#than i would have actually writing all of this into a fic

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #mingyu smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu #fic: cross my heart

[undressrehearsal]

is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch. 

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. 

Your hand on her thigh crept higher. 

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.) 

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?” 

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?” 

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested. 

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her. 

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything. 

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too. 

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up. 

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction. 

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you. 

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you. 

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there. 

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her. 

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.” 

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you. 

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about? 

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.” 

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button. 

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle. 

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror. 

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin. 

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks. 

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?” 

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look. 

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart. 

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….” 

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly. 

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” 

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right? 

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.” 

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps. 

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her. 

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all. 

@filtered-sunlight

#are you proud of me that this isn't 10k words #idk how many chapters i'll write #i'm kinda winging it rn #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou angst #this is p angsty

[sapphicnae]

Love, Hate and Everything in Between

Summary: Regina hated you and you hated Regina. Each of you so obsessed with taking down the other. But was this obsession pure hatred or something more?

Character Pairings: Regina x fem!reader, Regina x Cady (if you squint)

Warnings: Slurs, Bullying, Toxic Behaviour, Internalised Homophobia

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is my first fic / one-shot on here so I hope you guys enjoy. I’ve been reading some fics on here and decided we don’t have enough Regina fics going round, so I thought, what better than a classic enemies to lovers (?). Apologies for any mistakes I did write half of this at 4am. If you do enjoy, please let me know because I wouldn’t mind turning this into a full blown fic, I have plenty more ideas for it. Also, I’m very open to requests!

You and Regina. Two of the most popular girls in school.

Regina hated you, and you hated Regina.

 It had been this way since you had joined North Shore a year ago and gained popularity, despite Regina’s attempts to take you down at every turn. But one thing you and your best friend, Janis Imi’ike couldn’t figure out was why Regina was so obsessed with you. To the point you would catch her staring at you from across the cafeteria almost daily, albeit with an icy glare plastered on her face. You had both had your fair share of run-ins with each other, after all, Regina couldn’t stand to see the new girl rise to popularity as fast as you had in your year of being at this school. But the difference between you and Regina was that you actually treated people with respect... and you just happened look pretty while doing it.

Jealousy. That’s all you had chalked her behaviour down to, until recently.

Regina had consistently made it clear that she was in fact, not gay. From her messy relationship with Aaron Samuels to openly flirting with Shane Oman in the halls, she had made it very clear she only had eyes for men. Her performative gestures with Shane in the hallways also coupled with the spreading of rumours about certain people being a lesbian. From the way Regina had spoken this word, it had made it seem as if this was the worst possible thing to be known as at North Shore. No one in school had ever had the guts to stand up to Regina for her problematic behaviour, especially since she ruled the halls with fear. Yet her reign seemed to be interrupted the moment you transferred to North Shore. You were the only person who wasn’t afraid to defend yourself, or others for that matter.

Naturally, Regina could not stand this. Which lead to you having a constant target on your back for rumours and blatant lies in order for you to lose your popularity as well as your dignity. You thought it was incredibly excessive of her to make out that being a lesbian was a bad thing. Partly because your best friend and partner-in-crime, Janis was a lesbian and partly because deep down, you knew you had an attraction to girls too. Yet the only people who knew this was Janis and Damien, of course, your two closest friends.

You had not yet been in a relationship since joining North Shore that year, not due to avoidance, but due to all your time being taken up by your rivalry with Regina. Which was totally normal… right?

The most recent rumour that was circling the halls, of course spread by Regina, was that at a party that you had both been to last Friday night, you had made a pass at Regina. Hearing this from Damien in English class that day was the last thing you had needed after enjoying a supposedly drama free day for once. Anyone who was at the party that night would’ve known that wasn’t true, yet Regina had a certain charm to the way she could make anything seem believable. You of course weren’t surprised at her attempts to drag your reputation down for the umpteenth time this year. She loved making out that you were the one who was obsessed with her and not the other way round. It irked you to think that she could get away with having the last laugh. You would have just let it slide, but your ego once again stood in the way of your ability to allow Regina to think she had won.

So that’s when lunch rolled around. You, Janis, and Damien were sitting at your usual table, with the plastics in view. Having to watch them gossiping with each other and occasionally glancing your way had left you with a deep-seated feeling of rage. You had never been one to often keep your emotions in check, this seemed to be your downfall in situations like these. Feeling anger like this was always the driver of your revenge. Coupled with the fact that thoughts of Regina didn’t often leave your mind. Which was obviously due to the fact that you resented her so much. You hated everything about her. Sure, she was gorgeous, with those stupid green eyes that always harboured some form of winged eyeliner, along with the rest of her makeup that accentuated her already flawless features. That stupid beautiful blonde hair that always seemed to sit in the perfect place, flowing down her back like she was some sort of supermodel. Those perfect lips tha-

“Dude, are you even listening to me right now?” Janis questioned, lightly punching your arm, ripping you away from your thoughts. A small blush crept up your neck, realising you had been so deep in thoughts about Regina that you had completely zoned out of the conversation you were supposed to be having.

You faltered for a moment before attempting to save yourself with a reply “Y-yeah of course. I was just-“

“Clearly planning her revenge against queen of the plastics, god Janis, keep up” Damien chimes in, attempting to save the day. Janis just rolls her eyes at both of you. She had been dealing with Regina and her posse for years, which meant she had more or less tuned their drama out in an attempt to stay sane at this school. With you however, it was a different story, Regina somehow always found the perfect way to rile you up.

“The day queen bitch of North Shore gives it a rest with these dumbass rumours, will be the day I know peace” Janis huffed, which made both you and Damien chuckle in response. “Especially with her obsession over who’s a lesbian and who’s not. If you ask me, she should just come out of the closet already.” She then nods to you “I mean, the closet might as well be glass with the way she stares you down at any given moment. Coming from a fellow girl kisser, she wants you baaad.” She laughed at her own words. Receiving an eye roll from you this time.

“That girl needs to be called out on her shit.” You glance over at Regina who is sporting a smug smile listening in to her friends gossiping. You couldn’t stand the fact that she had gotten under your skin once again. With the rumour fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to act. Deep down you loved the drama between the both of you, it gave you some sort of high, being able to pull Regina off her own narcissistic pedestal. It was like some sort of addiction; you couldn’t get enough of it “in fact… what better time than right now?” You uttered, as you shot up from your seat. Before either Janis or Damien could sway you out of it, you were already making your way over to the table across the cafeteria.

As you approached, you could see Regina’s eyes flicker towards you, a wry smirk growing on her face. On seeing Regina’s attention shift, the rest of the plastics turned to face your way, which didn’t deter you in the slightest. Having a rivalry with Regina for this long, you were used to all eyes being plastered on you while confronting her. Plus, nothing about Regina’s minions scared you. All they ever seemed to do was blindly follow her around like lost puppies. The only person who you had never understood as being part of the group was Cady Heron. You had sat with her in a couple of your classes, and with the way she spoke, it seemed she so desperately wanted to be her own person instead of being grouped in with the meanest girls in school. This lead to you gaining a small amount of respect for her. A few times you had considered asking her why she still sticks with Regina after seeing the way she treats her, but you knew that would be a whole other mess. Besides, there was a high chance that she’d go running straight to Regina about it. It seemed as though Cady was on the tightest leash out of anyone in the plastics… probably because Regina knew she could be pulled away from her with the right amount of convincing.

Right before you reached the table you noticed Regina stiffen her posture, followed by a groan, “here comes queen lesbo of North Shore”, which was followed by a few snickers from Gretchen and Karen. Funnily enough, Cady remained silent. “What’s up? Couldn’t get enough of me Friday ni-“

You interrupt her by slamming your hands on the table, which not only grabbed the attention of the plastics, but those who were on the surrounding tables too. You lock eyes with Regina as you spoke in a low tone, attempting to control your anger towards her.

“Real cute hearing that you’re telling people I came onto you, when anyone who was there knows we barely even made eye contact.” Regina raised an eyebrow at you, smirk still in place. She then spoke condescendingly, before you could continue.

“Oh honey, of course you don’t remember, you were sooo drunk and all over me, everyone saw it, right Gretch?” She then shot her a dangerous look to which Gretchen instantly nodded in response. This amused you slightly, knowing she was laying it on thick. She was trying so desperately hard with this angle that you decided to use her tactics against her for once. You let out a laugh of false amusement before continuing.

“Oh please Regina, you’re trying so hard to convince everyone it’s true, almost as if… you wish it was? I mean it wouldn’t be surprising. I’ve seen the way you stare at me in the hallways, you make it a bit obvious don’t you think?” By this point, the smile on Regina’s face had completely dropped, morphing into a poisonous glare. As she opened her mouth to cut you off, you kept speaking, raising your tone to catch the attention of others. “-so obvious in fact, that I don’t even need to say it out loud, people are whispering about it already. So next time you wanna spread rumours like that, try taking a look in the mirror first.” People around you gasp, hearing you speak to Regina in the same way she would leaves even the queen bee herself in slight shock before she manages to compose herself. You hadn’t even considered the weight of the words you had spoken until they had left your mouth. You had basically just accused her of having a huge crush on you and judging by the state it left her in, it didn’t seem like that was far from the truth.

“So, you are gay?” Karen pipes up first, mouth slightly agape as she speaks. Regina shoots a glare at her, making her immediately look in the opposite direction.

It was your turn to smirk seeing her cheeks turn scarlet as she gritted her teeth. She was clearly outraged, the look on her face said so. Yet, hidden behind her eyes, there seemed to be an ounce of shame present. Having a moment to study this look almost made you feel… regret? Though in the next beat, she rose up from where she was sitting and took a few steps towards where you’re stood, towering over you slightly. She had rarely ever made a move to get this close to you before, and standing where she is right now, you could practically smell her expensive perfume. You fought the urge to take a step back, as your breath hitched slightly. For a moment she hesitates, her eyes flicker to your lips for just a split second, but not fast enough that you don’t catch her doing it. If this wasn’t happening in front of the whole school crowd, you would be sure that she was about to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself taking a heavy breath to steady yourself before she snaps at you.

“Listen, dyke. If you ever catch me staring at you it’s because I think you’re a freak. And if you think for one second, I would ever be into you, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. So why don’t you and the rest of your sad little band of freaks over there, go and-“

She is almost immediately cut off by a teacher who walks over to the group, clearly having been alerted of the altercation going off in the middle of the cafeteria. Regina immediately takes a step back from you and fixes her hair, attempting to seem as innocent as possible.

“Girls, what seems to be the problem?” Ms. Norbury questions, looking between the two of you. With the rest of the plastics keeping silent, it was up to one of you to speak up first. Regina then plasters a fake polite look on her face and turns to Ms. Norbury to speak. Right as you expected her to defame you all the way to your seat in detention, she instead gives a different response.

“There’s no problem, everything’s fine.” Regina smiles at her as you see the rest of her crew nodding behind her, which brings you to scoff at the sudden change up in her demeanour. Having dealt with Regina many times before, it was clear that Ms. Norbury saw right through this attempt to get her to leave you both to it. Which lead to what she had to say next.

“Look girls, I know the two of you have had issues in the past. But I won’t tolerate drama like this during school hours.” She then steps between the both of you. “Now separate this and I’ll see you in my office after school. Both of you.” She then turns on her heel and walks away.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in disbelief. After this, you decide it’s best to walk away from Regina and return to your table before your day could get any worse. But not before she hastily grips your forearm and subtly whispers some hostile words close to your ear.

“We are so not done, freak” she then roughly drops your arm before coasting back to her seat. Though her threatening remark left you stunned for a moment, her closeness left you breathless for longer. As you made your way back to Janis and Damien, you couldn't get the thought of her out of your head. After all the tension and pent-up anger between you, you secretly hoped she might be right. Because as you stared at her from across the cafeteria, your heart thumped in your chest, not out of fear, but something else. You were definitely not done with each other. Not by a long shot.

#regina george #regina x reader #regina george x reader #mean girls 2024 #cady heron #janis imi'ike #mean girls #regina george x fem!reader #fanfic #mean girls musical #renee rapp #angst

[knmaskitten]

Nonsense ˚⊹♡

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru/ afab!reader.

Summary: Based on Sabrina Carpenter's espresso and nonsense. You met Oikawa Tooru at a bar in Argentina, Oikawa has always been the type of guy to have hundrends of women thrown at him but this encounter was different because this time he wanted to throw himself at you.

warnings/tags: afab!fem reader. A lot of slapping. Oral f and m recieving. Fingering. Very badly written smut. Use of spanish. Hair pulling. not pulling out. Mentions of the pill. Unprotected P in V. Not rough but also not vanilla?. No use of y/n. No physical descriptions of reader. Lots of badly written banter. CRINGE.

notes: I love writing about oikawa he is a little piece of shit and I love him! this fic was not proof read as I would fucking cringe doing so. English is not my main language so I apologize for any bad grammar. As always my AO3 is here.

wc: 3,240.

minors DNI. +18 only

You were sitting alone on a stool at a very crowded bar. You could hear the different chatter intertwine as you were waiting for your friend Luciana to arrive. Today it was girls’ night, so, of course, you decided to dress up a little more nicely than you usually do. Your pick for today was a very tight bodycon black dress with a squared neckline that, well, did wonders for your entire body. You decided not to mess with your hair, as it naturally framed your face beautifully and gave your face a sort of brightness.

You felt your phone buzz; it was a text from your friend: “Lo siento, nena. Voy algo tarde” (I’m sorry, baby. I’m a little bit late) you read on the screen of your phone. You sighed. Part of you knew how tardy Luciana liked to be and, moreso, allowed herself to be. This wasn’t really a surprise to you, nor did it anger you; you just limited yourself to resigning to this. Today was going to be a good day, you told yourself, and no tardiness was going to disturb your mindset today.

When the bartender passed you your mojito (which you ordered extra sweet), you drank up, dark red lipstick staining the glass as it left your lips.  You swirled the ice around and left it at the table as you saw a dark brown-haired guy approach the seat next to yours. This made you skeptical, as you saw through his real intentions.

“No sé si vos sabés, pero ese asiento está ocupado” (I don’t know if you know, but that seat is taken), you said with parsimony, waiting for him to move. He looked foreign to you, and something in his aura made you feel weirdly interested in him. You analyzed his eyes, which were brown, seductive, and had a playful hint behind them.

