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#everything up in the next season so the writing is rushed
smokestarrules · 1 year
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eight-episode seasons becoming the norm, shows being cancelled after their first or second season altogether, corporations not spending a single dollar to promote their renewed shows, corporations deciding to renew based on how many people binge it over and over and over again... this is the slow, choking death of media literacy. 
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jamminvroomvroom · 5 months
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777.
ln x fem!reader
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in which lando has a wild week in vegas
on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol
posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍
inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic
warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit
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lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.
the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.
it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.
they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember. 

everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.
everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.
he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.
by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.
a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.
suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.
lando couldn’t look away from you.
you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.
from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.
things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.
but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.
his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.
internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.
“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.
lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.
“you’re on.”
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he lost.
every. single. game.
numbers were never lando’s thing.
it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.
the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.
he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.
it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.
the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.
“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.
he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.
it seemed he’d finally met his match.
you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.
your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.
slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.
happy fucking birthday.
lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.
you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.
“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.
lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.
he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.
lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.
and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.
when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.
you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.
lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.
lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.
fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.
you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.
he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.
and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.
lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.
with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.
your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.
he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.
lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.
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apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.
lando remembered everything.
the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.
your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.
the way you gave as good as you got.
he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.
warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.
lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.
is this how he made people feel?
waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.
he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?
hope breeds eternal misery.
his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.
lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.
just like he usually was.
it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.
when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.
-
“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.
lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.
“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.
“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”
“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.
“bullshit.”
“woke up alone.”
“oh.”
“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.
“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.
“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”
“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”
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lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.
he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.
the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.
carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.
lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.
there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.
just who were you?
lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.
you fucking winked.
he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.
but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.
had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?
every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.
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the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.
lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.
okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.
he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.
lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.
fate had other plans.
lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.
“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.
as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.
“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.
what the actual fuck were you doing here?
lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?
“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.
lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.
“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”
“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.
well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.
“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.
“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”
“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.
“maybe i’ll see you next year.”
lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.
this would be the drive of his fucking life.
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lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.
media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.
he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.
a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.
sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.
lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.
kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.
“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”
-
hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.
lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.
he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.
all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.
lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.
you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.
lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.
the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.
lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.
he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.
you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.
lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.
the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.
“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.
lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.
“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.
“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.
“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.
“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.
lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.
the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.
when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.
“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.
“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”
“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.
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blitzyn · 9 months
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pervert
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miguel o'hara x spiderman!reader
request : none
Synopsis: A game of cat and mouse goes to shit, and you find yourself bound in Miguel's webs.
a/n -> literally nobody asked for this but he's been stuck in my mind for decades and i wanted to get something out for my bbg <3 also super sorry i disappeared again, writers block straight up bitch slapped me and left me in a ditch, plus ive been losing interest in writing for genshin or just the game in general, unfortunately.
wc -> 3.3k
cw -> very dubcon, mean dom miguel, degradation, bondage?, face fucking, google translated spanish, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, slight and brief choking, (semi) public sex??, not beta read
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Exhilaration filled your veins as breathy laughs escaped your throat, weaving through buildings and rubble with the precision of someone who has experienced this type of chase countless times before.
And that's because you have. You've been in a near never-ending game of cat and mouse with the esteemed Miguel O'Hara, always close enough to feel the swipe of his talons in the air but too far to catch. No matter how many times he's cornered you, you always find a way to get past him; it was predictable at this point.
That pissed Miguel off like no other, hellbent on capturing you to put an end to your snide remarks, to put you in your place. While that usually would've enticed you in any other circumstance, you weren't too keen on letting him dig his claws into you now that you were chest-deep in this predicament — and his wrath.
"Stop running, already!" he shouted, the sharp edges of fury evident in his voice.
"I'm not running!" you respond, peering back at him with a smug grin. True to your words, you, quite literally, were not running. You were swinging with the agility of a seasoned acrobat, twisting and flipping through debris while looking like you were having fun. You offered him occasional glances and nearly laughed each time. Seeing him, a grown-ass man, almost constantly on all fours was amusing, but hearing him curse and grunt and growl made electricity shoot down your spine in a way that nearly got you caught several times.
Adrenaline filled your body and threatened to burst through your chest each time you evaded him. "Missed me!" you laughed, juking away from his swipe.
"So close!" you flip over him with a taunt. "Try again next time!"
"¡Voy a matarte!¹" He growls, and it was hard to ignore the shudder that rushed through your body. You slightly winced at the feeling. If you don't get your shit together when he spoke Spanish, then you were asking to get caught.
But it's not like you'd mind — Actually, yes, you fucking would!
You click your teeth in annoyance. Despite how hard you tried, you couldn't remove Miguel from your thoughts even though he was right behind you, hunting you down like a wild animal. Your mind strayed toward his broad shoulders, beautifully tiny waist, fat ass (that you'd give a lot to slap), and the massive piece of rubble being hurled at your body.
You blink out of your stupor, feeling your senses going off rather violently. Oh shit.
Everything seemed to move painfully slow as you stared at the debris with wide eyes, noticing Miguel's red web attached to it as he brought it down. You flung your arm out in an attempt to attach your webs to something and swing away, but was unable to pull yourself fast enough as the debris pinned you down to the roof of a building.
"Fuck!" you thought as you grunted and squeezed your eyes shut, agony tearing through your entire body. Swiftly, you pushed against the ground to shove the heavy object off of you, groaning with effort. Just as you managed to stand back up, you heard the familiar thwip! of his web wrapping around your waist and arms to yank you to him.
"Caught you," he said, voice rough and breathless as he panted hard. He loomed over you menacingly, hands curled into a fist.
You struggled, kicking and straining against your binds. "Come on, Miguel." You offer a tense grin. "We both know this won't last very long."
"Ay dios míos,²" he growled, dropping to a knee to roughly press a hand on your face, his fingers digging into your cheekbones. "¡Cállate!³"
...
Woah.
You stared at him with wide eyes, feeling your cock stir in your pants. Oh fuck.
It was hard to ignore your ever growing attraction (and hard-on) for him that seemed to intensify when he deactivated the hologram of his mask. Sweat beaded at his temple while his eyes narrowed at your bound figure, fangs peeking out from behind his lips as he caught his breath.
Even when you were the target of his anger, he was still breathtakingly hot.
You opened your mouth again to shout at him — probably to let you go or something along those lines — but Miguel wasn't having it.
"Why is it so much to ask for you to keep your fucking mouth shut for once?" he hissed, squeezing your cheeks tight enough to ache, but it only went straight to your dick. "Is that all you can do? Run your mouth until someone gets sick of your shit and shuts it for you? Huh?"
You whimpered, meekly shaking your head in denial. Tightly closing your eyes, you swallowed hard and squirmed, secretly trying to will away your hard cock straining against your clothes.
"You're so annoying! Stop moving," he demanded, reflexively looking down to adjust his position over you. His eyes raked over your body for a moment before zeroing in on your erection, pausing in surprise.
.
..
...
"Oh, you pervert."
Your eyelids snapped open at his words, mortification seeping deep in your chest as you shifted your head away from him in shame. Despite everything, you could only feel yourself getting harder under his intense gaze.
"Is that why you made me chase after you?" He forced you to look at him again, your face aching at his manhandling. "Because you wanted to fulfill some dirty fantasy of yours?"
He let out a dry laugh. "You couldn't find anyone willing to satisfy that depraved urge, so you turned to me. Just how desperate are you?"
You shook your head again, letting out muffled words. He mercifully removed his hand from your mouth to allow you to speak, sliding lower to rest on your throat. "I was just playing..."
"Yeah?" He tilted his head mockingly, momentarily adjusting himself to grope your painfully stiff dick. "And this was your master plan? To get off at the face of danger? You're more of a degenerate than I thought."
"N-No, I didn't—" you moaned, reflexively bucking your hips up into his hand.
"Stop lying." He squeezed the hand around your throat just enough to force labored gasps from you. "It's stupid how you don't think I've seen the way you look at me — how you think I haven't noticed you eyefucking me."
A furious blush rises on your cheeks as your cock twitches in his hold. It doesn't go unnoticed.
He laughed again, staring at you in mock disbelief. "You're enjoying this."
And this time, you don't deny it.
"Can't say I expected anything higher from you." He rolled his eyes in exasperation and removed his hands from your throat and dick to place them on your thighs. Effortlessly, he pried them apart to slot himself in between your legs, pressing his crotch flush against your ass.
Groaning, you lifted your hips a bit in an attempt to grind on him. With a growl, he swiftly slapped a hand on your abdomen to push you back on the ground.
"Don't move," he said, glaring at you with a mix of arousal and irritation in his eyes. "I've had enough of you getting your way." He leaned forward, a wince crossing your face when he pressed some of his weight onto your stomach. "It's my turn."
"My way—?" You cut yourself off with a huff when he gave you a stern look.
A thought seemed to pique his interest when he suddenly decided to kneel beside your head. It was nigh impossible to tear your eyes away from his crotch, the area beginning to glitch with a dim, pale blue glow at the strain from his hardening cock.
"Let's put your mouth to better use." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and deactivated the hologram covering his dick. It landed on your face with a quiet slap before his hand guided it to your lips.
You hesitantly parted them, only for them to be forced open wider to make room for his cock. You let out a surprised sound at the entry, but he was entirely focused on making you take him completely.
He was gracious enough to take it slow, relishing in the sounds of your gags and sputters and every deep inhale.
"Thaaat's it," he drawled out, sighing heavily when he felt your tongue rub against the underside of the shaft. "Fuck..."
Your eyelashes fluttered as he buried your nose into his pubic hair, uncontrollably drooling over him while you sucked and licked what you could. You felt him harden in your mouth, forcing himself deeper into your throat while it tightened and spasmed.
He increased the speed of his thrusts, absentmindedly shuffling closer to your face. A shiver ran down your spine when he slithered a hand on the junction between the back of your head and neck to hold you firmly.
A garbled whine left your throat as you subconsciously jerked your hips upwards, searching for some form of relief for your aching cock. You strained against the webs around your torso and arms, utterly intoxicated with his taste, his scent, his sounds—with him.
With a groan, he shoved himself as far as he could inside your throat and held you in place, ignoring how you instinctively struggled against him. A high-pitched ring sounded through your ears as your head spun, chest tightening with the need for oxygen.
Shuddering, he finally pulled out of you, watching with satisfaction as you coughed and gasped for air. A mix of saliva and precum connected your lips and the tip of his cock, to which you quickly licked away. You let him inspect you with a hand still buried in your hair, gaze locked in on your drool slicked chin and swollen lips.
A quiet hmph left him before he turned to place himself back in-between your thighs again, this time extending his talons to tear a path in your clothes from your ass to your crotch.
