#I have a normal amount of thoughts I'm writing down for this AU

[landfilloftrash]

once again; the thoughts strike, and they strike fast.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

satosugu x reader smut ?! college au (like ur SCRUMPTIOUS nanami fic!!)

also, are there any genres (or kinks / fetishes) u are uncomfortable with? aside from the obvious weird ones...

💞

Suck and Blow

Tags: Satosugu x Reader, college au, nsfw, mdni, mmf, switch sub leaning Satoru and switch dom leaning Suguru, can’t express this enough they FUCK.

Synopsis: While playing a good old college game of suck and blow, you’ve seemingly captured the attention of both Satoru and Suguru

An: Hmm, aside from the grotesque ones (age play, race play, piss/scat kink, etc.), i don’t think i have any hard boundaries. i try to be pretty flexible with my writing. i think one thing i would probably not be motivated to write would be ass play in a heterosexual relationship. nothing wrong w it! just not my cup of tea, and i’d find it hard to write. So sorry, this was kinda rushed near the end, but I needed to get it out before monstertober. Hope you enjoy!

"Hey Satoru?" Suguru's soothing voice cooed to his long-term boyfriend. Well, basically his boyfriend. They never officially put a term on their relationship, but fucking each other raw on a nightly basis is basically being boyfriends right? If you were to ask Satoru, he'd say Suguru is his husband, and they're basically married by common law.

Satoru was lounging in a recliner in the common area of the frat house. He was pressing buttons on a small handheld gaming device as he concentrated on it. "Yeah?" He responded.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Suguru asked as he walked into common area. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at the white-haired male.

"Oh, you're serious." Satoru mused as he looked up at the brunette. He quickly shut off the gaming device and tossed it to the side. "C'mere." He hummed as he patted his lap for Suguru to sit down.

Geto's lips curled into a smile, and he rolled his eyes at Satoru's request. "What?" Satoru asks with a small pout as he looked up at the brunette.

Suguru takes a seat on the couch, and his hands pat on his lap. "You c'mere." He mocks. Satoru's pout immediately melts, and he hops up out of the recliner.

"You don't have to tell me twice." He hums with a smile as he sits at on his boyfriend's lap, wrapping his legs around the larger one's waist. "What is it, Sugu?"

"I was wondering about something." Geto says calmly as his fingers come up and gently card through Satoru's fluffy hair. His boyfriend leans into his touch like a needy kitten.

"Go on. You're like edging me here." Satoru laughs as he flutters his eyes shut. His long white eyelashes batting closed.

"You normally like it." Suguru smugly comments, earning a pinch from Satoru. "Okay, okay... I was just wondering... Have you thought about fucking a girl?"

Satoru's eyes immediately open as he furrows his eyebrows in utter shock and confusion. He did not know that was where Geto was going with this.

"What...? Are you saying you're straight because you take an awfully large amount of dick to be str-"

"That's not what I'm saying you idiot. I was wondering if you ever just... thought about fucking a girl? It's okay if not."

The white-haired male pondered his boyfriend's question for a minute. Had Satoru thought about it? Sure. He was a man who would really fuck whatever gender as long as he thought they were attractive and if they had a good enough personality. Is that something he should tell his boyfriend though?

"Is this a trick question? Are you going to be mad if I say yes?" He reluctantly asks, still unsure of what Geto was trying to get at here.

"I'm not going to be mad, Satoru. I asked for a reason, just please answer." Suguru reassures as he continued to play with his boyfriend's hair.

"I mean... yeah, I've thought about it, but I would never do that to you."

"Have you thought about.. fucking a girl with me?"

It was straight up embarrassing how fast Satoru got hard at the thought.

"No, I haven't... but now that you mention it, I don't think I'll ever be able to get that thought out of my head."

"I think we should do it." Suguru casually mentions as he looks into his boyfriend's eyes. "I think it'd be fun."

