#Hi hi to everybody I've yet to respond to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vroomvro0mferrari · 6 months

Text

CL16 | Oblivious

Sorry it took me so long, I was really busy with finals the last couple of weeks but I've finally finished the fic from the poll! I hope you like it :)

Summary: Charles has been blatantly flirting with Y/N for months, but she's the only one who hasn't noticed.

Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader

WC: 2.4K

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Charles was busy in the garage, talking with his mechanics when he saw her walk in. Y/N Sainz, the younger sister of his friend and teammate. He had seen her many, many times when she came to support her brother at his races. It seemed like Charles could sense her presence, knowing she was there without having seen or heard her, always looking up right when she walked in. Y/N Sainz was greatly loved by the Ferrari employees. With her bubbly personality, witty jokes, and bright smiles, all the team members enjoyed her presence. And Charles couldn’t help but feel the same way, although Y/N was completely oblivious to his affection.

His face lit up when their eyes met, instantly smiling at her company. As soon as she was close enough, he greeted her, “Ah Y/N! Nice to see you again, you look lovely today!” He grinned.

“Oh, thank you, Charles. You’re so kind!” She responded with a bright smile as she hugged him in greeting, the flirty undertone going by entirely unnoticed.

Charles had been enamoured with Y/N since the first time they met. In an effort to not come off too strong and scare her away, Charles tried to flirt with her subtly. However, after several occurrences without any reaction from Y/N, it seemed his flirting was too subtle. Either that or she was not into him. But he couldn’t give into that possibility just yet.

As time passed and Y/N became a more familiar face in the paddock, Charles’s flirtations became bolder. He’d constantly try to include her in conversations and would make up all kinds of excuses just to talk to her. Whenever he did manage to string her into another conversation, he’d try to make her laugh as much as he could. Simply because he could, and because he loved to see her happy and smiling. And if he was feeling really confident, he would even go as far as to touch her arm or the small of her back while they were chatting away or walking around the paddock together. Nevertheless, to Charles's frustration, Y/N didn’t seem to notice his underlying motives, dismissing his actions and words as nothing more than friendly gestures.

Meanwhile, everyone else who had ever been around the duo seemed to have caught sight of the one-sided infatuation and attempt at courtship. Everybody except for Y/N had noticed Charles was desperately trying to make his feelings for the girl obvious, but she simply kept friend-zoning him. Frankly, he found it embarrassing.

Nearly all of Charles’s fellow drivers had been caught up in one of his attempts to woo Y/N while she simply brushed his compliments off as friendly comments. It was hard not to notice Charles’s fruitless flirting when he did it right in front of them, but they didn’t say anything about it. His colleagues merely exchanged knowing glances with others aware of the situation, amused at Charles’s futile attempts at winning Y/N over. But as time wore on, and Charles kept trying, at least a few of his colleagues started to comment on his persistence, calling him a simp, and joking about his poor flirting. Some suggested he should stop his pursuit of Y/N, as it seemed she wasn’t interested, but Charles was relentless: he would not quit until he knew for sure Y/N Sainz didn’t and would never like him.

And so, when Charles spotted Y/N walking through the paddock with Lando, one of the people in the paddock she got along with better, talking animatedly and laughing loudly with each other, he approached her once more; he would seize any opportunity to blatantly flirt with Y/N. He quickly caught up with the two, putting his hand on the small of her back as he matched his speed with theirs. “You’re absolutely radiant today, chérie” He greeted her with a cheeky grin.

Y/N looked to her side, greeting the new presence “Hey, Charles!” As oblivious as always, she sweetly smiled up at him and replied, “Thanks! You’re such a sweet friend!”

Lando was a mere bystander in the situation as he observed the interaction, surprised and amused at the ease with which Y/N once again waved off the man who was so clearly crushing on her. He held his opinions back until Charles left, “Wow, you certainly have no trouble friend-zoning him, don’t you?” He commented.

Y/N cocked her head as she looked at him, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Lando laughed humourlessly, “Dear God, you really have no idea?” He paused, “Y/N, Charles has been flirting non-stop with you for ages. How on earth have you not noticed?”

She stopped walking and looked at him in confusion, “He’s not flirting with me, Lando, he’s just being nice. He’s a good friend.”

“I’m actually quite sure he’s flirting with you, Y/N. So is everyone else. You could literally ask any of the drivers, and they would confirm it. The Ferrari employees too, I reckon. He likes you, Y/N.” He said unimpressed.

“Charles likes me?” She asked softly, suddenly turning shy, a blush creeping onto her face.

Lando sighed, realising his friend was even more oblivious than he initially thought. “Yeah, he does. I’m honestly surprised you’ve never noticed.” He gently squeezed her shoulder before they parted ways.

— — —

For the rest of the day, Y/N thought about Lando’s words. She thought about all her interactions with Charles over the last few months and realised that he did compliment her quite often.

Once, on a sunny afternoon, Y/N was chatting with some of the Ferrari team members near the garage when Charles spotted her. He, as always, decided to walk over to talk with her, his usual charming smile on his face and mischief in his eyes.

"Y/N, only you can make a sunny day even brighter," he said with a big, playful smile and admiration in his voice.

Y/N blinked at him, surprised by his sudden appearance and his bold statement. "Oh, thank you, Charles! That's really sweet of you to say."

Unfazed by her obliviousness, Charles pressed on, determined to make his feelings known after such a long time. "No, really," he insisted, his gaze unwavering. "I mean it. You bring a brightness to the paddock that I can't quite explain."

Y/N laughed softly, “Well, um, thank you. That’s very kind. What can I say? I try my best.” She replied with a smile.

Another time, Y/N was in the team hospitality when she accidentally spilt her drink, leaving an obvious stain on her white shirt. Charles, who was, unsurprisingly, standing nearby (as always), had noticed immediately and courteously offered one of his extra Ferrari shirts. When he saw the girl he had liked for months in his clothes, wearing his driver’s number, he naturally couldn’t resist the urge to flirt with Y/N.

"Have I ever told you how stunning you look in red?" he remarked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and fondness at the sight of her.

Y/N laughed and replied, "No, I don't think you have," smiling at him in a friendly manner.

"Well, consider it said," he said, his tone playful. "You wear it better than anyone else, that's for sure."

Y/N laughed softly, appreciating her friend’s words, "I doubt that’s true, but thanks, Charles."

Thinking back to these moments, Y/N realised maybe Charles had indeed been flirting with her. However, he might just be like that with all of his friends, complimenting everyone he cares about. Nevertheless, now that Lando had brought this to her attention, she would surely pay extra attention to what Charles would say to her tomorrow.

— — —

The next day, Charles had caught her in a conversation again. They were talking about the race and the current situation with Ferrari. He mentioned the pressure from the team and all the fans that want him to do well, and that the car and the strategies aren’t working the way he wants them to. Of course, Y/N tried to reassure him; to relieve the pressure and stress Charles was feeling. He absolutely adored the way she was trying to comfort him and was not afraid to let her know, “I have to admit, Y/N, nobody can cheer me up like you can. You calm my nerves like no one else,” he said, looking at her lovingly while he expressed his feelings.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. This was the first time she noticed he was flirting with her whilst he was actually doing it, and she had no idea how to react. When she felt her face heat up, she could only assume she was blushing from the nerves. She diverted her gaze, trying to come up with a good reply to Charles’s advances. How did she usually respond when Charles complimented her? She couldn’t remember now.

Charles was confused at Y/N’s lack of response to his remark. Normally, she’d immediately smile at him and thank him for whatever compliment he’d come up with, but now, she was looking away, and - was he seeing that right? Was she blushing? He had flirted with her countless times, but she had never blushed at any of his comments. Had she finally noticed his advances? Charles watched her with an amused smile while she searched for the right words.

Eventually, she shyly smiled at him, meeting his eyes in a fleeting glance before responding, “I’m glad to be of help.”

Charles, Charles, proud that he was the one to cause her flustered appearance, decided to push a little further, curious to see what would happen, “You really have no idea how much you mean to me, Y/N. Your support helps me so much.” Charles smiled gently and put his hand on her arm. When there’s no immediate response, he continues, “Anyway, I have to get ready for the race. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Y/N merely nodded and watched him walk away.

Her brother had been watching the interaction from a distance, observing the way his sister responded to Charles’s obvious flirting and, too, noticing the difference. “You finally figured it out, huh?” He said with a teasing smile. Y/N rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, but Carlos just continued, “You should let him know you like him too.” Y/N didn’t respond. “You do like him don’t you?” He asks, confused at her unresponsiveness. “Leave me alone, Carlos!” She replied, pushing her brother away. He laughed at her; that reaction was enough for him to know the answer to his question. He ruffled her hair and walked away, also needing to get ready for the race.

After her short talk with Charles, Y/N was sure that he liked her, but how to proceed? She could barely focus on the cars going around the track while all types of ideas were racing around in her head. What on earth was she supposed to do now? Should she wait until the next time Charles would flirt with her, or should she make the move instead? Considering Carlos’s advice, she decided she should take matters into her own hands.

She walked up to Charles as soon as she saw him entering the garage after the race. She had always thought Charles was incredibly attractive – like most women, but he looked especially handsome after he had raced.

“Hey, good job on the race!” She greeted Charles, pulling him into a hug. She looked at him for a second or two, contemplating whether she should actually do this. She smiled up at him shyly, “You know, I love the way your hair looks after a race.” She said blushing, running one of her hands through his messy hair. Charles is surprised at her comment, but he’s shocked at her hand in his hair. This is the first time she has complimented him – or at least, initiated it. Let alone, her touching him in such an intimate way. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape as he stared at her in disbelief. It was now Charles’s turn to be flustered as Y/N finally reciprocated his attempts at flirting.

In his silence, Y/N decided to continue, “It’s hot.” She said, avoiding eye contact. Charles was unsure how to respond. He had never experienced a situation like this before; he always knew exactly what to say, but she had caught him off guard. After Y/N had friend-zoned him countless times, he was definitely not expecting this; he was not sure what to do.

The absence of a reply only made Y/N more nervous. She distanced herself from him, letting her hand fall from his hair, realising she probably shouldn’t have touched him without permission. Charles was quick to notice her retreat and held her face to stop her from leaving. He raised her chin to make their eyes meet and asked her softly, “Let me take you to dinner?” while he stared at her with adoration.

Y/N smiled at him fondly and nodded her head, “I’d like that, Charles. I’d really like that.”

“Good,” He said firmly, his smile growing wider, matching hers. “I have to leave now for the debrief, but I’ll text you, okay?”

Y/N nodded her head in response, letting out a hum. Charles pulled her face closer with the hand on her cheek, and fleetingly kissed her forehead before leaving, looking over his shoulder to catch her gaze one last time.

Y/N stood still in shock for a while, processing what just happened. She had agreed to go on a date with Charles. She was staring outside, letting the situation sink in as she watched people pass by in the busy paddock. Suddenly, she spotted Lando waving wildly at her, trying to get her attention. When he realised that she had seen him, he smiled mischievously and gave her a thumbs-up, assuming the kiss he saw Charles give her was a good sign. Y/N rolled her eyes at him, annoyed by his nosiness, but Lando just laughed, amused at her bother and glad his meddling had helped.

922 notes · View notes

umemiyan · 4 months

Text

𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙈 / 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙐𝙈. — 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝖨𝖨

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘖𝘜𝘚 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ･ 𝘕𝘌𝘟𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 ･ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ･ 𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ sfw, but minors dni (nsfw future chapters likely) / an interpretation of "came back wrong" gojo (he's not necessarily wrong, just different) / yandere!gojo vibes / disabled-coded gojo with reader acting as caretaker; it's essentially a learning curve for everybody involved / some dubcon physical affection moments, but nothing serious / 3.4k words

well... we have made it to a second chapter!! this overall idea just really resonated with me, and after learning how it affected others as well, i just knew i had to do my best to keep it going. this is the first ever "part 2" of anything i've ever written, so i beg for just a shred of mercy! i'm trying my best, and thank you to everyone who has said kind things about this story so far. i hope you enjoy <3

The winter air is brisk and a little volatile, but you feel blessed to have it whirl past your skin—even more blessed to watch Satoru’s flesh prickle at the sensation. Alive.

You had done your best to rummage through the expanse of his closet to find a suitable coat for him to wear—one that would cut the chill of an afternoon breeze when it inevitably brushed across his body. January could be unforgiving at times—the harshest of winter moths. You wondered how cold death must’ve felt.

“Satoru, where are your shoes?” You inquired, voice muffled in his closet as you sifted through garments, multitasking in an attempt to compose an outfit for him.

He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on your movements as they often were, mind turning at your question for a moment. He stood then, paced towards the shoe rack that stood outside the closet door, and reached gently for one of your busied hands. Satoru points your fingers towards the collection of shoes.

You paused your movements, eyes curious as they followed his guidance before landing upon their intended target. “Oh, that’s right,” you said with a small shake of your head, bearing a self-defeating smile and feeling rather silly for your oversight.

It was a challenge to become acquainted with someone else’s home amidst everything else, responsibilities stacking upon responsibilities. However, Satoru continued to prove that he could recall more than you initially thought, that he could act as your guiding light when called upon. A little ironic, you think. A little pathetic, too? No, you are human, after all. Just as he is.

He smiled in return. You swore there was even a hint of a familiar light-hearted, teasing glimmer in his eye, unless you were seeing things.

(You weren’t.)

For once, you are grateful for the rather serene nature of the school’s grounds as you stroll across them side-by-side with him, much like in days from a not-so-distant past. The remaining fallen leaves from the trees dressing the mountains rustle with the wind, colored by the touch of death but still beautiful all the same, just like something else you know.

“We can always go back if it gets too cold,” you say as a reminder to Satoru of his agency, his home on campus easy to circle back to should you take the notion. You fear he might choose to freeze himself into another early grave if that’s what you wished, and you can’t fathom the idea of making him suffer simply because he thinks it pleases you to do so. Your happiness is somehow his, and although this is a new quality you have yet to decipher, there’s still something about it that strikes you as indulgent and rather characteristic of a gluttonous Satoru Gojo.