"H-Hey! Hold on—" you protested and kicked his arm away from you.
"Shut up," he cut you off, swatting your foot away while grasping your painfully hard cock again. "Don't act like you don't want this."
"G-God..." you moaned, furrowing your brows as you stared at him. A squeak left your throat when he suddenly pressed your legs to your chest, a quiet ptuh! escaping his lips alongside a glob of saliva that landed on your asshole.
Retracting his talons, he let go of one of your legs to press two fingers against your hole, shoving them inside you abruptly. You winced at the sting his thick fingers made as it mixed in with the arousal that burned in your gut. He separated them in a scissoring motion, moving in and out at a pace that had you yearning for more. His fingertips brushed against spots so frustratingly close to your prostate, you were sure he was purposefully avoiding it to mess with you.
"H-Hurry up," you demanded, the ache in your balls beginning to prove to be something you could hardly handle.
He gave you a sharp look. "Tell me to hurry up again and I'm leaving you like this."
You stared at each other for a moment longer before you looked away in defeat, muttering under your breath. He ignored you and added another finger, the wet squelching blending in with your soft moans. His hard cock pressed on your thigh, and you briefly wondered how he wasn't fucking you within an inch of your life already.
Quickly enough, you were able to realize that he wanted to make you wait. He wanted to give you a hard time — just like you did to him.
"C-C'mon, Miguel." You breathlessly chuckled, straining against the webs around your torso.
"What?" He raised a brow, satisfaction seeping into his expression at your growing desperation.
You opened your mouth again when he unexpectedly jabbed his fingertips onto your prostate, sending a violent surge of electricity through your body. "Fuck!" You cried out as a spurt of precum leaked out of your dick and enlarged the wet spot on your clothes. He continued targeting the gland, refusing to let you get a word in your sentence. The coil in your abdomen tightened into an almost unbearable degree before he abruptly removed his hand from you entirely.
"God, just fuck me already!" You jerked your hips upwards in a futile search for stimulation.
"You sound just like a whore," he commented, tone full of condescension. A heat washed over your body at his words as you stared at him with wide eyes. You tensed when he leaned down, lust and mirth swirling within his red irises. "Is that all you are?"
"What?" You found yourself unable to look away from him. "N-No, I—"
He shoved his cock inside you mid-sentence, tearing a loud moan from your throat. He held your thighs to fold you in half, using his body weight to pin you down. You panted hard as you tilted your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut. It was hard to focus on anything else but his dick filling you up so perfectly.
Miguel released a gutteral groan, grinding his hips against you. He dug his fingertips into your legs hard enough to bruise, but that was the least of his worries — not when he had you below him. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned back (mercifully removing some of the pressure on your chest) and watched himself move in and out of you, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed himself back inside.
"Ohh, fuck!"
"This is what gets you — mierda⁴ — all compliant, huh?" He taunted, abdomen flexing with every thrust. "The moment you get some dick inside you, you're like a trained mutt."
You opened your eyes to weakly glare at him, to deny what he said, but the moans spilling from your lips did nothing but prove him right.
"Te gusta cuando te trato como si no fueras nada, ¿no?⁵" He leaned back down, hooking his arms around the back of your knees as he pressed his chest against yours, curling his wrists around your thighs to grip the flesh. His breath was hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, lips so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice in your ear drum. "Aren't I right, you dirty little pervert?"
"N-No! S'not right!" You cried out, the burn of his cock stretching you out mixing in with the pleasure so deliciously it was almost addicting.
"Deja de mentirte y admítelo, puta,⁶" he hissed, widening his mouth to graze a fang along your neck threateningly, which sent a shiver down your spine. "Admit it — that you're a depraved whore."
"Admit it." He emphasized each syllable with a thrust, ramming into you hard enough to fuck the breath out of your lungs.
"Shit—fuck! Oh, god!" You sobbed, arching your back into him. You nearly came at the feeling of his abdomen rubbing your aching dick. "I'm a whore! M'your whore!"
His cock throbbed fervently at your words, rewarding you with groans and grunts directly into your ear. Your ass slightly stung at the force of his thrusts as he fucked his anger into you, but neither of you cared.
"Fuuuck!" You drawled out. "Miguel, m'so close! Let — ngh, ah — Let me cum!"
"Yeah?" He cooed in your ear, gently licking the shell. "You gonna cum f'me?"
"Yes, yes—!"
"Then beg."
He stopped moving so unexpectedly that it left you disoriented for a few moments as you stupidly stared at him with wide, watery eyes. "W-What...?"
"Beg to cum," he leaned away from you to get a clearer look at your face. "I'm not repeating myself."
You took a moment to catch your breath (and secretly savor the feeling of his dick twitching inside you). "God, please, Miguel! I need it so bad. I need to cum — please let me cum! I'll be good, I promise! Fuck, Miguel, please let me cum! Please, please, please!"
The sight of the tears along your lash lines sent electricity down his spine as his breath hitched. "You'll be good?" He dryly laughed. "I don't think I believe you."
You opened your mouth in defense when he suddenly slammed himself back inside you, tearing a moan instead of words from your throat. He fucked you hard and fast and deep, grunting in a way you could only describe as animalistic.
But you loved it. You loved how he controlled your body so effortlessly, how he treated you like a cheap fuck toy. You mentally deemed all those chases worth it in the end.
The heat from less than a minute or two prior returned full force as you tilted your head back in ecstasy. You babbled out incoherent words of (what Miguel suspected to be) praise, straining against your binds once again.
You screamed out when the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, electricity shooting down your spine as your cock spurt cum underneath your clothes. You weren't able to process the stain in the fabric when you realized that he hadn't slowed down, deciding to fuck you through your orgasm to chase his own.
You stared up at him, admiring the slight flush on his cheeks, how his brows furrowed in concentration, and even his eyes that shone with disdain towards you.
You could feel his dick throbbing inside you, and you quickly realized that he was about to cum as well. The ecstasy you were granted slowly began to merge with the pain of overstimulation, but it only made the hazy bliss you were in so much better.
"Yes, yes, Miguel!" You gasped out as your legs trembled in his hold. "Cum inside me, please, I want it!"
He grunted at your words, fucking you with a few more harsh thrusts before he suddenly pulled out. It took you a moment longer than normal for you to process the uncomfortable emptiness as he let go of one of your legs to quickly jerk himself off.
"What—No! Please, Miguel!" You pleaded uselessly, wincing when he tightened his grip on your thigh and unintentionally extended his talons. They penetrated through your clothes and pierced your skin, drawing a bit of blood, but that was neither of your concern at the moment.
"Ay, solo cállate ya,⁷" he growled, releasing your thigh to press his palm against your mouth to silence you. You let out pathetic whines and whimpers, but Miguel was focused on achieving his orgasm.
With a final few strokes, he finally came with a loud groan as his cum spurt onto the floor. He angled his hips to make sure none of it landed on you, much to your obvious dismay. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back and stared at your bound body, trembling and helpless. It was satisfying to see you in such a state.
He reactivated the hologram over his softening cock before binding your legs together in a way that hid the large hole in your pants to prevent anyone from figuring out what the two of you did.
He sighed heavily and slung you over his shoulder, standing up to look around and figure out where the fuck he was.
"You have a really nice ass," you commented after a moment, unable to keep your compliments to yourself.
He groaned. It was gonna be a long trip back to HQ.
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Translations:
1: "I'm going to kill you!"
2: "Oh my god."
3: "Shut up!"
4: "Shit..."
5: "You like it when I treat you like you're nothing, don't you?"
6: "Stop lying to yourself and admit it."
7: "Oh, just shut up already."
cross-posted on ao3
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astolary · 13 days
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APRIL SHOWERS BRING MAY FLOWERS .
( Synopsis ) ✿ freesia – going on a strawberry picking outing
( Author's Note ) @xianyoon has created a lovely event called when the spring light hits the field! Please check out her event >< Ying thank you so much again for letting me write with these prompts :D Up next, Neuvillette hehehe
( Pairings ) Diluc x GN! Spouse Reader
( Content Warnings ) Reader likes strawberries, reader is Diluc's spouse, set towards at least 7-10 years into the future?
( Word Count ) 1.0k+ words
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DILUC DESPISES THE MONTH OF APRIL. It does not bring back fond memories. If anything, it reminded him of the times when he was sheltered, naïveté, weak, foolish. How he failed to stand on his own two feet to protect his father; how he pushed everyone away from him; how he ruined everything around him like a corrupt flame choking nature into black ashes. 
It was hard for him to create relationships with others after that incident. And if something was hard for him outside of work-related matters, indulgence in desires was something he did not deserve. That is too selfish and self-centred for a man of his calibre.
Diluc had everything; the Dawn Winery, mora, a stable business, a loving father, and a reliable brother.  His future was all planned out for him. And everything collapsed because of a birthday wish.
Of course, fate had plans for him. Or was it chance? After all, April showers bring May flowers.
“Good morning, Master Diluc!”
“Master Diluc, good day.”
“Greetings, Master Diluc.”
“Good morning everyone.” Diluc greeted his staff.
Quick footsteps padded the floor. “Master Diluc, here’s your coat.” Moco diligently stood behind him, coat neatly hanging on her arm. “Are you going to pick the strawberries today with (Name)?”
“That’s right.” Diluc nodded. “Do you happen to know of my spouse’s whereabouts?”
Spouse. If you asked him a decade ago if he were ever to find a partner, he would have promptly dismissed the idea and made a mental note to close the tavern early to resume his evening duties.
“(Name) has already started harvesting the strawberries,” Moco informed him.
“I see, they must be in a rush.” Diluc mused. “Thank you, Moco.”
Tsk, cheater. Diluc brooded in the back of his mind.
Hastily, he walked down the cobblestone stairs, quickly spotting a head popping out in the strawberry farm
The post-winter breeze tousled his face like a bygone dream, greeting the animals from slumber; welcoming the birds from the 7 nations; and the plants full in flourish. Spring has come once again.
Which also meant…
“It’s time to harvest the strawberries.” Diluc voiced out loud. He watched your head snap up from the strawberries quickly, freezing like a deer in headlights. “I thought we said we would compete fairly this year.”
Preposterously, you mockingly stood up and pointed an accusing finger towards him. “I would have competed fairly if someone didn’t eat my basket of strawberries last year!” 
Clutching your strawberry basket tightly to your chest, you feigned offence. You marched towards him, holding your chin up high in defiance. “This year, I will win, and I will get to be the one to spoil you for a whole month!” You kicked his basket with your hip
“Really now?” He smirked. Diluc pinched your nose, watching you scrunch your face cutely. 
“Of course! In fact, I’ll harvest more strawberries than you ever had.” You announced, “I’m winning this year’s strawberry-picking competition!”
