#not entirely happy with the finished product but I made it like
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“Jesus Christ you stupid bitch”
smack
that smack broke skin. You don’t feel it
“Do you know how much fucking paperwork I have to do when you file those stupid requests for surgeries??”
smack
mouths full of blood now, left shoulder ammunition on 85%-no that’s the other body… you don’t have your missile-wings now
“A form to deny it, a form to explain why, a MILLION forms to report your mental state to the psyches so they can update the simulations, it’s a fucking hassle”
“b-but”
CRACK
there goes a rib
“Yeah yeah ‘whaaaaa handler im such a good pilot’ yes. You fucking ARE. And because of that I’ll let you in on a secret you mutt. You’re never getting those surgeries”
Reality comes crashing back
Suddenly the world is in crystal focus and the pain floods back into you like molten iron in your nerves
“We fucking WANT you like this you dumb fuck, pilots are better when they’re dissociated and dysphoric. The only reason you’re even allowed to request them is so we can crush your dreams again. You’re a weapon. Not a human girl. And im sick of hearing you whine about this”
you tried so hard you’re the best pilot this unit has you just wanted a reward you wanted to get rid of this thing that haunts your body to feel at home you wanted-
A final kick to your slumped body leaves the CRACK of a broken nose reverberating through your head
you can’t feel it
A pair of hands throw you into a resting pod, with a final punch to the stomach for good measure
“Stop your whimpering and go to sleep. Briefing early tomorrow”
somehow the last words hurt most
“Rest up for us, my pretty girl”
#empty spaces#mech pilot#ah this idea. it’s been in my head for months#not entirely happy with the finished product but I made it like#30 seconds after waking up
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FINISHED WORK?? on MY page??? it's far less likely than you'd think. and yet, somehow, here we are. :D
(well, finished enough to post and call "done", i should say. i may yet meddle with some details when i inevitably notice ten more flaws immediately after posting :D)
good old moss knight, such a devout follower of big slug. surely no wandering knight would ever end such a noble creature's life before he had the chance to speak with a certain fellow at a nearby bench! :D
this was essentially just me testing the waters with digital after some time avoiding it, and especially colours/lighting. it's been a while since i actually tried to make something fully fleshed out like this. i don't know, i feel like it could have come out worse :)
#inktober#inktober 2023#art#artists on tumblr#my art#digital art#krita#hollow knight#moss knight#greenpath#lake of unn#stuff i'm actually somewhat proud of#!! incoherent jumble of words incoming !!#this took entirely too long to finish. i am officially burnt out for the time being and will be returning to a slower rate of production :)#so yeah. gonna be likely stopping inktober here for the year D:#seriously each day was just getting more and more stressful. and i have not been happy with the last few days. so today's the finale! :D#and i can no longer allocate 1-2 hours per day to come up with something different while balancing everything else going on right now :/#it sucks to have to say that but i'm still glad i made it most of the way. this was my first inktober and i definitely was not ready.#but i had a ton of fun with it!! just need to slow down a bit. for my own sake :)#thus concludes my lengthy tags rambling. i put a lot into this project! (even though i know it's not great) i hope you like it :)#thank you for indulging my scattered and incoherent stream of consciousness. now i'm done rambling for good this time :D
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relax
in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment
18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!
You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light.
“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look.
“Hello to you too...”
“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?”
“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?”
“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.
“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest.
“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!”
“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and--
“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.
“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening.
“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look.
“I’m literally offering to help you.”
“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?”
Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.
“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air.
“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.”
“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.
The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.
“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters.
You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...
But the essay...
“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands.
“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled.
“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.”
“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”
Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.
“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently.
Oh?
One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face.
“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down.
“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously.
“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.”
Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?
You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush.
“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”
“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...
“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies.
“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-”
“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh.
“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly.
“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.”
Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up.
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?”
Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More?
“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right.
But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.
An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?”
You flush.
“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.
Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.
“I made you cum three times, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear.
“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.”
You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh.
“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.”
You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.
“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.
He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body.
“Who’s that for?”
“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.
Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan.
“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable.
Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in.
“Look at that,” he breathes.
“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them.
Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.
“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance.
“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more.
“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.
You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it.
“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently.
“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather.
“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!”
“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit.
“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well.
“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.”
You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.
“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming.
A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want.
The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.
“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster.
His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.
Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest.
“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.”
Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry.
A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins.
Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip.
“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying.
“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down.
You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.
“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.
“Feel better?”
You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt.
“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?”
You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.”
“What kind of tears?”
“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you.
“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—”
Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds imagine
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hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb
that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
The night had been one for the books.
Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.
He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.
Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.
Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.
"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.
"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"
Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.
It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.
"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."
"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."
"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."
The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.
"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."
Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.
Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.
You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.
And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.
And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.
“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.
“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.
Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.
"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.
"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.
"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”
You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.
"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"
You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.
"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."
The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.
"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."
Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.
"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.
"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."
The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.
"Home it is, then."
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles headcanon#harry styles fic#harry styles au#harry styles fake social media#harry styles story#harrysfolklore#harry styles masterlist#harry styles fic rec#harry styles grammy#1k
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𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]
ᴹⁱⁿᵒʳˢ ᴰᴺᴵ! | ᔆᵐᵘᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ | ᴬʳᵗ ᵇʸ⠘ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Kenji will always be very sweet. No matter how stupid he made you after sex, he will treat you gently and help you get back on your feet. He will clean you up first and then himself and he will be happy to take a shower together if you are okay with it. Although he is a bit of a fussy person so it is 100% certain that he will not go to sleep without changing the sheets for new ones. For your comfort and his, and he might put some air freshener in the air lol.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I feel like Kenji is very proud of his entire body, but especially his arms and torso. Have you seen that broad back? That man is to die for and he knows it, that's why he loves sleeping shirtless and teasing you. As for you, he loves everything about you, but he definitely has a fixation on your thighs and touching your ass whenever he gets the chance.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He's open to possibilities as long as you are too. Besides cumming inside you, he likes to do it for some reason where a few drops get on your strands of hair or a few drops run down your collarbones. He has a habit of teasing you by kissing you after taste you, so you'll taste yourself on his lips.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He's fantasized about doing things with you in his Ultraman form, why? Because yes. It's really nothing more than a fantasy because not even his pinky finger could fit inside you, but imagining you so small and needy in the palm of his hand has made his thoughts go beyond the limits he thought he knew.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Nothing. Kenji has no prior experience, not even a little. As famous and handsome as he is, we know that he suffered from bullying in his childhood years which affected his social skills so if I can't imagine him with friends, much less having encounters of that kind. His first time with you was an adorable disaster but you took care of making him feel safe always and over time he managed to improve his technique quite a bit.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any one where he can see your face but is also addicted to you riding him or if he's too needy he'll let you on top and spread his legs for you to do whatever you want.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
It depends on his mood. He usually acts normal but if he wants to tease you or is really excited he might tell a couple of dirty jokes to make you blush.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This man is a total grooming person. I can see a shelf in his shower full of hair products, aftershave, skin moisturizers and all that stuff so yes, Kenji pays attention to detail and if he isn't completely shaved there will always be a neat, impeccable trim. You're never going to see a mess down there. Ever.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
There are times when you two are too horny to get romantic but that doesn't mean it's just sex without love. But, when he's truly focused on making love to you in every sense of the word, he's the most romantic man in the world. He makes you feel like you're on cloud nine with his soft caresses and kisses, his words are so deep that when you both finish, you end up seeing everything in rose-colored glasses and even loving your insecurities after he completely praised you from the bottom of his heart.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I don't see Kenji doing this kind of thing, he's a mature adult and quite busy too so if he ever did it, it was in puberty out of pure curiosity. Now he has you so if he's horny he knows you can always help him and if he's lonely he'll just get moody.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
I think after taking care of Emi and researching parenting and fatherhood issues he had some praise kinks left, but nothing serious. He doesn't show it anywhere other than the bed and you discovered it little by little on your own when he told you things like how he was eager to fill you with his seed and how excited it made him to think of you carrying his baby in you one day. Whenever you bring it up he doesn't completely deny it but it's because he's a little embarrassed to admit it.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Nothing like the comfort of his bed or yours but he's open to new places to make it more exciting. Places like his basement or the stadium locker room when the team has left have been the perfect spots for a quickie.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
He likes you touching him, your hands are his weakness. Also for some reason when you are dressed up nicely, like clothes he is not used to seeing you in for example a skirt and heels to go to work or a nice dress for an event. He always thinks "is that my girlfriend?" and feels the need to rip your clothes off already.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn't agree with the idea of hurting you so he's against BSDM. If you were to ask him to do something related (like asking him to hit you or call you names) he would try to do it at first to fulfill your whim but after a while he would feel uncomfortable and maybe not want to continue. Maybe what he would tolerate a little longer would be to call you names just by seeing your intense reactions and they would be mild words like "slut" or "bitch".
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As I mentioned before, he is inexperienced in person until after a couple of times. He likes to receive but he prefers thousands of times to give. The feeling of your folds against his tongue and your pussy between his lips is indescribable for him. He loves to grab you by the thighs and wrap his arms around your legs while he gets lost between your crotch for hours being blessed with the sound of your voice before his actions.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It will also depend on his mood. A happy, romantic, sweet Kenji who longs to spend time with you after a long week at work will be deep and slow but careful. But a Kenji who is stressed out from losing so many games, fighting with players from other teams and tired of being a baby kaiju's single mother and breaking his back being Ultraman will throw you on the mat face down and grab onto your hips to pound you like there’s no tomorrow and then flip you over to put your knees on his shoulders because you’re dumb enough to do it on your own (of course you’re okay with all of this).
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He is a fan of quickies, he couldn't live without them. He tends to have mental breakdowns more often than you think and between so many games, interviews and training sessions he sometimes comes home too tired to do it slowly and formally, so you can also offer him several quickies a week so that they are little breaks for him and he can de-stress and continue.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He has a slight interest in doing it where he can get caught, like the time where his hands got too far with you in the stadium locker room before a game and his teammates were feet away getting ready in the hallway outside.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He is a professional athlete who is used to hours of training, cardio and all that stuff. His average is 3-4 rounds when he feels mentally stable and physically rested. You usually ends up with pain in your lower back and the back of your knees.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't have any toys and he wouldn't use them on himself. If he ever bought one it would be to use it with you so you could both experience something new together.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He likes to embarrass you but in a good way. Maybe he'll mention things about how desperate you are or how abundant your release was today with just a few touches. This man's ego is big and it expands to the sky when he can see you under him sweaty and moaning his name repeatedly so it's the perfect setting for him to joke around in more egotistical and arrogant ways with you to make you blush.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
If you're in a completely safe and alone place, Kenji will never shut his mouth. He's unconsciously very expressive in that aspect and will say whatever he wants and needs to say, even if something bothers him. His tone of voice is thicker and more desperate as if he's throwing little tantrums asking for more from you. Sometimes it confuses you when he claims that you're too tight around him. Is he complaining or is he grateful for it?
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He loves to make dirty calls with you when you are at home and he is away from you. He feels very proud of himself knowing the power he has over you and how he manages to make you wet even when he is not present, calling you with some dirty nicknames that he saves just for you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's not too far from average. When the baby is asleep he's pretty normal sized although still noticeable in tight jeans or his Ultraman form. But when the baby wants action he's maybe an inch or an inch and a half taller than average. Kenji is a tall, thin young man so his strengths would be more length than girth.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
In the middle, not too low or too desperate. Although sometimes his thoughts are the ones to blame for making him feel horny and that's when he asks you for help to solve it, but on a scale of 1-10 I'd leave it at 7. He knows when it's more prudent to let himself go and when not to.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He won't fall asleep until you do unless he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is sleep in your arms right after he's cum. If he's tired enough to sleep on the same sheets you two made out with earlier.
#kenji sato smut#kenji sato x you#kenji sato x reader#kenjisato#kenji x reader#kenji sato#ken sato#ken sato x reader#ken sato x you#ken sato x y/n#ken sato smut#ultraman rising#ultraman ken#ultraman x reader
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✰ HEART STEALER
summary: whilst on your vacation in fontaine you accidentally end up in jail. luckily, a certain someone is going to make your trip down to the fortress worthwhile
pairing: wriothesley x gn!reader
genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers sort of
word count: 6.2k
notes: not proofread, reader isn’t from fontaine and works in mondstadt (hints at reader working with albedo), reader is also a bit slow and wriothesley isn't any help, set after archon quest
after spending four days down at the fortress of meropide, you could confidently say it sucked.
the accommodations, the food, the people, the faint smell of oil and grease always lingering around, it was a major downgrade from the hotel you had been staying in previously.
you had originally come to fontaine for a vacation that your boss back in mondstadt insisted you needed. and now you were going to have to spend most of it in prison.
all you had done, was eat ketchup on its own. that’s all. nothing more, nothing less, it wasn't even that big of a deal. when you had finished your dinner at the hotel one day, there was some remaining ketchup left. you weren't going to let it go to waste so, naturally, you ate the ketchup on its own.
never would you have thought such a law to exist, and even so you never would have deemed it a heinous crime. and yet, during the trial at the opera epiclese the fontainians made you seem like a heartless villain.
sighing you sat down at the coupon cafeteria at an empty table placing your free meal down. it already reeked.
by the time my twenty-day sentence is over, i’ll only have three days of my vacation left... you thought.
in the fortress of meropide, the inmate that led you on your tour upon first arriving explained that you would have to work in the 'production zone' everyday and you only got one free welfare meal a day.
with that information you decided it'd be best to skip out on breakfast and dinner and have your meal at lunch. all your other time you spent working in the production zone under grainville's supervision. the work was at least easier than all the expeditions in dragonspine you'd have to go on with your boss.
that, essentially, was your routine for the four days you had spent here. you didn't want to get in trouble again for some stupid reason so you made sure to keep to the rules.
opening your welfare meal for the day, you were met with the same disgusting grey sludge that had greeted you yesterday and the day before. you immediately put the lid back on.
since you had step foot in the fortress, you hadn’t eaten a single thing and you honestly felt famished. it wasn’t your fault that everything was practically inedible.
you rested your chin on your hand, sighing yet again for the nth time today. you were considering just skipping lunch entirely, it wasn't like you were eating anything anyway.
when you first stepped foot in the fortress, you told yourself you should try and make the most out of your trip here, think of it as an experience, an extra vacation. but it was as if there was something you were missing.
most of the other inmates looked as if they were living the life down at the fortress of meropide. your isolated table was surrounded by others who were happily chatting away, with scrummier meals than you as well.
am i doing something wrong? how can anyone be genuinely happy here?
you thought, pushing away you’re own meal box in disgust and staring longingly at someone else’s meal that looked as if it belonged in hotel debord. the sight alone was enough to fill a fraction of the hunger inside you.
i guess this will just have to do...