He doesn’t respond, gaze flitting across his surroundings as he walks, nerve endings and six eyes absorbing a litany of information. A silent Satoru used to be a rare occurrence but is now the default, the air somehow punctured by the lack of his voice riding along it. However, his presence is still stark, his being brimming with energy as if to make up for the words he can no longer speak.

Unbeknownst to you, he communicates with you not only with his physical body, but with his feelings, too—waves of energy that he projects outward on instinct, hoping you’ll have the means to grasp what he is trying to say even if he isn’t always sure what it is. It has been rather unsynchronized and sloppy thus far, but with each day that passes, your ability to hear him grows.

You can hear him now even with the only sounds being the breeze rushing in your ears and leaves crunching beneath the soles of shoes. There is something somber about him, more than usual, mixed with that same sense of being lost in a world that feels brand new.

All of it is familiar to Satoru on a physical level—the paths, the buildings, the foliage—but what prickles his mind is attempting to piece together the myriad of strange feelings that arise as he is faced with more and more reminders of a past that he can’t fully recall.

It’s as though the memories are trying to surface but can’t quite fuse into something tangible, something concrete, like when you feel a word forming just at the tip of your tongue but it never arrives. He can sense them deeply in his body, almost experience a brief image flashing like lightning through his mind before it disappears. Satoru’s frustration is palpable, and he reaches for your hand.

Icy-cold fingers nipped by winter intertwine with yours, tethering him in place as his fractured mind aches with the burden of obscurity. His physical affection is new to you, but you allow it—welcome it, even. As much as the earnest displays contrast with his previous tiptoeing around connection, it is yet another thing you can’t bear to turn down, not after everything that’s happened.

You hope it isn’t simply guilt of all things compelling you to accommodate him, but wouldn’t it be equally bad to do it for selfish reasons? Could one misconstrue it as taking advantage, of feeding off his need to satisfy some part of you that had always wanted him?

The various implications make your head swim with conflict, so you force yourself to shut them down for the time being. Satoru is only holding your hand, nothing more, at least for the moment. There had of course been instances of his lips pecking against your own, wandering down to your neck, his hand settling on your waist as if to draw you closer… but you’d always managed to divert his attention in one way or another, severing the connection before either of you could become too engrossed in it. He never seemed overly perturbed to shift direction, but you couldn’t help but wonder just how long his patience might last, and if you’d be able to figure out what you even were to him before then.

Needless to say, nothing could have ever prepared you for something like this. What drives you forward more than anything is your contentment with the fact that he’s here walking the earth with you, as whole as he can be after having been stolen from the arms of death. And despite the abundance of challenges, part of you can’t help but feel special for being chosen to face them.

When your feet bring you near the school’s entrance, gates opening way for a path down the mountain, Satoru stops dead in his tracks, alert like an animal that’s suddenly caught a scent. His grip on your hand tightens, heart plummeting into his stomach as something takes hold of him, something he likely couldn’t put into words even if he had the ability to speak.

You turn to check over him with your gaze, concern etched upon your features at the immediate change of pace. “Satoru…?” you call softly, yearning for a chance to be able to peek into his mind. All you can do is feel the chill of his demeanor.

His name drifting upon your voice earns a split second of his attention, but he is, for once, captivated by something else.

Pierced gut. Blocked throat. Summer sun and the sounds of buzzing.

It’s a memory that lives in his body but not his conscious mind, an instinct telling him to heed the surroundings for a threat that once was. He relives it with a rapid heartbeat, knows it bears importance, but he can only recall shreds of information that don’t merge together to form a full picture. He simmers in mounting frustration.

Black hair. Sharp eyes. Boiling blood—the brink of death.

Satoru turns on a dime and faces a figure in the distance, on guard and brimming with a sort of defensiveness you’d never quite seen before, at least not coming from him. Muscles rigid, he squeezes your upper arm as if to warn you, to keep you close, his extraordinary senses absorbing information quicker than you can even pivot to see what it is he’s looking at.

From around the corner of a building emerges Megumi, clad in warm clothes and a mellow disposition. His distinctly unruly hair makes it easy to identify him even from where he appears down the path, hands in his pockets as he strolls towards you upon recognition.

Satoru’s mind runs through calculations as the young student approaches, attempting to distinguish and fill gaps and create something he can take hold of as a semblance of fact.

Black hair. Sharp eyes. Something… different?

Megumi’s cursed energy burns in a recognizable way, striking Satoru as peculiar as he instinctively studies it with the six eyes. But it makes sense to him—it’s familiar, even if he struggles to trust it in full. This is someone he hasn’t met since his awakening, but someone his eyes have certainly seen before.

You can sense the fear radiating off Satoru’s being and into yours, the presence of someone other than you agitating his already troubled state. You must act.

“Look, it’s Megumi,” you say softly with an encouraging smile, encasing his hand with your palm and hoping that your pleasant reaction takes the edge off. Satoru is reluctant to avert his gaze, but does so anyway, blue darting in your direction to witness the happiness written in your features. You appear to trust this person, and he trusts you, so despite the pounding in his chest, the sorcerer relaxes his grip.

You guide Satoru to take a few steps forward with you to meet Megumi as he draws nearer, a tired but welcoming smile turning your lips upward to greet him. It’s nice to see the boy alive and well in the aftermath of his own debacle—or at least as well as someone could possibly be. You wish there had been something more you could’ve done to help him recover, but it was known to many that you happened to have your hands full at the moment. Hopefully he will understand.

“Hey,” Megumi utters quietly, eyes scanning over your face and then his teacher’s, trying to briefly assess your individual states.

“Hi, Megumi,” you respond, appraising him yourself. He seems to be all in one piece, which you had been informed of, but had yet to see yourself. It’s nice to have visual confirmation. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he replies quickly, flatly, minimizing himself as usual. His voice is more sincere when inquiring about your wellbeing. “And you?”

You grin, finding a way to sum up your experience without overwhelming him. “Hanging in there,” you muse with a breathy chuckle. There’s no use in worrying him with all the details of Gojo’s current condition and how it has subsequently flipped your world upside down, but Megumi is shrewd, and you’re sure he can come to some sort of conclusion, especially when briefed by the others who have eyes on the situation.

Megumi awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck, skirting around vulnerability and concern as his next question arises. “Gojo-sensei… how are you doing?”

Satoru has been silent all the while, of course, but sorting through every detail while you and his former student exchange pleasantries. Neurons fire, rewiring frazzled connections, giving him a glimpse at how this boy is not the same as the one he bears a resemblance to.

Megumi isn’t sure what sort of response to expect; in fact, he feels silly for expecting one at all, posing a question that he’s fairly certain can’t be answered directly. But how else was he meant to conduct himself in such an interaction, to show that he cares? To speak as if Gojo weren’t even there would feel like even more of an insult.

You’re caught in the middle, watching Satoru’s face and seeing the gears turning in his head. “I think we’re all just… learning how to adjust to things, y’know?” you reply with a rather vacant smile, turning back to Megumi who understands your subtext with ease. Rather than speak for Satoru, you’ve made a blanket statement to provide just the slightest bit of feedback, and Megumi is well aware.

The student nods his head with a short hum of acknowledgment, doing his best to see his mentor in this new light—one he never thought would be possible, not when it came to someone who had always claimed to be so strong. But at least there is a light at all.

The wind tosses leaves around between the three of you, filling the silence with its quiet whispers. You wish there was more to be said. You wish you had a solid grasp of how well Satoru really was doing.

“I think Ieiri said she wanted to see you soon,” Megumi states, acting as a courier, trying to fill the space with words.

You nod. “Yeah, we’ve been in touch. We’re actually meant to meet up with her tomorrow.”

Shoko, while expectedly rather removed, had been one of your primary contacts and supports thus far, apart from Ijichi who shouldered the burden of several essential tasks you hadn’t been able to complete on your own. You felt guilty for sending him out for groceries and back to your apartment for extra sets of clothes, but how else would you manage to make it by? Leaving Satoru alone or in the care of someone else wasn’t currently an option, and taking him outside the school grounds didn’t sound like an optimal idea either at the present moment. So you had to make do in the meantime, and you were truly grateful for the help, but you couldn’t help but hope that things would eventually fall into place. Maybe Shoko would have answers.

“That’s good,” Megumi replies with a sparkle of hope in his tone, then reluctantly adds, “and, uh… just let me know if I can do anything to help, okay?”

You respond to his gesture with a warm smile. “Thank you, Megumi. That’s very kind.” You don’t have immediate plans for taking the young man up on his offer, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. He deserves to rest and seek peace, not fight any more battles for the sake of others.

A twinge of pink colors the apples of Megumi’s cheeks, and he recedes into the scarf wrapped around his neck, unused to accepting grace from others without feeling inclined to quarrel about it. He is at a loss for words, somewhat eager to make his escape before the vulnerability has the chance to further consume his dignity. You take that as something of a cue.

“Well, we—” you start, preparing to make a closing statement and depart, before being interrupted by a sudden movement to your left—Satoru, breaking free from his fixed state to perform a familiar gesture.

As if finally making a connection, he grins and mimics the Ten Shadows hand configuration for summoning the Divine Dogs, clapping his palms together and examining Megumi’s reaction with ardor. The student is startled out of his mild embarrassment, somewhat baffled by the sudden communication attempt and the implication that his mentor perhaps actually remembers who he is. It’s a pleasant surprise to you both, and a moment or two is required for it to sink in.

Your face lights up with glee, heart warmed by the simple action in a way that’s difficult to express. Megumi appears to be in a similar boat—taken aback, but ultimately stricken with joy.

A modest smile creeps upon Megumi’s lips as he softly mirrors the motion with his own hands, acknowledging Gojo’s revelation. “Yeah…” he says, voice faint but pleased. “Divine Dogs.”

Every brief glimpse into Satoru’s thoughts feels like a blessing, and this is certainly no exception. It’s refreshing to watch him have a moment of sincere connection with someone other than yourself, and it leaves you glowing with hope for the future as you bid Megumi farewell and make your way back home.

“Head back, Satoru.”

Water splashes into the bathtub as Satoru cranes his neck to peer up at the ceiling as per your request, a cup full of liquid streaming over his hair and carrying shampoo suds along with it.

After returning from your walk, you’d prepared something for dinner and eventually urged Satoru into the tub for a bath before bed—yet another activity that seemed to get a little easier every time you did it.

Figuring out how to get him to bathe had initially been quite the challenge, but you had managed to devise a method that had gotten the job done quite well thus far. He might’ve looked rather awkward sitting cramped in the shallow bath with a pair of swimming trunks on while you rinsed him with an old plastic cup you’d excavated from a cabinet, but it was the most effective way to get him clean and preserve both your dignities while doing it. Though you were the only one who seemed to be concerned with such things.

Satoru blinks when a few soapy droplets backslide into one of his eyes, causing him to squint, scrunch, and rub it with his fingers until the uncomfortable sensation eases. He looks at you, almost as if to say, “Hey! That burns!”

You chuckle and shake your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “That’s why you’re supposed to close your eyes, goober.”

He wants to submerge in a pout, but your playfulness rids him of the inclination. Satoru instead shifts his focus to the beauty of your frame perched upon the edge of the tub, a beacon of divinity as you cleanse him with care and devotion. He takes the notion to express an inkling of gratitude by leaning forward and placing a kiss against your lips, lukewarm water rippling around him as it gradually cools.

You’re somewhat stiff and unresponsive, the sudden gesture catching you by surprise as it usually does, but you don’t chastise him for it; in fact, it takes a certain level of concentration for you to avoid letting your thoughts linger on his current state: hair slicked back; flesh exposed and glistening with droplets of water; lips warm, wet, and eager for reciprocation…

Your mouth receives his but does not encourage him for more than a split second, pulling back gently from his advance until you can see Satoru shiver as the water chills his body. His eyes are glued to your face, waiting for a reaction as you prepare to make one more pass over his hair with the cup to see that he is fully rinsed, this time using your hand to shield his eyes from any backflow (and from your expression, which is surely indicative of your now rapid heartbeat).

The action is enough to distract him for the moment, but Satoru is still on edge, teeming with infatuation and need. He is unsatisfied with your response—or lack thereof—and is frustrated with his inability to express it, but your hands carefully wiping drops of water from his face act as a temporary soothing agent.

“Alright, let’s get dried off and ready for bed,” you say, standing to fetch his towel from the rack and bring it back to him before reaching down to trigger the tub to drain. “We’re going to talk to Shoko tomorrow.”

Satoru is less concerned with the meaning of your words than he is with how lovely you sound while saying them. He is once again caught in your spell, entranced by the need to be closer but settling for the scraps that you give him—for now.

You aren’t convinced of his comprehension of what you say, but nevertheless, you use the sweetened tone to deflect from the overwhelm of watching him stand and observe your every move as you help to dry his chiseled body. Satoru is tall and looming, scarred in the midriff, but compliant with your ministrations; however, his easygoing nature doesn’t keep your hands from wanting to shake against the towel that repeatedly caresses his physical beauty. You wish you could torch every thought in your mind, switch your brain off to preserve the strength and sanity that remains.

You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to remain steadfast and maintain this cycle of “temporaries” until something eventually changes. And what if it never does?

You suppose the only thing you can do for now is try your best and wait and see what the future holds. It certainly can’t be any worse than what you’ve already been through, especially now that Satoru is by your side once more. That is something you’ve realized you wouldn’t trade for anything.

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #dividers by @saradika #my writing.#re: satoru gojo

289 notes · View notes

witchybitchycrybaby · 2 months

Text

And they were neighbors...

Benjicot Blackwood x modern!fem!Bracken!reader

Warnings: none, it's just pure fluff, modern au

Words: 1,3k

✨✨✨

Benjicot Blackwood groaned as his alarm buzzed on the nightstand, effectively interrupting his sleep. He slapped it off and lay back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His thoughts, as usual, drifted to his best friend, his next-door neighbor, his... whatever you were to him. The Bracken girl, on top of that.

His parents would probably go bananas if they knew he had feelings for you.

Sure, your families couldn't stand each other, everybody in your small neighborhood knew that, but for Benji that war no longer mattered when it came to you. He thought about the way you looked at him, the way you always had an answer whenever he said something unhinged, and that smile… oh, that smile. He was whipped, completely and utterly.