“¿Por quién? No veo a nadie, pretty lady.” (By who? I don't see anyone), he said playfully, the last part forcefully in his home language, like he was challenging you. And you were so not having his shit, who does he think he was?

"Look, pretty boy, I’m not really playing around here.” You said it in a low tone, matching his language, which you knew, and you were glad that you took those extra classes in college all for this weird moment.

“Do you want to share a drink or something?” He put both hands up, tacitly asking for a truce between you and him.

You actually thought about his offer; he was good-looking, very good-looking, like the type of guy you could be pining for, and he could never be interested in you. And you could not believe he was hitting on you, of all people. You were having a hard time deciding between girls’ night or going home with this stranger, but you had a strong resolve. You promised Luciana this.

And well, it wasn’t like guys didn’t hit on you, but not these types of guys, not guys that looked toned and heaven-like. And you didn’t want anything to do with him; it was too weird for you. But also, it was sweet to think that he was flirting with you (in a very weird manner).

“Do I look like I want a drink?” You spat, arching your brow. “And you look very young. ¿Qué edad tienes cielito? ¿Seguro que puedes venir a estos lugares?” (How old are you, honey? Are you sure you can come to these places?)

He looked annoyed at this, like you touched a very sensitive fiber on him. He replied, gritting his teeth:

“Tengo 24 querida” (I’m 24, dear) 

“I could swear you were younger.”You laughed at this clearly mocking him. You know, you might as well have some fun while Luciana arrived, you do love the idea of men wrapped around your finger. So you did what you thought was best; you moved you hair out of the way and leaned in, cleary with intentions of showing your cleavage. You gave him a half-lidded look:

“You shouldn’t get lost in these kind of places, you might get a very unpleasant surprise.” You shrugged then took a sip of your drink.

“Like you?” He sarcastically replied, getting closer as well. He should not be getting any ideas, you were the one leading this conversation not him. You had power, he had his looks only.

“Believe me I’m not the unpleasant one here” 

The vanilla perfume you wore today had him on a whirl, he felt like never before. You were one of the first girls that did not want to throw themselves at him and it was killing his ego. You looked wonderfull in your dress and he could be drooling over it. You looked like someone who might turn him down and that was so exciting for him, a kind of feeling at the pit of his stomach bubbled at the thought.

“I’m Oikawa Tooru” he stated, almost fiercely, as if he wanted you to tattoo this information on your head.

“Mmm…Oikawa…Tooru…Ah! you play on the San Juan don’t you?” You loved volleyball, since you were little. You nevere pursued a career on it but you practiced often and you had muscles thanks to it.

“You…know me? And you don’t want me?” He bluntly said in disbielef. You knew him, and you didn’t drool over him. That was a stabbing right to his ego, it hurted like hell.

“Why would I? You’re just a guy”

“Eh! Just a guy?” You were definitely killing him, tearing his ego one by one.

“Why, can’t stand rejection?” You giggled, clearly mocking him.

“Is that your way or rejecting me?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well I don’t really think so, cielito.”

Before you could reply your phone rang, and Luciana’s number was shown on the screen alongside a picture of the two of you together. You were sticking out your tongue while she gave you bunny ears with two of her fingers. You thought the worst; you knew something was up.

“Pelotuda, no me jodas que te pasó algo.” (Motherfucker, don’t tell me something happened to you.) You said it rapidly as you picked up the phone, omitting the hello.

“Mira, nena, la verdad es que estoy acá y no te veo en ningún lado.” (Look, babe, the truth is, im here and I don’t see you anywhere.)

“Boluda…No me digas que te equivocaste de bar.” (Idiot, don’t tell me you got the bar wrong.)

“Era el bar María, ¿No?” (It was the María bar, right?)

“¡No!, era el Alfredo’s” (No! it was Alfredo's.) You hissed angrily.

You had it sometimes with Luciana; she was your best friend but that didnt mean you had to agree to everything she did. This was one of those days, and honestly? fuck it. You stood up, furiously placing some argentinian pesos on top of the table and standing from your stool. You were hearing a series of apologetic words on the other line that came like a current towards your ear. You were not having it.

“Luciana, silencio. No quiero escuchar más; dejamos la salida para otro día, boluda.” (Luciana, silence. I don’t want to hear it anymore; we will leave it for another day, idiot.)

And with that, you hung up, not really wanting to hear Luciana’s response. You picked up your black purse and fixed your hair. As you were walking out, you turned on your heels. Filled with determination, you walked towards a very confused Oikawa. You placed your hand on top of his and led him out of the bar with you, and he happily obliged without saying a word.

Oikawa and you did not exchange words on the way to your apartment. It was a very comfortable silence. He had his hand on top of your thigh, applying a little bit of pressure every so often. You liked it; you liked how he felt all mushy for you and how he was trembling so slightly with desire. You could feel how he bubbled with the same intensity as you did.

When you arrive at your apartment, both of you stay quiet and still on the doorway, first admiring your dimly lit living room and secondly thinking of what the hell to do. Oikawa knew this routine very well; he was a girls’ boy at the end of the day, and he had his fun often. But you clouded his judgment, and he wasn’t really able to dictate what to do as he usually did.

You grew tired of the indecision on his part and rolled your eyes. You clearly didn’t give a fuck about anything right now (and perhaps usually), and this brief moment of silence was appeasing the feeling in your lower belly, and you didn’t want that. So, you did what every girl in your place would do: you took him by the collar and crashed your lips together. 

It started as a clumsy kiss, and it evolved into something more complicated, intense, and hungry. Your hands were exploring his hair as he hugged you by your hips. You knew he was tall, and you thanked your shoes for giving you a lot more height than you had because it would have been harder to do this if it weren’t for it. He stopped kissing you for a moment, breathing heavily.

“Can I touch you?”

“Do it.” You demanded.

He resumed the kiss, now guiding it. He started by grabbing your ass and squishing it hard, then slapping it, to which you let out a small whimper in between kisses. He definitely liked your ass because he groped it several times. His hands then wandered towards your hips, where he squished your sides. You liked it—how strong his hands were, how extremely feral you knew he could be.

“Do not restrain yourself. Don’t you dare, Oikawa.” 

And so he didn’t. He turned you around and bent you on top of your kitchen counter, giving you a hard, dull slap on your ass. Your tits sprung out of your dress, getting hard when they hit the cold surface, and you shut your eyes, biting your lip. He started generating friction between his crotch and your ass, and you could feel him. You felt how big he was and how much he needed to eat you up. 

His hands went to your hair, pulling you up; your back was arched, and your ass was glued in place to his erection. You allowed yourself to be; you really needed to blow some stress out, and this looked like the perfect opportunity, so you did what you needed to do and what you knew was going to feel freeing. You moaned loudly and clearly. He seemed to briefly stop what he was about to do when he heard you, spellbound. 

“You’re such a good girl when you want to, huh?” He said it in your neck, his warm breath hitting your cold skin. The hairs on your skin sprung up.

It was May, and the coldness could be felt throughout the region already, so it was so comforting how he held you because he exuded a certain kind of dangerous warmth, the intoxicating kind. You wanted to be filled with it. And tacitly obliging to your wishes, he took both your breasts in his hands and started playing with them.

“How dare you. Driving me crazy with this little black dress of yours”

He pinched one of your nipples, erecting a moan out of your throat. He also started biting your neck, leaving hard hickeys (that were definitely going to leave a mark), licks and bites, hard bites, praising you for your noises. His other hand found the hem of your dress, impatiently playing with it as his head grew lighter with lust.

“Undress me.” 

You always were one to demand, and you loved how he followed your orders without hesitation. He turned you around and lifted you up; you were facing him, and your core was against his crotch, creating a blissfully good friction. You were growing wetter by the minute, and you knew you were going to start to get extremely needy if he didn’t hurry.

“Shit, sorry. Which one is the door to your room?”

“The one to the right.” you giggled, out of breath.

He placed you gently on the bed, then, without hesitation, took out your dress, leaving you in your underwear. You definitely felt exposed, but you were not going to allow yourself to cower in this moment.

“Enjoying the view?”

Oikawa was never a guy to stick with someone for a long period of time; he would rather be alone but have fun and, in all of his conquests, he was never this head over heels for someone. He saw you at the bar, and some kind of dream came true for him. You were beautiful; you made him want to keep looking, keep digging, and know as much about you as possible. And he met you an hour ago! 

“I’m going to make you learn my name tonight.” he bluntly stated.

“Oikawa…”

“Moan it.”

And as he said that, he pushed himself on top of you and started sucking on one of your nipples, nibbling and licking as well. You were on extasis; it felt so incredibly good to have an experienced mouth working so intensely on your pleasure. And while doing so, one of his hands travelled down to your panties, feeling the wet spot you were leaving.

“You’re such a brat with me, while your pussy fucking cries for me.”

Oh, my god.

He started to rub slow circles on the spot where your clit should be.  You let out small crying whimpers. You felt so impatient; you wanted him to rip your underwear and fucking touch you, to end this misery and let you have what you needed the right way. You could feel how experienced he was, looking at you half-lidded with his hazel brown eyes. He started to slide down your panties, painfully slow, until your core was fully exposed to him.

What he did then surprised you: he slapped you directly on your clit and you arched your back at this, moaning. He seemed cocky as he watched you squirm under his touch, he wanted more of this, so much more. So he did what he knew you were going to love. He spread you out (until your legs felt that muscular pain of stretching) and buried his face between your legs. 

His tongue was the first thing you felt, eating you like you were this man’s last meal on earth. He sucked on your clit and applied preassure to it while also fucking you with his tongue. He helped by introducing one finger inside you and pumping it in and out. You were a loud mess; you could feel how he touched you as every nerve in your body was alert and crisped up. His sole finger made you feel like you were so freaking close to your orgasm, and then he flicked on your clitoris, the overstimulation filling you up.

He introduced a second finger, increasing his pace as he tried to reach your g spot (which he succeeded in). 

“Tooru.” You moaned loudly, feeling overwhelmed by ecstasy.

His pace only went up by this, as if you were chanting his name in a volleyball game. And this is how he was going to win. He was going to make you feel so good that you could never forget his fingers and his dick. You were going to be his and his only.

“Don’t shut up; be fucking loud, hermosa.”

He didn’t stop and, with the right amount of pressure of his fingers, you came undone with his fingers, covering them with slick.

“You're such a good girl when you’re filled up. Not very commanding now, are you?”

“Put your fucking dick inside me, Tooru.”

“Watch that tone, preciosa. You’re going to make me punish you if you behave badly.”

“Tooru, please.” You pleaded.

You sat up as you said this, looking up at him with your mouth slightly parted and huffing as you were recovering from your orgasm. Your hand approached his belt, and he knew this was game over as he allowed you to unbuckle his pants and push them down. You stayed still, admiring his length through his boxers, before cupping it with your hand. You stood up, not breaking eye contact for one second, kneeling down in front of him.

You placed both of your hands on the hem of his boxers and pushed it down, exposing his length. You were mesmerized by how big he was; you couldn’t wait to be filled to the brim with him.

Please.

Oh, god, please.

You grabbed his length and put it in your mouth and you started bobbing your head in an almost rhythmic succession. It was ever so slightly, but you could hear Oikawa whimper and blush because of your ministrations, and you felt incredible because of it. You decided to deep-throat him. As you sucked and masturbated him with your hand as well, you slowly saw Oikawa get more and more flustered, as if this were his Achilles talon.

“Baby, don’t you dare stop.”

He said this as he grabbed your head with one of his hands and started moving it at a higher pace. This was difficult for you as you were in need of air and you were choking at times but he didn't really care; he just wanted to come in your face. And when that moment came, you were a panting mess with cum coating your face. He admired you, looking at you as if you were a trophy to admire and take care of.

He didn’t wait for both of you to calm down; he made you stand up and bent you over the bed. Once again, he slapped your ass, this time leaving various red marks on it. He pumped his length twice; that was all he needed.

“You’re on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

And with that, he aligned himself with your entrance and started to thrust. Oikawa loved the view, how your ass bounced every time he thrust into you, how your tits were a fucking mess, and your muffled moans. Oh, your moans—those were music to his ears; he couldn’t describe it otherwise than an angelic cry. You were being stretched out by his dick; it was big for you, and he did not give you space to adapt; you had to adapt to him. Every thrust felt like a piece of heaven given to you.

He placed one hand at your hip and the other one in your clit, stimulating you. He wanted you to come; that was clear, and there was something you wanted from him as well. When you felt his first moan, you knew he was going to get close, so you asked what you wanted.

“Don’t pull out.”

“Baby…”

“I’m on the pill, It will be fine, I swear.”

And when you came, he came afterwards inside you. You felt happy as you plopped down into bed with him beside you. He kissed your forehead and helped you clean up, and as you were both feeling tired, you decided to sleep.

This surely was nonsense, but at least you now have someone to rely on when you need to blow stress off.

Thank you for reading <3

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu oikawa #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru smut #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa smut #oikawa headcanons #oikawa drabbles #oikawa x reader smut #smut #reader insert #hq #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #hq smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq fluff #oikawa x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa fluff

[gallusrostromegalus]

My drawing skills suck are very unpracticed but I have a mighty need to create fanart of the garbage tarot. I don't even know anything about the source material but I am in love with these idiots.

Actually... I do a lot more mixed-media than I do drawing........... Hmm...

As a Completely Unrelated Thought, what do you think Zaraki's handwriting would look like?

I'm glad you asked because there's na specific answer for AEIWAM fic! Zaraki!

(Note: in AEIWAM, Kakiyo was Tousen's adopted sister, not an unrequited crush, and she raised money to go to the academy by working as a travelling schoolteacher for a while)

---

The first time Yamamoto gets a report from Zaraki, it genuinely throws him for a loop. Its a thorough if somewhat gruesome report about the 11th dealing with a pack of hollows that had been attacking isolated villages. Nothing Yamamoto was not already used to, but reading descriptions of mutilated villagers is somehow more unsettling when the descriptions look like this:

(a stylistic example)

Yamamoto takes him to task next meeting.

(continued under the cut)

"I know you're still learning the job Zaraki, but you can't foist your paperwork off on Miss Kusajishi." Yamamoto growls.

"I... Didn't? What?" Zaraki looks extremely confused, but the Captain-General is not fooled.

