#First time writing something like this so hopefully I did the topic justice!

[ashtronomyys]

Too Much (+18)

18+ MDNI John "Soap MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley Size difference lovers come get ya'll's juice! Basically just Simon being too big for Johnny and Johnny losing himself on Simon. Hope ya'll enjoy <3

They had been going at it for over an hour now, Simon slowly working Johnny open on the ends of his fingers, pulling all kinds of moans out of the sergeant. He had worked two, then three fingers inside of him, brushing them against his prostate and reveling in the way he arched back against his hand.

"Lt.... c'mon already! I can take it!" Aggravation seeped into Johnny's voice as he egged him on. Simon chuckled to himself.

"Patience, baby. Gotta take it nice and slow," he dragged out the last vowel in tune with the rhythm of his fingers. "We don't want to hurt you now, do we?" He punctuated the question by pressing down on Johnny's insides. The man yelped into the pillow he had fisted under him, another shameless groan getting muffled by the fabric.

"Fucking bastard," he had sighed into the sheets. Simon continued working him open until, finally, his partner relaxed into the sheets. The breaths escaping his chest having slowed down and his back and shoulders finally resting onto the mattress. Ever the impatient man, the lieutenant often found himself having to reign Johnny in, lest he hurt himself in his eagerness. This usually resulted in Simon working him over until he melted into his touch hours into the night. And enduring several complaints along the way.

He reached back for another pump of the lube, most of the bottle's contents already used on the sergeant's hole. As he pulled the thick digits out of him, Simon felt his own dick throb at the sight of Johnny's hairy ass open and clenching at the air, practically begging for something to clamp down on. With Johnny a pliant, open mess under him, Simon finally lined himself up and slowly pushed at his entrance.

The head of his cock was gradually enveloped by the tight warmth, both men openly moaning into the space at the sensation. Simon reached around to hold one of Johnny’s arm behind his back, grabbing and holding onto his hand. He used the ferocity of Johnny's grip to gauge when it became too much for the sergeant. More often than not, he'd become an incoherent mess of cries and whining during this next part.

Now, Johnny wasn't inexperienced by any means. In fact, when flirting between the two had veered further beyond the line of what was deemed appropriate between colleagues, he would proudly purr into Simon's ear about how he'd wrap himself all along Simon's length. The cocky arrogance and lopsided smirk thrown his way would send Simon into a tailspin out on the field.

All that arrogance went out the window though when Johnny, at last, got his hands on Simon's cock. Johnny was a sizeable man in his own right, tall and defined with muscles covering every inch of him. But next to Simon, he nearly looked like a dwarf. Simon TOWERED over him, with just as if not MORE muscle than him. He easily tossed him around on the training field, his hoodies draped over his arms and legs, and his hands completely shrouded his. And the daunting length and girth of his cock sent shivers down Johnny's spine. It took both his hands to wrap around it, left him gasping and chocking when he tried to swallow it, and honestly just did not fit in him yet.

It had been a work in progress trying to get him used to all the length. Johnny kept trying to apologize when they first started, but Simon shushed him every time. He'd damned-well tried his hardest, and he had been such a good, pliant lover with him. Simon was just simply too BIG for Johnny.

Despite that, they'd made good progress so far. The gradual push into him went smoother and smoother each time. Simon's hand kneaded circles into Johnny's hip as he steadily thrust forward. His hand seized every so often and Simon stilled to let him adjust, deep guttural moans escaping Johnny's lips.

They make it to about halfway down his cock before he feels Johnny's hand shoot up to grab his wrist. "Fuck, hold on! Don't--Agh!"

"Y'Alright? Need me to pull out?" Simon freezes, not wanting to add to the sensitivity by moving.

"Nae, nae. Just...--Ah, fuckin' Christ Si." He sits up on all fours, looking back at Simon and lets out a drained laugh. "Ah'm good. Just give me a second."

He gets a hum in response. "Take as much time as you need." A soft grin spreads across Simon's face as he locks eyes with his sergeant. His hair sticks out in various places and there's a light layer of sweat on his forehead. But there's still that bright glint in his eye reserved just for him.

He doesn't dare move, but /fuck/ is it tempting with the way he stares back at him. His breathing evens out and Simon drinks in the view of him leaning back down. Broad, muscled back giving way to the lithe dips of his waist, and coming down to the built, round ass currently clutched onto the better half of him.

He allows his hands to roam over Johnny's body, lets out a low groan as he fondles the tanned flesh. God, even his hands seem to make the man look smaller. Black skeleton gloves nearly able to cover the entire expanse of his ass.

"You're so perfect for me, Johnny." Simon cups his right cheek, slaps down on the meat of it before rubbing the irritated skin. "Why don't you take over for a bit, hm? Show me how much you love riding this cock for me."

It sounds like it's a go if the wanton moan Johnny lets out is anything go by. Simon chuckles as he watches Johnny start to rock back against him, his fist curling under him and finding his own dick to stroke. The hot, slick hole slowly rises to the head before achingly bearing slowly back down on him. His hole strains around the girth, sheathing and locking him into the warm, velvet embrace. They both lose themselves in the sensation as Johnny begins to fervently lose himself on Simon's cock.

"Yeah, that's it love. So good for me..." Simon's groans hit a new pitch when the angle is switched and his head presses along his inner walls. What they may lack when it comes to accommodating his body, Johnny more than a hundred times makes over for in enthusiasm. It doesn't even matter that he can't take the full length right now. He's a man of many skills, and he knows how to make the lieutenant see stars in a matter of minutes regardless.

Besides, he has to admit that part of him finds the thought that he's too much to be so fucking hot. Some perverted part of his brain turned on by the thought that he's breaking Johnny in. Revels in watching the rim of him stretch beyond its limits around his cock, the tears and spit falling down his chin from the exertion of wrapping his lips around him, and the way he leaves him a gaping, open mess afterwards.

And God, does Johnny love it too, evidenced by the way he keeps coming back for more. Spurred on by promises murmured over comms, making it his mission to take him in even further than last time. Nearly hurting himself in his haste. It almost feels like he's corrupting him in a way. Here he is, a bright beacon of joy and sunshine to everyone he comes across. He lights up any room he walks in with his charm and good looks. He could have anybody he wants, find love with anyone more suited for him. And yet here he was, losing his mind with Simon, the Ghost, of all people. Crying and moaning so loudly on a dick far too large for him that anybody walking by in the hallway would hear them. Hear the way his happy-go-lucky sergeant was splitting himself open on just a fraction of his full length.

Simon firmly gripes his waist, hands nearly wrapping all the way around him and carefully bucks forward against his body, testing the waters and gauging his reaction. Immediately, his body shivers underneath him. Simon moves barely an inch more into Johnny and the loud cry he lets out pitches up into a gasp. It takes little to no effort on his part to overwhelm the sergeant and have him crying into the pillow. Simon can't help but feel a sense of pride fill his chest, his ego being stroked by the whines that leave Johnny's lips. He splays his hand out onto Johnny's back and leans over him.

"Fucking hell Johnny, do you hear yourself? Practically broken on only half of me." Simon can feel the deep groan rumble throughout Johnny's chest in response.

He wraps his arms around his front and leans them both back to sit back against his chest, his upper body trapping the sergeant. "Makes me wonder how wrecked you'll sound when I finally get all the way inside you." Simon licks and nips at the curve of his neck and starts thrusting into Johnny.

"Holy Fuuck S-Si," he whimpers. One of Johnny's hand claws at Simon's forearms, the other reaching behind and try to find purchase. His right hand finds Simon's neck and cards through his hair, tugging a fistful of it with every thrust.

"Fuck Lt--so fucking big-Ah!" His voice falters as Simon slides his hand down between his legs, giving him a few playful swirls around the head before starting a rhythmic pace.

"You love it though," he remarks.

"Ahh, yeah I do. Want ye to fucking break me with it." The challenge elicits a possessive growl out of Simon. "Don't tempt me, sergeant."

Said sergeant actually has the gall to look back at him with a brazen stare. "Try me, Lt." There's a fire hidden behind those eyes as he winks and bucks into his grasp.

Goddamn snarky bastard.

Simon fulfills his request by sliding his grip down to his hips and knocking that sly grin on his face off with the drive of his thrust. Johnny began to howl and shout his name as Simon jackhammers as much as he can into him. He braces one palm onto the bed while the other goes back to his now abandoned dick jumping below them. He's unabashedly whining at the continued onslaught, sinfully arching his body towards Simon's touch.

"Taking that cock so--fucking--well for me, Johnny!" Each syllable was punctuated by another slam into him.

"Fuuck Si! I-Ah'--Ah!" The sergeant was becoming more and more of a sniveling mess by the minute. Tears streamed down his face and he had nearly ripped a hole in the bedspread from clawing at it.

Another few minutes of the bombardment and Johnny's head began to loll forward, the man seeming to lose a bit of strength. He had half the mind to stop and check on him, his pace faltering for a moment to give Johnny a breather. "Johnny? You solid?"

It took another bated breath for him to turn and face behind him. Johnny's hair was in a complete disarray, water pooled in his tear ducts, and his blown out pupils were lined with red. He looked like he was in shambles. But yet, he was still able to give a cocky smirk over his shoulder.

"Mhm, hell yeah Lt. Don't want t' stop til ye've finished off inside me," he teased. The sight of the man with his tear-streaked face bucking backwards on his dick was downright obscene. "Wanna feel ye pump yer load inside me."

"Fucking Christ.."

If there was any trepidation left in Simon's body, it was gone now. He picked up a fierce rhythm, pumping unforgivingly while the other man lost it on him. They were unabashed in their chase of ecstasy, letting every moan that rose in them fill the room. Johnny especially was being shameless with the sounds that escaped him, the creaking of the metal bed frame and his shrieks having a competition on who could be the loudest. At the rate he was going, he'd probably wake the whole base up with his shouting and pleas for more.