"How do we find someone to do that with though? I don't think I want it to be just anybody, but I don't want any of our friends to see us like that either."

*** *** ***

The frat house was filled with people. Alcoholic beverages were at every turn. A group of misfits in the corner were packing a bowl. The guys had pushes all of the common room furniture to the walls, making an open space in the living room.

Satoru was sat on the floor between Suguru's legs. The brunette was sharing a cigarette with Shoko as he lazily petted Satoru's head. The white-haired male was looking through the crowd. He was on a mission tonight.

Ever since Suguru brought up sharing a girl between them, Satoru hadn't been able to shake the thought out of his mind. All of it sounded so exciting to him, being able to have the best of both worlds? He felt like a horny teenager all over again. When Geto wasn't tending to him, he was jerking off to the sheer thought of sharing a girl with him.

Suguru was much more tamed in his desires, though he still thought about it often. He had a wet dream of him and Satoru sharing a girl one night, and that was what started this entire mess. He had never woken up to a pool of pre-cum like he did that morning after the dream.

"So anyways, that's why I want to die." Shoko finishes up her story of why she has the worst roommate ever. Geto was halfway listening, but he was mostly just bumming cigarettes of Shoko. He didn't get to smoke often, since Satoru always whined about the taste, but he indulged during parties.

As he nodded and took another drag, a figure caught his eye. He looked over towards the sea of people in the kitchen, and he saw you quietly socializing with a group of people.

You were breathtaking, and you absolutely did not go to their college.

"Shoko, who's that?" Suguru asks calmly before nodding his head towards you.

"Oh, I think that's one of Ino's friends." She answers as she sits up. "I think Ino mentioned that she recently just transferred here."

"How is Ino friends with her?" Geto immediately asks as his face twists in confusion. Ino wasn't necessarily a bad guy: looks or personality wise, but he just couldn't see a girl like you hanging out with a guy like Ino.

"Beats me." Shoko shrugs uninterestingly as she leans her head back against the couch.

Suguru gently nudged his boyfriend as he was still sat between his legs. "Look towards the kitchen." He murmurs softly.

Satoru immediately glances over towards the kitchen, making his gaze seem casual. However, once his eyes lock onto you, he immediately knows why Suguru told him to look in the kitchen.

"Her." Satoru decides. "We could share her."

*** *** ***

Why would Ino invite you to a party then not show up? Now, you're stuck awkwardly talking with his other friends about shit you don't even care about.

Transferring to a new college right at the cutoff date was the worst idea you've had in all your life. For one, you were dreadfully behind in all your classes. For two, you had no idea who anyone was besides Ino. For three, all of the good dorms had been taken, so you were stuck living in the shitty one with a leak.

Honestly, coming to this party was the second worst idea. You should be in your leaky dorm catching up on the mountain of homework piled up. You only showed up to this damn party because Ino invited you, trying to be a good friend and introduce you to people.

You set down the alcoholic beverage you had been sipping on casually for the last hour, and you decide that you're going to just go home and pretend like this didn't happen.

As you reach towards the door, you notice a tall figure step in front of you. He leans his arm above the doorframe, and he looks down at you.

"Leaving so soon?" The white-haired male spoke in a pouty tone, but he had a smirk on his face.

"Oh- um, yeah... I have homework to do." You answer awkwardly as you stare up at him. His bright blue eyes were pretty but almost eerily so. It was giving uncanny.

"It can wait just a couple more hours, can't it? The party's only just begun." He coerces as his hand slowly drops from the top of the door frame down towards you. "I'm Satoru by the way. I don't recognize you."

"I just transferred here." You quietly admit as you take his hand and tell him your name.

"This late in the semester? Sounds pretty foolish to go through all the trouble."

"You're telling me." You respond as you look towards the door again. You really should go back to your dorm and catch up with homework.