"You mean to tell me THIS is your handwriting?" Yamamoto snaps, throwing the report on the table, sheets spilling out as it slid down the length of it, so everyone could see the bizarre cutesy hand it was written in.

Zaraki's face darkened, jaw clenched. "Yeah. What about it? You goin' blind as well as senile?" He growled.

"THIS IS THE HANDWRITING OF A LITTLE GIRL, ZARAKI, DO YOU HAVE THE SAME HANDWRITING AS YOUR DAUGHTER?" Yamamoto slammed his hand on the table, temperature sharply increasing around him.

Zaraki began to arch his back and crackle with Reiatsu as well, but was stopped by loud ringing chime and a hand on his arm.

Yamamoto blinked in surprise to see Tousen, of all people , holding the giant back. There was a click as Tousen fully re-sheathed his sword. Suzumushi's chime wouldn't effect either of them, but it redirected their attention very effectively.

"My apologies, Yamamoto-sama." He bowed his head before turning his ear up at Zaraki. "Kakiyo wrote about this to me. You could only afford for one of you to receive schooling, right?"

Zaraki huffed and shook himself before answering. "Yeah, I was a broke-ass bastard before this." He grumbled, scratching his neck in a de-escalation feature. "Yer sister was a fuckin' saint and a genius. Neither of you have any business tellin' the whole world though."

"I think it was an exceptionally brave and difficult thing you did." Tousen shrugged. "Even when she used that method, less than one in a hundred parents actually stuck to it, much less achieved what you have."

Zaraki started looking everywhere but at Tousen, thinking. "... wouldn't call it brave, it was just makin' sure she was doin' good in school." He muttered.

Tousen kept listening intently at Zaraki. May I tell Yamamoto-sama so he doesn't cause another scene?"

"You're going to tell me what you're muttering about whether you like it or not." Yamamoto menaced.

"My sister taught Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi how to read and write." Kaname sighed and took off his goggles to rub the bridge of his nose. "It's extremely common in the Rukongai to have to teach children whose parents have never had any kind of schooling. Many of the parents would like to go to school too, but can only afford to send their children- actually , usually only one child. It's not usually an issue of money, but time- the parents can't afford to miss fishing season, or spare any siblings because they're needed on the farm. But, when you have a parent who is as attentive and caring as Zaraki-"

"Tttch!" Zaraki huffed at Kaname, who pointedly ignored him.

"-You can get around the schooling fees and scheduling problems by telling the student that their homework is to teach their parents what they learned in school that day. The homework you give the students is for their parents to do after they pass the lesson on and grade them on how well they taught their family." Kaname explained, putting his goggles back on. "Kakiyo was in awe of Miss Kusajishi's dedication to teaching you, and immensely proud of your efforts."

Zaraki still refused to look at Tousen, but his ears were bright red.

"...ohhh." Ukitake realized. "Wow, that's... I thought it was impossible to learn how after a certain age, that's - well, I don't think it's something I could have done!"

"What?" Glared Yamamoto.

"Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi have the same handwriting because he learned how to read and write by learning her school lessons from her." Unohana translated. "-An exceptionally difficult way to learn, and commendable for even trying." She continued, arching an eyebrow at him as a warning.

"Yeah and with all due respect Yama-ji? You're not exactly in a position to be complaining about anyone else's handwriting-" added Shunsui. "Zaraki's handwriting is odd, but it's perfectly legible. Nanao-chan framed your last memo because she thought it was an abstract painting."

Yamamoto turned to Shunsui with an aggravated glare.

"I'm afraid I have to second Kyoraku-taicho." Tousen said, without an ounce of chagrin in his voice. "The kido spell on my glasses can translate nearly everyone's hand, but the only person in the ninth who can read your memos to me is third-seat Maegawa, and mostly because she's had several centuries practice."

"Wait, we were supposed to be getting memos?" Mayuri squawked. "Dammit! I thought that squiggly garbage was the fax machine breaking every other week! I disassembled that thing three times trying to fix it!"

"You can all shut up now." Yamamoto snarled, and everyone did, but there were still a lot of pointed looks around the table, and Unohana's eyebrow had not resumed it's usual curvature yet. "Please consider my complaint withdrawn."

Unohana's eyebrow arched further and she cracked her eye open to reveal a coal-black iris, going from Warning to Threat.

"...My apologies, Zaraki-taicho. That was. Inconsiderate of me." Yamamoto muttered.

"Ya gonna shut up about it now?" Zaraki asked, not quite facing Yamamoto, but back still arched.

"I will hold my judgment in check in the future." Yamamoto acquiesced, watching him.

"Sure." Zaraki grunted, shaking his shoulders to drop the subject. "Right, what the fuck were we doing?" He asked, returning to the agenda.

---

After the meeting, Tousen took a minute to stand in the late afternoon sun, exhaling and releasing the tension of the day, when someone grabbed one shoulder and plopped something heavy on the other.

"Yeh didn't have to do that." Zaraki grunted just behind Tousen's ear, his forehead resting on the small man's shoulder, half gratitude, half grumble.

"One of the responsibilities of a captain is to keep the general in check, and I had a particularly good opening to stop that nonsense for good." Kaname hummed, hand reflexively coming up to touch the giant's head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing over the scarred visage and peculiar hairstyle.

"Didn't read that in the employee handbook." Zaraki grunted, grin in his voice.

"Yamamoto wrote those handbooks, and he'd rather we let him do as he pleases. You have to learn how to read between the lines, Zaraki." Kaname teased.

Zaraki gave his strange, low clicking chuckle of amusement and affectionately mock-bit Kaname's ear before standing up, still holding his other shoulder.

"...Thanks. " he muttered, giving his arm a squeeze and stepping away. "Gotta go pick up Sensei, you talk to her if you think I need more tutoring!" Zaraki waved, striding off to collect Yachiru in completely the opposite direction from her school.

"ITS THE OTHER- oh, he'll figure it out." Kaname sighed.

The sun was low in the sky, but it was still warm, and the first Cricket of summer started chirping, startling him. Suzumushi chirped with it, singing her mournful loss of her original wielder, but not so despairing this time.

"Kaname?" Sajin asked, heard before he was felt as usual. The lieutenant's meeting must have wrapped up late.

Kaname smiled and put a finger up, indicating he should listen. Sajin did, helmet tipping slightly to hear.

"Crickets!" Sajin realized, and offered Kaname his gauntlets hand to lead him home. "...I miss Kakiyo too." He sighed.

"You're not really gone if some part of you lives on in someone else." Kaname hummed. "I realized she is not so far gone today."

"Oh?" Sajin asked. "Where does she live on?"

"Have you read any of Zaraki-taocho's reports yet?" Kaname grinned. "His hand is not his hand alone."

#Bleach #Bleach Fanfic #AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #kenpachi zaraki #kaname tosen #kaname tousen #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #long post under the cut #its cute

[bruh-myguy-what]

Lovestruck

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Requested by: @baddest-batchers Warnings: Massive fluff, I think I actually cried writing this?, I've not been handling the season finale well because I miss Tech a considerable amount, pining for reader from Tech's perspective, a lot of adorable emotions from our usually pragmatic boy Word Count: 2K Summary: While fixing the Marauder with you, Tech reflects on his feelings and he's completely enamored by you. A/N: I'm not handling Tech's death well. Whether it's his death or his just being CX-2, I don't really care, I miss him so desperately and this fic healed so many parts of my heart even though I actually wept while writing. I love that you requested this, friend! I hope it's exactly what you were looking for (or at least close!) and I absolutely agree, this was indeed a Tech prompt. All of these requests have been so wonderful and I cannot express how much it means that people like my writing enough to send in requests! Thanks guys!

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

__________________________________________

It was an ordinary affair for you and Tech to work on the repairs for the Marauder simultaneously. There were consistent restorations that needed to be made and things to be updated, so having another experienced individual helped jog said matters along. Though the clone was hesitant at first, after months of rapport building, he was grateful.

Not only was he finding himself appreciative for the extra set of hands, but Tech discovered that he was quite enjoying your company. You were clever, agreeable, and understanding, along with that you seemed to always find his endless wealth of knowledge pleasant. The accurate way you managed the repairs of his ship, first by managing his hesitancy well and then demonstrating consideration for his methods before ever handling something he cared so much about, really surprised him. Your approach to his usually off-putting demeanor was a welcomed change in his life and the way you subtly encouraged him appeared to warm his heart in a way he hadn't previously encountered.

He'd found that his eyes lingered on you from afar longer than he realized, only noticing that he'd been staring when you'd look over and smile at him sweetly. The light in your eyes, whenever you'd smile at him, twinkled so effortlessly, almost as if there had been stars placed directly behind them solely to enchant him.

It was as if you were another creature entirely, one he'd never analyzed, one he knew nothing about- because everything you did fascinated him. All the ways in which you carried yourself, laughed with his brothers, tended to Omega, your wit, the charm you retained...it all was remarkable to him. He began to notice himself craving your attention. Tech dreamed of you laughing for him, smiling at him, every moment he was awake you invaded his thoughts.

So to have you crouched down beneath the hull of the Marauder, handing him parts and tools for repairs made him impossibly delighted. This was a life he could get used to, for a long time. The ability to bond with you- and only you- in this way for the rest of his short life, he would fight for it, no matter the threat. If this was what life could be for him after he and his brothers no longer needed to fight, he would be far and beyond content. He'd feel whole.

"The spanner now, please," Tech's smooth tone echoed back to him from off the metal hull.

Taking a moment to grab the tool, you placed it squarely in his hand, "Of course." Your voice was sweet as ever to his ears, the sensation of your fingers grazing his gloved palm sending tides of bliss to his heart. How he desired to remove his gloves to truly discern how your hand might feel in his. Odd thought, he knew, though nevertheless one he often had run through his mind. Other equivalent ones situated themselves among his standard reflections; such as how your cheeks might feel cradled in his palm, or how your eyes might sparkle even more at his displays of affection toward you.

These introspective ideas were not ones he had been programmed with, he understood that very well, but then again wasn't that the whole point of him and his brothers? They weren't droids. Even with protocol and planned executions, wasn't the beautiful part of having your own identity the potential for...emotion? Sentiments?

Love?

The brilliant clone pondered these notions for many hours during hyperspace travels, staring endlessly into the streaking atmosphere while everyone else lay in their bunks asleep. Upon his further analysis and pensive state, he conceded that he did, indeed, love you. Even though he expected it to never be possible, for him anyhow, it clearly was. And there it was, staring up at him with stunning eyes and an adorable smile- all wrapped up in one woman who waited for further instruction to aid his work.

"Whatcha smiling at, silly?" A giggle brought him out of his reverie and he cleared his throat, handing the spanner back to you while muttering a quick 'my apologies'. "It's no big deal, you know I don't mind," another soft chuckle at his sudden behavior change. "Just curious what has you in such a good mood lately. You never smile this much- not that I'm complaining, of course. You look happy and I like that, it suits you." The smile he watched spread across your lips brightened your eyes so preciously that Tech felt as if his heart were going to lock up. You were absolutely breathtaking in the setting sunlight, the warm glow radiating your beauty.

It wasn't too long after your comment that he acknowledged he'd been staring once again. Tech blinked a few times, regaining his composure- sure to remember the planet's rotation cycle so he could bring you out into the setting sun one more time before leaving so he could truly memorize the way you looked in such a spectacular site. "I suppose it would be an alarming circumstance to see my sudden change in attitude if you are accustomed to my rather pragmatic and steadfast manner." He spoke slowly, trying to gauge his words carefully, looking back up at the repairs he was currently working on.

To say he was usually practical was an understatement and even he knew that, but he continued nevertheless- "Screwdriver, please."

A quick hum in reply from you and the tool was now in his hand, his heart buzzing at your lingering touch, making certain he had hold of the screwdriver before pulling away. "Though," Tech found himself speaking before he realized, hesitating after the word left his mouth.

Should he continue? Would you be uneasy at any admission of his affection, or even just simple favor, toward you?

He found himself suddenly apprehensive at the possibility that he could ruin the favorable conditions he'd found for himself with you. But with your reassuring voice, you spoke his worrying thoughts away, "though, what? Got too many thoughts running around that extraordinary mind of yours to just pick one?" The pleasantness in your prodding had a warm smile of his own spreading across his lips now while he worked against a stubborn bolt.

"Only a few at this very moment, so it would appear, mesh'la." Tech's reply was soft, soft enough that he thought only he'd heard himself until you stood beside him now. He glanced to see your head tilted with ever lovely, inquisitive eyes prompting him to continue his outspoken thought. Realigning his eyes to the bolt, Tech licked his lips anxiously, "Ah, I must have spoken aloud without realizing." He clarified softly, a burning sensation rising to his cheeks.

"Well now you gotta continue," you teased with a smile, "It's not every day that your genius mind only has a few thoughts in it to speak of."

Tech knew he was skating near a precarious edge, but the more you gazed at him expectantly, the less he cared and only desired for you to continue your total obliteration of his typical sensible behaviors. Taking a deep breath, the enhanced clone steadied himself before expressing, "At present, I have found that my foremost thoughts are exclusively about you. During the maturing of our relationship these last few months, it would seem that less and less of my thoughts are as constructive as they had been prior to our closeness, as troubling as that may sound." At your silence, Tech chanced lowering his arms to stand before you unimpeded by work, attention entirely yours.

The rise of your brows and the slight part in your lips made his heart thud painfully against his chest. Though, he noticed the sparkle in your eyes hadn't dissipated, perhaps he wasn't ruining anything as he thought he had been. "I am mindful that it may come across as peculiar, or eccentric, for me to have said that," Tech began cautiously, calculating your evolving expression. "Nevertheless, it is the truth. I...find you to be the most compelling woman that I have personally had the fortune of knowing. You are quite literally the only part of my life that I find myself frequently enchanted by." As he spoke, Tech found it easier to alleviate himself of the mountain of praises he'd been repeatedly considering when in your presence. He discovered he could continue voicing your worth, just as he could gaze at your beautiful face for an indefinable amount of time if only you'd allow him.

In the face of your silence, Tech cleared his throat once again to calm himself of his growing concern. "Though I'm aware of my capacity to express thoughts without stopping, I must say that your added input on this matter would prevent the inclination of my elevating heart rate."