How you managed to get so deep under his skin was beyond his understanding.

He'd had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. He never said a word about it before, though. He liked being your friend and he was afraid of ruining your relationship. The thought of you not reciprocating his feelings was always in the back of his head, so he simply kept quiet.

Today, however... Oh, screw it, it was high time to take the risk.

Benji rolled over and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. With his hair tousled on the pillow, eyes still half-closed, and a lazy smirk on his lips, he snapped a picture. He looked exactly how he wanted to feel: confident, yet charming. Perfect. He added a caption: "So, what’s it like living next to the most handsome guy ever?"

With a deep breath, he hit send. He quickly tossed the phone away as if it burned him. You two were used to each others smartass remarks, but flirting was an entirely different level. Seconds felt like hours, and he started to question his impulsiveness. What if you didn't get the hint? What if you thought hr was being weird? What if you didn't respond, choosing to ignore him? His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind creating the worst-case scenarios wasn't helping at all.

Finally, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, expecting the worst. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the message.

"No idea. I'm pretty sure there's no one in our neighborhood that matches the description."

Benji's heart raced as he read your reply. It was good, really good even. You didn't make fun of him, you just took the chellange. He could work with that. His finger hovered above the screen, trying to come up with a response, when another message from you popped up.

This time, it was a picture. You were also still in bed, your hair a mess, eyes half-closed, looking even sleepier than him. You were clutching a pillow with a playful smile on your lips. His breath hitched in his throat. You were stunning.

"I figured I'd return the favor," you texted then. He grinned as his heart did a little flip.

"Cute," he replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could. "But I still look better."

"In your dreams, Blackwood."

"You are in my dreams, Bracken."

There was a pause before you texted back: "Cheesy much?"

"For you? Always."

He stopped for a second. Biting his lip, he thought of doing something riskier. The only thing he was worried about was your reaction.

"Speaking of dreams," he started again after a minute. "I dreamt I stole your pillow. I guess mine's just not as comfy."

There it was. He sent it. And you read it.

There was a brief pause before you answered, but when you did, relief poured over him

"Of course you'd want my pillow, my bed is generally way better, you know. It's not my fault you can't get some decent pillows."

"Nah, it's just the pillow. I've got the coziest setup, Bracken. You'd fall asleep in seconds."

"You're delusional," you texted, and he could imagine you laughing in your room. "I'd show you real cozy, but my bed is off-limits to annoying neighbors."

"I think you meant 'annoyingly charming'", he typed, his smile growing wider. "Admit it, Bracken, you'd let me join you if I asked nicely."

Your reply came quickly, "If you weren't so annoying, maybe, I'd have to think about."

This was it, the opening he was waiting for. Benji took a deep breath and went for it. "Alright, I promise to be on my best behavior. Now, would you be so kind, my lady, and open your window?"

That threw you off a bit. "Why?" You texted, your eyebrows furrowed.

Only seconds after you sent your message, you heard a soft rustling outside. Moving to the window, you pulled back the curtain to see Benji, climbing up to your window with a mischievous grin. Your eyes widened in shock at the sight.

"What the hell, Benji?" you whisper-shouted, quickly opening the window.

"Good morning to you too, y/n," he whispered back, there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the smile creeping onto your face. "Are you crazy? If my parents find out you're here, they'll kill you. And then my dad will resurrect you just to kill you again."

Benji chuckled softly. "They'd have to catch me first. Now, are you going to help me in, or are you going to let me fall and have my ghost haunt you for the rest of your life?"

"You're insane", you said but grabbed his arm and helped him climb into your room. He landed softly on your carpet, glancing around your room. "Cozy," he said, sitting on your bed and bouncing slightly on the mattress.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?"

He stretched out on your bed, hands behind his head. "Testing the coziness, of course. You did say your bed was better, remember?"

You shook your head, sitting next to him. "You know, you could've just walk through the front door? Like a normal human being, Benji. Climbing through my window is a bit... dramatic."

Benji turned to look at you. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, I needed to make sure I had your full attention."

You sighed, but there was no hiding the smile that appeared at your lips. "You've got it. Now what?"

He sat up, closer to you now, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by something more serious. "I like you, Bracken. A lot. More than a friend should like a friend. And I get it, our families, the whole feud thing... but I don't care about any of that when it comes to you. I just... I needed to tell you."

You stared at him, your eyes wide in shock and surprise. You though your mind glitched, trying to process his words. He looked so vulnerable now that he had exposed himself and his feelings. "Benji, I..."

But before you could say something more, he cut you off with a nervous laugh. "I know, it's crazy. I just... I needed to tell you."

Your hand reached out and grabbed his. You gave it a soft squeeze and intertwined your fingers. "No, it's not crazy. Actually... To be completely honest, I feel the same way too."

"You-you do?" He stuttered.

"Yeah. I guess I was just scared to say anything because of our families and all that. But... I’m glad you did."

A slow smile spread across his face, lightening it up. "Me too."

He leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours. "So, does this mean I get to stay? Not just for the comfy bed, I mean."

You laughed, the sound filling the room. Oh, he could listen to it for eternity. "Yes, Benji. You get to stay."

He grinned, closing the distance between you. "Good," he whispered, before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It was brief but for Benji it was enough.

For now.

#english is not my first language #house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood x y/n #hotd fluff

164 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months

Note

Digital Circus with a Mime Reader, who CAN speak but prefers to use sign language and gestures: they find find Kaufmo in the middle of abstracting and try to calm him down (against their better judgement). It doesn't go well, ending with them locking and closing Kaufmo's door, and running to find Caine... Only to hear the theme song suddenly stop and Jax say something about a "new character" as they approach...

Ough finally some Kaufmo angst-

........

Approaching Kaufmo's door, you stopped in front of it and politely knocked, wanting to check up on him before Caine could summon everybody to perform the Digital Circus' "theme song" musical number.

As of late, your fellow clown hasn't been feeling up to snuff, since apparently nobody was laughing at his jokes anymore...

Although said jokes have all mentioned something about an exit--a way out of the digital realm you've grown quite comfortable living in. But even when he is dead serious, the others are convinced he's only kidding around, pretending to laugh and sometimes asking him if he could joke about something else.

Least to say...it grew frustrating for him.

The only reason he hadn't totally lost it yet was because of you, a mime who has lived in the circus for the past five months and befriended him quickly. Together you've put on many acts: with his wacky props and your invisible techniques, your shows were amusing to all.

That being said, you didn't want your longtime partner to think about any exits too much, as you've lost several friends in the past when they started talking about the same thing.

It happened to Queener, Kinger's beloved wife, and the poor chess piece has been on the brink of abstraction ever since (honestly, it's a miracle he didn't immediately follow her).

Fortunately, he remained stable enough to be around everyone.

As for Kaufmo?

He didn't look so good last night at dinner, and you haven't seen him all morning. Normally he'd be up and about, juggling random things as he walked or approaching you to brainstorm new acts to perform.

Him locking himself away in his room was not normal.

Especially when he knew this musical number was super important to Caine.

After waiting a minute or two, you perked up as he finally answered the door.

At first you smiled in greeting, although that was quick to fade when he only kept it open just a crack--enough for you to barely see his face...

Which bore a terrified expression underneath his runny makeup, making his frown look worse than it actually is. His hat was nowhere to be found, either.

''Are you okay, Kaufmo?" You signed, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

That was your usual way of talking, despite knowing you could very well speak freely. You had no clue if you were proficient in sign language before entering this circus, but regardless it always came in handy, and everybody did their best to communicate with you that way (or at least those with fingers, unlike Zooble or Gangle).

Since your performances usually involved silence and expressive gestures, you didn't see a need to talk often--and that was usually fine with Kaufmo, who'd always chatter with you in sign language right back.

But when he attempted to respond, you swore you both saw his own hands glitching, before he quickly retracted them, clearly frightened.

You, on the other hand, wanted to believe it was just a "digital hallucination".

That's all it was...right?

"I-I'm sorry, [y/n]..haven't been..feeling like myself-f-f lately.." Even his own voice was betraying him, as it sounded distorted, lagging as though he was a slow computer program. "But you believe me, don't you?"

"Believe what?"

"The...the exit, of course! The thing I've been talking about this whole time!! It's real! There IS a way out!! I-I can show you!!"

You blinked, before shaking your head. "Kaufmo, let me in."

"Oh no, I think that's a bad id--wait! Wait!!" Despite his pleas for you to stop, you forced your way into his room, shutting the door behind you so nobody else could intrude or eavesdrop.

The last thing you needed was Caine listening in.

Yet after taking a look around at the state of his quarters--with everything being a complete mess and the word "EXIT" scrawled onto every square inch of the ceiling and walls--you were nothing short of terrified for his mental well-being.

'My god....what has he done..?' You thought to yourself, mortified.

"No, no, no, no!!"

Looking back at Kaufmo, you saw him back up against the wall, holding his face as black glitchy polygons started appearing on his body. He gasped in horror, looking at his hands...and then up at you.

"What's..h-happening to me-e-e?"

Your heart sunk, knowing exactly what was going on.

"You're abstracting.." You whispered, your voice small yet shaken.

"I-I didn't...think I'd be next...it hurts so much! Christ-!!!" He began crying, his makeup oozing as he stared at you with empty, soulless black eyes. One of his arms was already taken over by the glitches, morphing into a large one covered in jagged polygons.

"Make it stop..MAKE IT STOP!!!" He screamed, slumping to the floor.

You were frozen in a state of panic, unsure if you should go get Caine or stay here and try to pull him out of his abstraction.

Either way, you had to do something fast...lest you lose him forever or become infected yourself.

"Just focus on me, pal. I'm here. I'm here." Kneeling down, you grasped his non-glitching hand tightly with both of yours, attempting to guide him through a breathing exercise.

"You'll get through this." You mouthed, but he just shook his head, noticing a single glowing eye forming on the surface of the glitchy flesh.

"Wh-Whatever you do...don't tell Caine, I beg you-u.." He pleaded. "He'll lock me away...a-and I'll be all alone in the dark..I don't wanna be alone.."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head, and he gazed at you in confusion. "What do you mean "no"? You'd let him throw me into the cellar with the rest of them...?" He started to grow angrier, feeling betrayed. "I thought we were partners!"

"We are partners, Kaufmo. Always will be." You sighed, wishing there was another way to stop this from happening. "But there's nothing more I can do...he needs to know-"

"Fine...maybe things will be better if I'm not around to tell my stupid jokes anymore."

"Kaufmo-"

"Go....run, [y/n]...run-n-n-nnNNNN------"

Immediately after he said that, you let him go right as his other hand quickly became overtaken by the abstraction, almost taking you with it.

You got up and took a step backwards, watching in mute terror as he rapidly grew in size, turning into a massive amalgamation of glitch black polygons. Even more glowy-trippy eyes were popping up in different places, looking in every direction.

Within seconds, Kaufmo no longer resembled the clown you once knew (or a person, in general)....but was instead replaced by a horrific digital beast with a long neck, standing on four legs.

You gulped as every single eye on his body suddenly shifted to stare directly down at you.

'Uh-oh-'

You hastily created an invisible wall just as he lunged at you with a ferocious roar, slamming right into the illusion like a bird smacking into a glass pane.

'He still falls for the oldest trick in the book..oh Kaufmo..'

Although it pained your heart to abandon him like this, he was too far gone to be saved. He didn't even recognize you anymore.

The only thing you could do now was get Caine before he harmed you or anybody else--even if it means you never saw him again. He could very well threaten the entire stability of this world if he got loose.

You quickly ran out of the room just before he could break through the "wall" and go after you, slamming the door shut and locking it tight.

Moments later, you heard him ram into it, the hinges damn near breaking off (but by the grace of cartoon physics, that didn't happen).

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, making a mad dash out of the dormitory section of the tent in a desperate search for Caine.

Unfortunately, you could already hear Bubble's singing in the distance as the gang's musical number routine was already starting:

"Gangle, and Zooble, and Kinger, too~!"

You ran as fast as your legs could possibly carry you. They were already aware of both of your absences, and they chose to go on with the song anyways.

'Jerks..they couldn't at least wait for me?' You huffed. 'Caine never tells us when we're doing these musical ditties-'

By the time you arrived, however, you heard the music abruptly cut out.

You stopped upon seeing your friends tumbled over each other on the floor, with Gangle's comedy mask being broken and Jax picking himself up in annoyance.

"Caine, is this one of your NPCs or is this a new sucker?"

Blinking, you glanced at the new person he was referring to, surprised to see a girl dressed as a red and blue jester.

"........."

Now you couldn't say anything to Caine.

Not right now, at least.

#clanask #anonymous #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc kaufmo #clown reader #mime reader #angst #platonic

444 notes · View notes

roguehongsami · 11 months

Text

Celluloid Scenes.

—★ pairing/s: professor!yunho x fem!student

—★ genre/s: smut, fluff, au

—★ synopsis: you're having difficulties grasping this chapter. your professor offers you extra classes, in which they end in the most unanticipated manner.

—★ content: teacher-student (late & early 20s, consensual), filming, pet names, oral sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (condomize), rough sex, degradation (barely), belt collar, breath play, creampie, cum eating, face fucking, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism.

—★ word count: 6k

—★ author's note: cliché plot but this is my first piece since i got out of my 4-year writer's block. xoxo.

* DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FICTIONAL. IT IS NOT REPRESENTATIVE OF JEONG YUNHO'S CHARACTER, PERSONALITY OR BEHAVIOUR. THIS IS SOLELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. *

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ lana del rey // cherry

Y/N has never had trouble with music theory. If anything, it was her favourite module. Never raked in a score below a 75%, even if it was a mock assessment that held no weight towards the final pass mark. Chapter 9: Time Signatures. It all went downhill from there. She had collected nothing but 35% and lower on all her mock tests. It was humiliating, to say the least. She was not comprending anything that wasn't in 4/4. This streak of perpetual failures was swallowing her whole, and the shame of it all had found residence in the crevices of her mind.

Professor Jeong Yunho sauntered towards Y/N's desk and laid a paper in front of her, facing down. Facing down. The shame is growing.

