#hope you find more fics like this though

[omgspnfanfiction]

hey! I was wondering if you have any recs for fics with ball worship? I was weirdly enthralled with it in Only True Believers Get the Cream and I need more lol😅

Hi, it's great to hear that my fic might have inspired a new kink and that you enjoyed the fic! 🥰 But I'm sorry to say that I don't have any recs for ball worship. I will try to write more fics in the future involving that!

#requests #sorry I couldn't help #hope you find more fics like this though #maybe in the future #only true believers get the cream

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #ollixallu #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw #everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖 #it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏 #but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂 #so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭 #some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌 #(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀) #some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out! #(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3) #however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀 #there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone #one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨ #also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3 #probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol #anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3

[loppiopio]

the chances of the people seeing this aren't super likely so this is highly inefficient but i'm too afraid to approach people personally…. yet i've been burning with the need to express my gratitude for the tags i've received individually somehow and figured, i could do it the way i do best. in the tags 😅

(sorted by most recent) (i capped the limit hard here) (some ✂️✂️ had to be done 😔) (i still like this format a lot though) (might do this again in the future idk would people like that??) (i hope it's not mortifying for anyone……..)

it's sorta the way i like it, indirect and unimposing, even if it's kinda. wieldy. but it's just on my blog so anything goes right? although in saying that, i am open to being imposed on. like if someone wants to talk about aci or something, like other fic?? i'm a big fic fiend. or anything else lol not sure what else you'd wanna chat about since so much of the stuff i've put out is just. about fic. but hey, if you're a person i don't mind being approached :>

(lol the way i've made this like a *throws out a bunch of paper slips* find your's 🎉) (might be obnoxious hm) (sorry...) (find your's if you want though 🫡)

#i said a thing #@glaciesdraco i'm so glad someone is appreciating the brilliance of my shitpost yes i went so hard on that and it's you too?? #i enjoy your ramblings and hcs a lot (if that one gift art based on your hcs wasn't telling) i hope my indirect appreciation can reach you #two years ago for a gift exchange i had [get them drunk] as one of the things on my wishlist and linked your post with it because they're < #@miyukiwynter your tag was fun and cute it made me smile :) oh no the boy! #@spooky-sordid your enthusiasm for the 🥥 post despite zero context is so fun to me i'm happy my niche things connect with you like that :] #@scrambledshizaya oops! all aci posts with even more on the way sorry it's all i got #the energy of your tags is very fun though i hope to bring a little pain with the 📸⚠️ comp and loverboy cringe is so izaya indeed #@gay-deer your all caps enthusiasm is so so sweet to me thank you for loving them!! also you bring fun things to my dash so thanks for that #@vi-138 you haven't said anything so i hope you don't mind.... i've seen you in my notifs a few times and i'm appreciating it very much :> #@fweamy i like your energy and omg you like the way i draw them?? no wayyy i'm so flattered you like my portrayal of them? that's such high #this makes me feel better about my style like actually since i spend a looooot a lotta time on every little thing so it can appeal to me #and i'm not confident at all but i do try very hard to achieve aspects of how i like to see them so i'm glad it seems to resonate with you #i draw all too slowly but you shall be in my thoughts as i fight to deliver more of these scrunkly scrimbos 🫡 #@zamtik you think it's awesome? :0 wow thanks! also thanks for appreciating the 🎀🔪 i made that not a lot of people acknowledge heh #@gay4and2high i like that you acknowledged the content of the fic i love the content of this fic i need to acknowledge it so bad 🗣️ #@stupidusernamepolicy idk if you meant for your words to read like this but i'm still so so flattered by the tags you left on that post 🥺🥺 #idk what you actually think of the fic so i can literally only imagine your enthusiasm for it but i think i feel some of it in those tags 🧠 #and you seem to really like the post in particular so?? thank you c: #@whamss no way are you sure you love my art?? thank you i'm glad you find them cute and see so much personality in them too?? #you pointed out shizuo in particular !! yesss i slaved away soooo tirelessly on him (except i was very tired) i'm glad he is appreciated #his face... it needed to convey so much...... sad puppy dog look #the humouring of izaya's antics that soften him in light bemusement “mouth slightly open probably as close to a smile as it would ever get” #and thank you for enjoying loverboy cringe with me he is exactly that #@soultiio thank youuu i appreciate this sorta connection we have going on where we communicate through tags a little <3 #i like the comments your affection for the boys is very sweet thank you #@pennyloni thanks for the obligatory shizaya reblog #@pineapplething hihi!!! #@demon-of-ikebukuro i take joy in all the appreciation for the comm :> also you have a fic i'd like to try someday bc it looks interesting! #@churroful you haven't said much since but thanks for finding the 🎀🔪 sexy >:D i appreciate you in my notifs and i hope you enjoyed aci!!

[veryspecialfungus]

your intern fic recs. give me them 🤲

The thing about that is, well...