"Tech..." The way his name left your lips did the contrary of what he had just requested, scrambling his heart rate instead. Tenderness touched the curve of your lips as you stepped forward close to him, directly into the space he usually reserved for only himself until he saw how much more exquisite you were when he had the opportunity to look down at you. This close he could see every mark, every small scar, the way the color of your eyes shifted as they glanced back and forth around his face.

"Stars," he breathed, "you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, mesh'la..." Tech muttered to himself in wonderment. As if no barrier had ever existed between you, Tech reached out to caress your face, marveling at how you reacted by pressing your cheek further into his touch. "If you were to provide me the honor of showing you my devotion, I would be certain to surpass any expectations you may put forth." Spellbound by the intimacy he'd found himself in with you, Tech longed for more. He yearned to feel the softness of your cheek on his skin, not through his filthy gloves. The way you deserved to be admired was wholly and profoundly, without any impediments. As his eyes danced between yours and the way your smile began to fade, Tech brushed his thumb along your cheek, cursing his GAR regulation blacks. You'd hardly said a word other than the sweet whisper of his name before you approached him, and even if this instance was all he'd ever receive from you, he'd relive the memory a hundred times over. Though he worried he'd said too much again.

Or maybe you were as entranced as he was, presently. "My dear, I don't mean to ruin this moment, however, I-" and before he could finish speaking you'd surged upward toward him, pressing your lips against his.

Astonishment rushed through the normally sharp clone as he felt the weight of your body pressed against his chest plate. After only a moment, though, Tech reacted- refusing to squander his opportunity to kiss you as he had dreamt many times over.

Wrapping his arms around your smaller figure, one hand came to rest between your shoulders and the other cradled your head affectionately, holding you as close as he could possibly have you. The plush of your lips brushed so flawlessly against his as he admired the softness they possessed. Tech knew upon impact that he would never tire of this, of the ability to hold you as he was, nor his newfound gift to kiss you.

You pulled away all too soon for his liking, the sigh escaping his lips sounding as pathetic to him as he was sure it sounded to you. Your smile was even more gorgeous than he'd seen it yet, though he was sure it was due to the recent discovery of just how incredible your smile tasted against his lips. Tech debated whether he should move at all for fear of you slipping away even sooner, but relented to adjust his goggles, matching your smile. "I believe that is a sufficient response to my yet posed question."

With yet another unpredictable act, you cuddled closer into his space, folding your arms in between your chest and his, and tucked your face into his neck. "I'll be happy to answer any others you may have with the same reply, whenever you need, handsome." You replied with a soft laugh.

Encompassing you once again within his embrace, Tech felt his cheeks warming, noting how the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and he knew couldn't blame that for his reddened face. His breathy chuckle rumbled against his chest plate, "I shall keep that at the forefront of my thoughts."

#star wars #the bad batch #tech #tbb tech #tech bad batch #tbb #tech x reader #tech x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x reader fanfiction #x female y/n #tech is so beautiful #tech fanfiction #tech fanfic #tech fluff #tech bad batch fic #the bad batch fanfiction #tech girlie #tech stan #tech request #fic writing #bruhwhat stories #clone wars fanfic #clone trooper #ct 9902 #clone trooper tech #clone 99002 #clone trooper 9902 #tcw

[bearw-me]

Hey there, Could you maybe Write a fic of Lute with a sinner reader who is actually really good at fighting her, but eventually gets killed by her during an extermination while the reader is protecting a friend. Only Lute starts really missing the reader afterwards, but what Lute doesn't realize is that the reader's actions caused them to get redeemed and she bumps into them in heaven. Thanks in advance!

sorry it took so long anon! you don't know how many times i rewrote this until i was satisfied! REALLY hope this lives up to the request lol

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 — 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞

𐐒 includes : lute x redeemed!reader (enemies to ?), roommate mentioned 𐐒 cw : mentions of death/killing/blood, readers a major badass, mentions of reader trying to behead lute, there's fluff i swear 𐐒 summary : she hates you. she hates you. . . and yet, exterminations just don't feel the same without you anymore. 𐐒 word count : 986 𐐒 note : love this dynamic sm!

She hated you, with every fiber of her holy being, she hated you.

Every extermination was the same.

The portal to hell opened like a volcano, spewing up steam from hell's fire and the smell of brimstone. Lute cast her spear down, signaling for the exterminators to begin their descent on the red sky.

Like many times before, hell watched in horror as the horizon spilled forth thousands of dark angels, slaughtering bloody paths through the city.

Lute stared into the abyss, the lovely screams of sinners like music to her ears. She sighed, a soft, sinister smile crawling across her lips.

Her foot stepped into the empty air of hell, free falling over Pentagram City.

Like the other times, she did her duties as the lieutenant of heaven's army. Running her path like a woman possessed. Duty and adrenaline coursing through her wings.

And just like all those times before, you laid between her path.

"I'll kill you," You warned with a huff, the sword in your hand trembling, but never falling. "Don't come any closer!"

Lute looked you up and down this time, drinking in your appearance.

Not much to look at, at first. Not much muscle on your arms, trembling legs. . . a dark glint in your eye. The same one all sinners possessed.

You were in hell for a reason, and Lute would make you pay for it.

She pointed her mighty spear at you with one arm, the holy weapon nearly crossing the distance between your two bodies. "This is what you deserve scum," she hissed.

You shook, like you were afraid in her presence, but never looked away. . . never stepped back.

She liked it.

Or at least, it was admirable. . . for a sniveling sinner.

"You're not getting away this time," Lute promised, dropping her spear to her side and standing square with you, her wings unravelling from her back, fluttering and hissing like the mighty angel she promised she was.

That's when recognition hit you "Your... You're that angel." Then a soft, uncharacteristic smile appeared on your face "Was last time not enough of a fight for you!"

Lute fist tightened into a white-knuckle grip around her spear, her other hand absentmindedly shooting up to her neck.

You could see it written all over her face: the fear of being beheaded this time by your blade.

With no warning, she burst straight-forward, spear pointed at your chest in fury.

With every hit, every punch and broken knuckle, you kept standing. Not relenting to her power in the slightest, but pushing her back. The fight like an intricate dance between enemies bent on destruction.

Lute screamed, wielding her spear high above her head and bringing it down onto you, your sword blocking the blow.

The angel used her wings to push down harder against you, the wind of her might kicking up dust and feathers in attempts to crush more than just your body.

You didn't even have the power to make a sound, holding the blade up with trembling arms.

The scream Lute heard wasn't yours.

Someone called your name, a loud sob "Please don't die!" they begged you.

You shoved Lute off your sword, the force enough to send her flying back with a snap, spear clattering against the asphalt. Before you could run to your roommate, you swung at Lute.

All she could hear was ringing, her head spinning violently as she willed herself to open her eyes.

Lute blinked blearily, realizing with horror that her mask had cracked in half, the vision on her left eye plain and exposed to the horrors of hell. With wide eyes she rose uneasily to her feet like a zombie.

"You," she mumbled, "YOU!"

You turned just in time to bring your sword up in defense, Lute once again raising her spear above her halo.

You didn't even know angels could fly with a broken wing.

As if time stopped, Lute's attacked shifted to the trembling girl behind you, your best friend who craved escape. . . you're best friend who deserved safety.

Four months after the extermination, Lute found herself prepping the raid on hell with less enthusiasm than before.

Adam's shoulder punches of excitement bordered on annoying now.

And the Seraphim's wishes seemed pointless.

More like the order's that they were than a fun task to undertake herself. The days just seemed to blend into the next. No excitement, no real challenge.

Was that what you were to her?

She sighed.

All the millennia that had passed. . . she had never felt so- so empty, so void?

Was that the right word? She thought to herself uneasily, moping in her thoughts as she walked the promenade.

All she knew was that it happened the extermination she had finally prevailed over you.

And she didn't even know what your name was. . .

That was a weird thing to think wasn't it?

The thought made her heart feel heavy. It wasn't guilt. No. . . it was.

Without looking where she was going-or you for that matter, the two of you collided, the force sending you backward.

Before you could fall, Lute caught your wrist, steadying you.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologized quickly, a blush creeping its way across the bridge of your nose.

Lute could only stare, mouth parted in awe.

"I wasn't watching where I was going! I'm sorry, I'm not used to this place. . . uh the promenade I mean." You explained messily, trying to cover up your mistakes as you fumbled over your words.

Lute's wings jumped from her back in surprise, only to recoil from the shooting pain her broken wing caused.

And recognition hit you both like a truck.

Lute's eye, unmasked that night, paired with the broken wing.

And you were the same, besides the fact that you traded your horns for a bright golden halo.

#hazbin hotel #imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #fluff #hazbin lute #lute x reader #lute x y/n #lute x gender neutral! reader #lute x gn!reader #angst #mentions of death #mentions of blood #mentions of killing #redeemed reader #fight #fic #oneshot #drabble #angst with a happy ending #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #what happened #but still

[thegildedbee]

Choice: May 10 Prompt from @calaisreno

Program Note: Here, apparently, is my version of the Fall (I didn't know I had one until writing this 👻 in response to the picture the word "Choice" prompted in my mind's eye.) Because I'm doing these on the hoof, you may find aspects that don't make sense or contradict something I wrote previously and so on. I point this out not to whine,😊 but to invite you, if you're perplexed at anything, to feel free to let me know, in the notes or by message! I'll add any feedback re incongruities to my own growing list of errors, and, if I do something with these prompt puppies someday in actual fic form, I'll be sure to ponder any observations you send my way! ( tgb 🐝) ...........................................

Fleeing from Kitty Riley’s home after Moriarty's escape, Sherlock is more furious than he has ever been at any time in his life, and his breathing is shallow and patchy. He stands in the middle of the street, caught in indecision, as he watches John paging through the cuttings in Jim’s “Richard Brook” file folder, his heart beating erratically, his mouth pressed into a line that twists into a grimace, despair evident in every centimeter of his body. 

John registers the sudden quiet, and looks up distractedly, his forehead creasing in concern when he spies Sherlock suspended between one side of the street and the other, immobile. 

“Sherlock? What? What is it?” 

Sherlock’s brain has been stoppered along with the rest of his body, through the force of the emotional tsunami racing through his nervous system. He closes his eyes briefly, registering the storm inside: fury, despair, futility, chaos, blackness, and a deep unhappiness that any semblance of okay has disappeared, blown far out of sight and beyond his reach. His mind stutters on the last one, and he suddenly knows where he should be. 

“There’s something I need to do,” he says grimly, looking at John as if peering at him from a vast distance, which he is. He feels his thought processes beginning to slowly start making connections again.

“What is it? Can I help?” John says, confused, tentative.

“No. The rest I have to figure out on my own.” Sherlock turns away from John and breaks into a jog on his way to Bart’s, intent on catching Molly before she leaves the building, his feet pounding in a dismal cacophony as he makes his way. The mounting tension pressing against his skin from deep inside his body levels off when he catches sight of her in the hallway, and he skids to a stop and flags her down. 

“Molly. Earlier – when you said I looked sad, and asked me if I was okay. You were right. I am sad, and I’m not okay. Time is running out. I have very little room to maneuver, and none at all if I can’t find an ally I can trust. You said you didn’t count, and that’s not true. You do count. I’ve always trusted you. That’s why I’m here now. ” 

He looks at her intently, saying urgently, “I need your help. Moriarty has injected a lethal poison into the world that surrounds me, and its effects are accelerating, and they’ll soon take on a life of their own, if they haven't already.” He stops, fists balled up, his fingernails sending sharp stabs of pain through his system. 

Molly returns his gaze, also intent, scanning his face, her forehead furrowed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I think I’m going to die.”

“Explain.” 

“I will. But first – it’s important for you to know that you can tell me no, for what I'm about to ask” he says softly, slowly, carefully. “If I wasn’t everything that you think I am – everything that I think I am – would you still want to help me?”

Molly looks back at him, steady on. “Sherlock. You are many things, some good, some not so good, some peculiar, some hard to fathom, some astonishing. Inside these walls, I have spent thousands of hours reconstructing lives with you, and beside you. I know who you are when you are here and I know it to be who you are when you walk back out these doors.”

She sits down on a stool, and says gently, “Tell me what you need. I’ll do my best to help you.” She watches as Sherlock gives her an achingly helpless nod, an expression that she doesn’t think she’s ever seen before on his face. “It’s urgent, yes? Let’s get started then. What do you need?” 

“You. I need you. Your medical expertise. Your access to Bart’s. Your ability to work with my streetside networks. Your solidity. Your counsel.”

As he speaks, Molly sees him beginning to regain his footing, and says, encouragingly, “Go on.”

“Moriarty is nearly done setting up his fun house mirrors, reflecting a false image of me to the world, destroying my reputation. I think he means for this all to end by making it seem as if I’ve committed suicide, when it will actually be by his hand in one way or another. It’s inevitable.

“I have a very few hours to try and tilt the odds in my favor. I need to meet him at a time and place of my choosing – in the morning, here at Bart’s, on the rooftop. No cctv; no outside intrusions; no other people at hand. Just the two of us, finishing the game he’s been playing, moving the last two pieces on the board: him, and me.

“But the roof, Sherlock. That sounds incredibly dangerous. What if he forces you off the edge?”

Sherlock continues, his tone grim and determined. “It may come to that, although I will do my best to turn the tables on him. I won’t know until I meet with him what options are viable. I hope to capture him; my best chance of repairing the damages he's made by his slashing through my existence is to take him alive. But it may not be possible. The roof we’re standing on – he may go over the side; I may go over the side; we both may go over the side. I am going to try and prepare for these eventualities, but I have very few resources I’ll be able to have at hand. I’m afraid that, in the end, it will come down to the unanticipated, and to whatever luck the universe will allow.”

“If you fall – how are you going to manage that?” Molly probes, worried.

“Before I answer you, first -- when this is happening, I’m going to need you to be in contact with Wiggins. Hold on, let me make sure he’s gettable.” Sherlock steps aside to send a text and then sets down his mobile -- and then immediately picks it up again, glancing up at Molly. “One more – stay with me,” and his fingers set to work sending a message to another number. He regroups, then at the feel of his mobile vibrating, holds up a finger. “Okay, Wiggins is standing by for instructions after we’re done."

