#like i love them to death but let them breathe. let them just Make Stuff on their own time and get excited when it’s out
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gothicfied · 2 days ago
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a fic where Dae-Ho (or anyone) comforts a reader to bed because she/he is haunted by seeing people getting shot, blood and etc. Pretty please?🥺 He also is on watch during lights out and comforts them again while noticing them having reoccurring nightmares and mumbling in their sleep. You could also turn this the other way around because my boy Dae-Ho needs some comfort too! ���
love your fics and past work btw!! ^^
Sleepless Nights - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388
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Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x Reader
Summary: After past trauma from being a marine, Dae-ho isn't handling the circumstances of the games well. Thankfully, you're there when he needed you the most.
Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots, PTSD (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's fluff/comfort, not proof read (english isn't my first language)
Word count: 812 Words
A/N: hii and thank you sm! I loved this idea actually🙏🙏
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Your eyes hurt from staying up so long, counting down the seconds until it was Dae-ho's turn to be on watch. The night was grueling and long — all you could do was stare ahead and think about all the past decisions that led you here. I shouldn't have done this, I could've done that.. you were just breaking your mind like that. After you almost nodded to sleep *again*, you decided this was the best time to wake your friend up and get some well deserved rest.
Quietly, you shuffled to the mattresses Gi-hun had your group set up, searching for Dae-ho in the dark. When you spotted his jacket from behind, the number '388' still readable with little to no light, you went to tap him on the shoulder. That was before you noticed him jolting and breathing quite heavily in his sleep, his face contorted with something like fear. Oh, he was having a nightmare. What are you supposed to do now? Wake him up to free him from his dream? Or should you just leave him be? Would that be bad?
While you were slightly panicking, Dae-ho woke up himself from feeling someone looming over him. His eyes immediately darted to you and he quickly sat up, like he was ready to fight you. "Hey.. hey, it's okay! It's me." you whispered, backing up a bit to give him some space. Dae-ho blinked a couple of times, his mind still reeling with the thoughts of his nightmare. The one that was reoccurring ever since he got here. The man took a deep breath and dropped his head down for a moment, just staring at his lap. "Are.. you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"
Dae-ho simply nodded and smiled, trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. "Yeah, don't worry about me. This happens.. all the time." The shakiness of his voice suggested otherwise. "Is it my time to be on watch?" With a confused, and slightly concerned, look you slowly nodded shifting a bit. Dae-ho slowly stood up, as not to disturb Jun-hee who was sleeping right beside him, and took another deep breath. "Are you actually okay? You seem really shaken up. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Dae-ho smiled again, this time genuinely, silently appreciating your concern. "No.. no, I don't want to bother you. You need to sleep, come on." He pointed down at the mattress, signaling for you to just lay down and let him handle his own business. That's how he always did it anyway, he didn't like to feel like his problems were burdening others, especially in here. "No, don't be ridiculous. I'll sit down with you for a second." So, you just took Dae-ho's hand and led him to the designated spot a bit further away from your sleeping space. The blue 'O' and the red 'X' on the floor illuminated the whole area, the light of both reflecting on his face.
"I've had this nightmare since I got here." Dae-ho started the conversation again, his eyes glued to the big metal door, where the pink guards would always emerge from. "This whole thing.. people getting shot, people dying all because they're in debt," his voice was barely above a whisper, "it's so messed up. I'm a marine.. I should be- Oh, I don't know. It reminds me of all the things I had to facd while serving this country." You nodded along, letting out a 'mhm' to show him you were listening. You didn't really think about it that way at all — Of course this would affect him so much, he probably had PTSD.
"I can't say that I know what that feels like, but I definitely understand." you whispered back, slowly turning your head to look at him. You felt really bad, but you also didn't know how to better the situation. All you could do is wish that this nightmare would soon end with everyone finally coming to their senses and voting 'X'. Dae-ho scrunched his nose, now burying his face in his hands. You couldn't tell if he was crying or was still shaken up, but you put your arm around him nonetheless. Like he always did with you when you were scared or stressed.
Feeling your arm around him, Dae-ho took this as an invitation and immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you for being here with me." he mumbled into your shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Your expression softened, hugging him back after a few moments. His skin felt hot against yours and it kind of felt like he was suffocating you with his arms, but you couldn't be happier when Dae-ho expressed his gratitude.
"Of course. I'll stay up with you for a little bit longer, okay?"
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jellxzy · 2 days ago
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𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: “𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮” - 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲.
|| 𝐂𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
|| 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬!: 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭
|| 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝.
|| 𝐀/𝐧: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭!!!! 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐓-𝐓 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐡𝐡𝐡, 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞! 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐? 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞??
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"My dear Hyun-ju."
Hyun-ju opens the letter gripping the paper tightly as the tears fall from her eyes. After witnessing multiple deaths of the people she loves—loved.
"I'm writing this letter as I sit on my bunk, which is across from where you are right now. I know that I am somewhat important in your life now. But don't worry, you don't have to keep protecting me."
Hyun-ju reads the letter, swallowing the lump in her throat before continuing
"Rest assured my love, I will get you to win this wretched game, made by my wretched father."
Her breath hitched at the word; father.
"Enough of the sad stuff. I hope this letter reaches you safely, and I most certainly hope you get out of this place safely. I am sincerely sorry that I didn't save Young-mi, if I could've, I would've."
Hyun-ju smile saddened at the mention of Young-mi, her heart aching as she goes on.
"I hope you reach Thailand and complete your transition, my love. You deserve it. After working so hard and tolerating all the stares you get, you deserve everything in the world."
She felt touched that you even managed to remember something like that about her, even though she only spoke about it once.
"My love, I'm writing this letter in the bathroom, secretly. So they wouldn't notice how I got a pen and paper here. I hope Junhee's baby is safe, and her of course."
Hyun-ju glanced at Junhee and her baby, she smiled at them.
"I also hope, Yongsik and his sweet mother make it out, I wish for him not to be a gambling addict anymore. A little part in me heals as she treats me like a daughter, the mother I will never have."
Hyun-ju then glanced to Yongsik and his mother hugging each other for warmth.
"I hope you are well, my love. I hope you enjoy the money you received, I'm sorry I won'y be there with you. You know how strict my dad is. Use the money well and wisely, most importantly do what you want, don't let other people get to you okay? I won't be there to support you along the way. But at the very end of your path, I will be there waiting for you."
Hyun-ju smiled bitterly at your letter.
"I never expected to fall in love in a place like this. Full of death, yet we found love. So, I will forever cherish that love that I have for you, I'm afraid I have fallen too deep for you to let the games continue. I don't want to die. I want to keep on loving you with all my heart. But, I know I'll never make it out of here."
Hyun-ju's tears spilled out at the next paragraph.
"My love, I know I will never make it out of here, but don't be sad. Before hand I will have created 365 letters to send to you every-day, to remind you of the special love I have for you. And for the first time in my life, I have felt genuine love, from you and to you. I love you."
"Hi, My love. I am currently writing this letter to you, whilst bleeding. So, I am sorry for the blood that will possibly get on this page. As of now I have written over 237 letters to send to you. I'm sorry, I don't think it's possibly that I continue on. The rest of my time on earth, I want to spend with you. I cannot currently find you, or any one. So, here I am writing this letter to you. I just want you to know, my beating heart belongs to you. And only you. I'd die for you. I'd go through hell for you. As my love is only for you, my soul is meant to be yours forever. I love you, Cho Hyun-ju."
Hyun-ju sobs quietly as she folds the letter and placing it into her pockets securely. She wipes her tears before approaching Gi-hun. "Gi-hun, are you sure that there was no dead body near this letter?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. All I saw was a letter addressing to you and a bloody pen near it." Gi-hun explains as they both look to the horizon, finally escaping the island. "We were both betrayed, Hyun-ju." Gi-hun puts a hand on her shoulder.
"But, it's time to move on with life. As much as I loved him, and you loved her. It's time to move on." He comforts Hyun-ju with a small smile.
"Goodbye, my love." Hyun-ju whispers into the air. Saying goodbye to both the island she despises to never see again, and to you, the one person she longs to see again.
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lilmisswhyso · 1 month ago
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ngl i really wish people would stop speculating/demanding/expecting some kind of update regarding new music as if tad is in the same realm as the major label artists
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xcziel · 6 months ago
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#kpop rambling feel free to ignore#the thing about stray kids and ateez getting even more massively popular is that i am genuinely so happy for them?#like when i sort of half-watched that kingdom season years ago both groups struck me as just#incredibly talented and hard-working but also as just great guys? like making the whole show into more of a#lovefest (kinda) that a competition seems to have come from them being friendly and kind and refusing to be#bitchy and backstabby just to 'mske television' or whatever - so it came off more like the olympics lol#where people just want to do their very best and encourage their fellow participants to do *their* best etc etc#and i do love quite a few ateez songs - if not as much of their most recent stuff and admire stray kids style and ethos#even if most of their song catalog just doesn't click for me - bc that's cool! not everything is *for me*#i can recognize skill and talent and hard work even when something doesn't conform exactly to my personal vibe#(and also beauty is beauty like come on both groups are SO visually stunning they deserve every contract/close-up/photoshoot)#even though i mostly post about bts because i LOVE their music including the solo releases i still reblog skz and ateez#because they are amazing and i am thrilled that they're getting all the attention and success they deserve#(although maybe getting a little overworked like my gods i know you gotta capitalize on the moment#i do understand but let these men catch a *breath* you know - we've seen what happens when groups get exhausted and scheduled to death)#i just feel weird sometimes as a not official fan of the music always but more the groups as ... people? performers? idk#i just like them and think they're neat lol#and i keep wanting to say something about it but i think it'd be weird to leave the sentiment in like tags on someone's gifset or something#it's not like i don't think plenty of other groups are gorgeous and hardworking as well (lyon for life! ha)#i just keep vaguely paying attention to charts bc of bts solo stuff and seeing people like making an either/or proposition#out of who you like and i'm just happy they are all successful and getting their due?#like these guys are normalizing publicly being friends across companies and fandoms as well as#having boundaries and manners and calling out industry bullshit - i couldn't be more proud of them for that#and for sort of taking up where bts had to leave off bc of ms in pushing the industry forward#like 4th gen is doing the WORK and while building off the foundations laid beforehand they're also#remaining down to earth and not ... untouchable? for the fans? and just generally presenting a 'regular guys' type image#which ... i guess i'm old and remember when a group of twentysomething guys meant public wastedness and clubbing and#horrible sexist girlfriend situationships and gossip columns and seemingly competing to appear like the most 'gangsta'#so like legos and fashion design and amateur asmr etc are reassuring pastimes lol#like not implying they don't drink or scuffle or get up to things but just the sense of being dedicated professionals is VERY clear
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charmedimsure · 11 days ago
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Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.
thank you and happy new year <3
*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)
The Three of Us
pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader
summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.
word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)
warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff
A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3
Part 2: After the Games
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The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.
Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.
Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."
The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"
The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"
"Class 946, sir!"
Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."
Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.
"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."
Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."
Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.
"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."
All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.
<>
"Time for team selection is up."
You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.
"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."
Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"
You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.
His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"
You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."
You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.
Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."
390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"
You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?
388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."
You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.
390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."
Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"
You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."
390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."
As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.
"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."
You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."
388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."
Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.
You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.
"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.
With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."
Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.
Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."
You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.
"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."
You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.
"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."
"Victory at all costs!"
<>
The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.
The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.
The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.
The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.
Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.
"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"
A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.
Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.
"Old hag! What are you doi-"
Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.
You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.
"Rotten bitch!"
All five pieces end up in her hand.
"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.
044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.
A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.
"Oh shit," you say under your breath.
Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.
Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.
Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.
It's done! They did it!
The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.
The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.
As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."
You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.
"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"
"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."
390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"
The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.
When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.
You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.
As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"
"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.
388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.
390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."
Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.
He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.
"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"
As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."
You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.
As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"
Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.
"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."
You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.
"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"
You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.
001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.
Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.
Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.
456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."
001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.
You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.
456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.
One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...
You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.
"Pass."
You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.
As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.
The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.
"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."
You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.
As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.
001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"
You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."
Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.
"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."
Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."
"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."
Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."
"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.
Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."
"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"
You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."
"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."
You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."
001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."
You nod. "Okay."
"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"
"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.
"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.
A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.
You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.
"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"
"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.
"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."
You smile and nod in thanks.
"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.
"Victory at all costs."
<>
You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.
Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"
You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.
With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."
"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.
"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.
He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."
"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."
Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."
"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."
Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"
Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."
The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"
"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."
There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."
You shake your head. "No, that's okay."
"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."
You thank him as you take the milk.
Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."
You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.
"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.
Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.
<>
"Pass it to me."
The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.
"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."
"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.
"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"
"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."
"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."
Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."
Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.
"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."
The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.
<>
After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.
He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"
You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.
"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"
You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."
Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.
"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"
You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."
Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.
"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."
"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."
"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.
"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"
Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.
"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.
The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."
You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"
He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."
You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."
He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."
"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."
"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."
You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."
He smiles at you. "Goodnight."
You smile back. "Goodnight."
For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.
<>
You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.
"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.
You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"
Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.
"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."
"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."
"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."
Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.
"Victory at all costs."
<>
"Let the game begin."
The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.
"Ten."
Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.
Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"
"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.
"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.
A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"
Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"
The two groups go running off towards a door.
"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.
"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.
"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"
"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.
You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.
Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.
Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"
"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.
"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.
You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.
Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.
Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.
"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."
"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."
Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"
You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."
Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"
"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.
After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"
Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."
You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.
The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.
Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.
"Now, the final round will begin."
The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.
"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.
"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.
"Why?"
"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."
"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.
You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."
The platform stops and the lighting dims.
"Two."
Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.
You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.
Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.
The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.
"Can I do something really stupid?"
Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"
You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.
For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.
You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.
"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."
You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.
The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.
Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.
~
Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck
Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!
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3verythingiknowaboutlove · 1 month ago
Text
first fall of snow
how spencer guesses you're pregnant before you actually tell him
fluff word count: 1390 warnings & tags & stuff: pregnant reader, slight issues with mother mentioned?, non-graphic vomiting, mentions/allusions to winter holidays being celebrated, kinda spencer's pov but still 2nd pov, reader is scared spencer will leave her lol, anxious!reader in general, mentions of death?, probably medical inaccuracies ive never been pregnant author's note: hiiii i'm forcing myself to post this because if i don't then i'll never post and i'm being BRAVE. i hope it can be a little comforting maybe. i've realllyyyy been struggling with my take on spencer's characterization lately soo this was kinda like a bootcamp/exercise situation into his mind and less an expression of my writing skills, iykwim. let me know your thoughts if u have any! i love you & have a splendid day!!
Spencer is walking—speed walking—toward his car, away from the case he just finished, away from serial killers and guns and geographical profiling and death.
He places his feet carefully on the snow-covered sidewalk with each step, the cold air biting at his face. He barely notices it, absorbed in the path ahead, as the snow provides a satisfying crunch underfoot—a nice background to his perpetually racing mind.
He doesn’t like the winter. It’s always too harsh outdoors, and too stuffy indoors, and he’s trapped in a suffocating haze no matter where he goes. 
His phone starts to vibrate gently in his pocket, interrupting his racing thoughts for a split second. His pace falters as he pulls it free, a quick smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he sees it’s your name on the screen.
“Hi. How are you?” he asks after picking up, watching his breath come out in puffs of vapor in the cold air.
Winters, however, have gotten progressively better each year he spends with you.
“...I’m okay,” you say, though the crack in your voice reveals the all-consuming ache in your bones and mind.
“No. You’re overwhelmed,” he guesses in his matter-of-fact way, voice gentle. You huff out a soft laugh at his ability to read you, never getting old.
“Yeah, I guess. A little. The holiday season, you know. Are you on your way home?” you ask, voice softer now. You’re sitting on the couch of yours and Spencer’s cozy apartment, wrestling with a blanket to cover your lap, and bouncing your leg relentlessly.
“I’m walking to the car now. Hey, have you done the crossword today?” Spencer asks, words a familiar, tender remedy for your nerves. You told him a long time ago that hearing his voice makes you feel better, and there are times, like these, where he just knows it’s what you need. You rest our head on the arm of the couch, curling up.
“No, I didn’t have the time. Why?”
“There was an interesting question about causes of death in Shakespeare plays, but they completely messed up the part of speech. It read, ‘Popular ways to die by the hands of England’s national poet’. I thought it was ‘poisons’ at first, but it was actually ‘stabbed’, even though the correct answer grammatically should’ve been ‘stabs’ or ‘stabbings’,” he says, his car now in sight through the steady sprinkle of snow coming down. “Do you think I should send an email to let them know? I guess stabbing does make more sense, though, versus poison, because throughout his works, thirty characters out of his 74 that died were stabbed compared to only four that were poisoned. Three were stabbed and poisoned. Did you know that two were actually baked into pies, which is a-”
“Oh my god, the pie,” you groan, cutting him off mid-sentence, sitting up hastily, the blanket falling to the floor.
“Pie?”
“Yeah. My mom coerced me into making it to bring tomorrow.” You pad over to the kitchen and crouch down to peek through the hazy glass of the oven, inspecting it. “Oh,” you murmur. “It’s…not pretty.”
He sandwiches the phone in between his ear and shoulder, gently opening the door to his car to sit down as he listens to you. He turns the heat on, exhaling in an exhausted relief, hovering his hand over where the air comes out. 
“Can you tell me what it looks like? Maybe I can help,” he suggests, leaning back against the headrest and letting his eyes close for a second. You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the counter as you bend down to take it out. “Don’t burn yourself,” he adds, hearing what you’re doing.
“I’m not going to burn my-” you cut yourself off with a huff. “Whatever. It’s just really messy. There’s like… liquid overflowing where the lattice should be.”
He hums. “How long has it been cooking for?”
“45 minutes. My mom sent me this one ancient recipe that I had to use written on parchment paper from like 70 years ago, and it does not have a bake time listed, so I’m just eyeballing it.”
“Okay. You could either put it back in the oven in hopes that more of the liquid will evaporate, or you can leave it out to cool down and hopefully thicken,” he says.
“What do you think I should do?”
“I think you sound exhausted and need your sleep.” 
You sigh, staring at your mess of a pie, hopes that you’ll appease your mother this year slipping further and further away, soon to be completely buried by the snow.
“Hey. I’m sure it’ll taste really good. Besides, people still liked Shakespeare, and he wrote about much worse pies than you could ever make.” 
A smile pulls at your lips.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just leave it out to cool and head to bed. Will you stay on the phone a little longer?” you ask, padding over to your shared bedroom.
“Of course.”
He doesn’t start driving as you talk, not when nearly 2000 people die per year due to driving on icy roads, and two thirds of them were people who were reported to not be paying close enough attention.
And especially not when 54 hours ago on your last phone call, he noticed a drastic shift in your behavior, and was quickly able to tell that you were pregnant. 
He had too much waiting for him at home to be spinning out on black ice because he was talking to you and not watching the road.
He chooses instead to look outside at the falling snow, blanketing the city, his city, the very first for D.C. to have this winter out of the septillion snowflakes planet earth receives each year.
Spencer gets home a little later that night, holding another pint of cherries in his hands. Not for the pie—which he turns to see resting on the stove and winces slightly at—but for you. 
Cherries, with their 342 mg of potassium per cup, help replenish lost electrolytes and can soothe nausea.
He’s expecting it to start any day now.
He quietly steps into the bedroom, setting his bag by the door to be dealt with tomorrow. The soft glow of the lamp that was left on, presumably for him by your endlessly considerate heart, provides just enough light so he can get changed. He then finally clambers into bed next to you, one hand reaching out to lace in your hair, moving his fingers to gently scratch by the nape of your neck. He lifts the other to rest, like you're made of a delicate china, on your lower stomach, sighing in pure relief the second it makes contact.
You turn sleepily, humming when you’re met with the sight of him. “Spence,” you murmur, contented.
“Hi. I really didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry,” he says, so quietly.
“I'm glad you did. I like it when you wake me.” You tuck yourself closer to him. “I love you.” His hand comes to trace gentle patterns all over your back and arm, and he gives you a little kiss, adoringly.
“Go back to sleep. I love you.”
You let your eyes shut once again, this time much easier now that he’s with you. You inhale his scent, which you swear could repair anything broken or lost in this world. You exhale, wondering if he’d still hold you the same way after learning that you’re carrying his child. 
It’s a scary thought, but you’re comforted by his warm touch, pushing you farther out into the deep sea of sleep.
Once your breaths get steady and your mouth parts slightly, he adds, in a whisper, “Both.”
The next morning, when you’re hunched over the toilet bowl, Spencer is there with you, rubbing your back and wiping your teary eyes. You look up to him after brushing your teeth, and no words are exchanged. He tugs you into his arms, silently quelling any of the countless anxieties swarming your mind, at least in this moment.
His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He lets it rest there, cupping your jaw.
“Let’s go shopping after breakfast today, okay? You need prenatal vitamins.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“And a new pie.”
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hoshifighting · 2 months ago
Note
Hello,
So I was wondering, would you be able to write something about cock-warming with Seventeen? If not OT13, then maybe just Hoshi?
This is my first time making a request and I absolutely love your writing! I look forward to seeing your new posts every time I open the app!