He wore a bored expression when he looked down on her, releasing an exhausted sigh, and said, "Ms. L/N, a word after class?"

He continued down the row, handing out everyone's mock tests. She buried her face in her arms on the desk, contemplating her next steps. She's made use of study guides, peer assistance, and even sourced help outside the school, but all she knew was 4/4.

Her friend, Aaliyah, hugged her and said, "You have the best ear in this class, and everybody hits a bump in the road sometimes. But I promise, you will get this before the official assessment."

"Do you know how many hours of prog metal and jazz I listened to, just to get another face-down paper?" She sat upright, lifting Aaliyah's weight off of her body, and whined "My spotify wrapped, Aaliyah."

"Wrapped is in five months. That's enough time to get Lana back at number one." Aaliyah waved her off absentmindedly. "Try blues. It is the mother of modern music, so the answers are in there somewhere."

Class came to an end. The hall started airing out as the students bid adieu. Aaliyah left Y/N behind as she found her way back to their shared apartment. Y/N remained planted in her seat, tucking away yet another inglorious mock test into her tote bag. How the earth could just open up and swallow her. Y/N made her way down to Yunho's desk, while he stood at the door sending off his last students for the day. Once the class emptied, he closed the door and sat himself on his desk, in front of Y/N.

"Your last few mocks have been quite... appalling. I'm not a stranger to failing students but this is certainly not your M.O." he dawned a disappointed look. "You're my star student, talk to me."

She pouted as her head hung low, "I've asked the other students for help and even went to the music store across town. It's just not clicking."

He furrowed his brows, concerned, "Is there something going on in your personal life that's hindering your progress?"

"Nothing I'm aware of, no."

"Be honest, Y/N. It's your last year and I wanna see you graduate in record time." one of his eyebrows arched.

"I'm telling you." her voice was high as she responded. "You think I willingly listened to Dream Theater just to make sense of the work? Emphasis on 'willingly'." She threw her hands up in exaggeration.

He let out a chuckle and mumbled, almost as if he was embarrassed, "I love Dream Theater..."

"You also love post eighties Metallica," she said, mockingly, "but I'll shame you another day seeing that I actually need help." she bat her eyelashes coquettishly.

With a wheeze, he said, "I won't dignify that with a response."

Yunho smirked as he made his way around the desk and sat down is his chair. With his body occupying the space, the chair looked more like a throne beneath him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, unleashing an exasperated sigh. He was trying to make sense of Y/N's little hiccup. As he pondered on all the possible causes of her lack of understanding in the material, silence blanketed them.

During what felt like a voyage to the moon and back, but was actually a minute, Y/N had entertained herself with the Spiderman action figure on Yunho's desk. It was a Tobey Maguire edition. Its limbs could be moved and it had built-in web shooters.

"Okay," he broke the silence, which startled Y/N. She sat the figure back down on his desk, "since you're a practical learner, I can only assume that listening isn't enough for you. So we need to get physical."

"I don't know what that means." she deadpanned.

"Another way to learn time signatures is using drums. Wooyoung is expecting a delivery of new drumkits for his class but they won't be here until the third, which is-"

Y/N cut him off and finished the sentence. "After the official assessment." Panic materialised on her face, as her mind convinced her that her failure was bound to compound.

"Exactly. Now," he leaned forward on his desk, grabbed a note and pen, and scribbled on it as he spoke. "I do have a drumkit back at my place. I can privately tutor you until we complete this chapter." He handed her the note with his address and phone number on it. "We only have two more mocks left, so let's bring your grade up before the official assessment."

Y/N's face beamed as she swiped the note out of his hand, and glanced at it with hope in her eyes. She let out a squeal, which made Yunho jolt out of his seat. He looked at her with much adoration in his eyes, proud that he had just given his student a second chance she assumed was not probable.

Official testing was Monday. Yunho tutored her Fridays through Sundays. On Fridays, Y/N would arrive promptly at his loft at 18:00 and leave at 20:00. On weekends, their sessions begun at 15:00 and concluded at 18:00. Each lesson was very much routine; Yunho would demonstrate a time signature on his drumkit, Y/N replicated it, he would play a song on the speakers, and she would have to identify the time signature.

With each passing lesson, her pattern recognition skills improved. She had went from identifying time signatures after a verse and a chorus, to half a verse, to thirty seconds into a song. Averaging 35% and lower on mocks became a thing of the past, hauling in a 50 and 68 on her last two mocks. Never one to score anything less than a 75, Y/N was growing accustomed to the idea of a 70 for this chapter. She was just appreciative of the assistance Yunho offered, which allowed her to absolve herself of the shame that had befallen her.

The lessons weren't without their own... complications. At least emotional ones, that is. Piddling instances of small talk ranging from casual topics such as movies and music transformed into hour-long personal revelations about dreams and desires. Having peered into each other's hearts and minds, and divulging their truths, they saw each other in a new light.

Behaviours taking up new form, Yunho would always steal glances of Y/N while she was doing classwork. He started wearing much stronger colognes with a sweet touch. Y/N became more mindful of the way she dressed, abandoning her usual sweatpants and tank tops for mini skirts and blouses. These changes did not go unnoticed; they saw but never spoke.

As she trode to the door, about to begin her trek to Yunho's apartment, Aaliyah called to Y/N with her eyes glued to the television. "Make sure you have your keys with you. I probably won't be here when you come back." Aaliyah's eyes landing on Y/N's form, offering a warm smile. "Have fun at your lessons."

She responded softly, with a shy smile dawning her face, "Got my keys. I'll see you at the show." she begun walking out the door but she quickly backtracked, remembering to say, "Also, please learn how to open the window after showering. It's humid when I step in."

She arrived at Yunho's loft a little bit past 15:00. When she arrived, he asked if she could wait for him to take a shower. She sat on his couch, watching the television. Starting to feel a bit unimpressed with what the television had to offer, she occupied herself with his drumkit, practicing everything she had learned in past few weeks. Yunho entered the living room and lessons went on as usual.

"I think you're ready for Monday's test." Yunho sat on the couch, right beside her, resting his arm behind her head.

Y/N turned her body to face him, crossing one leg over the other with her skirt riding up her thigh, revealing a black lace garter embellished with floral designs. His eyes danced between the garter and her eyes, not certain what was more mesmerising. She picked up on this and truthfully, her heart fluttered.

What Y/N never admitted to anybody, not even the big man upstairs, was that she always had the cutest little crush on Yunho. Since first year. These extra lessons only made her innocent infatuation inflate by ten folds. Conversely, Yunho was lured in by the praises that were sung repeatedly by Professor Kim and Choi. He would always find excuses to be in Hongjoong and Jongho's classes, just to hear Y/N either play guitar or sing. What truly trapped him was hearing her rendition of the 'Sweet Child O' Mine' guitar solo. A true beauty who could make a guitar sing as beautifully as she does.

"That 75 was looking very bleak two weeks ago. This chapter had me praying to gods I didn't worship." she grimaced as the words left her mouth.

He inched closer to her face, speaking in a low tone, "I knew you'd turn things around with proper guidance." He begun sliding his hand right up her thigh and tugged on the hem of her thong. "My star student." he whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

He planted wet kisses on her neck, nipping her skin. A sharp gasp escaped her mouth; she impulsively grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and cocked her head back, giving him more access. He trailed multiple kisses across her neck, biting her skin along the way, marking her. She swiftly put herself up on his lap, straddling him between her legs. They shared a passionate kiss that only made their bodies radiate. The growing bulge in his sweats grazed her clothed sex, illiciting a sensual and breathy moan on her part.

They both knew what they were doing would warrant harsh consequences, should they ever be caught. In that moment, they cared only about what their hearts truly yearned for; each other's companionship.

"Fuck, Yuyu." she moaned as she would grind her clothed part against his bulge.

Yunho reached into her thong, separating her folds with his fingers. He was met with moisture. "Jesus, Y/N. You're already wet and we haven't even gotten to the best part."

In a flurry of motions, they were in Yunho's bedroom. He put her down on the bed and walked to the film camera in the corner of the room. He positioned it at the corner of the bed and begun filming. Hovering over her, he lifted her chin to make her face him.

Brushing his thumb on her cheek, he said, "You're gonna be a good girl for me, right?"

She hummed at his words, nodding in agreement. He leaned down to kiss her, unbuttoning her silk blouse as he went down on his knees. His hands snaked around her back, unclasping her bra, and cupping two handfuls of her mounds. His lips circled one of her nipples, licking and biting, forcing moans out of Y/N. He alternated breasts, abandoning one of them and leading his hand back into her thong. She was gushing.

With one hand still cupping her breast and his tongue teasing her nipple, he pulled her skirt off and proceed to remove her thong with his other hand. He exhanged her breast for her lips, longing for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to keep balance. His fingers separated her folds once more, his thumb playing with her clit. She gasped into his mouth, making him smile against her lips, feeling ever so proud of himself. He slid one finger into her hole, thumb still on her clit. He started pumping in and out of her slowly. A second finger. A third. Pace accelerating.

It was nearing. The knot in her stomach reporting, her walls clenching around Yunho's fingers. He could feel it approaching, it was right there but he wanted to make her beg for her release. He broke their kiss and pulled his fingers out of her, a whine escaping on her end. With haste, he took his t-shirt off and positioned his himself between her legs. Trailing kisses inside her thighs, he grabbed the garter with his teeth and slid it off her leg. He laid her down on the bed, one hand playing with her breast and the other fingering her into oblivion. His mouth wrapped around her clit, licking and kissing it. Softly nibbling her clitoris here and there, causing her back to arch. Y/N had a tight grip on Yunho's hair, not knowing what to do with her hands.

"Yuyu, please, I'm so close." she let out a moan that was bordering on a sob.

He purposely ignored her, knowing it would make her fight harder to not cum. Her walls clenched tighter than before around his fingers, the knot in her stomach getting uncomfortably tight. Tears welling in her eyes, breathing laboured, legs shaking uncontrollably. She was coming undone. He was pushing her to her limit. He felt her every reaction but still withheld those words.

Her tears escaping, running down her temples. With each passing second, she was finding it difficult to control her breathing.

"Yuyu, please." she croaked. Her grip on his hair only getting tighter.

Letting go of her breast, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed it, signaling her to leave his hair, which she reluctantly did. He peered from beneath her.

"What's my name?" he spelled out. His fingers were dancing right there by her sweet spot. She was overstimulated, seeing stars. The stimulation was making the nerves in her body cause an immense level of discomfort because her release was being withheld.

"Yuyu..." she cried in between incoherent mumbles.

"Someone doesn't wanna cum." he scoffed, burying his face back between her thighs. His tongue continued to draw circles around her clit, his fingers only getting faster.

"Yunho! It's Yunho!" she cried after a string of nonsensical ramblings.

He removed his mouth from her core, fingering her even faster than before, delivering the final blow. Those magic words. "Cum. Now." he commanded her.

The knot in her stomach snapped. Without a second to spare, her legs shook violently. Short hitched breaths. Tears streaming down her face. The thick, white, creamy nectar leaking out of her sex, seemingly neverending, came in vast quantities. He laid right beside her on the bed, enveloping her in a hug as she rode out her delirious high. Kissing her forehead, singing praises in her ear, talking her through her orgasm. Her body presumably sensitive, Yunho gently positioned her vertically on the bed.

He planted a soft kiss on her lips and stroked her hair, as he hovered over, whispering, "Don't fall asleep just yet, princess. We're not done."

The bulge in his sweats was throbbing, causing him mild discomfort. He was ready to finally relieve himself, and his favourite student was there to make it happen. He left the bedroom, Y/N trying her hardest to not drift off. Yunho returned and he leaned against the doorframe, hands behind his back, taking in the image of every curve and crevice of Y/N's body. Appreciating the goddess that laid nude in his bed, hair covering her face, awaiting an imminent awakening.

"Tell me, Y/N. Do you ever think of me while you... touch yourself?" Yunho enquired. A dark look in his eyes, with a hint of mischief.

Y/N lazily propped herself up against the headboard. Heat arose in her cheeks, feeling embarrassed. "I really don't wanna answer that, Yuyu."

He walked to the bed, revealing a digital camera, a belt and handcuffs in his hands. He put everything down on the bed except the camera, and caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch. She felt safe, as if he was exactly who she had been waiting for her entire life. He grabbed her chin and rubbed his thumb on her bottom lip. She instinctively opened her mouth and sucked on his thumb. Yunho positioned the digital camera over her face and photographed the moment.

"That's okay. Personally, I've been thinking of ways I could touch you once I got the chance. Find new, exciting ways to stimulate you." he pulled his thumb out of her mouth, a string of saliva lingering. "See the way you were crying when you came? That was beautiful." he leaned in to her, brushing her lips with his own. "That's what my star student deserves as a reward, for being so hardworking and obedient."

She nodded in agreement as she closed the gap between them. A very short but heated kiss. Yunho pulled away and began to position her. Her knees pressed into the pillows, with her wrists handcuffed to the headboard, he pressed his hand down her back to make her arch. He looped his belt around her neck and let it hang on her back.

Once he took off his sweats, he positioned himself behind her, spreading her legs a bit wider. His member was long and girthy, a large vein running along the base. His slit leaking profusely with precum. He took the tip of his cock and ran it between her folds, as he was pumping it to get it harder, still slick with her nectar. The tip slid into her entrance. He slowly begun stretching her out, proving difficult as she was tight and he was... oversized. With every inch he fed her, they both started shaking. By the time he bottomed her, they were sweating buckets. Both his hands on her hips, slowly, he started pulling out and thrusting in with a bit more speed and impact, grazing her cervix. As they both grew accustomed to the rhythm, he looped the belt around his hand, gently tugging on it.

Although she did not verbally say, Y/N enjoyed the way Yunho tugged the belt. Breathy moans bouncing on the walls with each pull. Yunho watched how Y/N's ass recoiled everytime he pounded into her; a sight to behold. He loved it. Slowing down the pace, he took camera right beside him and begun taking pictures of his cock inside her. He tugged on the belt so that her head would face the ceiling. Smile for the camera. He put the camera back down and picked up the pace. His arm snaking around her waist, rubbing her clit vigorously.

