#mittens updates | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Kid II

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You get injured during the derby against Chelsea

To be honest, getting injured was the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

It wasn't even a big injury but the embarrassment was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and die.

"Oh, shit," You swore, clutching at the side of your face as pain radiated through your entire head.

Chelsea's Millie Bright, the player you had collided with, looked down at you in horror. "You doing alright, l/n?"

"No." You voice came out nasally and you refused to move your hand, laying on your back. "Ow."

"We're gonna need medics over here!" Bright turned her attention fully onto you, trying to pry your hand away. "Let me see."

"No." It was bad enough you got injured during a derby match, even worse as one of the greatest brick walls in the game tried to inspect your injuries. It was frankly embarrassing.

"Come on," She said again," Let me just check you over. That's a lot of blood."

"She said no, Bright." Katie appeared out of nowhere, shoving Bright back with a sneer before crouching over you. "Let me see, kid."

"What happened to me saying no?"

"No concussion then," She shot back," If you're crackin' jokes like that. Bright's right though, awful lot of blood."

When you finally moved your bloodstained hand from your face, Alessia and Vic had arrived with a medic.

"Ooh," Alessia winced, covering Vic's eyes with her hand," That looks mingin'."

"Feels minging," You replied.

Your nose was definitely fractured in some way - not fully out of place but in pain enough that you knew you would sitting out the next few matches. Your eyebrow had a cut on it too, leaking blood at an alarming rate.

Katie looked over your injuries for a moment before she surged towards Bright. Caitlin and Lina hurried to grab her arms, holding her in place as she spat profanities.

"Let's get you up, kid," Kim said as she arrived, helping you to your feet with Jen taking up your other side," They'll need to pressure wrap. Throw in some stitches too."

You groaned, knowing that you weren't coming back on the pitch anytime soon.

"You'll be okay," Jen said soothingly," We'll get you sorted right out."

Beth was subbed on in your place, taking a moment to hold your chin in her hand so she could move your head around. You knew that your eyes would slowly be bruising because of your nose injury and that your eyebrow was still leaking blood.

She nodded firmly before she made her way onto the pitch.

"Come on," Viv took Kim's place," Let's get you treated."

It was blisteringly cold day so you shivered slightly as you were guided to the bench. Lotte reached forward from behind you, draping her coat over your shoulders while Viv looked at you in disapproval (having told you earlier in the locker room to make sure you brought your coat out).

The medics fussed over you for a second. Your nose was the least of their concerns as your eyebrow continued to bleed.

They spoke over your head like you weren't there, updating Viv as Laia gave you her mittens.

"Stitches, definitely," One of the medics said as they wrapped a compression bandage around your head," We can get it done now. You alright to get up?"

You nodded. "I'm good."

●～●～●～●～

The remaining members of the ACL squad joined you in the corridor, abandoning the rest of the match in favour of checking you over.

"Hey!" You laughed as Teyah flopped on top of you.

"Oh, don't give me that!" She grinned at you," You're fine. Nasty looking bandage though." She poked you in your cheek.

"Teyah," Leah said sternly," Be careful. She still needs stitches..." She studied your face. "And someone to take a look at that nose."

Teyah rolled her eyes but clambered off you as Laura approached, clapping you on the back.

"When you went down, I half thought that you'd be joining the ACL squad."

You laughed before wincing when your nose ached. "Trust me, I've no plans to join you all."

Leah, who had stopped scolding Teyah, looked at you incredulously. "What? Why not? The ACL squad is the coolest gang on the block!"

"On the block?" You exchanged a look with Teyah. "Leah, how old are you?"

She swatted you on the shoulder with an eye roll. "I'd take you to the floor, if you weren't injured."

"Then I'm glad I'm injured."

She softened. "The cut looked nasty, though. How are you feeling?"

"Like I hit a brick wall and then the ground."

Leah threw her head back and laughed. "Yeah," She said," That sounds like the Millie Bright experience."

"Can you tell her to work out less?" You asked as the club doctor came in with a suture kit. "It'd be nicer next time we go against each other, not to run into a wall of muscle."

"To be fair," Laura said softly," It's more like she ran into you."

You groaned, checks puffed out in embarrassment. "Then I'm just the idiot kid who didn't see her coming."

"Sit up, l/n," The doctor said," Let's get this over and done with."

●～●～●～●～

By the time you had been properly stitched up and given the go ahead to leave, the match had five minutes left.

You took a seat on the bench, curling into Stina's side (she must have been subbed off at some point during your treatment).

She had very much taken you under her wing for your time at Arsenal - although, you were half sure that was because as soon as Magda and Frido got word about your potential move, they bullied every England based Swede into watching out for you - but this inspection was a new kind of hovering.

"Are you sure that's stuck on properly?" She peppered you with questions. "Did they say how long you had to keep it on? What about your head? Do you have a concussion?"

"Calm down, Stina," Amanda said with an eyeroll," If she wasn't fine, they wouldn't have let her come back." She frowned before turning to you. "Right? They wouldn't have let you leave if you weren't alright?"

"Four days for the stitches," You said," And a week of light training - not on the pitch - because of my nose. Two weeks on the bench. If I get hit in the nose again before that, it might fully break it."

Stina nodded sympathetically as Lina appeared, an arm going over your shoulder and jostling you slightly.

"Looking good, kiddo. Bright really took a chunk out of you."

You groaned. "Don't remind me. I know that this is going to be all over Twitter by the end of the night."

Cloe snickered behind you, passing over her phone. "It's already done."

You groaned again, rolling your head into Stina's shoulder to hide.

Your embarrassment at Cloe reading out the tweets and reaction pictures was ended when the final whistle blew and you hurried away from the group to join some of the others on the pitch.

Kyra giggled at you when you joined her, Frida and Kathrine on the pitch. She poked your nose with a lazy grin. "You're gonna have panda eyes."

You rolled your eyes. "You try running into Millie Bright and coming out unscathed."

"Katie nearly beat her up," Frida said as she and Kathrine looped arms with you," It was kind of funny."

"Caitlin and Lina had to hold her back. She almost got carded," Kathrine continued.

"It's not a game if Katie doesn't get carded."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Caitlin appeared at of nowhere with Steph," She's lucky Bright thought she was more funny than anything."

"It was like watching a chihuahua square up to a pitbull," Steph reported," Wait. Give me a second. I think I can get it up."

"I'm good," You said," I don't need to see it. Not if it's going to show me going down. It's so embarrassing."

"It's already been sent on the chat," Kyra said with one of her silly grins," Bright looks really stricken when you go down though. The camera mainly focusses on her. Total meme potential."

"As long as it's not me."

●～●～●～●～

Escaping the roving eyes of your fellow Swedes was fairly easy when you ducked towards the fans, signing shirts and posters and laughing when people complimented your bandage.

"It's very fashionable," Noelle butted in with a crooked grin as she appeared at your side.

Your cheeks coloured, knowing she was teasing you. "Shut up," You muttered, shoving her lightly as you wiggled away.

Her fingers dug into your sides and you shrieked. She didn't let up and the fans were eating up your interaction. You turned around suddenly and shook her off, preparing to make a break for it but was blocked by Gio.

"Careful y/n/n," She said, sticking out her tongue at you," Don't bump into me or you'll actually break your nose this time."

"Hey!" You exclaimed," That was very traumatic for me! And you just bring it up casually?! For shame, Gio!"

You could feel Noelle closing in on you so you made another break for it, only for Manu to appear out of thin air. Her arms wrapped around your waist tightly and flung you back into Noelle's path.

You crashed into her not unlike when you crashed into Bright but with much more finesse. Noelle guided you down with her, taking a lot of care to make sure that she didn't slam your face into anything else.

From behind you, you could hear Manu, Sabrina and Naomi howl with laughter.

"Honestly," Lia said as she approached," You're all children. She could have been seriously hurt."

"She's already get panda eyes," Sabrina said," There's not much else we could have done."

"Except snap her nose this time," Naomi added and this time you joined in with the laughter.

"I'm fine, Lia, promise." You rose to your feet slowly and did a little twirl to prove your point before Lia pointed you back towards the locker room.

Alessia, Vic, Laia and Lotte were waiting for you.

"You look a lot better now," Vic said as you approached," There was a lot of blood."

"Millie is very sorry by the way," Less added as Laia rubbed your arms in an attempt to get you warm again," I think it really scared her. She's a softie really. She's sending you a gift basket."

"Ooh!" Laia exclaimed," I like marshmallows! Make sure there's marshmallows in it, Less!"