Thank you 😊
cock warming with seventeen
seungcheol: he’s gritting his teeth, telling you to “sit still” ina scolding tone. man is holding on for dear life, hands on your hips, fully committed to the whole “stay still” command even though he’s just as worked up. he gives you this look that says “one wrong move and it’s over”—yet he’s lowkey loving how hard it is to keep himself together. eventually, you shift just a little and he’s like, “oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” ready to wreck you right then and there.
jeonghan: he’s the absolute worst tease about it. why would you choose HIM to do that? he got that little smirk, acting all unbothered, whispering about how needy you look just sitting there on him. he’ll brush his fingers over your hips, trailing them up your spine just to mess with you. every time you try to move, he’s like, “uh-uh, baby, stay still.” you know he’s having fun watching you squirm, and he’s definitely making it as drawn-out as possible.
joshua: gives you sweet little smiles while low-key dying inside. he’s got that hand on the small of your back, running his fingers there just to keep you close. he’ll whisper all these sweet nothings, telling you how “perfect” you are, and every time you clench or move a little, he shudders, just waiting for the second he can actually move.
junhui: oh, he’s got no patience. he’s sitting there, already hard as hell, and you’re making it worse with every tiny shift. he laughs it off, biting his lip, telling you you’re “gonna regret testing him.” jun’s the type to nudge your hips a little, just to get a reaction, muttering stuff like, “if you keep doing that, don’t blame me for what happens.” he’s a mess and doesn’t even last.
hoshi: he’s like, “why did we even think this was a good idea?” wiggling around, not even pretending to keep still. every little movement makes him lose it just a bit more, and he’s already breathing heavy, wet as fuck. you both know he’s absolutely hopeless at staying still, but the boy’s trying, just loving the fact that you’re driving him up the wall.
wonwoo: he’s calm on the outside, hands steady on your hips, acting like it’s all fine and dandy, but you can feel that bro is almost melting in that game chair. every time you move, he’s biting the inside of his cheek, giving you these intense, dark-eyed looks like, “don’t test me.” he’ll stay like that as long as he can, but little to go snapping.
woozi: this man is a brick wall, hands locked around your waist, practically daring you to move. he’s got a total death grip on his self-control but gives himself away every time he swallows hard or clenches his jaw. determined to make you stay still until he’s ready.
minghao: so de-stressed, it’s unreal. he’s got his hands tracing gentle circles on your back, just enjoying the closeness but totally into it. every time you shift, he just hums, getting more and more fired up. you can tell he’s feeling it, breathing deeper, pressing you closer, but he’ll still try to play it off. he’s in no rush but is totally giving in soon.
mingyu: man’s a mess, plain and simple. he’s holding onto your hips with his nails almsot, wide-eyed and flustered as hell. he tries to be the big and strong boyy he is, but every little move makes him gulp, giving you these desperate, needy looks. probably ends up blurting, about how much he needs to fuck you.
seokmin: so flustered, you’d think it’s his first time. he’s trying to stay calm, keeping his hands on your hips to keep you in place, but he can’t help it; every time you shift, he’s turning red, letting out little gasps, unable to keep himself from reacting. he’s all, “oh my god, please, just—stay still!”
seungkwan: so worked up, it’s ridiculous. he’s like, “this was the worst idea ever babe!” but his hands are glued to you, like he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. he’s torn between panic and total enjoyment, all red-faced and muttering how he’s “seriously trying here.” you can tell he’s struggling, giving you little pleading looks.
vernon: silent but done for. he’ll just sit there, eyes wide, hardly breathing as he holds onto you, doing his best to stay in control but you can see the struggle. every little movement you make has him gripping your hips harder, like he’s hanging on by a thread. probably mutters, “you’re evil,” under his breath, fully aware he’s about to cum like this.
chan: incredibly sweet, probably nervous but also very into it. he’ll laugh softly, maybe trying to make small talk just to keep both of you calm, but the longer you stay like that, the more it drives him crazy. he’ll whisper, asking if you’re okay, gently reminding you to stay still but clearly enjoying when you clench or ride him a bit, especially when you both start to give in a little. BUUUUUT—he waits for you to break first.
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hurlingdown · 8 months ago
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Ima eat you and your writing it’s so good can I please get a whiny sub Luffy x domtop male reader who’s like kinda tall I’m talking a tad bit shorter then brook type tall you can ignore if this is too specific 👍 love your work
EAT YOU UP — TOP MALE READER X MONKEY D. LUFFY
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synopsis. luffy loved to sleep in your lap. it was warm, comfortable, and a big enough seat for him to nestle into. it didn't particularly bother you, and even if it did, you wouldn't be able to say no to your adorable captain anyway. just like you hadn't been able to say no to him when his ulterior motives re-surfaced. wc. 1.6k
tags. whiny! sub! luffy, dom! reader. size difference, reader's got a big cock, anal sex, virginity loss, cum eating, tongue-fucking, blowjob, he has no gag reflex, luffy being luffy, bit fluffy ngl
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Luffy revelled in your size difference. 
The way you towered over him, your large hands being able to completely encircle his waist. Not to mention, you made such a good makeshift bed that he just couldn’t help but snuggle into your lap most afternoons, just to take a fat nap. 
You never really minded, as it didn’t interfere with your routine. Plus, having a lap warmer with you anywhere you went was undeniably a huge bonus. 
Today was one of those afternoons. 
Luffy hummed a song, squirming on your lap to find a comfortable position for his nap. You didn’t think much of it at first, until he started shifting about, his back pressed against your chest to directly sit on your cock. 
You froze, feeling the heat rush to your face, and somewhere else—it didn’t help that the rubber captain never kept still. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, as he had looked up at you with an adorably blinding grin, his gummy smile having wormed its way into your heart long ago. 
“Luffy,” you began awkwardly. 
“You’re hard today.” 
You spluttered. “I’m what today?” 
He turned around in your lap to blink innocently at you. “You’re harder than usual today, y/n!” 
“Oh. Haha… I am, aren’t I?” You let out a breath of relief. It hadn’t occurred to you that Luffy quite possibly didn’t know about that sort of stuff; or perhaps wasn’t interested in all, seeing as he never bat an eye to the beautiful, well-endowed Boa Hancock who practically threw herself at him at every chance. 
You were absorbed in your thoughts until you felt a hand palm your hard cock roughly. 
“Luffy!” Your hips bucked upwards, nearly throwing him off your lap. “What was that for—” 
“So yours does the same thing, too. Shishi, I thought my dick was broken when I touched it and it turned hard!” 
Oh. So he had touched himself before. Guess you could save yourself from having to give ‘the talk’ to an absolute airhead. 
“Wow,” Luffy continued to squeeze and fondle your cock through the thin layer of your pants, making you bite your lip to suppress a groan. “You’re pretty big!” 
“Captain,” you snapped, finally, glaring at him as he pouted. “This isn’t appropriate.” 
“But why not?” he protested, still not releasing his death-grip on your cock. 
“This—we—aren’t in that sort of relationship.” 
Luffy simply frowned. “Do we have to be in a relationship to touch each other’s dicks?” 
“Well, no, but—” 
“Good!” 
Before he went back to straight-up kneading your poor cock, you grabbed his wrists and bound them behind his back with one hand. 
“But why?” he whined loudly, bottom lip jutting out as he stared up at you. “I want to! You gotta let me! I’m the captain!” 
You sighed. “You may be my captain, but that doesn’t mean you get to take advantage of your superiority to sexually harass me whenever you want.” 
“I’m not sensually harassing you, or whatever that is!” 
“It’s ‘sexually harass’, not sensually harass. And—why do you even want to do this in the first place? You’ve never acted like this before when you napped on me before.” 
“I just suddenly want to! What’s the matter with that?!” Luffy looked petulant, almost angry as he couldn’t get what he wanted, and he retracted one of his legs hooked around your waist to tramp on your cock. 
You let out a guttural moan at that, and Luffy’s eyes had widened visibly, as though he wanted to hear more. 
“Hey, y/n? My dick’s hard.” 
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“Is this what you wanted, baby?” 
Luffy’s knees were pressed into the mattress above his shoulders, making good use of his stretchiness as he shudders and whines a response beneath you. His hole is stretched perfectly around your cock, warm and wet and tight, taking you to the brim so well. 
“Y-yeah, puh—please!” he wailed desperately, raking his nails on your back as you angled your hips, thrusting up into his sweet spot. “So—so big—ah!” 
“There it is.” You grinned, hands fully wrapping around his waist to tug him back onto your cock like a ragdoll, perfectly nailing his prostate again. “Think we found it, mm?” 
Luffy nodded his head weakly, trembling all over as you railed him into the mattress with each heavy thrust, before dragging him back. “Feels really g-good! Right—right there!” 
“Here, captain?” You purposefully missed, tip of your cock barely grazing it, and he whined shamelessly. 
“No! Not there!” he moaned, shaking his head in frustration as he looked at you with pleading eyes. “Y/n, I need it s-so bad!” 
You would have never thought that Luffy was capable of such dirty talking. But right now—with your captain willingly spreading his legs for you, hole stretched wide open and insides rearranging themselves to fit your huge cock, you couldn’t even process it except for how good it felt. 
“And what’s the magic word, love?” 
“M-magic word?” He blinks at you confusedly. “I don’t know any—any magic word! I’m not—a magician, ah, silly!” 
Warmth curled in your chest at how utterly ridiculous Luffy was, and you gave a little laugh, before leaning down to kiss him. Luffy kissed you back with eagerness, biting and sucking impatiently at your lower lip. As you fucked your tongue into that pliant little mouth of his, mirroring your cock’s every thrust, he had sucked on it and moaned around it, drool spilling down the sides of his mouth as though it felt heavenly for him. 
“So full…” Luffy whimpered around your tongue, eyes rolling back in ecstasy—and you couldn’t pinpoint which hole he was referring to. 
You reeled back after a long kiss, going back to pounding into him as he whined for “harder”, for “more”, and “wanting to eat the funny liquid that comes out of your cock”. 
Your breath hitched in surprise as you realised what Luffy meant. “Want me to cum down your throat, baby? That what you want?” You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, his warm, spongy walls pulsating around you every time you pulled back, as though wanting to keep you inside forever. 
“Yes, yes—wanna, wanna know what you taste like, y/n!” he babbled mindlessly, clinging on to your shoulders as you flattened the head of your cock against his prostate, grinding hard and deliberately. “Ugh, ugh—it feels weird—” 
“Yeah? You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Fucking do it—cum on my cock, captain.” 