As if ignoring the fact that he has always helped in the seasonal fruit harvests since childhood— just like every other year, you deliberately testified your demise. “I’m sure you will.” Diluc replied.
“Just you wait,” You laughed. “Because I have a plan,”
It wasn’t a pretend cackle, your laugh was a joyous laugh, a tinkling melody that burst straight from your heart and enveloped the entire area. A laugh that showed that you were enjoying your time with Diluc over a competition on who could harvest the most strawberries. (Because you both knew it was out of character for Diluc to have fun over a competition.)
(Years ago, when you both carefully strengthened your relationship through time—Diluc did not spare time, but for you he was more willing to take care of himself. And trust—trusting himself was so much more harder than trusting you. Because how can you trust someone wholeheartedly when you can barely trust yourself?
“It’s alright if you don’t trust yourself,” You spoke to him under the orange tavern lights. “Most of the time, we barely trust ourselves to make decisions. But that’s why I’m here.” You smiled, the most beautiful smile he’s seen you show him. “I knew what I was getting into by being with you, and when you don’t trust yourself, I’ll trust you.”)
He’s so, so grateful for being you being in his life.
In a daze, Diluc stood still, holding his basket idly in his hand— soaking in your happiness. Your laugh made him so happy…
You were comfortable living in the manor, with him. You were comfortable laughing, with him. You pushed him to be the best he can be, not because he loves you, but because it’s something he must do to become a better person. To be more worthy to receive your love.
You’re so amazing…
A gust of wind passed by him. Diluc snapped out of his daze.
“But of course, you can’t win the strawberry picking competition if you don’t have your basket!” You yelled. Your legs burned as you ran as fast as possible away from him. (Maybe you’ll reconsider working out with him.)
Diluc chuckled. “Oh you sneaky…”
And Diluc ran after you— of course, while deliberating keeping his pace slow. Because, you know, you should really reconsider working out with him.
Diluc does not despise the month of April.
“Elzer.”
He looked up from the documents in his hand.
“Adeline?”
“Look.”
Adeline’s gaze was fixed on the window, fondness swirling in her eyes and an affectionate smile touching her lips.
Curiously, Elzer rose from his chair and took quick strides towards Adeline.
“Master Diluc is chasing (Name) around the vineyard.”
Chasing (Name) around the vineyard…? 
He shifted his gaze towards the window. Ah.
“If Master Diluc is fond of grapes, then (Name) is certainly fond of strawberries.” Adeline sighed wistfully.
“Doesn’t it bring back such fond memories?” 
Elzer rested his hip against the window ledge. “It does.” 
“Just like when Master Crepus and My Lady were younger.” Elzer sighed nostalgicly.
“Just like when Master Crepus and My Lady were younger.” Adeline agreed.
Ah, Master Crepsus would be so proud of the man you became, Master Diluc.
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astolary 2024 — do not edit, repost, or translate. © genshin impact official art © @/h-aewo dividers © @xianyoon : when the spring light hits the field event
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dreamescapeswriting · 7 months
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Most Wonderful Time Of The Year ~ LMH
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WORD COUNT: 1.4K
PAIRING: Minho x GN!Reader
GENRE: angst with a softer ending, the boys not including you on something, feeling a little down about the season, comforting boyfriend,
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
A/N: Did I have christmas songs on while writing it? Yes..Yes I did hehe
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Christmas had always been your favourite time of year, Maybe it was the fact that everyone seemed to be happier or had an extra spring in their step but you adored everything about the Christmas season. The darker mornings, the darker nights? What wasn't to love about curling up in front of the fireplace with your loved ones and spending time cuddling up together? 
Or waking up earlier than everyone else in the house was asleep and just listening to the quietness of the mornings, reading a book or just sitting there for a long time enjoying your time alone. Everywhere you went Christmas music was playing and usually everyone appeared to be in a cheery mood, speaking to you or just giving you a small wave hello. Everything about the season brought you nothing but joy.
Until now that was.
For weeks the boys had been talking non-stop about the Christmas party that they were going to be throwing, talking about what they were going to do and who was cooking for all of them. Something that they did every year by the sounds of it but you hadn't been invited to it and being the person that you were, you didn't ask about it.
You decided that if they really wanted you there then you would have been asked in the first place, no one wanted someone crashing their plans. Minho was rushing around at the last possible second, he'd been running late after waking up way too late and now he was panicking about not having everything with him.
"Your Secret Santa gift is on the kitchen table," You told Minho as you mindlessly watched the film that you'd decided to put on that morning while Minho got ready. The present had been left unwrapped for days and so you'd wrapped that while watching your first Christmas movie of the morning.
"Thanks, you didn't have to wrap it. I would have gotten around to it," He laughed nervously before coming to a halt in the doorway and frowning when he noticed you weren't dressed yet. The two of you needed to leave within the next two minutes if you were going to stand any chance of the boys not teasing you for it.
"Why aren't you dressed?" He quizzed, running into the kitchen and grabbing the wrapped box before coming back to the living room to find you staring at him dumbfounded by what you meant. You knew you were dressed, it was far too cold for you to be walking around the house naked - even with the heating on.
"Is this a dream where I think I'm dressed but I'm secretly naked?" You laughed looking down at your sweats and top that you were wearing,
"I am dressed." You mumbled wondering what he was talking about and he frowned shaking his head at you, he didn't have time to play any kind of games with you. If the two of you showed up late to a party again the boys wouldn't drop it, they always teased you because you were late to every group activity you did together.
"For the party. Why aren't you dressed for the party?" He moved so that he could stand in front of you, blocking your view of the television and making you sigh a little. This wasn't exactly how you'd planned on spending your day, you'd wanted to sit and watch cheesy made-for-TV Christmas movies and complain about how bad the acting was. 
"Because I didn't get an invite." You mumbled reaching for the remote and pausing your film as he stared at you, his eyebrows knitting together as he thought about it. Minho slowly lowered himself to sit on the coffee table in front of you as he thought about it some more Of course you were invited. Why wouldn't they invite you along? You and Minho had been dating for almost five years, it was a given that you were going to be spending Christmas together.
"What? Of course, you did." He laughed softly trying to think back on whether or not the boys had asked you or if he was supposed to have asked you.
"Baby, I didn't get invited." You looked at him as he frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. There was no way they wouldn't invite you out of spite, there had to be some kind of reason they hadn't done it.
"That's stupid, I'm sure they just forgot to invite you." He shrugged, playing it off as nothing and standing up from the table and holding out his hands for you to take.
"Or they don't want me there." Insecurity drenched your every word but you couldn't help it. The more you thought about it the more you worried the boys really didn't want you there. Maybe they didn't like you as much as you thought that they did and just put up with you because they had to for Minho's sake.
"Why would you think that?" His eyes and voice softened as he watched you closely,
"I-I don't know," Your voice shook and before you could even process what was happening tears began to roll down your cheeks, your chest beginning to ache as your cries left your throat. Within seconds Minho was sitting beside you on the sofa, wrapping his arms around you and dragging you into the tightest hug that he could possibly manage.
"They love you, you know that right? Felix always loves spending time with you and so does Seumgmin." He reminded you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms as you cried against his chest. Maybe it seemed silly to him that you were crying over not being invited somewhere but this was something you'd spent your whole life dealing with.
Even with friends of your own, you were always left out of group activities and made to feel like the bad guy if you ever asked why they didn't invite you. 
"They love spending time with you. I'm positive that there's going to be an explanation behind it all," Minho whispered to you softly, his hands slowly coming to a stop before he kissed the side of your head lovingly. The last thing he wanted was for you to be upset on one of your favourite days of the year.
"But-" You tried to speak but there was no way he was going to let you talk your way out of this one.
"Nope. You're coming with me, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming," He smirked at you, tapping your arm a little but you still didn't move from his arms and he chuckled a little.
"You want to put up a little fight today, brat?" He teased softly, tickling your armpits before you wriggled away from him, his arm tightening around you so that you didn't fall on the floor and hurt yourself.
"Come on," He whispered when he heard your sniffling coming to a slow stop and helping you up onto your feet.
"Your outfit is laid out on the bed, yours will match my festive shirt," He smiled, proudly showing off the outfit he was wearing and smirking at you.
"Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! If we're late they'll tease us!" He yells as you take off in a sprint toward the staircase and toward your shared room.
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It turned out that everything had been a miscommunication on the boy's part. They assumed that you would be spending Christmas with some family members this year and they'd spaced on just asking you about it. Chan had just placed down a card in Uno that you were all playing and you smirked a little. Everyone had finished eating and now you were spending time playing the new Uno game that Changbin had gotten for Felix,
"I'm still on Uno," Felix announced proudly before nervously looking at you and trying to take a sneaky look at your deck,
"Remember, I'm your favourite." He pleaded, begging for you not to do anything bad to him, but he'd won all of the games so far and it was about time someone taught him a lesson.
"I think you'll find I'm their favourite," Minho smirked, kissing your cheek softly before watching you smugly place down a plus 5 and laughing evilly as Felix proceeded to pick up more cards.
"Uno flip is stupid." He grumbled, looking down at his deck before the game continued, all of you laughing and joking about with one another.
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Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie @illicee @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin
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sincerelyrki · 26 days
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MINI SKIRT
↳ fourteen : MAN FUCK SONG KANG!
warnings : sunwoo is kinda sad
wc : 1.4k (1431)
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Dread filled your body the second you opened your apartment door, eyes narrowing at the familiar pair of shoes situated right beside your designated spot. The shoes were your first hint.
In the center top row was a pair of low-rise Amiri sneakers, the pearly white hue standing out against your collection of darker shoes. 
Sunwoo was the only person you knew who wore Amiri, his devotion for the brand evident through his dozens of pairs sat along the walls of his closet. 
The second hint that Sunwoo actually came over was your mom's loud voice, her giggles a little too high-pitched to be directed toward anyone else. The tone was one she only used around two people, and he just happened to be one of them.
You tried to keep your presence a secret, light on your feet as you deftly tiptoed through the entrance, sock-clad feet almost gliding against the ground. 
You stopped as you reached the corner, fingers gently holding against the wall as you attempted to peak around the corner. 
Sunwoo stood with his back facing you, his lower body resting against the counter as he leaned over it and towards your mom.
His leather jacket was discarded on the seat behind him, hung in a specific way that allowed you to make out the design. In the center, there was a singular bear, the sunglasses standing out against its white fur. It was the exact bear you designed in high school, the same one that was stitched across all your older designs.
The jacket was the first piece of clothing that you’ve ever made for someone else, gifting it to Sunwoo as a graduation gift.
Since the day he received it, Sunwoo had claimed that it was his favourite thing he had ever owned, the proof of his words sitting bright under the overhead lights. 