I…fell like I need to give a little disclaimer here: When it comes to fanfic I am both unpleasable and unreasonable. I have impossible, exacting standards for fiction of all kinds and a longstanding alliance with my back button. I am a goddamn fanfic cat, turning up my nose at anything that's not EXACTLY to my liking. It's too hot, it's too cold, it smells funny, it's too emotional, it's not emotional enough, the characters are OOC, the characters aren't pushed far enough out of their comfort zone, the prose is too simple, the prose is too flowery, the formatting is hard to read, the dialogue's not right, is that a GRAMMATICAL ERROR, etc etc.

That said, I can probably scrounge up some recs...

OK I guess I can start with one I can't even start to pretend to be unbiased about: 2hoots! Especially the Junior Agent Case Files and ESPECIALLY especially The Paris Affair. I have beta'd for him as he has beta'd for me, and I love watching his stuff come together behind the scenes because it's all great. Also a card carrying member of the Norma Natividad Defense Squad, which certainly appeals to me personally. (There are dozens of us! DOZENS!!!)

Psychic Scouts Shouldn’t Apply Hair Dye Unsupervised by KibaSniper. KibaSniper has one metric fuckton of Psychonauts fic and I'm not going to go through them all individually. I'm singling this one out in particular because I like small moments between the Natividad sisters. If that isn't to your liking...well, there's enough there with enough variety that the odds are in your favor.

Pit Stop by fizzysugarwrites. The interns and the Aquatos are uniquely suited for a Band AU and this one nails the character interactions quite handily. The dialogue crackles and the character interplays are so much fun. This is one that you need to be logged in to see, but I'm assuming that at this point most people have an AO3 account that wants one.

Snow Day by the_angst_alchemist. Just a cute little scene of Raz getting to enjoy a snow day with the interns. Doesn't need to be more than that, yeah?

#psychonauts #If your favorite fic isn't on my list...sorry #I probably yelled THIS ISN'T MY FANCY FEAST IN A CRYSTAL GOBLET WITH A PARSLEY SPRIG and knocked it off the table #Please know that I also don't live up to my own standards like...ever #I am the exhausting auteur director yelling at my scriptwriter (myself) and micromanaging my set designers (myself) and sound designers #(Who are also myself) #I hope I'm ok to my editors (betas) though #I could have sworn I had more than this #I am also really bad at bookmarking things I like #'of course I can find it later of course I'll remember' YOU (meaning me) IDIOT

[merakiui]

you dreamt scara kissed you 😳😳😳 uuuu that's so sweet...

once I had a dream that azul gave me his credit card to use for some reason and I bought something really small (like worth 8 bucks or so) and ended up calling him on my phone and being super adamant that I would pay him back and how I really didn't want to spend anything in the first place. I remember he sounded really distracted and kind of hushed, so I asked if I called at a bad time or if he was busy to which he replied "....no, of course not. I'm completely free" turns out he was most definitely not free, and I called him while he was in a business meeting. and being the simp he is, he picked it up right away in front of everyone before leaving the room lmao

I wish I had more blorbo dreams esp romantic ones like you had with scara but my brain would rather it show me getting chased endlessly instead 👉👈

Holding that dream close to my heart!! <3 it was so sweet, too. We were holding eye contact for the longest time and he whispered, "Can I kiss you?" with the most sincere, softest expression ever and omg!!! It was a romantic film moment! >0<

Aaaa that's so cute!!!! Azul will always be a simp no matter where he is. (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) How generous of him to lend his credit card!!!! He is a sweetheart when he truly cares hehe!! I like that he will always choose you even when he's in a business meeting. Business is not nearly as important as answering a phone call from his crush. >:D

I wish I could have more romantic dreams as well! Although speaking of being chased, I do remember I had a dream where Floyd kept chasing me down and confessing over and over. I'm pretty sure that dream ended with lots of kisses lol. I am not immune to the love language of eels. There was also a vivid dream I had in which I pulled Halloween Jade back when I was fighting for my life trying to summon him, and when I logged into twst that morning (fully expecting to see Halloween Jade) I was disheartened to realize it had only happened in the dream. T_T

#twisted chit chat #dubioussupernova #i think i may have to write more fluff with scara after having that cute dream :D #he will definitely need it after the agony i will put him through in the upcoming mouchey fic #although i'm very tempted to write a plot in which a god (nahida) gives scaramouche a second chance after taking pity on him #so she allows him to redo his entire life #and he accepts her offer (though he scoffs at her sympathy) #but in his attempt to right wrongs and get proper successful revenge he loses the only one who truly cared for him (his darling) #and so now he has to go through this new version of his life in search of you #all while clinging to the hope that you'll recognize him and love him all over again #each time he finds himself unsuccessful nahida allows him to restart but things only get more obscure with every reset #and scara learns that revenge isn't worth it if he can't have love #it sounds more like angst than fluff but if i ever write it the ending will definitely be fluffy #scara deserves it <3 #aaaaa i'm rambling please excuse it orz

[designernishiki]

You asked for a fic rec so I’ll toss this one at ya: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46767358?view_full_work=true Stick through the formatting for the characterization, tone, and really the whole vibe of this fic. I haven’t been able to get the bathroom call between Daigo and Majima out of my head for weeks since I read it with how naturally it all flows. My own little Daigo characterization booklet to review when I feel like I need a refresher on him.