Not that either of them cared at this point, teetering too far close to the edge to care about anything else other than the friction between them. Simon chases after the feeling, swaying his pelvis to grind down on Johnny's prostate. The unrelenting pressure on that sweet spot finally sends him over the edge, face falling onto the bed and biting down on the pillow. His orgasm causes him to clamp down on Simon, his hole becoming impossibly tighter. It's not long after that he follows suit right behind him. He pushes in as deep as Johnny's body will allow him and rides out the wave after wave of searing pleasure.

It takes them a few minutes of labored breathing before they're ready to move. Johnny's the first to break, gradually getting more antsy and slowly pulling himself up. Simon helps pull himself out, sitting back on his heels to watch the way his spent dick leaves Johnny's hole gaping open. He watches a string of his load steadily spill out of him and drip onto the sheets. Simon grabs a handful of his ass and leans down, lapping up the remainder that continues to fall. The act sends shivers through Johnny's body.

"Alright ye fuckin' horn-dog, ease up," the voice that comes out sounds particularly rough. He languidly rolls over and laughs into the palm of his hand as he looks back at Simon. "So, how far'd we get that time?" he asks. Simon looks down at his half-hard erection and points to where he made it, a shy smirk on his face. His fingers point to a little past the halfway point, just under three quarters of the way down.

Johnny groans out of frustration. "Ah, come on! Tha's ridiculous. What the hell was yer mother feeding you!?" They both break at the outburst, Johnny's face lights up at the way Simon throws back his head in a full body laugh.

"Hey, you did pretty good, Soap! We'll get there someday, we've got plenty a' time."

"Not before ye kill me with that fuckin' thing," he playfully knocks his leg into Simon's side. He reaches for a glass of water on the nightstand while Simon laughs at him, downing most of the water in one go. "Steamin' Jesus Si. Ah'm gonna be walking bow-legged all week!"

The lieutenant just shakes his head, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile as he falls down to straddle the man's side. "Believe you were the one that asked for that. 'Want Ye to break me in' if I'm not mistaken?" Simon plays up the Scottish accent in his mocking tone.

"Awh, shut up and go to sleep ya bampot," the name-calling is emphasized by an elbow to the side. It doesn't hold much strength though, as the Scotsman's eyes are already drooping from exhaustion.

Simon squeezes Johnny into his side, hums with delight as he rests his head on his chest. "Alright, alright, I'll quit teasing you." He presses a kiss to the top of his mohawk. "G'night love." Johnny barely manages to murmur a good night before he's already out cold.

Simon gradually relaxes into the mattress, relishing in the endorphins coursing through his body and gently stroking his lover's back. As fatigue finally begins to overtake him, he reminisces on the whirlwind that is Johnny. Behind closed eyes, he secretly thanks the universe for dropping this mad little ball of trouble into his life.

And he thanks the universe for letting him ruin him time and time again.

....................

#soapghost #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ash writings #Welp #I've officially fallen down the rabbit hole LMAO #First time writing something like this so hopefully I did the topic justice! #I should be back to writing fluff soon I just had to get this out of my system #ghoap

[chlorinecake]

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung smut

[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name. 

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present. 

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow. 

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows. 

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again. 

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her. 

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him. 

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him. 

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her. 

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly. 

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!” 

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it. 

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women. 

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep. 

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls. 

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off. 

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick chapter 4 #john wick x you #john wick 4 #keanu reeves #john wick smut #ochl #my works

[beanibon]

When you have the chance, could you write about vash or wolfwood being jealous of someone flirting with the reader? but instead of mainly writing about how vash/wolfwood being jealous, can it be about when they see the reader's eyes light up & their demeanor completely change once y/n see them? perhaps neither of them have confessed yet, so it's just heavy mutual pining

Of course Anon, thank you for request! I'm personally a huge fan of the jealous trope, I think it's so fun to write for.

So I hope you honestly enjoy! Hopefully I've done your request justice 💜💜

You had been travelling with Roberto and Meryl from the beginning, as their personal photographer for big projects. Once Vash and Wolfwood joined your little musketeer group, you had practically filled your camera's memory card several times with shenigans the group got up to. You'd proudly display the photos, printed in a town the group stopped at, even buying a photo album.

After a week of travelling, the group stopped in a busy town for the weekend. After accommodation was dealt with Meryl suggested the group goes out for drinks at a popular bar just up the road. Roberto agrees instantly, the other two boys eagering agreeing also.

So together, with Meryl joined to you by the hip as you all entered the bar. It was crowded, but not an uncomfortable kind of crowded. You all agreed to take rounds in paying for the drinks, Roberto going first as he took everyone's orders.

Eventually it was your turn to write down everyone's orders diligently, mockingly saluting once you checked over everything was correct before heading over to the bar. Waiting for the bartender, a stranger had struck up a conversation with you. You politely engaged with the topic, admittedly enjoying the strangers story and flirtatious quips. Little did you know you had a pair of eyes burning into the man besides you, gaze never leaving you as you laughed at other joke, oblivious to certain jealous individual.

Vash

Vash isn't the kind of person to opening make others aware of his jealousy, he's usually pretty good at hiding it, though there are exceptions to this.

When he is feeling particularly jealous, he turns into a pouting child. The other's actively catching on that something isn't right with their on the run companion, who's bottom lip is jutted out as he looks your way, almost wishing it was him up their confidently flirting with you.

If he is jealous it'll often be accompanied with feeling self-conscious.

He's known to be a little timid, but when it came to you and hyping himself up to try and confess he always changed the topic suddenly, before running off with some lame excuse. It was a surprise you didn't catch on.

Something about watching someone else slink their way into making you laugh so prettily always made him picture himself rather than some stranger you just met, but he never actually intervened as he understood you were just a friendly person to begin with.

Yet the moment you turned your attention his way, despite probably addressing the entire group, he couldn't help the way his eyes sparkled behind his shades.

His entire body would straighten, an adoring smile present as his cheeks warmed as you offered a tiny wave catching his gaze. One in which he eagerly returned, making Wolfwood scoff besides him and give him a smack upside his head.

Of course the entire group, besides you know about Vash's one-sided crush, it was obvious in the way he always admired your photography skills. Even sneakily stealing one that he particularly liked of you, which he always ended up getting caught.

After a while of him deflating everytime you turn away, to becoming attentive like puppy who was promised a treat, Wolfwood finally snapped.

"Listen Needle-Noggin, how long are you going to stare at her for? I've had to suffer in the back of that car for days now, watching you embarrass yourself each time y/n accidentally leans against you. Either you fess up, or I'll do it in the most embarrassing way possible that you'll wish you died in that Sand Worm." Vash swallowed, throat suddenly feeling dry as Wolfwood leaned forward, face contorted in a mocking sneer.

Yet no matter how hard Vash tried to mumble out an excuse, his mouth simply did not cooperation, opening and closing as he blinked at the Undertaker.

"He has point, it's honestly becoming insufferable watching you interact with her, and it isn't doing you any good silently observing as people flirt with her. It's downright shameful, not to mention embarrassing." Roberto agreed, pulling out his signature flask as your back and forth with the guy was making the drinks delayed.

Vash shrunk under the old man's words, face red in embarrassment at how obvious he was. It wasn't long until his head was on the table, groaning as he tried to hype himself up for umpteenth time. He had tried so many times to confess, yet his confidence failed him each time, resulting in him stuffing those emotions back down. Now it appeared none of his friends were having it anymore, it was either he confessed, or Wolfwood would make a laughing stock out of him.

"I think imma need some of that," Vash grabbed the flask from Roberto, earning a disgruntled protest from the man as he took a few mouths of the burning liquor. "Here goes nothing."

Standing, Vash shuffles through the crowd, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he approaches. As he gets closer, he hears your laugh and freezes. It's so sweet and beautiful, feeling his hand become clammy as he looks at you, a lump growing in his throat.

"Oh Vash, sorry I was just about to order the drinks." Your voice broke him from his thoughts, offering an awkward chuckle as he apologised for rushing you.

He felt several eyes on him, his friends, the strangers, and now your beautiful gaze, awaiting his answer to a question he hadn't even heard.

"Earth to Vash, you still alive?" You laughed, fingers snapping in front of his face. Vash blinked a few times, cheeks matching his jacket as he looked at you, his heart skipping a beat.

You had the most angelic smile on your face, eyes lighting up as he looked into them. You looked so relaxed in his presence, unlike the polite, professional way you held yourself when conversing with the stranger. And the way you tilted your head at him, it simply made the room spin.

"Y/n. . . I think I. . . I th-think I," Vash wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, he simply couldn't do it, not with this random guy watching in obvious mocking amusement. "I think I want to change my drink order, you wouldn't mind would you?"

Your shoulders slumped a little, inhaling as you smiled at him, this time not as bright as the previous one. "Of course!"

Vash already felt dejected, averting his gaze as you turned to hail down the barkeep, back towards him now. His was about to give in, let Wolfwood embarrass him further, that was until a hand snaked around your waist.

Blinking in shock, Vash turned to the stranger, who simply flashed him a cruel wink. Your body tensed under the unwelcome touch, shuffling further away.

Brows knotted in an annoyed frown, Vash surged forward, shoving himself between you and the stranger. Eyes glared down at the guy, ignoring the harsh insults thrown his way.

"I don't appreciate you touching her like that." Vash spoke in a low, warning tone. His glare never left the guy as he slipped back into the crowd, only then did he turn to you.

"Thank you, Va-"

"I like you, Y/n! I have for a while, but I could never find the words to tell you," Vash blurted out, face reddening at each word spilling from his lips. "You're just so perfect, so beautiful that it drives me crazy."

You stared at Vash in silence, unaware of the drinks placed before you that you had ordered. You simply just looked up at Vash, who had suddenly returned to his awkward behaviour from before, apologising profusely if he overstepped.

"I thought you'd never confess," You simply smiled, watching as Vash held his mouth agape. "You really didn't think I'd catch on? Not to mention Nicholas's constant complaining."

Vash felt the burning sensation of embarrassment, so Wolfwood had already spilled his secret?

"And I feel the same way Vash, there's no need to be embarrassed." A gentle hand grabbed his face, the action was so tender it rendered the blonde speechless. Yet his eyes shone so brightly, as if the stars shined within their blue hues.