“not a fan of the food, huh?” a voice suddenly spoke and you jumped slightly looking up to see a man sitting opposite you on your once lonely table.
one glance at the man and you already knew you did not want to deal with him. you had already ran into a couple of inmates, they either ignored you because they didn’t care or gave you a hard time just because.
this man, looked as if he was ready to do the latter.
well, i shouldn’t judge a book by it's cover…
he had messy black hair with grey streaks along with piercing blue eyes. with the way his arms were crossed you could see his muscles flex but also the various scars on them. he also had numerous scars around his neck and one just underneath his right eye.
you’d be lying if you said he was unattractive, you definitely would've noticed someone like him by now so you wondered why you hadn't seen him before.
“well, maybe i’d eat it if it at least looked edible.” you responded watching him in front of you, still taking in his whole appearance.
maybe... he's new here too? why else would he come talk to me?
at your response the man raised a brow, taking in your features. as his eyes scanned across your attire and up to your face, they eventually landed on your own as he stared right through you. his gaze pierced through you and you nearly shuddered from the intimidation.
you also noticed the looks and hushed whispers that other inmates were giving him once he had sat on your table. perhaps people had been giving him a hard time.
"um," you gulped "are you new here?" you asked. maybe he didn't have any friends like you, that would explain why he came and sat on your table all of a sudden.
he stared at you a while longer before giving you a lazy smile and leaning forward slightly. “yeah i am, are you?”, he asked.
"i mean i joined here four days ago so i guess... what's your name?" you asked smiling back, maybe he wasn't as scary as he looked.
he was silent for a bit as he looked down, it was as if he was contemplating whether he should tell you or not. you stared at him expectantly awaiting his answer.
"wriothesley." he said eventually.
"wriothesley." you repeated, "well, i'm (y/n). i may not know a lot about this place but if you need anything i can try my best to help." you smiled warmly at him.
he smiled back, well more it was more of a smirk, but either way there was a glint of something in his eye that you noticed but couldn't quite put your finger on.
—————
after your little chat with wriothesley at lunch, the two of you parted ways and you headed to the production zone to work until bed time.
when you headed to your room, you got ready for bed and tucked yourself in, closing your eyes so that you could allow sleep to engulf you.
except it never did, and you laid in your bed for hours waiting for the sleep to come.
after a while it eventually rolled to 1am, it was dead silent apart from the constant sound of cogs whirring giving the fortress a more of an eerie feel as you slipped out of your bed.
you trudged towards the lift and made your way to the bottom floor, planning on just sitting at the coupon cafeteria for a while basking in the silence. that's when you stumbled upon the place to find that someone was already there.
the same man from earlier sat in the dim light at the same table from earlier with a teacup to his lips peacefully drinking away, eyes closed. a matching teapot was upon the table and sweet smell of tea wafted throughout.
the rich and sweet aroma was nearly intoxicating, and for someone who hadn't eaten properly in the past few days you felt as if you were hypnotised.
at first you observed from a distance, comtemplating whether or not you should confront him. would he let you try some if you asked? you would have to remember his name first...
wriother... wriothesee... wriothesley? wriothesley! that was it!
"wriothesley?" you called out to the fellow inmate as he opened his eyes to meet yours. he help the cup away from his lips briefly and spoke up.
"oh, evening (y/n)." he acknowledged giving you a small nod, as you made your way to sit opposite him.
"why are you drinking tea out in the open? the guards are going to catch you." you asked while he merely shrugged and set his cup down.
"the guards end their watch night duty at twelve." he stated.
oh, i didnt know that.
"i could ask you the same though. what are you doing wandering around at one in the morning?" he asked, glancing at you.
"i just... couldn't sleep that's all." you said turning your head slightly.
you eyes trailed down to the cup that now rested on the table, noticing how the steam frrom the cup swirled and how the smell was even sweeter now that you were close. wriothesley saw all of this.
"...would you like a sip?" he eventually asked watching the way your eyes gazed on his teacup.
at his words you shot your head up to face him properly.
"really? can i?" your eyes practically lit up which he also took note off, he chuckled before pushing the teacup forward in your direction so that it was in front of you.
you grinned at him before taking the cup in your hands, not too bothered about the fact that you were using the same one as him.
you proceeded to take a sip and it tasted ten times better than the smell. the heat from the drink brought warmth inside of you and the flavours had a sense of familiarity.
the warm hot tea that your boss would usually give you in the little cave in the freezing depths of dragonspine was what first crossed your mind. and you were reminded of home.
you were done taking your sip and let out a happy sigh as you set the cup down.
unbeknownst to you, wriothesley had watched the way you drink the tea and couldn't help but be fascinated in the way your facial expression changed. your eyebrows slightly raised with your eyes slightly widened, the way your smile truly met up to your eyes.
a warm feeling came over him to see you enjoying the tea just as much - probably even more than he did.
"do you like it?" wriothesley asked and you nodded eagerly.
"yeah! it's really good, and tastes sort of familiar. anyway, thanks again, wriothesley." you said pushing the cup back towards him.
"no probl-" he cut himself off after looking down at the now empty tea cup that you had given back to him.
"you finished it..." he muttered quietly eyes widened slightly, when he had handed it to you there was still quite a lot left.
your eyes also widened at his expression as you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck.
"sorry, i haven't eaten much since i got here so..." you said avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment, you hadn't meant to get carried away the tea just tasted that good.
his eyes shifted from the cup and looked at you, frowning ever so slightly, "you haven't eaten?"
"well apart from the few snacks i brought, my welfare meals have been so bad..." you explained still feeling a tad bit guilty.
"i see. the welfare meals are picked at random so you must've been unfortunate." he explained.
"oh really? so that's how it works..." you said trailing off in thought.
he knew about the when the guards' duty ended and the welfare meals yet i didn't, is this guy really new or am i just slow?
"um, how long have you been here wriothesley?" you asked cautiously and curiously.
"three days." he replied rather suddenly, filling his teacup with some more tea out of the teapot.
"oh, ok then." you said, "it's just you know a lot about this place, probably more than me!" you laughed slightly, he didn't respond and instead kept quiet.
silence fell over the two of you as he sipped his tea looking down at the table and you watched him contently with a small smile.
"you're much nicer than i thought, y'know." you said out of the blue.
"hm?" he said looking back up to face you, "what do you mean by that?"
"i guess it's just that when I first saw you i got the impression that you were the kinda inmate who scared everyone. kinda like a big bad wolf." you explained.
at your comment, he simply looked at you with a deadpan expression. seemingly unimpressed at your claims.
you laughed at his face as a yawn escaped your mouth the same time.
"perhaps you should go to sleep now." he suggested noticing your tiredness.
"maybe i should." you agreed getting up from your seat and stretching, you checked your watch and it was nearly 2.
you looked at wriothesley mildly perplexed, "aren't you going to sleep?"
he shook his head, "no, i still have some things i need to sort out."
what could he possible need to do at 2am?
you decided not to question his motives as yet another yawn escaped you.
"alright then, make sure you get some sleep at least. good night wriothesley." you waved, him giving you a curt nod back before making your way back to your room.
—————
you slept particularly well that night but woke up abruptly the next morning as dread filled your gut. you checked your watch as it read a time around ten in the morning.
i slept in! grainville's totally gonna kill me!
quickly you got out of bed and started to get ready until the same sweet smell from yesterday filled your nose bringing you to a halt.
turning you looked over to the table situated in the corner of your room as you caught sight of a familiar teacup and a grey welfare meal box.
you walked on over to the table, the tea was still warm and there was a small note on the top of the box.
'don't worry about sleeping in, i told grainville that you'd be having a lie in. enjoy breakfast. - wriothesley'
you smiled to yourself before setting the little note aside. you didn't even stop to question how he got grainville to obey his orders, the food inside the box smelled too good.
when you opened the grey meal box, you were met with two croissants and a stack of three pancakes topped with maple syrup and berries. your mouth practically started watering at the sight and you wasted no time and dug in.
—————
from then on, your welfare meals improved drastically and you knew it was wriothesley's doing (yet you still wondered how he had managed to). it had been two days since meeting with him that night and you hadn't seen him since.
you brought the teacup with you everyday since then hoping you'd be able to give it back and thank him but you were yet to see him again.
since food wasn't a problem anymore, you were able to work your shifts at the production zone, and you weren't sure if you were imagine things but grainville had been much nicer to you recently. while you worked, he'd tell you to take break any time you wanted.
on the way, you also happened to befriend the bombshell bros, cuistot and laverune.
"what's with the weird teacup (y/n)?"
"oh it's just uh, for a friend?" you said scratching your neck, looking around to find something else to talk about until your eyes landed upon something,
"oh yeah! what's that room?" you asked walking past the doors at the central part of the administrative area, you had passed it a few times but never knew what it was.
"oh that, that's the duke's office." laverune said.
there's a duke here?
"oh yeah," cuistot piped in, "he's basically in charge down here, a real big shot! the last thing you want is to cross paths with him."
subconsciously, you looked down to the teacup in your hand and pondered.
huh... the duke sounds like a big deal yet i haven't seen him before... i guess that's for my own good though
you and laverune dropped cuistot off at the cafeteria so he could work his shift in the kitchen and then headed off to the production zone.
laverune left after around thirty minutes, saying something about how he was hungry and tired yet you stayed, working tirelessly to process widgets. what the fortress needed all of these widgets for was still unknown to you.
while you were working away, you couldn't help but notice a melusine watching you from the corner of your eye.
she looked a tad bit different from the melusines you had seen up on the surface while on your various excursions in fontaine but still had the same cuteness at least. you wondered why a melusine would be down here of all places.
you didnt think much of her at first, not until she came up to you herself.
"hello! you're mx. (y/n), right?" she said waving at you with a wide smile.
you returned with another smile, albeit a bit surprised she had not only approached you but also knew of your name.
"oh, uh yeah that's me! do you need something?" you asked and she nodded.
"my name's sigewenne, i'm the head nurse down here. I’ve been watching you work and was wondering if you'd follow me? i'd like to give you a check up." she inquired, and how could you refuse to such a cute face?
so you ended your shift at the production zone and considering you had nothing else really to do instead, you followed sigwenne.
one thing led to another and now you were laying down in one of the beds of the infirmary.
“mx. (y/n), are you sure you're feeling well?” sigewinne asked as she looked over your state worriedly taking the thermometer from your mouth.
she had run a couple of tests on you, saying you had 'piqued her curiosity'. but now there seemed to be some sort of problem.
"uh yeah i am, why?" you said confused as she shook her head putting down the thermometer.
"you have a temperature of 40°C, im afraid you're going to have to stay here in the infirmary until it goes down."
"wha- but i feel fine!" you sat up all of a sudden as sigewenne ushered you back down.
"don't worry mx. (y/n), i have just the thing!" she said rushing out the room, you sighed sitting up again and resting your back against the head of the bed.
you had placed the teacup down on the floor beside the bed prior to sigewenne's check up, you bent down slightly and picked it up so you could place it in your lap. then you thought about your current predicament.
is it because i was in the production zone for too long?
it was just a habit of yours to work a lot, but you never thought it would end up in you getting a temperature. the thing was you didn't even feel hot. maybe it was because-
"(y/n)?"
your head whipped to the entrance of the infirmary as the familiar voice fell upon your ears.
"wriothesley! where did you go? it's been two days!" you said smiling upon his arrival.
he didn't necessarily answer your question you noticed, but he came over to your bed and pulled a chair out of a desk nearby to sit right by you.
"sigewenne informed me on your state, are you feeling alright?" he said asking you a question in return.
you blinked. sigewenne told him? wasn't she going to get something? why would she tell him of all people?
oh! maybe they're friends?
"oh yeah i'm okay, i honestly don't know what happened..." you laughed slightly looking off to the side.
"you overworked yourself." he sighed, "you don't have to spend all your time in the production zone."
"i know i know... it's just a habit of mine. i guess that's why my boss sent me here to fontaine, to take a break. it's a shame i have to spend some of it down in prison" you explained.
"i see." he said watching your expression and the way your eyebrows furrowed, "do you miss mondstadt?"
"just a bit." you nodded, "i mean i'm going back soon after my sentence but-"
wait a second, i don't remember telling him i came from mondstadt?
but before you could question the fact that he knew where you were from someone else came in.
"your gr- wriothesley, please could i ask you to leave. mx. (y/n) here needs to rest." sigewenne said with her hands on her hips and a pout on her lips.
wriothesley chuckled at her expression before getting out of his chair as you watched him rise, a small frown on your face.
"oh ok. well, thanks for the tea and breakfast a few days ago! it was really really good. here's your cup." you said holding it out for him.
still, i wonder how he managed to get ahold of such nice food down here...
he reached out to receive his cup and you felt his fingers brush against yours sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body causing you to visibly tense up.
"no problem. i'll come visit you again tomorrow." he said with the faintest smile on his face, his eyes not as piercing as they were upon first meeting him.
your breath hitched slightly and you felt your heartbeat start to quicken as you watched him leave the infirmary, eyes still lingering to where he once was. however your actions didn't go unnoticed by a certain melusine.
once he had left, sigwenne came up to you and checked your temperature once more.
"(y/n)! your temperature has gone up again!" she exclaimed bringing you out of your trance.
"o-oh! really? huh..." you said feeling slightly embarrassed, you yourself new the reason as to why that happened.