so I may have stayed up until 6am reading this (would’ve slept earlier but I couldn’t stop reading it) and hgggahaghhhhaggahshhhhhhhh that was one of the most well-characterized fics I’ve ever read what the fuck. like the differences in how each character speaks (both tone-wise and in differing levels of authenticity) and how they speak to specific others (the daigo and majima dyanmic specifically- how they actually take into account how long they’ve been working really closely- SO good), the mental anguish and chaos vs the overwhelming emptiness of being daigo dojima but no longer The 6th Chairman Daigo Dojima……….I could keep going but I think you get it.

tbh I’d been wanting to write something exploring a similar set of dynamics/situation (post-kiryu’s fake death, interactions with haruka, daigo, and/or majima specifically, reflecting on his shortcomings while acknowledging the heavy Grief left behind) but now I’m like. well I still could but this was so well written in regards to daigo and haruka that, as far as something between those two goes, I don’t feel the need to.

thanks for the recommendation! my brain is broken now (affectionate)

#rambling #fics #fic rec #there’s a little bit of minedai in there via flashback but I don’t know if im gonna put this in my minedai tag cause it’s really #not tecccchnically a minedai fic. it’s just. a daigo-centric fic/study more than anything #my favorite more lighthearted moment in this story is daigo talking to haruka in Okinawa after like 3 years and hearing about her #‘situationship’ with yuta and how it’s just more convenient to tell people they’re a legit couple and daigo’s immediate response on impulse #is just. ‘that must be nice. I mean that you can do that. if it were two guys or two girls or something you wouldn’t be able to do that.’ #or something like that and simultaneously sweating because he has no fucking idea why he’s saying that and can’t find a way to abort #my only critique is that I was hoping he’d come out to her (probably on the scene after that where it’s just them sitting on the deck) #and it wouldn’t even have to be a Big Thing it’s just. it felt like it was leading up to that (whether coming out on purpose or on accident) #but ah well #don’t get me wrong I think she could probably figure it out on her own based on the fact that daigo’s never had a girlfriend to her #knowledge and is in his 40s + that weird little gay tangent he went on earlier out of the blue #if anyone could pick it up though context clues and hints it’d be haruka and akiyama The Investigators. and oh no. looks like that’s #exactly who he’s stuck with #id love to see an update cause of this oh mannnn #(if anyone could pick it up it’d be those two + also majima but I kinda figured at this point majima would almost certainly already know #they seem like they have a mutual (possibly unspoken) recognition of one another on that front. based a little on what daigo says about #‘when kiryu says jump you say how high’ and majima floundering a little before admitting ‘you know I can’t resist those big #brown puppydog eyes…’ like i know that’s not too on the nose but it’s enough of a casual acknowledgement to Me that it feels… idk it just #feels like they Know. it just makes sense. and I hope they do cause it’d feel a little less lonely and terrifying to be gay in that world if #that were the case. yet another thing making it feel like majima’s a way more viable parent figure to him than kiryu fr fr…… #anyway I could keep going forever so I should probably stop #I’ve never considered how daigo would interact with akiyama and now they’ve got me intrigued. I really hope they update this with something #daigo #I really think a chunk of this fanbase (particularly The Queers) understand daigo as a character better than rgg studio does. and cares more

[virtualcarrot]

You: enjoying the feeling of completion and satisfaction in finishing a fic and sharing it Reader: would love to read more of it! :3

#it's not ill intended at all #it comes from a pretty positive place (i enjoyed -> i want more of thing i enjoy) #but i find it so frustrating?! #can't we already have this and enjoy that this exists? #it's not like it's impossible to tell a writer you're excited to read what they make #as far as I'm concerned I absolutely do not mind a 'omg loved this can't wait for the next chapter!' on a chaptered fic #i mean it's a CHAPTERED fic #it's up for the par #(though I tend to me more irritable where comments of the 'hope you write more' sorts are concerned) #(like yeah you should HOPE I don't drop this and turn it into an eternal WIP just out of spite) #and t's not like i myself haven't done it before #or an equivalent #not free from sin etc. #but i'm realizing just how common and '''normalized''' it is #to just request that fic writers devote time and effort to just producing stuff #and yeah on the other side of the reader/writer coin #I find it grating #life as a carrot #fandom

[carmenlire]

Tempered Blade

yeong was raised to be the unbreakable sword since the age of four, right? He started training since before he knew what it all would entail-- and then he went into the naval academy right? As someone expected to be the king’s guard one day, he did stints in several different areas, including extensive special ops training. A lot of what’s taught is only spoken of in vague murmurs and yeong’s never mentioned that a few of his scars aren’t from missions or childhood foibles.

I can’t get the idea of yeong undergoing special training one week when he’s-- 18? 19? He’s read all the material on how to stop himself from spilling state secrets. He’s read POW testimony so he has some idea of what to expect when the beatings start. Still, it’s just his luck that Gon decided to visit that weekend, not knowing that Yeong’s latest tribulation is interrogation and torture, another layer of iron being forged into the fire that will make yeong the unbreakable sword he swore to become.