Sherlock takes in a deep breath and pauses, and then takes in one more. “I’ll ask him to have members of his crew gather signs that can be placed to block off the street, and arrange those people so that they can reinforce the restricted access. There will be a crucial period when there should be nobody on the street who is not one of our confederates. He’ll text you when that is, and I’ll need for you to keep a lookout and provide help from inside the building, in heading off any of Bart’s personnel who may be at ground level for some reason, and who look inclined to leave the premises.

“That’s one thing. The next is if I’m injured. I’ll need for you to assess the situation and, only if it’s absolutely necessary, get some of them to help you route me to the emergency room. But only if it’s absolutely necessary. You know that my definition of absolutely necessary will be much further out on the scale than anyone else’s. Anything short of that, I’m asking you to triage me yourself as best as possible until Mycroft appears.

“Mycroft is helping, then?”

“No, not yet. I can’t be sure he’s not compromised. After whatever events transpire on the roof, I’ll know which it is, but I don’t have enough evidence yet. If I’m dead, it won't matter which it is. If I’m conscious, I can let him stay, or send him away and zigzag myself away somehow, whichever makes sense.”

Molly waits quietly, absorbing all the details she's being entrusted with.

“There are two items I need, and I’ve told Wiggins where to find the first – one of the old-fashioned nets that firefighters used before modernizing their equipment, in the case of suicidal jumpers or people up several stories high, caught in a burning building. They’re circular, but they’re stored folded in half. There’ll be a large laundry truck at the site, and the net will be stored hanging on the outside passenger side panel. Wiggins’ people will grab it, open it, and hold it – and we’ll hope for the best.

Molly's eyes dart back and forth, turning over the scenario. “But Sherlock, that’s incredibly risky. If the net is that old – whatever material it’s made out of could have degraded over the years, as well as depending on how it's been stored. It may not hold, and that’s if you actually land on it.”

“Or I can land on it, and it holds, but the momentum causes my body to bounce off of it, and I may get smashed up even so," Sherlock says evenly.

“Or no matter how hard they try to manage it," Molly continues, "one or more of the people holding it could falter, causing it to tilt at an angle, or even drop it before you land, or drop it if and when you hit it, come to that."

"Yes," Sherlock affirms. “Or there could be a wind gust that throws things off. And so on. I know. As clever as we both are, I’m sure we could find more specifics of what can go wrong. But at that point I’ll have no control over the matter, so spending more time on it now won’t help me stay alive."

Sherlock’s mobile vibrates again, and he reaches out quickly to grab it, as if it is something vital to hang onto while floating across a stretch of ocean, lost. After he reads the message, he also sits down, the stool catching him as he sways, and slips, holding him up.

Feeling some of his rising panic receding, he says, “There, that’s the second piece. There’s a small company about an hour outside of London, D30, that makes body armor for extreme athletes who ski, use motorcycles, and so on, people who attempt jumps and find themselves falling from a height, and need impact protection. They're doing work for the military now as well. They’re brilliant chemists, and they’ve been working with polymers and created a material that’s soft and pliable, but when hit with force it goes rigid, dispersing the force at the points of contact, and then returns to its original state. I’ve texted one of the engineers to see if they can bring me something to wear, and they should be here within the hour. It should help some."

“That's good," Molly says, although the stern cast of her face is at odds with her words, the reason why revealed with what she says next. "Sherlock, what about John? Why isn’t he involved in this? Or is he, toward some other end?” Molly asks, tense and apprehensive.

“Whether or not Moriarty and I actually physically struggle, I may still need to make the choice to jump, because I may need to buy time up ahead to be safe from Moriarty’s people while I try and neutralize them – especially if I can’t trust Mycroft. I may need to appear to have died."

Sherlook looks her in the eye, and then drops his gaze. “I’ll need two forms of evidence to bluff being dead. One is to have you do the autopsy and sign the death certificate. For the second verification, I'll need a compelling witness at the scene, and that will be John. I will need for him to believe I’m dead, no question, in order to convince others, as everyone will be looking to him over the days ahead, to see if there are any falsities about what's happened, and if he puts a foot wrong, it will all be for naught. He’ll have to be there to confirm my fall and how it killed me.

“There’ll need to be some stagecraft – I’ve stored some blood in the empty cadaver bin at the end of the last row on the bottom, which you’ll need to hand over to Wiggins, and which they'll spill around my head. I’ll place a rubber ball in my armpit that I’ll squeeze against my side, and that will stop my pulse along that arm."

Molly looks dissatisfied with the chain of thoughts Sherlock is sharing, but she remains quiet. "An additional bit of insurance that this will go off as it should," Sherlock continues, noting her disquiet, but shrugging to himself mentally, "there’ll be a bicycle rider who will collide with John to slow him down as he moves toward where I've landed. When he stops to help John up, he’ll place one of his riding gloves over John’s nose and mouth. His gloves will be soaked in a substance that, when John inhales it into his lungs, will immediately hit his bloodstream; he'll be light-headed and disoriented and somewhat clumsy for a short while. After it clears his system, he’ll assume that how he felt will be due to the shock of seeing me fall.”

Having heard all she can without responding, she slides from her stool and stands up, bending her elbows and placing her hands on her hips. “You’ll tell him, won’t you? He’ll be devastated if he doesn’t know the truth, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock shrugs, this time physically, his countenance withdrawn, his voice hesitant. “Initially, maybe. But I don’t think that John’s regard for me is based on a solid foundation. I told him once that heroes don’t exist, and that even if they did, I’m not one. But I think he’s invested in my being an infallible genius, and a chief reason he's stayed with me is that he has a front row seat to watch me perform my mental gymnastics. I’ve been observing him over the last hours, taking in the information that has been amassing that I’m a fraud, and I think it’s starting to have an effect. Even if he doesn’t completely believe everything they’ll say about me, if he believes even some of it, that will be the end of us. And if he does manage to set all of that aside -- I will have irreparably disappointed him by not being able to anticipate Moriarty's game and to beat him at it . . . and, in fact, to have done as badly at handling Moriarty as anyone without a brain would."

“Sherlock, I don’t think that’s true about John," Molly says insistently.

"You may be right, Molly. But beyond me, beyond myself, the horrible stories that are being spun are catching John within the web as well. The collateral injustices he will have to bear is thatof being an object of curiosity, of pity, of scorn -- at the very least -- and, much worse, he will come under suspicion himself of having been duplicitous." Sherlock sinks his head down into his hand, his expression wrecked and weary. "I don't want to add fuel to that fire, and divorcing him from myself and my work is the only thing I have of value to give him, in a poor imitation of compensatory and punitive damages for loss of employment, emotional distress, and product liability," he says forlornly, his tone edging into bitterness.

"Sherlock, even so, you need to give John a chance to let you know how he’s responding to all of this. Don't assume you know his mind."

Sherlock's eyes dart back and forth, lighting anywhere but in her direct line of sight. "I will, Molly. I’ll see him one more time, here in the lab before I go to meet Moriarty. I’ll be able to tell what he's decided about me then, after he’s had time to take in the latest theatrics and make a judgment. I'm sure he'll let me know what he thinks of me, and how he feels."

........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper rest of the @s in the tags, which will work for communication purposes, I hope? just say the word if you want to be untagged or tagged xoxoxo

#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

[oneofthosebells]

Not managed to pull anything proper together yet for Wille's month, but the Day 11 prompt (Future), reminded me of a crack fic idea I kind of really want to write one day...

Erik gets a vision of his own future somehow (psychic, witch, friendly angel, take your pick) shortly before parents' weekend and the car crash. But it's a limited vision; he gets flashes of his own death, the funeral, the video leak, Simon breaking up with Wille - twice - and lots of flashes of Wille suffering and heartbroken. Disturbed by the vision, Erik drives (slowly and carefully for once) to Hillerska for parents' day where he quickly sees that Wille is head over heels for Simon.

So, of course, he asks his good pal August to give him the lowdown on Simon, and August is more than happy to badmouth the rude, money-grubbing little commoner who shows no respect for his social betters and isn't at all a suitable friend for a prince. And Erik realises that not only was his vision of the future true and that Simon is going to break his little brother's heart, but that it must be Simon who leaks the video, for money or fame.

So Erik, with August's eager help, sets out to get rid of Simon any way they can. But every plan fails. Because they hadn't reckoned with just how far Wille would go to protect Simon and prevent him being kicked out of Hillerska. Wille calls his brother in an outrage that August is trying to get Simon expelled for dealing drugs?! And how DARE he when it was all August's fault in the first place, and he's never actually paid Simon for any of it, and can Erik throw some royal weight around and back Wille up in proving Simon's innocence and getting August expelled instead please? Because they can claim August is just blaming Simon to cover up his own misdeeds in stealing/buying ADHD meds from other students. [Sara can testify August tried to buy meds from her, and there's no actual evidence of Simon's involvement as no money has exchanged hands and there's no second lot of meds with Micke's name on in this timeline]. Erik can't tell Wille he's not on Simon's side, and to his horror, there's enough evidence against August on top of unpaid tuition fees to get him kicked out.

The weeks/months go by and Erik gets more and more desperate without his mole on the inside - because Wille seems blissfully in love and happier than he's ever been whenever he speaks to him, but Erik knows Simon's going to break his heart, he's seen it. And he knows for definite that Simon is a wrong 'un - he got August expelled! He's anti-monarchy and a socialist! He's clearly a bad influence!

Then one day, Wille calls him upset because he had a big row with Simon, and maybe they are just too different to make it work, and he thinks this is it, they've broken up - but then Erik's hopes are dashed when Wille calls him happily the next day to tell him actually they've sorted everything out again.

Erik's frustrated and desperate and maybe losing the plot a little bit by now because he's been obsessed with ending this relationship for so long now he's almost forgotten the original reasons why. But he does remember the one thing from his vision that would definitely break them up - the video leak. Erik doesn't have a video, but he does have revealing photos - (probably August took them, haven't quite worked out the details of that one yet) - and as Erik's obsession with getting rid of Simon at any cost reaches a peak, he clicks send on the anonymous tip off to a journalist...

(@youngroyals-events)

#willemonth2024 #okay it's a bit more erik than wille #actual fic would be very much about their relationship though #probably partly or mainly wille pov #happy ending of course #erik learning some lessons #also hi yes i'm alive #life's been A Lot lately

[fuckyesfeysand]

Creator Highlight #6 - @thesistersarcheron

Welcome back to Feysand Creator Highlights!! We want to take a moment to recognize the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use up so much of their freetime and creative energy to share their work with us!

Today we'd like to highlight @thesistersarcheron. A multi-shipping phenom, her feysand fics are some of the best writing we've come across in any fandom anywhere. With one simple turn of phrase or one piece of imagery, @thesistersarcheron has us all laughing, crying, or unspeakably horny depending on what emotions she'd like to elicit from us

Besides her immense talent, @thesistersarcheron is also incredibly fun to interact with. Have you ever sent her message? Do it! You won't be sorry- any chance to experience her quick wit and easy sense of humor is time well spent.

Check out some of our favorites from her:

Bejeweled:

Every court has their own Great Rite with unique, ancient traditions. The Night Court’s priestesses have played coy with Rhysand since he inherited the throne last year about what imbuing the land with his power really means; all they tell him is that he is meant to spend the night in the Night Court’s mines dripping in ceremonial jewels while everyone else gets to attend the orgy without him.

He doesn’t expect to find Feyre, a faerie made of crystal who leads him on a chase deeper and deeper into the mines as the Rite’s magic overcomes him.

Poltergeist, Darling:

Feyre swallowed her horror and raised her tattooed hand. “The bargain was only for the rest of my life.”

Rhysand's grip on her tightened as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Tamlin and I didn’t shuffle your corpse around for a week every month, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had to do some good old-fashioned graverobbing to get you, Feyre.”

Her spine stiffened. Prick!

--------

What would have happened if Feyre wasn’t resurrected Under the Mountain?

The Alchemy:

“Are you the High Lord?”

Rhys bit back a laugh and raised a brow. “If you have to ask, you don’t get to know.”

“My sister says the High Lord is an arrogant, preening prick who surrounds himself with bastards and sycophants.” Insult after insult rolled off the little girl’s tongue, stilted and rote in a way that spoke to memorization instead of understanding, and Rhys grinned.

Cauldron fucking fry him, she was charming.

—————

When the High Lord of the Night Court meets a neglected but promising young artist, he decides to take her under his wing and move her to Velaris to sponsor her education at the best art school the Night Court has to offer.

(Or, the fic in which Rhys decides he can raise his young mate better than the Archerons can and actually does it.)

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#feysand #pro feysand #creator highlight

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/749680765765337088/a-food-but-in-this-context-it-doesnt-really#notes

Ohhh, it's good to have a term for this. Out of curiosity, what would you say is the line between like.... not whitewashing a character, reflecting their culture, not just Writing Them Like a White Person.... vs. giving into these kinds of stereotypes?

I'm in a fandom with a prominent MENA character who is one of the more popular characters in fanfic, and this character largely isn't defined around "his culture" in the canon. A lot of people see this as a problem to correct. I think sometimes that they could do some thinking for why a non-white character needs to be "close to their culture" and they don't similarly do this for white characters who come from specific countries, but I get that some of this is coming from people from that background who want to see themselves represented better in media and are tired of their culture being erased. To me the difference between what I've seen in fic from those people reflecting their real-world experiences (or also, non-MENA people who are more informed) is that there's an awareness of how modern culture is not the same as traditional culture, and how most real people do some picking and choosing of what practices they embrace and which they are could do without. The stuff where you can tell it's an ignorant person trying to be "progressive" but just being Orientalist is when they feel like they have to check off every single box for what it is to be "Middle Eastern" to them, and all those boxes just so happen to coincide with media stereotypes. I was wondering if you thought that was the line too or if you also had some other ideas about how to avoid the "space tamales" thing.

--

The biggest help is just to write a three-dimensional character with internal motivations that make sense. A decent amount of stereotypical tripe is the result of weak writing skills. But yes, thinking there's one specific standard for a group and needing them to be very different and marked is a lot of the issue.

The space!tamales problem shows up heavily when people do things like conflate completely different cultures (Latin America has more than just Mexico in it) and when they completely ignore canon to graft on what they think of as "authentic" (many canons set in space are not actually set in the future of our earth, and the ones that are are often set many centuries in the future when cultures will have changed).