"here, drink this and your temperature should go down." she said holding out a cup innocently and you received it with a sheepish smile.
"thanks sigewenne." you said taking a massive sip, not expecting the drink to be so bitter with a side of... spiciness? you swallowed it (barely) but starting coughing soon after.
"w-what's in this??" you choked out.
"oh, nothing you need to worry about. everything in there has healing properties." she reassured.
"right... thanks sigewenne." you said handing her back the cup which she took from your hands.
you thought she'd leave you alone but she just stood there, not looking like she's be moving anytime soon. you contemplated whether or not you should ask if she was alright until she spoke up.
"what do you think of wriothesley?" she asked out of nowhere.
you said averting your eyes to the side, trying to get rid of what was in your head prior, "oh he's nice... i mean he's alright i guess?"
the melusine didn't respond after that, so you slowly brought your gaze back onto her only to be startled to see her staring at you with big wide eyes.
you gulped nervously as you gave her a wobbly smile, her stoic expression scaring you, "are you two friends? i mean you told him that i was sick so i figured you must have-"
"do you like him?" she said suddenly cutting you off.
this time it was your turn to widen your eyes as
"of course not! no- wait yes! wait- i mean in a friend way of course! haha... why do you ask?" you said, painfully wincing internally at your stuttering
she didn't say anything at first but simply stared, her eyes boring into you.
"it's ok mx. (y/n), your secret's safe with me!" she said happily as a sudden sense of worry surged through you.
"huh? what do you-"
"you should probably get some rest now, i'll come check on you again tomorrow morning. good night!" she said clasping her hands together and taking her leave.
you were left speechless once again.
—————
as promised, wriothesley came and visited you in the infirmary the next day. but after the events from the previous day you couldn't look at him in the same way.
you told yourself you didn't have a crush on wriothesley, that would be absurd. but for some reason sigewenne seemed convinced you did, as she sorted out her things in the corner of the infirmary she kept giving you glances.
which was terrible because it seemed as if the two of them were friends so if she told him about your 'feelings', you'd be screwed.
it's not like you had a chance with him to begin with, you weren't from fontaine and he probably was. and despite the fact that you two were sent to the fortress around the same time, you had no idea what sort of crime he committed.
now that you thought about it, he was kinda... mysterious.
he was sat beside your bed as you both drank tea in silence, you felt as if it was awkward and didn't know what to say as you looked everywhere but at him.
one time, you accidentally locked eyes with him and immediately looked away embarrassed.
there's no way i have a crush on wriothesley! besides, after my sentence is over i'll never see him again... not that it matters, i don't like him like that!-
"is something bothering you?" he quipped.
your heartbeat quickened again, much to your dismay. the way he had been looking out for you: getting you food, bringing you tea, checking in on you... it was too much for you to handle.
you hadn't even noticed, you were staring at him.
"no!" you said rather loudly coming out of your trance, you didn't even sound convincing to yourself, "nothing's bothering me, nothing's wrong..."
you quickly brought your teacup to your lips and looked down. nonetheless, he slowly nodded at your response as silence welcomed the two of you once more.
"oh yeah! did you know there was a duke down here?" you asked trying to start up some conversation to clear the silence, your talk with cuistot and laverune the day before coming back to you.
he was silent as he looked down to the liquid in his cup, watching the ripples hit the side and gently bounce back. he then nodded.
"oh, you did? i was only told about him yesterday." you said slightly surprised, you had been down here a day longer than wriothesley but he seemed to know way more than you did.
"what's he like? i've never seen him before." you asked as wriothesley looked up in thought but sigewenne came over to the two of you before he could say anything.
"the duke is very hard-working, he's always up to something hence why you probably haven't seen him yet." sigewenne said, a thermometer in her hands which she held out to you.
you received the thermometer and thanked her, "he kinda sounds like my boss. but at least my boss, as stoic as he is, can be nice and funny at times. apparently the duke is someone who should be avoided."
you put the thermometer in your mouth for a while before giving it back to her, she took note of the temperature and scribbled it down. all the while wriothesley frowned at your words.
"i'm sure the duke also has a good sense of humour." he said.
"maybe..." you shrugged.
"the duke also looks after the fortress very well, he's made lots of improvements over the past years to make this place as comfortable as it can be for the inmates here." sigewenne continued "oh! and he really likes drinking tea."
"ooh! i guess you two have that in common huh?" you pointed out looking at wriothesley.
wriothesley took another sip of his cup before speaking up, "i guess we do."
—————
“w-woah, (y/n)! you have loads of credit coupons!” cuistot stammered at the bunch of ‘credit coupons’ you carried.
sigewenne's drink was surprisingly helpful, (despite how weird it tasted) and you only had to stay in the infirmary for a two nights.
the day after, you and the bombshell bros were planning to go to the pankration ring (a place you never knew existed) to watch a match that according to laverune was going to be the ‘fight of the century’.
but before you made your way there you had told them that there was some trash you needed to clear out so they followed you to your room. when you walked out with the bag of credit coupons they’re jaws dropped.
“credit coupons..? i thought they were just pieces of paper. grainville at the production zone kept giving them to me for working.” you said stopping in your tracks and looking down at the coupons in your hand.
“you’re practically rich! with that many credit coupons you could do all sorts!" laverune exclaimed, the two noticed the confused expression still displayed on your face and decided to explain the whole coupon system.
"...so, this is the currency down here?" you asked in shock.
"basically, yeah!" cuistot said.
wow, i never knew...
once you were done putting away your coupons the three of you headed for the pankration ring. laverune suggested you bring some coupons so you could bet on which fighter you thought would win, so you did.
whilst you walked, you listened in on cuistot and laverune's conversation on who they thought would win.
"'le grappleur' is surely going to win! he is reigning champion for a reason." cuistot said and laverune shook his head.
"oh come on, 'demon horde' has it in the bag. the other day, he even beat 'killer hook'! that makes them tied!" laverune argued.
just what kinda names are these...
"who do you think's going to win (y/n)?" cuistot asked turning to you, you shrugged.
"i don't know... 'le grappleur' maybe?" you said taking a complete guess. laverune humphed disapprovingly.
"well, the duke's going to watch the match as well and i heard he's betting on 'demon horde'!" he said crossing his arms.
oh yeah, the duke, maybe i'll finally see what he looks like?
"but (y/n)'s especially close with his grace so they can just get him to change his mind, bam!" cuistot stated as you raised a brow.
"um, i am?" you asked.
cuistot laughed, "it's not often the duke sits to have a meal with anyone, or visit anyone in the infirmary. why didn't you tell us?" he said only arising more confusion inside you.
he did? but the only other person i've talked to is-
"i believe i heard my name?" a familiar voice spoke up from behind you three causing you all to turn around.
just as you thought, it was wriothesley, you smiled at him feeling your heart beat quicken. you were about to say something until cuistot and laverune beat you to it.
"y-your grace!" they both exclaimed simultaneously bowing slightly as you still stood upright, eyes darting between wriothesley and the pair.
"huh? who... 'your grace'? what?" you were confused until it finally clicked, your eyes widening, "wait, you mean... you're the duke?"
wriothesley smirked at you and folded his arms, "took you long enough."
your mouth was slightly agape as you simply stared at him utterly dumbfounded stumbling to find the right words, "w-what? since when?!"
"oh i dont know, a couple of years ago?" he shrugged nonchalantly.
cuistot and laverune noticed you two were conversing and used it was a chance to slip away off to the pankration ring, leaving you with 'his grace'.
everything suddenly made sense. why he was able to get grainville to listen to him, all the food he was able to deliver you.
"why... why didn't you tell me? and here i thought you were an inmate like me this whole time..." you said bringing your palm to your forehead feeling like an idiot.
"i'll be honest i found it quite entertaining that you didn't know who i was." he said causing you to roll your eyes, he took a step closer so that he was gazing down at you.
"how are you feeling by the way?" he asked, his tone becoming a bit softer making your heart beat even faster.
you sighed, still not having fully accepted the fact that you had been hanging around the duke the entire time, "i'm fine, sigewinne said i should just take it easy from now on."
he hummed smiling slightly, "that's good."
a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you merely looked at each other. you admired his features not noticing that he was doing the same until he cleared his throat and looked off to the side.
"your friends seemed to have already left so, would you like to head to the pankration ring together?" he suggested and you beamed at him.
"sure!"
—————
after figuring out who wriothesley really was, you decided it would be best if you discarded your feelings for him. your chances with him had gone from about five percent to absolute zero.
you only had three days of your sentence left anyway, but you weren't looking forward to going back. after all, you ended up liking the fortress of meropide life much more than you had expected.
at the moment, you and wriothesley were having your daily tea break in his office. him sat at his desk going through some papers as you sat on the other side of the desk, reading one of the many books from his shelf.
"you know, i could always shorten your sentence. you could go back today if you wanted." he suggested breaking the silence.
"yes but," you started averting your eyes "i still want to spend a bit more time with cuistot and laverune that's all."
and you too obviously you thought but would never dare to say aloud.
wriothesley hummed in response, "ah yes, you're little friend group." he paused for a bit, "are you sure that's the only reason?"
"uh, i'll miss sigewenne too, she's really sweet." you said, subconsciously taking your eyes off your book and instead watching him. it was a terrible habit of yours lately.
"i see." he said rather plainly, "speaking of sigewenne, we both had a chat earlier today and she told me some, interesting things."
you froze at this and immediately shot ur eyes back down to your book, wriothesley this time noticing as he moved his work to one side watched your expression closely with a smirk.
what? there's no way sigewenne would've told him... right? i never admitted it aloud!
"that's nice, what kind of things?" you said still looking down, eyes scanning over the pages 10x quicker than before (the words weren't even going through your head).
"not much, but she did tell me about you." he said as you felt your heart sink.
"o-oh really? by the way this book is really interesting." you said losing where you were as you flipped ahead a couple of pages, a desperate attempt to change the subject.
he watched your reaction contently, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, he then shrugged.
"maybe it is, i haven't read it yet." he said, "anyway sigewenne told me that-"
you pulled your own chair back and got up, with the book in hand you rushed to the side to go put it back on the shelf. there was no way you were going to let him finish his sentence and humiliate you.
"i just remembered! i need to go find cuistot to try the new recipe he made!" you said getting up from our chair and going over to the bookshelf. you went on your tip toes to place the book back before turning on your heel, ready to dash towards the door.
however when you turned you were met with wriothesley's figure standing in front of you with a lazy smile, blocking you form going any further.
"sigwenne said that you liked me." he leaned down so he was face to face with you, your lips merely inches away from his and a teasing glint in his eyes, "is that true?"
your eyes widened in shock and horror, your pupils darting around everywhere frantically, "uh- i um, i-"
that alone was enough to provide him an answer asall your muffled words came to a halt when he brought his right hand and held your chin up, connecting his lips with yours.
at first you didn't kiss back, you couldn't kiss back, utterly paralysed from the shock. his smooth lips against your own causing your mind to blank out.
does he... like me back??
you couldn't help it, you were a hopeless fool. you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and kissed back, feeling a smile emerge from his lips, you felt as if you were dreaming.
his hand on your chin found its way to your cheek as the other wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you even closer to his body deepening the kiss in the process.
eventually after what felt like years, you both pulled away breathlessly. an irresistible smile creeping up both your faces.
"i think i'm going to have to lengthen your sentence." he said, his hand resting on the side of your face as his thumb caressed your cheek.
"really? what for?" you asked playing along leaning into his touch.
he leaned in once more, planting a small kiss on your lips before pulling back and flashing you a grin.
"for stealing my heart."
all rights reserved © @yazis please do not copy any of my works
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin wriothesley#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley x y/n#wriothesley fluff#wriothesley fanfic#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#sigewinne#this took way too long#and for what#and omg eating ketchup on its own is actually against the law in fontaine#like what#might've seen me post this on my side blog alr
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so part of me wants to blame this entirely on wbd, right? bloys said he was cool with the show getting shopped around, so assuming he was telling the truth (not that im abt to start blindly trusting anything a CEO says lol), that means it’s not an hbo problem. and we already know wbd has an awful track record with refusing to sell their properties—altho unlike coyote v acme, s3 of ofmd isn’t a completed work and therefore there isn’t the same tax writeoff incentive to bury the thing. i just can’t see any reason to hold on to ofmd except for worrying about image, bc it would be embarrassing if they let this show go with such a devoted fanbase and recognizable celebrities and it went somewhere else and did really well (which it would undoubtedly do really well, we’ve long since proven that). it feels kinda tinfoil hat of me to making assumptions abt what’s going on in wbd behind the scenes, but i also feel like there are hints that i’m onto something w my suspicions: suddenly cracking down on fan merch on etsy doesn’t seem like something a studio looking to sell their property would bother with, and we know someone was paying to track the viewing stats on ofmd’s bbc airing, which isn’t finished yet, so i’d expect whoever is monitoring that to not make a decision abt buying ofmd until the s2 finale dropped.
but also i think part of me just wants there to be a clear villain in the situation. it’s kinda comforting to have a face to blame, a clear target to shake my fist at. but the truth is that the entire streaming industry is in the shitter. streaming is not pulling in the kind of profit that investors were promised, and we’re seeing the bubble that was propped up w investor money finally start to pop. studios aren’t leaving much room in their budgets for acquiring new properties, and they’re whittling down what they already have. especially w the strikes last year, they’re all penny pinching like hell. and that’s much a much harder thing to rage against than just one studio or one CEO being shitty. that’s disheartening in a way that’s much bigger and more frightening than if there was just one guy to blame.
my guess is that the truth of the situation is probably somewhere in the middle. wbd is following the same shitty pattern they’ve been following since the merger, and it’s just a hard time for anyone trying to get their story picked up by any studio. ofmd is just one of many shows that are unlucky enough to exist at this very unstable time for the tv/streaming industry.