With Yunho still tugging on the belt, slowly beginning to cut her air circulation, but leaving enough room for her to breathe, he pounded even harder. Skin clapping. Laboured breathing. Grunts and moans. Her cunt squelching. All these sounds melding together within the walls. It was amazing. That knot in her stomach paid her a second visit. There it was again. She feared he would repeat what he did before.

She spoke with a slight rasp in her voice, "I- I- I'm gonna c-cum..."

He rubbed her clit even harder. "Not yet, my little cocksleeve. Just a little longer."

Her nerves were getting overworked, yet again. She started sob-moaning as she did her utmost best to keep herself from unraveling. "Yuyu, I feel like I'm gonna explode. Please!" she cried hysterically.

Yunho tugged on the belt, causing her head to cock backwards. "Just take it like the good girl that you are, okay baby? Don't be a brat." he groaned in her ear.

"Yunho, I'm trying." she cried.

He released the belt and stopped rubbing her clit. Grabbing either sides of her hips, he rammed into her relentlessly. "Come on, princess. Cum on daddy's cock." he groaned. Without changing rhythm, he grabbed the camera again. As he felt her clamp around his cock, she released. A beautiful moan leaving her mouth. A white ring started forming around his cock, and he photographed this glorious creation. Y/N rode out her high on Yunho's cock, with bits of her juices dripping out, as she waited for him to get his.

Yunho's hips moved erratically as his own orgasm crept in. The tension in his stomach vanished as soon as he came inside Y/N. His cock was twitching inside her pussy. He plastered himself on her back while he came, his arms snaked around her waist. Whispering praises and promises in her ear. Planting kisses all over the side of her face. Taking nips of her skin.

After a few fleeting minutes, he then took off her handcuffs. As he pulled his member out of her pussy, a white, thick stream made its way down her thighs. Some of it dripping on the sheets. He quickly cleaned her up, rushed to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, and changed the sheets. She was out cold as soon as her head hit the pillow. He truly drained her.

Yunho stopped the recording and put the camera back where it initially was; in the corner of the room. He snuck into bed, cocooning Y/N in his chest and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She was a true beauty to behold. He was boasting.

Almost two weeks had passed since Y/N and Yunho's sexual congress. Y/N earned herself a 73 on her official test, the lowest she'd ever gotten. She took it with stride as the alternative could've been worse. That Monday of the test was the last time she saw Yunho. As soon as she completed her test, she left her script with her professor and sped out of class, not allowing an opportunity for him to speak to her to present itself.

Y/N got what she wanted for the longest time but she didn't know how to navigate its aftermath. She felt awkward, didn't know how to act. Afraid that Yunho would tell her that it was just a one-time thing. She did not want to hear that. However, Yunho was feeling regretful of that fateful Sunday. Not because of the sex, but because of how Y/N was avoiding him. He was gutted. Losing sleep some nights. Never having seen her in class since Monday's test. Worried of her whereabouts. She wasn't answering his texts nor calls. All he could do was wait until the next time he saw her.

Waldorf Music Academy was hosting their annual mixer, where final-year students were given the opportunity to socialise and make connections with industry executives and artists. WMA was a hotspot for anyone seeking an educated individual who could turn 'generally favourable reviews' into 'universal acclaim'; a magnum opus. Its alma maters ranging from musicians to teachers with their own practices to executives. Industry titans from all over the world could only hope to get an invitation.

She knew this mixer was a once in a lifetime opportunity and couldn't miss it. Her dream of being a songwriter and composer was right there. Y/N spent the whole week preparing herself. Looking presentable was a must. She would not have her moment marred by poor etiquette.

A red, low-back floor-length silk gown with thin straps that criss-crossed in the back, was her choice. Paired with white strapped heels and a white quilted clutch. Her ensemble was embellished with a pearl choker necklace and a 3-piece pearl bracelet with a gold clasp. Breathtaking was not a testament to how magnificent she looked.

Yunho was sporting a black suit with a black tie, a white button-up shirt, a black waistcoat and patent leather oxfords. A silver lapel chain connecting two rubies, hung from the lapel down to the front pocket. His look complete with ruby cufflinks.

The mixer was in full swing. Artists and executives, students and professors were interacting. Some students were lucky enough to exchange contacts with people could open up doors for them. As Y/N spoke with a few songwriters who were behind multiple 2010s pop and hip-hop hits, a longing Yunho was burning holes into the back of her head with his stare from a few feet away. In all honesty, he was enticed by her bare back. He was waiting to go in for the kill.

As Y/N concluded her conversation, she slowly walked away. Yunho took a few strides towards her. He discreetly touched her lower back, which made her gasp. She took a quick glance to her side and faced front just as fast. They walked aimlessly together, side by side.

"Princess, you look otherworldly." he whispered, enough for her to hear but for no one to catch on. "Who's attention are trying to get?"

Maintaining the same tone, she responded, "You look ravishing, Yuyu. But certainly not yours."

"I haven't seen you since your test and you haven't attended any of my classes. You're my star student, talk to me." he recited. That succint statement creating a déjà vu effect.

Her steps faltered momentarily at 'star student' before her step was restored. "I've been feeling under the weather so I thought-"

"Don't lie to me, Y/N." he gently grabbed her wrist and yielded their stroll. He gave her a grave look. "I know you've been avoiding me because Hongjoong told me you were at every guitar lesson." he let go of her wrist to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

She gulped and sighed, defeatedly. "I felt... weird, after we... you know... had sex." she gestured with her hands. "I started avoiding you so you wouldn't get the chance to tell me it was a one-time thing. It sucks because I..." she released a shaky breath. "think I have feelings for you."

"That's on me for not prompting the conversation sooner. But do you realise how worried I was? How bad I felt when you didn't answer my texts or calls?" he shook his head. "Y/N, you can't just disappear on me whenever you don't understand your own feelings."

"Approaching you with matters unrelated to school is difficult because I don't know where we stand."

From the inside of his jacket, he produced a gold ring with an obsidian stone. "I was planning on giving you this after class, once you got your test results. But you've been M.I.A. So I brought it with me, hoping I would see you, so we could talk about, I don't know... a relationship?" he said, suggestively. The look in his eyes was softer. "I'm a grown man. No games, I want something serious."

She took the ring in her hand, admiring it with wide eyes, "There's no harm in talking, right?" she slid the ring on her right index and looked up at Yunho. "I don't wanna get you in trouble, Yunho."

"Don't worry, princess. We'll only meet in my loft since it's in the inner city, away from campus. After your graduation, we'll be free." he smiled reassuringly.

"Thank you for being so understanding." she returned the smile.

"I booked a room in the hotel. Ten-oh-three. See you after the mixer?"

She nodded quickly. "Midnight."

The hall was slowly emptying as guests departed. It was quite easy for Y/N to slip out without anyone noticing. Yunho had already disappeared by 23:00. As she rode silently in the elevator, she was hoping nobody from school would see her. The idea of getting caught was brewing anxiety inside her. The doors opened and she was met with a giant "floor 10" silver lettering. She walked down the hallway and stopped before 1003.

After a few knocks, Yunho opened the door and pulled her in while snaking his arm around her waist. Locking the door, he bridal carried her and plastered soft pecks all over her face. Y/N was very giggly. She dropped her clutch on the coffee table. They laid in bed, with Y/N beneath him. He tucked hair behind her ears, and started stroking her hairline. She toiled with the hair at the back of his neck. A few moments of silence passed as they enjoyed each other's embrace.

He started kissing her sensually, cupping either side of her face. She returned the kiss enthusiastically. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist. He got up off the bed and took off his waistcoat and shirt. Grabbing her by the ankles, he dragged her to edge of the bed and put her legs on his chest. He took off her heels and started massaging her legs.

"Tell me, princess. How far do you want us to go?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Our relationship."

She pondered on her thoughts. Not wanting to be so vague that it planted doubt in Yunho's mind, but not so honest that she sounded desperate. "Right now, I'm okay with this. I don't wanna set expectations that could be beyond our reach. Let's just... go with it."

Y/N sat upright on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge. She gently tugged on his waistband, bringing her lips to his stomach. He shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. His hand played with her hair. She unbuckled his belt and brought his pants down low enough for his cock to spring out.

It stood long and hard in front of her face, grazing her chin. She took him in her hand and placed a wet kiss on the tip. As she wrapped her lips around the tip and licked it, she slowly begun pumping his shaft. He let out a shaky breath. Her mouth felt warm around him. She worked his cock all the way down her throat, stilling for a few seconds.

When she pulled him out, a string of saliva lingered. She pumped him again, looking him in the eye and saying, "Tell me you want this, Yuyu. That you want me." she licked her upper lip.

He groaned. "Fuck, I want you and more, baby girl."

She planted her mouth back on his cock, sliding down halfway and leaving enough room to keep pumping. Her tongue laved him, wetting his cock immensely. Sucking on his cock and creating a suction effect, that paired with the rapid pumping was driving him to imminent euphoria. The feeling was sensational for him, expressing his pleasure with multiple breathless moans and praises.

Yunho looped her hair around his hand and said, "Let out your tongue, princess."

Y/N laid her tongue flat and stopped pumping. She put her hands on her thighs as he started thrusting in her mouth. The walls of her throat felt like velvet around his member. The thrusts accelerated gradually and he was pounding hard. Try as hard as she may, her gag reflex betrayed her. She started crying. He was just too big for her. He stilled deep in her throat, holding her steady for a few moments. His cock was throbbing against the back of her throat. Shortly after, he pulled out, only leaving the tip in. He came in her mouth. She was sucking him, milking him dry of all he had. She pumped out as much of the cum as she could. All of his nectar collected in her mouth, some going down her chin. It was warm and tasted a bit salty, with a creamy consistency. She swallowed all of it. She peered up to him, doe eyed, wiping the residue on her chin with her thumb and licking it.

Yunho bowed down to meet her eyes and smirked. "You're such a pretty crier." he cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "My pretty little plaything."

Their lips crashed into one another, Yunho forcing his tongue into her mouth just to taste himself. She moaned into his mouth, squeezing her thighs together to stimulate herself. He grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. Her nipples stood at attention at the feel of the slightly chilly temperature. Her lace thong was the next to be discarded. Tucking his cock back in his pants, he pulled away from her.

"Play with yourself." he said with authority.

She guided her hand down to her sex as she spread her legs open on the bed. As she held Yunho's gaze, she used the slick that had gathered in her cunt to lube her clit. She rubbed that little sensitive bud, slowly picking up speed. Her body temperature started rising. She slid two fingers into her hole, thrusting them. She knew she couldn't crest an orgasm without help, but that didn't stop her from trying. Her moans filled the room as she pleasured herself for her partner. Yunho took his cock out and started rubbing one out. He was so aroused by Y/N. It didn't take long until he was leaking precum and she was dripping arousal on the sheets.

"Don't you wanna help me out, Yuyu?" she said, almost out of breath. "I can't cum without you."

"Anything for you, princess." he dropped his pants all the way down to the floor.

He positioned himself between her thighs, running his tip through her slick cunt. The tip slowly stretched her out. Gasping into his mouth, she supported herself using his broad shoulders. He filled her all the way up and started slow stroking, getting faster as the rhythm smoothed out. Taking one hand, while balancing himself with his forearm, he had his hand on her neck. Applying pressure to her sides. He told her to open her mouth and he spit inside.

"Yunho, faster!" she begged.

Yunho was getting aroused with the way her breasts danced with every pounding. Her moans were the single most beautiful song he had ever heard. Her sweet cunt was only getting warmer and slicker. The unholy squelching as their hips moved in tandem. This was his heaven. He brushed against her sweet spot hastily. She felt the pressure build up in her stomach, and her walls clenching around him. She was going to crest it; sweet, sweet release. This time she was going to comply just to get a hit. Yunho's wasn't far either as he moved erratically inside her.

"I'm not gonna make you beg." he grunted. "Cum. Now."

"Fuck, yes!" she moaned with pleasure.

Y/N locked her legs tightly around Yunho. As the pressure in her stomach eased, her high hit her like a tidal wave. She dug her freshly manicured nails into his back. His cock spasmed inside her, releasing his second load of the night. Both trying to gather themselves, the ecstasy slowly subsided. Yunho slid his cock out of her and left a kiss on her forehead. She was brought into a bear hug in bed.

"I really love how you say 'Yuyu'. It's cute, adorable honestly." he kissed the top of her head.

She beamed as if hearing the most life-changing news. "I knew you'd love it. But you kept pretending like you didn't." she pouted.

"I was just teasing, princess. You get worked up so easily." he chuckled into her hair.

"You know, I love 'princess'. Makes me feel important."

"Because you are, and I intend on treating you like one." he cooed in her ear as he brought her hand to his face, and kissed the obsidian stone.

#ateez #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho fluff #roguehongsami

345 notes · View notes

crownmemes · 1 month

Text

Advice; Everyone Should Be Making the First Move

There's been a trend within the rpc here for years now where nobody is willing to make the first move. The problem with this is that if nobody ever makes the first move, then nobody is ever going to write anything. Considering that, everybody should be making an effort to be the first one to reach out to their writing partners more often.

Examples of making the first move:

Sending an IM to say hi, then suggesting a plot

Sending a meme to start a new thread

Responding to starter calls and open starters

All of this is just as valid for old partners as it is for new. If you haven't written with someone in a while, maybe it's time to reach out to start a new thread?

The most common reason I see for people not making the first move is social anxiety. I'm going to give you all a bit of tough love here: speaking as somebody who once had crippling social anxiety (and still does in irl settings), the best way to overcome it is to push yourself to try the things that make you anxious.

Communicating with people is a really important part of rp because it's not a solo hobby, therefore you are going to have to talk to people at some point. It's unavoidable. Here are a few reminders to help you feel a little less nervous:

If somebody follows back, they're doing it because they're interested in writing with you. They are not going to be upset if you send them an IM with plot ideas

Most people are friendly! In 12 years of rping on this site, I can count on one hand the number of people who I've talked to that were actively rude to me

It's okay if someone says no to you! People have different styles and not all of them will work together. If someone says no, say thank you for the consideration, then move on. There are more people to write with out there

If somebody is nasty to you, you can block them. Don't be afraid to do this; you don't have to explain yourself, and you wouldn't want to write with someone who's rude to you anyway

If you're not sure what to say, I usually go with a version of "Hello! Thank you for following/following back! I've looked through your rules and about pages. Would you be interested in plotting something for X and my character, Y? I have an idea already, if you would like to hear?"