Without any purpose you walked towards him, body gravitating towards the jacket Sunwoo had attached to his hip. It hurt to see it, it always did. 
It felt like a reminder of everything everyone’s been telling you for years, a reminder that Sunwoo was completely in love with you. As the seasons passed and the sunsets faded, Sunwoo changed. 
His eonion change would remain unending but his devotion to you was the only thing that he couldn’t seem to escape. He wasn’t naive, just foolishly wishful. 
But he stood no chance against kismet. He was destined to meet you, but never to be with you. His longing blurred between the lines of the story you began writing without him, his love getting caught in the seams of the pages that began to flip before he could finish the previous ones. 
The words eventually overwrote his vows, his desperation seeping out in waves of forced separation. The harder he pulled, the more you pushed. And in the moments where you feel further than ever, he did what he thought he had to do.
He knew it was dramatic to call your parents, but he also knew what their presence would bring. They pulled you together, red yarn weaving between your fingers as they attempted to tie the two of you together.
If calling your parents over the smallest things, over things he forced himself to worry about, brought you back into his arms then he would do it forever. He would call them every day, lips spilling nonsense as the red yarn on his finger turned to ash.
But he still wasn’t naive, he knew what he was doing. 
“Sunwoo?” It didn’t come as a shock when he stood unwavering at your voice, he knew exactly how this would play out. And so he tilted his head towards you, a small smirk on his face as your eyes connected.
Even with the anger so visually obvious, he couldn’t stop his heart from melting. It rushed down his veins, throbbing as it bloomed across his face in a sudden burst.
His pink cheeks housed his now genuine smile, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a way that only you could create. “Hey, sweets” He ignored your mom’s audible swooning, his eyes never leaving yours as his entire body reacted to your presence.
“Why are you here?” His favourite song played in his head as you walked even closer to him, stopping as you reached the chair behind him. 
Your fingers gently traced along the prominent stitch around the shoulder area of his jacket, nails barely ghosting it. You looked up after a moment of silence, his words never leaving his pith as he stared at you with a familiar look.
“You shouldn’t be here” It was easy to read Sunwoo, but the way he reacted to your words was in a way that you’ve never seen before. 
You’ve never seen him freeze like that, seen the way his eyes widened to an unfamiliar extent. “What?” Sunwoo tried not to panic, hoping that your unforeseen dialogue wouldn’t change the entire interaction.
“I mean, we haven’t talked in like two or three days?” He had to bite his tongue to not scream out the exact time, the hours ticking in his mind as he watched the clock tick in his mind. 
“I needed to talk to you and I clearly couldn’t do it on text” He tried his best to keep up his front, ignoring the way his heart stopped beating the second you sheepishly scratched your cheek.
“Yeah…” You trailed off not knowing how to respond, lips curling into each other as you stared at a general spot on the wall behind him. 
“Yn, what did I tell you about blocking people?” Your mom's stern voice caused you to jump, the remembrance of her presence causing you to soften your exterior.
“It’s rude, imagine how Sunwoo feels after being blocked by you for like half the year” Your mom reached up towards the taller boy, her hands squishing his cheeks together as he pulled his head to rest on her shoulder.
Without auguring, Sunwoo allowed her to manhandle him, bending his body as she pulled him against her. 
As mad as you were at Sunwoo, you couldn’t stop the giggle from leaving your lips at the sight. Your mom was fairly short, reaching a height of barely over five feet. It was amusing to see her controlling a man much taller than her, her strong arms working in her favour.
“You feel hurt, don’t you?” She more stated than questioned, using her own hands to nod his head up and down. She gasped in fake shock, turning her glaring eyes towards you. 
“See? Apologize, right now!” Her glare transferred through you, reflecting in your mirrored eyes as you directed it toward Sunwoo this time.
“Mom, he was mean to me first?” 
You all went into a cycle of blaming each other before ultimately apologizing to each other, one more genuine than the other.
“Oh also, Who’s Jake? I remember Sunwoo mentioning his name to me a few days ago”
The betrayed look in your eyes was nothing compared to your response, Sunwoo’s throat clogging as the room stilled.
“He’s a friend, a real friend. Don’t worry too much about it, we just began talking a few days ago.”
a real friend. Sunwoo wasn’t sure if there was a double meaning behind your words, but after today's turn of events he wouldn’t trust his own judgment too much. 
“Is he cute?” Your mom squealed out loud as you nodded your heart, her body racing towards yours as she linked her arm around yours. “He’s really cute, you’d love him”
Your phone loudly vibrated in your back pocket, the sound unknown to your mom as she animatedly blabbered about your “unknown man”.
Sunwoo watched over your shoulder as you tapped the screen to life, an unfamiliar contact lighting up your screen. He wanted nothing more than to break down the second he saw the bright smile that overwhelmed your face as you read the text. 
Sunwoo has never hated someone more. But he’s also never wanted to be someone else as much as he did now. 
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a/n : i’ve been so busy for the last like three days 😭 easter messed up my entire schedule. anywaysss, i’ve been addicted to song kang lately (hence his recent mentions) i just finished my demon a few days ago and omg…. ALSO THESE BOOPS ?? i’m obsessed they’re so cute
SYNOPSIS ⮕ You know Jake Sim and you love Prada, it was already a perfect combination. You just happened to always be in the same place as him, at the same time. And that place just happened to be the Prada store. It’s not your fault that your Prada collection expands as your interactions grow. Especially not considering that Jake couldn’t stop himself from fawning over you (and your mini skirts).
taglist is OPEN ! send an ask or comment to be added xoxo
taglist one (1) : @vousty @iheartjayke @kgneptun @woninluv @memooooca @rosas-in-the-garden @thea-herondale @letters2won @certified-ni-ki-lover @wonpoem @eunbiland @hae-luvr @t00miee @bbangricz @tytrackfebreze @cafeyuns @aerivrs @seunnimg @enhytan @enhaz1 @neocockthotology @jiawji @miumiuestmoi @sophi-ee @cha0thicpisces @manooffline @glassesyunjin @rinahch @jaklvbucb @rikizm @ilyjxdz @mnxnii @n1k1mura @hhoonsbaby @xiaoderrrr @artstaeh @nikisuar @who-tf-soddhi @jakeslvt @hohohobo @natsukee @fakeuwus @ramenoil @aeminju @lanapaz @seunghancore @heartswonn @jakeyverse @l1lyanah @sunpov @yoitsrach @jessicadacollest @h4918ymc @jeongintwt @oldjws @herebyaccident0 @kyrojackson @haechansbbg | bold = can’t tag
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flowerygrdn · 1 year
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MESS IT UP || r. cameron
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gif, not mine*
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: season 3 spoilers!! angst, rafe is still fucking crazy, and very sad.
summary: y/n and the pouges need to get to south america, but when rafe brings ward to the plane, he needs to talk to her one last time before she leaves.
a/n: wanted to write something sad, but i will be writing some smut next 😏 also this is hella short, sorry.
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As my friends are bickering about Kiara and Jj, the engine of a motorcycle begins to grow closer. I see it first, two people are on it and then suddenly, it stops in front of us. Everyone turns their heads and the riders take their helmets off. Rafe's eyes meet mine for a split second before Ward falls off the bike. He rushes to his side and starts yelling at us to help him.
"Don't just stand there, help!" He yells, then Sarah rushes to his side and helps get Ward up. They run up the steps to the plane and I stay still in my spot.
"No, hell no. I am not getting on a plane with them." Pope states. I agree, I don't want to be on a plane with Rafe. Especially not after everything he's done. I thought he loved me, but he cared more about what his horrible father thought of him than me. Pope and John B go back and for the before Sarah steps off. She goes on a rant about how it's her father's plane and if we want to find another way we can.
Soon, Rafe steps off and Pope glares at him.
"Pope, not here," I warn him. As Rafe gets to the bottom of the steps Pope's hand comes to his shoulder.
"We're not done." Rafe shoots him a glare and walks away. Cleo makes sure Pope gets on the plane. Rafe looks at Sarah and there's a weird silence for a few seconds.
"Please take care of him." She brushes past him. I stay in my spot, I know he's going to try to talk to me, but I don't want him to. John B goes to walk past him, but he stops him.
"You do anything to him, anything, I swear to god I'll find you." They glare at each other for a few seconds before John B walks away.
"Y/N!" He yells over his shoulder. I slowly start walking but I feel a large hand grab my wrist before I could touch the steps.
"Y/N..." Rafe steps closer so his nose brushes over my temple.
"What," I say, I don't look at him, because if I do, my walls will break down again.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I messed it all up and I regret every moment of it. If I could do it all over, I would have done it differently. I love you, only ever you." He presses his forehead to the side of mine and I can feel tears start to fall down his face. I finally turn to face him and every piece of my heart breaks at the sight of his face.
"Rafe..." My hands cup his face and he breaks down even more.
"I need you to know that I'm sorry. I need you to know I love you. I need you to know everything, y/n." I press my forehead to his.
"I know, Rafe. I know, and I know you can be better than this. Promise me that you're going to try. Try to get better. When I get back, I'll find you and I'll help you." Our noses brush against one another and tears start to pool in my eyes as well.
"I promise, y/n." I nod then lean up to press a kiss on his lips. He pulls me closer to deepen it. My heart shatters even more. I love him so much, I've never stopped.
"Goodbye, Rafe." I turn away because if I don't, I'll stay. I need to help Jonh B right now. I hear Rafe's broken sobs behind me and the tears in my eyes finally fall as the plane door shuts. He's gone, I'm gone. Even if I do make it back, I know I can never go back to him, because he'll never change. Not even for me.
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Note
hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol
anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”
i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.
other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊
Well hello there!
I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁
I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅
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Through the Darkness
No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.
Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.
Translations: sarad - flower
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Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.
Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.
“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.
Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.
Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.
The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.
You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.
With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.
The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.
You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.
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Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.
Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.
The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.
“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…
“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”  
Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.
“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.
Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.
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You’d always hated the dark.
The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared. 
You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far. 
Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.
Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.
Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.
Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.
Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece. 
You keep going. One foot in front of the other.
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A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.
Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.
Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.
With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.
With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time. 
Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.
He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.
You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.
Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through. 
“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.
Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.
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Keep going. You need to keep going.
The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.
No.
Not something.
Someone.
“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”
With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.
And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.
But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.
Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.
Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”
The darkness recoils. 
With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.
Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore. 
You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours. 
Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back. 
Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.
You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face. 
You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.
Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”
Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut. 
“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact. 
Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.
“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.
You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”
Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.
As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. 
And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.
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Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees
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jo-harrington · 6 months
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Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.
Previous Part: Closing Time
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating
Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
"You look cute today."
"Thanks!"
"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"
"Got it."
Every day.
"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"
"Yeah it's at home."
"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."
"Don't worry Eddie."
He reminded you every day.