Imagining Gon, visiting his best friend. His plans for the next two days consist of nothing but ribbing Yeong about his crush-- surely he’ll be crushing on one of the pretty cadets in his class-- and letting yeong lead him around and show him the ropes (like he wasn’t in the academy just a few years prior).

Gon, asking where Yeong is. Gon, being told that Cadet Jo is unavailable and will be until further notice. Gon, as king, getting that haughty undertone that makes the person in his crosshairs realize exactly who they’re talking to. Gon, being told that Yeong is in the middle of an assignment that can’t be interrupted. Gon, demanding to be taken to Yeong, as a tendril of foreboding curls up his spine at the way none of the officers manage to look him in the eye.

The room yeong’s in is in the bowels of one of the academy’s oldest buildings. Three walls are impenetrable cinder block while the fourth is a two way mirror. When gon walks into the observation room, it takes everything he has to choke down the command to release him, the order to behead every single person responsible for the sight before him.

Keeping still, wrenching his implacable mask into place, is the hardest thing he’s had to do in fifteen years.

Because there’s his best friend, his yeong, but he’s barely recognizable. He’s sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, head hanging low to rest against his sternum. His hair’s hanging over his forehead in a way that thirteen year old Yeong had declared as too unprofessional for the future captain of the king’s guard. Gon is studying him so closely that he sees a drop of sweat slide down the edge of his jaw, spilling onto his chest.

Gon bites his lip viciously enough to taste blood. The sight of Yeong’s chest makes Gon’s own ache in tandem.

Yeong is shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. His abdomen is covered in bruising purple. There are angry welts over his heart, lacerations down his sides. 

His feet are bare on the concrete floor, tendons standing out starkly.  His hands are tied together behind the back of the chair, the cut of his triceps almost obscene in the fluorescent light.

From here, Gon’s eyes trace the way Yeong’s breathing. It looks painful, each inhale a rattling labor of need.

Each exhale forfeited like it’s all he has left to give.

There’s an officer standing to the side, wearing a pair of black latex gloves with a face mask to match. The dull sheen of fresh blood catches the harsh light from above. His voice is detached, dispassionate as he asks, “Where’s his Majesty? All I need is a street address, anything.”

The tableau stills for a brief moment and Gon holds his breath. He has no idea how long this has been going on-- hours? days?-- and in that moment, half of him just wants yeong to give up, to break.

The other half always knew that wouldn’t happen, though.

Yeong’s back is a languid slouch in the chair. Slowly, he raises his head and Gon’s breath catches for the second time in as many minutes.

There’s a cut high on Yeong’s cheekbone, one of his eyes bruised almost black. His lip is split, a smear of rusted blood just under where Gon knows a dimple peeks out when his best friend deigns laugh at one of his terrible jokes.

It happens almost in slow motion and Gon’s eyes eagerly study yeong’s mouth-- the way the smile tilts up at the corner, scornful in its daring. Gon’s gaze catches, rapturous, on the way the corner of yeong’s eyes crinkle just the faintest bit, more impression than anything else.

Even from here, the look in his eye would stay lesser men.

Yeong raises his eyes to meet the professor cum interrogator. His smile widens just enough to antagonize. “Fuck you.”

It’s the voice that stills Gon even further. It’s hoarse, a rough edge to it like he’s never heard before. The words seem wrenched from some deep cavern in his chest, behind his ribs, somewhere no one’s been allowed before.

Most of Gon is appalled. Still. He won’t ever admit it but he finds it undeniably attractive and it makes something ugly in him preen-- the insouciance, the sincerity, the sheer strength his best friend possesses.

Before the last syllable falls to the floor between them, the officer’s hauling his fist back for one hell of a right hook. The shock of it reverberates up Gon’s own vertebrae, one by one and this time, it’s darkness coming up to wrap around his lungs to squeeze hard.

He known for years that Yeong will suffer for him, because of him-- but to see anyone hurt his best friend, his Yeong, makes a piece of Gon absolutely wild with fury, with the need to retaliate, swift and sure.

Head snapping to the side with the force of the punch, everything’s silent for a moment, everyone waiting to see what Yeong will do next.

For his part, Yeong just takes his time facing forward again. He looks down and if Gon didn’t know better he might just label his posture defeated. Pride surges though him, though, because he knows Yeong better than anyone else in the world.

Yeong’s mouth drops open. Gon’s eyes don’t catch on the fullness of his lower lip, bloodied and bitten raw-- don’t linger on the dull shine of his teeth, the way Yeong’s tongue darts out and doesn’t flinch at what must be the taste of sharp copper.

Instead, he watches calmly with the other officers as Yeong suddenly breathes in sharply through clenched teeth before spitting right between his interrogator’s boots. It’s more blood than saliva.

The officer wrenches Yeong’s head back with a hand fisted in sweat-soaked locks. 

Yeong is calm as his eyes meet the officer’s. There’s nothing amused about his expression now. 

So quiet that Gon catches himself leaning closer to hear, Yeong says, “I’m going to kill you.”

The officer raises a brow but doesn’t get a chance to speak before Yeong continues, still deadly calm, “And I swear to God, you’ll kill me before you touch a hair on his majesty’s fucking head.”