"Satoru, you're crowding her." A calm voice spoke as he approached as well. He had long dark hair and a kind, trusting smile. He was also just as tall as Satoru. "I'm sorry about him. He gets a bit excited." The calmer male explained as he placed a hand on Satoru's shoulder.

"He's alright.. I was just leaving anyways..." You respond as you move toward the door. The dark haired male gently grabbed your wrist.

"Hey- I think I recognize you from somewhere." He says as he slightly leans in as if he's inspecting your face.

"No Suguru, you got it wrong. She's a transfer." Satoru says as he also leans in with Suguru, propping himself up on the dark-haired male's shoulder. They were both leaning in closely to your personal space.

"A transfer, hm? I'm sure that's not been easy. You deserve to let loose a little." The other responds, saying all the right things to convince you to stay. "Let me get you a drink, yeah? We should be good hosts, Satoru." He says as he walks off to the kitchen, leaving you and the other behind.

"Where'd you transfer from, sweets?" Satoru asks as he subtly leads you away from the door.

"Oh, just a nearby community college." You respond as you see Geto walking back towards you two with a red solo cup in his hands. Now, you've heard all the horror stories of what can happen to vulnerable college girls at frat parties. "I don't drink, sorry." You politely decline with a smile.

"Hm? I saw you drinking earlier." Suguru says as he tilts his head to the side slightly in confusion. Shit. Busted.

"Oh sorry, what I meant to say was I don't drink drinks that are made by men."

A look of sudden understanding crosses Suguru's face. He then looks down at the drink, and he takes a huge gulp of it first. "Satoru, take a drink." He hands the cup over to the other male, and he also takes a drink out of it. "I'm sorry. The thought never crossed my mind."

Satoru hands the now almost empty cup to you, and you can't help but laugh softly. These two dorks really just almost drunk the entire drink to prove to you that nothing was in it. "Oh, what the hell." You shrug as you take the last gulp of the drink. "Thanks."

"Of course, angel." Suguru smiles in your direction.

"Ooo, do you know what we should play with our new friend?" Satoru asks with a cheeky grin as he wiggles his eyebrows up at Suguru.

*** *** ***

Before you know it, a group of people are sat in a circle around in the common area, and there's a playing card in the center. Suck or blow is a game where the players pass around a playing card using only their lips via sucking or blowing. If the card is dropped between two people, they must kiss. To heighten the fun, after the card is dropped, it is cut in half, making it harder to keep the card up on the players' lips.

"Okay, but this isn't fair. Satoru and Suguru shouldn't be allowed to sit next to each other because they're just gonna kiss every chance they get." Someone in the circle mentions as they roll their eyes.

It just now occurs to you that the two men who convinced you to stay are lovers.

"You're so right. C'mere, sweets, so we don't ruin the game for everyone else." Satoru grins as he scoots over to the side, making room for you between him and Geto. Your eyes widen slightly from his proposition as you had a weird feeling about this game.

You slowly crawl between Satoru and Suguru. They're both big men sat with their legs crossed, so their legs are just casually rubbing against yours. No matter how much you try to scrunch up you're own body, they seems to press right against you.

Your eyes follow the playing card around the circle as people are giggling and taunting each other. Faces are red, there's awkward moments of tension, and a pair of people actually end up accidentally dropping the card.

It actually seems like a pretty lighthearted game. The card is cut in half, and the game resumes. Your heart starts to thump in your chest a bit harder as the card is making it's way closer and closer to you. With the way the rotation is going, you'll have to receive the card from Satoru and pass it off to Suguru.

Seems easy enough.

Satoru leans in to some guy that's sat beside him, and they both nearly laugh. Luckily, Satoru is able to obtain the card from the guy, lightly sucking in so the card stays flush against his lips.

He turns towards you, and his eyes lock with yours. For a moment, you swear you're able to see a devilish look in his eyes before he tilts his head up and blows the card away from his lips. "Oops. I dropped it." He feigns innocence with a smirk. "What can you do?"