"Hey!" You nudged her in the ribs. "It's my gift basket not yours! I want chocolate. Please, tell her chocolate, Less!"

"I'll tell her," Lotte said," Seeing as Lessi will forget as soon as she goes home." She whipped at her phone. "You're still crashing with Stina, right? I'll text Millie your address too, so she knows where to send it."

You grinned triumphantly. "If it gets here within the week, I reckon I can convince Stina to let me eat some before my cheat day!"

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

825 notes · View notes

asterias-record-shop · 9 months

Note

BINGOO! Can you please write a Miguel O’Hara sugar daddy story with prompt 15? I’m not creative enough to write a description for this but could you add a mention of the age gap? Miguel is Like 30 or something. Reader is young and wants money ofc. They met online and are meeting up irl. Thank youu

—𓆩[mi menté, cuerpo, corazón, y alma]𓆪—

I am so sorry anón honey, I got completely carried away!! I hope you enjoy it though!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Modern AU! CEO! Sugar Daddy! Soft! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Baby! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.1K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You loved being a sugar baby. Truly, you did. The only con was the fact that you had to get with someone who was literally a hair away from dying, so when Miguel found you, it was truly a saving grace. After a while, he made you cut off all of your other sugar daddies, easily matching what they give you and more. Things have gotten weird lately, though… and you’re not sure how to take it, even when he says everything is ‘strictly pleasure’.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || obsessive behavior || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship || possessive! Miguel || his wife and daughter do not exist anymore 🤍 like at all || Latina coded reader || featuring Jessica Drew as another CEO because we love her (spider-verse variant) || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship turned real relationship || i speak rancho spanish so i write rancho spanish, it ain’t google translate so it might not make sense- || miguel is lowkey an asshole so he is an asshole now || fighting || you make him fix himself || i’m ngl, i don’t know what the hell i did but i had fun and there’s smut so enjoy || this is so much more kinky than it initially was going to be- || kinda OOC Miguel || sub turned dom! reader || sub! Miguel || sounding || cbt || slight oral || praise & degradation || riding || non-protected sex || cumming inside || ending is supposed to be humorous I’m not weird ||

Finding a sugar daddy that wasn’t quadruple your age was hard. Very, very hard. What was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just become billionaires at twenty-five?

Bastards.

Oh, but then Miguel O’Hara came along. A man in his early thirties that absolutely towered over you at 6’9”, built like a fucking god with looks to match and wealth to pair.

In the beginning, though, you had your doubts, so many doubts. You didn’t know what made him drawn to you in the first place, mainly because you had over five sugar daddies and he easily matched the prices immediately and made you get rid of them. He easily matched all your prices, doing even more before purchasing a test to make sure you were ‘healthy’.

After that, everything else happened extremely quickly - him buying you a car, jewelry and clothes, but the most recent was having you move in with him in his extremely large mansion. The first thing you noticed was that he had nothing in his home that gave it personality. No pictures, just crazy expensive art and photographs of things that were also crazy expensive.

He didn’t even have plants. Or a dog. Or a cat, something to give him some sort of personality besides that stupidly hot face. And stupidly hot money, but that’s why he was at work while you were at a shelter, promising yourself that you’d take some sort of pet home. You had settled on a kitten, a tuxedo kitten with a little bow tie and a mustache, along with small little mittens on his paws.

He immediately curled in your lap, a giggle falling from your lips as you stroked the back of his head. “I’ll take this one… I’m gonna name him Hart.”

And with that, you took him home. You bought him his own bed and all of the toys he could ever want or need, and you sat in the closet you had made his room as you wagged the cat toy in front of him, Jessica on the phone.

“Y/N, I really think you’re going to kill him bringing that cat into his house!” She laughed, snacking on her latest craving.

“Oh, he won’t! You’re being overdramatic, he’s gonna love Hart,” you wiggle the stick some more, the kitten swatting at it as you heard Miguel’s loud voice yell out for you. “Oh! He’s here, I’ll call you later Jess! Love you!”

“Don’t get killed!”

You giggled as you hung up and quickly stood, running out and fixing your skirt. “Miguel!”

He was tired today, you could tell. His body was more tense than you had ever seen, the buttons at the top of his shirt undone and his tie loose with his blazer open. You paused, his clenched fists making you swallow slightly. You had your share of violent lovers, and you sure as hell weren’t going to have another.

“Hola, mi reina,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he set down his briefcase and his fists unclenched. He softly set his hand on your hip, kissing softly against your temple as he sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day.”

You inhaled as he softly pressed kisses down your temple around your eye, along the apple of your cheek. “Wh-What happened?”

He shook his head, his hands going from your hips to the pretty skin of your thighs that was exposed by the skirt. “Stupid idiots who don’t know how to fucking do their job.”

You hummed softly as you stroked the back of his head, twirling the locks of his hair with your fingers as you kissed his sharp jaw. You were already on your tiptoes, his hands supporting you as he ducked down. “I’m so sorry, Miguel,” you whispered as he let out a soft hum. “I uhm… I got something.”

“Ah si?” he responded, his hands slipping under your skirt to tease your pretty cunt. “Es esto, mi reina?”

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Lemme show you.”

He smiled as you dragged him along, pulling him toward the closet you turned into the kitten’s room before turning around. “You can’t get mad.”

He started to cross his arms, raising a brow. “Why would I get mad?”

“You won’t be mad because you can’t. That’s my whole point,” you say, nodding firmly. “Okay?”

“You can’t say I can’t get mad and expect me not to get mad.”

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, shaking your head as he hummed softly and leaned down. “Just… trust me.”

He hummed again as you opened the door, the loud mews of the kitten making his eyes widen. You felt your smile disappear as you inhaled, shaking your head as you turned around. “This is Hart! He’s a little spy,” you giggled, kissing the kitten’s small head. “H-He was named after-”

“I know who he’s named after, Y/N,” Miguel growled, glaring at the kitten in your hand. “Why is it in my house?”

“Our house,” you correct him, a scoff falling from his lips. “What?”

“My house,” he basically growled, stepping forward as you started to step back. “Just because I fuck you like a ragdoll and cum inside of you like a cumdump doesn’t mean that this is your house.”

You inhaled as you held the kitten closer to your chest, scoffing. “You’re a fucking bastard, Miguel O’Hara. This is strictly business as always, isn’t it? You fucking asshole.”

He scoffed as you went around him, shaking his head. “This is mine, Y/N! All of it!”

“It might be yours, Miguel, but you don’t want it! You keep this giant house full of nothing that you love, nothing that you care for! You don’t even have a damn plant here!” You yelled at him, inhaling as you sent him a glare. “You’re a self absorbed bastard, Miguel.”

“I have you here,” Miguel spoke, something that completely betrayed his previous words. “You’re… all I could ever need.”

“You don’t need me though. The only thing that you fucking need is a damn whore,” you shake your head, keeping Hart close to your chest. “I will get myself a lawyer to get myself out of this contract, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

“Y/N, wait-”

“No! Fuck you!” You were already rushing to your room - which was sadly one you shared with Miguel - locking it before he could come in after you.

“Y/N, amor… mi amor, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not!” You yelled, sighing. How could you ever think this would go any other way? “Just… go away!”

To be honest, you weren’t sure what made you think you could love him. Actually love him and have it reciprocated, but you didn’t want to leave. You had worked so hard in this relationship with Miguel, gaining his trust and what you thought was his love, for fucks sake you couldn’t lose it now. What he said just… got to you.

It wasn’t until you heard a soft knock that you unlocked the door, Miguel slowly stepping into the room. “What do you want?”

“I just… look at this,” he gave you the binder, swallowing. “If you uhm… look at it, it annuls our last contract… if you sign it, mi amor-”

“What, are you gonna try and bribe me?” I ask, softly scratching Hart’s ear before he gives you the binder.

“Perdóname, amor,” he whispers, slowly falling to his knees in front of you. You certainly weren’t expecting this. “Read it.”

“Summarize it for me.”

“It says that you own me,” he says, tilting his head. “Everything I own, you own. Everything I am is yours,” he takes your hand, softly kissing against your wrist. “I’m sorry… that it took me so long to see how important you are to me. Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, y alma.”

You swallow as you stare at the dotted line, looking down at him as he kisses your skin. “Tu cuerpo? Es mío?”

He groaned as your hand shapes his jaw, softly tugging on his hair as Hart jumped down, sauntering out of the room as though he knew what was about to happen. “Todo es tuyo, mi amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his hair so he’d stare up at you. “Todo lo que quieras, es tuyo. Nomás me digas y es tuyo. Todo, todo es tuyo.”