With the mention of his title, Luffy’s eyes squeezed shut before his head lolled back with a loud, drawn-out moan, body jerking violently and cock spurting all over his chest and abdomen. His hole clenched around you as tight as sin, and you had to hold back with all your willpower to not come on the spot. 
Luffy panted, still twitching beneath you as he raised one shaky finger, bringing it up to his face to point into his open mouth. Asking silently. 
You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, but once you got the green light, you rammed back into his twitching hole, no longer prioritising his pleasure over yours, only able to process how divine it felt to be making love to your captain. As you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm, you pulled out of his hole all of a sudden and plunged your cock into his ready, parted mouth, cumming so hard down his throat you felt yourself ascend. 
Luffy’s lips wrapped around the base of your cock, sucking hard and milking you throughout your orgasm. You groaned, low and deep, thrusting messily into tight wet heat as cum steadily dribbled down a vacuum, as though insatiable. 
You released your hold on his hair as you felt yourself go soft, staring incredulously down at a red-faced Luffy who was sucking at you as if he was trying to swallow your entire cock. 
“Luff,” you huffed, gently wiping away a line of his own cum that had somehow splattered on his collarbones. “That’s enough.” 
It was then that he finally pulled back, frantically sucking air through his mouth. “I—I couldn’t taste it,” he whined, the corners of his lips turning down unhappily. “Your cum, or whatever. I couldn’t taste it and it went down my throat!” 
Oh. Oh. 
You suppressed a laugh—because that was what he was being prissy about. Caressing his face affectionately, you went to lay down beside him. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll just put the tip inside.” 
“It’s fine. I felt full enough.” 
Luffy had to stop dropping these one-liners that made you gape. 
“What? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” He looked at you, frowning with confusion. “Y’know, this almost made me as full as the banquet-thingy Sanji put together last week. There was so much yummy food! Your dick was really good, too, though—so don’t get jealous.” 
You really had to get used to the way Luffy talked—because he talked way too much and it drove you absolutely crazy. In an almost ‘too good’ way. This had to stop. 
“Luffy.” You pulled him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he giggled happily. “Stop talking.”  masterlist! # luffy is such a fun character to write lol
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angelfic · 1 year ago
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Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️
here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌
theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”
➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game
You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.
The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.
The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.
“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”
You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.
“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.
Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.
“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.
There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.
”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”
“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”
“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”
You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”
You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.
“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”
“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”
Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”
Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”
“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”
Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.
“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”
“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”
“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”
You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”
“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”
You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”
“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”
“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”
“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”
You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”
“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”
“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”
“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.
“Always.”
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dollfacefantasy · 11 months ago
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I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.
(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap
word count: 5.3k
a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
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Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.
He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.
He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.
So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.
Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.
Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.
He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.
In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.
He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.
The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.
On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.
Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.
Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face. 
“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.
His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.
“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”
“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.
Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.
“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.
He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.
But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment
Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.
“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.
“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.
You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.
“Thanks, I guess.”
You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.
“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” 
“Fine… I guess,” you answer.
You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.
“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”
“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.
“Well… yeah?” he responds.
You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.
He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.
His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.
“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”
You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.
“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.
“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.
“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”
While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.
“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”
He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.
“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”
“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”
He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.
“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”
You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.
“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”
More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”
He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.
It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.
“Sweet baby…” he whispers.
“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.
“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.
Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.
Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.
His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.
That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.
“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”
That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.
“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.
Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.
“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.
Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer
“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.
“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”
It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.
“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.
“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.
“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.
He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.
That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.
As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.
“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.
“You think so?” you ask.
“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”
Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.
“I don’t know,” you say quietly.
“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”
A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.
“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”
“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.
“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.
“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”
You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.
He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.
“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection. 
He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.
“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.
The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.
“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”
His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.
Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.
He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.
His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.
“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.
He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.
“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”
You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.
“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.
You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.
“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.
You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.
He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.
“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.
You nod again,  a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.
“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.
He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.
Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.
“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.
His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”
You gasp it again for him. Leon.
“Good girl,” he growls.
He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.
You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.
“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.
He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.
“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.
“Feels like forever,” you pout.
He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.
“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.
He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance. 
After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.
“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.
You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.
“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.
His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”
“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”
He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.
“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”
A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.
“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.
His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.
“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”
“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.
With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.
“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.
You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.
He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.
You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.
Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.
He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..
That is until he hears your voice.
“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.
He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.
“Not yet,” he answers.
“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”
He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.
“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”
He was done for.
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bbokicidal · 12 days ago
Text
where has the time gone? | [SKZ]
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genre: angst pairing: skz ot8 x reader warnings: major character death in every scenario <- read at your own discretion
may flowers grow in the saddest parts of you.
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1 year, 2 months, 14 days.
"Happy Valentine's Day." Chris coos as his hands gently tighten around the bouquet pressed into his chest. There's a soft silence that falls between the two of you and he can't help but smile, knowing it's unavoidable when he's at a loss for words - and he's the only one who can speak. "I brought you these. I remembered they were your favorite," the plastic crinkles under his fingertips, slowly moving to kneel down and hand the bouquet over. The damp grass of the early morning stains his jeans and yet he can't bring himself to care when the feeling is nothing compared to the overwhelming cold of not being able to hold you in his arms. His breathing is stuttered, shaky and warm as it leaves his lips. A hand places gently atop the heavy stone in front of him; Your name engraved with your birth - and death - date. Already over a year ago... "I wish you were here with me."
1 year, 27 days.
Minho's lip curls into his teeth and he bites down. He was grateful your mother let him in here whenever he needed it; Showing up with no warning only to be let in with warm hugs and soft welcomes, whispers that he could stay as long as he wanted. Your childhood bedroom was so... inexplicably you. Books, games, an old television, and lots of old knick knacks like a doll here and there or a blanket now stained with wear and tear. He knows your mother wouldn't mind if he touched things, moved stuff around or maybe even cleaned it up a little. But he wanted to leave it the way it was when you last touched everything. He felt that if he disturbed the peace the room brought him, your spirit would be gone for good. The closest he came was letting his back rest against your bedpost as he sat on the ground and took it all in, eyes swelling with tears. He knew he needed to stop coming here, stop disturbing your family with his presence, but he didn't want to let go.
1 year.
Changbin's hands wrap tight around the balcony railing. The metal was stained with the cold and it bit at his palms and fingertips, gnawing at him to let go. Though truth be told it didn't bother him at all - He was too busy overlooking the city lights surrounding his hotel room. He knew he'd be here a year ago today; But he was supposed to be here with you. On your anniversary together, celebrating and drinking wine, eating chocolates, tangling your limbs together in the bed and enjoying each other's presence in the city of love. But because he was stupid and offered to take you out for drinks later in the evening, a year ago today, you weren't here. The memory of the driver, intoxicated and bleary, ramming into the front of the company car makes his hands tighten around the railing in anger. Who was he to take you from him? What made him hate his life so much that he had to take another's instead? Changbin seethes on the instead, jaw clenched and tears pouring down soft cheeks usually filled with small smiles. He lets out a breath; slow, tired, pissed. But he knows that you would want him to enjoy his time in Paris even if he'd gone with the others because you weren't around anymore - so he'll do his best to relax and have fun while he can. Even if the overwhelming guilt is forever lingering.
10 months, 19 days.
"It hasn't even been a year and you're asking me to get over it." Hyunjin sobs as he pushes his palms into his eyes, fingers curled tight into fists and body wracking with his cries. "I can't just forget about them! I don't know what you - expect from me!" He can feel someone's arms wrap around him from his right and he knows immediately that it's Felix, curling up close to him and pressing his cheek into Hyunjin's shoulder with a frown. He knew Hyunjin was more angry than anything about your passing - knew that he wasn't ready to quit mourning just yet. But he couldn't keep letting it show during interviews, on stage, or during other performances. Hyunjin cried when he realized you weren't backstage to cheer him on at concerts, or had angry outbursts when anyone would talk about you and joke about things you use to say or do because he thought of it as them slandering your name even if it was a simple discussion. He couldn't stand people laughing at the memory of you because what was there to laugh at? You were dead. And with your passing, a part of him that was lighter, giggly and... happy - disappeared as well.
not yet corpses; still, we rot.
8 months, 4 days.
Jisung sits with his head down on the desk, arms thrown over the back of his head and fingers grasping hard at his hoodie sleeves. The song that plays over the studio speakers is one he had produced almost a year ago now; a softer melody, something close to "13" - a song you loved more than any of the songs that came out on their albums. He never told you - he never got the chance to - but he'd been making the song for you. Back then when you'd heard it there were no lyrics - just a sweet instrumental that made you feel like you should be dancing in a ballroom to the music, or like you belonged in a romance movie with the song playing in the background. But now... Now, he'd integrated the words he'd meant to say to you all along.
"If everything around seems dark, look again, you may be the light. (-Rumi)"
3 months, 5 days, 13 hours.
Felix's head felt heavy. Clouded. Dull. Broken. How long had he been on hiatus, now...? How long would it continue? Was he letting his fans down? Oh, right now he.. truthfully couldn't be bothered to care. As much as he adored them, everyone, he felt like he had to put himself first - even if it meant disappearing from the Earth for a few months so he could grieve the loss of his favorite person in the world. He'd returned home only a few days after it had happened, giving the boys little time to see him before he left for Australia to be away from the scene of the crime. He knew it was a freak accident, knew it never should have happened, but he also knew that if he had been two steps closer, an arm's length away - you might still be with him right now. Everything would be okay. You'd be back in the dorms cuddling or baking together, smacking each other with flour and making a mess so big even Seungmin couldn't fathom it. Or maybe, if he'd been too close to you in that moment, both of you would be gone. He shouldn't be thinking it, but... maybe that would have been better than living in a world without you.
27 days.
Seungmin wasn't sure how to feel. He was one of the group members known for being quiet, minding his own business and being a bit stoic compared to the others. But this behavior was... new. The way his jaw clenched at every mention of your name, or the way his body tensed and his hands curled into fists when he saw pictures of you. He felt an overwhelming frustration each time someone brought you up in conversation, feeling as though speaking about it would make him relive the memory of seeing the moment your body collapsed into nothing. Seungmin hated everyone who spoke about you even if it was in a positive light because he didn't want them to keep bringing you up - every mention of your name made his heart tighten in his chest until it felt like he was suffocating. And it pained him even more that people thought he wasn't grieving. Because he wasn't openly crying in public or speaking about you to the masses of media. He saw the way people spoke about him online, calling him a liar, a fake; Saying his love for you was never real. So in dealing with all of his emotions, Seungmin went home every night and laid in his bed, face buried down into his pillow. He let it build up, let the tears finally flow from his eyes, and screamed into the memory foam so loud that Felix could hear it from the next room over while gaming. He'd sob into the pillow until his throat was raw, curling up around himself and pulling his blanket over his head. People were talking about you, and now about him, too. And he didn't know how to handle it.