You leaned forward, placing a tender kiss to his other cheek, grabbing the drinks and walking back to the others, leaving Vash frozen by the bar. A giddy smile was already growing on his face, before hurriedly followed, pushing Wolfwood to his precious chair to sit besides you.

Wolfwood

Unlike Vash, Wolfwood is extremely obvious when he's jealous. Yet he's in extreme denial about it.

Doesn't know how to deal with his emotions, so most of his interactions with you were infuriating teasing insults, or teasing Nicknames as a way to express them.

Often times due to your extroverted personality, you'd bite back. And boy oh boy did that light a fire in Nicholas.

But again, he doesn't understand these emotions, so he won't know how to deal with them, resulting in shoving them so deep down they're non-existent. A figment of his imagination, to never resurface.

It doesn't matter if he begrudgingly gives you his last lollipop every time you ask for it, or smile when you successfully pluck a crumpled cigarette from his lips to snuff it out. He won't fall for such Bewitching enticement.

Yet watching as some cocky guy comes up to you, causing you to laugh at some cheesy joke he probably pulled from his ass, made Nicholas see red.

If looks could kill, that guy would be buried six feet under.

But the moment you turn to address the group, catching his gaze, it immediately softens. Shoulders slouching as the hairs on the back of his neck stand, and immediately he tenses with a sudden realisation.

"Fuck, I'm in. . . Love?"

Nicholas swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a wave of heat from his spot at the table, dread sinking into the depths of his being. He couldn't really be in love, could he? Not with someone as obnoxious as you?

Despite trying to deny everything, finding every excuse in the book to try and reason with this newfound conflict, the Undertaker came up blank. He seriously needed another drink to make it through the night, maybe a few dozen at best.

"You'll burn a hole through her at this rate, if you're that thirsty just get the drinks yourself." Meryl dragged him from his thoughts, earning her an glare of annoyance.

Quirking a brow back towards the flirt by your side, the way he leaned just that little bit closer, shoulders brushing. Nicholas wanted to fill him with bullets.

"You know what, I think I will." Standing, shouldering past other customers Nicholas rudely got in between you and your new buddy. His signature smirk present as he looked your way, sliding an arm across your shoulders. "Apologies for the interrupting, sweetheart. We're all dying of thirst back there, gonna wrap this up or what?"

You give Nicholas a slight glare, though it held no real bite. "Rude as ever, Wolfwood. The space on my other side was free, ya know."

"Oh I know, just wanted to make sure this guy backed off." Turning to the stranger, Nicholas scowled at him, pulling you just that little bit closer as he chuckled lowly. "Well, run along, she ain't interested and I'm sure as hell impatient. Wouldn't wanna piss me off further, now would we?"

Scoffing as the stranger left, not before flipping the Undertake off. Nicholas turned back to you, leaning against the bar as he flashed you a toothy grin.

"Seriously? That guy? You could do so much better than him."

"Like you?" Nicholas choked, coughing into his hand as he squinted at you, a deadpan expression on your face as you quipped a brow at him.

Composing himself, Nicholas cleared his throat. "I'm not the worst option, sweetheart. If you're into me that is, who knows I might even bite if you're pulling hard enough."

You snorted, laughter following shortly after when the drinks were slid your way. Shoving a couple towards Nicholas, you calmed down enough to look at him, trying hard not to laugh again. "If that's your way of confessing, Wolfwood, I'd say you're utterly hopeless."

Nicholas felt his throat grow dry as you walked off, leaving him with his own drink and an additional one, probably Vash's. Tapping the glass with calloused finger, Nicholas scoffed, eyes rolling as he grabbed the drinks.

You really knew how to piss him off, but he'd be lying if he didn't get a kick out of it. You really were something, and Nicholas could no longer deny the way you made his heart burst like a thousand miniature fireworks.

Maybe he ought to properly confess, you certainly didn't seem to back away from the idea. He'd just have to regain some of that courage, try again when he was more sober.

A/N: hope you enjoyed these Anon! I actually had a lot of fun writing these, and hope you enjoy reading them. 💜

I do apologise with Wolfwoods being shorter, I'm was on a Vash agenda before this xD

#trigun stampede #trigun #trigun wolfwood #vash #vash the stampede #vash x reader #vash x you #trigun x reader #trigun x you #nicolas d wolfwood #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x you #wolfwood

[theehcneypot]

                                            🎶  ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜ.

                                        ₀․₀₀◦────────────────◦ ₃․₁₅

↳ — Pairing: Midorima Shintarou x Black Fem Reader 

↳ — Genre: Friends w/ benefits to lover

↳ — Content: Smut, Oral sex, (female receiving), mention of fellatio. If I miss anything please let me know.

↳ — Wordcount: 2k

↳ — Notes: Honestly this is my first time writing a character x reader and the first time in a while since I’ve wrote any smut soooo hopefully I did this some justice. Also no description just something I came up with while listening to SZA. Enjoy!

                                    ₀․₀₀◦────────────────◦ ₃․₁₅

“Y/N open the door” Midorima yelled as he continued to knock on the door, it was now going on week three since the last time you and Midorima had spoken to one another, and it was killing him how much you were ignoring him. he took it upon himself to ask you face to face. And now here he stood at your front door, not receiving a response from you he shook his head as he release a deep sighed. He had a feeling that you were upset with him but he wasn’t sure why thought. Seeing as how you wasn’t responding to any of his texts and calls he had made the decision to come over and talk to you in person of course you never came to the front door so what choice did he have but to give up and go back home. When leaving he heard the sound of the lock click indicating that someone had came to the door, turning around he was met by you.

Only having the door cracked just enough for you to peek out, being met with the male’s light green eyes, you gave him the meanest glare you could muster “are you going to continue to stand there and glare at me like a serial killer or are you going to let me in so we can talk like adults?” Rolling your eyes you opened the door wider signaling for the green hair male to come in as you made your way towards the kitchen. Walking around the island you crossed your arms over your chest giving the male your undivided attention. 

Walking inside Midorima made sure that the door was shut before following you into the kitchen. Standing on the opposite of the island he huffed “what is it that I did this time?” he asked placing his hands on top of the marble island. “It what you don’t fucking do that’s the problem!” you shouted allowing your shoulders drop as you release a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time this topic was brought up between the two of you, you would complain how he never showed you any affections out in public or even acknowledge you as his girlfriend, he would tell you that he would work on it and tell you sweet nothings such as you’re the best thing that has happened in his life and that he was going to do better. 

But his actions never lived up to his words, and then the cycle would continue to repeat itself over again and again and at this point you were tried of going through this. “You’re always telling him that you would show affection towards me when we’re out and yet last night at Kise party you act like I didn’t even exist! It’s like we’re back to being fuck buddies instead of girlfriend and boyfriend!” you complained, trying to keep your angry at bay “you’re contradicting as fuck! Maybe I should have gotten with Takao...better yet Akashi, I heard he’s still single” you smirked, reaching over to grab your phone “I hate you.”

Midorima didn’t say anything, he wasn’t dumb, not by a long shot he already knew what the problem was and instead of saying anything he allowed you this time to complain and let everything out but what he wasn’t expecting is for you to threaten hooking up with his best friend, or his former Teiko teammate especially Akashi, he knew you were taunting him, knowing the secret rivalry he held with the red hair, so the thought of you getting together Akashi with brought rage to the male and made him feel that disrespected. As if he would ever let you go that easily, the audacity of you challenging him ignited some sort of spark that he hadn’t felt before but also he didn’t mind the feeling.

Making his way around the island, grabbing your phone and throwing it against the wall causing it to break into pieces “my fucking phone!” you yelled, watching as the pieces fell to the ground. “Should have never disrespected me” he countered, as he towered over your small frame. Cocking your head back as you look the male up and down “disrespected you?! If anyone is being disrespected it’s me! All because your scary ass don’t wanna claim me in public!” you spoke with loads of attitude lace in your voice. Sending you a glare “I’ll buy you a new one” he responded, swiftly grabbing a hold of your neck tighten his grip as he pulls you closer towards him. So close that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, prompting goosebumps to rise along your skin. Leaning closer “I’m gonna fuck that attitude of you” he whispered before dropping his hand and stepping back “strip” he commanded.

Watching intently as you removed your clothing, soon revealing your entire bare body in his sight, Midorima smirked affectionately, admiring every detail of your curvaceous frame. Without words, he placed his hands on your waist, soon picking you up and placing up on the edge of the counter. Releasing you once you were securely set, Midorima lowered himself in front of you bringing both of your thighs over his shoulders and softly beginning to plant soft kisses that led up to your inner thighs, stopping once he reached your center. Taking a moment to bask in the beauty of your puckered lower duo, the male soon release his tongue from the confinement of his mouth just to part your lower lips, fist beginning to shower your peeking clitoris with affection by softly flicking his tongue over it, then swirling it around the swollen nub and finally capturing it between his lips as they suctioned it into his mouth.

Your soft verbal release of pleasure only frustrated the male as he continued to softly tend to her now throbbing clitoris. He wanted to hear more than that, and you knew it. Immediately switching gears, he gently captured your clit between his teeth, lightly tugging on it as he began to pull away, finally releasing it after a few seconds. His focus was then turned towards her awaiting core, which he immediately dove into with his tongue. Easing the slender muscle within your wetness, the male gradually began to work up a steady pace of penetration in and out of your sex, making an effort to force his tongue further than before with each entrance into your core.

As the minutes began to pass, his pace began to speed up, soon darting his tongue in and out of your tight hole, soon bringing his hand up towards your center and adding his middle finger to the mix. Without warning, he slid his finger into your soaked cunt, the excess amount of juices allowing for easy access as he added his finger alongside his tongue inside of your core, now simultaneously pumping them at the same pace into your cunt. However, he strategically began to curl his finger, forcing the tip to discover and massage areas of your cove that his tongue was unable to reach, hoping to intensify the amount of pleasure he could inflict upon you.