In the observation room, all of the witnessing officer’s breath a quiet sigh of relief. The interrogator, for his part, just sarcastically pats Yeong’s cheek a few times hard enough to sting. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

The interrogator leaves the room without a backwards glance.

Gon studies Yeong, now that he’s alone in the stark room. There’s something beautiful about the sight before him but Gon knows he can’t let himself tread those waters, not right now and maybe not ever.

The interrogating officer steps into the observation room a few moments later, taking his mask off to reveal a proud smile. “Jo sure is exceeding our expectations, isn’t he?”

When there’s not an immediate response, he looks over just to pale at the sight of Gon.

Gon doesn’t have to clear his throat but it’s a near thing when he finally breaks the tense silence in the observation room. “How long has this been going on?”

The officer next to him– Lieutenant Jung– keeps a measured voice as he replies, “Jo is on day four. For the first trial, we allow up to seven days. If Jo is still in play by the end of one week, we end the exercise and he’s moved into recovery.”

A second officer clears his throat before adding, “First timers usually last less than three days. Cadet Jo is one of the toughest men I’ve had the honor of training, Your Majesty.”

There’s a lot of things that Gon wants to say to that. How dare you tops the list. A close second is by King’s order, end this at once. A distant third is I knew Yeong would make me proud.

All he asks instead is, “How long is recovery?”

The interrogator rocks back on his heels in an uncharacteristic display of unease. “It looks like Jo might make it the full seven days. With that amount of dehydration, malnutrition, and wound infliction we estimate three weeks, Your Majesty.”

Bringing his hands behind his back, Gon squeezes them into fists so tight his palms sting. He feels the ache of it in his wrists.

He nods once. “I’ll leave it to you, then.”

His voice remains level. This is what he signed Yeong up for all those years ago, Gon thinks with vicious self disgust.

It’s terrifying realizing just how a child’s promise has become a man’s burden. It’s exhilarating knowing that he made the best decision back then. The only decision, really. Yeong’s never let him down and Gon knows there’s not a single universe in existence where that’s even possible.

It’s humbling to see with his own eyes, in such a visceral way, that Yeong has not only stood by his choice from all those years ago but has gone on to renew that oath every day, every minute he suffers for the sake of a mere mortal.

For him. Not the king but Lee Gon, the man behind the kingdom.

That kind of devotion is awe inspiring. Gon promises himself to never take it for granted, to never forget for a moment the breadth of trust and fealty that Yeong carries for him.

It takes every ounce of strength not to call a halt to the exercise, not to sweep into the room and take Yeong into his arms and carry him to the nearest physician. There’s a part of Gon that’s surprised he manages to stop himself.

In the way that an eight year old knew how to calm a child, however, a king knows when to step back.

When the one thing he wants is– and will remain– out of his reach.

With a child’s negligence, he placed Yeong on this path. With a king’s stratagem, he resigns them both to shouldering yet one more weight in the name of their friendship, for the sake of the crown.

Gon affords himself one last look through the glass, at a Yeong who looks beaten but not broken. 

A man, stark in his devotion, overwhelming in his fortitude.

Gon ignores the others in the room. He raises a hand to the mirrored glass, feels the echo of warmth along his palm.

Allowing himself just a moment, Gon turns to the door faster than he’d like. Hand on the knob, he hesitates before opening it. His voice is soft as he says, “I trust in your discretion, gentlemen.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Gon leaves the room without a backwards glance. He strides down the corridor, back to his motorcade– all without a single word. His guards stay silent, knowing what their king just witnessed.

Three weeks and three days later, the palace gets a call.

The messenger is patched through to Gon’s personal line. Gon doesn’t say anything when he picks up and the voice on the other end doesn’t wait for him to start.

“Jo is out of recovery. Minimal scarring expected and preliminary psychological evaluation passed. Next trial will be twenty-one days. It is scheduled for the end of the year.”

Gone hangs up first. He never says a word to Yeong about it.

Years later– once Yeong has left his position as Captain of the Royal Guard in favor of a promotion, as Gon likes to tease– Gon will finally take the opportunity to kiss the delicate arch of a scar along Yeong’s cheekbone, will press lips honeyed with veneration over a jagged line along his husband’s thigh.

The price of reverence is a king’s ransom. Gon happily spends his days with the knowledge that he’ll never be able to clear himself of this most profound debt. Still, he promises himself for the thousandth time, kneeling before Yeong, that he’ll make sure they both enjoy him trying.

#listen i don't know what possessed me #i literally thought i'd just write a little paragraph about gon finding yeong during yeong's academy years #but then before i knew it? i was writing like a whole fic? #i'm not sure if i should post this to ao3 #especially since the first part is more descriptive/meta you know #ahhh they make me crazy #i hope if anyone reads this they enjoy it! #i live for yeong demonstrating the depth of his love and devotion to gon #without hesitation without holding back #and gon being struck by it every time #and promising himself to never let it be for nothing #also this is pre relationship obvi #though we get the hints at the end!!!!! #and i hope yall liked the hints that they totally end up together! #ahh #the king eternal monarch #tkem fic #tkem #lee gon x jo yeong #my writing #tempered blade #content warnings for violence?