You hummed, sighing as you moved your hips to come off the bed slightly. “Show me. Show me that you belong to me and I’ll sign it.”

He hummed, sending you a smile as he started to kiss against your wrist. “Of course, mi reina.”

You smile slightly as he starts to tug off his shirt, carefully unbuttoning and kissing along your calf before slipping off your heels. “If this keeps going, Miguel, you need to know that I’m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Ya se, mi reina,” he whispers, his tongue flattening up your thigh as he pulls down your skirt. “I’m aware.”

“I’m going to sign that shit in your cum.”

He laughed, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do, mi amor.”

You tilted your head down at him, raising a brow. “That raises no red flags?”

“No, they’re actually green.”

You hold back a laugh as he slowly stands up, already taking off his clothes before you put up a finger. “I’m in charge, right?”

“Yes,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What would you like me to do, hm?”

“Get on the bed,” you say, standing and slipping off your clothes. “Why are you just standing there? Go.”

Miguel smirked slightly, but followed your orders, his bare body looking perfect against the bed. “Well, what do you want me to do next, mi amor?”

You hummed, staring for another few minutes. “Get hard. I’ll be back.”

You go into your closet, but after hearing Miguel’s moans, you knew he listened to what you said. It wasn’t until you went into your drawer filled with sex toys did you know what you wanted to do - oh, you were going to make him sob. You grabbed the small silver toy you had never had the chance to use on him, biting your lip as you finished taking off the rest of your clothes and fixing your bra and underwear.

It was normal to makeup with Miguel with sex, then talk about what happened and why it should never happen again before you fell asleep, resulting in Miguel waking you up with breakfast in bed and another lavish apology gift.

When you walked out, you smiled when you saw Miguel bucking his hips into his hand, his thick cock dribbling precum out of his bright red tip. “Look how pretty your cock is, baby… so, so pretty.”

He lets out a dry laugh, groaning. “Oh yeah? Que vas hacer?”

You giggled, slowly sliding between his legs and taking out the metal sounding rod. “Voy a jugar con lo que es mío.”

He lets out a choked moan as the cold tip of the rod dragged in a circle along the tip of his cock, already lubed up so you wouldn’t hurt him, a giggle escaping your lips as you slowly pushed it into his cock. He lets out a choked moan as you laugh, watching as it slowly disappears inside of his cock.

“Hijo de su pinche madre,” he cursed, groaning as he bucked his hips, stomach clenching as you watched his body slowly fall to your mercy. “Amor, please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you.”

“Cállate,” you ordered, giggling as you pushed it inside until the ring was showing, your mouth latching onto his balls and sucking softly. “Come on, be a good boy and fuck it.”

He cursed as he starts to roll his hips, following the sounding rod as he groaned loudly. One of your hands rubs along his thighs, giggling as you stared up at his face all scrunched and desperate. He really did make a good sub.

“Come on, don’t stop now, Miguel, you’re doing so good,” you move away from his balls but continue to cup them, moving so that his fat cock was settled on his abdomen and you rubbed your now bare pussy against his shaft. “Come on baby, I know you want to cum. As soon as you cum, I’ll put your cock in me and I’ll let you fuck me.”

He groaned loudly, almost growl-like sounds falling from his lips as he forced his hips to go faster, fucking into the sounding rod as he rubbed against your wet cunt. You couldn’t hold back your own moans, the friction of his cock perfect against your cunt and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

“Amor, please, please!” He was begging to cum, even if he didn’t quite know it yet, a groan falling from your lips as you continued to squeeze and rub his balls. He had never been this quick to cum, and you knew you’d have to try this again soon. “I’m close, chingao, I’m close.”

You let out a laugh as you watch the sounding rod start to be pushed out, pushing it back in as he whined. “Not yet, amor mío.”

“Por favor, mi vida, necesito- fuck!” He screamed out as you continued to hump against his length, pushing and pulling the rod in and out of his cock.

“Say it again. That you’re mine.”

“Fuck, I’m yours! Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, corazón, y alma, ¡chingada madre!” He yelled out as you finally let go of the sounding rod, watching it pop out of his cock and a perfect, pornographic cumshot follow. You moved your hand from his balls, lifting your hips as you continued to pump his shaft. You watched as the pearlescent liquid spurts onto his toned abdomen, smiling before cupping your hand in front of his tip and gathering his cum.

He panted, watching as you slowly smeared it along your cunt and placed the sounding rod onto the nightstand. “Next time we need to go bigger.”

“Whatever you say, amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his cock to push into your cunt, another loud groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know,” you spoke, laughing slightly as you gasped. No matter how many times his cock was inside of you, you never got used to it. “Fuck, Miguel, It’s like you get bigger every time.”

“Maybe I do,” he smirked, offering that playful wording as you finally sat on his pelvis, groaning loudly. “Look at how perfect you look with my cock inside of you, mi reina. Fucking perfect.”

You whimpered, groaning as you started to roll your hips, his cock feeling as though it was deeper than it ever was. “N-No, no.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “No what, amor? Tell me.”

“Stop that,” you order, knowing damn well if he kept talking like that you’d soon be on your back begging for him to fuck you. That’s now how it was going to happen, not today. “I’m in charge. Not you.”

“I never said you weren’t, amor-”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips firmly to his as he held your hips, helping you rock onto his cock. “Stop talking.”

He laughs as his other hand pulled you in for another firm kiss, your hands searching for the contract before his hips slam up into you. You pulled away, gasping as he lets out a loud groan, cursing. “Thought you needed some help, mi amor.”

Your hands claw against his shoulders as he keeps your chest pressed to his, using his strength to easily thrust up into you. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even let you have this, but you weren’t complaining as he grunted underneath you and you felt his cock rub against every place you ever wanted him to be. He repeatedly thrusted into you at that perfect rate to hit that spot inside of you that just made your body go limp, stomach twisting and turning.

One of the pros of having a man who knew your body like the back of his hand was that you could always count on him making you cum.

You gasped as his cock finally thrusted against that perfect spot that easily made you come undone, mind blurring as you basically see stars right as your nails dig into his skin. Your cunt clenched and squeezed his cock as a result of your orgasm, a hissed groan falling from his lips as he thrusted a few more times and finally came inside of you.

Your eyes rolled back, the added feeling of his cum spurting inside of you, filling you up as your inner thighs started to register slight heat from the power of his thrusts. You panted as you started to sit up, Miguel letting out a slight laugh before you grabbed the sounding rod and the contract.

“Q-Qué estás haciendo?”

You looked up at him, giggling as you dipped the rod into his cum. “I said I was going to sign it with your cum.”

“Mierda, Y/N, don’t do that!”

“What?! You think I was joking?! I said it was a red flag!”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪 𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪 𓆩[@theonetheonly-mee]𓆪

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪 𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪 𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪 𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪

471 notes · View notes

mamamittens · 22 days

Text

I did my Level Best to empty out all new blorbo thoughts to properly attend to my two commissions so we'll see how that goes tomorrow after work I suppose.

A sneaky peak at my hard work designing yet another precious pokemon OC with a backstory too damn sad for me to function nearly two days cause my weakness can be boiled down to "Old Yeller Adjacent"

The design for Finley Novak, 19~ retired champion of Kanto with the second shortest run behind (I believe) Gary who managed to beat the previous champion just before you and gloated for all of five minutes... I think it was Gary at least. I don't have clear memories of whoever Red's rival was.

They actually inspired Red's rise to fame despite the tragedy, though he didn't need a psychic pokemon to battle.

Their title is "The Lone Champion" due to the accidental explosion (Team Rocket attack that got out of hand) of the Indigo League just before they were officiated after beating the previous champion that resulted in the death of her entire team. They moved from Kanto to Unova when they turned 18, desperate to escape the dark shadow of their fame.

Ironically, if it wasn't for this incident, they would have been "The Silent Champion" due to their selective mutism. They directed their team in battle through Silver, their Abra and starter.

Following years of therapy, a series of successful children's books that started as a therapy project, and managing to take on another support pokemon (Platinum 'Plat' the shiny riolu), they wish to take steps to get back into battling via the Battle Subway.

They tends to squat in battle as their nerves make them unsteady and it provides a unique view of the field. They only stand when they're confident there's nothing else they need to see. They also constantly cover their eyes, finding eye contact intimidating. Sign language is unreliable since their hands shake easily so they often have to pause and start over slowly to enunciate their signs.

Fin speaks softly to her Pokemon whenever possible to make sure her voice still works but as of yet, cannot manage to speak to other people, even her therapist.