You feel yourself lean back slightly. Surely, this wasn't fair. It's not that you didn't want to kiss Satoru. Let's just be honest, who doesn't? But you certainly didn't want to kiss him in front of his boyfriend.

"What are you runnin' from, angel? Satoru doesn't bite too hard." Suguru encourages you as he gently nudges you forward. Your face immediately flushes, and you barely have any time to respond before Satoru cups your cheeks and pulls you into the steamiest kiss you've ever received.

This was not like the kiss those other two people shared. This was deep, intimate, and totally inappropriate. Satoru scooted off of his bottom and onto his knees as he leaned more into you, bullying his way into your mouth by biting your lower lip.

A small muffled whimper escapes your mouth as you’re almost unable to breathe. Your hands push against his shoulders, and he groans as he’s forced to separate from you.

His face is slightly flushed, and his breath is short pants. His bright blue eyes were half-lidded as he leaned back to his spot with a smirk.

Your face is also completely flushed with embarrassment. Reluctantly looking around the room, the people are giggling and whispering about you. Some of them look towards Geto waiting for his reaction. Your heart starts to thump harshly in your chest.

You place your hands behind you on the floor to get up. This is too much. What kind of kiss was that anyways? Why would he embarrass you in front of everyone?

Before you’re able to get up from your spot, Suguru wraps his hand around your wrist, and he holds you back towards him.

“Now, now, angel.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. Thinking Suguru is about to rip you a new one for kissing his boyfriend like that, you immediately start to apologize. “What you apologizing for, hm?” He asks as he leans in dangerously close to you. “I was just going to say that if Satoru gets a taste, then so do I.”

What kind of sick prank was this?

His dark eyes flicker down to your lips, and his other hand brushes your hair away from your face before he leans in and presses a softer - more sensual kiss. His lips are smooth and delicate; the complete opposite from Satoru��s.

You feel like you’re about to explode from embarrassment, so you pull away with a whiny huff. The brunette merely chuckles are your reaction. “I could still taste him on you.” He murmurs into your ear, making your heart skip a beat.

Your palms find your face as you’re literally trying to hide from the situation. Not that you can see, but the two men were literally just grinning at you, pleased with the mess they caused.

“Alright. That was fun.” Satoru announced, denoting the end of the game.

“Maybe for you.” A guy retorted with a halfway-annoyed laugh. You could hear people shuffling around, leaving the circle they were all sat in.

Slowly, your hands leave your face, and you see most people have went back to hanging out in their own social groups; however, Satoru and Suguru stuck by your side.

“Well, it seems she’ll share a kiss with both of us. I wonder what else she might do with both of us.” Suguru mused as he propped his head up with his hand. His elbow sat on his knee as he gazed at both you and Satoru with an enamored expression.

“I- We were playing a game!” You quickly go to defend your case, but Satoru is right there to also taunt you.

“Oh, so you’d only kiss one of us if we weren’t playing a game?” Satoru asks as he also leans into you, fluttering his long white eyelashes. “Sweets, if you wanted it to be just you and I, I could tell Suguru here to give us some space.”

“What-? No, that’s not what I…”

“So, you were open to kissing both of us.” Suguru cuts you off, not letting you refute or argue.

Your face is bright red as you feel your head spinning. Both of the men were matching each other’s energy, applying pressure to you. Their dominant personalities were making it hard for you to even get a word out.

“Please- stop.” You whisper quietly as you look down at your lap, practically folding in on yourself like a hermit crab who senses danger.

Suguru shoots Satoru a quick glance, and they seem to have a silent conversation between the two of them. The brunette is the first to speak up, gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey- it’s okay. We were just teasing.” He reassures you softly as he bends his head down to try to look in your eyes to show that he’s sincere.

Satoru gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re sorry, sweets. We didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“You’re not mad at me..?” You quietly ask the two of them as they’re both doting on you with physical affection to soothe your anxiety.

