Jake slowly started to drift off to sleep. When you felt the tension leave his body, you smiled to yourself and reached for the TV remote. You didn’t want to move and disturb Jake, so you decided that watching a few episodes of your favorite TV show would pass the time just fine.

But after about two hours, your legs went a bit numb and you really needed to use the bathroom, so you very carefully slipped out from under your boyfriend. Pulling the blanket further up Jake’s back, you rested his head on a pillow and headed out of the room. Returning not even five minutes later with a snack and glass of water, you nearly jumped when Jake’s raspy voice called out to you.

“You left,” he complained, causing you to laugh.

“I’m sorry,” you replied, setting down your things and crawling back into bed.

Jake didn’t waste any time in pulling you under the blanket. Rolling the two of you over so that he was on top, Jake rested his head in between your breasts, pressing a kiss to the side of your left and then your right one.

“My pillows,” he mumbled out, causing you to shake your head at him.

“Well, they go where I go,” you hummed, threading your fingers in his hair again. “But I guess we can stay.”

“I love you,” Jake breathed out, already half-asleep again.

“I love you too, Jakey.”

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