"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."
"Alright I'll be there."
"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."
"I swear to god!"
Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.
It was cute endearing.
October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.
And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.
Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.
Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.
And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.
But with Eddie...it was different.
A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.
You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.
Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.
Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.
"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."
You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.
"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.
"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."
"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.
Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.
Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.
They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.
"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."
---
Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.
You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?
Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.
However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.
Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.
"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."
"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.
"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."
"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."
"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."
"Hi."
"Nice of you to finally join us."
Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.
Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.
They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.
Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--
"She's real, I swear."
--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.
"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."
"They are."
"You like hockey."
"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."
You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.
"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.
"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.
---
Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.
"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."
"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."
"More blood! More! MORE!"
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.
A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.
To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.
To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.
Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.
Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.
"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.
"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."
"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."
"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."
"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.
"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."
Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--
"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.
"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."
"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."
"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.
"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.
"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.
"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."
"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.
The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.
"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.
They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.
But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.
"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."
"Impress is a stretch."
"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."
You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.
"Go before I gnaw on your brains."
"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.
"Go!"
---
It was an eventful night.
You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.
The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.
You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.
The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.
"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."
He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.
"Listen to your mother!"
And the nickname just stuck.
Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.
"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"
The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.
After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.
"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.
"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.
"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.
"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."
You both froze and you started panicking.
Why had you said that?
Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.
"Or uh...undeath. Considering."
Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.
---
By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.
"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"
"Of course."
"Enough to do it again next year?"
"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."
"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"
"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"
"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.
"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."
He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.
You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.
You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.
"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."
"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."
He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.
Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.
Hands held comfortably together.
Next Part: Promotion
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froggoon · 2 months
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
I’ll love you in every multiverse I Five Hargreeves x Reader
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚
Post Apocalypse Au! ( Yes Im writing another one ) WC: 1,791
Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.
Disclaimer: This takes place after season one if Viktor didn’t blow up the moon. ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
The Umbrella Academy had saved the world from its supposed end. The siblings had lounged around the academy slowly letting reality set that they had avoided their demise. It was the next morning when each of them woke up to check their surroundings, making sure that doomsday wasn’t there.
Five went downstairs for his morning coffee when he saw Allison scrolling for flights on her phone and Klaus checking where was the next place he could buy drugs.
“Leaving so soon?” He questioned.
Allison looked up at him although happy to see her brother, guilty because he was right.
“I have to go see my daughter. After everything that has happened I need her now just as much as she needs me.”
Five nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from, although a little irked she wasn’t wasting any time running away.
At this time a portal had opened above the living room. The rest of the siblings (Luther, Viktor, Diego) had rushed down to see what the loud noise was. It was like Deja Vu when Five came back. In the portal, they could see a fight happening. Figures that had looked like them in a place that looked like their home. A woman’s back came close to the portal, they could see she was in combat but stood observing. Another man who they couldn’t identify, had pushed the woman through the portal.
A girl who looked to be in her early twenties had fallen through. Her face was covered in soot, her hair black as night, and her eyes closed in pain. She was wearing a navy body suit that clung to her figure, and blood, not her own, stained the fabric.
The Hargreeves gathered around to observe this strange phenomenon trying to assess the danger of the situation. They were used to people going after them, so why would this time be different.
You coughed loudly before sitting up, and each sibling tensed with adrenaline. The girl looked around the room with blazing blue eyes before she landed on the youngest Hargreeves.
“Five?” you questioned.
Everyone turned to look at Five.
Luther spoke up first, “You know her?”
“I have never met her in my life.” Five retorted.
The girl dusted off her suit before standing. “Well if you never met me, you either will meet me or I’m dead in this universe.”
“The names y/n , y/n Hargreeves.”
“I don’t remember our father adopting anyone else,” Diego said. He raised his knives, carefully ready to strike at any move she would make.
“That’s because I wasn’t adopted into this family. Married actually.” And with this, she held up her left hand, a beautiful diamond ring shone in the light with a gold band beneath it. The diamond was embellished with 2 smaller emeralds on the side, perhaps representing her lover’s eyes.
“Married? To who.” Viktor questioned.
“To him.” She looked back at Five.
“Well not to him, an alternate version of him. We met a few years ago and got married, thus me joining his chaotic family.”
“So what are you saying you guys are married in a different timeline?” Klaus asked.
“No, not a different timeline, a different universe.” She sat down on the couch.
Your brain felt like it was rattling against your skull, and your body ached. You took a minute to think. Fuck, it was going to be difficult to get back to your Earth. And to make things better you had no idea where to start.
“Alright before you all start firing questions at me, someone get me a cup of coffee, black please.” You threw a jacket that hung over the couch on you to hide the state of your clothes. "Allow me," The alternate of your husband said. Five quickly blinked the two of you into the car and began to drive. "So you and I, are married in another multiverse."
"Correct." "You look to be about my age, how come I haven't met you yet here." Surerly he would remember someone as beautiful as you. "Well it's as I said, my version here could be dead or you might not have met her yet. That being said although 18 out of the 20 multiverses I have visited, we are together." "And the other two?" "In Earth 216, we are strangers, never have crossed paths, and never will. We simply live our lives with other people." Five's eyebrows furrowed. For some reason even if he didn't know Daisy, he didn't like the idea of you with someone else. "In Earth 894, we were madly in love but our egos destroyed us, and we were never the same since." Five could tell there was more to that story but didn't press any further. "So tell me about us, how did we end up together." "I was Diego's friend first, he and I met in the police force. Diego kinda took me under his wing as I was the youngest graduate out of the academy. Perks of having a high IQ. Anyway, he invited me over after your father's funeral. " "Long story short, you fell in love with my charms and I was the only one who could tolerate you. We got married not too long after. It was a small wedding but it's my most precious memory. Our families had gathered together at the church no too far away from here. You cried on our wedding day by the way." Inciting a side glare from Five.
"But...that's where we had some problems." "Do you remember when I fell out of that portal?" Five nodded his head remembering seeing a fight in the alternate dimension. "Well, apparently some of the 43 are not too happy about their powers, nor happy about living among the common people, they believed themselves superior and it became chaos." The two of you arrived at Griddys. Five walked over to the side of your door and opened it for you. "Thank you, darling." You said with a smile. Five's heart spiked at the nickname. He shook his head at the feeling, obviously, it's just what you were used to calling YOUR Five. The two of you sat at the counter and ordered your coffees and sweets. You signed before pulling out a small stack of photos from inside your suit. "This is us and your family." The photo was a picture of you and Five on your wedding day. Five had never looked so happy. Beside him was Luther who he assumed was his best man, next to him was Viktor, Diego, and a man who looked like you. You must have caught his staring, "That's my brother Damien." He nodded and looked beside you. You were wearing a long white dress with intricate lacing, the dress was strapless with a square neckline and had a small slit on the side. Your veil was flipped over your head and flowed down your back. Beside you was Allison as your maid of honor and two other women who he assumed were your friends. You weren't looking at the camera but at him. The next picture you gave him was a close-up of the two of you. You were the one taking the photo. His alternate self was older and had longer hair and facial hair, but he faced your side kissing your cheek affectionately. "This is my favorite photo of you." You handed him another photograph but this one didn't have you in it. This one was a picture of just Five and in his arms a little girl. She looked like you. Five gulped, a million questions ran through his head. Could this... could this have been his future if he didn't make that stupid jump? You said that not all multiverses are the same, you and him could never meet in this one. But that didn't stop his heart from hurting at the thought of missing out on a life of happiness because of his arrogance. "Before you jump to conclusions, she's not ours. She's my niece that we were babysitting. You just looked so sweet with her. You had always told me you wanted kids before but I wasn't ready." You had looked away sadly. In your home, Five always wanted to settle down and raise a family of his own, but you felt like you weren't ready. Now you regretted not because you weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back home. The two of you sat in silence drinking your coffee, both thinking about the what-ifs. "So...how did you end up here. I've been able to time travel but I've never thought about the possibility of multi-dimensional traveling." "As I said there was a fight between us, your family, and some of the 43. They called themselves the Ascendants. Believe to be the superior race." You took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ascendants had a man who could travel the multiverse with his own power, no special gear or machine need. We had planned to capture him but miscalculated. He was ready for us and he aimed to take out me, his biggest threat."
You took another breath before looking into Five's eyes. "I can warp reality. It is essentially in the name. I can manipulate reality itself, altering the fabric of existence according to my will." "But not without a cost," you continued. "Each time I control something, and the bigger it is, the more of my life force I use." Five sat in silence. This was a lot of information to take in. "So what now. How do I help you get back home." "I have...no clue. You were always the smarter one of the two of us." You sighed. It was going to take a lot of research and time to figure it out. "Well, I'm newly retired and have nothing on my plate so let's start at the library come on." He hopped off the stool and made his way to the door. "You coming?" He said turning to look at you. You smiled, he was a great man. Even if this Five wasn't your husband you loved him no matter what. You ran up looping your arm in his making your way out of Griddy's. ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚
Author's note: I got tons of drafts just full of ideas I've had and never gone through with. I've been rewatching the MCU films and Spiderverse so that was kinda my inspiration for this one. If you like my work check out my other Five stories here! I also always appreciate comments and feedback! It definitely keeps me going. She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.
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mvngo-muffin · 3 months
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[ picnics with ➼ txt ]
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a/n: hey! i've been mia for months, sorry...things have been hectic. but i'm trying to get back into writing! fyi yeonjun's is heavily inspired by "let's go picnic" by george!
genre: fluff
pairing : txt x f!reader
warnings : none!
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soobin ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
you were both set to go for a day trip to the beach tomorrow, and he knew this would be the perfect way to end the day together
he spent the day preparing foods that were easy to transport to the beach: gimbap, cut fruit, small sandwiches
he arranged the food neatly into boxes and packed it into a cooler the next morning without you knowing
after a long day of swimming, playing in the sand, and enjoying the warmth, the two of you went to wash up
as you showered, soobin set up the blanket with the food and some flowers he had bought
"y/n, are you done?" he asked, peeking into the room you two had rented for the day
"yup! let's go find a dinner place." you replied, walking out of the room and back onto the beach
you gasped at the spread in front of you, the evening sun setting in an array of colors behind it
"soob, what's all this?"
"just for you," he responded, holding onto your hand as you made your way to the blanket for dinner
yeonjun ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
yeonjun was packing up after practice, sighing in exhaustion
he hadn't seen you in so long; he really missed you
he slipped his headphones on as he left, a song beginning to play
let's go picnic, with a girlfriend the lyrics sang to him
it was as if a light bulb went off
he rushed out of the practice room and made his way to the nearest market, picking up precut strawberries and clementines, sandwiches, some soda, and of course, a small cake
groceries secured, he called you from the car, making sure you were at home
he reached your house and rang your doorbell, immediately engulfing you in a tight hug when you answered the door
"what are you doing here, jun?"