when i think abt it that way, tho, i’m struck by how lucky we are that ofmd even got to exist at all. if the wbd merger had happened a year earlier, or if djenks and tw tried to pitch this show a year later, there’s no way this show would’ve been made. s1 was given the runtime and the creative freedom needed to tell the story the way the showrunners wanted to, and the final product benefited from it so much that it became a huge hit from sheer gay word of mouth. and for all the imperfections with s2—the shorter episode order, the hard 30 minute per episode limit, the last-minute script changes, the finale a butchered mess of the intended creative vision—the team behind ofmd managed to tell a beautiful story despite the uphill battle they undoubtedly were up against. they ended the season with the main characters in a happy place. ed and stede are together, and our last shot of ed isn’t of him sobbing uncontrollably (like i rlly can’t stress enough how much i would have never been able to acknowledge the existence of this show again if s1 was all we got)
like. y’all. we were this close to a world where ofmd never got to exist. for me, at least, the pain of an undue cancellation is worth getting to have this story at all. so rather than taking my comfort in the form of righteous anger at david zaslav or at wbd or at the entire streaming industry as a whole, i’m trying to focus on how lucky i am to get to have the show in the first place.
bc really, even as i’m reeling in grief to know this is the end of the road for ofmd, a part of me still can’t quite wrap my head around that this show is real. a queer romcom about middle-aged men, a rejection of washboard abs and facetuned beauty standards, a masterful deconstruction and criticism of toxic masculinity, well-written female characters who get to shine despite being in a show that is primarily about manhood and masculinity, diverse characters whose stories never center around oppression and bigotry, a casually nonbinary character, violent revenge fantasies against oppressors that are cathartic but at the same time are not what brings the characters healing and joy, a queer found family, a strong theme of anti colonialism throughout the entire show. a diverse writers room that got to use their perspectives and experiences to inform the story. the fact that above all else, this show is about the love story between ed and stede, which means the character arcs, the thoughts, the feelings, the motivations, the backstories, and everything else that make up the characters of ed and stede are given the most focus and the most care.
bc there rlly aren’t a lot of shows where a character like stede—a flamboyant and overtly gay middle-aged man who abandoned his family to live his life authentically—gets to be the main character of a romcom, gets to be the hero who the show is rooting for.
and god, there definitely aren’t a lot of shows where a character like ed—a queer indigenous man who is famous, successful, hyper-competent, who feels trapped by rigid standards of toxic hypermasculinity, who yearns for softness and gentleness and genuine interpersonal connection and vulnerability, whose mental health struggles and suicidal intentions are given such a huge degree of attention and delicate care in their depiction, who messes up and hurts people when he’s in pain but who the show is still endlessly sympathetic towards—gets to exist at all, much less as the romantic lead and the second protagonist of the show.
so fuck the studios, fuck capitalism, fuck everything that brought the show to an end before the story was told all the way through. because the forces that are keeping s3 from being made are the same forces that would’ve seen the entire show canceled before it even began. s3 is canceled, and s2 suffered from studio meddling, but we still won. we got to have this show. we got to have these characters. there’s been so much working against this show from the very beginning but here we are, two years later, lives changed bc despite all odds, ofmd exists. they can’t take that away from us. they can’t make us stop talking abt or stop caring abt this show. i’m gonna be a fan of this show til the day i die, and the studios hate that. they hate that we care about things that don’t fit into their business strategy, they hate that not everyone will blindly consume endless IP reboots and spin-offs and cheap reality tv.
anyway i dont rlly have a neat way to end this post. sorta just rambling abt my feelings. idk, i know this sucks but im not rlly feeling like wallowing in it. i think my gratitude for the show is outweighing my grief and anger, at least for right now. most important thing tho is im not going anywhere. and my love for this show is certainly not fucking going anywhere.
#ofmd#our flag means death#save ofmd#s3 renewal hell#txt#mine#og#studio crit#edward teach#stede bonnet#gentlebeard
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To hunt or be hunted #7
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: A moment of weakness, or perhaps of caring? Warnings: SMUT kids scram!.
Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis
Sorry for the updating problems, now it's finished :3
"Then...make me your reason" your laughter was unexpected, but then again, he wasn’t expecting for you to say yes right away.
"Why? And don't sell me the cow that in less than three months you fell for me, 'cause it's not possible, besides you're married" the brightness that surrounded him, upset your stomach, it was a reminder.
Her. His story, the fall, his and her promises of never stopping loving each other. What could happen between them to break such a love story? What if she never came back?
Could you live long enough to make him happy? Will you suffice?
"Well, I grew fond of our talks, it will be really sad if I lost my cuddle buddy" He wasn't sure what he was saying, just the fact that not seeing you was not an option, "And, I've noticed you take good care of Charlie" it hurt him, a lot, but seeing his own daughter being taken care of in any way possible, but not by him, was like a direct stab to his heart.
Your weirded out face made him explain:
"You make sure she eats, in the mornings it's you who gives her vitamins, you remind her of her appointments, bandage her when she gets hurt, I've even heard her rant to you and take your advice at heart. You've taken care of my daughter as if she was yours" Lucifer’s heart ached with every word.
A lightning bolt hit your entire body, figuratively. Eight years of taking care of her, it was as natural as breathing. Did you perhaps reflect the stolen need for motherhood in her? If so, her real mother is going to annihilate you.
"What if that was your reason?" he had his hope on the line, "I'm not her mother, the real deal will kill me if she hears me, but though she's being unbelievably irresponsible, I cannot take this from her” you took notice on his hands again, he had them on each side of your head it was hard not to notice.
Subtle scratches, horizontal, messy and weirdly even, the depression medication. Oh you prayed she never get back, he would never forgive you if her head was on the other end of your axe, but you won’t have him getting hurt by her again, and if it could be at the expense of your life, even better.
"I think, deep down, she knows that. I'm not excluded in that" he lowered himself again, at least you wouldn’t look him in the eyes when you spoke, it hurt seeing his ‘at the verge of tears’ look.
"You know, I think if you tell your daughter of your depression, she will stop resenting your absence" he pulled himself up again, his red cheeks went so down you thought they would reach the underside of his chin "She does what?" anguish, pure at that.
"What did you think she rants about? Partially you, mainly why her hotel isn't working” he sighed, listening to you made him understand why Charlie stook around you, which was the other way around mostly, but still. He took your hand from his shoulder, kissed your knuckles with his eyes closed, then muttered a very heartfelt "Thank you for taking care of her” before leaning against your palm.
"With time it became my pleasure, at first I wanted to kill her" you chuckled, he came down on your neck, inhaling the remanent smell on his shampoo. What an intimate thing, Lilith wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some other thing than her rose smelling antique perfume and products.
“Good thing you didn't” he muttered, “And face you? I ain't stupid" you only realized what you said when he started laughing at you, a soundly one with one or two occasional snorts, "Shut up" you rolled on your side with him still on you, which was pretty easy.
"Make us your reason, stay" if you were sober you would’ve coward in your old morals for the intimate position, crotch to crotch, but it was so close and warm.
“I'm just leaving that option on the table, if you still want to die, we'll miss you dearly, heck, I think even that son of bitch of Alastor will” you shook your head softly, attempting not to laugh, the alcohol doing all the funny work in your brain.
“You enjoy being in between my tits, huh?” his snake smile was too much when you dropped that, “I've been here through all this conversation, didn't heard you complaining” his hand went up and down your back.
“You have her in your mind when we do this” your happiness went away, your limbs went limp, so did your mind for a moment.
“No, not so much” his smile dropped, gosh you wished you could sew it up, “I wasn't asking, I just want to know if you're aware of who I’m not”.
“I am” he assured.
“Do I disappoint you, when you open your eyes and realize she's still not here?” he was, his hesitation told you everything.
"Thing is, I can't make you or Charlie my reason, I will not be a replacement, I'm sure you understand"
"And what if Alastor asked you that? Will you?".
"No, he’s two different people, one with me and another in public, and he despises physical touch and PDA on a daily basis, and I need that" you saw his shadow slip from under the door, drawing a finger along his neck and an ok hand gesture.
“But he did me a solid tonight, a huge one, if he asked me for a kiss tomorrow I would give him some sugar” the shadow winked then slipped under again.
“And if I did? Would you?” you knew what he was asking, but instead you just played something random in your head in hopes for him to let you sleep a bit, “Give you a kiss? My, my, your majesty, how forward”.
“You're a prude” he moved away from your neck, “I'm simply old fashioned”.
His hand rested on your cheek, gently moving towards your neck, not squeezing or pressing, just holding it. Your tail wrapped around your leg, at the same time you closed your eyes as her face approached, slowly. A kiss, calm, soft, near the corner of your lips.
"Is that okay?" you weren’t listening, you wanted to relish on the loveliness of his gesture, it made you all bubbly and lovely. You hummed, there was nothing else you could utter, not when his breath went back to your neck.
A mental ‘fuck it’ later, had you yanking his head away from your neck and pressing your lips on his, "Remind me of this when I'm sober" as soon as you were done you pulled him back against you, "Will do" a loved sick king he was, reminded him when he just had met Lilith.
"And Y/n…if you gave me a chance and some time, you wouldn't be a replacement” after a second of thought and a heavy sigh, “Can I keep that option and sleep on it for a while?" he smiled then nuzzled into your warmth, as did you, "Sure thing, like I said, the option is there".
The way Lucifer saw it, an abstract void in which he was trapped, willingly so.
How can he put seven years of pain behind him? It is as if he is sitting in the dark, while the world moves around him, he doesn’t know if he falls or rises, he only feels the movement and how it leaves him behind in a certain way. He sees you, far away in the shadows, your body wrapped in them, covering everything except your face, to him it looks like you are drowning, in the center of your chest a white, empty hole.
Your tired eyes without more tears to shed, even without strength they managed to stay away from the shadows, how? He alone clinging to hope and denial kept the cold of loneliness and despair at bay.
Contrary from him, you maintained yourself above the darkness, standing, strong despite being tired out of your mind. He longed to know what drove you to keep walking despite everything. Reach you in some way, save you from the hands of pain that tried to drag you into oblivion.
What were you reaching for? Your arm was out stretched, towards the sky, was it heaven? Someone to help you? He wanted to, he wanted to move, why he couldn’t?
“Fuck, Y/n! Wait for me, please, I’ll find a way, I promise!” he yelled into the void, not getting your attention despite how many times he did, or how loud he was.
Specks of lights made you fade from view, “No, please, not you too, I can be better!” His knees shook, so he used his claws against the ground to try to move towards you, tearing the skin under his nails from the strength he put into it.
“Please, don’t leave!” he yelled one more time. And then, he felt how his agitated breathing dried his throat, the light from his room almost blinded his eyes when he opened them. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was a dream.
It was still pretty early, the sky was still dark, the only light that illuminated the room was the one from the bathroom.
You were kneeling near the toilet, head down, he guessed the alcohol caught up on you and moved away from him to vomit. Silently he picked up your hair from your face, gently holding all the soft strands in his hand, as the other caressed your back softly.
Still, not a single word being uttered, he materialized you a toothbrush, then he waited for you to come back to bed, his arms open. This time he positioned himself behind your back, one arm under your neck and the other across your waist, avoiding pressing too hard.
You wondered, what made him treat you so sweetly? You touched with your index softly along the scratches on his wrist, “How can someone ethereal like you, be troubled by things so earth bound?” you realized you said it out loud when the hand that was on your waist moved to intertwine it with yours.
“I’m far from ethereal” his hot breath was on your ear, the twitching made him smile. “You were an angel, how can someone like you feel so much pain?” It was difficult for him to analyze your question, were you perhaps questioning that angels did not feel emotions? “How? I feel, you like you” you shook your head, “That’s not what I mean” collecting your thoughts seemed impossible, it was a mental mess.
“You wonder why I feel pain?” you hummed in response, “I feel like at the beginning, helpless, useless, I took away her chance to go to heaven, believing I could make her happy, but it wasn’t enough” he then added “I wasn’t enough” hurt was an understatement, there was a whole set of words yo describe how his voice sounded, but his sadness overall brought a few tears to fall off your eyes.
“I may have felt the same way… still do” he hugged you even tighter, “We are two broken souls, a bunch of messy pieces” you leaned your face to the marks on his wrist, placing a subtle kiss as you joked “Scrap books”, making him smile and let out a small laugh, “You’re so cute”.
🍎📻
"Alastor, is me, open up" you leaned against the door frame, your headache killing your head and your stomach on the verge of jumping off your body. That and the tiredness for waking up in the middle of the night made your voice a bit raspy and slurred.
"Good morning mon chérie, how was your night?" either he was being a sunshine to piss you off, or he was in a sincere good mood…or both.
“I am never drinking again” he laughed a little, watching you push the silver ‘room service’ cart inside his room, setting it on a near corner.
“I assumed as much” he reached his bookshelf and pulled a couple pills out of a few boxes, “You're amazing” he got all kind of tingles when you took the pills off his hand, he relished on how unbelievably soft your skin was.
"I must say that about you, quite the entertainment your ex resulted to be" With his cup of tea he sat in a single red sofa chair, with his free hand he pat the black one on his side. You flopped on the seat with your cup of coffee.
“Is he dead?” he couldn’t tell by your already sour tone if you were being sarcastic or you really cared, "Barely alive, but healing, I will tore him apart again tonight" the little smile he got from you was delightful.
"Darling, I have some information for you" if the ass of your ex told him anything, you didn’t needed to know, curiosity burned your insides though. “What will it cost me?” he hummed pensative, “A kiss” that was odd coming from him, but then again you remembered telling him, or his shadow, that.
“The intel first, to see if it's worth it” you tried to laugh your urge to kill someone, “I know the name of the man your daughter got sold to, he's down here" he took a sip of his tea, "He's in the mafia district, I know where his base of operations is".
"I… want to see him first, hear from him what he did with my daughter, even if it hurts" he hummed in understanding, reaching your hand, giving you a reassurance squeeze.
"Again, thank you Alastor, you...have no idea how much I appreciate this" he smiled, the shadows that conformed the chair you sat on elevated you and with a swift movement you fell gently on Alastor’s lap. "Show me” ‘fucking narcissist’ you thought, bringing your hand to cup his cheek.