Don't just say "Hi!". Cut to the chase and tell them why you're messaging so they immediately know what the conversation is about

Reasons why it's good to message first:

You look actively interested in writing. This is a huge boost in your favour when it comes to asking to write with someone

It makes it a lot easier to get new interactions

It makes you appear more active

If you're a new blog, you won't have a lot of examples of your writing on your blog yet. People will be more willing to give you a chance if you approach them first

If you don't message first, you are likely to be waiting a long time before somebody messages you

It's easier to make friends if you have an active conversation!

Some other thoughts on messaging first:

You have followed the person because you are interested in writing with them. Think about why you are interested, and suggest this as a plot idea

Make sure you read through the rules still. It's very obvious when you haven't. Also, look through the muses on offer so you can suggest which you'd like to write with

If the rules say they're not mutuals only, or that you're welcome to IM to introduce yourself if you want to plot, don't be afraid to message. They wouldn't have put that in their rules if they didn't mean it

If someone is reblogging memes, it's because they want to write responses to them. Send them in! If they didn't want them sent in, they wouldn't have reblogged the meme

IMing to plot is often a better idea than liking a starter call or sending memes if you have never interacted with the person before. It gives you a chance to work out what kind of thread would work well before you start something, so the resulting thread has a lower chance of fizzling out quickly

However, all that being said, it's not just up to the person messaging first to make all the effort. If the receiver doesn't put any effort in in return, then the person making the first move is going to think they aren't interested. Eventually, they may give up messaging people at all, because what's the point if it never goes anywhere? Some tips for not seeming uninterested:

If someone IMs you, try to reply to them in a timely fashion. Especially try to reply to them if they sent you a plot idea. You don't have to agree to do the idea - it's just very annoying to be ghosted the second you actually start plotting

Suggest your own plot ideas in return, or build on the idea that the other person has given you

If you agree to write a starter, or one is written for you, follow through with it. Write the starter, reply to the thread. If it's going to take a while, let your writing partner know that you've seen it but you're going to be slow for a while

Similarly, if you post memes, reply to the ones people send you. If you never reply, people will pick up on this and eventually stop sending you things

If you go on hiatus, message your writing partners directly when you get back to let them know you'd like to write again. This will demonstrate that you really are active and ready to write again

#rph #rpc #rp psa #rpc psa #rp help #rpc help #rp advice;

77 notes · View notes

salsakiyoomi · 1 year

Text

you know when oikawa’s lying.

there are many tell-tale signs, really — it's with the way he stutters when he begins speaking at first, the way he fiddles with his hands and looks at everything but your eyes, almost as if you’d see right through him if he met your gaze, the way the tips of his ears turn pink the moment he says something even remotely untrue — if it were any other person, they’d think he just lost his wits for a moment and now he’s stumbling over his words, but you know better than that, you've known him for far too long to know better than that.

also, he's just a really bad liar.

“tooru, i know you still didn’t pick a suit for prom.” you tell him bluntly, cutting off his rambling.

he stares at you for a moment before groaning and covering his face, “look! I'm helpless okay!”

an amused smile cracks its way at your lips as you watch him slump on the ground like a child, “i thought you and iwa went to pick out suits last thursday though?"

it's a late afternoon on a saturday and the two of you are sitting in his room, talking as he was sitting on the floor, doodling something on a paper and you were sitting on his bed, laying on your stomach as you swing your legs back and forth.

he stares up at the ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin as he spreads like a starfish on the floor, “yeah but there were too many options.”

you snort, “what do you mean too many options? It's literally the same black and white tuxedo for every guy out there.”

he shakes his head rolling on his side and he gets a slight view of you laying on the bed above him, “no, i wanna get something different, something nobody else is gonna wear.”

you laugh — tooru oikawa, as always, wanted to stand out within the crowd whether that be with a different tux or a taco suit, he always wanted to be different from everybody else. and it suited him really, he was always a stand off but it's not something you particularly minded.

“well, if it helps.” you begin, “i haven't picked out my dress yet, so we can get matching colors or something.”

at that, oikawa sits up excitedly, “seriously?”

you glance at him and laugh, “yeah, sure why not? it’d be fun.” you roll on your side to face him, “i can get like a black dress while you get a red suit or we can both get red — or or! we can do pink and green or yellow and blue, you know like complimentary color matches.’’

“fuck yeah.” he responds, grinning “but if we do pink and green, im wearing a pink suit — thats something surely no guy is gonna be wearing out there.”

you chuckle, “sure, green is a color i've never worn anyway.”

tooru oikawa has always wanted to stand out, but ever since the day you've met him, he has always stood out, without even trying, that's mainly the reason you've become friends with him — he has always had an attractive personality (and an attractive face, to be fairly honest) that always enticed you to know more about him, so the day you first met him and he invited you out for lunch, of course you couldn't say no.

“oh yeah, by the way,” you say, “have you gotten a prom date yet?”

oikawa shakes his head no, and waves his hand dismissively, “had a few ask me out, i said no.”

you scoff a laugh at the way he talks about the fact that he had girls asking him out so casually, as if its something that happens everyday — which you assume it actually does, given how popular he is at school.

“what about you?” he suddenly asks, and you can’t help but notice the way he chews at his bottom lips, almost as if nervous from what your answer could be.

you reply, “nope.” shaking your head and heaving a sigh, “can you imagine? not a single guy.” you wipe away a fake tear and the both of you laugh.

the moment passes, leaving an air of tranquility settling in behind it.

“i could change that, you know." oikawa murmurs quietly, you wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for the silence in the room.

you can't help but laugh, "seriously, tooru? you couldn't find a less cheesy way to ask me out?"

you can see a slight blush form on his cheeks, and he turns away from you, "shut up, i'm trying here."

but you don't shut up, you continue to laugh, and you move off the bed and next to him on the ground, as you continue to tease him, "i thought you were going out with iwa."

although his back is turned to you, you can tell that he's rolling his eyes at you right now, "that joke is getting so lame."

you chide, cackling, "c'mon, tooru."

a moment passes with him groaning at your banter and you laughing at the way he does so, trailing your hand up and down his arm in a butterfly touch with your fingertips to provoke him.

finally, he turns around to face you, you can see the way his bottom lip is slightly jutted out as a faint red paints his cheeks and his hand grabs your wrist, forcing your fingertips off his shoulder although he longs for your touch — he pins your hand beside your head, and he seems to tower above you a bit, staring down on you and he mutters, "look, i'm serious here."

you stare up at him, your eyes wide and unblinking and your heart beating a little too fast for your own liking and your face is warm and you can't tell if it's because he's too close or if it's because of the sunlight shining on your face.

"serious?" you utter, voice barely above a whisper.

he answers, "only if you say yes." he can't hide it anymore — can't hide the blush that blooms on his cheeks, can't hide the way his heart is beating so fast, the way it always beats so fast when he's around you and he can't help but feel the way the air gets so much hotter when it's just the two of you, like there are matches alight in the atmosphere, he can't hide his feelings for you, not anymore.

"fine, then." you finally say — it's not like you can deny him or yourself either, because you feel the same way and the air is so hot when it's just the two of you.

oikawa has always stood out to you, whether it be when he was in tux suit, or a taco one, or because his hair looked extra good after hair wash day, it didn't matter what it was because he always had something to show off, even without trying.

and now this time, when he's actually trying to show off, he presses his lips against yours in a firm kiss, and he moves them against yours as if it's second nature, like he's done this a thousand times before, and you assume he has but oh god, you taste so sweet and he can't help but notice how your lips fit so perfectly with his.

and to you, he has never stood out more.

#the element of surprise by the last shadow puppets #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #oikawa tooru #oikawa headcanons #oikawa scenarios #oikawa drabbles #oikawa imagine #oikawa fluff #oikawa x reader

516 notes · View notes

babysun412 · 10 months

Text

Nct Dream Reaction: You confess first

Mark

When you confess he honestly just stares at you for a minute. The silence is excruciating for you as you glance up at his emotionless face. It's almost like he's trying to comprehend what you said. But the second you almost tell him to forget about it, his face breaks into the brightest smile. His eyes would be wide and his cheeks would be pink but the smile on his face would be one you wouldn't see again until you say 'I love you.'

He would pull you into a hug and laugh so loud but once he pulled away he would confess how much he likes you and how long he's been waiting to tell you.

"I've liked you for so long. Always wanted you to be my girl."

Renjun

When you confessed to him it was super casual and you accidentally did it infront of the dreamies. Once the words slipped from your mouth everybody had gone quiet and Renjun's mouth dropped open. The only thing that broke the tension was Chenle giggling like it was the funniest joke he's ever heard.

Before you could walk away in embarrassment, Jaemin shoved Renjun towards you.

"He likes you too!" Jaemin smiled at you before smacking Renjuns shoulder to make him say something.

"I really like you too," Renjun finally confessed back at the dreamies screamed in the background.

Jeno

EYESMILE GALORE! You have no idea how happy you make this man. He's already head over heels for you and the fact you like him back?? The words come out of your mouth and he is picking you up off your feet and hugging you tight. It would take a while for you to convince him to put you down but he refused to part from you for the rest of the day. He wanted to bask in the fact you reciprocate his feelings.

"Jeno! Put me down!" You giggled as he dug his nose into your neck.

"Noooo, I like you too."

Haechan (Donghyuck)

You had confessed to him as a way to comfort him. You were both hugging in his bed after he had cried to you about his insecurities. You didn't expect your confession to make him cry more as he held you as tight as he could. He would whisper back how much he loved you in-between sobs.

"I like you," You whispered gently to him as you pet his hair. "You don't have to like me back. But I want you to know that even if the whole world feels like it hates you. I'll always like you."

There was a moment of silence.

"I-i love you so damn much."

Jaemin

He definitely knew way before you confessed. He was just waiting for you to confess to him so he knew you were finally comfortable telling him your feelings. Once you finally did, he would smile and pull you right into a kiss. Nothing in the world could stop him as he pulled away and pecked kisses all over your face. Between kisses he told you everything he likes about you.

"I like your eyes."

Kiss

"I like your lips."

Kiss

"I like you."

Chenle

He laughs in your face at first. You two were in the kitchen making food and he caught you staring at him. After he asked what you were staring at, you realized you didn't want to hold in your feelings anymore. You burst with emotion about how much you like him and how much he means to you. After a moment of silence, he bursts out laughing and shakes his head. This caused tears to well up in your eyes as you stormed out of the kitchen.

Although it took you ignoring him and a smack in the head from Jeno, he finally realized you were serious. Later on, he would finally apologize for laughing and confess back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were being serious...I mean...you and me? I'm just me and you're-" He would start.

"An idiot who fell for a mean yet perfect idol?" You would grumble back at him.

"No! You're...you're kinda my everything." His cheeks were bright red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Huh?"

"I like you too, y/n."

Jisung

He was so shocked when you confessed to him. You basically had to snap your fingers in his face for him to finally respond to you. He had a shy smile on his face as he grabbed your hands in his and confessed back to you. You both talked about how long you liked it each other how you've wasted so much time thinking that you both didn't reciprocate the feelings. He promised you he was going to do everything he could to make up for the lost time.

"I'm going to be best boyfriend for you. I promise."

#chenle #haechan #jaemin #mark lee #jeno #nct dream reactions #nct dream #nct dream texts #park jisung #nct imagines #nct fake texts #nct drabbles #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct fic

176 notes · View notes

tihgnari · 2 years

Text

ꕤ 43. something more valuable

tw: sorta? kidnapping, violence / wc: 1k

you're currently sitting on the softest sofa known to man, staring back and forth as ayaka takes matters into her own hands. you weren't in the best of moods after getting shot down by aoki while trying to convince her to text ayato; she was so stubborn it felt like you were talking to a damn wall.

"think of it this way," ayaka says, looking at a cross-armed aoki straight in the eye as they paced back and forth in the middle of the suite's living room. "you ask ayato where he is, he responds, then we go meet him, yn and him make up, and voila! no more wedding! happy ever after for everybody! doesn't that sound amazing?"

your eyebrows raise when you see the cogs working in aoki's brain.

ayaka sends you a tiny non-verbal message, and you immediately catch on. "right! if you ask him for us now, ayaka herself will guarantee ayato will no longer be your problem. i think that's a win-win situation right there."

aoki sighs. "...fine. i'll go ask him."

—

the hotel he's checked in may not be as fancy as the principe, but when he's too busy running away from a loveless marriage forced onto him, even a shabby inn can feel a hundred times better than the five star hotel his grandfather had arranged for them.

"this hotel's kinda good, too, don't you think?" you whisper at ayaka inside the elevator, but there were too many people crammed into the cart for you to see her expression in the elevator's mirrored walls.

"the carpets look unmaintained and the plants at the lobby are plastic but sure, the hotel's a-okay—ouch!"

you pinch her side, panicked, before looking around if an employee might've overheard your conversation.

"yn, i'm telling the truth," ayaka defends herself. "we just walked in, asked if an ayato kamisato had checked in in this establishment, they said yes and even gave us his door number. how is this safe? what if we were debt collectors or… or a gang looking for him? like—come on, is customer privacy not a thing here?"

ding!

"alright, this is our floor," you mutter, pulling a still complaining ayaka's wrist through the throng of people. you can still hear her talking as you walk down the hallway, silently chanting the door number of ayato's room as you pass by.

502… 503… 504… there! 505!

only when you raised your fist to knock on the mahogany door did you realize there's a slight tremble in your hand. for a split second, you froze, the reality of the situation and what you're about to do and who you're about to face suddenly becomes too real and too overwhelming for you.

"hey."

ayaka gently squeezes your shoulder.

"i know my brother, and i know he'll forgive you."

"thank you."

you knock. three times. your heart rate spikes when you hear movement on the other side of the door. heavy footfalls on the carpet, striding closer to the door. you see the door knob turn, practically hearing the mechanism inside turning into place as the door swings open and—

"girls, i've been expecting."