As you began to move your hips in sync with the furious movements of his tongue and finger, clearly displaying the pleasure you was feeling, Midorima then took it upon himself to swiftly remove his tongue and fingers from your now gaping hole, wanting to immediately fulfilling your request but wanting to first have some fun of his own. Standing to his feet, Midorima used his free hand to grab you by your hair, forcefully pulling you towards him and smashing his lips into yours, kissing you passionately, purposely easing his tongue into your mouth so you could get a taste of the meal you’d given him.

After a few moments, he broke the intense lip lock, pulling your head back. Gliding his index and middle finger up and down your sloppy slit, he gathered even more of your sticky nectar on his fingers before shoving them into your mouth to let you taste yourself once again. “Lick every bit of that off” he demanded, giving you the opportunity to remind of him of your fellatio skills but not before he drove his fingers a bit deeper into your mouth and hitting your gag reflex, causing you to gag, which sounded like music to his ears. “Fuck..as soon as you do as you’re told, I’ll fuck you like you want me to, do you understand?”

Watching you intently, Midorima dug his teeth into his lower lip, watching in amazement as you performed an imitation of fellatio on his fingers, causing the semi hardened member within his sweats to transition into a full hard on. Your unwavering eye contact with him as you continued only proved to intensify his sexual craving for you. Swiftly, he removed his fingers from your mouth and pushed your thighs open even more. Grabbing your wrist, pulling your hand away from your center “don’t touch unless I tell you to Y/N. You know better” he spoke sternly but calmly before pushing your han to the side and grabbing your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter just before releasing his protruding member from the confinement of his sweats. “if you want something to play with, here it is, princess.”

Leaning forward to surround him with your thick thighs, Midorima immediately grabbed a hold of them, looking down at you with a devilish grin. The male gave the illusion that he was taking her request into consideration. Swiftly pulling your lower half towards him, easily gliding his hardened length into the tightness of your dripping sex, replacing one of his hands that formerly gripped your thigh to firmly surround your slender neck, gazing intently into your eyes. Not only was the risk of engaging in such sexual acts on your kitchen counter turning Midorima on, but the fact that he’d penetrated your wetness with a lack of a condom.

Normally, he might have thought twice about going raw. However, his sexual craving for you was too unbearable for him not to take the risk. Slowly working up his own rhythm and a steady pace, Midorima glided his throbbing member in and out of your soaked cunt, occasionally breaking eye contact with you to admire the excess amount of your juices that had already coated his shaft just in the matter of a few minutes. “Fuck, I missed this pussy.” He muttered in between strokes, taking his bottom lip between his teeth soon after his comment.

The mixed sound of your soft moans and the screech of your nails as they dragged along the marble countertops only maximized the sexual appetite that built for you just within the span of the few hours they’d been reunited. With each forward thrust of his hips, Midorima attempted to submerge his throbbing rod even further into the depths of your sea, hoping to immediately come into contact with the most vulnerable spot that resided inside of you, knowing that it would push you to your limit if he hit it. However, your orgasm was not something he'd expected for a bit longer, and definitely not without his permission.

As he continued to penetrate your wetness, he noticed your own self indulgence as you fondled your clitoris, bringing his attention instead to your movements. "What did I tell you-" He barely finished his sentence before he grabbed your hand, removing his other hand from its hold around your neck so he could grab your other one as well, pushing you backwards so that your back rested against the cold marble, pinning you down onto the surface by your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes now had no other choice but to meet with yours as he hovered over you, pumping his thickened cock in and out of your pussy, admiring the echoing smacking sound that their skin made with each impact. "It missed me, huh? Fuckin' better have. Swear I love this tight little pussy of yours, princess." He muttered as he stared into your eyes, allowing the roughness and speed of his strokes to grow with time, extending deeper within your core as he did so.  

The sudden affection that you showed his jawline caught Midorima off guard as he continued his meticulous venture into the depths of your tightness, drawing a low grunt from his mouth before he allowed the grunt to transition into a full on groan of pleasure once he felt your walls tighten around his throbbing member, signaling to him that your orgasm was nearing faster than he had anticipated. The knowledge of the fact only motivated him to further expedite speed, intensity and depth of his strokes as you trembled beneath him, your lust enveloped words causing a wide smirk to form on his face. He loved to hear your verbal responses during their passionate escapades, which only served to build his sexual craving for you tenfold.

Noticing your body physically responding to his actions as well, he released his hold on your hands, allowing them access to roam as they pleased. However, never breaking eye contact with you, he replaced his hands around your neck, barely gripping it but giving off the gentle choking sensation as he repeatedly drove his rod into your wetness, which caused your excess juices to ricochet along his lower half. "Ah, fuck.." He muttered almost unconsciously as he allowed himself to indulge in the pleasure that he too was receiving from their interlocking of limbs. Knowing that you would be reaching your peak soon, Midorima mentally prepared himself for the climax that would soon hit him as well. He contemplated whether or not he should pull out once it had hit or not, hoping to receive some sort of confirmation from you on what he should do.  

Your moans of pleasure aided by your verbal response soon gave Midorima all of the confirmation that he'd needed to release his load into the raw insides of your wetness. However, he knew that your orgasm was his main priority to attend to. As your walls tightened around his rod, he was soon alerted that your climax was to hit just as soon as his own, taking it as motivation to increase the speed, depth and intensity of his thrusts even more, this time beyond any measure he'd ever done, mercilessly plowing into your throbbing walls. Tightening his hold just slightly around your neck, he leaned down, staring intently into your eyes before speaking out the words that would release them both from the large build up of sexual desire that had grown in each of their groins. "Cum for daddy." He demanded, accenting each word he spoke with a forward jerk of his hips, forcing the bulbous head of his member to repeatedly penetrate your most sensitive spot, knowing it would push you over the edge.  

Once you finally released all that had gradually built up inside of you, the combination of your pleasured exclamations, immense tightening of your walls, trembling limbs and overflow of juices finally sent Midorima over the edge as well. As you rode out your intense orgasm, his finally had hit, causing him to release your neck and place each of his hands on their side of your head, pressing his palms against the marble countertops, his eyes habitually shutting as he jaw tightened, a tingling sensation building within his sac then suddenly being released deep within your raw core. Midorima was careless at this point. He wanted you to feel all that he had to offer deep within you, and that meant the endless streams of semen that oozed into your wetness with each forward thrust of his hips. A guttural grunt echoed from deep within his throat as he too rode out his climax, your squirting juices only proving to further intensify his climax. Placing his forehead against yours as you both try to steady your breathing. Looking up into your eyes “do you still hate me?” he asked, giving you his signature smirk.

#knb x reader #knb x you #knb x y/n #knb midorima #midorima x takao #midorima shintaro x reader #midorima x reader #midorima #anime #anime fic #knb smut #kuroko no basket #Kuroko Basketball #kuroko no basuke x reader #kuroko no basuke smuth #fem reader #female reader

[edge0fmydesiree]

Year in review, fandom edition.

Thank you @theoceanismyinkwell for the tag! 😘

Rules:

Link the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular).

1. I Call Bullshit (2k, Teen Wolf, Thiam Fic).

[or: Liam gets hurt & Theo takes care of him, but once Scott arrives, he doesn’t stick around. Liam has some choice words about that.]

Prompt: #122: “Just relax, I’ll wash your hair for you.” & #156: [text]: I call bullshit

One of my favorite tropes, and some of my favorite fics, is when one of them is injured and the other takes care of them. Whether that’s tending to, or cleaning their wounds, or making sure they’re okay. Another favorite of mine is sharing a shower and taking turns cleaning each other, or one of them is injured and has a bath while the other washes them. I just love the softness and intimacy of it.

It was something I wanted to write, and put my own spin on. Of course I had to add a little bit of humor at the end of all that angst. I had a lot of fun with this fic.

2. Without Me. Without Us. (5k, Teen Wolf, Sterek Fic).

Stiles obviously had to rescue him. It was his duty as a budding FBI agent: to save people. Protect and serve and all that. Honestly, he can’t count how many times he’s had to save the grumpy Sour Wolf.

[or: Stiles and Derek return to Beacon Hills just in time to save the day. But can their new relationship be enough to make them stay in the only place that’s ever felt like home to them both?]

This was my first attempt at writing Sterek, and putting my own spin on one of my favorite Sterek scenes. I had a lot of fun writing the flashbacks—that fit the characterisation of Derek & Stiles.

3. Let's Say All Of The Things That We Couldn’t Before (5k, Teen Wolf, Thiam Fic).

Liam and Theo have a past. One that’s full of heartbreak and pain. But that doesn’t stop them from being drawn together like moths to a flame. It doesn’t stop Theo from going to the only person he can turn to.

[or: Theo shows up at Liam’s bloody and bruised and nowhere else to go.]

Another trope I absolutely love is when one of them is injured and they go to the one person they trust, or feel safe. I’m also a sucker for sneaking through their window, and decided to combine the two.

This fic is angsty, and deals with sensitive topics like family violence, but I also wanted to make it hopeful. Despite the heaviness of the topic, I enjoyed writing it and hopefully did it justice.

4. Maybe You've Had Skin Next To Your Skin, But When Was The Last Time You Let Yourself Be Touched? (1.5k, Teen Wolf, Thiam Fic).

He inhales sharply, exhales fast and shallow, an instinctive action born of awareness, and just like that, his whole body goes rigid with tension. Liam’s arm is flush against his, pressing a little harder each time he shifts closer. Liam’s thigh grazes his, the contact almost too much for his touched starved senses.

“Theo.” His name alone causes his—his sisters— heartbeat to pick up speed and knock against his ribs. “Theo, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He offers no more, his feelings too personal — too raw.

Touched starved Theo is one of my favorites to read, and I always wanted to create my own spin on it. This was also my first attempt at including a flashback of Theo’s trauma. Subtext is not my strong suit, but I think I did a good job of working it in a way that flowed well with the story.

5. No Thing (6k, Teen Wolf, Thiam Fic).

It’s not a thing. There is no-thing. Everyone can fuck right of with their, it’s a thiam thing. Okay. So there might be a thing. Fuck.