When your lips merged with his, time didn’t mattered, it in fact went a lot slower. He embraced your waist with one arm, bringing you closer if that was possible, his other one secured your back and neck in place, grasping a fistful of your hair once or twice.
He sensed his mental sanity left his body when he felt your hand on the back of his head, caressing ever so lightly, going down to the rim of his shirt, respecting the limit he wanted to eliminate.
He felt a little brave, comfortable with the interaction, the white shirt carefully tucked into your pants was lifted, allowing Alastor’s hand to roam around your back, feeling the corset laces, playing with them.
"Don't do that if you're not going to do something about it" you warned, your forehead in touch with his. Alastor’s smile softened, “I’m not partial to physical touch” he started, “You’ve made that clear” you giggled, pecking his cheek, earning a content sigh from him.
“Somehow you… how to put it? Make me desire it, to have you nearer than I accustom” you blinked a few times, your hand went back to his cheek, softly making your way to his hair, “I don’t understand why, nor this feeling, would you help me dearest?” He had closed his eyes when your hand touched him again, but at the end of his question he opened them.
Having known well the desire faces of countless men, you knew that what Alastor was begging for was not any sexual impulse, but closeness, warmth, softness. The pleasure that only a person who burns for another can deliver.
You weren't sure if you could provide him with such a feeling, however the guilt of having denied him your sympathy for fear of becoming too attached dissipated for a second.
His face got close once again, his eyes asking for permission, without wasting any more time you let him introduce his tongue into your mouth, a passion that ignited a flame of desire that ran through your entire body.
He pulled apart, “May I?” He referred to the bulletproof corset you were wearing. After nodding your head, he deftly undid the slats that held your torso together, as well as unbuttoned your shirt and removed the leather straps over your shoulders.
He seemed to pay no attention to the snake tattoo clutching your arm, making its way to in between your breast.
Exposed from the waist up, but that wasn't going to be uneven. You asked the same thing, your hands playing with the hem of his shirt, occasionally touching his Adam's apple to rile him up.
You knew he was unsure, but he nodded nonetheless. He kissed you again as he felt you letting his coat fall from his shoulders, as well as the leather cross that adorned his chest, and then one button at a time his shirt opened, until you had a clear view once again of the scars. under his fine fur, the already healed battle wound and his thin but strong torso.
His hands then touched a series of indentations on your skin, long and repetitive, almost all of the same length, spreading across your skin to a little below your shoulders. When he wanted to stop kissing you to take a look, you held his face against the back of the chair, "Don't make me feel like damaged goods, don't pay attention to what you're touching, okay?" You didn't want to see him feel sorry for you, for once you wanted to enjoy the attention without thinking about your past.
He obeyed your wishes. Standing up from the chair, with you up with him, in a flash of green, he laid you down on a dark red fabric, he had materialized a bed on his room.
His hands caressed from your shoulders to your breasts, perhaps admiring the shape or the softness, but more than anything, what made Alastor make sighs of pleasure was leaving small kisses and bites from your neck to the space between your breast.
The small electric sensations made you cling to his shoulders, fighting any urge to accidentally scratch him. Purposedly, returning to your face level, he pressed his groin against your core, a yelp escaped your throat, a sound that to his ears was heavenly.
“Take the cover off” He knew you used a dental cover over your fangs, mostly to avoid cutting your tongue or lips, “You want me to bite you?” he chuckled, his face adorned with a lustful glint, “I want you to devour me, chérie” with a snap of his fingers, he made it go away, leaving it on a tiny box on the shelf on top of the fireplace.
He left his collarbone exposed and free for you, raising his body a little higher, taking the opportunity to lick the sensitive edge of your ear. His breath caught as your teeth embedded in the curve where his shoulder and neck meet. When he was able to breathe again he exhaled shakily, causing your cervix to tingle.
Ecstasy, that was the word that came to Alastor's mind after trying to rationalize. His knees trembled, but he felt strong enough to lift your body and move you from the edge of the bed, towards the center, your head resting on one of the pillows.
Something that he could not do in life, but because it never occurred to him that he would need it, try the pleasures of skin. He moved down your body, hands on your belt, he again asked for your permission and with a smile you nodded. His constant questioning was refreshing, no one was interested in asking you if you wanted to be defiled, however, he was different.
Like the show man he is, he traveled down to your feet, pulling one up his shoulder, as he unzip your boots and felt all undergarments discarded on the edge of the bed. Never breaking eye contact as he did.
He also undid his pants, allowing you to see the red streak of hair that went down his bellybutton to the groomed part over his groin. He was big, the color of his skin matching the cream hue on his face, only lighter.
“I’ve never done this before” he confessed, ears to his sides, “You want me to take the lead?” you asked, not mocking but trying assure him it wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, “Tell me how can I pleasure you” your own ears went down embarrassed, “You don’t have to go down on me, but the path has to be opened, you can do it with your fingers”.
He hummed, burring his face in your neck as his hand went down your stomach, passing over your clit to go in between your folds, finding your wet entrance. You gasped, he rid of his claws as he introduced one finger.
Your hands flew to his back, alarming him a little, “It’s okay, it just…been a while, I kind of forgot the feeling” your face was flushed, too embarrassed to look at him in the eye. He continued a soft pumping motion, nipping on your neck as he did. Relishing on the gasps and moans that left your throat. He continued that way until he was able to add three fingers, and by the then your insides squeezed him tightly, then your back arched as you emitted a loud high gasp.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore, it felt so good, I’m sorry” he kissed your tears away, “I’m actually quite flattered I was able to pleasure you to the point of finishing just with my fingers” he made you laugh, “Al, please, I need you inside” your whole body was shaking as he touched you.
“With pleasure, ma belle vie” He positioned the tip on the edge, sending shivers up his spine. Little by little he pushed himself inside, all the way to the rim.
He waited for some kind of confirmation despite his urge to move, although he found your hips grinding on his was enough of a clue to continue.
His pace started off slow and gentle, when you pulled his face back for a kiss, something inside of him snaped. “Y/n” He brought your knees higher on his sides, making you press against his skin.
His eyes went black, his antlers and body increased in size, and so did his dick as he was still inside you. Not enough to rip you apart, but considerably bigger than at the beginning.
Alastor's mind suddenly switched off, wandering in darkness for a few seconds, “Alastor! Ah!” before your loud whine brought him to clarity again.
He looked down on you, "Are you alright?" On the inside he was worried out of his mind, but he tried to seem - in his own words- cool, as he asked.
Tears ran down your eyes, your skin was sweaty and flushed, you were panting and moaning as you tried to make up an answer. He felt your legs trembling against his skin. “Something like that” you said out of breath, a week smile on your face.
"Please don't stop now, I'm very close" he wanted to please you, but when he looked down at in between your legs, as he decreased in size, his dick was now soft and leaking.
"I think it won't be possible dearest" you shook your head with a soft smile, "Don't you worry, come here" he didn't noticed how much of his strength his orgasm took away, until he relaxed his body nuzzling into yours.
“Are you sure it’s enough?” since you had already came twice, you felt that you didn’t need to be greedy, after all, it was his first time. “I’m sure” to your eyes he truly seemed happy.
It warmed your heart when he hid his face on the crook of your neck, looping his arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours. "I suppose after this you won’t be allowing me to touch you for a week” he sighed, “Most likely” you felt comfortable, happy, his was another type of warmth, “Y/n” he spoke, kissing the red marks he left on your skin.
“I’m sorry for what I said, I really am” spotting his ear, you seized the opportunity to nip at it, gently but with a little force that caused him to dig his nails on your hips, and let out a whine.
“What was that for?” he pushed himself off to hover on top of you, not necessarily angry but bothered and hot, “To piss you off” he groaned at your amused expression, not having any fun with it despite his permanent smile, “You’re more than forgiven, will you accompany me to pay the mobster a visit?” he sighed, lowering himself to kiss your lips before whispering against them, “It will be my pleasure, darling”.
You two agreed to stay a little bit more time in bed before attempting to shower, despite his wish to take a bath with you, he felt too overstimulated to allow any more touch, which you respected.
Little did you know, that the king found himself making a mess inside his pants, as he had watched the whole thing from the rim of the door. With the aid of his wings he scurried back to his room, his hand going up and down his dick in an attempt to soothe the aching.
“Y/n” he repeated, panting. In his mind he saw himself taking hold of your hips, your hair, hands, breast. Holding your whole being against him. He thought he knew angelic chorus sounds, until your moans proved him wrong.
His breath hitched cumming a second time into his hand, “Fucking bell hop, fucking bastard” he hit the back of his head against the wall he was leaning in.
The painting of his wife on the wall made him feel guilty about what he had done. Masturbate thinking about someone else? he had never thought about it when she was away. He didn't even have the strength to do it anyway.
At the end of a mental torture, he concluded that the kiss you gave him last night was not enough, he was going to make sure he didn’t lost you to Alastor, he just had to figure how to convince you to want to live.
-----------------------------------
Stay tuned ;3.
Part 8
#alastor x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#radio demon#cursed cat alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel fanart#alastor x lucifer#alastor fanart#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#radioapple#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#hazbin#hotel hazbin#hazbin hotel#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel smut#alastor fluff
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036. these kids are so weird,,, (wc: 1474)
Mark's hands found their way under your shirt, grasping at the skin right above your waistband. The cold touch of his fingertips pulls you out of this trance, and your eyes shoot open before you push him away. “Mark, we can't,” you tell him, pulling yourself out of his arms and away from the table.
Mark's eyebrows scrunch together, still too dazed from the kiss to even understand what you're doing. “What are you talking about?”
“This Mark, this,” you explain, pointing back and forth between the two of you. “I'm sorry, but I just can't.”
“Oh, so you can kiss me, twice now,” he starts, huffing as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “But this won't work? What the fuck are you going on about?”
“I really don't want to talk about it,” you continue, turning away from him. “Let's just finish this game and go our separate ways.”
“No, fuck that, I want to talk about this,” he pushes himself off the table, walking towards you. “You kissed me for a reason, it wasn't just because of some stupid, pent-up frustration!” He pauses, staring at the back of your head. “Why did you tell Hyuck and Julie about my drunk texts?”
You still don't turn around to face him until he's tugging on your wrist and doing it for you. “Why, Y/N?” He asks again, voice much quieter than before. “Why can't we just fucking talk about this like adults? We've been avoiding this talk ever since you told me to ‘stay single,’ but I can feel it, man. Come on, why do we have to beat around the bush all the time?”
You're silent for a moment, avoiding his gaze with all your might. Finally, just barely above a whisper, “can we just talk about this later?” You let out. “Please.”
Mark scoffs, letting go of your wrist. “Whatever,” he sighs, going to collect his things. He throws you your paintball gun, “go on. Let's just get this over with, I'm sure you're itching to get away from me.”
You stare down at the gun in your hands, confusion written all over your face as you look back up at him. “Don't act stupid now, just shoot me and get this fucking game over with,” he continues, standing there with arms wide open, inviting in the inevitable loss.
“I'm not going to shoot you, Mark,” you spit back, watching his eyes roll. “There could still be people in. You don't know that we’re the last two for certain.”
“I think if there was anyone else left, they would've gotten the both of us out when my tongue was down your throat for five minutes,” he argues, reaching towards his own paintball gun. He aims it straight at you, “listen, it's either you or me. I really don't care who gets this priority registration anymore.”
Before you can say anything back, the door flies open, and in comes Johnny all decked out like he had been a part of the game the whole time. He's armed with a much larger paintball gun, with a tiger print pattern running across the side. Mark and you stare at each other with wide eyes, which makes a sinister grin grow on the instructor's face. He starts firing around the room like a maniac, but you're both quick to take cover behind a tipped-over table nearby, flinching as his bullets paint the entire room.
The paintball gun slows to a stop, and you both hear maniacal laughter come from the other side of the room. “Ohayo, children,” he starts, reloading the weapon promptly. “You'll be happy to know you made it all the way ‘til the end.”
“You're not even a student!” Mark shouts from behind the table.
“Wrong!” He shouts back. Although the two students can't see, Johnny whips out a sheet of paper with his schedule written across it. “Weight training and music production, biatch!”
You blindly shoot at the ceiling, hoping to scare your instructor off, but he continues to shoot around the room. Mark stares at you, “give me your gun,” he whispers out, cursing to himself for not grabbing his own before hiding behind the table.
“Fuck no, are you crazy?” You let out, eyebrows furrowed as you looked back at him.
“Look, one of us has to win, alright?” He sighs, reaching for your paintball gun.
You slap his hand away, “yeah, and it's going to be you.” You pause, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Look, you got the drop on me. I lost. Let me do this for you.”
He reaches his free hand up to cup your cheek, pulling you in for another kiss. Mark yearns for nothing more than to just stay there with you, ignoring their maniacal instructor and just talk about their feelings. But he knows that's not possible, so he lets go of your hand to reach for your gun.
You pull back quickly, a smile on your face as you pull your weapon away from him. “Nice try,” you say, patting his cheek. “Go get that priority registration for us.”
Johnny's weapon slows to a stop again, and he's throwing it to the ground, instead pulling out two smaller paintball guns from his jacket. You rise from your spot behind the table, locking eyes with your instructor instantly. You run out, aiming your weapon at the man and firing. He does the same, firing his two paintball guns as he runs for protection. Time almost slows as you both shoot out at the same time, paintballs flying straight into your chests.
Johnny sinks down to the ground with a loud groan, dropping his weapons. You let out a deep breath, angry with the fact that you had worn such a cute shirt today. Mark peeks up from behind the table, eyes meeting yours with a quick smile. He stands, walking his way around until he steps in front of Johnny's dropped weapon, but the older man laughs again as he watches his student arm himself with his old weapon.
“What's so funny, Suh?” Mark questions, standing above him with his head held high.
“Maybe it's the fact there's no such thing as priority registration,” he says, watching the boy's smile fall. “Or, maybe it's this.” He opens his jacket, revealing a makeshift paint bomb with a timer. His hand inches up and presses the small red button on the side, and the ticking down of the five second clock starts soon after.