“Why would we be mad, angel?” Suguru asks softly. His hand is gently rubbing on your shoulder, lightly massaging you.

“Yeah, we kissed you. Why would we be mad?” Satoru pitches in as he carefully cards his fingers through your hair.

Your heart continues to flutter a bit. Having both men tend to you emotionally and physically was rather appealing.

“I kissed you two back, and you two are…” Your voice trails off as you don’t know what type of label to place on their relationship.

“Ohhh, she’s worried about us being jealous, Sugu.” Satoru grins as his hand pats the top of your head.

“Poor thing. Allow me to let you in on a little secret.” Suguru dips his head closer to your ear, and he drops his voice to a low whisper. “Neither of us care as long as we both get to have you.”

You must’ve misheard him. Is he really just openly offering a threesome between you, him, and Satoru?

“I don’t understand…” You quietly murmur, not daring to make eye contact with either of them right now.

“Yes, you do.” Satoru interjects as he sits up a little. His hand grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him. Bright blue eyes stare into your very essence. “I think we’ve made our intentions pretty clear here, sweets. We both want you. So, you can either follow us up to the bedroom, or we can all pretend this didn’t happen, and you can go back to your dorm and play with yourself to the thought of us.”

You’re sure that if these boys keep it up, you’ll have a heart attack at some point. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try to comprehend how Satoru could be so bold. You’re truly lucky that Suguru is there to balance him out.

“You don’t have to decide right now, angel. Satoru is a bit too impatient for his own good.” Suguru speaks lowly as his hand gently caresses your back. “You can make your mind up whenever you’d like. We just want to be clear in our intentions.”

“That you want to sleep with me?” You ask as your eyes dart over to Geto.

“You make it sound so bad, love.” Suguru responds as his eyes look over your face. “It’s not just sleeping with you. It’s making you feel good. It’s sharing you between us and watching you deteriorate into that little shy mess that you let us get a glimpse of earlier.”

Satoru pinches your cheek as he still has your face cupped. “It’s about seeing how much you can take and which one of us will fold first and fill you up.”

You press your thighs together as you feel your heartbeat in your cunt. How did they make sex sound so appealing? Not that you didn’t like sex, but you never had it described to you like that.

“You like what he’s saying, angel?” Suguru muses as he leans in close to your ear. His nose brushes against your hair gently, and his warm breath ghosts your skin. “It’s okay. You want us both to fill you up. We can give you that.” His voice is so soothing as if he’s speaking a lullaby to you. His large hands trails to your inner thigh. “You just gotta give us the word, love. We’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

*** *** ***

So, that’s how you ended up in Satoru’s massive bedroom upstairs while the party continued on upstairs.

Suguru’s lips were on yours, practically making love to your mouth as he ran his hand through your hair. The back of your knees hit Satoru’s king sized bed as the brunette was gently coaxing you there by taking small steps forward.

His boyfriend was watching the two of you with big eyes. His hand was absentmindedly palming himself through his jeans as he admired the way you submitted to Suguru so willingly.

“Sugu…” Satoru nearly whines. If it was just the two of them in the room alone, he would be already pouting, but he has a dominant role to uphold.

The brunette gently parts from the kiss leaving you a panting mess to look over at his cute boyfriend, eagerly palming himself like an animal who couldn’t help themselves. “Such an only child.” He remarks with a smirk. “Never learned how to share properly.”

“I want to kiss her too.” Satoru huffs as he approaches the two of you. Your eyes are glued on Satoru almost out of fear. Despite how whiny he could get, he was definitely the more rougher direct one.

“Be my guest, Toru.” Suguru hums as he gently nudges you onto the bed to where your bottom is on the edge. “I wanna kiss somewhere else anyways.” His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, and he tugs them off of you.

Satoru moves his upper body on top of yours while staying out of Suguru’s way. He’s slightly jealous that Geto is getting to taste you first, but he’s sure that he’ll get to feel you wrapped around him first. His hands pin yours above your head, and you squirm a bit, testing his grip.