16 hours.
Jeongin sat in silence, but his head screamed every fews seconds for him to do something. There, on the couch in his dorm, Jeongin sat stiff with his hands digging into his knees as Chan sat nearby - rubbing gently over his back and quietly talking about how they could make arrangements, celebrate your life even if you were gone; But Jeongin heard none of it. His ears were ringing; a constant, nonstop screech that pained him to sit through, all while his thoughts were whirling around in his head like a raging dust storm that clouded all other thoughts of peace and contentedness. Get up. Go to them. Go to the hospital. Go identify them even if it's not your place. Get up. Go to the hospital. Get up. Get up. Go to them. Go to them. Go. Anywhere. Away. Go away. Go away.
He choked, and Chan stopped talking. He watched as Jeongin's eyes finally welled with tears. It was one of the only times Chan had seen Jeongin so emotional with tears pooling down his face in heavy streams of grief, his chest jerking with every breath until he was breaking down in his Hyung's arms and allowing himself to be held. Even if he went to you, you wouldn't be there. You wouldn't be smiling at him, greeting him with sparkling eyes. He would never see you again. He would never hear your voice again. And how was he supposed to live with that?
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Permanent Taglist :
@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground
@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie
@jeonginsleftcheek
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gothicfied · 8 days ago
Note
more for 124 :(((((((
Hand in Hand - Nam-gyu / Player 124
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Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x Reader
Summary: The fight in the men's bathroom and the rising tension between players gave you much to worry about, but Nam-gyu gave you to comfort you needed
Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood, killing (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)
Word count: 721 words
A/N: Tihihihi, I love this man fr. I hope this isn't too cringe🧍‍♀️
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You couldn't sleep, actually, no one was able to sleep. Sitting on the bed under you was Nam-gyu, who didn't want to talk to you - talk to anybody - after the fight was broken up. You immediately understood what was up when he yelled out that the men who voted 'X' had attacked them, killing some of the players. Thanos didn't return. Yeah, it was pretty obvious why he seemed so pissed off, so shell-shocked. Quietly, you sat up, carefully leaning down to see what he was doing. Nam-gyu was biting his fingernails, eyeing Thanos' cross necklace that he was holding in his slightly shaky hands. Seeing you leaning down from the corner of his eye, he frowned.
"What?"
"I can't sleep."
"Why?"
"I'm scared.."
Nam-gyu's face immediately softened upon hearing your words. He swallowed hard and hastily tucked the necklace into his pocket, gesturing for you to come down and sit next to him. As gently as possible to not catch anyone elses attention, you dropped down from your bed and leaned against the headboard of Nam-gyu's bed, your shoulder pressed against his. "Are you sad?" you asked quietly, just looking down at your lap as you spoke. You heard his breath hitching for a moment, but he still asked you what you meant by that. "Sad about- well you know." Silence.
Nam-gyu wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. He has witnessed so many deaths in this place by now and none of them have affected him in the slightest. He didn't know them well, so why should he care about a random player? "Because, I'm not sure if I should be." your voice interrupted his thoughts. Slowly, he turned his head your way, taking in your side profile in the dim light. "Nah," Nam-gyu chuckled, "he was an asshole. Had it coming, in my opinion." Despite his words, he sounded bitter. It's not like he didn't mean them, because that's exactly how Thanos was, but they still had some kind of.. friendship.
You met his gaze, your eyes wandering over his face covered in splatters of blood. That was worrying by itself, but you didn't have any interest in asking about what role he played in that fight. "And why are you scared?" You looked at him like he asked you the most stupid question in the world.
"Come on, you know everyone will try to kill each other now."
"And you know that I won't let anything happen to you."
Ever since he defended you from a group of men, who were making more than weird comments about you, immediately on the first day you woke up in this hellhole, you've just stuck with him. On multiple occasions now, Nam-gyu has proven that he actually won't let anything or anyone harm you. Why? He doesn't know it, either. He just likes you and you didn't take that for granted. Nam-gyu made you feel safe, you trusted him, even if that's hard to believe. Usually, he'd be compliant with what Thanos would say or tell him to do, just not when he was giving you a hard time — That's partially why he just couldn't feel sorry for that man.
Slowly, Nam-gyu wrapped his arm around your neck, making you lean your head against his. The silence between you two was never awkward and more comforting than anything. You were able to hear faint whispers of other players, feet tapping the ground and the occasional cough from that old guy, Player 100. Nam-gyu's hair tickled the side of your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Whatever happens tonight, I promise I'll keep you safe."
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loser4loserswhok1ll · 2 months ago
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How i think slashers would hug, displayed in gifs.
this is just sillay cutie stuff while i write a shit ton of other things. these are all just what id imagine theyd hug like.
characters included: brahms heelshire, jesse cromeans, asa emory, rz michael myers, billy lenz, stu macher, billy loomis, thomas hewitt, norman bates
Brahms Heelshire
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real desperate and touchy. hed swallow you whole if he could, sometimes he tries. he digs his hands into your clothes, breathes you in deep. he pants everytime you touch him like an overexcited dog. he will probably need help afterwards, so i hope you dont have anything to do in the next hour or two.
Jesse Cromeans
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hugs you from behind in a possessive, "i own you" type of way. youre his, and having you in a vulnerable position like that, back to chest, lets him remind you both of that. occasionally he'll hug you from the front, but thats usually when you guys are going to have a night together to get kinky. when you arent hugging, he loves to hold your waist. especially around people. he loves showing everyone his little trophy pet.
Asa Emory
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hes not much for physical touch, so when he hugs you its kind of awkard and aggressive. he tries to make it sweet if he thinks you really deserve it. he only does side or back hugs. when he does actually hug you, he holds your neck and shoulders in a near death grip, just reminding you who you belong to.
RZ Michael Myers
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hes so fucked up the most youll get is he'll occasionally rest his head on yours or your shoulder. his arms are stiff at his sides but its pleasant regardless. really rare, so cherish it. maybe he'll warm up as time goes on, maybe not. if you guys ever actually hug, it'll remind him of his mom and you wont see him for a week or two because he'll self isolate.
Billy Lenz
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hes the girl in the gif. he will jump you. i hope youre always prepared, because he does it randomly and he always gets a running start. he gets all shakey, starts rambling, nearly claws at you, digs his boney body into yours. he'll breathe deep but erratic, smelling every aspect of you as he babbles on. hes like a dog everytime you see him, wagging his tail and hopping up to lick you.
Stu Macher
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always really playful. if he can pick you up, he will all the time. he also loves to hold you from behind while you sit on his lap. you probably end up making out for the 50th time that day.
Billy Loomis
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if he actually loves you, the hugs are chest to chest and sweet. on a surface level, he uses back hugs with everyone else he has been with. but thats not because he loves them, its more of a 'im bigger and stronger than you' type of thing. it takes him a long time before the actually sweet and real hugs become frequent between you two. he still gives you back hugs, though. hes possessive.
Thomas Hewitt
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he will bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. youre a reminder of the domesticity he craves. your scent is his home, you arms are his warmth, your breath is his music, you are everything hes needed his entire life.
Norman Bates
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holds you so lightly you can hardly even tell hes there. hes so scared of breaking you, like youre a fragile bug he doesnt want to squash. if you guys can even get this far into a relationship (with mother and all), then hugs will be relatively frequent. his hands always shake, he always stutters, and sometimes you have to remind him that he can actually hug you instead of just gently hold you. when you arent hugging, he holds his hand on the small of your back as much as he can. hes afraid you'll slip through his fingers if he lets go for just a second, and he cant let go of you. youre the only good thing hes had in his life.
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planetwaynez · 8 months ago
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bad ideia right?
Jason x Roy x Fem!Reader
Notes: I've been cooking this JayRoy x Fem!Reader for some time now, the only thing is... I got excited and ended up writing waaaay too much so this will be separeted in two parts. This is part one, if you guys like it lemme know if you want part two, pls!!!
PART 2!!!!
WARNINGS: Talks about stalking, nearly death experince, violence, murderer, being socialy secluded, a lot of complicated feelings. This is part 1!
Words: 4,7k
Synopsis: It never crossed Roy's mind that his cute civilian ex would be knocking at his apartmant door asking for help. Jason never tought that he would've to help his boyfriend with his ex, but he is, especially because she might die if they don't help her out.
Things are not so great at the moment. And she knows it, that's why she stands in front of her ex boyfriend's apartment door, picking at her nails and looking everywhere but the door. She knows she shouldn't be looking for him, but in the situation that she finds herself, Roy may be the only person that can help her out. Rationality, she knows it's no biggie, showing up and asking for her ex boyfriend, who is a very known vigilante, to save her skin. However, emotionally, she knows it's fucked up. 
Taking a deep breath, she knows it's a bad idea, but she reaches for the door and knocks. Taking a step back, y/n can feel her muscles starting to shake in a nervous fit.
It's been two years since she saw Roy for the last time, and she wonders how much has changed since then. 
The door is open and y/n looks up, to find a tall brunette looking at her with an arched eyebrow. She smiles, trying to be polite. He doesn't smile back.
“Hi! Is this Roy Harper's apartment?” She asks, still picking at her nails and the man in front of her notices.
“Yes” he answers, his voice deep and intimidating and for the first time she knows for a fact that this is more than a bad idea, it's a terrible one. But then again, it's better than dying. 
“Is he home?” The man crosses his big arms over his chest, taking in a more intimidating stance than before.
“Yes” 
He is not the most polite ever, and it's starting to make y/n panic turn into frustration very quickly. 
“Can I talk to him?” the man clicks his tongue, obviously not liking her request. Well, what can she do, a girl needs to try her shot.
“Who is at the door, love?” a familiar voice asks and now she understands. The huge guy in front of her is acting up in a jealous fit. Does he know who she is? Probably. 
“Your ex” he says, and yeah, he knows who she is. 
They can hear steps coming in the direction of the door and a very confused Roy shows up, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and his hair is longer, long enough to be put up in a man bun. Cute.
“Y/n?” He is pale and it seems like he just saw a ghost in front of him. She smiles and gives a tiny wave, not knowing how to act. When she decided to ask Roy for help, she knew that there was the chance for this to happen. A chance to find out about his new partner, a chance that he would look terrified, a chance that he would say no and let her die. Simple stuff.
“Hi, Roy” things are awkward, the three of them looking at each other like idiots.
“What are you doing here?” Roy seems offended that she ever had the guts to show up like this and honestly, she understands him and would deal with this situation in a more aggressive way if it was her in his place. 
“I need your help” she can feel her cheeks burning and her heart rate increase, she feels the sting of a broken nail and her palms are sweating. 