Still not sure if she does the plot of black/white or is just present while it happens. We'll see how fun and fancy free I feel about it later but I'm definitely interested in her going through Arceus Legends with the baneful fox mask.

#mittens updates #mittens rambles #pokemon oc #no romance only friendship and sadness

1 note · View note

onyourhyuck · 2 years

Text

〔 MASTERLIST FICS 〕

.　 *　.　　　　. 　 ° 　. ● ° .

¸ .　　★　° :.　 . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　☆

° :. ° .☆ 　 . ● .° °★

★　　★°★ . 　*　　.　 °☆ 　. ● . ★　° .　 •

[Lee Haechan.]

Lowlife part 2.

Light Weight.

Lowlife.

Heart 2 Heart.

Growing Pains.

I just want to get high with my lover.

Sore Loser. <3

Faith In You.

Red String Theory Part 3.

Red String Theory Part 2.

Red String Theory Part 1.

KEEP IT A SECRET.

Back 2 U.

More Than Friends, Less Than Lovers.

Rules.

Childish.

Reflections.

3:00 AM.

6:00 AM.

Meddle About.

Sorry, Heart.

Bully.

MIROTIC Love.

One Thousand Desires.

Womaniser.

Needin’ Gangsta Love.

Hate The Game Not The Player.

Contract Love.

Quiet Down.

Professional Teaser.

Unpredictable.

He provoked me!

[Mark Lee.]

Ultimate Spider-Man: Spider-Mark.

GOLDEN HOUR.

Crimson Lace Part 2

Crimson Lace Part 1

MIRACLES DO HAPPEN.

BEST FRIEND.

Ballin Series: Shooting My Shot.

5:55PM.

Cupid’s Chokehold.

Looks That Kill.

Rockstar.

Déjà Vu.

Peppermint?

Not So Holy Afterall.

[Jung Jaehyun.]

Do I Wanna Know?

Perfume.

White Night.

2 Baddies Jaewoo.

Sweater Weather Part 1.

Sweater Weather Part 2.

Sweater Weather Part 3.

Ballin Series: Meet Me At The Court.

[Lee Taeyong.]

CANDY.

[Lee Jeno.]

Double Whammy.

Sleigh Race.

Anti Romantic.

Neighbour From Hell.

Sinking Ships.

Just The Way I Like It.

Tutor Sesh.

Ridin’.

Jealousy, Jealousy.

[Na Jaemin.]

Mrs Na? Part 2.

Mrs Na? Part 1.

The Anatomy Of Na Jaemin.

Obsession.

10:00PM.

Her Protector.

Kiss & Make Up.

His Princess.

Knight In Shining Armour.

[Park Jisung.]

Special Mittens.

7 Days.

REPLAY.

[Huang Renjun.]

Giddy’ Up!

Trigger The Fever.

Oops! I Did It Again.

Sneaky Link.

Devil’s Touch.

Just A Substitute.

[Na Yuta.]

We Met In April.

Baby Daddy.

The Cursed Nine Tailed.

Touch.

[Kim Doyoung.]

Rent A Boyfriend.

Kiss.

The Next Step.

Exam SZN.

[Kim Jungwoo.]

Dive.

Can We Go Back?

CANDY.

2 Baddies Jaewoo.

Options.

[Johhny Suh.]

His Healer.

Never-Ending Goodbyes Part 1

CANDY.

Unbreakable Promise: Meet Me In Another Life.

Only His.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this post and follow me for more updates it helps out.

Tags: @angelbabyhyuck

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct series #jeno smut #nct hard hours #nct masterpost #nct masterlist #nct scenarios #nct jaemin smut #mark smut #haechan smut #johnny smut #jaehyun smut #renjun smut #jisung fluff

3K notes · View notes

fatallyfalling · 4 months

Text

Darling ~ ♆

“ C’mere Darling, “

warnings: pure fluff, little bit of ptsd if ya squint, reader is gender neutral but has rlly short hair

{{ prompt }} the night is too hard to bear alone, so you seek out the one person who can make everything feel safe again

{{ a/n }} because i’m a liar and can’t post consistent updates for Bitter Water here is a drabble because i’m sad and dysphoria is kicking my ass <3 this is 100% self indulgent i’m so sorry, i also didn’t run this through my normal editing software so please be nice aaaaaaaaaaa

You didn’t like sleeping alone, in fact you despised it.

The bed felt too big and too cold. The dark shadows in the corners near your wardrobe were too ominous to look at for long periods of time as well. You barely wanted to close your eyes, fearing the vivid night terrors that lurked in the trenches of your memories after the sun had set. You tried to comfort and self soothe by keeping a small string of warm lights curled around your headboard but it wasn’t enough to keep the poltergeists in your head away tonight.

With a shaky sigh you pulled yourself from the soft bedding and tugged on a familiar too-big ivory, cable knit sweater that smelled of sea salt with a faded almonds and honey aroma. Pausing to deeply inhale the comforting scent for a moment, the tightness in your chest uncoiled itself a smidge. Blinking away the exhaustion in your eyes, you picked up the comfort item you couldn’t bear to sleep without, threadbare seams from years of love and all, and hugged the plush close before padding out of your bedroom and downstairs towards your front door.

The dusty blue walls and white baseboards had always been too ornate for your liking, and the house you’d been gifted in the Victors Village was too creaky and empty to be alone in all the time. Without caring to slip on a pair of shoes, you left the large empty house and crept across the quiet street towards a house that felt more familiar and safe. It didn’t matter that all of the houses more or less looked the same, what mattered was what lay inside this one, that made it different. The lights weren’t on but you administered a hesitant knock, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth while an anxious crease formed between your brows.

No answer.

You waited a beat before trying again, knocking a bit firmer. The crisp air was chilly, sending a shiver up your spine despite the thick sweater and having wrapped the too-long sleeves over your knuckles to mimic mittens. Your overactive mind started to wonder if you should bother him at this hour, it was indeed very late and he very well could be asleep. Holding the plush in your hands a bit closer, you felt the small flicker of hope in your chest go out after no inference of an answer appeared in the dark windows of the home. Maybe you should go back to your house, even if the idea of doing so churned your insides. Releasing a defeated sigh through your nose, you had turned and started back down the steps of the wooden porch when a small click sounded behind and an all too familiar voice rasped your name.

“What’s wrong…?”

Your head whirls, meeting groggy sea-green irises with eyelids dragged down by sleep. The male’s hair was tousled more than usual, clear evidence he’d been dozing off before your interruption. “I-I’m sorry, I just- my house was too uhm… a-and-“ your stumbling sentences trail off as your cheeks flush, ears burning red as your gaze falls to your socks.

“C’mere Darling,”

The sleepy drawl in the victor’s voice was enough to shut your mouth and set your legs moving to melt into his warm embrace. “mm sorry Finn,” you murmur into his chest as strong arms wrap around your shoulders and waist. A comforting weight rests on your head from Finnick’s chin and the vibrations of his voice are felt against your cheek on his shoulder. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. Let’s get inside,”

You simply nod, allowing him to lead you in, with your fingers gently interlaced. The calluses on his hands from seafaring and training with his trident were rough, but you didn’t mind. Finnick was always gentle in his touches, careful not to startle or press too harshly. There were few people you allowed to touch you after the traumatic events of your past, and combined with Finnick’s own touch aversions the two of you found peace in the gentleness of each other’s company.

You’re led upstairs into Finnick’s bedroom, his hand never leaving yours while guiding you over to the bed. The two of you comfortably settled beneath the covers as he pulled you close, your head resting on his chest listening to the steady cadence of his heartbeat, while soft featherlight touches drew lazy circles on the bare plush of your thigh hooked over his hip with calloused fingertips. Finnick’s other arm lay under your head, fingers traveling over the buzzed scruff at the nape of your neck and threading through the longer, soft and fluffy mess atop your head. He didn’t mind your shorter hair, rather enjoying playfully ruffling it every chance got and the way you melted into the touch when he threaded his fingers through it.

A content hum emits from your chest as the two of you tangle together in a pleasant embrace. “Home too scary again?” Finnick whispers into your hair. The dim lighting in the room from his bedside lamp gave everything a soft, golden glow that invited comfort and stability to your aching chest. “Yea…” you meekly respond, meeting those sea-green eyes and only finding compassion mixing with hints of worry. A small smile crosses the victor’s lips, dimples pressing into tanned cheeks, as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “s’okay Darling, I’ve got you, you’re safe here.”