I loved writing this fic. A crack humor fic that includes the whole pack, and two pining idiots. I loved the idea of the pack being aware of Theo’s and Liam’s ‘thing’ and bringing it up to try and force them to acknowledge it. I also wanted Theo to be aware of ‘the thing’ but denying it to everyone, and even himself.

List your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year.

1. I’m Not Leaving You. (Teen Wolf, Steo Fic).

This was supposed to be published last year. I’ve been trying to write this for months! It’s taking me forever to write this. But this will be the first one from my WIPS that will be finished.

Theo is taken by Monroe’s hunters, and Tortured. Stiles, THE GODDAMN HERO that he is, comes to rescue him.

2. It’s Not Stalking! (Teen Wolf, Sterek Fic).

This is a crack, Sterek fic that I’ve enjoyed working on.

Derek is a deputy at Beacon Hills Sheriff's station. Derek’s new town and keeps to himself. Stiles is suspicious, believes he’s shady AF, and decides to follow him.

3. I’ll Always Come. (Teen Wolf, Thiam Fic).

This is another fic that was supposed to be published last year. I actually started writing this fic before the Steo fic. With Uni, work, the holidays, and the move, it hasn’t left me much time for writing.

Theo is taken by hunters, and interrogated by Monroe. He’s, pack adjacent and doesn’t believe the pack will come for him, but refuses to betray them.

4. It Never Was. (Teen Wolf, Thiam Fic).

A 30k - 40k Theo focused fic with a plot. Other Packs & Hunter Clans are introduced.

Theo helps the pack hunt for Monroe. After they take down Monroe Theo plans to leave. He helps Argent and Sheriff track Monroe and her hunters across multiple counties, and figure out what her end game is. Theo helps Scott try and gain allies from other Packs affected by Monroe and her hunters.

Share your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing (or art) over the past year.

1. My confidence in writing different POV’s & other ships.

2. The flow of the fic. I feel like the overall story of my newer fics flow better.

3. My writing style, I feel like has definitely improved.

Describe your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/art) for the new year.

1. To dedicate more time to writing. Having a ‘daily’ writing routine.

2. Spending more time on planning out my Fics.

Lastly, tell us your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

I swear to god, Theo, I WILL sniff you out.

— I just think it’s funny.

Tagging:

@attempted--eloquence @ash-mcj @sterekshipper

@tabbytabbytabby @wolfboy88 @msmischief101 @yikeshereiam @asarcasticwitch @amatchinwater @thecenturiestrickle @inabottlelikelightning

#teen wolf #ao3 writer #teen wolf fanfiction #thiam #liam dunbar #stiles x derek #sterek fic #thanks for tagging me! #tag game

[antvnger]

On the 12th day of Christmas, Ant-Man ((and Ant-Mun)) gave to you:

A Christmas letter.

Dear you (yeah, you!),

Whether you celebrate Christmas or not, this is for you (yeah, you).

I know it sounds super cliche, but where the heck did this year go? I feel like I was just coming up with all this kind of stuff for you last year. What a wild ride, gang. It’s been good though, and I hope it’s been as good for you as it has been for me.

This blog has grown a little bit since last year okay maybe more than a little bit, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it so far. You guys are something else, and I love you all a ridiculous amount. I never really expected to get so much interaction when I started this whole thing, but oh my gosh, it’s been wild.

This whole tumblr-multiverse is a crazier place than the Quantum Realm, and I outta know! I mean, heck, I met Captain Hook. Me! I was the first adult Lost Boy he’d ever come across! I dunno if that’s exactly a good thing or not, but whatever, I met him. And loads others I never would have thought possible.

I’m getting off track. That was a big problem I faced while writing my book. Sometimes I just write my thoughts as they pop up in my head, and that leads to a lot of ADHD tangents and thoughts falling down the rabbit hole, and next thing I know I have no idea where I was going or where I have been. Anybody relate? Man, I wish I could send you all free copies of my book for Christmas, but this will have to do.

I’m not just writing a letter to you. At least that’s not the only thing I’m doing. Hopefully, you’ll find more in this little letter than just some words from a rambling guy. I’ll leave it to you to figure out what you could find, because what one person may receive from this may be completely different than someone else reading. 

And that’s part of the magic.

My Gigi used to say, “Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and ta-da! Everything is softer and more beautiful.” I think she said she heard that from someone else, but I’m gonna ignore that and say she came up with that all by herself. Regardless, it’s true.

Once Halloween is over (or once Thanksgiving is over if you’re like Ant-Mun), the Christmas season suddenly shows up like when you would go to sleep with no snow on the ground and wake up to a world of white. I’ve been blessed enough to have witnessed such magic a few times while growing up, and if you don’t know what that’s like, I hope you get to experience it at least once someday. It’s worth it.

But anyway, the Christmas season really does have its own brand of magic, and I am all about the magic. It spices the air and calms the atmosphere all at the same time. There’s extra love in hugs and cards and “Hey! How are you?”s, and for a little while, you can let loose a sigh and there’s some peace. The world isn’t where it needs to be, but for a short time, it feels like it comes pretty close.

I really could go on and on about Christmas and what it means to me, especially the first Christmas. I could write for days on that topic, just typing my thoughts as fast as my fingers can to try to keep up with my brain, but I don’t think I could ever do it justice. And that really isn’t the point of this letter anyway. 

Here’s the point:

Dear you (yeah, you!), you are loved.

You are special.

You are priceless.

You are essential.

You are not a mistake.

You’re not junk.

You matter.

You’re seen.

And you’re loved.

Right here, right now, as you read this, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, whatever you’re thinking, however you’re feeling, whether today is a good day, a shitty day, or just another Monday, you’re loved.

At the very least, you’re loved by me; you’re loved by Ant-Mun; and you’re loved by the One who designed and created you with the greatest intention and the utmost care. There’s nothing else in the world I’m more sure of than that.

So whatever your situation today, just soak up that truth. Let it marinate and let it warm up your soul. And I really really hope with everything I’ve got that you feel that love and the truth of that love today.

And do me a favor please? Indulge in your inner child today and find some magic. I mean, c’mon, it’s me. I’m definitely gonna advocate this part too. Indulge in your inner child today and find some magic. It’s all around after all. It’s strongest today. You just gotta open your eyes to it, and you’ll find it.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, happy holidays to those who don’t,

And most importantly, lotsa lotsa lotsa love,

Scott ((and Ant-Mun))

#scott's thoughts #ant mun's thoughts #scott lang #ant-man #ant mun #scott's12daysofchristmas #christmas2023 #christmas #christmas letter #dear reader #merry christmas #happy holidays #we love you #ant man #antman

[hekateinhell]

Hi! I would love to know which of your VC fics you're the most proud of, and can you tell us a little bit about the thought process behind it!!!! Like the DIRECTORS CUT if you will.

KACYYY omg hiiiiiiii 🖤

Oh man, here’s where I get to be more self-indulgent and self-absorbed than usual. Brace yourselves. Alright, let’s roll! For the sake of this ask, I'm going to eliminate AUs simply because they take the vampire out of VC lol.

I want to preface all this with a quote from AR I remember as a young teen (had to dig it up). She was reading from TVA, and she said that book, more than any other, was a metaphor for the vampire as, “A creature who thought he was damned and lost and still had a vision of the world as a beautiful place.” It just speaks to me, both as the person behind the screen writing and as something I try to keep in mind re: my characterizations at this point in the fic process.

Anne also got a lot of credit for being the one to humanize the vampire in the 70s and 80s which, I want to point out, isn’t the same thing as taking the monster out of the vampire and making them human—especially in the moral sense. Just another note re: my personal characterizations.

And now to fics! We get mature under the cut. :)

I couldn't decide between these two, so you get both! Lol or you can stop reading after one! In no particular order:

Shake The Disease (previously Bijoux Box)︱Armand/Daniel ︱Rated: E (more out of caution atm, but she'll soon earn it!)

This isn't even a proper fic lol this is my prompt collection. And I absolutely love it because it's my tiny tribute to the pairing that hooked its claws into my brain fifteen years ago and never really let go. It took about six months of writing fic to get to where I thought that maybe ?? I could ?? do them justice ??

My first time writing human!Daniel and Armand, outside of little flashback scenes in other fics. Given how little material we have to work with (consider the Devil's Minion chapter compared to the rest of the Chronicles), it takes Great Depression era creativity and dedication to get the absolute mileage out of it that this fandom has. And it's tricky, because while I want to nail the cadence and dynamic of canon, I have to acknowledge that my take on D/A will be different in its own way. How we all individually process and analyze lit is such a unique thing, no two takes can (or should be!) identical. So finding a balance is my goal.

Additionally, it's been really nice to actually give something back to the fandom through prompt requests (I didn't even specify Armand/Daniel when I posted the prompt list, but my sweet, wonderful, perfect moots know me ❤️).

Closer ︱Armand/Lestat︱Rated: E ︱this one required the Consensual Sex tag, lord help me.

My third (I think?) fic ever, and imo it kind of shows, but it's special to me because here’s where I started feeling comfortable enough to venture into darker themes. I’ve always enjoyed exploring power dynamics and play.

There's a good dose of D&S (dominance and submission) themes, and something I enjoy with this pairing (just like with human!Daniel/Armand) is the vampiric mindreading ability that can be used to confirm consent. Now, obviously, this is a fictional adaption of already fictional characters, but a reminder for anyone reading since we're on topic—if it's not consensual, it is not BDSM and it is not sex.

Armand and Lestat are just fun to work with because they’re very similar in a lot of ways (abusive childhoods/adolescences, this obsessiveness/neediness in their relationships, a tendency to deflect/unholy tempers, underdeveloped prefrontal cortexes, Mutual Marius Issues, etc.) and there's a lot of good and bad history. Sequel coming very soon, bless my heart.

My fingers have run out of breath, but I did want to share this I posted a while back, half-jokingly, but hopefully marginally helpful for anyone wanting to dip their toes into fic-writing (and if anyone wants an cleaner, updated version lmao I will do it): Hekate’s Tips & Tricks for Not Wanting to Capri Sun a Rat & Sob All Over Your Keyboard

Thank you so much for this Kacy, it was really fun and interesting (for me!) to actually take a beat and think about my own creative process. Rip.