[starswallowingsea]

got a sudden anxiety spike about having to move out after next summer but did a quick google of rent prices in the area i plan on moving to and. its not unaffordable for one person. $600/month isnt that bad. even at $15/hr 35 hours a week at my current job i make twice that which will still allow me to put money on my loans, buy groceries (~$120/month) and get little things for myself every now and then. though i wont be saving that much for other things...

#i'm hoping to find something higher paying for the off season though at least #maybe i can find work at a retirement home or smth that gets benefits and whatnot #and uuuuu anyway. trying to tell myself its not scary but augh #rn i'm making like. 1800 a month? between two jobs but honestly i'd make more if i just did 5 days at my higher paying job #instead of splitting time between two jobs when one pays half of the other u know #but noooooooo my parents were like you need a second job!!!!!!! fuck you #shay speaks #anyway.... im gonna try and get some writing rqs on my other blog and work on my fic #WHY IS THIS SO SCARY. WHY WHY WHY #uuuuu its less expensive than when i was living in apartments for college #honestly i prefer like. doing just two big payments for rent like i did w my second place #instead of monthly just bc it tends to be cheaper to do that #and i can put aside money over the next whatever months for that big payment #but augh that big payment hurts when it goes through

[pyrriax]

yk what i just realized?

i accidentally wrote pandora with a slightly altered version of my issues pvnjkdml

i noticed it but not All of it

#haunted ecosystem #i forget sometimes that the way *i* think it's the norm and thusly i'll write characters that follow my thought patterns and well. #you wind up with a lot of paranoia lol #like i knew i unintentionally made pandora autistic-coded but yeah i also mightve given him the paranoia & delusions & hallucinations too #though the latter was partially influenced it was still like. organic ig? thats terrible phrasing. #unrelated but why is it so hard to find more. non-specific paranoia positivity posts #like i know its a symptom but cmon. #anyways what if i wrote a fic and actually posted it anon. what if i wrote the fic ive been itching to write since the thought came to me #its not even like. questionable. im just afraid of opinions bc it involves a lot of projecting onto a typically 'strong' character #sigh. i probably will write it. probably wont post it. #maybe i'll finish that one fic thats rotting in my docs from the year before last when i last hit rock bottom lol #okay anyways enough talking to myself in the tags #ily whoever reads this i hope you have a good day and please remember its okay to ask for help when you need it. dont be like me

[kadoodles-on-ao3]

Sickness update: Still coughing, but it's (mostly) dry coughing now, and my headache is gone! But I'm not at 100% back-to-normal mental capacity yet either :(

Writing update: I've been hard at work on my angsty longfic! I was going to work on something lighter (especially with my cold) but all of a sudden more and more ideas to add to my AU kept popping in my head and I just had to jot them down.

Before long I was finally organizing my outline by putting all my previous bullet-point came-to-me-at-random-times-of-the-night-and-put-in-an-equally-random-order concepts into plot-chronological order as they should be, and making headings/sections for the major location changes to find stuff easier, and getting down how exactly series-and-collection-wise I want to go about categorizing the fic and its sequels, and finalizing their titles (which are all names of songs on The Glitch Mob's Drink the Sea album, give it a listen with good headphones if you haven't before, it's great background music!!) and oh yeah I needed to go over the h2hs again better open that doc, and I definitely need to have the game's script and cutscenes on hand for reference as needed (which was very frequently) and now baby I've got a stew going

I'm having so much fun writing characters I haven't gotten to write before, and (minor/vague Xenoblade spoilers) digging into the details of the lore about Face Mechon and expanding on my take of what was happening on the Mechonis before the party got there, and fitting lots of little puzzle pieces that the game gives you but doesn't directly tell you they belong together which is why I love it so much, and getting into such a nice flow state with it all and gjshfhskfh I love Xenoblade 1 so muchhhhhh!!!

So all that is to say I will hopefully be posting the prologue tomorrow or the day after! :) No promises as it's gotten much longer/more-detailed than I planned for (although I really should have expected that, it's always how it goes with me when I'm having fun writing I just can't stop haha) but it is most definitely on the way to being published soon!

#aside #before i get into mild spoilers for my fic (as in no details about the plot itself but i mention #which characters i'm writing in the prologue so if you want to go in completely blind turn back now!) #i will fill space by reiterating that drink the sea is such a good album and you should listen to it #my favorite track is Starve The Ego Feed The Soul :) listening to it with really good headphones and no other background noise is so #mmmmmmm it tickles my brain in the best way #as for the fic though i am having SO. much. fun. writing egil and mumkhar #i don't mention egil much publicly but he's one of my absolute fav characters from xc top 5 for sure #finally getting into his headspace and delving into his subtleties like his arrogance and loss of empathy is very :) #quite different from anything i've written before but in a good way. hope you like it as much as i had fun writing it! #and writing mumkhar's enthusiastic and sarcastic dickishness is a blast lmao #he was only supposed to be a small feature and likely even just an offscreen mention or two from egil #but then i realized how much i had written with zero dialogue (i like to do that especially in the middle of a conversation lol) and #i thought ''hm let's fix that! in fact part of my reason for having mumkhar here is that #he talks way too fucking much and it annoys egil to the point where he literally stitches his mouth shut so yeah having him actually #talk with specific words is important to the point i'm trying to make!'' and then oops my draft is an extra page longer now #but i had fun writing it and if it serves the story and the points i want to get across then i can't find the heart to delete it #and hey it's been so long since i've published anything so more is better anyway right?