You can’t help melting further into the male’s touch. Another content hum leaving your lips as you press ever closer to his chest. The warmth all but lulls you into a gentle sleep, Finnick’s ministrations through your hair adding to the welcome comfort. “m’ love you,” You murmur, words smothered by sleep and your cheek pressing to the male’s tanned chest. You felt safe again, perfectly content and relaxed in the victor’s arms, his almonds and honey aroma soaking into your senses in a pleasant warmth that had you nuzzling closer to his chest.

“I love you more Darling ~”

Finnick’s voice rumbles against your cheek through his chest, and he gives a gentle, reassuring squeeze to your thigh before the two of you settle into a comforting slumber.

It felt good to be home with him, to be safe, and cared for, and loved.

“m’ love you most,”

318 notes · View notes

mittenlady · 2 months

Text

i have made a series for all my klavquill fics… if u even care…

#klavquill #ace attorney #fanfic #ao3 #ace attorney fanfic #making a proper post for this series in lieu of any caya updates becuz i am working so sooaooaooosooo hard . and i am writing ch 20 #and also now there’s 29 chapters. which actually is because i underestimated how important turnabout corner is for Klavier #also vongole is symbolic.#will probably end up having more than 29 chapters once i start the DD portion of the fic WOW AWESOME but it’s ok. sigh #anyway.#mitten lady writing things

5 notes · View notes

throneofsapphics · 5 months

Text

old faces, part six

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret.

Warnings: mentions of death, drinking

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: here we go! I’m curious, would y’all prefer short chapters and more frequent updates? or keeping them around the same lengths?

series masterlist

Three weeks passed since the two of you left for Caraverre for the last time, and today they received the letter telling them you’d arrive a week from now. The month was spent eagerly awaiting your arrival.

You’d written a post note;

Ceri found a kitten, and she’s coming with us. I asked if she was certain about keeping her, and was hissed at twice.

“You’ll need to make a new friend,” she told Fleetfoot, currently dozing at her feet. He was about ten years old now, and not quite slowing down, but not as energetic as he was several years ago. Lazily lifting his head, he opened one eye, before laying back down, tucking his head between his paws. He didn’t have the best track record with cats, but hopefully the new kitten would be an exception. Or at least confident enough to stand up for herself.

“Another friend?” Rowan asked, door closing behind him. She handed him the letter.

“A cat,” he looked at Fleetfoot, then at her.

Aelin shrugged, “she’ll keep the mice away.”

“When she’s here,” he pointed out.

“Wherever she is.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Preemptively, they’d looked into a few different places the two of you could live - even if they hated every second of it. If they could at least sniff out the safest areas, they’d feel a bit better. Then, just make some subtle nudges. Would you let them participate in house hunting?

“How long do we have to stay at the castle?”

“Until we find a home.”

“When will that be?”

“After we find one.”

A groan of frustration, “How long does that take?”

“It could be days or weeks.”

She didn’t look pleased with the answer, but that was the truth. As far as homes went, you’d be relatively picky. Maybe a tad more than relatively. There was a running list in your mind.

High exposure to magic in the past.

Enough space for Ceri to have her chickens, not enough space for a Wyvern.

Walking distance from the city.

The criteria was high, but you hoped something would come around quickly. You were eager to create a home base in Orynth, to establish a safe place, a place that belonged to both of you. A castle could be a home, you supposed, but not for you. You’d never feel like you belonged there.

You meant what you said to Fenrys. You were never born to live in a castle, and as of now, you had no desire to. That’s something you couldn’t picture changing over the years.

Another thing you didn’t expect was Ceri being this adamant against living in the castle.

Scanning the cramped interior of the carriage, you saw Ceri still wrapped up in another dragon book - but her eyes were starting to droop. You let a small smile curve on your face, gazing out the frost-covered window. A few more hours, and you’d be passing the gates of Orynth.

Breathe, you reminded yourself, and watched as your breath condensed in front of you. Gods it was cold, both of you bundled up as much as you could. Still, better than being outside.

A soft snore, and Ceri was sleeping, body laid out across the bench, mitten covered hands still wrapped around the book, now clutched to her chest. It was a miracle she could read with those on. Quietly standing, you lifted the bench beneath you, dragging out a warm quilt, and tucking it around her shoulders. It’s likely she’d sleep all the way to the gates, if not to the castle door.

Even with the relative safety, you never slept on your trips if you could help it, catching just a few hours as needed. A small shield covered the cabin the entire journey, and after the driver said they were comfortable with the magic, you let it cover them as well. At least it managed to keep out some of the cold.

Soon enough, you passed through the city gates, then - the Castle loomed ahead of you. The carriage halted in front of the gates, a guard peered in through the window shooting a smile your way and waving you inside without another question.

You’d met him the last time you were here, and wished you’d at least remembered his name. You made a note to ask later. You were reluctant to wake Ceri, with her looking so peaceful, but you did, gently squeezing her shoulder.

“We’re here.”

She perked up, throwing the blanket off her, face pressed against the window. One hand swiped away the condensation, wiping again as her breath fogged the window. She wasn’t this excited earlier, pestering you about how long you’d have to be here. It was easy to figure out why, peeking over her to get your own look out the window. Three of her friends were waiting there, a good distance away from Rowan and Aelin, but you could spot them.

Your heart warmed.

“Make sure you at least say hello to your father,” you reminded her. She sent you an offended look, and you only raised your brows.

Rowan watched as Ceri jumped out of the carriage, her gaze going to his right. He knew exactly who was waiting for her over there. But, you shot her another look, and instead she sprinted right to you and Aelin, barreling into him.

He’d gotten used to that, to her throwing her entire body weight into him. The first time it caught him off guard. She was stronger than any ten year old had a right to be. He shouldn’t have been surprised, you used to do that when they met up, flinging yourself into his arms.

At a slower pace, you followed behind her.

Ceri hugged Aelin, and bounced on her feet, eyes darting behind them. Where he knew three other children were waiting, a respectful distance away.

“Go say hello to your friends,” he told her and she shot off without another word.

Aelin wrapped you into a warm hug, squeezing until you let out an oof, complaining you couldn’t breathe.

You stiffened as Rowan wrapped his own arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side. Had he never done that? It felt .. natural, he almost released you - momentary panic setting in that he might’ve made you feel uncomfortable, but you wrapped your arm around his waist, giving a quick squeeze back before stepping away. Nothing seemed tense or on edge, in fact you still looked perfectly relaxed. Thank the Gods.

Aelin linked her arm through yours, talking about the book you’d mentioned in your most recent letter. As soon as you scribbled in a line about it, that Aelin might like it, she set out to find it. Three bookstores in Orynth later, Aelin had located it and devoured it in two days.

Gods, he’d even found her reading it in the bath.

“I should send this to Dorian,” she announced. After closing the book, in a daze for ten minutes before she finally spoke. Rowan learned the hard way not to interrupt that phase.

“A trashy romance novel?”

“It is not,” Aelin hissed.

“So I didn’t find you in the bath …” Wind suffocated the fiery dagger thrown his way.

“Scandalizing the King of Adarlan is always amusing.”

“Does he even read them?”

Aelin shrugged.

Aelin and Rowan weren’t quite as subtle as they thought they were. They’d obviously done some research and snooping on houses before the two of you arrived, and you found it endearing and helpful.

“What do you think about this area?” Aelin traced her finger over a spot on the map.

“I haven’t exactly seen it,” you shot her a smile. “Tell me about it.”

A moment of shock, but she did tell you everything she knew. Neighbors close enough you could vaguely see them, but not hear them. That’s a plus in your book. Most of the surrounding neighbors already planted a few gardens. A few houses were up for sale, the owners eager to get rid of them. Apparently there’d been a big push to move into the city, into the hustle of people. It’s still close enough to the city, within walking distance of a few schools.

You noticed that although it’s on the outskirts of Orynth, it’s located closer to the castle. It makes sense, considering Ceri will still be spending plenty of time there.

“We should go take a look around.”

Aelin’s eyes lit up. You liked that.

“Tomorrow?” She offered.

“Tomorrow.”

“Are we inviting Rowan?”

That, you didn’t know how to answer. “I’ll leave it up to your discretion.”

Turquoise eyes fixed on you, and it took everything not to break her stare. “A girls trip sounds nice.” You tried not to let out a huge sigh of relief. “Besides, he’ll likely terrify everyone we come across.”

You offered a half-smile, your sentiments were the same. That might be pushing a line. Lines you were very careful to balance. Gods, you’d practically made neutrality an art form over the years.

You bundled up, pushing a pair of mittens into a protesting Ceri’s hands.