#this counts as my writing for the day #fic #vc #the vampire chronicles #you ask and hekate answers

[megarywrites]

(from @flowerprose) 13 & 19!

thank you @flowerprose!

13 | What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

well, a part of Thala's story deals with sexual assault, which isn't exactly an easy topic to delve into. I do hope I'm doing this particular plot line justice as for easy, I'd probably say relationships in general, of any variety. I love exploring how different characters interact with each other it's one of my favorite parts of the writing process lol

19 | Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

oh boy laksdjfla let's see how long i let this get. I actually got into writing because of my sister! she'd been working on a developing a fantasy retelling of Sleeping Beauty while she was in college and she had been bouncing ideas off of me for a while. I was at work (at a bakery, just for the setting of it all lol) and listening to this song by Celtic Thunder and I started thinking about the book she was writing because she wanted to go with a Celtic-inspired fantasy world and when I got home I wrote down the entire plot (eleven pages front to back, hand-written lmao) for what would be our first book together (aka the wip that I'll switch to when i finish the first draft of Seafoam). A few years went by, we eventually moved in together and I thought that was great because it'd be the first time we were living together since we started writing these books (we were two books in at the time), but then she ended up not wanting to continue writing together and so she gave me what is now Dracrie. it really threw me off for a while, and I strongly considered quitting writing because I didn't think I'd be able to write a good enough story without her help. But, gradually, I found my way back after a few false starts. and then I got hit with the insane urge to dedicate four years to writing a nearly 700k+ word fanfic and so i got derailed from my book series. Do I regret it? Sorta? in like, I wish I could have dedicated that time to working on my series. but I also don't regret it, because I met some of my closest friends through the comments of that fic, and writing something that long helped me realized that: - i could write a complete story that people would stick with and love until the end - i could do it on my own during this time, I had the idea for Seafoam, and I knew the longer I thought about it that I wanted it to be my debut novel. I finished the fic almost a year ago, and like the day after I finished, I went on a mini vacation to the beach and started chapter 1 of Seafoam lol that's where I am now, and i'm honestly so proud of my progress. I've gotten really confident in my abilities in the 10+ years i've been writing, and I'm very content being on my own, because it means i don't have to compromise when it comes to my characters and the plots i devise. where i'm going? well, hopefully I'll be published sooner rather than later, but I want whatever I publish to be as polished as humanly possible, so I'm okay with giving myself the space and time to do that. as to whether i'll be trad or self published, i'm still undecided but currently leaning more towards self

send me weird writing asks?

#ask #flowerprose #thank you again!!

[con5p1racy-a]

received  :  @serpentxprince​                📔 - vampy J

               >  𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳:  𝟶𝟽𝟸𝟺𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽

               >  𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙳.

If you got the password, then you would know the night I got to Riverdale. Kudos to you, in that case. That means I trusted you enough to tell you.

Not like I write these for anyone else’s eyes, though. But to those who read these, which is myself and one or two select few close associates, this is all merely a backlog to keep myself in check...

I’m explaining myself again. Back to the topic.

Jonesy.

I met him on my first night here. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting such a small town to hold such a huge population of Kindred, let alone any at all; I was planning on moving further north, just stopping for a drink and a spot to sleep, hopefully somewhere I wouldn’t burn alive. Never planned to stick around this long, however long it’s been.

Likewise, I never expected to find so much interest in this place. The political dynamics, the shit that goes down under the humans’ noses, and all the while still maintaining this falsely close-knit community on top of the Masquerade. Part of me had a bad feeling about this place, something in my head told me to keep moving. But another part of me kept me from skipping over, going to the next town. Like I was supposed to meet someone.

Whether it was gut instinct or that awful beast, I don’t care. As much danger as I’m probably in here, I’m glad I stayed in town and snuck around that night. I never would have met Jonesy.

At first he only reminded me of Frankie; both a bit estranged from their respective families due to their clan. And then, in some way, myself; both groomed to be a certain clan ― though, of course, I didn’t know while he did ― but wound up another. But comparisons do no justice in the end, as they hardly ever do.

Outside of my original coterie back in Charlotte, I have never met another Kindred with the kind of open-mindedness and, dare I say, empathy (or maybe sympathy, in my time hidden from the sun I’ve come to confuse the two) that Jonesy has shown, or at least has shown to me.

And maybe it’s something I would have felt before, as a human, or maybe it’s the result of the clan I was embraced into, but truthfully he’s the biggest reason I’ve stuck around for so long. I could have left as originally planned, or made the attempt to drag him along with me (as I still am so often tempted to do), but... I stayed. I have to, I have reason to.

Nearly sun-up by now. If I crack open the curtains in the place Jonesy and I stay, I can see the blue start to brighten in the east. Falling asleep on the couch is far from ideal. Maybe I’ll write more tomorrow, I’ve felt the need to be more reflective lately. I wonder if it’s a sign of some kind.

#// not me looking up the year s1 took place.. lol #// like i KNOOOWWW its vamp verse but i Needed To Do It lmao #𝟘𝟝𝟙。⌜ᴄᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ⌟ ∘ ° 。answered #𝟘𝟝𝟙。⌜ғʀᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴘᴇʀsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ⌟ ∘ ° 。v.//malkavian #serpentxprince #// aahahaha. this one got long ;; lol #// me: ''hes a photographer/videographer not a writer'' #// also me: writes this as if j.asper wrote it. #// my excuse is that he's been reading a lot or something. idk lmao #// did i follow the prompt? kinda sorta yeah. just take it

[temporarymoods]

aggressive hey

i always promise so much.

rarely do i fail to deliver.

except when it comes to writing.

i'm not even sure what i want to write about now, but i guess a couple things right off first:

haven't posted to the blog in a while

have thought about it a lot ever since (throughout november, december and winter break, the first two months of the spring semester, + a week)

just can't sit down and do it sometimes

but I've got a lot of ideas. lack of blog posts absolutely not correlating with lack of things to say...

i utilize my notes app extensively, there's some ideas there, but i don't want to go in at random, that would feel wrong and i couldn't maintain this meter of writing that i'm already doing, so.... Dune.

just learned about what's going on with Dune, in the Dune world, and so on. first attempt at watching the movie a couple years ago left me feeling silly but, i'm better now. i want to read the book over the summer, in a hammock. there are a lot of things i want to do this summer. those are all over my notes app, too, and on my wall. i don't think "dating" makes the list, though girls remain pretty.

SUMMER * dinner parties, on the porch, heavily curated * farmers markets, fresh produce w/ baked goods * indirect sunshine * direct sunshine * shrooms * sand * biking * the movies w/ a sweatshirt around my waist * a bong, graduation present to self * better clothes * movies, at home tho, lots * ice cream * camping and lake swimming * working * walking through the park * the hardware store (for what?) * feeling like i did it * sports games (spectator)

that's just naming a few. hopefully a lot of them can come true. i want to let my body feel good, it knows what to do, you know?

speaking of: dry sex life. mostly. but that's just on me, my doing, so i cannot really complain, but just state. for future record. that im still in my contented-single era, haven't quite hit the wall that keeps you bothered about it yet. cool cool. guess some time w a stranger couldn't be that bad, if i made it fun for me. what a weird concept. i love my friends, that is already so much. saw a corny tweet about that today. didn't like it because it would show up on friends' feeds and that's just,, ugh. true though

february was kind of ungovernable (what else can i say besides 'crazy' or 'wild'???) in a bitches testing me way (lmao) but no in a... here, see for yourself: [from my notes]

<<Feb 1st, downhill instantly>>

Feb 4th>>

Priorities 

Comfort and Wellbeing

Feb 6th>>

Sick email

Hi Prof,

This is Kate from your ( ) class. 

Just writing to let you know that over the past couple days I’ve been experiencing symptoms of a medical emergency. 

Feb 19th>>

i feel like peopke have been pretty critical with my recently and i dont like that 

>>

lowkey infuriated

>>

el tuesday [these are things I write down that I wanted to talk to el about on tuesday]

having to defend myself a lot recently

maybe i should cut my acts (self centered, crazy/stupid) (dramatic, unserious) [REDACTED]

would normally want to talk to a therapist about my natural desires to do things that feel important to me but are deemed odd/wrong by others ex. [REDACTED] but also wouldn’t normally pick such a birds eye topic because we get engrossed in the little things. but still: is there something fucking wrong w me? is it bpd? am i 2 hippie 2 quit?

doing things for the plot, to experience things (different)

my whole idea of human relationships in general 

Feb 21st>>

blog

was very overwhelmed this morning— hadnt felt that anxious in a loooooonggg time!!— but lunch w gray and lab partner (liz?) was so beautiful & im like, again, omg i love life + my friends ☀️☀️🌞🌞

Feb 23rd>>

Mom - therapy hospital $$

Feb 29th>>'

“By anarchist spirit I mean that deeply human sentiment, which aims at the good of all, freedom and justice for all, solidarity and love among the people; which is not an exclusive characteristic only of self-declared anarchists, but inspires all people who have a generous heart and an open mind.” Errico Malatesta, Umanita Nova, April 13, 1922

* * *

so that's that... i think hopefully that says a lot, captures a feeling. i knew it was a month to remember like halfway through, you know? and it ending with a 1 year breakup anniversary... classic. reflective. so glad it's march though, damn! haters were taking up too much space. i say that jokingly obviously but also if you dare to read through the lines you might observe that i am in fact quite upset about the attacks leveraged at me over the course of a couple nights in a short span of time that were all off base and random and yet still hurtful anyway it was a weird pattern there's no denying! it doesnt help the identity crisis, which is in FULL SWING !

who am i?

idfk man. let's consult the March notes app, shall we?