You look at each other with wide eyes before Mark is dashing out through the door, almost flying through it to keep himself clean of any paint. He lands on the floor with a thud, while a green explosion goes off behind him, painting the now closed door and windows.
The Dean sits quietly in his office, dunking a tea bag carefully into his mug. Enjoying his peace until Johnny would return and end this very long and tiring day. That's until a voice calls out from behind his door, calling his name. He freezes, recognizing the voice to not belong to his employee, but Mark Lee. “Just one moment,” he says, resting his hands on his desk.
It takes less than a moment for Mark to kick the office door down, startling the man out of his chair. He walks slowly into the room, glaring daggers right into the Dean’s head. “Oh, hi there, Mark,” the man squeaks out. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Everybody out there is shooting each other for nothing,” Mark explains, although the Dean very well knows this. “While you sit here in your ivory tower.”
“Mark, I can explain,” the Dean says, raising his arms in defense. He nods, “I messed up when I promised priority registration. Apparently, it's a violation of some student equality act, but…” He pauses, presenting the boxed PlayStation Five that lays on his desk. “This isn't, tada!”
Mark doesn't need to voice out his frustration. He just shoots at the box until the Dean drops it back down onto his desk. He continues to fire around the room, screaming as the Dean yells out his name in horror and drops behind his desk. The gun whirs to a stop, prompting Mark to drop it on the ground with a huff.
The Dean peeks up over the wood, rising to his feet. He lets out a sigh, “you get it all out of your system?” But only gets quiet laughter in response.
Mark laughs for a moment, “almost.” He's quick to pull out a smaller paintball gun from behind his back, aiming and shooting the Dean right in the forehead. He pulls the gun back, blowing down the end of the barrel.
The Dean stands there, defeated. “What do you want from me, Mark?”
“Guess.”
synopsis ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?
a/n: it's not marky/n if there's no problems 😃
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Valentines day (Emily Sonnett x Reader)
I don't really know what this is. The idea randomly came to me so I hope you like it :)
Summary: Emily loves valentines day so despite them being in a fight, Y/n still does something for her.
Warnings- Tiny bit suggestive at the end
Words: 1.8k
---
Emily and I had gotten into a pretty big fight a few days ago. We had barely talked or even see each other since with her staying in the spare room. I was meant to move to be with her, but there was a big project at work that I had to finish before I could. Well, I could have not done the project. It just meant likely missing out on a big promotion with my transfer. Understandably, Emily wasn't very happy about that because it meant a month or two before I could make the move.
It was valentines day, we still weren't talking, but I wasn't going to not do anything because of that. With how pissed she was at me, she likely hadn't done anything for me, but I didn't care. I didn't care much about the day anyway. Emily loved valentines day though, I wouldn't take that away from her, no matter how annoyed I was.
Although I had to work today, I still wanted to make it as special as possible. Months ago I had made reservations at the fancy restaurant Emily had wanted to try. I didn't know if Emily would come to dinner with me, but I was going to be there to pick her up regardless. Before work, I made Emily her favourite breakfast. She was likely awake so I quietly peeked in the room to find her sitting up, scrolling on her phone. Emily didn't acknowledge me, only looking up when I placed the tray on her lap. I walked back to the door, stopping briefly before leaving.
"Happy valentines day. I love you."
Just before the door closed I heard a quiet 'I love you'. It was something at least. I hadn't heard that in person since our fight. I would never go that long without telling her I loved her, so I had messaged her at least once a day. Emily always replied, sometimes even messaging me first.
Before leaving, I left flowers in a vase on the counter, making sure to put a fake flower in with it. Every time I got Emily flowers, I would add a fake one in. It had become sort of a tradition after we were messing around in shops one day and I jokingly held up a fake flower, telling her I would love her until it died. I also added a massage/spa voucher, a nail voucher and a letter. It was written before our fight. Everything in it was still true though so I wanted her to read it.
Hi my love,
Happy valentines day. I want you to know how much you mean to me, not just on Valentine's Day, but every single day. You are my rock, my partner-in-crime, and my favourite person to spend time with. I love you more than words will ever be able to express.
You bring light into my life in ways I never imagined possible. Your laughter and smile is infectious, it fills me with so much happiness, love, and warmth. Everyday with you is an adventure, filled with love, laughter, goofiness and so much more. Being with you is the happiest I've ever been. I can't wait for the adventures, the boring, the fun and everything else that awaits.
Unfortunately, I have work to do today, but you deserve to be pampered like the royalty you are. Go enjoy your day getting pampered, then put on something semi fancy and a little sexy ;) I'll pick you up at 6:30.
I love you more than words can describe <3
P.S I'm going to love you until the last flower dies.
-Y/n
---
Today had probably been one of my least productive days at work. I had spent the entire day thinking about if Emily would actually come to dinner with me. I would convince myself she would, then the doubt would creep in and I would convince myself she would stand me up.
At 6:30, I was waiting in the living room for Emily. To be honest, I was still half expecting her to not come out. Thankfully, a few minutes later she appeared, wearing a knee length, halter neck red dress with black heels. My eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her. Fuck, she looked incredible. I stood in front of her, not touching her because I wasn't sure where we actually stood. "You look incredible Em."
"Thank you, you look amazing Y/n/n."
I offered my arm, internally smiling when hers looped with mine, "You ready to go?"
"Yeah. Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
Emily was super excited when she saw where we were. Throughout dinner, things were slightly awkward, but we had both seemed to put our fight to the side for now at least. We talked about our days and any light hearted topics we could think of. Even though things were still a bit awkward, I was incredibly happy to be talking again. I did miss touching her though. We were a very touchy couple, especially in private. Normally, there would be arm or leg touches, random kiss or cuddles. Tonight there was only a few minutes of hand holding and a cheek kiss.
"Thank you for today by the way. I haven't been pampered like that in a long time. You didn't have to make me cry with that letter though."
"You deserve to be pampered Em. You also know I'm better with written words then spoken."
"It was beautiful. I didn't forget or just not do anything by the way. Your gift is just running late, it should be here tomorrow."
"You know I wouldn't care if you didn't get me anything."
"I know, but you deserve to get spoilt as well."
After dinner, we found ourselves walking along the waterfront. We weren't talking or touching, but it was nice regardless. I didn't want to go home still on bad terms with Emily. The fighting was exhausting, I missed my girlfriend and just wanted to finish the night cuddled up with her. So when we came across a bench, I sat down, patting the spot next to me.
A few minutes of silence passed before I decided to speak up, "I wasn't sure if you would come tonight. Honestly, I was expecting to be stood up."
"We may be fighting, but I wouldn't miss this for the world Y/n/n. I know you. Which means I know you thought about this and booked this months in advance. I know you put a lot of thought into valentines day because you know I like it. You put so much effort into this for me, I love you too much to just disregard that."
My fingers laced with hers, kissing the back of her hand, "I don't want to be fighting anymore. I miss you."
"Me neither. I guess I was just hurt that you didn't want to come with me."
I turned so I was facing her, hands holding both of hers. I wanted her to see how serious I was, to remove any doubt about me wanting to be with her. After closing the distance, I couldn't imagine ever going back to that long term. I needed her to understand that.
"Emily, I'm still coming with you. Not coming with you has never been a thought let alone an option. I just need a month or two to finish this project. It's not ideal, I know that, but this project will get me to the point in my career that I've been working toward for years. It'll mean less hours, more autonomy over what I do."
"Maybe didn't want to come was the wrong way to say that. I was worried that you would change your mind and decide you didn't want to move. Or what if the project runs longer or something happens."
"Hey, listen to me. You are my future Em, there is nothing that would make me not want to move with you. If I stay, even if the project runs longer, I will be coming to you in 2 months at the absolute most."
"If that happens you won't get your promotion."
"I'll figure it out if that happens. There will be other options if it comes to it. Look, if you really don't want me to stay, say the word and I'll move when you do. Our relationship is more important than a job."
Emily squeezed my hands, shaking her head quickly, "No, this is a huge opportunity for you. I'm not going to take that away from you because I got scared. Besides, you're moving because of me, it wouldn't be fair. Get that promotion then come home to me. I know it was a bit of an overreaction, we've done long distance before, it's just been a while and that fear creeped in. I love you Y/n/n."
"I love you. I will always come home to you, you are my home Em. Now that we've sorted that, kiss me because I miss that."
Emily cupped the back of my neck, lips connecting with mine in a rough, passionate kiss. Things got heated quickly so I pulled away as we were still in public. "I missed you."
"I missed you too. I'm sorry for being so stubborn."
"It's okay, let's not make a habit of it though. Since it's valentines day, can you tell me what my gift is?"
Emily chuckled, pecking my lips quickly, "Nope. You can be patient one more day."
"Fine. Can we get ice cream then go home and cuddle now?"
Emily winked, "Just cuddles?"
My fingers ran along her thigh, slipping under her dress, "Maybe spicy cuddles."
---
The next day, Emily and I had spent most of the day in bed sleeping after a long night and cuddling. I had surprised her with breakfast before confusing her by getting back into bed. Normally, I would have to work, but after the last few days, I had decided to take the day off to just spend time with her. About mid afternoon, Emily dragged us out of bed to shower and finally get dressed. I didn't understand her rush to get ready until there was a knock on the door.
"Are we expecting someone?"
Emily smiled excitedly, "That's probably your gift. Go open it."
I slowly opened the door to find a large teddy bear on the other side. I figured it was a delivery person holding it so I awkwardly said hello, waiting for them to move or something. The teddy bear was handed to me, though when I looked up, it ended up on the floor. Standing in front of me, was my bestfriend that I hadn't seen in person for over a year. He had moved out of the country and things were busy so visits were few and far between. I jumped into his arms, holding him tight for who knows how long. We had been friends since birth pretty much, this was the longest we had gone without seeing each other.
I pulled away, letting him inside before hugging Emily, "You did this?"
Emily smiled, wiping away my tears, "I know you how much you were missing him."
"Thank you Em. I love you so much."
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ONE MORE KISS
genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. pairing. seunghan x fem!reader. wc. 507. request. requested by @blue-jisungs for the 1500 follower event here!! a/n. i miss him soooo much :(
“Just one more? Please? Just one more!”
You had never, in all your months dating him, seen Seunghan this clingy. He had quite literally not left your side since this morning. It was now past lunch time, and you had dealt with your boyfriend-turned-koala latched to your side the entire time. You didn’t really mind it all that much— Seunghan was comfortable, and definitely kept you warmer than your sweater, but there were a few problems.
For one, he was really, really distracting. Having him close enough that you could smell his cologne and feel his breath on your skin made it hard for you to focus on getting anything productive done. Not to mention that he was begging for you to kiss him almost every other second. You had delivered more kisses to his lips in the past 4 hours than you could even begin to count— enough to satiate anyone for a week or more.
But not Seunghan.
When he was still sleepy, he was content with just laying his head in your lap and having you occasionally play with his hair. But now that he was fully awake and filled with energy, he was practically buzzing by your side, looking for any chance he could to steal a kiss from you.
“I already gave you enough.” You dismissed his request and turned your attention back to your laptop and the essay you were working on.
“But it would only take a second!” He pleaded, bringing his face even closer to yours and frowning, trying his best to make you cave. You willed yourself to not even look at him. One glance at his pretty face and you knew your will would start to crumble.
“You and I both know you wouldn’t be satisfied with just a 1 second kiss.” You said mindlessly, typing the start to your paragraph on your keyboard. You felt Seunghan nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder.
“Yeah, but it would benefit both of us to kiss for longer.” He mumbled, and though you hadn’t heard his reasons why yet, you were already agreeing to his statement silently. Still, you had to keep ignoring him if you had any hope of turning in your essay on time.
“How so?”
“It would make me happy?” Seunghan offered, making a small smile form on your lips.
“And?”
“And… You like kissing me?”
“And?” Your gaze was still firmly focused on the computer screen, though you and Seunghan both were aware that you hadn’t typed a sentence in over a minute.
“And… I guess I’d let you finish your essay in peace if you kiss me.” He let out finally along with an over dramatic sigh that had you stifling a laugh.
“Fine. Just one kiss.”
As you finally turned around to your ecstatic boyfriend to give him the promised kiss, you both knew it wouldn’t be the last one today. Seunghan was just impossible to resist, no matter how hard you tried.
↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr,, @chiiyuuvv,, @evalevaeva
#fics ❀˖°#﹒events 𓈃 ⵌ#k-labels#seunghan#hong seunghan#riize#riize seunghan#riize hong seunghan#riize fic#riize fluff#riize fanfic#seunghan fluff#seunghan fic#seunghan fanfic#seunghan x reader#riize x reader#riize seunghan x reader#hong seunghan fluff#hong seunghan fic#hong seunghan fanfic#hong seunghan x reader#riize hong seunghan x reader
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hii
okay so my request is an angsty mingyu drabble. they have to break up because oc accepts a job offer on the other side of the world. so she basically chooses her career over mingyu
Thank you for waiting my love I'm so sorry but I hope you like the finished product! <3
Synopsis: You're taking a new job offer in another country, and Mingyu does not take it very well.
Tags: NonIdol!AU, Angst, Flasbacks, Established Relationship
Length: approx. 2.6k words
Mingyu x Reader - One-Way
The airport was bustling when you made it through baggage claim, with people running to and from the gates hoping to make it where they needed to before the next flight took off. When you saw your gate, you felt your pace slow, ultimately stopping as you felt your rolling suitcase knock against the back of your leg.
When your neck craned up to the sign entering the gate, you inhaled a deep breath.
Seoul (ICN) - London (LHR) - Boarding in 15 minutes.
You checked the boarding pass that you kept up on your phone for the past week. The gates and flight numbers matched the sign, thank goodness. With the final check complete, your eyes lifted to the corner of the pass.
One-Way
At the end of the last quarter, you were offered a massive promotion by your Boss to celebrate your hard work. You were thrilled! All of those hours spent slaving over your computer screen, covering exhausted bags under your eyes, and sitting through hours of meetings that made jumping out a window seem more exciting had finally paid off! There was just one catch.
The new job was managing the latest branch of the company. In London. Overseas.