The equivalent would be the Old Guard fandom thinking that people from the Crusades era are going to strongly identify with the modern cultures from their places of origin. I mean, they might... if they've been living there lately... But that's certainly not the only possible interpretation, and they're absolutely not going to be equivalent to a current 30-something from there.

[sxcret-garden]

4th Desire ღ Hush, My Dear [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ words: ~5.8k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, a bit of angst, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, semi-public (they have to keep quiet cause reader’s family is literally in the other room), quickie, clothed sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pain kink, biting (idol receiving), he’s lowkey mean… again askjfkljas, orgasm denial, praise) ღ warnings: reader has a difficult relationship with her family, mentions of her mother trying to convince her to wear a dress to an event even though reader doesn’t like wearing them, mentions of a bad experience Jongho had in his past relationship, (him running his fingers through reader’s hair)

Desc.: Dinner with your family goes about as you expected - you’re slightly uncomfortable because of their choices in conversation topics and very much bored. Luckily, your boyfriend tagged along and knows just how to make you feel better, and in the process he too seems to be able to finally let go of his worries.

Author's note: This has a bit of a different pacing than the chapters so far... fun fact! It's also the first chapter I wrote for this fic... no I don't write them in order, that would be way too simple kalsdjflksda

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“Necklace or no necklace?” you ask, raising your voice a little so your boyfriend would hear you in the other room. You hear footsteps, and not much later his figure appears in the doorframe to his room, where you’re looking yourself in the big mirror next to his wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear.

“Y/N…” he mutters your name, and as you shoot his reflection behind you a look, you immediately respond,

“I know…”

“It’s just your family,” he says it nevertheless and he walks over to you. Coming to a halt right behind you, his palms find your waist as he lets his gaze take in your figure through the mirror. “You don’t have to dress up for them.”

“I know,” you say once again, peeling yourself out of his hold in order to walk over to the far end of the closet, pulling out yet another different necklace. “This one?” you ask and Jongho gives you a huff, a sympathetic smile showing on his face.

“Did you hear what I said?” he questions, coming closer to put his hand above yours. “Wear what’s comfortable. Your parents won’t expect you to look like you’re going to some big event.”

“Well you’re the one talking…” You shoot his outfit a look - neat black pants paired with a knitted sweater in dark colors and a button-up shirt underneath it. You can tell he put at least some thought behind it.

“Hey,” his gums show as he smiles at you. “I’m trying to leave a good impression on your parents, okay? You’re their daughter, not the boyfriend who needs to make sure they like him,” he chuckles.

“They already love you. You could show up in pajamas and they’d be fine with it,” you retort.

“I wouldn’t take it that far.” You put the necklaces back to their assigned space in your boyfriend’s wardrobe, before closing its doors. You decide against wearing one after all.

“Actually… we still have time, so I want to ask you something,” you start, turning towards him. “Let’s sit down first?”

“Sure.” You notice by the way his stance changes ever so slightly that your partner can sense you have a more or less serious question. Really, you’re just curious about something that’s been on your mind for a while now. Making yourselves comfortable in the living room, you clear your throat and pose your question.

“You’re being very careful… ever since we started experimenting more while having sex,” you state. “And I appreciate that! It’s just making me wonder if there’s a reason to that, other than for general safety’s sake? Because I feel like you really don’t have to check in with me as many times as you do.” You were afraid he might not share your opinion on this, and feel criticized for something that seems perfectly reasonable to him. But to your relief he seems to know what you’re trying to say.

“Ah… you’re right,” Jongho responds, and then he thinks for a while. “There is a reason for that, actually,” he then says. You guess it might have something to do with his previous girlfriend, and it looks like you’re correct in that assumption. “I told you about how me and my ex tried going in that direction too, right?”

“Right.” The way he suddenly becomes very serious makes you tense up as well - it’s like a barely noticeable darkness reflecting in his gaze.

“So we didn’t want the same things… a lot of the time. There was this one specific thing - I’ll spare you the details here - that she kept wanting to try out but I always said no because it felt too risky for me.”

“Makes sense.”

“And one day we were out with friends, drinking.” You have a hunch what his story might lead up to, and you furrow your eyebrows as you listen on. “And we came home tipsy. Not totally drunk, we were still aware of what we were doing, but also not sober. And this time I gave in, thinking if it’s something that will give my partner pleasure, it will be fine.”

“It wasn’t fine…?” you guess, and a short and regretful laugh escapes him.

“No…”

“Oh,” you breathe.

“I hurt her that day. Not seriously, and not permanently. But it could’ve been avoided… and I think that’s why I’m being so extra careful with you. I swore to myself after that, that I wouldn’t do certain things if I’ve had something to drink or I’m too tired.” He glances up at you now, one finger swiping his hair covering his face to the side as his features soften, and he looks at you as if you were the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “But I guess I’m more afraid of hurting you than I thought I was.”

“So that’s why…” you respond. “I thought you were overdoing it a bit,” you admit. “But now I get why you’re so focused on making sure I’m okay at all times… thank you.” Grasping his hands in yours now, you look him right in the face. “I mean it. Thank you for keeping me safe.” He can only watch and blush when you bring your joint hands up, brushing a kiss onto his knuckles with your lips. “But now I’m wondering… can you enjoy it like that? I mean.. it must be stressful to always carry that fear with you.” There’s a complicated expression on his face now, and he hesitates for a second before he speaks.

“Yes and no,” he answers honestly. “I am enjoying it, please don’t misunderstand! But… yeah, I think you noticed that overall I’m not letting go as much as I might be able to without those fears. Except for last time…”

“When I called you-”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t let you say it out loud, and you wonder why. Does it really affect him that much?

“Then…” You give him a reassuring smile. “When you’re ready to let go of that fear, you can. I trust that you won’t hurt me. And I promise I will say something if you’ve overstepped a boundary or I feel unsure about something. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mouths. You get up to take a step towards him, closing the distance between the two of you, and you put your arms around him, bringing your hand up into his hair as he leans into your embrace. “Sorry for overcomplicating things and not telling you sooner,” he mutters, but you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him, fingers combing through his locks. “You have a very good reason. Don’t feel pressured to go against your gut feeling, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you too for understanding.”

You remain like this for a while, and the longer you stay in this position, the harder it becomes to tear yourself away from the warmth of the hug. However, eventually you force yourself to step back anyway, because it is soon time to make your way to your parent’s place.

It’s half past 6 on this Saturday when the two of you arrive at your destination to have dinner with your parents and your grandparents. The invitation had come suddenly, and not completely unrelated to your cousin revealing that she and her long-time boyfriend would get married soon. Your mother had already warned you over the phone that she wanted to discuss some “details” with you, and that you and Jongho should come over for dinner on the weekend. You could only guess that those details would be mostly about trying to convince you what you should wear for the occasion according to her, and once you arrive at your childhood home, it doesn’t take long for that fear to come true. 

“Oh my, who do we have here?” your mother greets you and, mostly, your boyfriend, who she seems to like a lot. It’s really no secret that ever since you first introduced him to her, she too wishes her daughter would get married soon. Though you’re nowhere near ready for taking such a huge step, so whenever the topic arises, you do your best to quickly switch to a different one. However, today her concerns aren’t of your marital status, but of - as you had guessed - your planned outfit for your cousin’s wedding. 

Pulling you aside after making sure everyone else is seated at the dinner table, entertaining themselves with a conversation about who knows what, her demeanor immediately changes and she becomes serious.

“So, Y/N…” The moment she calls you by your name, you startle just a little bit. “I’ve been thinking.” Whenever she uses that line, you know something uncomfortable is about to go down.

“What is it?” you reply, acting as if you didn’t already know the answer.

“For your cousin’s wedding… you’re not gonna show up in that suit again, right?” Memories of the last occasion you decided to go with neat dark blue dress pants and a fitting blazer instead of the dress that multiple people apparently expected you to wear come back to you and you gulp. 

“I was going to,” you say, and your mother sighs. It’s a condescending sigh, one that’s supposed to tell you how naive and young you are and how you should trust your mother’s words, who surely knows better. 

“You should wear a dress at least for her wedding,” she says. “Don’t you think? I mean… every young woman there is going to wear one!”

“How do you know that?” you dare to talk back at her, but she raises her eyebrows at you in response. Evading your question, she continues,

“You’re so young and such a pretty girl! It would be a waste if you went in pants.” With a bitter taste in your mouth and a glance towards the living room where the conversation seems to be dying down a bit, you retort,

“Mom, can we talk about this another time? I think everyone’s waiting for us to join…” Not expecting your attempt at getting out of this uncomfortable conversation to work, you’re surprised when she gives in and you find her agreeing with you. 

“Okay, I’ll call you about it during the week. Don’t even think about not picking up!” she adds, lifting a finger as a silent warning, and then she lets you off the hook, walking into the living room where everyone else is gathered. Letting out a deep sigh, you too follow.

Eventually you reach the part of the evening where the conversations of your family members are starting to bore you. Just because you've moved past the uncomfortable questions (at least you know your mother won’t bother you about your outfit for the wedding in front of the others) doesn't mean you feel particularly up for engaging in their small talk and occasional political debate. If you're being completely honest, you just might've been fine if it was only the small talk.

Yet here you are, watching your parents and grandparents argue about economics and politicians, and from the way Jongho is reaching over to place his hand on your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze as he tries not to frown too much at what's unfolding at the table, you can tell he notices your discomfort too. And it's not like you didn't warn him, it's not like he didn't assure you multiple times that it's fine, he doesn't mind, he wants to come to your family dinner anyway. But now you can't help but feel apologetic to him. 

As if he knew what's going through your head when you shoot him a look, your eyebrows furrowed, he shakes his head and leans in to whisper in your ear,

"Are you okay?" Frankly, you're not okay per se. Used to this is what you are, and equating one with the other in your mind, you give him a weak nod.

"They'll stop... eventually," you whisper back, so the people in question wouldn't hear. And they really do stop a mere moment later. To your dismay, they pause their noise only to comment on you and your boyfriend instead.

"The two lovebirds... look at how they can't wait until they're alone." It's your grandma of all people who makes the comment, a knowing grin sitting on her face and you feel uncomfortable. You know it's just how people act when they see a young couple - they tease. But that doesn't mean you particularly appreciate what's probably just an expression of them being happy for you.

"Mom!" your mother exclaims and everyone laughs. You glance over at Jongho, and you see him smiling along to their bickering. It's a polite smile, nothing more, because he knows how much you hate receiving this kind of attention.

"Well it's true, isn't it?" your grandma defends herself, the creases around her eyes deepening with mischief. "We were like this too when we were their age." Now she shoots your grandpa a look, one filled with warmth as he gives her a somewhat awkward laugh because of her straightforwardness, and then puts his arm around her frame to pull her in close for a moment. You can't help but wonder if you too will still be as in love with your partner once you've reached their age, and your gaze naturally wanders over to your boyfriend sitting next to you. The familiar sight of his smile, the way he lowers his head ever so slightly because after all he's still a little shy around your family, and the way he sits up straight the exact moment your father asks him a question to start a conversation all fill your chest with warmth. Without thinking, he lets his palm glide up and down your thigh once as he answers, and just as you're about to put your hand above his, he deprives you of his touch, gesturing along with the way he talks instead. You listen to them chat as the rest of the family returns to political debates, and in your father's face you can unmistakably see that, just like your mother, he's taking a liking to your boyfriend, and it fills you with relief. And yet you soon find your mind drifting off again, wondering what would happen if your boyfriend put his hand back on your thigh, letting it wander just a bit higher. Wondering how far he could technically go without anyone else at the table noticing - though you know he’d never cross the line in front of other people. And so instead you fantasize about how he would continue unknowingly riling you up, or maybe he’d be aware of it, he is Jongho after all. He’d tease you and keep an eye on you all while making sure to keep the conversation going naturally, so that not a single soul would even guess that you’re craving for him to touch you, and he’s craving for you to beg for it. And then, after dinner is finally over, he’d pull you to another room, and-

Jongho’s hand actually returning to your thigh pulls you out of your thoughts, and as he glances over to you, noticing how your mind is drifting off further and further from the conversation at the dinner table, he moves his palms a little more towards the inside of your leg. You almost startle at the sensation, and at what it inevitably stirs up inside of you, and so you turn to look at him. As soon as you do, you find him already staring back at you, the expression on his face having changed almost unnoticeably. He leans in to mutter something in your ear again, and with it, his fingertips move towards your middle just a bit, sparking desire deep inside you once again.

"Shall we get out of here for a minute?" Thankful for his suggestion, you nod, and with the excuse of you having a headache along with assuring everyone that you'll be fine, you just need some quiet, so as to prevent anyone from following you two, he leads you out of the living room and towards the bathroom at the other end of the corridor. As soon as you close the door behind you, locking up as well, he pulls you towards him by the hand he's already holding.

"You okay?" he asks, his eyes wandering to your lips instinctively, and with his free hand he captures your chin.

"Whatever..." you breathe.

"Don't say that," your boyfriend retorts, tilting his head to the side a little, now looking you in the eyes instead. "I can tell you kept zoning out in the middle of their conversations."

"Can you blame me?" You give him a huff and a weak smile as you look away and he lets go of your chin to comb his fingers through your hair instead.

"No, to be honest." Now he as well shows you an apologetic smile. "What were you thinking about when trying to drown out the sound of their arguing?" 

"Just... nothing much," you answer, suddenly worried about whether he saw right through you or if his question didn't have so much meaning behind it after all.

"You sure? I noticed that you were upset when I took my hand away earlier... you sure it was nothing much?" You gulp at his tone, the way his voice alone reveals that he very much has a pretty good guess about what you've been fantasizing about for most of the evening. And at the same time he's now taking a step towards you, forcing you to back away and eventually your behind hits the edge of the sink, with your boyfriend now towering above you.

"I..." you try to say something, but it seems your body language already tells him everything he needs to know, because now he's placing one hand on the small of your back as he leans in, his lips hovering just beside your ear.

"Cause I've been thinking about dragging you off to somewhere else and putting you in a better mood for a whole while now." You swallow thickly, and when he takes a proper look at your face to see your reaction to his words, all you can do is part your lips and whisper a confession.

"Me too." He retrieves his hand from behind you, his palm wandering to your sides and then to your front, dragging it up across your chest and letting his fingertips graze your throat on its journey to finally cupping your face. Your eyelids flutter shut almost instantly as his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, and then he leans in, coming to a halt a mere inch apart from you.