March 1st, 3am>>

dont like cleaning bc dont like confronting the waste i make

March 1st, 2pm>>

in love a little bit with a handful of my friends but for various reasons dating them is not in the question & will never be! how relieving to know that

March 6th>>

Candlelit charcuterie night 

* * *

feel like these don't shine as bright but they're certainly better. im supposed to get my period today and i had no idea. but wait let me clarify that you should not take that second note to mean that i have feelings for my friends i do not, just read it another way idk

music been good recently.

rn its 2018 peach pit (Drop the Guillotine) but that's definitely not representative. Lime Garden's album One More Thing is though. and Grimes still, if im not doing that persona enough. and Car Seat Headrest, but in an on wait - always way. like a fucking brother. rest of the good shit is just in my Liked Songs kind of at whim. special selection: Chosen to Deserve by Wednesday. Next up should be RINA bc alr found 2 songs on there I really enjoy. but even now im off hyperpop for a week, lmao. what happens when you go camping.

towel party next week aunt in the hospital mom visiting in like 1 second more job interviews tomorrow research to do havent unpacked yet its spring break i just keep getting high and getting through it i really do love my friends

there's probably so much about this life that i'm going to miss. and i look forward to the time where i actually have the space to consider that. more choice

a poem to close us out, and maybe i'll upload some pictures tomorrow. (haha, odds?) thanks for reading. just off the radio show juice, Fri Mar 8 3:20am. common time for me recently. stealing back my peace in the wee hours oft'

i heard symphonies who wouldn't let me sleep the everysound of rain on wood my ear on wood the same

i taste dairy soft despite my body taking my time i do not think

scratching at my head i can do this this i can do which lets me cave in

i laugh a lot it makes me cry a lot of tears a lot of love

i love sooooooo ( ) all to say ( )

<3, Kate

#late winter #on fire #exhausted #reaching #smiling

[writingwithcolor]

Gingerbread man as golem

@yaronata asked:

I would like to write a character who is Jewish and uses a Golem. She's based on the D&D class of the artificer which looks magic but isn't, because they produce all their effects with inventions, like the "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" quote. Her story is that her very Jewish town was under attack from a terrible monster when she was little. Her Rabbis made a Golem to protect the town, and it succeeded but was torn to pieces in the process. She was fascinated by the Golem and as a kid didn't see a big difference between it's sentience and person's so was really thankful for its sacrifice like you would a person's sacrificing their life for you. They thought all the pieces had been devoured by the monster before it died, but she went looking and found the piece used to animate the Golem, which she, kinda misunderstanding called its "heart". She kept the piece and grew up to be an incredibly skilled cook, specialising as a baker in the town. I imagine she would make a lot of really good food for the Jewish holidays, or to break fasts on ones like Yom Kippur or Tish'abav. But she also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice and the town still being alive, because I feel "we are not dead woo" is a big theme for Jewish holidays from my research, so it could fit, for which she invented ginger bread men to be the golem, and gave them little "hearts" of fruit or honey, and you're meant to eat them limb by limb like the beast did before eating the heart. This would be the inspiration for using the "heart" piece later to make her own giant gingerbread Golem to help her save the world.

These are my questions 1) would it be considered bad or disrespectful for someone who isn't a Rabbi to make a Golem, or is this method of taking an animating piece someone else made disrespectful? 2) Her journey will take her far from her town and her Jewish family and friends and she will likely travel with gentiles. Would it be disrespectful for a Golem to be used to protect a lot of gentiles and one Jew in the course of saving the world? I don't want to fall into the stereotype of someone putting all their effort into valuing and protecting very specifically the group that in real life is oppressive to them. 3) While she is not using magic and is actually mimicking its effects with technology she invents, is this drawing too close to the line of "magical Jew"? 4) I like to "play test" my characters in ttrpgs to really get a feel for them before I write. Would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character when I am a gentile, and would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character in a setting where there are demonstrably real gods other than the one of Judaism?

I really like this character idea and I think it's cute and fun and rooted in Jewish culture but I really want to make sure it's respectful and as good as I, a gentile researching on the internet, thinks it is. Thanks so much! Have a nice day!

My answer to this is very complicated because there are things I both like and do not like about this premise. First of all, I love the idea of a cookie golem, and I'm even imagining the magic word that brings him to life (EMET/truth) would be written in icing. And I'm okay with the part about how she found a piece of the old golem and used it to build a new golem, because that makes sense for a golem made from a baked good when you think about how people use sourdough starter to make a new batch of sourdough.

However, here are the thing that make me cock my head to the side like my little sister's German shepherd:

1. re: "magical Jew" - that's not a trope I've ever heard of. Remember, marginalized groups don't receive identical disrespect across the board. It is indeed a trope to use Black people or disabled people as supernatural plot devices who exist only to further the stories of white main characters or able-bodied main characters. But I can't say as I've ever seen anyone using Jewishness that way. Usually if we are someone's one-dimensional plot device it's as someone's lawyer, fixer, "money guy", etc, not a supernatural force. So this isn't something you have to worry about.

2. I have a certain level of discomfort with you playing as a Jewish character just because playacting as a marginalized culture you're not part of strikes me as off, but I understand that that's how you gain insight into a character you're about to write so it's more of a writing exercise than anything else. (I wonder if D&D regulars from marginalized groups have written about this -- I've only played a few times casually with family so if I did run into this type of discussion in my social justice reading I wouldn't have absorbed it. If anyone is curious I played first as Captain Werewolf, and then switched to playing as Cinnamon Blade because lawful good was too hard. :P )

3. I would prefer you omit the detail about eating the cookies piece by piece symbolically, for two reasons: a. it unintentionally evokes Communion by having appreciative people consume a baked good symbolic of an entity who sacrificed his life for theirs, and b. focusing on the details of flesh consumption reminds me too much of Blood Libel (yes, a gingerbread man is in the shape of a person but how many of us actually think about it literally, the way this act would cause?)

As to your first question: I'm fine with her making a golem even though she's just a rando. Second question: I see what you're saying and maybe it could be more okay if it's really clear how well these gentile folks are treating her? And questions three and four are answered above.

I really do love the idea of a giant gingerbread man golem. Cookie golem T_T <3

--Shira

I would like to second Shira’s point about not ripping apart the gingerbread cookies. I honestly would prefer they were used as decoration, and other cookies eaten instead, since that part just feels so not-Jewish to me, but I don’t have golem-specific issues other than that. It seems like you have already been doing a lot of research, which is appreciated.

As far as the ttrpg/DnD aspect… I bounce back and forth on the topic of playing characters that are so very different from our experiences, other than in fantasy-related ways. However, I am aware that a lot of people will play with, and experiment with gender in game, and learn something about themselves in the process (the number of trans players of ttrpgs who tried out their gender in game before they were out is high). It’s different with Judaism, and even more significantly different when it comes to things you can’t convert into, like various actual, real-world races. But because people do sometimes experience growth from experiences like this, I’m hesitant to dissuade players completely. I do urge you to, at a minimum, bring the same care, research, and willingness to learn, that you brought to this question.

--Dierdra

This sounds like a creative storyline that you could have lots of fun with 😊

At first I was confused by this part:

She also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice

But then you really got me thinking about different types of Jewish holidays and how they come about, so thank you for that!

Because it’s often the little details that either make a story super powerful or kind of nonsensical, I think it would be a good idea to decide what type of holiday is being created here:

A full-blown chag with restrictions on labour and halachic obligations? These are commanded in Torah and new ones can’t be added.

A minor yom tov with halachic obligations but no restrictions? These were instituted by the rabbis prior to the destruction of the Temple, so again new ones can’t be added.

A public holiday or equivalent? This would usually be declared by the Knesset in Israel, and filter to the rest of the Jewish world from there.

A community-based yom tov with specific customs only for people in the know, such as certain Chasidic groups celebrating the birthdays of their deceased leaders? I asked around, but no one can really tell me how these holidays get started, which is probably a good indication that they arise quite organically from a group of people who all just feel that it should be celebrated. Probably not created by a single person, as such.

Something she runs from her bakery, not religion-based, but more like a day of doing special products and deals the way many small businesses do on their anniversary?

Now, if the people of a modern-day town were actually saved by a real live Golem, that would arguably be the most overt miracle for many generations, so there would be a decent chance of options 3 and/or 4 happening. It’s entirely plausible that there could be special foods for this day that become a tradition, including Golem cookies. People who directly benefited might also return to the site where the Golem fought the monster and recite the prayer, ‘Blessed is Hashem, Master of the Universe, Who performed a miracle for me in this place.’

Alternatively, if it’s important that your MC created the holiday, something like option 5 might be the best. Hopefully this will still fulfil what you need: you describe her as incredibly skilled, so I can imagine the day when she goes all out on the Golem cookies being one of the most exciting events of the year for the townspeople, just because her baking is that good. Plus, they already have a personal stake in the Golem’s sacrifice, so I definitely think it could be a thing without being an official holiday. Also, if she is outside of an all-Jewish environment, don’t forget that she would have to decide whether to commemorate the anniversary in the Hebrew calendar or the local one.

Coming back to the cookies, sorry if we’re getting a little repetitive on this point! But I don’t see the cookies being torn limb from limb as part of a celebration. First of all, this doesn’t sound like a very celebratory thing to do, to say the least. Can you imagine explaining that to a three-year-old on their first Yom HaGolem? They would be terrified! (I don’t read this suggestion as accidental anti-Semitism so much as getting carried away with a metaphor, which I’m sure as writers we have all done!)

But also, it’s worth pointing out that our commemorative foods aren’t usually that literal. If you think about hamantaschen, maror, or apple in honey, they’re all symbols. That’s not to say that having Golem-shaped cookies is a problem, as this sounds like just a bit of fun that the MC is having and not something that is directly at odds with Judaism or Jewish culture. But it’s worth bearing in mind that the more literal you go from there in terms of tying the cookies to the event they commemorate, the less culturally aligned your holiday food becomes.

Finally, about the Golem protecting non-Jewish people: I like this idea! There’s a stereotype that we only use whatever is at our disposal to help ourselves and other Jewish people, so a Golem being created by Jews but helping others as well is a big plus for me. Of course, as has already been pointed out, this would be an odd choice if her Saving The World team were anti-Semitic or otherwise disrespectful to her/her community, but I don’t think you were headed that way!

-Shoshi

I have to come back in here just to squee over the phrase “Yom HaGolem.” Well done :D

--Shira

#asks #Jewish #dnd #golem #food #Jewish stereotypes

[lifeofkaze]

Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

 *

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.  