“It’s a lot to consider. Please, take some time to think everything over. I need to give them an answer by the end of the month.” Your boss had said to you.
You took that entire month to think about it, contemplating it with everyone you knew. Everyone you’d ultimately be leaving behind. Every one, though sad, gave very similar responses.
“I’m so happy for you!” Cried your mother.
“That’s an incredible opportunity!” Said your coworkers.
“I’ll miss you so much but you can’t turn that down!” your brother insisted.
“I needed a reason to visit London anyway!” said your best friend said cheekily.
You sat down on one of the chairs, watching as people passed by, heading in every direction to get to their destination. Suitcases rolled against the tile, families shouted at each other to encourage the herd to move faster, and people panicked as they tried to find their gate. The hecticness of your surroundings was enough to calm your mind because the more you thought about people's reactions to your departure, the more one specific person’s voice kept trying to wiggle its way to the forefront of your mind. When it did, you simply closed your eyes and rubbed your temples.
The plane was going to board in 15 minutes. You couldn’t.
Hoping to distract yourself, you made your way to a nearby convenience store in the airport, grabbing a few snacks for the long plane ride and a coffee. You began pacing right by your gate, your carry-on perched on the nearest chair. Hopefully, moving will pass the time and keep you calm. The longer those fifteen minutes drudged on, the more you felt the nerves bubbling in your chest. Taking a long sip of your coffee, you looked up at the sign by the boarding entrance.
Ten minutes.
A deep inhale, another sip of coffee, and a mental promise that this was the right choice.
Just as you were going to sit back down, you thought you heard something from within the airport. You turned, scanning the packed area for who could possibly be calling your name. It sounded distant, yet familiar enough to make you shiver. When you didn’t immediately clock anyone, you turned back towards the gate, and wondered if you were just tired.
Your name was called again, louder this time. Feeling your heart rate spike, you immediately recognized the voice and turned towards it. As you did, you saw a familiar face towering over the rest of the confused travelers as he headed in your direction.
“Mingyu?” You stood up, the action alone immediately catching his attention. His eyes widened, pace quickened. You watched as he politely tried to worm through crowds and lines, hoping to not disturb those trying to get to their own destinations. Despite this, you could see the fire in his eyes to get to you.
It caused an ache in your heart you hadn’t felt since you told Mingyu about this entire trip in the first place. This was the voice you were hoping not to hear before boarding. Your lips dipped into a frown as the image of MIngyu’s wide stunned eyes stared at you from across your dining room table, a similar look on panic as the ones approaching your now.
“....You’re moving to London?”
“Fuck..” you gasped under your breath.
MIngyu finally made it to you, and before you could ask what he was doing in the airport ten minutes before your flight, he pulled you into a tight hug. Your arms immediately locked around him; impulsive in its movement. A second nature to you. The both of you stood in silence for a long moment, and for a second you thought you’d missed your flight with how much time it felt had passed.
“Yeah, I got a new job opportunity.”
Mingyu watched as you got up from your chair, heading to the fridge for a drink. His eyes followed you. “And you took it?”
You turned to him. “Well, I haven’t confirmed anything yet…but I think I might.”
Mingyu shook his head as if he had misheard you. “Jagiya, when did you get told this?”
“Maybe…a week ago?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, releasing Mingyu before the rest of the memory continued in your mind. “...What are you doing here?” You whispered into his chest.
Mingyu pulled back, looking down at you. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving today,” he said softly.
You knew the answer. If Mingyu knew today was the day you were leaving, he would have come with the intent to keep you from boarding the plane.
“...I didn’t think you’d want to.” You ultimately said, and the rest of your last conversation with Mingyu kept playing like a painful tape recording.
“And you didn’t tell me until now?” Mingyu was now up from his chair.
“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure what I would do! I didn’t tell anyone yet!” You turned to him. “I wanted to tell you first.”
Mingyu’s body relaxed, but he was still guarded. You could see it in how his eyes scanned your features. “But this is how you tell me?”
“How else do you expect me to tell you?” You asked curiously. Mingyu’s eyes cast down as he thought for a minute. “Mingyu, hon, I tried to think of what to say and how, but I don’t know how else to-.”
“Don’t go.”
Your eyes looked up to Mingyu as the sound of an airplane landing brought you back to reality. “What?” you asked.
“Don’t go.” Mingyu said. “I told you already, don’t go.”
“Mingyu….Did you just come here to try and convince me not to go again?”
“No, I just…” he gripped your hands. “I tried not to come but didn’t know what else to do.”
You could hear the hurt in the way he spoke to you, the way he grabbed your hands. You could feel the trembling in his hands. “Mingyu…” you said softly.
“Mingyu, you can’t-.”
“Please don’t go.” He repeated, firmer this time. “I’m begging you, please.”
“But, I…but this is an opportunity of a lifetime.”
“Why can’t that opportunity be here? With me?” You watched him walk over to you, closing the distance and bringing you close to him. Almost as if he could close any distance between the two of you with a simple, tight embrace. “London’s so far away….”
“I know…” You said.
You could still see the determination in his eyes, eager to make you stay. Mingyu was usually pretty docile; easy going in your relationship. This side of him was uncommon. “Is it money?”
“Huh?”
“Is it money?” he asked. “I don’t have much but I’ll make double, triple of what you’ll make if it means you’ll stay.”
“No, please don’t say that.” You could feel his hands tighten around yours. “Mingyu, please.”
“Mingyu, please….” you said softly, reaching up to run a hand in his hair, hoping to soothe him. “Look at me.”
Mingyu looked at you just as an announcement blared overhead.
Flight 220 to London is boarding in five minutes. Please have your boarding pass ready and make sure you have all of your luggage.
“So this is really it?” Mingyu asked softly. You looked at him. You could see tears brimming in his eyes. “Really?”
“Ah.” Finally, you felt your own eyes get heavy, tears stinging in the back of them desperate to fall. But the minute one did you’d be back in his arms and heading towards the nearest airport exit. Mingyu’s features softened, and he rubbed his cheeks.
“Ah, I’m being selfish.”
“You’re being selfish!” You shouted, and the room finally went quiet. Mingyu’s eyes widened, mouth opening despite no words wanting to come out. He seemed to realize, as his eyes dipped down to the floor, that he was in fact being selfish. Asking you to turn down the opportunity of a lifetime, just for him.
Not that you hadn’t thought about it. Millions of sleepless nights and tear-stained pillows as you reminded yourself that while your opportunities were in London, your future was staying behind in Korea.
Mingyu shook his head. “....Is this absolutely, one hundred percent what you want?” he asked.
You were silent for a minute, knowing that once this answer left your lips, there’d be no going back.
“...Yes.” You said. “I want to take this opportunity while I can….”
Mingyu’s eyes brimmed with more tears as he looked away from you, but he quickly swallowed them deep into his stomach before exhaling out a soft, “...Okay…”
“Okay.” Mingyu said. “You should…board your plane.”
“Mingyu.” You wiped your eyes, but Mingyu reached out and brushed yoru hand away so he could do it himself. You could see that he was trying to stay strong, the last of his fighting disappearing when he staggered out of your apartment in a daze the night you told him. The last night until now that you had heard from him.
“Just tell me you’ll keep in touch.” he said softly. You chuckled.
“Sure.” you said. “....Of course.” Mingyu nodded.
“I’m sorry.” he said. “That I was selfish. It’s an amazing opportunity,” he said. Mingyu rubbed his hand on his pants. “I just…I wish I could be a part of it….”
MIngyu had suggested a long-distance relationship in his frantic attempt to keep you in his orbit, but your response now was the same as it was then.
“That would be more painful for the both of us and you know it.”
Mingyu nodded his head, seeming to recoil at the repeat statement. “Right…”
When you saw people at your gate start lining up, you grabbed your luggage and rubbed your eyes one last time. “Have a safe flight.” Mingyu said.
You nodded. “Thanks.” you strained. Mingyu’s eyes flickered with a second of uncertainty, and you didn’t have a lot of time before he leaned in and kissed you, arms tight on your waist. You kissed him back.
His last attempt to make you stay and god was it his best one yet. No screaming or crying, no pointless pleas or even threats. Just a reminder of the one thing you were leaving behind that hurt the most…Your fingers curled into his biceps, and for a second your mind flickered with doubt.
But the kiss ultimately ended, and you looked up at Mingyu. Now, you reached up, the one to wipe his eyes before they leaked tears. “I’ll let you know when I land.” you assured. You couldn’t promise him much else, but that seemed to do the trick. He cracked a small smile.
“Okay.” he said. Finally needing to pull away for good, you stepped back.
“Goodbye, Mingyu…” you said. Mingyu nodded.
“Goodbye.”
You knew Mingyu stayed locked in place, wanting to watch until the plane was long behind the clouds. It hurt, and you couldn’t bare to look at him anymore.
It took fifteen minutes to get on the plane, put your carry on above your head and nestle into your seat. Turning towards the window, you looked into the airport as if you could still see him from the distance. But you had no luck. Bulky as he was, Mingyu blended in with the rest of the airport, growing smaller and smaller the farther onto the runway the plane pulled. You eventually had to look away when your eyes got to glassy, the window looking like you were underwater rather than headed towards the skies.
Leaning your head against the headrest, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The flight safety announcements were beginning.
A shaky inhale, a sip of cold coffee, and a mental promise that this was the right choice.
#seventeen fanfiction#svt fic#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#svt#kpop#mingyu x reader#mingyu angst#mingyu imagine#seungcheol#scoups#jeonghan#jisoo#joshua#jun#woozi#wonwoo#hoshi#dokyeom#seokmin#mingyu#kim mingyu#the8#minghao#seungkwan#vernon#dino#lee chan
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be mine
an: heehee happy valentines day! there is still more to come so don't worry i'm not stopping here
pairings: timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader
warnings: little angst, lots of fluff, lots of pet names, confessions of feelings
-
the steady drum of volleyballs hitting the hardwood floor distracts atsumu's thoughts for a while. soles squeaking, teammates shouting, and the tune of the coach's whistle bouncing off of the walls. he's finally out of his head.
but, as always, the regular discussions in the locker room pull him right back in.
"how long has it been? three months? and you still haven't asked her out?"
atsumu hums, shutting his locker and giving hinata an exhausted look. "yeah, since before christmas."
"what's the hold-up?" bokuto pats atsumu on the back with wiggling eyebrows. "is little 'tsumie afraid?"
that makes him irritated. he knows he should have made things official weeks ago. the badgering isn't helping, though.
"shut up," he huffs and hides a frown with the hoodie that's pulled over his head. "until ya get a girlfriend kotaro, i don't wanna hear shit."
bokuto whistles. "okay, okay. but seriously, what's the issue?"
atsumu thinks for a second. he's honestly not really sure. he's been meaning to, he just can't find the right time.
but, he's pretty sure that's just an excuse.
"you don't have an excuse miya," sakusa smirks as they walk towards the parking lot. "i agree kotaro, i think he's scared."
"no!" atsumu quips, a little quickly. "i mean, i don't know. i really don't know. i want to, i just...can't."
"is it her? does she want to? are you getting mixed signals?" hinata rests against the hood of his car.
"no, she's always happy to talk to me. she gets excited to see me, buys me dinner, and responds immediately. she's perfect."
"soooo," sakusa raises his eyebrows. atsumu sighs.
"i just don't want to disappoint her."
his stomach flips. he's thought about it for months at this point. he wanted to make you his before the first date was over. but, his past got in the way, clouding his confidence just a touch.
past girls using him for the little money he makes. some girls accusing him of spending too much time at volleyball, and not providing enough attention. others just in it for attention, lusting after the instagram posts and twitter updates with their faces in them.
atsumu wants you to be his, and he doesn't want you to leave.
"atsumu, it's been three months. i think she knows you by now. besides, if she was interested in you for the wrong reasons, wouldn't she have left by now?" bokuto's words help atsumu to relax a little.
"yeah, yer right. god, what do i even do? i feel like a fuckin' high schooler," he whines, throwing his bag into his car.
"you're in luck. valentine's day is tomorrow, which means you have the perfect reason," sakusa slides into his car. "c'mon miya, where's your romantic side?"
atsumu thinks about that the entire drive home. he doesn't know what to do. he considers taking you out to a nice dinner, somewhere fancy and luxurious. but, reservations have probably been booked for months. he thinks about using a card, but that's lame. really, he wants to call you for advice, just like he does with everything, but that won't work.
he throws himself on his bed with a sigh.
maybe he'll never ask.
little does he know, you're in the same boat.
sitting cross-legged in the middle of your bedroom floor, you look like an art project gone wrong. glue sticks, markers, and different shades of pink cardstock litter the ground hiding the failed cards and notes from before. you sigh, putting the finishing touches on what you hope to be the final product.
a small, pink card with a bumble bee and hearts with the words bee mine in shaky cursive underneath. you're still deciding what to fill the inside with.
you don't want to say too much, but you also want to make sure you get your feelings out. it's been almost six weeks, and atsumu still hasn't made things official with you. you see him at least three times a week, he takes you to dinner but never calls them dates. he invites you to parties, event dinners, and even took you to his cousin's wedding last weekend.
what's taking him so long?
as soon as you see the clock on the wall, you groan. atsumu should be here any minute, and you haven't written a word on his card yet. he asked you if he could come over tonight, saying he was dying to see ya. since it's the night before valentines, you decide this may be your only shot. you quickly scribble something down, hearing his footsteps through the thin walls of your apartment. quick hands shove the evidence into a garbage bag before you scurry to wash up.
"honey, i'm home!" atsumu sings as he opens the door. "wait! close yer eyes!"
"why should i listen to someone who just entered my home without permission?" you say, eyes firmly closed from your spot on the couch.
"yet, ya listened anyway huh?" he teases when you flip him off from the couch. "keep em' closed pretty. i'm not ready yet."
your heart beats a little quicker. "o-okay, but i have to tell you something."
"alright sweetheart. just a second," he grunts, tripping over the strings of the five heart balloons that he holds in his left hand. he shuffles over to you at sets down a container of chocolate-covered strawberries (that he had to beg osamu to make), and a dozen roses. you smile when you hear the crinkle of cellophane.
atsumu's stomach is doing flips, but he can't do this anymore.