[totallyblooktacular]

Heh, thank the old Spider Riders blog for that haha. Not a lot of folks remember the, even up here in Canada, where we dubbed it and aired it constantly; though everyone remembers the old game, which people are trying to revive. I've been revamping my own fic on AO3 for a while now, and I think I'm the only person currently writing new content for the show both there and on FFNet lol.

some of this feels a little vague so im worried im not thinking of the same things youre actually referencing, but i still definitely agree.

its a shame not very many people made their own dedicated blogs for it here (i only know like 2 ?) but theyre definitely very helpful for general access to content (official and otherwise), especially when pretty much anything of substance about it is so obscure, so i would say i do owe a lot to at least the one that was kept up here until.. i think just right after i started getting more into it myself, coincidentally enough lol

nice to be able to hear from a fic writer too though!! and that ur still kicking, as well. i havent read a majority of the ones out there, but i’ve been trying to stay pretty on top of some more recent ones being updated, so i think ive been reading it too, good job there!

#asks #by vague i just mean like. am i thinking of the same blog? the same fic? who knows!! but im like 90% theres really only like 1 option #for each anyways so im hoping ive got it right.. #always stuck in a difficult spot where SR is one of the few series im like really interested in being able to read fanfic for #but usually when i look at them i just cant get into their premises so i still dont engage with it much #theres 2 on ffn im up to date on though and then 1 thats also on ao3 which i assume is urs #and it is really good it feels pretty grounded and ive been excited to see where itll be going next #so good luck with that!! or if that Isnt yours then still good luck w/whatever your actual SR projects are #i have. um. several fanfic wips of my own for it to satiate the things id like to see people explore more #but im not a very good writer and its next to impossible to finish or even get them off the ground.. #so mad respect that youve been successful there #ALSO if you have ever looked up spider riders on twitter u will find out that people definitely DO remember it #theres like 4-5 tweets on most days of ppl just repeating the catchphrase or being like ''wow this show ruled anyone remember it'' #theres just no other thoughts beyond that and thats the unfortunate part that doesnt ultimately help it w recognition or community #sorry this is rambly i just do not get to talk abt like anything adjacent to it very much anymore and i still love it very very much.. #so thanks for sending this in too!!!!

[forallthepjostuff]

I need to know the pjo/marvel fic rn. Name and website.

Ok, I really wanted to answer this and go 'here it is!'....but to be honest, I don't remember the name, and I've been looking for it since I saw this and still haven't found it.

I'm assuming you're talking about the fic I mentioned where Thor's heard of Percy, and everyone's just confused as to how. Because, I'm not sure where it was, but I also remember mentioning a fic where Percy and Peter had already known each other and hadn't seen each other for a while.

So I don't remember that one but here's another one that has the whole 'Thor recognizes Percy' thing, Percy Jackson: The New Avenger by Firestar1218 on FanFiction.net. It's about Percy becoming a SHEILD agent after Annabeth and the others die, and joining the Avengers right before Loki escapes Asgard. Fair warning, it's incomplete, only 7 chapters, 11k words, some grammar mistakes and the last time it was updated was 2014. But it had a scene where Thor recognized Percy, which--because I was on a kick for that trope at the time--was all I wanted out of it, to be honest.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10583829/1/Percy-Jackson-The-New-Avenger

There's also the one I'm reading right now (that I found while I was looking for the original one I read) called A Hero's Fate: A Percy Jackson and Avengers FanFiction by bookaholic4ever on FanFiction.net that had a scene in the first chapter where Fury tells the Avengers to capture Percy because of him being suspected of terrorism, and Thor fanboys over Percy and then refuses to fight Percy and warns the Avengers against it because Thor's heard of what he's done. The summary also mentions another prophecy, but I'm only on chapter 4 out of 39. It's complete, and 74k words, but it also has a few grammar mistakes and the rest of the seven are all dead in this one, too.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13738012/1/A-Hero-s-Fate-A-Percy-Jackson-and-Avengers-Fanfiction

This is also the one I mentioned where Percy and Peter knew each other from before Percy found out he was a demigod. I forgot they become a couple in the end and that it's a series of a few one shots.

Then, of course there's my favorite PJO/Marvel fanfiction of all time, The File series by denimbeans on Archive Of Our Own, which is currently 237k words. The first two stories are complete, and the third story and the text fic in the series are, no joke, the only stories where I actively check for updates and read updates as soon as possible.