“With what?” Who asks the question is the brunette man, and y/n finally looks at him. He is wearing the same attire as Roy, paired up with a long sleeve black compression shirt, and she realizes how big he actually is. If he wanted to, he could throw her through the stairs of the building with ease. He is scary. 
Instead of actually answering the brunette, she started rambling all of her thoughts to them, feeling her chest tight. 
“I know you told me not to go, I know you said my brain would put me in danger one day and that my smart mouth would kill me and honestly I never believed you, but I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, Roy.” Desperation seeps through her voice, making her look ridiculous but the amount of panic in the woman in front of Roy only sparks his worry. 
“What the fuck did you do?” He asks, taking her wrist and pulling her inside the apartment, practically throwing her in their living room.
“I stumbled across files I should have not stumbled across.” Roy Harper is not a man to worry, unless it's his daughter, Jason or Dinah. Or Y/n.
She was always one to worry about. Always too smart for her own good, always too clever to her own safety, always too curious. She found out way too easily his identity as Arsenal when they were dating. He knew that one day she would have a price over her head.
“What does that mean, y/n?” He is basically yelling at her now, frustrated that she doesn't give him the information he needs. She pouts, hating the fact that Roy is yelling at her.
“It means you were right, ok? I am too curious for my own good and now some rich people want me dead.” 
Fuck it.
Jason didn't see this one coming, not even a thousand miles away. When he woke up this morning, sore from their last mission, he wouldn't have guessed that Roy's most recent ex and only civilian ex, would show up at their doorstep asking for Roy to save her skin from rich people. 
Jason sighs, drawing the attention to him. He closes his eyes, hoping this is some weird dream, but when he opens them again, two pairs of eyes are staring at him. He thanks the gods that Lian is with Alfred. 
“And how could Roy help you?” Jason asks, wondering what is going through this stranger woman's head. 
“As Arsenal, obviously” she says, as if Jason is one dumb fucker, and he can't believe that this is happening. 
“She knows?” Roy shrugs, as if saying ‘I have no control over that’. 
“She found out when we were three months into the relationship” Jason looks at her again, shocked with this new piece of information. He knew they dated for over a year, and also knew how heartbroken Roy was when she left to live in Ireland because of a job opportunity. He didn't know she knew about Arsenal, though. 
“It was actually quite easy to figure it out” she says, her eyes roaming over him, not in a ‘I am attracted to you’ way but in ‘who are you?’ type of way, and that made an uneasy feeling set in Jason's stomach.
“How?” He needs to know how she found out, how her brain works. Jason knows a lot of people, for fucks sake, he knows Tim and Tim found out Robin's identity at the age of nine, not many things shook him, but it's eight in the morning and this woman is definitely weird. 
“I noticed they have the same scar on the left arm” 
Jason's eyes bulge just a little and he looks at his boyfriend, who is looking at the floor, probably embarrassed with how easily a civilian found out his identity. 
“I know” the read head says, clicking his tongue “she is a freak with that brain of hers” 
It's y/n's turn to sigh, rolling her eyes. She looks at Jason again and says, very calmly.
“I knew I could say Roy is Arsenal near you because I firmly believe you already knew. Not because he told you, but because you are like him” the nervous and anxious girl from before is gone and she looks more confident and comfortable, and that uneasy feeling of having someone with a bigger brain than yours in the room comes back to Jason's stomach. 
“And why's that?” Roy chuckles, and Jason looks at him with a quizzical look but the redhead says nothing, just smiles.
“You keep analyzing me, noticing every single move I make. For a guy your size you are very quiet and silent” she point out, numbering everything she says in her manicured fingers “Also, you keep reaching for your thigh, as if you keep looking for a gun in a holster” Y/n points to his hand, resting in his left thigh, and he wants to curse himself. 
“I will make an educated guess and say you are Red Hood, the guy that is always with Arsenal” She says and smiles, tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck that has a hand imprint on it. “You are him, aren't you?” 
Jason nods, not verbally answering her, but he knows there is no use lying since she knows about Roy's identity. What actually sparks his interest is the marks in her neck. She notices him looking and she once again hides her skin from them. Jason looks at Roy, to see if he saw the same as him, and his boyfriend's gaze is focused on y/n neck as well. There is more to this story than she is truly telling, and they know.
“She found out about Dinah in forty minutes in the same room as her.” Roy says, instead of saying something about the purple marks, walking to the kitchen to get a water bottle for himself. 
Jason looks at her, doing exactly what she said he was doing before, but now he takes his time. Analyzing her. Meanwhile, she keeps an eye on Roy, who is not caring at all about the exchange behind him.
Roy turns around, holding his water bottle and looks at the two of them. He drinks all the water with a few gulps, feeling the cold water calm him down to the conversation he will soon have. He really wants to know who is the fucker that tried to choke her to death and left those marks on her smooth skin.
“Come with me” he says, pointing at a very shocked Jason and a very smug y/n to follow him. 
The three of them get in a room decorated to be a study, Roy sits on a couch in the corner of the room and Jason sits next to him, his big arm going around Roy's shoulders.
“Explain yourself, pookie” Roy says and y/n takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts to start explaining herself to the two vigilantes in front of her.
“It all started a few months ago when Campbell Enterprises, the place I worked at, developed a new project. One that was secretive and only a few would participate, the HR did a whole campaign to encourage us to participate in the selective process to choose the ones that would be a part of this new project. I was hoping I was not chosen, honestly, I was fine with the workload I already had at my lab at the time, but it was mandatory to participate” she pauses, taking a deep breath and looking at the window, watching the sun come through. 
“They chose me and a few others to be a part of it, but it was all too secretive, even for us that were working on it. It was tiring, since my regular workload kept coming” she clicks her tongue and blinks, as if she was transported back to the moment that she is telling them about. “One night I stayed later than usual, it was just me in the laboratory, I was tired and annoyed with a few things so I started digging around, just so see if I could see the development of the others that I worked with.”
She blinks again, swallowing tears and looks at them. Roy and Jason are looking at her very attentively, waiting patiently for her to continue. There is no pressure, no tension in the room, just two men looking at her as if she was made of glass and that, for some reason, soothed the pain inside. Y/N is too used to not allowing herself to be fragile, but right now, with Jason and Roy, she feels that she can allow herself to be a little bit vulnerable. 
“That's how I ended up coming across the real motivation of the project. They told us that we were developing a new medicine for kids with cancer, when in fact, we were developing a new drug so they could kidnap children and teenagers with more ease.” There is silence in the room and inevitably, they all thought about Lian, that is safely with Alfred, but she could not be, like many others are not. 
“And they found out you came across those files and that's how you got five fingers in your neck?” Roy asks, arms crossed and a frown between his eyebrows, looking irritated. 
“Not exactly” she says, her right hand going instinctively to her neck, gulping just to remember the touch of that man on her skin. “They found out I knew, but they didn't make it obvious. I knew they would find out eventually and come after me, but until then I thought I could keep living my life.”
Silence reigns the room, the three of them knowing she was just living an illusion until reality came knocking on her door.
“I went out on a date” she says, and that sparks even more their interest. Jason scoffs, not believing what he just heard.
“You knew you had a target on your back and you went on a date?” He asks sarcasm in every word that he says. She nods and Roy looks at her with disbelief in his green eyes.
“I was needy” she simply states, shrugging as if it was not a big of a deal, except it was. “He was a hitman” 
Jason and Roy look at each other, not knowing how to actually react to her words. It all seems so out of this world, especially with the way she tells things, so calmly.
“We were kissing, he grabbed my neck and said that I was too curious, he had a good grip but I had a pocket knife” she is smiling and Jason knows for a fact now that she is crazy.
“So you stabbed him” Roy says, a smirk forming in the corner of his red lips. She nods.
“Didn't kill though, just enough to run away” she looks again at the window and takes a deep breath, “that's how I ended up in an airplane to Gotham. I called Dinah and asked where you lived, she told me you moved to Gotham, gave me your address and that's how I ended up here.”
She looks at them again and they can see in her eyes that she is lost. Desperate. In panic and disbelief of herself. What Jason can't see but Roy can is that Y/n truly believes she is going to die if they don't help her out.
Roy is not happy to have his ex, who broke his heart even if their break up was mutual and mature, standing in front of him. Roy is not happy that Dinah just gave information on him so easily. But he is less happy with the idea of y/n dying. No, he gets angry just with the idea of her not existing anymore. 
And Jason may not know y/n, but he knows his boyfriend. He knows Roy just as well he knows himself and Jason can see it in the redhead's eyes that they will help her out, even if it fails, they will try their best. Jason can also see the care and admiration in Roy's eyes every time he looks at her, it's the same way Roy looks at him. 
Jason will have to swallow his pride and jealousy, because he is going to help his boyfriend's ex to not die.
“We will help you” Roy says, looking at Jason for support and he finds everything he needs in his lover's eyes.
“But with a few conditions” Jason says, now looking at the younger woman. He knows she is younger than them, but now she truly looks like it. The sun is bathing her from her side, making her eyes shine and seem bigger, her lips are painted a glossy red and her cheekbones are chubby and pink. He can't deny, she is adorable and pretty.
“Anything” she says, her lips quivering just slightly. Jason smirks, he knows he is an asshole, but he also gets the job done.
“You will be staying at one of your monitored safe houses, and you won't leave the house, unless one of us is with you.” Roy nods, his gaze focused on her. The redhead forgot how beautiful she looks with her hair down and a turtleneck and he can't stop staring at her now that he noticed. 
“We will make the groceries for you, just give a list. Also only burner phones and not social media” Roy says, and y/n was expecting nothing less than that. She is asking for them to keep her alive and she knows they will do it, even if it means keeping her away from society for a while. 
“And we need all the information that you have” Jason finishes, reclining himself against the couch, relaxing his muscles. 
Y/n stares. She was always curious and when she thinks something - or someone - is pretty, she stares. She didn't look at Jason until she did, and now that she sees what Roy sees, she can't stop looking. 
They are both attractive men, she can't decide which she will take a look at longer, her brain working faster than normal to keep up with everything that she is thinking, from the information that they need to Jason's muscles and Roy's pretty lips.
She knows it's going to be a long ride with those two around her.
4 MONTHS LATER
It  was comfortable to stay hidden from society while Roy and Jason were dealing with the issue she put herself in. It is comfortable to stay in and watch movies, read books and cook whatever she feels like cooking. It is comfortable not having to go out to do her own grocery shopping, since Jason did that for her in the last four months, and he never forgot anything from the list. It is comfortable to have them around all the time, it is comfortable to have Lian over on the weekends to play with dolls and paint ceramics with her.