“Do you want frostbite?” You kept the exasperation out of your voice. She snatched them from you, shoving them onto her hands, as you wound a scarf around her neck. It wasn’t actively snowing, but Terrasen winters were brutal. A grinning Aelin waited for you just past the castle doors. The two of you each linked one of Ceri’s arms. A good strategy to keep her from sprinting off.

She led you through the city, you’d hit the sweet spot in the morning - less people on the streets, less to gawk and stare, and she knew every back road and alley. It might take you a while to get used to the city, considering none of the roads made any sense. Scratch that, it would. They all lead in nonsensical directions, sometimes looping back on each other.

“I’ll need a map for a few weeks,” you commented.

“I’ll get one for you.” Aelin grinned, leading you through the city gate, and to the right, tracing back along the wall. You figured it had been a twenty minute walk so far, and sure enough five minutes later the small houses began to grow, and Ceri began bouncing.

A few for sale signs, and you opened your senses - looking for spots of residual magic. Where some magic wielders might have lived for a while. The area was brimming. Beautiful and ancient.

This was as good of a time as any for a lesson.

“Ceri,” you caught her attention. The two of you had let her go, making her promise to stay within ten paces. She stopped and turned, bright green eyes staring at you, before bounding back towards you. “See what you can feel.”

Her eyes squeezed shut. “Eyes open.”

She scowled, but listened. It was a crutch, and although you let it help at first, you knew she didn’t need it anymore. Her eyes scanned the perimeter, fingers wiggling beneath the mittens.

“A lot of magic. Old.”

“What else?” A long pause, but you waited. Aelin was silent beside you, watching curiously. You kept your focus on Ceri.

“It’s mostly from humans.” She was looking back at the various fields, now overgrown with grasses. Farmers used to live here, in masses.

“Good,” you grinned at her. She looked nearly identical to Rowan, but that was your mother’s grin on her face. Ceri led the way this time, spotting the houses with “for sale” signs.

You could tell Aelin was brimming with questions, so you started. “It’s the first thing I learned as well.”

“Sensing magic?”

You hummed.

“Is there a big difference between Human and Fae magic?”

“It’s subtle,” you admitted. “But it’s a good thing to know.” To know who you’re facing.

“How does your magic work?” She probed.

“I have the basic shielding, myself and others,” that was the easy part to explain. “I use magic to put … intention into different materials,” you huffed a laugh. It always sounds ridiculous when you put it like that. In reality, it’s a bit more complex than that, but that’s the easiest way to describe it.

“It lets you sense other magic.”

“Most of us can,” you countered.

“But more than others.”

“I haven’t had a chance to compare,” it’s true, plus you had no desire to. Few knew the extent of your magic, and most of them were dead. You preferred it that way.

“Intention,” she murmured - thinking aloud. “Like that dagger?”

“I didn’t create it,” you said, slipping into neutrality, hand slowly drifting over your cheek. You avoided looking at her.

“Is there something else different about it?”

Yes, but nothing that has to be said. Still, this was an opportunity for you to show you trust her. Trust, of course, has to be earned, but giving a small show of it - even just providing a bit of extra information like this, could make a difference in the future. A small thread tugged at you, encouraging you to share. The Goddess who’d always guided you. Listening was the only option.

“That particular one was created by an ancestor of mine. I don’t know who. Those daggers are more common than you’d think, most don’t know what they are. Usually intended for … ritual magic, tattooing, scarring,” you still couldn’t meet her gaze. “They used to be common practice. I don’t know how that male got that specific one, and it had worried you more than you cared to admit. But he was dead, they were destroyed. “It’s an object a collector probably would’ve loved.”

“Are there a lot of those in circulation?”

“Two less now,” you said without thinking, wincing before clearing your throat. “Made by my family? Very few.” Five were made actually, and you knew where one was, but the other two were still lost. The next part you hesitated, but one extra tidbit couldn’t hurt. “It’s not exactly illegal to create them on the Southern Continent, but highly frowned upon.”

“Is that why you destroyed them?”

“No,” you couldn’t lie to her. Silence radiated between the two of you, her surprise palpable. Aelin was waiting, waiting to see if you’d keep speaking. That wall started to surge, to form itself around your mind, to block, block, block, but this time you pushed back against it, a firm hand lowering it. Not to the ground, but so you could see past it. Finally, you looked at her. No judgment, just curiosity.

“You don’t have to share, if you don’t want to.”

Did you want to? Not particularly, but that stupid little thread tugged again. Mentally, you muttered a sorry at calling it stupid.

“That one was special. It scars as intended, yes, but any blood it encounters … if the victim has magic, some of it will transfer inside of the blade. Just a trace, nothing someone would miss, but enough to have other uses.”

You’d had too much time to think about it, to think on what it could mean. If someone had a dagger with your magic, even a hint of it … a weapon with the ability to throw magic into other objects? It doesn’t limit itself either, it would’ve kept on building the more victims it crossed. If the wielder knew how to use it correctly, they could potentially use it to throw someone elses magic into another person. One of your family’s daggers, objects missing for too long, thrown into circulation just as a large upheaval occurred. Just as everything changed again. It’s not something that could be completely ignored, even from Terrasen. But, some things were your burden to carry. Consequences passed through time and generations.

“Good you destroyed them,” Aelin said quietly. A glance at her, and you knew her mind went the same way yours did.

“They were originally used for healing,” you felt the need to defend your family’s legacy. You didn’t want to give the impression that they’d created an object with the intention for harm.

“Sounds like it could’ve been a great tool.”

“It was, for some time.”

Gods, you were sharing too much now. Ceri saved the day, bounding back towards you and pointing to the house.

“It’s perfect.”

Not huge, but not small. From the outside, everything looked fine. Glancing at the price, you knew there had to be a catch. A bit of fixing up, you could handle. But if the roof was about to fall down? That would be a no.

You looked underneath the price, squinting your eyes. To a good home.

An older male ambled out, spying the three of you eyeing it.

As he led you through the house, you got the sense you were being interviewed, and answered all of his questions honestly, explaining what you were looking for in a home.

“What do you want it to become?”

Aelin looked at you from the corner of her eyes, but the male’s keen gaze, piercing brown eyes, were fixed on you.

“A home for my daughter and I,” Ceri clutched your hand tighter, glancing between you and the other male. “Somewhere her friends can visit,” you squeezed her hands, “and relax.”

“Have a lot of friends, do you?”

Ceri nodded, and started rambling about the things they’d done yesterday. He listened patiently, commenting in all of the right places, and you could tell Ceri was taken with him. He did have a grandfatherly aspect to him.

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “There’s some mice sometimes, you’ll need a cat.”

“We have one,” Ceri piped.

“That’s perfect then,” he patted her shoulder. “It’s yours if you want it,” he looked up to you. Now, three pairs of eyes were on you.

“We’d be honored.”

The words felt … right. You’d learned the home had been in his family for generations, but he was the last of them. He didn’t need to tell you what happened to his family, but he said he’d been the last occupant of the home, and would be moving into the city with a friend.

“Are they a special friend?”

“Ceri,” you hissed.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled, looking at you with a hint of amusement. You replied with an apologetic grimace. “All friends are special.”

You squeezed your daughter's hand, telling her now is not the time. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut. She’s at the age where a filter is a foreign concept to her, and any question seems appropriate.

Turn around would take about ten days. He’d left you all of the furniture, all of the kitchen ware, nearly everything, even a collection of what looked to be ancient books. It almost seemed too good to be true … but, this time, an instinct told you to accept something good happened. That it happened without a greater cost. That you were worthy of good things.

Aelin’s mind had wandered during the rest of your ‘girls trip.’ She half paid attention to the tour and conversations, enough so she knew what was going on if asked a question. But, her mind drifted to what you told her. She’d watched as you froze up, as you hesitated, but then told her anyway. As you showed trust in her. Trust with things you probably hadn’t told another person. There was still more to the story, but when she saw how uncomfortable you grew, common sense told her pushing wasn’t worth any potential knowledge she might acquire.

She was correct that someone from your bloodline created it. First the admission of the type of dagger, then how the ones your family created were different. Something a collector would’ve loved.

They were used for healing at some point, then stolen. At least that was what she picked up on. Her mind trailed to why you would’ve destroyed them, destroyed a family heirloom. Blood. Magic. Your magic - imbuing.

Victim’s magic store itself. Enough to have other uses.

Very few. Two less. There’s still more. And you don’t know where they are, or she has a feeling you would’ve tracked them down by now. Aelin had a decent read on you at this point, and she’s well aware you wouldn’t let something like that exist in the world.

Could those daggers have a history? Could she find mentions of them somewhere? You didn’t say relative, you said ancestor.

She needed to talk to Rowan.