The first story is an AU of Blood Of Olympus, with one of the big things changed being that while Percy and Annabeth are in Tartarus, Annabeth dies and Percy goes blind, and Percy gets brought to Atlantis to heal and mourn. Also this one does have descriptions that could possibly make someone slightly squeamish. The second revolves around Percy, who used to be a SHIELD agent (and used to be on a search and rescue team, and used to be a mercenary...basically this whole series is very much deserving of the Badass Percy Jackson tag), being Tony Stark's bodyguard, and then starting his own replacement for SHIELD, because this takes place after Civil War and after SHIELD'S file dump. The third one goes more in depth about the organization Percy starts, and is about the aftermath of Civil War, with Barnes standing trial and the Rogue Avengers in hiding. The forth is a text fic that follows along with the stories, includes Peter more, and is funnier than the others (also has Percy being slightly ominous and cryptic, which is always fun to read.)

I know they're probably not exactly what you want, but I hope they're close enough? Or the first two are, at least?

#the third is because I'd feel weird mentioning it without saying anything else about it #& the forth is because it's an amazing crossover of the two and needs to be recommended to everyone and anyone who wants a pjo/marvel fic #i have some more too if you'd like #and some more that i'm currently reading but haven't added to my bookmarks yet (i mostly read on ao3) #but seriously i looked and can't find it. which is so weird #in my ao3 bookmarks & my fanfiction.net favorites & then just...typing what i remember into google to see if any results sound familiar #nothing did #it's so weird. i remember reading it but i just...can't find it #i'm probably gonna keep looking and tell you if i do find it. but now it's irritating me that i can't find it so i'm determined to #hope you like the ones i did recommend though. and if you'd like more or something feel free to ask #....you probably weren't expecting a fucking block of text when you sent the ask huh? sorry #i just get excited about things and ramble about them whether it's vocally or in word form

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

#🎃 — kinkteeber !! #teepods.writings #fics. #thirstee! #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

[demonstars]

hiii, i always read your fic recs (your fics too, you’re one of my fav writers <3) and i LOVE them!!!!!

so i was wondering, do you have any fic rec where george fucks up badly and has to make it up? i’ve been in an angsty mood for fics and they all have dream fucking up and i want one were george has to WERK to get him back, even if i find one where he does, dream always forgives pretty fast (canon but still) and i want ANGST please

obviously you can ignore this if you don’t have the time, the fic doesn’t exist, or you simply don’t want to lol, but thanks for reading anyway c:

hi!! that's so sweet omg. sadly I'm just generally big on angst and big fights and nothing comes to my mind :( BUT I'm posting in hopes some other anon can suggest anything!!

edit: lol I don't know if this is what you're Looking for, it's kind of the vibe I think??? Maybe???? yeah just check it out its a little bit of you

#interestingly enough dream fucks up a bit more on fics that's like a trend some people have noticed #I don't know if that holds true anymore but it sure was something #I hope you find something even if it's not on the demonstars askbox!! #star anons #edit: I remember liking that fic and it did have annongoing main conflict Though it's not that george fucks up exactlyyyy

[okay-babe]

Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)

A Good Thing, Indeed

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon &lt;3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.

Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.

You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.

Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.

Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.

Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.

Every. Single. Time.

It was as if the two of you were meant to be.

The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.

To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.

There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).

For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.

And how could it not?

You were his wife.

You!

The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.

The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.

You.

The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.

You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.

And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.

The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?

How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!

Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.

If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.

And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.

An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.

Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.

His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.

You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.

You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.

And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?

The short answer was, he couldn't.

And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.

And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?

Well, he tried his best not to.

Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.

Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.

But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.

Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.

Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.

There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.

Mimzy.

Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.

It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.

Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.

It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.

A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.

"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"

There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.

"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"

The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,

"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."

She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.

"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"

"Alastor."

Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.

"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"

She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.

"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"

She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.

"I'll see ya around dollface!"

She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.

What a fantastic start to one's day.

By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.

He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.

Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.

The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.

"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"

Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.

"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."

Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.

That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.

"Mimzy?"

It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.

Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.

"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"

The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.

"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"

She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.

And then, much to his shock, there you were.

Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.

Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.

The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.

"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"

She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.

"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"

You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.

"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"

Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,

"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"

She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.

Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.

"And you didn't think, my dear,"

He began, his voice low,

"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"

The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.

This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.

Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.

The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.

Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.

There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.

What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?

Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.

Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.

"Let her explain?"

You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.

'Stay home with me?'

'Give him a chance?'

'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'

(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).

And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.

She didn't have long, that was for sure.

If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.

And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.

And what a tale she spun, indeed.

With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.

Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.

And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.

You'd missed this.

(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)

Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.

Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...

"Mimzy."

Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.

Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,

"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,

"Efforts."

How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.

Alastor nodded,

"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."

He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"

The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.

She was quick to answer.

"Great question, dollface!"

She laughed nervously,

"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."

She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.

Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...

"Dearest,"

He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.

"Speaking of 'down here',"

Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,

"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"

Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.

Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.

"I uh, I killed a parent..."

You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.

"Pardon?"

He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.

You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?

Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.

You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,

"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."

You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.

He was positively enamored.

"You killed Harry Wells?"

He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.

Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.

"I uh, yeah. I did."

The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.

He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.

"And to think,"

He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.

"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."

You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,

"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"

Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.

"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."

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