However she knows it's not going to last any longer. Actually, all this comfortable scenario is over as she stares at Roy and listens to him talk.
“It’s all over, we fixed everything up, you can go back to living your life, pookie” he says, his green eyes shining with something she can’t quite comprehend, but she knows the feeling that is attached to her chest. He is sitting in a chair in front of her, only a table stopping Y/N to reach out and hug him until her heart stops growing with pain.
She got comfortable, she created an illusion for herself once again. They were there almost everyday, talking, making jokes and eating homemade food made by her, she even got to befriend Jason in the first month, just to develop feelings for him in the third. In the second month she already knew she still loved Roy with her whole soul, and seeing him so dedicated to see her safe again only intensified that. 
She can’t explain, really, how she feels. She just knows its different but she loves them both. Roy is like a ray of sunshine that comes through the window, always warm and welcoming, always making her feel important and cared about. He was always good at making her feel like she is the only girl in the world, like she is actually important and easy to love. It's hard to let those feelings for him go, since she can’t get enough of his smile, his green eyes and his stupid jokes. She thinks that deep down, she never stopped loving him. It was like coming home from a long trip, the feeling of having Roy around again was that. His hugs became frequent again and she thinks she can’t let him go, the warmth and the intimacy are just too good and keeps her sane in the difficult days. 
Jason was a surprise. Y/N never thought it was possible to love two people at the same time and in the same intensity, but so differently from each other. At first, she thought she was going crazy with guilt because she still loves Roy, and Jason is his boyfriend. But then, slowly, she realized she fell for him just as hard as she had fallen for Roy. Jason is attentive, caring and even though he is more introverted, he understands her on a deep level. He knows when she is upset before she even acknowledges herself, he always has a good book recommendation and he always helped her in the kitchen when he could.  Lian loves him and he is good with kids just as much as Roy is. He is calm and collected and somehow, he soothes her mind. 
She loves them.
But she is sure they don’t love her back.
“Really?” she questions it, not believing that she can once again live in society without risking herself. 
“Yes” Jason says, he is behind Roy, his arms crossed and he doesn't look at her for longer than what's enough.
“Everything is clean, then?” She questions it once again, fear creeping inside her head, telling that they couldn’t do anything and that she will die if she leaves their embrace.
“Yes, pookie, everything is clean” Y/N nods, pressing her lips together and looking away from them, not knowing how to actually feel. She is happy that she is once again safe, that she can walk around without risking being murdered, that she can talk longer to her parents. But she can feel that pain in her chest, the one telling her this is the last time she will ever talk to them, see them and feel their presence. She is free to go anywhere, but the only place that she wants is not available for her. 
While she sits in sorrow, she doesn’t realize that both men are devastated as well as she is. Roy knew it was possible to love two people at the same time, to want to be romantically with two people at the same time, but it never crossed his mind that he would be living this feeling so intensely. He loves Jason with his soul, he would die for his boyfriend and kill just anyone Jason asked him to kill. But he can’t deny that he also loves Y/N, she is everything he could possibly want and not deserving to have. Her smile, her scent, her eyes, her lips, her body, her hair, everything in her was an invitation to his heart. Roy loves her with his heart, he would do anything for her too, he just did. He killed for her last night just to be sure she would be fine. He doesn’t want to let go, but if that's what she wants, he will do it. 
Jason was always skeptical about feelings until he fell for Roy, and he fell hard. He loves Roy more than he could ever be possible, he would take Roy in his worst days just as much as he would take Roy in his good days, and he would go against the world to see his boyfriend happy and calm. Jason stopped drug dealing because he thought it was disrespectful with Roy since he is clean and healthy after a long period of darkness. He takes care of all the things Roy doesn’t want to and he is nice to people that once hurt him because he wants to be good for his boyfriend and to Lian. It never occurred to him that he could possibly fall for Y/N during this time working for her safety. But he did.  And it was embarrassing. He could not look at her longer than a few minutes or his mind would drift to scenarios they would never live, and then he would feel guilt eating him up. Jason was going crazy over his feelings for this woman, she was diabolical with the way she made him feel. The way she would make him blush with a brush of fingers while cooking, the way she would make his chest warm with happiness when she smiled at him and the way she would make him feel euphoric when she complimented something about him. She was diabolical, and that's why in the last month he told Roy about his feelings.
Jason remembers how long the talk was, and he was not shocked to know that Roy still loves her and he truly understands the readhad, it's easy to love Y/N. Her ramblings about things she likes, the way she walks on the tip of her toes when happy, the way her hair falls over her eyes when she is focused. Jason feels like he is not some monster around her, she makes him feel light and makes him forget about all the vigilante stuff, he feels normal around her and good, he feels good. She makes it seem it's easy to be around him. 
They agreed to let her go if it was truly what she wanted, but if she decided to stay, they already talked about asking her out on a date, with both of them. If she didn’t want them both, they agreed that they would move on. It was the three of them together or nothing.
“What are you going to do now?” Roy asks, voice hoarse trying to keep the tears away. The young woman shrugs, her gaze on the wall next to her, deep in thoughts Roy couldn’t imagine what is about.
“A penny for your thoughts, sweets” Jason says, once again looking at her, he can feel the dread polling at his stomach and he just wants to hold her until she gets tired of him and Roy. 
“Thinking about my mom and my dad” she says, finally looking at them with tears stuck in her bottom lashes, making her look like a crying angel in the dim light of the kitchen. 
“Are you going to stay with them until you find another job?” the redhead questions, his fingers tapping lightly at the table, a clear sign of anxiety. 
“Yeah, I think I will,” she says softly, her shoulders drooping and her head falling, somehow hiding her face from the vigilantes in front of her. 
“Nice” Jason says, his voice thick with something not even him can say what it is, but he knows it’s not a good feeling. He feels like he is losing her without trying to actually have her in the first place. “They must miss you”
“They do,” she answers Jason quickly, trying to stop the conversation in its tracks, but it looks like he won’t bite the bullet.
“Where do they live, again?” the brunette asks, not wanting to stop because if they stop talking he won’t be listening to her voice. 
“New York City” 
Jason clicks his tongue not knowing what to say anymore so he looks at Roy, expecting to see the redhead formulating a plan to keep her around longer, but there is only acceptance in this eyes and Jason knows he lost the battle, he knows she would be leaving soon to NYC and if he tries to stop her, Roy wouldn’t help. Not because he doesn’t love her, but because he isn’t the type to hold people where they don’t want to be. 
Roy gets up and smiles fondly at Y/N, hiding his true feelings behind a mask. “If you need anything, just call us.”
She smiles, a tiny one, and nods again understanding that she is not wanted around when in fact what they wanted more is for her to stay with them.
“See you around, boys” she says, leaving for the bedroom that will no longer be hers in the morning.
533 notes · View notes
k4lenz · 9 months ago
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HIII, can i request hobie x reader nsfw but its not like all rough n stuff .. its gentle & caring basically “making love” or wtv from hobie’s POV
-🧼
making love ✮ hobie brown x fem!reader
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a/n: HIII!! this is such a cute idea thankyou ! guys i <3 🧼 my requests r open if you like this content!!! word count: 1.4k!!! notes: soft, SMUT!!!, affectionate, 'making love', hobies pov, praise, bro is down bad n pussy whipped but also loves everything about you n would do anything for you, he's a cutie, unprotected, he nibbles on ya, established relationship?, bro wants to warm you up *eyebrow wiggle*, no use of y/n, praise ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 You were gorgeous. At least, that was the first thought running through Hobie's mind as you whimpered beneath him. You were both wrapped up in the blankets of your bed, it was a freezing cold night like usual in the UK, and you were cuddled up together for warmth. He'd wrapped his arms around you the minute he saw you shiver, and he'd even made you a warm drink earlier. "Ya cold, innit? Drink up. How's this gon' warm ya up? D'ya not trust me, honey?" He hated seeing you cold. You'd call him your heat pack, your teddy bear, more often then not, and he'd laugh it off but secretly? He liked it. He wanted to be your comfort. He loved being able to stay in with you, it was like all his worries and responsibilities faded away. He wasn't Spider-Punk, he was just Hobie. Nothing about the outside world came in between you two in the moments shared together. He'd claimed earlier, after you said that you were still freezing to death and his drink didn't work, that he knew the perfect way to warm up. So now here you were. He laid on top of you, you both wore pyjamas but he was softly rolling his hips against your own. Eliciting a soft shudder to run down your spine. He chuckled deeply against your skin, starting to tug down your pyjama pants. Lowering and pressing a slow kiss to your underwear teasingly, making you squirm as his lips applied pressure against your clit through the cloth. "So pretty, doll. You don't even realize it.." His cockney accent was soothing to your ears, he knew you had a certain fondness for it and he enjoyed teasing you with it. Let it be random whispers in your ear with filthy words, coming up behind you in the kitchen and murmuring a simple 'I love you'. Anything, really. He kissed along your thighs too, watching your eyes fog with lust. He liked making you react so well. "Hobie." You whined, and he found it adorable. You were irresistible.
"Mhm?" He had to stifle a laugh, you just looked so cute. "Please." And who was he to deny you? He pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift movement, his two-toned lips peppering your face with sweetness as you scrunched up, giggling a little. He couldn't help but look at you adoringly, you were just so.. Cute? Sweet? Everything he'd ever dreamed of? He smiled fondly, unable to take his eyes off of you. You smiled back. He pulled your underwear down teasingly, fanning his breath on your body as you made yourself more comfortable on the bed. Both of your clothes since discarded on the floor, neither of you were thinking about them of course. Hobie moved a little closer to you with a wink. He liked the contact, physical affection was his love language. His hands slowly parted your legs, always giving you a look to see if anything had changed in your expression or if you were feeling uncomfortable. Soothingly smoothing his hand over your thigh until he knew you were ready. He rubbed his throbbing hard-on up and down your slit, the tip catching on your clit and making you gasp. He slowly eased himself into your slick cunt with a pleased sigh until his hips met yours. Bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, meant for each other. Soaking in your moan as he stretched you just like he had many times before, admiring you roll your eyes to the very back of your skull. "Ready, sweet lil'thing? Ay?" He observed you barely manage a "Y-Yeah." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he started to push in and out so gently, his cock rubbing your cervix perfectly. And he knew it, smugly, because all he had to do was look at you to see the pleasure written on your pretty face. Rolling his hips back and sliding into you at a slow pace so he could hit all the right spots. This didn't need to be quick or rough, you two just needed each other. This wasn't just sex, it was soft and intimate. It was making love. You let out a whimper into his mouth as he thrusted steadily, but particularly deep. He groaned against your warm skin, obsessed with the way you felt against him. "Good girl, dove.." Neither of you felt a need to rush, more to be in the moment. He ran his hands along your hips, feeling your smooth skin. The only thing on his mind was you and your pretty little cunt.