"wait, what? grandpa?!"

that was the only thing you heard, until a heavy object came in contact with the back of your head, successfully knocking you out cold.

—

when you come to be, your head's still aching and you just want to go right back ahead to sleep, but the two people screaming didn't let that happen. the room seems to be barren and incredibly small. even in your half-conscious state, you've registered this fact solely for how loud their voices jumped within the small room.

"what is the meaning of this, grandpa?! order them to untie me right this instant! i'm your granddaughter for god's sake!"

ayaka seems to have already grasped the full length of the situation you both were in. not that you were surprised.

you were slowly but surely coming to, but the room has yet to notice.

"i can't believe you just hit my best friend with a metal bat, you asshole! you're going to pay for that!" ayaka hisses at the person standing on her side. she recognizes his face. a guard his grandfather had since before she even came to be in this world.

"i don't see any fault in my actions. she may be your friend as you so claim but to me? she's a lowly scum who managed to seduce my grandson and turn him away from me. ayato had always understood his duty of marrying for the sake of the family business—for my sake."

ayaka used to adore her grandfather as she never had a proper father figure in her entire life. but only now is she seeing the ugly truths her childlike mind had been too ignorant to miss.

"what grandfather even makes—"

"i can't possibly fathom what this woman has that made ayato threaten his mother saying he'll renounce his inheritance! to make him want to leave behind everything i've built for this family! such selfishness should not be tolerated!"

"that's because he found something more valuable!"

you flinched at the resounding slap you heard.

it was a split-second action. something that a normal person could've missed if he was too preoccupied with something else — but nothing slips past the current head of the kamisato family.

"i see you're awake," he says, addressing you. "good. both of you should hear what i'm about to say next."

their grandfather straightens his robes, adjusting the grip he has on his sterling-silver walking cane topped with an extravagant, swarovski-studded japanese camellia — the kamisato family crest.

"i'm done tolerating your tricks, ayaka, may this punishment straighten your priorities and remind you that nothing is more important nor valuable than family. ayato and aoki are to be wed, and not one of you is to spoil those plans. you both will remain here, inside this room, locked away with no communication to the outside world at least until the ceremony is over. i'd hate to do this, but you girls left me with no choice."

he turns to leave and ayaka screams at the top of her lungs.

"mom will never forgive you for doing this to me!"

her grandfather stops, standing at the frame of the door.

"no, child. it's your mother that should ask for my forgiveness for raising such an insolent child like you."

LOWKEY » previous : masterlist : next

a kamisato ayato social media au

summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?

notes — yay chapter bc im in a good mood cuz i won my 50/50 hehe pray i get his cons and signature weap after i offer scara all my savings lmao

🏷 i. @rinrinchin @nejibot @mich-cola @viiolettee @katsumikumo @kaz3yo @starryeyedkoko @xingqiusliegee @selenshinitai @boxdisappeared @lovelyycherries @ferumie @love6cks @kiyowoir @luvvmeilin @blackberri-jelli @moonlightbqe @kazooms @tricethecharm @lynnforever @kaedear @xiaoisahawtie @crowbird @apotatouwu @xinii @euryrue @aequha@nuttytani @plinkuro @choco-rei @aixaingela @milesluvrrad @windasteriaa @cherrytomato2 @zannivrs @k4miyato @eishtar @wccycc @ceylestia @sweet-almonds @ayatobro @animewolflover278 @queenaveryrules @veyu002 @ukinya @ventis-dandelion @adeptusx @x-xxiaos @loveyoutothestars @ssalamanderr

#genshin imagines #kamisato ayato imagines #kamisato ayato smau #genshin smau #genshinimpact smau #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #ayato kamisato x reader #ayato kamisato x y/n #ayato kamisato x you

1K notes · View notes

wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt · 1 year

Text

Okay I've been meaning to respond to a post but Tumblr won't let me reblog it for whatever reason, but I feel like my response has enough context on its own that I can make it it's own post.

So this is in response to multiple posts I've seen people make about Wilson telling House that he wishes he had been an asshole like him, House responds that he would still have cancer, and Wilson says, "Yeah but at least I'd feel like I deserved it!"

There are so many people saying that Wilson had absolutely no reason for saying that, that they can't understand why he would say it, that it didn't need to be in there, and how dare he say that to House after House helped him so much after his cancer diagnosis.

There was a reason behind it, just because it's not a happy reason, doesn't mean it's not an understandable one. I think the way Wilson sees it at first is that House has spent his entire life pushing people away and hurting them so that he doesn't get hurt in return. House has abused and ruined every relationship he's had. House constantly hurts people, and yet, he gets to live. Wilson, on the other hand, has practically dedicated his life to helping and taking care of others. He's maintained this nice guy mask his entire life, and yet Wilson, who has lived what others would call a good life, who has been what others would consider a good man, is the one that gets cancer and is going to die.

Wilson feels like he wasted his life being a "good man" instead of just doing and saying whatever the fuck he wanted like House. Wilson is jealous of House. Wilson is laying there on the couch in insufferable pain with death looming over him, and here's Gregory House, asshole extraordinaire, who's alive and well (as well as he usually is). That has to really fucking hurt.

This idea that "omg how could Wilson do that?? He said that for no reason!!" Is just not true. Wilson said it because he's was in excruciating pain and terrified and just found out he was going to die in a couple of months. Wilson was scared, and he was lashing out, which is a very human reaction. House does it all the time, Wilson is not special in the way he reacts to pain. The entire series is full of House berating people and hurting them and saying awful things, and pushing them away. He does that to Wilson multiple times. And Wilson forgave him every single time. And so when Wilson is in pain and lashing out, House knows not to take his personally, and that's why he basically immediately forgave him.

House and Wilson know each other well enough that they can see behind the harsh words, and understand each others intent. Ideally, Wilson would not have said that, and he should have apologized, but that was not a crazy horrific reaction. It's true, House has done a lot for Wilson during their relationship, especially after his cancer diagnosis, but Wilson has also sacrificed for House. After the infarction, House lashed out and pushed away and abused everybody until they all cracked under it and left. Everybody except Wilson. Wilson put up with the constant humiliation, degradation, pain, and abuse from House.

Wilson put House before everything in his life, including his marriage. Later, Wilson refuses to vote to get rid of House, and therefore loses his spot on the board, and the job that he loved and put so much of his life into. All to protect House. Wilson lies multiple times to the police to protect House, risking his freedom if they found out. Wilson and House constantly sacrifice for each other, it's just what they do. Neither one of them is "better" or "worse", they just are.

If they switched roles, and House was the one with cancer, House would definitely lash out as Wilson, no doubt about it. And Wilson would forgive him. Wilson has such a realistic reaction. It doesn't matter how many times you see people diagnosed with cancer and think that it's not personal, that cancer doesn't have an agenda, nothing can prepare you for when it happens to you or somebody you love, and a lot of the time, it feels incredibly personal.

How we react to dying and sickness is not always rational, and anger is a stage of grief. This is Wilson trying to grapple with his death, and that doesn't always look pretty. Sure, it was a fucked up thing to say and House didn't deserve it, but Wilson wasn't just insulting him for the fun of it. He had a very realistic, understandable reason behind it.

Not going to lie, I see people all the time talking about this scene in particular, with such a surface level approach to it. They act mad or confused, and talk about how they have no idea how someone could possibly hurt their favourite characters. So yeah, Wilson saying it was a shitty thing to do, but there is no way it was the worst thing anybody said, and he had very obvious, complex reasons for it.

I honestly love this scene, and I think it gives so much insight into Wilson's character. Wilson finally lashes out and exposes his grief in such a raw, mean way is lowkey a pivotal moment for him because he's finally letting himself be the "bad guy." And yeah, they weren't forced to put this in the show. It's literally fiction. They don't have to put anything in. But it fits so well. So yeah, just because he has complex reasoning for why he said what he said, that doesn't mean the reasoning doesn't exist.

151 notes · View notes

xoxo-sarah · 1 year

Text

Deserved it

↝a/n: I need a better title for this. Also this has been in my notes app for so long and I've been too scared to post it.

↝pairing:Steve Harrington x fem!Hargrove!reader

↝ Warning: Billy, Reader is Billy's twin sister, angst , fighting, blood, arguing, slight smut, making out, not proofread

↝⎙ 9.9.23

"I have a hard time believing that." Oh- your smile. How could you look so much like Billy, yet so different? In a good way, of course. One thing that you didn't physically have that was the same was your smile. Yours was, well, nicer. More friendly. Less intimidating.

"I'm serious! Look- ask Nance." If you didn't know any better, you'd probably say he was practically begging you to believe him.

"I dunno, I just can't picture a guy like you being a ladies man."

"Okay, ouch."

Laughing, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of playfully picking on this poor soul.

"I was literally known as King Steve-"

"Bull."

That's how it all started. Playful banter between a kid who peaked in highschool and a new girl who had everyone's eyes on her and her own brother. Apparently, your family moving to Hawkins was a huge favor for everyone. You're welcome. You'd probably tell everybody, given the chance.

•••••

"Stay away from that Harrington boy." Billy puffed at his cigarette, before flicking it absentmindedly onto the dry ground.

"Steve-"

"Oh, first name basis now?" He scoffed, drumming his fingers on the car roof.

"He-"

"-Is trouble. He's looking for some dumb broad to pick up and have a good time."

"Billy, I don't really care what you think. And even if I was into him, that isn't any of your business." He slammed his hands down on the roof of the car, making you jump.

"Y/n," Billy tsked, "you are a lot of things, but a dumb slut isn't one of 'em. Now get in the car." Before you could respond, he sat down in the driver's seat, starting the engine.

Slamming the door, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and turned around.

Billy threw his arms up and huffed as he watched you walk away. Grabbing another cigarette, he lit it, letting you walk a bit ahead before he started driving. If you were going to act like a brat, he was going to treat you like one. He wasn't one to give in to anyone, but you had moments that made his cold heart ache for you, he was always going to be there for you, but only for you. You literally shared a womb together. There's obviously a connection that no amount of sibling back-and-forth could wilt, right?

Hearing an engine roaring, you didn't need to glance back to know who it was. Billy slowed, looking at your side profile, noting your sour expression. "C'mon, Cookie. The weather isn't looking too promising for you to be acting like this." Cookie. The nickname he had made up when he caught you stealing a cookie out of the cookie jar that was on top of the fridge. You were lucky he was the one who caught you. If it had been Neil, you wouldn't have gotten the cookie and a new nickname out of it.

"Fuck off, William."

That, right there, pissed him off to no end.

He sped past you, kicking rocks and dirt behind as he went, swerving in and out of the lane to taunt you.

You scoffed, "Fuckin' dick."

"Watch the floor!" Stopped in your tracks, it took everything in your being to not spin around and smack the shit out of Neil. Here you stood, soaked head to toe, along with your backpack and everything in it, and he was worried about the floor.

"I'll try to keep the water from falling until I get to my room." Giving him a fake smile, you marched to your room, slamming the door.

Almost as soon as the door shut, it opened again and Billy came in. He had to of just came out of the shower, steam rolling off his skin. Walking over to your desk, he picked up your deodorant.

"What do you want now?" You practically barked.

He held his free hand up, "Relax. I ran out." He harshly applied the stick with his other hand.

Yanking the stick from his hand, you scowled. "Buy your own. Get out."

"I don't have any money." He yanked it back, lathering his other armpit."

"Get. A. Job." You now harshly yanked it.

"I have a job, I just haven't gotten paid yet."

"That sucks for you. Get out, now."

"I don't think I will." Billy pulled out your desk chair, running his fingers through his wet curls.

"I will scream at the top of my lungs if you don't get your ass out now."

"Fine, whatever. Don't forget to clean the water up." Looking down, you watched as more water continued to drip from your soaked clothes to the hardwood flooring.

The deodorant went hurling against the door and clanked against the floor as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Stop slamming the doors!"

The feelings of wanting to claw at your skin was intensifying each time your father opened his mouth.

You were in deep need of a relaxer.

•••••

"Billy would kill me- mmph~" As soon as Steve's lips pulled away, yours were chasing them.

"Shut up."

"M'kay." His hands tightened on your thighs as he felt your hips wiggle and closing against his own. Moaning as your pulled at his hair, he didn't have time to be embarrassed. He wanted you. Needed you. Right now.

You had gotten dried off and practically ran to the Harrington's. At first, it was just to blow off some steam, vent, if you will. But Steve had gotten some weed off of a friend and who were you to say no? A relaxer is a relaxer. Things got a little out of hand and you ended up saying a few things no sober person should ever admit. It didn't take much green for you to end up like you were. You were going to blame the plant either way.

Your other hand slid under his shirt, feeling the skin and hair under it. You groaned against his lips, feeling him unbutton your jeans.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, helping you pull his shirt over his head and throw it somewhere on the floor. His hands went back to your thighs as your lips went down his neck, starting at his jaw and going behind his ear and down. You kissed his body as if you were praising it. Every touch of your soft hands left a fire-hot trail, begging for your lips to follow with a cooling effect.

This is surely heaven, he thought.

Steve made a sound, causing you to quickly pull back just as quickly as you had put your hand in his pants and moved lower down his body. Be slowly shook his head, shifting in the seat. "Mmm, no. I want to touch you." Your unsure expression quickly vanished, replaced with a wicked smirk.

"Yeah? How?"

Steve was so glad he has matured from his King Steve days. Younger him would never take the time to worship a woman's body. But yours, oh God, yours deserved every bit of praise and everyone should worship your perfectly imperfect body. Every stretch mark, every crevice, every indent that society deemed 'ugly'. Hell no. He was set on showing you just how much he adored you and your body.

•••••

Steve chased after you, having trouble keeping up. "I didn't - I didn't mean for this to-"

"Stop following me."

"Cookie, please."

You spun around, a look of fury in your eyes. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Stop following me." You repeated, "I never want to see you ever again."

"This wasn't supposed to happen- not like this."

"Oh please, stop with this bullshit." Steve had to stop himself from wincing at the choice of words. Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. "Imagine how humiliating this is for me."