"okay, you can open." his voice sounds a lot more nervous than he would've liked. when you open them, he can't quite read your face.
"atsumu," you breathe. you aren't sure where to look.
"i know, it's a lot, but listen," he flops down next to you, grabbing your hands in his. "i didn't want to be lame but, i just wanted to tell you."
"okay," you ease him on. he takes a deep breath, before smiling wide.
"i think that ya have got to be the most beautiful girl i have ever seen in my life," he looks at you with hearts in his eyes. "from the moment i met ya, i wanted to make ya mine. i want to be the one ya come home to after a long day, i want to see ya in the stands during my games with my jersey on," his cheeks get a little pink.
"i want ya to be mine. my girlfriend."
"atsumu," you breathe, just like before. this time is a little more shaky, but with a bigger smile. "i want to be yours. i want you to be mine."
he laughs running his hand through his hair. "really?"
you nod, holding his face in your hands.
"really," you smile, pulling him in for a kiss. atsumu doesn't pull away until he absolutely has to, wanting to drown in this moment and keep it forever.
"baby, i don't think ya know how happy i am right now," he really can't stop smiling, no matter how hard he tries. he feels like a weight has been lifted off of his chest, amazed at the instant relief he feels after telling you.
"you didn't have to do all of this!" you pull at the balloons, watching them bounce off of one another.
"yes i did! plus, ya gotta try one of these. my brother made 'em and they're amazin'." you reach down to grab one, but he stops you.
"let me grab one!" you giggle, but he smirks.
"what's in your hand?"
you freeze, forgetting all about the card that rests between your fingertips.
"nothing."
"oh c'mon angel, lemme see!"
you shake your head, but he persists.
"why not!"
"because it's stupid, especially compared to all of this!" you gesture towards the flowers and berries.
"please," he begs, giving you a large pout. you roll your eyes.
"fine, but save the comments for yourself. i worked really hard on it."
atsumu pulls the card from it's envelope slowly before giving a quiet gasp.
"i know, i know, it looks like a preschooler did it. just give it back and-"
"are ya kidding me?" he practically shrieks. "this is goin' straight on my locker. 'gonna tape it right to the front."
"are you serious?"
"mhm," he hums, smirking when he reads the inside of the card.
happy valentine's day atsumu. you're the most handsome man i've ever met, and the funniest too. i hope that you will "bee mine" once and for all.
"what's so funny?"
"nothin', i'm just thinkin' that you might have a crush on me."
you roll your eyes, scooching a little closer to him on the couch. he wraps his arms around you and plants a kiss on top of your head.
"for the record, i have a crush on ya too. a huge one."
#heidslovesickevent#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader fluff#atsumu x reader fluff#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu#atsumu miya
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ᴠɪʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴍ! ꜱ/ᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ
Synopsis: Being stressed 24/7 with over blots and barely getting by with the limited cash you have, it's no wonder you barely noticed the red lumps all over your face that seem ready to burst.
Character/s: Vil
A/N: wrote this because I'm also breaking out so badly and also because I'm almost done with Book 5 WOOOO. Vil might be a little ooc imo ;;
also excuse any spelling mistakes, I wrote on 3 hours of sleep 😭
If you knew about how bad your face looked, you would've made an attempt to hide it better. But thanks to Ace who immediately called you 'pepperoni face' upon your arrival, you knew you had limited time before running into Vil.
It was bad enough you were stressed over classes, over blots sprouting everywhere, and Grim causing trouble everywhere you went, that you barely had time to take care of yourself, now you had to worry about Vil finding out about your face before you run into each other. Or worse, Rook sees you and tells him of your problem.
But it seems like luck was not on your side after you tried to sneak back to your dorm when someone cleared their throat behind you. Slowly turning around, you began to wish the ground would swallow you as you made eye contact with Vil's. And he does not look happy.
He opens his mouth to scold you for avoiding him but after scanning your face, Vil closes his mouth and sighs. "Have you not been following the skincare routine I've given you?"
Grimacing at his sharp, accusing tone, you turn your face away as you felt tears sting your eyes, head pounding from the stress that had piled upon piles. Vil shakes his head, "Come with me, Potatoe." Then turns to leave back to his dorm. With no other choice, you decide to follow him, wiping at the tears that managed to slip through.
Now here you were, sitting in front of Vil in clean clothing, because he "doesn't want to dirty his bed with outside germs,". Never have you felt so nervous as he was quick to slather some skincare products on you. On the way here, he hadn't said a word about your face or you avoiding him the entire day.
Once he finished putting on a face mask to deal with the pimples, he turns to his mirror, ties his hair up, and begins to work on himself. Finally, he speaks.
"So, [Name], what has been keeping you from taking care of yourself?"
That's when the damn breaks, your bottom lip begins to wobble as tears slid down your face, the face mask Vil had gently applied had been ruined from your tears and you desperately to wipe them away, but alas, you had failed. Too busy wiping your tears, you don't notice Vil turning back around in his seat to face you. Gently, he rests a hand on your head, thumb rubbing at your hairline.
Sniffling, you look up at him as he gazes at you with soft eyes. Vil softly kisses the crown of your head and embraces you, not caring that both of your masks rubbed onto each other's clothing. The warmth radiating from his body sends more tears down your cheeks as you swallowed air to hold back a sob.
Vil brushes his finger through your hair. Earlier it was tangled due to you arriving late to school thanks to Grim keeping you up with his sleep talking, thus leaving you with little to no time to fix your hair.
Once you calmed down, you spilled all of the problems that had you stressed out to Vil. How Grim kept getting you in trouble for sleeping in class, how you failed the last exam and needed to retake it, to how Ace called you 'pepperoni face' earlier. You could've gone all day if not for Vil using a manicured finger to wipe at your tear-stricken eyes.
"It'll be alright, [Name]," He spoke softly, never had he been so gently with anybody. But you weren't just anybody. You were his girlfriend. And although he was harsh on you too, Vil only showed this side of him to you. "You know, you can come to me whenever you need help?"
"Mhm," You sniffle as an embarrassed smile spreads on your face. "Sorry about all... that." Vil clicks his tongue, separating from you to head to his drawer to fish out some clean shirts for the both of you.
"There's no need to apologize," He heads back with the folded items in his hands and passes you a new shirt. "Crying is a great way to relieve stress,"
The rest of the day consisted of Vil treating you to face masks, relaxing shoulder messages, and tons of love.
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need late sias!alex as a barista and u as the annoying customer who comes in during closing time. he angry fucks you in the bathroom cuz u annoy him
“cuz u annoy him” makes me giggle, but here you are anon!
“...and that’s why I stopped paying my taxes!”
You speak into your phone’s speaker, swinging the doors of the small cafe open. Caught up in a conversation over the phone, you miss the scowl on the barista’s face as you saunter towards the counter. The lights of your favorite coffee spot have warmly dimmed, the minimal lighting enhancing the coziness of the atmosphere. This lighting, however, is an indication that closing time is near. To the dismay of the night shift barista, Alex, you have always made it your business to show up right before the doors close. Your horrible timing isn’t entirely your fault, though; 1) you’ve got things to do, 2) the cafe has become rather popular recently, and your patience isn’t the best. Why would you want to wait in line?
Your conversation continues even when faced with the barista, completely ignoring the chairs sitting on the empty tables, the lemon scent of cleaning products breezing past your nose entirely. The barista’s cute, large doe eyes look up at you from the counter he’s wiping down with a bleach-stained rag; he doesn’t seem happy to see you.
“Hold on just one second...” you say to the barista and your rambling friend on the phone. Digging into your bra, you pull out the crumpled-up bills and coins for your usual drink, all in exact change. You hand him the money with a warm, lip gloss-coated smile. You’ll see if he’s worthy of a tip.
“You know what to do.” You finish with a wink before he takes the money out of your manicured hands. Your perfume's pleasant candy scent lingers when you turn your heel to the tables behind you, dizzying and addictive to his nostrils, but he scowls as soon as you pick up a chair. Plopping down, you continue entertaining your friend on the phone, and you aren’t quiet about it.
“Yeah, I’m at the cafe now. It’s so cute!” you squeal. “You should totally hit it up sometime. Make sure the Elvis-looking guy makes your drink, though. He’s the best.”
Your words wash away the barista’s annoyance as he prepares your drink, knowing your preferences like strings on a guitar, pure muscle memory. Your loud mouth quickly tarnishes this somewhat peaceful moment.
“It’s the ginger-haired girl you gotta watch out for. Ugh, she’s the worst! Can’t make a drink for shit. And guess what? I found a hair in my muffin! When I flipped out on her, she kept saying, ‘Calm down,’” You do perhaps your worst impression of the nasally lady, “and she was like, ‘Do you want another muffin?’ No! I want my money back, Ed Sheeran!”
Your friend on the other line laughs alongside you, a bubbly yet ear-piercing cackle that makes Alex almost crush the mixer in his hands. His brain bounces from wanting to hear your laughter again to shutting you up with a kiss. As your gums continue flapping, you allow your eyes to examine the barista behind the counter. His backside is as cute as his front, the lean muscle of his shoulders contracting under his white t-shirt, strong arms flexing as he scoops up the ice and pours it into the mixer. You put a gelled nail between your teeth as you watch him, shifting in your seat as your panties become uncomfortably wet.
“Hey! Are you still there?” Your friend calls on the other line.
“Yeah!” Your cheeks warm up at the interruption, “Like I said, make sure Elvis makes your drink. You’ll know exactly what he looks like. If his back is turned, just look for the one with the cute butt.”
Alex is thankful his back is turned, your words tinting his face a rosy red. The silver bell on the counter dings once your drink is prepared. You don’t bother putting the chair back as you approach the counter. You thoroughly look through the transparent cup, ensuring the amount of ice and the number of dried fruit is accurate; you have no notes. Taking a sip, you let the liquid linger on your tongue before swallowing. Cold, sweet, and punchy; you couldn’t ask for more. You reenter your bra, dig out some change, and place it into the tip jar near the register. Your sunny, warm smile conflicts with the barista’s snowy, freezing shoulder.
“Thanks, Alan!”
“Alex.”
Your eyes dart to the pastry case behind him, a croissant drizzled with chocolate catching your eye. “How much for that croissant? It looks tasty…”
“For you? Free of charge.” He’s more concerned with getting you out of here before you give him gray hairs.
“Wow, really?” you beam in amazement. “You’re so kind! Alan, you’re the best! You’re way nicer than that ginger chick who tried to poison me. Ugh, she doesn’t work here anymore, does she? So unprofessional. She’d be better at scrubbing toilets than making drinks.”
Alex smirks at your remarks as he hands you the pastry in a white paper bag. “You mean my boss?”
“That’s your boss?” You immediately take the pastry out of the bag, biting into the flaky treat. “She’s in the wrong line of work if you ask me!”
“Oh, yeah? Do tell.”
Your mouth moves before you can detect the sarcasm in his voice. You’re oblivious to the flakes falling into your shirt, decorating your cleavage as you continue munching and talking. Alex second-guesses giving you a napkin before handing you a few from the dispenser. If he didn't, he’d have more reason to stare at your chest. Flakes and chocolate stain the corners of your mouth and lip, and he hates to admit it, but you’re looking very…cute.
“Anyway,” you finish, wiping yourself clean, “You should totally be running this place, Alan. It doesn’t hurt that you’re super hot, too. Just work on the resting bitch face, and you’ll be amazing!”
Your final comment digs painfully into his skin, and it’s a shame. He was starting to like you.
“You’re too pretty to be talking with your mouth full,” Alex crosses his lean arms over his chest. “ I could teach you proper etiquette if you’d like. I’m a tough teacher, though. Be warned.”
Offended, you blink wildly before smiling at the compliment he snuck into his invitation. You gladly accept.
“You think I’m pretty?”
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The cold marble of the bathroom sink raises the tiny hairs on your skin. You claw at it to no avail, sheepishly bent over the sink with your thong and velour tracksuit pants hugging your ankles. The empty bathroom echoes a slapping sound, a mixture of wetness and the noise of your ass against Alex’s relentless hips. His cock drives in and out of you at a brutal pace; each thrust angrier than the next.
“You’re awfully quiet,” his large palm comes down on your ass with a vicious spank. “Come on…you were mouthin’ off about a muffin just a minute ago.”
Your cunt gushes at his words, the tight walls of your core needily squeezing him in a vice grip. Lust clouds your brain, unable to form a witty comeback to his statements, your weak moans becoming a new language. Before you lay your head on the marble, Alex fists your hair in a ponytail, tugging you upwards to face the mirror. Ignoring the messy reflection, you allow your eyes to roll into your skull, heat beginning to pool in your stomach, his cock hitting the right spots repeatedly and harshly.
“We’ll figure out a use for your mouth in the next lesson. You're doing a great job at taking me, muffin.”
#mickey is typing…#alex turner fanfic#alex turner smut#alex turner x reader#alex turner x you#so much fun to write! apologies for the wait!
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the thing is that because so much of my close family is dead now that when the show opening happened i only had 3 people in my whole family to send the photos to and only 1 of them replied to me (my mom) because the others are too busy to reply to me. and i told my mom i didn't feel happy or proud or anything i just felt sad and horrifically lonely in a way that can't really be fixed and i spent the entire next 2 days crying and i'm still crying. and i sent the photos to my stupid asshole father as well and he didn't even care. and the man who raised me would care but he is so deep into alzheimers and Deaf so he doesn't remember a lot anymore and can't use the phone so he just knows i'm Away and keeps asking everyone when i'm coming back to him and that is its own immense grief in itself. so i can't show him or really tell him about any of this either. and it's all so excruciatingly painful the only productive way i can deal with any of this is to put it into my work, and that's what i did, and i made something beautiful with it, but i'm still left with this unresolvable grief and in the end the only thing i feel when i finish a project like this is relief, and it lasts for only a moment before i have to start again or i'll get trapped in my grief and become completely nonfunctional
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