“Think you can get away, sweets? Go ahead and try.” Satoru smirks as he doesn’t even have to try to hold you down. You’re no match for him, especially considering he’s a pro at contact sports.

Your squirming intensifies as Suguru’s fingers gently brush against your damp panties. “She already made a mess for us.” He muses to Satoru.

“What a slut.” The white-haired male grins before he finally gets what he came here for: a kiss. His lips devour yours in another steamy kiss as Geto starts rubbing small light circles against your clit with his thumb.

You’re completely at the mercy. Your body squirms around from the stimulation, but neither of the boys relent. Before you all went upstairs, Suguru made it clear that you had a safe word: crepe. If you uttered that word, both of them would completely stop whatever they were doing. Until then, you were fair game no matter how much you whimpered or squirmed.

The thought of it makes you try to press your thighs together as your cunt clenches around nothing, but Suguru forces your thighs apart. “Don’t hide your pretty cunt from me, angel. I don’t want to have to tie you down.”

Chills go up your spine from the thought, and you reluctantly stop trying to close your legs.

Satoru kisses bruisingly hard, gulping down each of your breaths and using your whimpers as a way to slip his tongue past your lips. His hand is still holding down both of your hands while his other starts to grope your breast.

Suguru presses chaste kisses to your core through your panties while still rubbing you. He hums with contentment as he watches your hips rise from the bed searching for more. He decides to indulge you for now, slowly sliding your panties down your legs.

“So pretty.” He murmurs as he gazes at your soaking wet cunt. His eyelids flutter shut before he leans in and ever so gently laps at your cunt, causing you to squeal into Satoru’s mouth.

The white-haired male finally relents in his kisses to gaze down at his boyfriend while he was leisurely indulging in your cunt like it was a gourmet meal. He bites back a moan as his dick is painfully hard, straining against his jeans. It’s nearly enough to make his head spin. He needs release — like now.

He unbuttons his pants before shrugging him off of him quickly. His cock has already leaked a small wet spot into his boxer briefs.

You’re too consumed with Geto’s tongue that you don’t even notice Satoru’s cock until he straddles your shoulders. Your eyes widen while looking at his size. His cock quite literally casts a shadow over your face with its massive size. His tip is an angry red color from neglect, and a bead of pre-cum sits upon the small slit.

“Oh sweets, you flatter me.” Satoru grins as he takes note of your facial expressions. The palm of his hand then gently pushes your forehead back, and he drags his length across your lips, smearing his pre-cum against your pretty mouth.

Satoru enjoys just gently rubbing his cock across your face as you give him pitiful glances and small whimpers. You try to take him into your mouth, but he won’t let you. He’s enjoying toying with you too much.

Meanwhile, Suguru is completely lost between your thighs. His jaw is almost sore from making out with your sloppy cunt, and that’s saying a lot considering he’s use to sucking dick. No matter, he continues alternating lapping at you and tongue-fucking your tight entrance. Each time his tongue thrusts inwards, he can’t help but think about how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his dick later.

Your hips try to shimmy away from him, and he takes it as a sign that you’re close. His hands grip onto your hips, preventing your escape, and his mouth then focuses strictly on your clit as he gently suckles on the small bundle of nerves.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp, and Satoru takes his chance to fill your mouth while you’re off guard. His cock immediately stuffs your mouth, muffling all of your sweet noises. Your eyes squint closed as you struggle not to immediately gag around him.

“Oh, come on. I know you can do better than that, sweets.” He taunts as he looks down at your poor struggling face. “You’re not even taking half of me.”

Your spit accumulates on his cock as he sits still for a moment, giving you just a mere second to prepare yourself. Then, he starts to rock his hips back and forth, fucking your pretty mouth while he holds you still.

“Look at me.” He demands with a small grunt.