"Want me to entertain you for a bit?" His enticing offer leaves you unable to do anything but nod, and when you take a glance at his face you don't miss the look he’s giving you, knowing he already has you under his spell. However, Jongho doesn't leave you much time to think about it as he kisses you slowly, a pace meant solely to make you crave for more. You throw your arms around his shoulders as you let him part your lips to deepen the kiss, and still it ends too soon. The pleading expression in your eyes only makes him chuckle, but for now he gives you what you undeniably want and he kisses you again. 

His hands wander towards your hips eventually, and after pulling down your pants and underwear just enough for comfortable access, one of his hands keeps you in place while the other finds your core. A mere finger, dragged up and down your folds painfully slowly, is enough to have you moan into his kiss, and next thing you know he pulls back and ceases all motions. Shaking his head at you, he mutters,

"They might hear us."

"R-right..." you whisper an answer, already having forgotten all about your family still chatting merrily not too far away from you. 

"Let's be careful," Jongho says, shushing you while momentarily removing his hand from your side. Not letting you wait, he continues his teasing motions, and you bite your bottom lip as you try not to make a sound under his touch and his more than curious gaze scanning even the tiniest of your reactions. "What?" he whispers, a somewhat mocking tone in his voice. "Didn't think you'd already be that wet just from thinking about me all evening." And before you can even come up with anything to say in your defense, he dips a finger inside you quite effortlessly, and your hips instinctively buck into his hand. The act makes him smirk, and he pushes you back into the edge of the sink to keep you from moving around. Clicking his tongue at you as quietly as he possibly can while the amusement in his gaze is apparent, he says,

"So impatient." Furrowing your brows, you shoot him a pleading expression that causes his features to soften, and he adds another finger. "That what you want?" Nodding, you can see his eyes growing darker, and you squeeze yours tightly shut as he watches on, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Feels so good, hm?" he keeps talking, his voice low and quiet, and you dig your fingertips into the fabric of his shirt where it covers his shoulders.

"Y-yeah..." you answer, doing everything in your might to keep your volume at a whisper.

"Shh," he, however, shushes you. "Don't talk. You don't wanna risk getting caught, do you?" And so you do as he says, merely shaking your head vigorously, and earning yourself a kiss brushed against your lips.

"Good girl." And then he picks up the pace just a bit, thumb now pressed against your clit, and the way he curls his fingers against that perfect spot deep inside you makes your head spin.

"Fuck," you mouth, and you earn a sharp look from your boyfriend, but he keeps going nonetheless. You can feel your knees getting weak as you melt under his touch, heatwaves rushing through your body with every time he pulls out and pushes back inside. And then, just as your high starts building up in your stomach and you throw your head back, he pulls out just as slowly as he started. For a second you stare at him blankly, but when he takes a step back, you immediately find yourself protesting.

"Don't do this... not now, please..." You can tell exactly how satisfied he is with himself for riling you up like that and then withdrawing just as you were about to find your sweet release by the cocky grin he's giving you, head leaned back ever so slightly so he could triumphantly look down at you even better.

"Why?" he asks. "It's far too risky to let you lose control. Remember?" He leans in closer now, his fingers that have just been inside your pussy merely a few seconds ago now brushing against your lips just before he leans in, the tip of his tongue licking your juices off your mouth. "They might hear us." Unable to say a word, all you can do is reach out for him, cling to him as he tries to walk backwards.

"No, please... baby... need you so bad..." You press your thighs together tightly as you speak those words, his gaze immediately dropping down to your legs as he registers the movement, and as his pupils darken, he slowly lets his eyes wander back up to your face.

"Then what do you want?" 

"Just fuck me please... do whatever you want but please fuck me..." 

"Love..." he calls out to you rather softly now, quite in contrast to the firm grip on your ass that he pulls you towards him with. You suck in a breath as you can unmistakably feel his bulge against your lower stomach, but Jongho doesn't waver. "I don't think you can keep quiet if I do whatever I want with you."

"I can... please..." you push him, and he seems to ponder on your plea for a moment. Just when he lets go of you, you think this is it, you're not getting what you want tonight, but then you see him unzip his own pants, and before you can think any further, he orders, 

"Turn around." You don't hesitate. All you do is do as he says, facing yourself in the mirror as you bend over the sink as far as the insufficient space between its edge and the glass surface in front of you lets you. You can see his eyes being glued to you from behind, one hand moving to your back and pulling your shirt up as your boyfriend moves it towards your shoulders, while he's giving himself a few strokes with the other. His palm wanders back down, fingertips tracing your spine, and you arch your back for him as he follows your shape, eventually letting his hand rest on your ass.

"That's right," he mutters, rubbing circles onto your skin before squeezing the flesh. For a second there you prepare yourself for impact, but he's already steadying your hips, aligning himself with your cunt. Even just his tip parting your folds makes you shudder, and so he leans forward, until he can comfortably place his hand over your mouth.

"Is it okay if I do that?" he asks, whispering, and you nod your head in desperation. At this point you think you'd comply with almost anything if only he finally filled you up, and at the same time you feel warmth spreading in your chest as he checks in on you and makes sure you're comfortable. And then he pushes up into you, forcing you to bite down a moan that would've almost escaped, and you find yourself agreeing with his earlier words. There really is no way in hell you could keep quiet when he has his way with you. And yet you manage to keep it down as he settles inside you with his full size.

"One sound and I won't let you cum, got that?" he warns, and you can barely nod as he begins rolling his hips into you. Though he starts slow, he too seems close to losing his composure as he picks up speed, using you to chase his own high as well. And even though the pleasure keeps gradually building up deep inside of you, you can keep it together so far. However, when his other hand lets go of your hips so he could rub circles against your clit instead, you know he's about to drive you insane. And so, as a moan threatens to escape your throat, you do the only other thing you can think of as an alternative - you sink your teeth into the palm of his hand. With him bringing you closer to the edge with every repetition of his movements, you don't pay attention to the impact of your actions, but when you bite down harder you can suddenly hear your boyfriend hissing a curse above you.

"Fuck..." Finding the reflection of his face in the mirror and the way his features distort in pleasure as he fucks you harder only causes you to apply even more force to how you’re biting down on his palm, and in turn he tightens his grip on your face. Squeezing your eyes shut as you're about to roll them back from all the sensations coursing through your body, your orgasm comes crashing down on you, shaking you whole. Only a mere second later, a strained grunt escapes your boyfriend as he cums inside you, halting at once to allow for you both to come down from your highs.

He pulls out carefully as you release his hand, and grabbing a few paper towels, he begins cleaning you up. With one arm around your waist he helps you stand, the other wiping clean the insides of your thighs, making you shake whenever he grazes your still sensitive core. 

"You okay?" he asks finally, placing a kiss just below your ear as he holds you close, letting you rest with your back against his chest.

"Yeah..." you whisper, before remembering his hand. "What about you?" You turn around, reaching for his wrist to take a closer look at his palm, only to find very apparent bite marks there. You can't help but snort at the situation, remarking, "Well, I guess it's not the noise we need to worry about now." 

"Ah... right..." Taking a look at the mark himself, an embarrassed smile now graces his face, gums showing as his ears take on a soft shade of pink. You take a hold of his hand again, bringing it up to your mouth now.

"It's okay," you say, blowing some cool air onto it, before placing gentle kisses all over the mark. "I'll make it better."

You return to the table significantly later than what would’ve been a timespan where you could be sure nobody would get suspicious, but thankfully the only question you receive is whether your “headache” is better now or not as everyone’s busy cleaning up the table. Your boyfriend immediately takes a heavy looking stack of dirty plates from your mother’s hands and carries them to the kitchen instead, and once again it makes you happy to see what a good impression your parents have of him. 

“You really picked a good guy, Y/N,” your mother tells you as she moves over closer to you, and you agree silently as you glance over to where his back is disappearing in the kitchen. Caught up in your feelings, you startle as she claps her hands together next to you, the loud sound immediately makes you look at her. “You get to work too! You’re gonna have to be a good wife to him!”

“Mom!” you call out, finding several things that bother you about that sentence, but in the end only addressing one. “We haven’t even been dating for that long!”

“Oh,” she throws one hand over her mouth, before smiling with a hint of mischief in her eyes, just like your grandma had done earlier. “Sorry, I got ahead of myself. But can you blame me?” Now putting her hand on your shoulder, she points in the direction of the kitchen, and following her movement with your eyes, your gaze soon comes to rest on your boyfriend, who gives you a smile upon noticing.

“Jongho,” you call out to him to make him come over to you. “Can you tell my mom to stop simping over you?”

“What?” they ask, in unison, but very much for different reasons, as your boyfriend can’t help but smile in amusement, whereas your mother adds, “What’s simping…?” And before you can explain, your boyfriend chimes in,

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” 

“Ah, well,... either way, someone’s gonna have to get dessert ready, and I assume it’s not your father,” your mother switches topic, shooting you a look. And then, glancing at Jongho and then back to you, she adds, “But that won’t be a problem you’re gonna have, right?” Walking away with that, she leaves you to protest in vain and to internally die of embarrassment, and when you see your boyfriend merely laughing at the situation, you’re not sure if that makes it better or worse. 

“God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here…” you mutter, but he shakes his head, one arm snaking around your body loosely.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” he tries to reassure you, and yet your mood won’t change.

“But I’m not… I hate it when they are like this. They act like we’re already married…”

“Hey…” He pulls you aside, fingertips dancing down your arms until he takes a hold of your hands. “They like me. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess…” you say, averting your gaze because you really don’t want to keep discussing this, but at the same time you can’t shake the feeling that they’re taking this too far too quickly. And instead of dwelling on the topic, your boyfriend now finds reason to complain about something entirely different.

“You guess?” he asks, his tone making it sound like he’s upset, but the playful spark in his gaze as he raises his eyebrows at you tells you he’s just fooling around. 

“I mean… no, it’s a good thing,” you correct yourself, shooting him a thankful smile for attempting to cheer you up and then letting him pull you into a quick hug, before your mother starts calling everyone to the dinner table again in order to have dessert. It’s self-made chocolate cake, sweet just as you like it, and even though you know it couldn’t possibly match your boyfriend’s tastes, he still finishes his entire plate.

“This is why they like you so much,” you mutter eventually, when people start moving again to get ready for bed. “You’re risking a tummy ache just to make them happy.” He can’t say anything to that, having been caught red-handed by you, who wouldn’t not know his ulterior motive behind forcing himself through sugary hell. So instead, you get up, touching his shoulder lightly as you do. “Let’s get ready for bed too?”

You help your mother put the remaining plates and cutlery into the dishwasher before brushing your teeth and eventually moving to your old room with your boyfriend. Making yourselves comfortable under your blanket which is that much fluffier than the one you’re using at his place, you immediately feel sleep tugging at your bones and you let out a content sigh.

“Say…” you mumble, facing him as you’re both rolled over onto your sides. “You didn’t seem so anxious about possibly hurting me today.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he whispers a response, sounding as if he hadn’t really noticed that fact himself.

“Is it because we didn’t have much time?” you ask, grinning at the thought of your dirty little secret that you’re keeping from everyone else in the house. Jongho thinks for a short while, but then he shakes his head along with an “mh-mh” coming from his side.

“Because I trust you.” Your smile widens at his words. “I think the trust that you’ll say no if you want me to stop is finally bigger than the fear of accidentally hurting you…”

“That’s good,” you respond, reaching out to place your palm onto his cheek, squishing it lightly between your fingers and contrary to the expected reaction, Jongho merely raises his eyebrows at you slowly, as if he couldn’t properly process what you just did. Letting go of him, you move your hand towards the back of his head instead and your partner shows you a delayed shy smile. “I’m really glad for that,” you whisper, before you roll onto your back and he reaches out for your hand in order to place a goodnight kiss onto the back of it.

“Me too.”

#ateez smut #jongho smut #ateez x reader #ateez x fem reader #ateez x you #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez series #ateez drabbles #jongho imagines #jongho x reader #smut

[kawataslvr]

could you do Reader x Mikey where reader works at a cafe part time & one of their regulars is Emma(occasionally dragging along Draken) but this time she brings Mikey along too & and when its his turn to order, he gets all nervous when reader asks for his name & order which catches Emma’s attention to which she quickly pipes up “Oh y/n this is my sorta famous brother! with the bike gang i was telling you about! you can call him Mikey!!” winking towards the end, seeing how flustered they both were becoming, Emma knew that reader wanted to meet Mikey after hearing about all the stories Emma had told him and meeting Draken, his best friend, wondering what Mikey was like. after eventually getting Mikey’s order, the trio left and Emma’s teasing began as they walked home, noting to bring Mikey to the cafe more often, or maybe he decides to go on his own even more often, having coffee dates with reader during their breaks or when its not so busy, after awhile Mikey finally confesses and ask reader if they would like to go on a bike ride sometime and then they end up on a hill or something watching the sunset together, then when Mikey brings reader to his apartment(lets pretend reader pays for their own place) but when saying bye, reader panicked and kissed Mikey which led them to the bedroom and doing the things they had been dreaming of since the first coffee date

or yknow, something like that lmao, i get so carried away with these requests im so sorry 😅 dont have to add the smut if u dont wanna, doesnt have to be written or written immediately either!! thanks!!

Cafe Shop .ᐟ

Note : I actually enjoyed writing this very much ,, Changed smt up a tad. Lit my longest fic yet fr

P.S: I know the request said it doesn’t have to be written immediately but this took overly long, i had huge writers block. 😭

You worked at a cafe shop right around the corner of the Sano household, so it was only natural Emma became a regular at the said Cafe shop, well.. her and sometimes Draken, who to your knowledge was always dragged in to the cafe against his will.

You two became close friends quick. Seeing how talkative the girl is, it wasn’t really a shocker. She was more of a talker than you for sure, you mainly always listened to what you she had to say and gave your advice from time to time.

Yet somehow, her older brother Mikey only came up until today. Emma sat down at the booth infront of the counter. “Hey (name)!” she smiled , while you got out the ingredients for her usual order.

“Hey Emma, i’m assuming it’s the regular?” she nodded her head and gave you a warm smile, as usual begging to tell you about her day again.

the conversation went back and forth while you made her usual Caramel Machiato and whatever bread she picked that day, until you noticed she brought up her brother “you have a brother?” you tilted your head slightly in confusion.