Rowan could tell Aelin was nearly bursting at the seams with something. She waited until it was the two of them, you and Ceri already off to bed, before sharing.

He sat on the new wealth of information Aelin had learned. Moreover, he was shocked you’d shared all of that. It was more than you would’ve told him … would’ve told him in the past. There’s other reasons why you wouldn’t have shared that with him before. Still, if he’d asked the question would you have answered? A useless question, considering he wouldn’t ask you. He recognized you wouldn’t have told Aelin this if you didn’t expect he’d hear of it as well.

It wasn’t meant to be hidden from him, just to be heard second hand. It felt like a consolation prize.

“Is she worried about it?” He finally said, his pause giving the impression he was thinking the information over.

“Not excessively,” she shifted, stretching her legs out over his lap. Absentmindedly, thumb ran circles into her calf, loosening the tense muscles. A small purr left her chest. She was silent, contemplative, for a few moments. “There’s more to it. I know there is.”

“Aelin,” he paused his movements, catching her eyes, hoping to tell her not to dig into it. Based on the look in her eyes, that wouldn’t be a deterrent. “At least don’t push her. Let her come to you. It’s sensitive family history you’re digging into.”

At least that’s the impression he got. Aelin described how you seemed reluctant, emphasizing how she didn’t pry much. Speaking about your family had always been difficult for you, one of the topics you were most evasive about, and he doubted that changed too much over the years.

“I know.”

For the first few days, you struggled to figure out how to fill your time.

Last time you’d been here, everyone was snowed in for the majority of the time, but now there weren’t any restrictions or requirements to stay in the castle. Last time, your stay in Orynth felt temporary, even with the knowledge you’d be returning. It was also the first storm of the year, and an early one. Now you’d just hit december. Meaning Yulemas was quickly approaching. Peak season for you, to sell any kind of little crafts, but you didn’t have a space to work yet and working out of the castle didn’t feel right to you.

In the mornings and early afternoons, Ceri had lessons with the rest of her friends and a few teachers from the castle, so you took it on yourself to walk through the city, trying to memorize each street and back alley. That was a new kind of torture for you. Going alone made your explorations much longer, but it was important you learned how to find your way through without help, to not rely on anyone - besides the little map now becoming worn down and creased with how frequent you referenced it.

Making your way back to the main square, the jingling of bells and a few festive tunes reached you first.

A market.

Evergreen wreaths lined the streets, accented by bows, pinecones, and all sorts of little decorations. Stalls and stalls of vendors selling their wares, all of them braving the cold. A few had flasks on their hips, ones they took a few sips from time to time. You smiled to yourself, that’s certainly a way to help keep the chill out.

As it happens, you came across a woman selling little carvings, a list of different types propped up on her table. ‘Enchanted,’ had a line crossed through it. She wasn’t particularly busy, so you decided to be nosy.

“Enchanted ones already sold?”

She smiled ruefully, “aye, the normal provider’s temporarily out of business, don’t know when they’ll be back.” You realized she might be referencing you. “A female from Antica, now based in Terrasen, not sure where.”

“Are there others?”

Her mouth pressed into a tight line. “Not particularly good ones.”

“Out of those too?” Gods, you really were being nosy, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“If they don’t feel right or genuine, I try not to sell them. I like the ones that already have a bit of magic in ‘em.” She narrowed her eyes at another stall across the way. You nodded, and she seemed in the mood to share today. “The seller’s out of Antica, don’t know how she got here, but it’s lowered the price.” She was speaking of you.

“The price?”

“I used to import.”

“Oh.”

Maybe you should’ve kept track of where some of your work ended up.

“I try to keep the prices fair,” she sighed and leaned back in her seat, balancing it on two legs. “For the ones who look like they need it.” That, you could appreciate. “Makes me sell out quicker.”

You hummed, maybe you could make a few before the seasons up. “I heard a rumor,” you started hesitantly, and her head tilted, eyes curious. “That she’ll be back in business, have something ready about a week before Yulemas.”

Oh, you had her attention now. “Do you know her?”

A small nod. “You don’t?”

A shake of her head, but you’d caught her attention. “Always dealt with someone in the middle. A bit annoying,” you tried not to wince, “but safer for her that way, I can understand.”

“I can put you in touch.” It can’t be that hard to pretend you’re actually the one in the middle.

“Really?” She looked skeptical, and for good reason.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small trinket. A small amulet, one of the last things made before you left Caraverre, and a design you hadn’t used before, but if she’s sold some of your things, she should recognize it as genuine. Carefully, you handed it to her, watching as she examined, eyes squinting to look at the tiny carvings.

“She won’t have much stock, and not til week or so before the holiday, but I can put you in touch and see what she has.”

“Even a few would make a difference,” she reached out and handed it back to you, gingerly. Almost like she was holding a treasure.

“Keep that one for yourself. I’ll come back and let you know.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

Based on your smile, and the way she undid the clasp, tucking the small necklace inside her coat, you knew she would. Keep it and not sell it. You’d need to wait a few more days before returning, maybe even up to a week. Just to give the impression you actually were someone in the middle.

Feeling in high spirits, a good deed done for the day, you headed back to the castle, hoping there would only be a few wrong turns this time.

Aelin reached an arm around pulling you into her side, a hug of sorts, but her arm lingered. Naturally, your head dropping to her shoulder. She squeezed further, and didn’t move. Aelin tugged you closer. Rowan didn’t look uncomfortable when you stole a look at him. In fact something like a smile ghosted across his face. You realized how much you’d missed touch and affection. Platonic touch and affection, just among friends. Reya had always been a big hugger, the two of you cuddling up next to each other on the couch.

Something you’d never even thought might be necessary. But now that it was here … you found yourself clinging to it like a lifeline. Touch starved enough that even the smallest affection feels like a blessing, like a gift from the gods.

Aelin sighed, and you relaxed your body further, letting the wine send you loosen you, giving yourself permission to feel this. To bask in this momentary peace.

“You’re much better at this than Rowan.” An indignant huff from the offended male. “Take notes,” Aelin teased him, drawing a laugh from you and a half-hearted glare from the other male.

“And you’ve had a lot of wine,” you countered Aelin, but didn’t move. She’d initiated it … and if she felt uncomfortable, you’d let her move away. Maybe you should, maybe this is crossing some invisible line the wine haze is keeping you from recognizing, but it felt so right.

“Am I a better cuddler than Fenrys?”

This time, you did laugh. Aelin is definitely competitive. “I wouldn’t know.”

She seemed pleased, and matter of fact, so did Rowan. You’re imagining it, for certain. In the morning you’d swear he never looked like that. Swear it was a figment of your imagination.

As much as Fenrys made jokes about it, this hadn’t happened with him. Right now, you didn’t want it to, maybe you wanted to claim her as your official cuddle-friend. It’s the wine. Aelin wasn’t yours to claim, not in any way. Besides, you don’t believe in belonging to others. You belong to yourself, and that’s it. That’s the way it’s always been, and how it will always be.

A part of you still lingered, still wondered what it would be like to have a mate. To forge a bond so deep, such a permanent and everlasting connection, one that could cross worlds and eternity, to love and be loved so deeply that separation was unbearable - that separation would tear your soul into tiny bits.

Not the love of a mother and daughter, the love of two people meant to bind their souls together. Meant to claim each other equally.

Could a bond like that be forged, or was it some kind of gift? Given just to those deemed worthy of it?

It’s the wine.

The odds are you’ll never know, and there’s no use in wasting time imagining it.

taglist: @holb32 @moonlightttfae @cassianswh0reeee @reidishh @fussel9913 @abbyrose13 @brandywineeeee @acourtofbatboydreams (sorry it didn't let me tag everyone! you can comment on this or any others if you want to be added!

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #throne of glass fic #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #throne of glass x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n

152 notes · View notes

staywhore · 4 months

Text

countdown to midnight

felix x reader

word count: 2009

genre: smut with a hint of angst?! (my first attempt so be nice)

warnings: friends to lovers, hot hot hot takeout sesh, biting, slight angst if you can call it that.

an: sorry there's not a lot here! this is part one of two so look forward to the next update to see what happens (eye emoji) I hope everyone had an amazing new year! I love you all, thank you so much for supporting me this past year despite my hiatus.

taglist: @mingigoo @ravenjoongie @wickeddarkness-place @whatudowhennooneseesyou @teezers99 @mirror-juliet

new years confession part one click here for part two

You ducked fast as a mis-shapen ball of snow is hurled towards your head. A pang of adrenalin strikes right through your heart despite the fact that there now is a small smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. You clutch the ball of snow in your beige mitten and prepare to throw it back at your attacker. Risking a quick look you see that he has his back turned to you and you take your chance to make your move. You quickly stand and throw the snowball with as much force as you can muster to ensure it makes its mark. Watching as the non lethal projectile flies across the imagined battlefield, you see as it connects with the neck of your blonde attacker. His head moves forward with impact, causing him to look as though he’s bowing.