Your eyes flutter open obediently to look up at him while he uses your throat to his heart’s content. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to spill. Cute.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up as you gush juices against Geto’s face and chin. Your eyes slip shut as it’s almost too much to handle. The brunette continues to drink you down as if you didn’t just cum.

Satoru’s hips continue to forcefully push himself deeper into your mouth. He hates that Suguru is getting all the attention!! He gets to kiss you first He gets to taste you first. Now, he’s getting to make you cum first!

Taking his frustrations out on your poor throat, Satoru doesn’t even realize that his orgasm is rapidly approaching him until it’s almost too late. “F-fuck.” He grunts as he presses your head down harder. His tip grazes the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him. The tears slip past your cheeks.

“Yeah, gag around me, slut. That’s what you get for letting him make you cum first.” He moans as his hips stutter. He then shoves himself as deep as your throat will around, and his cock pulses between your lips as he empties himself deep in your throat.

Your cry muffles around his length as he stays seated in the back of your throat until he’s a sensitive mess. Your hand quickly comes up and hits the side of his thigh with a small whine.

With a small chuckle, he slowly gets up off of your shoulders, and Suguru had finally ceased eating you out. Your body is so tired. Taking a moment to rest in Satoru’s bed with your eyes closed, you hear clothes shuffling around.

You assumed they were maybe getting back dressed, but no, you were sorely mistaken.

“C’mere, angel. Let me hold you.” Suguru whispers softly as he crawls behind you onto the bed. Your eyes flutter open to see him completely naked, patting his lap for you.

He is (thankfully) not a big as Satoru is, but his cock is definitely fatter. You swallow harshly as your eyes wander his body.

“Listen to him, sweets.” Satoru snaps your mind back to reality as his hand gently swats at your thigh.

You slowly crawl up onto Suguru’s lap, and he turns you facing away from him. Your back lies flush against his chest. “I’ll be gentle with you. Don’t worry,” He hums softly as he pulls your shirt and bra off of you, finally discarding those pesky items.

His hand carefully adjusts his cock right between your thighs, fitting snuggly between your warm wet folds. “Mmm, feel good, angel?” He asks as his body lightly shudders from the feeling.

You weakly nod your head, and Geto starts to slowly rock his hips back and forth, coating his inches in your slick.

Satoru climbed next to you two, and he cuddles into your side before lazily catching one of your nipples into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as he gently suckles on the sensitive bud. His hand is gently playing and rubbing on your other.

“Mnnph~ fuck..” You whimper as you lean your head back against Suguru’s shoulder. His hips continue to rock behind you, spreading your slick all over your thighs.

“Wanna see something.. ah~.. fun, angel?” Suguru asks quietly as he gently takes your hand. He slowly guides you to grabbing onto Satoru’s hair, which elicits a small whine out of him.

His blue eyes flutter open as he looks up at you pitifully while swirling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves. It seems as though he has a weak spot - his hair being pulled.

You can barely concentrate from the movement of Suguru’s hips when he makes you pull Satoru’s hair again only harder this time. The white-haired male moans around your nipple, adding vibrations to the mix of stimulation.

“Look at me, pretty boy.” Geto purrs at his boyfriend. Satoru’s eyes look up towards both yours and Geto’s faces. His eyebrows are pinched together, and he doesn’t dare stop suckling on the soft bud.

Suguru reaches down with his other hand, and he adjusts his cock right against your warm entrance. His tip bumps against the ring of muscle, causing you to whine from the sensation.

“Gonna prep her for you, okay?” Suguru mumbles to his boyfriend. The white-haired male immediately pulls away from your breast with a soft ‘pop’ noise.

“Wait no, I wann-“ Satoru’s words are futile as Suguru pushes into you with a loud groan. His head falls back against the pillow behind him. Your hands grab at the sheets with a whine as you squeeze your eyes shut. It feels like he’s trying to split you into two with his fat cock.