You set down her coffee infront of her and let her pick up whatever bread she wanted, Emma’s head peering up at you “I never told you about him?!” she let out a dramatic gasp. But really, she thought she did..

Well it’s not like you didn’t know ANYTHING about him, a little..?? Anytime you ever heard about him was because of a “meeting” of some sorts but that was only when Draken swung by with or without Emma. “No, I thought you were an only child Emma.” your voice sounded offended and dramatic while you looked at her with a fake pout and closed eyes.

“I’m sorry (name).. please.. forgive me” you both laughed after the whole fake scene you made, you looked up at the time “my breaks almost over, hurry up and tell me now.” you really only made Emma drinks DURING your break, you know you would get to distracted talking to her if you actually did serve her without being on break.

Sadly, your alarm went off right before she got to tell you “i’ll talk to you later and tell you about him!” she got up and you put your apron back on helping your friend who also just got off break.

After your shift ended, you texted Emma and you two met up mainly just walking around while she told you about her older brother, eventually the conversation had drifted off into whatever.

But you had to admit you were certainly curious about the boy, even when he wasn’t the main focus during you twos current conversation.

You looked around and then opened your phone, 7:40.. you were supposed to be home earlier to wake up early for work.

But you just got so caught up, now you have to walk back all the way home. “Emma, I should probably get going.. it’s already past 7:00.” you sighed.

Looking at the VERY long walk you had to take back home, and how sleepy you were.. you really considered just passing out thinking about it.

“Emma!!” A man’s voice called out, making both your heads turn. The sound of a motorcycle following behind it before it paused.

“oh! Hey Mikey!” Emma turned over to the blond boy who was still sitting atop of his bike. “what are you doin’ out this late?”

Mikey took a quick glance at you, well.. multiple.. “I was just talking to my friend! (name) this is Mikey, my.. sort-of-famous-brother! the one in the biker gang!” you nodded your head and stretched out your hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you.” you gave the blond a nice warm smile.

it took him a few seconds to actually shake your hand, not because he was being weary of you.. but because he was so stunned by you. So.. awe-struck by you.

When he finally made contact with your hand, he froze up completely.. not that you were any better, seeing how awkward and shy you turned.

Emma smirked at the encounter, getting all giddy seeing how you two definitely took an immediate “liking” to each other. “Mikey, (name) here has to walk all the way back home, can you give him a ride?” Emma winked at you, while you died in the inside wishing a hole would come and eat you up.

“Oh, please it’s not a big deal. I can walk back.” you two finally let that way to long hand shake go, you wouldn’t have minded if it was anyone else.. but you had to admit you were already developing a crush on this guy.

“Don’t worry I can.” he gave you a little smile, Emma’s plan slowly working, surely.. but slowly. I mean, you two were already reeking of being in love whenever you met she couldn’t just miss this opportunity up!

You sighed and gave a defeated nod, you would probably end up passing out before you actually got to your apartment if he didn’t drive you back home.

After a few moments you finally agreed, Emma only had to walk two minutes to get home, she was fine off.. but she knew you had to walk a couple hours.

You and Mikey started talking just fine, sure a FEW flirty remarks here and there.. well maybe a bit more than just a few. But you two were actually getting along great.

The only thing that worried you was.. were you really supposed to be this close up to Mikey, I mean.. touching his back and holding onto his torso directly?? sure you were afraid of falling off but you felt like you were suffocating the dude.

Mikey knew he made you purposely sit closer than usual to him, only making you more nervous.

“Alright, where do i turn from here. Y’know i don’t just know where to go magically right?”

“oh! take two turns to the left and go straight from there until you see a (makeup a random checkpoint in a tad lazy)” Mikey nodded and continued going, you had to admit this was much better than walking.. 3 hours turned into 40 minutes. Only because Mikey was driving slower than his usual fast pace. He actually wanted to get to know you.

“Soo where do you work?” the silence was broken and you looked over at the blond “Oh, it’s that Cafe shop right around the corner of your house.” Mikey’s head perked up, that meant he had an excuse to visit you now.

“Ohhh at (cafe name)?” you nodded your head, finally seeing your apartment in sight you two got there pretty quickly.

“thank you Mikey.” you got off the bike and waved each other goodbye.

You sighed and slumped down onto your couch putting your palms back up to your face. “geez.. I need to calm down, it’s just some random guy I just met.” you sighed and smiled.

The thought of him was just so sweet though. Not that you could ever actually go out with the dude, he was out of your league and you two just met. It wasn’t like you would just get together with him.

You ended up falling asleep on the couch thinking about the guy, it had been a while since you even stayed up thinking about a guy.

The next day at work it’s like the universe meant to curse you, because Emma decided to come in with Mikey and Draken to the shop.

Knowing emma she was doing it on purpose, not to spite you or anything but because she saw how much of a crush you developed for the guy.

Emma was an expert when it came to love, or well.. so she said herself anyways. You greeted the trio and took their order. It wasn’t your break time, so they couldn’t really stay it was just for a short drink.

But the second Mikey stepped through that door you were a mess again, you took Emma and Draken’s order pretty swiftly, quickly. not waisting a second, but you froze up whenever speaking to Mikey.

Wasn’t like he was any better, he froze up just as much if not more. “What would you like?” you finally were able to muster up, even if it sounded slightly chopped up.

It took Mikey a second to fully process everything, especially with your sweet honey toned voice talking to him . “oh just a (order)” you nodded your head and went to make the trio’s orders.

Taking a deep breath and calming yourself down while you went to the back to go grab something real quick for the coffee’s , your coworker pointing out how nervous you looked and the slight blush on you. Only making you panic worse.

You calmed down, went back to making coffee’s and handed the three their order. “Thanksss (Name)!” Emma said while she took a sip of her drink, Draken and Mikey waving goodbye and the trio finally left.

Emma had gone back home.. she had already walked around enough yesterday with you and half of today, so they dropped her off at the sano house.

“Oí, Mikey, Can I ask you something?”

the short blond gulped down the rest of his taiyaki treat down his throat and looking over at the taller.

“eh? what’s up?”

“you’re into that (name) guy aren’t you.” Draken said in an almost teasing-tone laughing at the way Mikey’s face turned bright red.

“Ken-Chin what the hell!? Stop laughing!!” The blond caused a tantrum over this ordeal. Saying he didn’t, then saying he did?? then saying he might, then saying he just thought you were real cute.. then back to him liking you.

“it’s obvious you like this guy whether you like it or not.”

“Really, i haven’t seen you freeze up like that at anything over than a brain freeze from ice cream. You’re hopeless!”

“what should i do then.” Mikey slapped his hands on his hands and gave a long sigh. Draken was a little slumped on that one, he was more swinging to girls than guys.

“I dunno.”

“you sound like me , you aren’t helping.”

divider

the conversation had led to no where, they just ended up side tracking.

Mikey drove around time, but you were still on his mind. And it was already turning late, to only worsen things he saw you outside the cafe shop where you worked at stopping his bike.

“Oh, Hey Mikey.” he froze again , he was worse than Hakkai around a girl.. really. “Hey (name).”

“what brought you around here, if you’re gonna visit me then i’m already off y’know.” You softly teased at him, giggling a bit.

He forgot how pretty you were, god..

“I was just driving by, talking about that.. do you need a ride?” he was sure he sounded like a starving homeless chihuahua being held at gun point right now.

“Oh if it isn’t too much a bother.”

he just waved for you to get on and scooted over to make room for you to sit on. Helping you mount on. “thank you.” he never heard such a honey toned voice.

or met a guy so pretty. “you remember the way? or do i need to guide you again?” your teasing was making his feelings about you grow crazier.

If you were being honest, you were worse than he was on the inside. Just really good at pretend.

NSFW WARNING !!!

“Thank you Mikey.”

“No problem.”

it just felt way too empty, wayy to empty. something was missing really, you couldn’t shake it off.. and Mikey clearly couldn’t too.

Both of you stood quietly, the silence was so loud. You two had the same idea .. apparently, both of you kissed each other.

For quite some time.

“Mikey.. you wanna come in?” your voice was so quiet, and out of breath. He only nodded as you shakily pulled out your keys and opened your door, Mikey holding onto your waist and breathing down your neck .

Leaving soft kisses along your neck, you could feel his breath on you. He couldn’t wait for you really, maybe it was just you two be pent up with your feelings, but you two needed this. Clearly.

He pushed you down onto your bed and started taking off your clothes sucking on your neck and leaving hickeys. “Mikeyyy..” you whimpered , taking off his shirt, he took off the rest of his clothes swiftly after you took off his shirt.

He opened your night stand, as expected finding a bottle of lube. It was barely used, and definitely not used.. you really hadn’t used it since you were so busy with working and paying your bills.

“oh you’re really neglected huh?” he teasingly whispered into your ear. pouring the lube on his hands and kissing you while he shoved his fingers in your tight hole. Your moans were being swallowed by his kiss, his tongue didn’t even struggle for dominance.

Mikey’s fingers slid across your velvety squishy soft walls, only imagining how good they would feel around his cock.. he couldn’t wait anymore. He pulled out and you let out a annoyed whine, Mikey didn’t expect you to be so bratty. “calm down..” he shoved the tip of his cock in, making you moan, a needy loud and long moan.

“Mikeyyy.. pleasee…” how could he ever deny your pleas, really. He shoved his cock into your hole, his pace wasn’t as soft as his fingers.. it was fast and rough. He smiled watching your face turn into overwhelming pleasure.

Mikey gripped onto your hips tight as ever, his voice becoming deep, similar if not the voice he used whenever he was at a meeting. His commander voice, the combination of his cock sliding into you at a brutal pace and his assertive voice as he whispered into your ear.

The pre-cum leaking out of your untouched cock , you swore you might’ve cummed untouched. You were supposed to stay quiet, it was a unspoken rule you two had clearly set, but you could care less as you practically screamed Mikey’s name. Wasn’t like he was complaining, but your neighbors might..

turning incoherent as his thrusts becoming deeper and harsher, he started to kiss and suck on your neck again.

You were gonna have to hide those in the morning…, not that you were focused on that anymore. Mikey started to stroke your cock up and down, soft long strokes. Torture, but the fast force he was using in your ass was definitely making up for it.

You felt a white sticky liquid inside you, shortly after you felt yourself orgasm as well. “f..fuck sorry.. you feel so good..” he pulled out and grabbed some random rag around your room and cleaned you up.

“Boyfriends?”

you nodded your head as he cleaned you up.

#mikey x male #mikey x y/n #mikey x male reader #mikey tr #mikey fluff #mikey angst #mikey fanart #mikey smut #mikey #mikey x reader #manjiro x male reader #manjiro angst #manjiro sano angst #manjiro x reader #sano manjiro #tokrev manjiro #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #manjiro x you #manjiro x y/n #manjiro smut #yandere manjiro #manjirou x reader #male reader #tokyo revengers #x male reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #x bottom male reader

[taste-thewaste]

guys. we're getting a sequel. if you'll now allow me a few years seconds to be sappy

i've been a fandom girly on and off since i was 16. it hasn't been constant--there have been years of gaps in between some fandoms--but for more than half my life, i've been fandom'ing. Writing fic, squealing with internet folks, buying merch, immersing myself so much in a piece of media that it becomes my personality for a time.

it has never felt anything like it's felt in this fandom.

in the five months i've been here, i've made an incredible amount of real connections with people, that i think will actually stand the test of time. i've grown incredibly as a writer and as a person. shit i've discovered weird shit about myself, pieces of me that i didn't know existed, parts of me that i really and truly love.

this movie, this book, this fandom has helped me say words to myself (and to some other people) that i've never been able to admit in 33 years: i'm queer.

and now we're getting even more content, and i'm so fucking excited.

i've never been part of a fandom at a time when new stuff was being actively made. every time i came to a fandom it was after the fact, after it was already made or airing or over. i wasn't here the first time, when RWRB was made. I've been a fan of the book since 2020, watched the movie in 2023, but came to the fandom in January.

and like my bestie @england-would-fall and I have talked about, I get to experience it all from the beginning. i get to see behind the scenes stuff, observe the process as the movie is actually being filmed, scream with yall when the trailer drops. WE GET A PROMO TOUR THIS TIME. and i get to do it with so many lovely people, who i deeply care about.

man i know this is sappy but this is what i needed. thank you for being here with me. thank you for helping me feel like i'm not alone. <3

#blog #i'm sorry this is so sappy lmao #but it's who i am as a person

[codgod-moved]

i’ve decided i’m probably not gonna bother writing an actual multichapter fic for the nether prince tango au because i think if i do i will just end up crying /j

#.txt #/srs to the probably not writing it. the /j is for the crying #i think i’m having more fun worldbuilding and coming up with designs and dynamics #than i would have actually writing all of this into a fic #i have a timeline/plot written out for everything it’s just the actual Writing writing that’s not fun #maybe i should just get someone to help me with it #i still might end up writing Something but idk

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely think that from a moral standpoint Glenn made the better choice at the end of the trial- in fact I think one of the most tragic things about that scene (where we hear Glenn’s reasoning and all that) is that if you needed irrefutable proof that Glenn is both a good person and a good dad, there it was! But of course by that point it was already too late.

But… Sometimes I find myself thinking about… How to put this… If Nick had learned of his dad’s decision, do you think he might have… Taken it the wrong way? Do you think if Nick Close had learned that Glenn chose to give up being his dad, he would have understood this as the ultimate act of abandonment? Or that his dad didn’t see him as someone worth fighting for? Not that I think Nick would have wanted his dad to fight the dragon either per se, but… Well, maybe deep down some part of him would have, actually.

#I frankly don’t know if this one is coherent! But I really do think about this a lot actually. As much as it may seem unimportant. #Also Nick Close posting is gonna become my new favourite thing I think #dndads #dungeons and daddies #Nick close #glenn close #glenn close dndads #nicky freeman #🤔 will this resonate with anyone other than myself? Who can say! #I really did think that somehow Glenn’s decision at the end of the trial would have somehow been used as proof that his verdict was wrong #But alas the Burch man would not have it be so easy… #I really do need to get back to writing lawless (a fic of mine!) at some point 😤 #Even if that story is about all the kids- and though you wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell by what’s currently out- #It is actually at the base of it all a story about Nick Close