He turns to you with a shocked look on your face. The laughter fills your mind until you can’t help but fold as it erupts from you. With tears now in your eyes and the look on his face on loop in your mind, you don’t notice that the man is now running towards you. You look up right before he makes contact with you. His arms wrapping around your waist lifting you up slightly before you feel yourself falling backwards. You can’t help but let out a little scream at the feeling of falling. He tackles you into a pile of snow that previously was your attempt at a snowman before the snowball fight ensued.

“How does it feel to lose to a girl?” You say a little out of breath from the adrenalin still pumping rapidly throughout your body. You can’t help but smile as you look up and see a matching grin paired with that oh-so-familiar sparkle of mischief in his deep brown eyes. The former flicks back and forth a few times from your eyes to your mouth. He just lets out a short throaty laugh as a response.

“Are you going to let me get up?” You say, starting to feel the weight of his stare. His hand reaches out and he brushes some snowflakes that are collecting on your eyelashes.

Felix has been your friend for three years now. You’ve stayed friends through drunken calls, colds, and breakups. Of course you’ve noticed his impeccable beauty. His deep brown eyes that glow in the sunlight giving the illusion of having dark chocolate for irises. The freckles that are splattered across his nose, cheeks, and a few on his forehead; it’s as if an artist took his brush and placed each one specifically. His full pink lips that you have only ever seen turned down in frustration or anger a handful of times. He is the image of beauty to you. Yet in these past two, nearly three, years you never let your feelings manifest into anything stronger. You’ve seen the girls he has dated, you look nothing like them. So you keep your love for him platonic, and lock up anything less deep within your heart.

His gentle touch threatens to bring your bubbling feelings to the surface. The soft material of his gloved fingers moved from your closed eyes onto your cheeks, that are no longer flushed because of the cold. Sometimes you think he’s looking at you as more than a friend, but the thought leaves you quickly. Despite what happened a year ago.

“I’m quite comfortable actually.” The corner of his lips turn up in challenge to your question.

It was New Years Eve, everyone was drinking and having a good time playing games and sharing stories. Felix had not left you alone for the entirety of the evening, not that that was unusual. Usually you stick to each other’s side, but something was different. If you stepped out of arm's reach of him you could feel his stare following you throughout the apartment. Eventually you decided to ask what the fuck is up.

You pulled him off to one of the two bathrooms in yours and your friends shared apartment. It just happened to be the smaller of the two, just enough room for a sink, toilet, and a small shower encased by frosted glass. Not totally realizing that we are now nearly chest to chest as you look up to him to confront him.

“What’s wrong with you tonight?” You say a little too loud, noting to lower your volume from now on.

“Nothing’s wrong y/n.” He says without looking at you. Seemingly focused on a very interesting spot on the wall no doubt.

“Bull shit Felix.” Attempting to cross your arms at your chest, but can’t successfully without touching him. It feels weird to touch him tonight. You can’t figure out why. “You have been acting strange all evening.” You settle with placing your hands on your hips.

After a few beats of silence Felix finally looks at you. He seems to be searching for something in your face. His chocolate eyes flicking to the different parts of your face. An unspoken emotion hanging in the air between the two of us. Maybe it’s the seclusion, or maybe it’s the drinks finally working their way into your system, but tonight he looks different. Your eyes dared a look at his lips, quickly looking back up to his eyes. His pupils dilated.

“Felix..” Now he looked at your lips as you spoke, but he wasn’t quick to look away like you were. He leaned forward causing you to step back hitting the wall. “What is wr-” He cuts you off with a finger shushing your lips.

“Y/n, I know you feel it two.” You could feel yourself pale.

“I don’t know what you are talking about Felix.”

“I know this is sudden y/n, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that it’s new years eve, but I want to kiss you tonight.. I want you and I don’t wanna hide it anymore.” His hands found their way to your face, tilting it back slightly. Your mouth was suddenly dry and eyes wide at the confession.

“But.. I- I didn’t think I was your type?” You barely manage to get your words out.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life y/n.” Past the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears you can hear your friends call for you.

“It’s nearly midnight.” Your response to his second confession.

“I know y/n.” He continues to stare down at you. Trapping you against the cool wall and his hard body. “I’d like to kiss you if you’ll let me.”

Mind racing. You swear he could hear your heart beating. Your eyes roamed over his face, looking for any sign of deception. You could hear your friends starting their count down into the new year.

"10"

"9"

"8"

"7"

"6"

"5"

"4"

"3"

“Kiss me felix.” His lips crashed onto yours as your friends finished counting down, and cheered as they rang the new year in. Hands found their way into your hair, pulling slightly, causing you to gasp. He took his chance to kiss you deeper. Felix consumed you wholly. His tongue explored your mouth as he continued to deepen the kiss. His hands roaming further down your body. They moved from your hair to your neck, then shoulders, and smoothed down your back softly causing you to shiver. Your own found their way to his shaggy blonde hair.

Finally snapping from your stupor you tug at his locks softly. He moans into your mouth, sending a bolt of arousal directly to your core. So you pull harder. This time he growls as his grip on your ass tightens. He spins the two of you around so your back is now to the sink, lifting you, you now are sitting on the lip of the sink; wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. His hand slid from your ass to your waist, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. A silent request for permission, you respond by taking your nails to his broad shoulders and running them along his clothed skin. Cool fingertips slid up your skin sending goosebumps to your arms. The further north his hands went, the deeper your nails dug into his shoulders.

He breaks away from the kiss to look into your eyes. His own half lidded with arousal looking at your lips that are no doubt plumped and a deeper shade of pink from the kiss. He lets out a deep breath before he leans in to kiss you gently. Staring at your lips then going to your nose and forehead. Moving to your neck where he places pepperings of kisses that once again cause you to shiver. All while his fingers are running along your rib cage, and just under the fabric of your bra. As his hands move up taking the silky material of your shirt with him he bites your earlobe.

Pulling your shirt over your head he leans back slightly to take a full look at you. Chest heaving and knuckles gone white from the grip you have on the sink. One hand goes to your neck to pull you back into a deep kiss. His lips run down your neck this time he’s not so gentle. He leaves bite marks in his wake. Each time he sucks your skin you let out a little moan, and the next time he sucks a little harder. He does the same thing to your chest. Teasing you as he plays with the edge of our bra, not quite going underneath the fabric.

“Please Felix.” You say breathlessly. He obeys and reaches behind to unhook your bra. The feel of it sliding against your skin only heightens your arousal. Without hesitation he takes one of your nipples into your mouth and sucks it. It was a struggle to not scream at the sensation.

“F-felix.. Fuck.” You moan as he releases the first with a pop and moves to the second. Your hands find their way to his head once more, tugging as he moans around your breast. Your abs begin to burn trying to keep you balanced on the ledge. Releasing the second with a pop he looks up at you, this time with fire in his eyes.

“Y/n…” Right before he can say anything else the handle to the door jiggles, shortly followed by a pounding fist.

“Hey open up! I gotta piss.” Someone who sounds an awful lot like a drunken changbin shouts from the other side of the door. Heat instantly rushes to your face as you push Felix off of you and quickly try to make yourself decent.

“Be right out.” You stammer, frantically searching for your shirt. Seriously, where did that thing go in such a small space! Only stopping when Felix's hands cup your face once more, causing you to look up at him. He looked like he had a lot to say, but he leaned in to kiss you. Flinching back not wanting to seem any more suspicious than you probably already have to the party, you regretted it immediately. The hurt that flashed across his beautiful features stung you.

“Felix.. I didn’t-” He turned away from you picking up your shirt and handed it to you, his silence was deadly. He waited until you readied yourself, tucking you behind him while he opened the door.

Feeling awkward and embarrassed you hid out in your room until the last of your party guests left, feigning a headache. Curled up in your bed scrolling through your phone, when Felix’s name pops onto your screen.

[sorry for tonight y/n] Another ding sounds

[maybe we should just stay friends, go back to the way things were before tonight] it’s almost as if a knife went straight through your heart. With tears in your eyes you begin to reply, but you can’t find any words so you just turn your phone over and quietly cry yourself to sleep.

#skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #felix x reader #felix smut #staywhore

128 notes · View notes