"thought we could have a nighttime picnic in your backyard," he responded, pulling away from the hug and showing you the bag
you spent the rest of the night curled up in blankets, eating your snacks, and watching the stars with the love of your life
beomgyu ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
it was finals season, and you had been busy with work and school for weeks
every night, you'd come home exhausted, and beomgyu felt bad asking you to go out on a date after you were so tired
you had sent him a tiktok a few days ago of a couple out on a date for a picnic, and he decided that even if you both couldn't go to the beach or lake, you'd have a picnic regardless
he spent the day preparing food: chocolate covered strawberries, your favorite sandwiches, and even some homemade brownies
about 30 mins before you got home, the sun was already setting...and it was raining (gyu forgot to check the forecast..)
but nevertheless! he persisted, and set up a blanket and cushions on the (covered) porch along with candles and the food
the moment you got home, he rushed you to change into your comfortable clothes, telling you to wear something warm
he brought you to the misty backyard porch, and you were overwhelmed with love at the effort he had put into the picnic
you both settled down, enjoying the food and the sound of the rain, cuddling together as you kissed his cheek every five minutes out of gratitude
"thank you, gyu"
"what's to thank me for? if my girl wants a picnic date, she's getting one"
taehyun ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
saw some couple on a picnic while driving by, and knew he had to do it with you
(he actually has a note on his phone of date ideas to do with you)
would prepare for days for the picnic, making sure he has all of your favorite foods and snacks ready
makes more food than needed, and even bakes a small cake for the two of you
neatly organizes everything in a cute basket
comes prepared with a waterproof picnic blanket, sweatshirts, and tons of napkins
luckily, the day of the date is warm and sunny! you both spend the afternoon by a river, soaking in the sun and each other's company
the date is full of giggles and reminiscing on memories while wrapped up in taehyun's strong arms
as you watch the sunset before packing up, he leaves a peck on your head and whispers a sweet, "i love you"
hueningkai ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
so excited when he sees the date idea on social media!
goes all out and makes strawberry sandwiches, onigiri with little penguin faces on them, apples cut to look like rabbits, etc...
packs everything in bento boxes and grabs a picnic blanket before impulsively going to your house, texting you a short, "come outside"
you're surprised to see him, bags in hand, as you leave your home
"kai, what are you doing?"
"taking you on the cutest date"
the two of you walk over to a park nearby your home and settle down near a small pond, enjoying the food and throwing breadcrumbs to the geese
kai looks at you, adoration in his eyes and makes sure to take some photos of you feeding the birds to save for himself
you both talk about anything and everything, and pack up a few hours later, heading back home, hand in hand
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tlouadditc · 9 months
Note
Hiii, first of all I love all your content. Could you pls make a one shot or a story about y/n as a cheerleader or something else and ellie as a football player in college? <3
touchdown.
college football!ellie x cheerleader!reader.
a/n: tysm for this req!! i had fun writing this even though i have no idea what goes on in sports (oops). keep that in mind so if i got something wrong, forgive me!! also ellie has the farm!ellie haircut because thats my fav ellie. anyway, enjoy <33
warnings: smut with plot, 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, a lil bit of fluff at the beginning [if u squint!], dirty talk (a lot of it.), daddy kink [oops!!], mean ellie, teasing, short nipple play [literally one line], ruined orgasm, no aftercare [eek.] NOT PROOFREAD LOL.
it's late august, the mild heat hitting your back as you walk to your dorms. the season officially starts in a couple of days- meaning the first football game is also gonna happen in a couple days- and you're the most worked up you've ever been. the break was nice; being able to see your family consistently for a couple months was much needed. but as you opened the door to your dorm, you realized you can't reminisce about the break. get ready for the next week.
as you begin to unpack your bags, you hear the door slightly open behind you. you smile, knowing who's there already. a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips back slightly. "she's baaaaack," ellie says quietly, kissing your neck gently as she rocks your hips side to side. you chuckle slightly, turning to look at your girlfriend. "missed you, babe," you say, fully embracing her in your arms. you feel her smile into your neck. pulling back, you give her a small peck on the cheek and admire her.
"new hair?" you question, noticing a small change; the length. she steps back, nodding. "you like it?" she says, still smiling. her auburn hair was cut right to her chin with a side part plastered into it. "i love it, actually," you declare, tucking some stray hairs back behind her pierced ears. "suits you."
she grins before sitting on your bed. "enough about my changes," she begins, "how was your break? you ready for another season of being my personal cheerleader?" you laugh, "babe, i have to cheer for everyone. but my break was good, i guess. was thinking of you the entire time."
"whaaaatever," she teases, rolling her eyes playfully. "i missed you more. almost went crazy without you." ellie was always super dramatic when it came to you; the entire break, she complained about how she was gonna die if she didn't see you in the next couple of hours. it's something you loved about her.
"oh, that reminds me," you suddenly utter, rushing to your closet to grab something. "we got new outfits!"
"oh, yeah?" ellie sat up on your bed, fully attentive to the outfit in question. "let me see it." you excitedly hold it up; a black mini pleated skirt with red glittery trim on the bottom. a matching cropped tank top came with it. it had your college's mascot plastered on the front with your last name on the back.
"wow," she clears her throat, eyes blown wide while eyeing it up and down. "i think you should t-try it on." you giggle and turn to go change.
after a couple minutes, you get it on. before you leave, you assess how it fits on you; your boobs are perfectly sitting inside the tank top, making your figure look sleek and classy. the skirt, however.. bend over and your ass is completely out. you stare at yourself, taking in everything. you snap out of your daze when you hear ellie knock on the door. "babe? you good in there?" she asks, a slight tone of concern being heard. without answering, you open the door to reveal yourself.
for a few seconds, she stands there, mouth open. no words. just admiring every part of you. she moves her hands to your sides, mouthing wow as her eyes travel up and down your body. "you like?" you ask, slightly smirking as you look into her eyes.
"god, i love it," she breathes, her eyes moving from your body up to your eyes. a hand goes to your skirt, lifting it up. "but this lil' skirt's gonna distract everyone, y'know that?"
before you can respond, someone bangs at the front door, causing you both to jump. "y/n!" they yelled, "practice is starting! hurry up!"
goddamnit, you think. you look at ellie with apologetic eyes, grabbing your stuff. almost as if she can read your mind, she goes to the door and yells, "i'll see you down there, babe. tell em' i'll be late!"
practice was boring. a lot of forced small-talk with your teammates about their break, the drills were actually ass, it was a bad start to the season. ellie, who was on the other side of the field you were practicing on, was eyeing you the entire time. the way your skirt went up and revealed your ass took away every ounce of attention that was meant for her sport.
you knew what you were doing. you felt her eyes on you the entire time. anytime you had a chance to tease her when nobody was looking, you'd flip your skirt up and play it off as you fixing your outfit.
after practice, you go back to your dorm and take a quick shower. as soon as you grab your towel, your phone vibrates.
ellie: open the door
you look at the text, confused. nonetheless, you walk to the door in your towel and look through the peephole. ellie's there, waiting impatiently. you unlock the door and twist the knob to open it.
as soon as you open it, ellie forces her way in. she pushes you onto your bed, turning back to close and lock the door. when she turns back to you, you see her dark expression. she's definitely frustrated, pissed even. before you can ask any questions, she simply states:
"you think you can tease me all day and get away with it?"
you're still confused, forgetting completely about practice. when it hits you, she has a slight smirk on her face. "yeah, you remember."
she gets on top of you, planting small, but passionate kisses from your cheeks down to your collarbone. "flipping up that small fucking skirt, thinking i wouldn't do anything to you," she mumbles, pulling down the top of your towel, exposing your breasts. she cups one in each hand, running her thumb over your nipple. "these pretty fuckin' tits," she continues, "bouncing every time you jump.. fuckin' driving me crazy, y'know?"
you whimper, getting wetter by the second. "oh, you want me to fuck you, huh?" she coos, moving down to your ear. "want me to fuck you dumb? make you cum all night?" all you can do is mumble small yes's, feeding into your submission. "oh, i know, baby."
she pulls the towel off of you, fully exposing your damp body. her hands roam from your sides down to your sopping wet cunt, earning a small gasp from you. "what? you want me to touch you here, doll?" she asks, slightly in a mocking tone. you nod feverishly, opening your legs a bit. the wetness coats your inner thighs, glistening in the light above you two.
"god, so wet just for me?" she asks, looking you in the eyes. her middle finger traces along your slit, collecting your slick on her finger. you whine, opening your legs wider so she can slip a finger in you.
"what do you want? hm?" she moves right in front of your face, keeping her middle finger at your entrance. "use your words, baby."
"p-please fuck me, ellie."
"that's not the name you use. you know that."
"fuck- please, i n-need it."
"what's my name?"
you hesitate before answering quietly, "daddy."
"that's right. good girl."
she slips her middle finger into you, earning a gasp from you as you clench around her finger. she moves it in and out as you try to gain any friction from her palm. you look so needly, so helpless in this state; it turns ellie on so much. she's just looking down at you, watching you get off like a fucking dog.
"fuck, you look so good like this baby," she whispers, teasing another finger at your entrance. you pathetically whimper and hold her arm with both hands. "you want another?"
the way she asks you is in a mocking way, making you feel dumb under her touch. but it feels to good to stop now. you nod, almost crying, chasing your orgasm.
"do you deserve it, baby?" she speaks, looking you directly in your eyes. "do you really? answer me."
she's slowing down. you beg and plead for her to keep going; all you can hear are your babbles, "pleasepleaseplease daddy, i need it, i'll be good i promise, im sorry"
"you should've thought about that before you teased me, slut."
she completely removes her fingers, making you whine in frustration. you're mad, but to be fair.. you brought it on yourself.
a/n: this took so long omg writers block is an ass. anyway. might make another part, i just need more ideas if i make another.
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andraxicated · 9 months
Text
Intimacy in all its forms
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Pairings: ayato, heizou, albedo, kaeya, childe, scaramouche x f! reader
tags: fluff | highschool au! (currently reading seasons of blossom and i'm not okay)
a/n: this will probably be one of my last writings here before i'm once again swept up in school. this will be 3 parts with other characs!
taken from prompts here
pt. 2
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Ayato | The intimacy of someone falling asleep next to you. On your shoulder. In your company.
—he was oh so capable. everyone admired and trusted him, he was all smiles to them and they'd worship the ground he walked on. he was good at everything; academics and athletics, student government positions, and work that seemed too much for one person. he handled it all like some kind of superman and you hated it so much. you hated how ayato promised he'd change his attitude when you're dating and he broke it—seeing him still handling paperwork when the sun was starting to set and the school was about to be empty.