Your lips were parted, taking heavy breaths. He listened to your breaths and watched you melt. He felt like he'd won the lottery with you. "Feelin' good?" He whispered in your ear, smiling and listening to your soft moans as he fucked you unrushed and good. It'd been a while since he'd been able to do it like this, you were both busy lately. Him being a famous vigilante, you with work. But you'd always make time for each other, and spend it in the right ways. "So good, Hobie— Mmmhh.." He felt your words echo through him, and your hands resting on his chest. Not digging your nails into his skin, just resting there feeling his heartbeat. Your body sinking into the bed and your eyes fluttering closed as you both really got into it. "Love ya, Shit. Love ya 's much." He mumbled, pressing kisses along your jawline and lower to your neck affectionately. The coil in his stomach slowly winding as your pussy clenched around his dick. He nibbled the skin of your neck when you clenched on purpose, watching you react gleefully with a giggle cut off by a moan. His own large hands rubbing up and down your waist, the cool metal of his silver rings against your heated flesh making you squirm. One of his hands traveled down, his thumb starting to gently stroke your clit so he could hit your cervix at the same time. Eliciting a mewl from you, which is all he wanted, really. He could tell the deliberate pace he was taking was driving you insane in all the right ways, he knew you loved when he did it like this. It was fuzzy and intimate, genuinely sweet and caring. Almost relaxing, like there was nothing else in the world but the echoes of your sounds mixing together in the bedroom walls. Your eyes quickly opening as you reached the brink of your orgasm. "Close.." You panted, rolling your head back. And he grinned. Your neck stretching back and complexion glistening with a bit of sweat. You were so god damn wet for him too, the only word he could use to describe you was ethereal. Hair messy, body stretched out, legs wrapped around his waist for the perfect positioning. Could this get any better? "That's adorable. You can do it, babygirl. Be good and come all over my cock. Hm?" He massaged your clit more, your thighs trembling as he pushed you over that edge you so desperately needed. Seeing your hips roll back in ecstasy? It drove him insane. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck.. H-Hobie! Ah!" You chanted, slurring a mix of his name and curses. Tightening hard enough around him as your orgasm hit for him to release too, grunting and spilling himself deep inside you. Pleasure racking through both of your bodies in waves as he rested on your chest. Slowly fucking you through both his and your orgasm with sloppy wet thrusts. Panting for air.
"Am I.. really that good luv?" He chuckled as you panted for air, although his tone was breathless as well. Leaving hickeys in his wake as he nipped and sucked at your skin. "Shut up, Hobes." You laughed, pulling him into you and moving so you were laying on the bed fully together and intertwined. It was practically impossible for you two to get any closer.
"Y'warm now?" "Absolutely. I'd say that's my new favorite way of warming up." He heard your voice get sleepier with each syllable. He'd be more then happy to lay like this for the rest of the night, and so he did. Minutes passing by like seconds. Staring at your relaxed blissed out face as your head rested on the pillow, eyes shut."G'night." He whispered, even though you were already fast asleep in his arms. He was slowly lulled to sleep by the sound of your breath and the rain softly pattering against the window.
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apricot-blossomss · 1 month ago
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would it be okay to ask for maybe A dionysus/hermes/Apollo x Reader?
The gods just love giving reader multiple praises to the point it completely overwhelms them/pos
(seperate please!)
the greek gods showering mortal!f!reader in praise [apollo, hermes, dionysus x reader]
sfw, cw: mentions of a praise kink, not proofread
feels good to finally upload again, I hope I'll find more time to write next week!
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APOLLO
There was perhaps no greater blessing for you personally than listening to Apollo sing, and once one witnessed him, they would find themselves aggreing with you. Which was why you had no objection when Apollo interrupted your little make out session on his settee to ask you wether he could play a song for you. Quite the opposite, actually. But now, you almost regretted it, because you felt like your head was about to explode.
His golden eyes were locked to yours, making you unable to turn your head and hide from the might of his words. Endless praise and adoration fell from his lips in the most beautiful melody. You suddenly realized you were crying, but you made no attempt to wipe the tears away as you were frozen in place, growing hotter by the minute. With newfound intensity, Apollo recited the next verses, lips pulled into a little smile as he flooded your poor helpless mind with words of devotion.
You couldn't do this any longer, you buried your burning face in your hands, overwhelmed by his divine love. The way each word sounded so genuine you began to doubt the very existence of the lie. Nearly shaking, you pulled your legs to your chest and whined. "Oh gods, please stop, it's too much!"
A soft coo made you look back up at him as Apollo played some closing strings and put the lyre aside to pull you into his lap, right were the lyre had sat. Hiding your face in your chest, you attempted to conceal the deep red of your cheeks. "You can't just say stuff like that," you muffled into his tunic and a soft rumble made his chest vibrate.
"Like what?" he asked, caressing your hidden face with his index finger before placing it underneath your chin, guiding your face up to look at him. "It's all true. Every time I look at you, my sunshine, I am lifted, gazing upon a masterpiece that must've been sculpted by a god. Or perhaps, you are your own artist?" Apollo allowed himself a little grin when you let out a loud whine and slapped his chest. Gently, his fingers closed around your wrist as he guided it to his lips to trail kisses up your arm.
"Your smile could rival the warmth of spring itself—it awakens my heart as surely as the season revives the earth." His words were blooming as always, masterfully crafted sentences praising you, as his lips, hushed into a soft whisper, trailed up your arm. "No lyre could ever match the harmony of your laughter. My music is a mere attempt to echo your perfection. You are as brilliant as all the stars of the night sky. Every word you speak is a melody to my ears, every thought of yours a revelation."
His lips reached your shoulder, making their way to your throat that was taken over by a bright pink tone, it felt like your whole body blushed, like the pink blossoms in spring. "You're going to be the death of me," you said breathlessly, burying your hands in his hair and keeping his head in place in the crook of your neck, so he couldn't talk any more of his charming words.
Apollo laughed into your neck, it muffled the sound but couldn't lessen the melody of it. A shuddering breath left your lips as you pulled him closer, and though they flustered you, you savored his words, remembering every little phrase to keep in your heart forever.
HERMES
Gods curse the day Hermes found out you had a praise kink. Because ever since he had realized how much his compliments flustered you, he exploited it maliciously. Humming sweet praises into your ear when you were going about your day and doing the most mundane things, leaving you blushing and spluttering as he retracted with a cackle. Giving you the sweetest compliments anytime he would find you unsuspecting, with your guard down, and utterly humiliating you as your heart would start to race and all you could muster up were weak stutters of embarrassment.
So, when he plopped down on the couch next to you, stretching his limbs after a long day of godly duties and regarding you with that cheeky, mischievous smile, you knew what ideas formed in his head, as if you were able to read his thoughts. Immediately, your flight instinct kicked in as you retreated into the kitchen as quickly as possible- though not fast enough. In the blink of an eye, the sneaky god had caught up to you and dragged you back into the couch with him, pulling you into his lap.
His nose nudged your chin and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "How's my beautiful girlfriend doing today?" Ignoring your petty kicking, he giggled. "You know I'm faster than you, you know I know my way around you- though, you know, you’ve got this spark about you—like you could talk your way out of anything. It’s kind of my thing, but I think you do it better."
"You're insufferable," you sighed, though you felt your cheeks heat up embarrassingly. When his fingers trailed over your stomach, you squeaked and pushed them away, making Hermes throw back his head in a loud laugh. For a moment, you were mesmerized by him- the sound of his laugh, the bounce of his curly hair, the way his face lit up, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks pink. Then, he started talking once more.
"I used to think of myself as the best of thieves," Hermes sighed, drawing circles on your thigh. "But you outdo my trickery, love, as you have stolen my heart away from right under my nose." Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush, you thought to yourself, but you knew you were as red as a tomato by now. Stuttering out protests, you felt your stomach constrict in the best way and tried to wiggle out of his arms, a fruitless attempt.
Turning your head, you glared at him, but only got a cheeky smile in return. Hermes tipped his hat and chuckled. "Gods, you're so hot when you're mad." You gave him a deadpan stare and his smile only widened. "And so cute when you're blushing like this. Honestly, sweetheart, I think you could make everything more sexy."
In a final attempt to cut him off before you could make a complete fool of yourself (even more so than you'd already done), you crashed your lips into his. And of course, Hermes would never deny you, so his eager hand shot up to cup your face and tilt it in order to get a better angle to kiss you completely senseless on his lap.
Little did he know, you had been waiting for this moment of weakness. With his hands busying themselves with cradling your face, you jumped out of his lap, evaded his reaching arms and ran upstairs, laughing breathlessly. Of course, he could've caught up with you in an instance, but Hermes seemed determined to give you a fair chase, because when you reached the highest stair, you could hear his voice, still from downstairs.
"Baby, I think that was just about the hottest thing I ever saw."
DIONYSUS
"No cuddles with that breath" you protested, dismissing your lover's drunken attempts to wrap his arms around you. Whining, Dionysus forced himself halfway into your lap, in spite of your slapping at his chest and arms, looking up at you with dreamy eyes, glazed over by the effect of whatever alcohol emitted its odeurs from his mouth. Rolling your eyes, you attempted to shove him off. "If you want to bother someone, go and hang out with your brothers."
"Nooo," Dioynsus gave a long, drawn out protest and you found yourself lamenting how he could be a thousand years old and this childish at the same time. "You are more fun," the god pouted, squinting up at you. You complimented yourself on showing no reaction whatsoever on the outside, but your insides secretly did somersaults.
"If you want fun, why don't you throw a party?" you said dismissively, flicking his temple to which he responded with another whine. At your words, a drunken little smile creeped onto his face. "You make everything more fun, even doing nothing. I swear, you’re better than wine… and that’s saying something."
"If I'm better than wine, how come that's what you have been drinking for the last hours?" you asked with a raised brow. With a genuinely shocked expression, Dionyuss shot up and stared at you wide-eyed. "You're right. I should have been drinking you, you are so much sweeter-"
Groaning, you buried your face in a pillow, considering to suffocate yourself before he could see the blush on your cheeks. Then again, how receptive could he be, in his state? Turns out, very receptive. When you discarded the pillow, his eyes hushed over the pink on your cheeks and he cooed. "Aw, baby, do you like it when I tell you how sweet you are?"
Ignoring your stubborn but whispered 'no thank you', Dionysus threw an arm around your shoulder, continuing to brabble compliments and praises into your ear. Embarrassingly, your cheeks burned even more and the god laughed joyfully.
"Baby, the way you blush... I’ve seen people lose their minds over less."
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