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

*

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that  had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

  Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

#harry potter #hphm #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #L writes #by request

[thompsonstessa-moved]

Måneskin interview for TVN24 - english translation

Few days ago an interview (on video) with Måneskin came out in Poland on TVN24 channel, sadly its paywalled on their site (and the tv only showed a bit).

However, I got a transcript of it and decided to translate it for you guys :D

Also, while the interview took place in Poland (day before the Sopot festival), the interviewer knew italian, so they talked in italian and the TV translated it to polish (and dubbed them!!! :( ). So I hope theres nothing that like, got lost in translation twice.

Also its 2am now so the translation might not be the most perfect, but you'll definitely get the gist of what they were saying!!

The whole thing is under the 'keep reading' :)

First of all – congratulations on the San Remo and Eurovision wins! I just want you to know how happy you made my mom – she listens to your music for 3 years now. How are you feeling today?

D: We feel good, tho we’re tired as well. We travel a lot, but we’re happy. We meet new fans, new opportunities are coming up. It’s really nice.

How did you guys meet? When looking at you, you have this sense of unity and just good vibes. How did it all start?

D: We know each other for a long time.

V: Yeah, Since middle school. Me, Thomas and Damiano were playing in different bands, but they weren’t the best. Thet all disbanded. Then we posted in a facebook group ’looking for a musician in rome’ and found Ethan. Since then we started doing music for real. We devoted ourselves to the music, and… the rest just came naturally.

E: Yes. We knew it’s gonna be our life since day one.

What did you say In the post, when looking for the fourth member of the band?

V: I wrote ”looking for a drummer for an indie rock/new wave band”.

E: That’s true, there was new wave in it too.

I’m sure a lot of people replied.

V: No, actually only Ethan replied. But we found that post lately and now it’s full of comments like „why didn’t i reply back then!”

T: Ethan was really lucky.

What did your parents thought about your choice (to pursue music)? A rockstar lifestyle isn’t exactly what every parent wants for their child.

D: No, our parents are really content with it. They know what we do makes us happy, and of course we visit them whenever we can. And they are proud of us as well, because they see we’re happy and independent, travelling all over the Europe, and hopefully all over the world. I think every parent wants their kid to be satisfied and happy.

And friends? Are you still friends with the same people, or did the friendships fell apart?

D: We still have the same friends. And we’re sure that way that they are our real friends.

Do they understand your current lifestyle, that you can dissapear for a year?

V: Yeah, they all understand that this is our job, that our life is a bit irregular, but, like everything, it has its ups and downs.

E: Exactly, they understand, but they also miss us. Sometimes my mom calls and says ”I miss you, you’ve been gone for so long”. It’s normal. But what’s important is that we feel the support from our families and friends. They understand that you need to sacrifice a lot, to achieve a lot.

Can you still easily go ands grab a beer in the Rome neighbourhoods (districts?) of Pigneto or Trastevere? Or is it impossible now?

V: The only truly safe place for us is Trastevere, because we always lived there. Everyone there knows us and they don’t care we’re famous.

D: But I have to admit that since they whole Eurovision thing we still didn’t come back, so it’s hard to say for sure.

T: But let’s say that its a safe space.

Don’t you worry that now that whole world knows you, you’ll be followed by tourists?

V: Oh my god, you’re right, we didn’t think about it!

D: When we came back to Rome for one day I got excited when one tourist stopped me. ”Cool, I got stopped by a tourist” – now it’s normal.

T: It gives us joy.

V: It’s beautiful.

E: Wonderful.

V: We’re not complaining.

D: Long live the tourists!! (that one was kinda weird to translate)

You started by playing on Via Del Corso, now you’re international stars. I’m wondering, do you still feel the same when playing together as before? Do you have fun making music together? Or do you miss the simpler times and would love to go back to Via del Corso and play something spontaneously?

V: No, we’re still spontaneus. It’s really important for us, and we make sure people who work with us understand that. We’re really adamant about it. Music needs to remain beautiful, spontaneus and natural thing for us. We never worked with someone who would write lyrics for us. No one ever told us what we can and cannot do. We still feel the exact same feelings in studio and on stage that we felt when we were just getting started. It’s the purest thing for us. We want to have fun and feel free to express ourselves.

T: Exactly, especially that music is our driving force. Without music, we wouldn't have all the beautiful things we do. We focus only on music, and the rest comes to us.

Let’s imagine a situation where you just started ma king a song, and everyone has a different idea for it. How do you work that out? And who’s idea wins most of the time?

V: There are two options in this situation: we try every idea, and if none works, we throw the song away.

E: It doesn’t work. (that one is kinda untranslateable?)

V: Or we really work on it and fight till the end.

D: Exactly. Sometimes, but that pretty rare, one of us has a particular idea on how to do the song, and manages to convince us (to the idea). but it’s not an order, it’s a dialogue. An attempt to make everyone think the same way. I need to say that it was much harder in the past, because we were still searching for our sound, and each tried to push the rest into their way of thinking. But now we’re more aware of what we want to create, so it’s coming out in much more natural way.

E: Faster.

D: Not really faster, because it takes a lot of time to create new songs, but it’s easier, we don’t argue that much anymore.

T: It’s really cool, because everyone gives something from themselves to the song. (my brain kinda blanked here, sorry xD) Just like Damiano said, there are days when Vic has one idea for a song, I have another idea, Damiano has his own idea, Ethan as well… But it’s a whole creative process where we all contribute, and it’s pretty stimulating.

D: Everyone feels appreciated. It’s really important when it’s four of us.

What are the biggest signs that you became huge international stars?

V: We really realize that when we’re having concerts. Where we can see our audience and we can see that people really care about us. That they took time and money to listen to us. Now that we’re travelling across Europe, the amount of people stopping us on the streets really shows how many people know about us. People are waiting for us in front of our hotels. We didn’t think it would be like that. But we feel nothing but affection and warmth from them.

How was Eurovision for you from the backstage? Anything atypical?

D: No, it was all great. We played ping-pong.

V: Did rehearsals.

E: Interviews.

D: Yes, interviews. And ping-pong.

When you we’re in Paris, did anyone mention the drug allegations that came from French people during the finale, that kinda became a diplomatic incident?

D: Yeah, you could say that it was mentioned.

They don’t resent you? Or maybe you resent France?

D: No. To feel that about the whole country would be too much of a generalization. Of course there were people who were really vocal about it, but we don’t feel any sort of resentment. It’s in the past for us. We knew they were just primitive accusations. We did what it deserved – talked a bit about it, I volunteered to do the test, and they (the accusators) were sure it had to be false. It got ridiculous, so we just stopped talking about it. We want to talk about out music, our art. The rest is just meaningless.

Right now, LGBTQ rights are a hot topic both in Italy and in Poland. You mentioned freedom of being different and being yourself on several occasions. Do you think you can change the world on this matter as musicians?

D: Maybe not change the world, but we can definitely contribute. Speak the voice of those who can’t. We have a huge following on social media, on stage, on TV, so we feel responsibility to talk about what’s important to us. We hope that something will change because of us, but we don’t consider ourselves as the ones to set the standards of justice and change. We do what we can do, and if we know enough about it, we talk about it. We don’t want to put someone elses words into ours mouths.

#maneskin #måneskin #damiano david #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #maneskin interview #måneskin interview #*mine

[dreamlandcreations]

(If this is not public info feel free to ignore me) About that Billy fic with the autistic reader 🥺👉👈 What's that gonna look like and why why did you go with this scenario?

Ignore you? No way!!!

The not at all short answer:

I like experimenting (and I'm probably using all sorts of wrong terms, forgive me)

With the fictional characters that already exist I try to remain in character as much as possible (it can tremendously bother me when I read something so against what I saw in them, it's just such a turn off for me I sometimes stop at mid fic).

I always wonder at how you can explore a character in ways you never thought possible and still stay true to its core nature.

Just to mention a few: @youvebeenlivingfictional does this with so many characters that I literary cannot keep up. @cinebration did justice to some incredibly complex and hard-to-write characters. Or there's @thefact0rygirl, who works with different aspects of what we saw of Boba Fett and manages to come up with something new all the time and it still hits true.

There are so many exceptionally talented writers I follow, it would be hard to list why I adore reading their works and love how they not only entertain but inspire as well. And I got a little off-topic, so getting back to your question...

There is only so much I'm willing to bend the characters but I always feel like adding something extra to the reader's characterisation too. Actually, I started with trying to write Y/N inserts with zero description but it just felt off for me. It didn't feel real at all, if you know what I mean.

And that's what I want to do most of the time, even though I'm not satisfied with how descriptions of the scenes turn out.

There is no such a thing as a clean reader insert, there always be some little details that others cannot identify with but giving the reader some pointers about their character in a particular story gives me the feeling of an rp book or a video game where you start with some basics and you can explore the rest from your own perspective.

I did something similar with Nathan and the asexual reader for a kinktober prompt. The main purpose of these would be about creating something where the reader can really experience something new.

What I mean, the aim was that if you are asexual you could identify with the character and still "do" something you would probably never do irl, you can think about how you'd be able to find something else in sex and if you are not asexual you can see a new point of view that hopefully still gives you that smutty experience just with a little twist.

Billy is such an intricate character behind that pretty surface, he is probably the worst case of a sociopath on loose. Which is sad, because you can see where his life has gone off-road and it would have only required someone who really cared for him and stood up for and against him if necessary to stop that colossal pile of shit decisions he made.

Actually, I chose him for autistic!reader because it would be a really interesting dynamic as they could share a lot of traits and still be two sides of a coin.

I think it will be a two-part-thingy, to divide the point of view more than I did with the Nathan one shot. With the titles of What you need for the first part where it really delves into being on the spectrum and What you want as the second part with the reader experimenting with sex and Billy having a connection to someone that he requires to stay grounded. I'm thinking a sort of open ending too.

#asked #answer #ramblings #wip stuff #billy russo #autistic!reader #turned into something else in the middle #creator appreciation #feeling inspired #spoilers but not really