"are you done?" you ask, leaning against the door to be met with his sorry eyes and words. "sorry (y/n), i'm about to be finished soon, you can go now if you want." what kind of question was that? of course, you'd stay with him.
you pull out a nearby chair and sat next to him, leaning closer and resting your head on his shoulder. "I can't have my afternoon nap because of you" you mutter before closing your eyes, hearing his hushed apologies that you inwardly groan to. and when you wake up, both of you go together in the darkened hallways hand-in-hand, passing by empty classrooms that you refuse to look at and ayato chuckles while glancing at you.
he doesn't call for a car ride when he's staying late, in fear of inconveniencing the family drivers but you tell him he's the only one who'd be inconvenienced commuting at a rush hour.
"how could I be inconvenienced when you're with me?" he says before yawning, a sign that he was about to succumb to exhaustion, and soon you feel a weight on your shoulder to see his blue hair nuzzling your face. ayato fell asleep on your shoulder as you held his hand, smoothing his knuckles over.
it was far from an uncomfortable silence. to have him resting on your shoulder, in your company, laying his guard down, and being vulnerable around you is enough to make your heart melt. you remember feeling something press against your head earlier when you were asleep on his shoulder, it felt like a kiss. and you know you'd always return the favor so you lean down a bit and kiss the top of his head, careful not to disturb him in this short slumber.
"take it easy sometimes, will you?" you whisper.
Heizou | The intimacy of “How did you know that?” “Because I know you.”
—you learned from the very start that heizou was a deductive person. it's like he knew everything as he was very quick to pick up on things. he even notices random stuff that you don't even know about. and all these little things he points out pile up and makes your heart flutter. you seriously think you're catching feelings and you hope this was one thing heizou won't know.
"you have something on your mind? you've been zoning out since earlier like your soul had flown out." he asks and you brush it off by saying you're just stressed from doing schoolwork. heizou won't pry if you don't want to tell him so instead...he's going to be the one to tell you something that's been weighing heavily on his mind.
it was just a peaceful day hanging out with him until he blurts out a confession out of the blue. "I like you (y/n)" he says and you're staring at him unbelievably with your eyes wide and mouth parted. he continues, "and I know that you like me too...at least from what I observed. turn me down if I'm wrong-"
"wait. how did you know that?" you cut him off. and you weren't even obvious with your crush from what you think. does he really know you that well to let you face your feelings for him?
"because i know you"
it had been bold of him to take that leap of faith to you. because there was that slight chance that he was just assuming and you only saw him as a friend. but his risk paid off knowing you all these years, staying by your side, and watching you fall for other people. for the first time, he chose to trust his guts rather than his mind. and it was rewarding to see you smile and hear your answer to his confession.
"once again you're right. i like you too, heizou"
Albedo | The intimacy of seeing someone’s unfocused eyes when they first wake up
—your eyes flutter open and the first thing you see is long lashes and striking tufts of blonde hair. you're curled up against the bed, a safe distance from this warm body and you haven't processed the information yet that your "classmate" is still here and you slept in the same bed together.
your parents are coming home today by the way.
you mutter a curse, soon realizing that the wet streets have dried and albedo is still here. oh my god. albedo! you wanted to scream but he looked so peaceful sleeping, you thought it would be a crime to wake him. but from your stirring and panic, you stop for a bit just to see his eyes flutter open, staring at the ceiling for a moment, revealing a lovely color of teal that soon moved to stare at you.
"good morning" he groggily greets and you say it back meekly. oh you've been a bad bad girl. when your parents are away from vacation, you invited your boyfriend to your house for a movie and cuddles since it was rainy season. turns out, you lead him to the bed for a continued cuddle session until you fell asleep.
you both sit up at the same time and you carefully watch what he does next. albedo looks at you as you flinch in surprise. "I should go now, you said your parents are coming back today, right?" you nod and he moves to kiss your forehead, feeling the warmth of his soft lips that closed your eyes. "I should've said no but unfortunately, I realized I couldn't resist you. I'm dating a bad influence." albedo says, playing with your fingers as you shake your head while giggling.
"let's have breakfast together first. then you can go after that, we have plenty of time." you whisper, kissing his cheek before going out of your room, feeling flushed and giddy from this intimate secret.
Kaeya | The intimacy of someone saying "Text me when you're home safe."
—"you don't have to do this", you shake your head looking up at him yet he gives you an easy smile in return. "this is the least I could do as your suitor." he insisted to wait with you at the stop until your transportation arrives. kaeya always made you feel safe and assured, he was constantly looking out for you. and before you go, he held your arm and said "Text me when you're home safe." so when you arrive, you let down your bag and pull out your phone to text kaeya.
"I'm home now! how about you?" you waited for a few minutes, growing worried until you see him typing a message that read, "home too. it's raining these days and it's going to be hard to commute. do you want me to give you a ride home starting tomorrow?"
you type in, feeling embarrassed yet he beat you to it saying "it's only for the rainy days. i hate seeing you squeezing against other commuters too."
yet he didn't say you'd see his brother too in the front seat with kaeya enthusiastically tapping the passenger seat at the back for you to sit in. it was very awkward in the car, proceeding to kaeya's smooth words that his brother lets out a groan every few minutes or so. you know it was his way of letting his brother know that he actually has a girl with him.
"hi can you please drop me off just around the corner? it will be fine thank you." you spoke to the driver with a smile and kaeya was confused as to why you wanted to be dropped off there.
"are you hiding something from me? a secret boyfriend coming over?" he teases yet he was quite nervous for the reason. you laugh it off, pushing him playfully before easing his worries.
"my parents still don't know about you, right? let's avoid any confrontations for now, I just don't want to be teased by my family that's all." you held his hand, giving it a little squeeze to see him break out in a small smile. "i'm not hiding something i swear! i'm serious about you. i like you kaeya!" if someone, even your neighbors saw this sleek black car parking in front and you coming out of it, it will certainly be the topic of gossip. you just wanted to avoid that.
"i know. i like you too. but was that your answer—" "ehem, (y/n) here we are. stay safe." diluc cuts him off with a cough, announcing your location and you pull away much to kaeya's dismay. you give him your brightest smile before shyly waving, thanking the brothers and the driver then got out of the car, walking to your house, knowing they're still there parked and watching you go in.
kaeya's phone beeps, a notification of your message saying, "I'm home! Thank you for the ride♡"
Childe | The intimacy of instantly recognising someone’s handwriting
—a piece of paper had found itself bouncing on your desk, all crumpled and white. you open it, not taking a glance at whoever behind you had thrown that but as soon as you open it you already know who it came from.
it was very evident from the handwriting, nice and clean but in terms of penmanship against other people you know, this person was on the middle tier. it was not something that gets someone to say "wow, your handwriting's good!" yet you loved seeing it anyway.
and you know he could see the corner of your lips rise from his view, it made him mirror the grin you so subtly hide in fear of being called out. you take a glance at the teacher before writing on the piece of paper.
replying to the message written, "Let's have lunch together :(( I miss you"
you write in, "Okay! And I missed you too even though we literally talked 10 minutes ago", you crumpled it back and threw the paper without looking, hoping ajax could somehow catch it.
have some faith in your boyfriend, would you? he's not part of the athletes if he's not that agile at catching. he secretly opens it and fails to hold back his chuckle that drew question marks above everybody's heads.
Scaramouche | The intimacy of answering the phone "Hey you."
—the phone rang, the door locked, and his heart fast as he was nervous about talking to you. pacing around, running a scenario of what would happen once you answered the phone.
scaramouche doesn't wait yet he finds himself wishing you'd pick up. but ultimately the tone ended without being answered and he was left with his screen showing a failed call.
he sighed, wanting to retire for the night until his phone rang once again with your name on it. he dives onto the bed to get ahold of the device and picks it up, speaking first as he always gets the first word.
"hey you"
"What's up?" he hated your dry reply. "What took you so long to pick up?" he wanted to know what kept you busy, didn't he tell you to always answer your phone when he calls?
"I took a shower and cleaned myself up. I'm literally in a towel. Why did you call?"
he didn't mean to do it but he immediately created a mental image of you freshly out of the shower with your hair wet and wearing a towel. the tip of his ears turned hot and he struggled to speak until you laughed over the phone and reminded him of what he was to you.
"hey boyfriend. you shouldn't be thinking of anything funny—"
"I wasn't!" he acted like a provoked cat as his shout tore that his mom shouted back asking who he was fighting. he was certainly fighting you and your schemes to get him all flustered, it worked though. and scara never changed, even after everything he always had the first word in calls. a "hey you" laced with unconcealed affection and a cheeky grin that follows.
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luvhughes43 · 5 months
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how does her injury happen/her brothers reaction
im going to be writing an in-depth fic for this aswell but with finals the next two weeks i dont have a lot of time! so here's some thoughts!
the injury itself happens during one of her competitions. it's her first season without her abusive coach, and so the pressure was on blake to win because her old coach was notorious for producing winners.
anyway! she agitates her back (which is an injury she's always had troubles with. she sprained it and it never properly healed due to her training) during her short program. she doesn't tell anyone about the injury because she needed to prove she could win. so she competes anyway...
everything's going fine in her long program, until shes almost at the end. she has a short sequence of jumps and she lands the first one fine, until she moves onto her next jump and completely falls out of it.
she falls on her back and shes literally sobbing out in pain on the ice clutching her back. she tries getting up but can't, and thats when the medical team rushes out.
reactions!
jack: actually freaking out. thats his twin! as soon as he sees that shes slow to get up hes rushing his whole family out of their seats so that he can get to her.
when he finds out how serious the injury is hes so upset. hes not allowed to see blake right away, and so hes literally cursing out loud in the hallways.
quinn: hes in shock. he doesnt really say or do anything right away, just sort of letting jack order him and everyone else around. when he finds out its serious, his hands are shaking but he tries his hardest to stay collected for jack who's literally panicking
luke: blake is luke's second mother! when she cries, he cries. and so when he hears her sobbing on the ice he's tearing up and immediately asking his family if she's going to be okay. he doesn't really know what to do when the doctors tell them its a serious injury. he just sits with blake and tries to distract her from the pain/realization that she may not be able to skate anymore. they watch tiktok's or something on his phone.
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sarucane · 5 months
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Why was finding Stede's letter so important for Ed?
Real talk, I adore the season 2 finale and to me the rush is worth it to have a safe ending place. But this episode is so overpacked, and Ed goes through such an incredible character arc and I love it, so here goes my rant on why he burst into tears and screamed at the forest when he read Stede's letter.