"It was stupid! Carol and Tommy-they made some stupid bet and I was drunk and I just couldn't say no for some stupid fucking reason. Please,"

It was true, they were all plastered when the bet was made. You had just shown up, a fresh face and already the talk of the town. Every boy in their grade had said something about you and your body. At first, Steve ignored the cruel, disgusting words and acted like your arrival didn't affect him. You two hadn't talked much, but he had heard the way you talked to Billy, someone you had literally known since birth, your sweet voice yet snippy remarks.

Carol had made some jab, and Tommy had found it weird when Steve didnt laugh. Sure, they had grown apart, but it wasn't that long ago when Steve would make those same remarks. The liquid courage had Steve argue with Tommy on how you would totally not date Steve or anyone like him. The next morning, the terrible hangover has Steve promising himself to never drink again. The horrid memories haunted him until he got to school. Tommy had a group of preppy kids huddles around Steves locker. Apparently, Tommy had opened his mouth and spilled out all of what Steve had said. Multiple guys clapped and went to high-five. "King Steve is back!" What was he supposed to do? Almost everyone knew about what he had said, well, not you or Billy. God. Billy would kill me, he thought.

He was surprised no one had told you when you walked though the school doors. Everyone kept quiet, until 3 weeks later. To be honest, Steve had forgotten about it. Or tricked himself into thinking so. At the beginning, you guys getting closer was purely for the bet, but you were so quick witted, so smart, so pretty, so easy to talk to.

Carol didn't keep quiet for long. Just as you and Steve got so close, skin to skin, breath to breath, heart to heart, Carol had gushed about how Steve actually won some bet. Confused, you listened as both Carol and Tommy told you all about it and about what Steve had said. It didn't help that so many people were standing around, watching everything go down. Steve was lucky Billy wasn't there at that moment either.

He tried to reach for your hands, sighing in defeat when you yanked them away. "Please. I can't- we have something good."

"Do we? You embarrassed- humiliated me. You let it happen. No matter what we have done, it never meant as much to you as it did to me."

"It did. It does. Everything we did meant everything to me. Y/n, please."

"She warned me about you, ya know. Everyone did."

"What?"

"Nancy. She warned me about you. You only ever want one thing."

He was at a loss of words, flabbergasted. "What?"

"You got it. So you can leave me alone now."

Steve watched as you walked away, mouth hung open. He didn't know whether to go after you, or marinate in what you had said.

What did Nancy say and why?

Turning a corner in the supermarket, you didn't expect to almost run into something, or someone. "Shit-sorry."

The girl waved you off, fixing her hair. She looked up, watching as you picked up the loaf of bread you had dropped.

"Y/n, right? Billy and Max's sister."

You looked at her curiosity. "Yeah, you?"

"Nance. Nancy."

"Nancy Wheeler?" Her cheeks became red. You had heard of her.

"Steve has told me alot about you."

Oh.

Her face fell a little. "What has he said?"

Alarm showed on your face. He hadn't specifically talked about her, just about how they used to be together and how she could vouch for him being a total took a year or two back.

"Oh, just about how you were together."

Well, this is awkward.

"Yeah." Yeah.

"Ya know, he told me to ask you about his King Steve days." Her own face didn't have the same playful smile yours did. It was unsettling.

"Did he now?"

You looked at her confused, what had you just unleashed?

Apparently it was a lot.

•••••

Steve tried everything to get you to talk to him. He called, never getting an answer, or when someone did pick up, it was either your dad, the clueless mom of Max, or Billy. He brought you flowers that stayed on your porch and rotted. He tried talked to you in school. He never got a response out of you. It was as if you didn't see him.

He deserved it.

One night, he thought it would be a good idea to try one more time when the parents left for date. You were surely home, he didn't know about Max and Billy, but he didn't really care.

He knocked on the door, 1, 2, 3 times.

"Y/, come on, please! I'm sorry!" His head dropped against the door. He was desperate at this point. Even if you opened the door and told him you hated his guts, he would be beyond grateful to just hear your voice on last time. He'd understand you.

Hearing someone making their way to the door, he fixed his posture, waiting.

Right after the door opened, a blow was delivered straight to Steve's left cheek. He staggered back, his back hitting a pole keeping the screening up around the porch.

"You gonna make another bet about my sister, Harrington? You just can't leave her alone, can you?"

Billy's hands continued to pushed at Steve, pushing him further off the porch and into the yard. Insult after insult was thrown at Steve, he could only take it, keeping his mouth shut. He deserved it.

"William!"

Was he hearing things? Had Billy hit him one too many times? Your sweet voice rang through his head, bouncing around, wrapped his throbbing brain in a silk bandage, kissing it better as if it was a simple scratch. "Get off of him! Damn it!" The blows at Steve's side stopped. This time, Billy went staggering back after you had pushed him off of the hunched over boy.

You were too nice.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Billy bellowed. He threw his bloody hands up towards Steve. "You're gonna let him get away with humiliating you?"

"You're gonna kill him!" You made a point to look at the blood dripping from his knuckles and then to Steve's bleeding nose and swelling eye.

"He deserves it!"

"That is not your place!" Billy closed his mouth, looking at you in pure disbelief. You had just yelled at him, truly raised your voice, not one ounce of familiarity behind those eyes that burned in hatred. Your eyes softened, biting your lip before going to apologize. "Billy," before you could continue, he stomped towards the house, bumping into Max, who watched the whole thing.

After looking at the door, contiplating what to do next. You would deal with Billy later. Steve had to be gone by the time your father got back.

"What we had-"

" ‘what we had’? We fucked, Steve. That's it." You sounded tired, exhausted.

Steve stood hunched over, at a loss of words. It wasn't just a simple fuck. There was something there. He felt it, surely you did too. Your bodies fit together too perfect for a simple fling. His hands wouldn't remember every curve of your body for a simple fuck that didn't mean anything what so ever. He refused to take that for an answer. Even if it took a while to show you that you did mean more, he'd do just that.

"Alright."

He turned, walking towards his car.

"Steve," you called out, "you're hurt-"

"I got it."

He didn't waste any time getting in his car and leaving.

If you wanted space, he'd give you space. He'd find a way to make it up to you, even if it took a lot of time and a lot of different ideas and apologies. You both needed time to heal, emotionally and physically.

-----------

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

#🕶️#steve Harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x you #steve Harrington x hargrove!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things angst #stranger things fanfic #xoxo-sarah 🩷

297 notes · View notes

sopiao · 1 year

Note

Hii, how are u? idk if you're taking request or something, but I've been having this idea stuck in my mind, about König and task force 141 running to help the reader who is in some troubles during a mission with them, and the reader is singing "I need a hero" while is fighting and hiding while they arrive to help and at the end everything ends well and everybody laughs of the reader singing while was in this big trouble...

I hope u can help me with this but if not is totally ok, have a nice night/day 🍀

i’d be doing better if it wasn’t for studies T_T but tyy for asking!! really hope i was able to write it how u envisioned it to be.

but ODMSHJXS OMG THIS IS SUPER FUNNY.

like the reader using singing to keep them occupied and a way to try and calm them while they’re in trouble. AND THEY CAN HEAR IT ON THE WALKIE BUT THEY CANT LAUGH.

(Callsign will be ‘Shark’ again, just to make it easier instead of always using reader or they pronouns)

Shark was left behind in the safe house, they felt nauseous and seasick after the boat ride. So, they just left them at an empty house to hide while they do the first part of the plan, just scoping the area out and double checking how well the plan will actually go.

Shark was lazily resting on the couch, dirty boots discarded on the floor next to them, with an arm draped over their eyes. Trying not to move too much or look around to make them even more nauseous.

After a couple more minutes of long, deep, breaths and having to stay still for 30 minutes, they felt okay enough to finally breath normally. With nothing left to do they decided to check up on them. Reaching across their chest to their walkie.

“Update?” Shark waited, listening to the white noise.

“Alpha Golf” Shark rolled their eyes at Ghost’s voice, not expecting him to be the one to respond.

“Speak normally. Saying that takes longer than just sayin’ ‘All good’” Of course Shark had to say something, taking every opportunity to nitpick Ghost, and pick at his patience.

“Shut up” They heard back.

“Hallo!” König’s voice rang through, making them smile unconsciously.

“Feelin’ better?” Price’s gruff voice checked in on them.

“You throw up yet?”

“Eww” Soap exaggerated his disgust.

All of their little messages and chiming in made them less bored, better than just staring at the ceiling.

“Oi! You have your own radio!” Ghost’s annoyed voice boomed through their end. Making Shark laugh, they imagined that they were all leaned into Ghost’s chest to talk to them.

“Asshole” Soaps little hushed comment made them laugh even more. He must’ve whispered it in his own walkie, not knowing that they’re all on the same channel so they’d all hear it, including Ghost. They can just imagine the stop-in-tracks and stare from Ghost.

—

“3:10” Shark groan, impatient, it’s been 30 minutes since they last talked to them. They were gonna take a while since it’s quite a distance to get to the site and they had to be extra cautious as to not get caught.

They hummed songs and little snippets of things they hear on the internet to try and pass time. A creak interrupted their own cover of Bruno Mars ‘Treasure’. Shark’s gloved hand immediately flung to their gun, small handgun close to their body as they sat up.

Eyes trailed from their boots to their boots on the floor, then back at the door, then to the hall, back to the door. There wasn’t enough time to get their boots not, not taking the risk.

Three men emerged from their hiding places, all masked, and all armed, unfortunately. Dammit. Shark’s eyes frantically shifted between the three men that slowly closed in on them and then to their surroundings and blocked exit.

“Mother fucka—” Shark decided it was better to take their chances at running away than to be caught and a liability as a hostage, compromising the mission. Spinning on their heel to kick away their gun then elbow the closest man on the neck.

As fast as they can they wrapped their arm around the man’s neck and turned to use his body as a meat shield. Too slow to react and too late to stop the bullets, his teammates fired shots into his chest in a failed attempt to get to Shark.

Immediately booking it to the back door and running into the woods. Cringing at the feeling of twigs and small pebbles that rubbed and poked the bottom of their feet, nothing but the fabric of their socks.

For some reason they were still in that same singy feeling. A nervous tick to try and make their head clearer to make better decisions. Shark started to sing, scat, the doo doo doo’s of the beginning of the famous song awarded for best music moment, Holding Out for a Hero.

The two little ash’s of the song was sung, sorta, when Shark tripped on a thick, fallen, trunk of a tree, and the second played when a bullet flied past them dangerously close to the top of their head. They flipped the switch of their walkie, now’s a good time to alert the others that the empty cabin isn’t safe.

“—FUCK. THERE’S MORE???” Right as they flipped the switch, a different kind of gun fire blasted through the woods, they looked back and saw 5 more goons running after them.

“Shark! Fuck’s happening?!” Price’s voiced yelled through the walkie, almost immediately, responding when the first gunshot rang through the walkies.

“THEY’RE GONNA GET MY ASS. THEY’RE GONNA EAT MY ASS” They were too panicked to properly answer, properly tell them that they were not safe, but I think they got the message through.

Price immediately set his team out, thinking of the best and fastest route to get back. They’ve done enough scoping out for now. Shark just had to hold out on their own for a bit. Still continuing their own performance.

“Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?” They continued, finding an abandoned warehouse and running inside, their stalkers following in as well. Their heavy breathing from the running cut through their notes.

“Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?” When the first soldier came in they took the opportunity to shoot him twice in the knee, they can’t kill them, but they can slow them down. The lyrics came so naturally, they could even hear the background singers in their head.

“Late at night, I toss and I turn and I dream of what I neED! AHH—” They stumble out the half open window, small enough to get through, while the other soldiers have to get back out to continue the chase, leaving their injured soldier back.

The entire time, they left their walkie on, too distracted from the bullets that almost scratched their insides to remember to switch it off. They all could hear it as they ran back to the truck to speed their way back to the lone cabin. They wanted to laugh at how Shark dealed with the situation but felt it was too soon.

“I need a hERO— AGH. I-I’m holdin’ out for a hero ‘till the end of the nIGHT” Shark had to take a sharp turn into the thick woods and hide behind a tree, crouched down, half a minute later the rest of the men followed. By now the saviors had their suspicions that maybe the song chose unconsciously was a subtle message to them to hurry the fuck up.

They were safe for now but it was only a couple minutes until they can see that their trail stopped and they had to retrace it back to them. Shark used their knife to help them climb up the thick trunk of the tree and sit on a high branch, unconsciously hugging the trunk.

“He’s gotta be strong, haah, and he’s gotta be fast, and he’s gotta be fresh from the fight” For some reason they continued to sing, in a way, as a way to calm their breathing and heart beat down, wheezing and gasping in between verses. Very quite and very hushed as to not get caught if the men ever came back. The adrenaline too much, they started to zone out.

—

“There!” Gaz pointed out, running up the ruffled leaves, following the tracks, and finding a single white sock. White cotton sock with a blue stripe along the rim and two pieces of fabric to look like bunny ears, small bunny face on the toe part.

“Shark’s” Soap shook his head, gaining hope after long dread. They started to lose hope after a while since they couldn’t find any trace of Shark. Price motion his hand forward, signaling his team to continue on. Gaz pocketed the sock.

—

The crunching of leaves pulled Shark back to the present, they immediately froze. Unconsciously slowed their breathing and heart pumping faster. They listened to the footsteps and dry leaf crunching getting louder and louder, closer and closer.

“Look! Bunny sock!” König’s voice picked up on Shark’s ears. König’s caught everyone’s attention and pointed up at Shark’s dangling foot with the matching bunny sock. They looked down and saw the five of them looking up at them hugging the spruce wood.

“Christ. Took ya’ long enough” They scoffed, starting to climb down. They were thankful, just putting out some sarcasm after what just happened.

“Don’t worry, Shark. Heros are here” Price teased. Half way down Shark fell back, with enough trust, Price caught Shark with ease. They patted his chest before jumping off and dusting themselves off. They were surprised with his comment. Huh, I was just singing about that. But they dismissed it, wanting to save themselves from embarrassment.

“Guess ya’ didn’t need to hold out until the end of the night” Ghost spoke up, quoting a lyric from the song, to subtly hint Shark that they heard everything.

“What—”

183 notes · View notes