Ed is all goddamn over the place in the first part of this episode, tossed about by his insecurity and baffled by what is safe and what is unsafe. He has a voiceover about how amazing being a fisherman is, then ends up regressing into childhood trauma when another father figure freaks out over dinner. Ed doesn't even choose to leave the fisherman fantasy: the fantasy gets shattered and he gets fired in a high-speed parallel of Stede trying to go home (return to a safe, simple life) and finding he doesn't belong there in S1E10. At least Ed does manage to not drown in self-hatred on the way out.
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And then Ed returns to the pirate safe space, only to find that it's been invaded and taken over. And that his selfishness, the low self-esteem that distorted his view of reality and his relationship, may have had real consequences for someone he loves (another parallel with Stede, this time early season 2). Ed may have been off pretending to be a "dirty old fisherman" while Stede died.
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What was safe is now unsafe. All Ed has left is himself--so he really looks at himself.
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At the fact that the kraken is always there, no matter what clothes he wears or how deeply he tries to bury it. He can fight that and run from it, and end up losing everything. Or he can embrace it, and figure out what comes next. Be what he was made by his past, however dark that past was.
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But Ed's past wasn't all darkness. Ed walks onto the beach and gets a letter from the past, and suddenly there is something safe again in his world. Something worth killing for.
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Ed first started falling for Stede through the stories Stede built around himself, stories formed by boastful encounters with Izzy, muttered hallucinations, and trinkets decking his ship. Back then, Ed didn't believe he himself was a good person, didn't believe he could have friends. But Stede told him stories about friendship and treasure maps, and Ed took these to heart and told stories to match, and Ed found truth through the fiction.
Then Stede left, and those stories fell away for Ed. Ed embraced the story of the kraken, of Blackbeard. Instead of a story about love or survival, he wrote a story about an impossible bird, a raiding record, and a treacherous crew--and mourned a story about lost love.
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But Stede kept writing stories. He poured himself into his letters, poured his heart into sustaining his connection to Ed in spite of all the obstacles.
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Ed didn't believe in this story after Stede came back, even though he wanted to. He kept emotional distance from Stede, avoided risks, and bailed after two days. Because Ed didn't trust that their bond was solid, that their story was something that could survive Ed's darkness, insecurities, and damage. Didn't trust that what Stede said this time, he had truly thought about, and meant with all his heart.
Stede didn't get how insecure Ed was in all this, because Stede was just so sure of Ed, and of their love. Stede believed in his story with his whole soul, and Stede's stories have a way of creating reality--after all, the whole crew of the Revenge became "real boys." But he couldn't figure out how to communicate this to Ed, to let Ed believe it too.
And then, at a moment where his identity is fractured and re-forming, Ed finds this letter. And just like that, there's a solid ground of story beneath his feet.
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Because there was, in fact, solid ground beneath his feet all along.
Ed's and Stede's relationship, like all relationships, is hard. But they formed a real bond of love in season 1, and like Mary Bonnet said, being in love is easy. Ed can trust it--like he did before, but for real this time.
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Ed's figuring this out ruddy late. He and Stede didn't communicate these things to each other when they had the chance, and now the chance may have slipped away. So now, Ed yells his feelings at the world and runs off to try to find his person.
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When Ed finds Stede again, he doesn't hold back anything. He doesn't hesitate to kill, and he doesn't hesitate to drop his sword when he reaches Stede. They're finally face to face, in every way. Finally balanced, and seeing each other clearly, and able to communicate.
And, for the first time since he and Stede reached each other this season--for the first time since his vision in the Gravy Basket really--Ed is utterly vulnerable.
And entirely safe.
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 4 months
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hi mo! i want to wish you a HUGE congrats on your milestone (: you deserve every single follow and like and reblog! your writing is so, so good and it brings me sm comfort if youre still taking requests, can i pls request alfie + “how long has it been since someone hugged you?”
Oh Noni this was so sweet! You are so so kind. It brings me immense joy that my writing brings you comfort. That is the greatest compliment I could ever receive. I’m sending all my love to you darling, I hope you enjoy this.
Guys this is the last request from our 100 Follower Celebration!!! This was so fun and I am so in love with the community we have built here together!!! I’m currently working on our final installment of Interviews for New Beginnings!!! Anyway I love y’all so much, have an amazing day my loves!! - Mo
100 Follower Celebration: Always
Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cursing
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“Mr. Solomons. I know you don’t want to hear this… or anything I’ve said the past 10 years I’ve been your physician… but you really need to watch your stress levels sir. It may very well kill you one day.”
Dr. Young had been treating Alfie Solomons exclusively for 10 years. Every stab wound, bullet hole, and influenza season had been watched over diligently by the good doctor. But every month his largest concern was Alfie Solomons’ blood pressure and tension headaches. Unfortunately for Dr. Young… Alfie Solomons was the worst patient he ever had.
Alfie ripped the stethoscope off his burly chest and threw it back at his doctor, “Bah fuck off. Respectfully of course. I’m fine. I’m going to live longer than you mark my words. Stress is good for the body.”
Dr. Young shrugged, there was no use fighting with Alfie. Usually Alfie would see reason and silently beckon and repent right before death came knocking, “If you believe Mr. Solomons. Anyway I want you to keep counting your pulse and recording it. Not that you’ll do it I wager. But I’ll be back same time next week.”
“Yeah, right. See Ollie gives you your fee. And double check with my secretary that your window is still open.”
Dr. Young smiles, “I’ll be sure to let her know that I gave you a task so that she keeps you accountable as well.”
As he walked out, leaning heavily on his wooden cane to offset his heavy medical bag, Alfie hollered after him, “You will do no such thing damn you! Ask her the schedule and nothing else!”
Alfie hears the slight chuckle of his ancient physician behind the closed door. Alfie finally lets out the sigh of relief he had been holding tightly all morning. His head falls into his calloused hands. The slow and rhythmic push and rush of his palms against his eyes and temple soothe the panging and banging in his head. An ache that has been ever present for the past few days. One that hasn’t been aided at all by the lack of water in his day to day.
The past few days have been Alfie’s own personal hell. The Americans’ prohibition on spirits has added another layer of problems to the business. New men had been hired and were not all bright, causing more mistakes than their bodies were worth. Cops were getting greedy, and were needing more to smooth their hands and seal their lips. Usually, a boss would have been able to hand off problems to lower levels. Not Alfie. Never Alfie. Alfie doesn’t get to give jobs to anyone else. No one wants to help Alfie. Alfie is to solve every problem. By himself. If he doesn’t do it, it will not get done. If he doesn’t fix it, everything will fall. But it’s always been like this. Ever since his father passed away, he’s been the man. He’s been the fixer. The protector. The boss. The leader. He alone can do it. He alone does it. He alone. He is alone.
Through the barricade of his stress and rage and sweat and stiff muscles, he hears his door click open, and the soft tap of your feet across the floor boards. Your sweet bell voice tingles his nerves, “Alright Alfie I set up Dr. Young’s appointment next week so you are all settled. This afternoon you have two more meetings. Mr. Yusef and Mr. Edmonds. Also you will need to look over the shipping particulars for the shipment to New York in three we- Alfie are you alright?”
You pause looking at his face. He’s always looked rather scruffy and wild but this was different. His face was gaunt and ashen. His usually ruddy cheeks were pale and covered in a thin sheen of sick sweat. Those bright blue and sparkling eyes looked glossy. If you didn’t know better… they could almost be tears.
You don’t even let him try and explain away his symptoms.
“We’re cancelling the rest of your meetings today. No arguements.”
Screaming. Shouting. Bellowing. The glass in the window panes shake. The wood of the desks bang like the sound of gunshots and canons. “VILE WOMAN YOU TOUCH THAT CALENDAR YOU ARE FIRED DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU BRING YOURSELF BACK HERE NOW!”
You ignore him, calling the other secretaries, having to shout over the bellows and cries of your melodramatic yet beloved boss. The excuse you concocted didn’t matter. You wouldn’t care to remember the story you told. You would deal with it later. What mattered was clearing the calendar to make sure that Alfie could be released from his bindings that he so tightly wound around himself cutting the circulation and breath of peace.
You set the cornflower blue and cream colored tea pot on the little stove in the corner. Gingerly stoking the flame, coaxing warmth and light into a sweet roar. You call for hearty treats from the bakery next door, a good array to settle the spirit of your war laden boss. Soon the tea is ready and the soulful remedies are set. The roaring of the animal in the office has settled into rumbles. It was safe to enter.
Upon entering Alfie is again shouting, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve treacle. I am your boss. I am your superior officer. I pay your paycheck. And you have the absolute fucking audacity to…”
You let the hot words wash over you like a summer storm. You place your tools of healing on Alfie’s desk, swiftly and quietly. You take your spot in your chair across from him, grabbing his worry worn wooden pipe and filling it with his tobacco. Like a dance you’ve done a thousand times, he gingerly takes that pipe from you as he’s still yelling and scolding, pausing briefly to light it and suck in that air like it’s his last meal.
You smile as he blusters on like a thunder cloud. There was no true threat. You would never really be fired. Even if he was cross with you. There was a certain comfort in the noise. Like the storm cloud the noise signified that there was still life and that a calm would soon follow. But there was still the tightness in his shoulders. There was still that look you saw before he started to storm and blow. In a feat of courage you cocked your head to the side, “When was the last time someone hugged you?”
Immediate silence.
“What. What the fuck did you just ask me?”
“When’s the last time someone hugged you? You look like you need one sir.”
His index finger might as well have been a loaded pistol the way he pointed at you, “Men do not hug. I have never been hugged nor will I ever hug do you hear me? Hugged?! It’s even a ridiculous word. I mean… hugged?! No! I don’t want one I don’t need one that is completely and utterly ridiculous!”
You smile, knowing that he would say something like that. As if approaching a wild dog you put your hand out, offering yourself to him. Offering your vulnerability to him. Alfie stared down as thought it held an invisible gun, unsure what it was you held. Carefully and out of practice, he slowly slipped his hand in yours. Cool and smooth fingertips against is hot rough hands. Your hands so easily slips around his, finally finding its home. To Alfie’s absolute shock, he watches as your perfect thumb runs patterns and circles around his scarred knuckles and ornate rings. He watches the way your lashes flutter and soft smile blooms on your face. In a gentle caress to his ears you say, “You know you don’t have to keep it all inside. You can ask for help.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. But doesn’t move his hand away, “I don’t need help.”
You laugh, and he feels his heart skip, “Oh I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure you could run this entire thing by yourself.”
“I could.”
“I know.”
Alfie hums, satisfied that he’s won enough. You sit in silence, the muffled sounds of the distillery and street below being the only signs that you’re still on Earth. Alfie never moved his hand, never responding to your ministrations beyond a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you… for… being here.” Alfie finally breaks the silence. He can’t help the blush that rises to his ears and cheeks. He can’t look away from the smile on your perfect lips.
You nod at him, squeezing his hand and shaking it. “Always.”
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