“Mmnn.. so, so tight.” He grunts, obviously provoking Satoru more. “Feels so good.” He adds while his hips shallowly move, pushing his tip in and out. The tight wet muscle envelopes him each time with a squelching noise.

Satoru’s eyes are as big as saucers as he watches Suguru barely pump into you. The sight of your cunt struggling to fit him and dripping juices all along his length makes him feel feral.

A huff escapes his lips as he shifts his face between your legs. “I wanted to stretch her.” He furrows his eyebrows in slight jealousy.

“Too bad. You’re just going to have to… ngh~.. watch me do it.” Suguru retorts as he pushed a couple inches deeper, allowing your gummy walls to squeeze around him.

“Oh f-fuck..! s’too much-“ You cry as your hips start to tremble. The pressure from his cock pushing deeper causes you to arch your back away from the brunette.

“Angel, I’m barely even in yet. You can do better than that.” Geto tsks disapprovingly. His hands wrap around your hips to hold them still. “Help her out, Satoru.”

The white-haired male looked up at your scrunched face as white hot pleasure and pain course through you, and he actually takes a little bit of pity on you… or maybe he just really wants a taste. Either way, he drags his tongue up Suguru’s length, licking your juices off his boyfriend. He continues to lick upward until his tongue presses against your clit.

You choke out a moan as you’re struggling to keep control over your body. It’s all so much. Your poor cunt squeezes around Suguru as Satoru continues to lap at you. As soon as you begin to adjust, Suguru pushes all the way into you, down to the hilt.

“Fuuuuck~ so good.” He groans as you clench around him so deliciously. Your juices mixing with Satoru’s saliva make it absolutely messy. The wet smacking noises fill the room as Suguru wastes no more time fucking himself into you.

Satoru’s tongue continually switches from focusing on your clit and licking up your juices from the base of Geto’s cock. He hums in pleasure as he pitifully grinds his painfully hard length into the mattress, desperate for any sort of friction.

“Sh-shit-! Satoruu~” You drawl as your hand finds his hair, but he quickly pins your wrist down, not letting you force him to submit again.

“She’s weepin’ for me, Suguru.” Satoru taunts with a hint of pride.

The brunette is lost in his own deep thrusts. He can feel his balls tightening, signaling how close he was. “Yeah? Get in here then. Make her feel good.” Suguru instructs as he pulls himself out of your wet heat, mostly to prevent himself from finishing too quickly.

You immediately whine in protest from the empty feeling, causing both of the men to chuckle at you. “Such a slut. Just needing something to fill you up, hm? You don’t care which one of us it is.” Satoru is back to his degradation as he sits up on his knees, scooting himself between both yours and Geto’s legs.

Suguru carefully tucks his cock back behind you, in between your soft pillowy cheeks. Satoru takes his opportunity and pressed himself against your entrance.

“Fuuck sweets, she’s cryin’ for me.” He groans as he bullies himself inside of you, immediately pushing all the way to the hilt, causing for you to let out a silent scream. His tip practically kisses your cervix, filling you fuller than you ever have been before. “Gotta give her what she wants.”

His thrusts were unlike Geto’s. He was rough, not giving you any time to adjust to his length before he starts pounding your pretty pussy. Your body jerks and squirms, but both of the men hold you down, making sure you can’t get away.

With each brutal thrust, your backside inadvertently grinds against Suguru’s already sensitive length. “Fuu- hnnngh~ my god.” The brunette whines behind you as his fingers dig into your hips.

You’re already a complete blabbering mess, getting completely fucked stupid in the head by the white-haired male. “Hah~… fuuuck, pleaasee.” You whimper, not even know what you’re begging for.

Satoru has your wrists pinned against Suguru’s shoulders while he slams into you. Sweat gathers on his forehead as he’s completely enamored by both yours and Geto’s spent faces. His mind plays tricks on him, convincing him that he’s miraculously fucking both of you right now.

“Whatcha beggin’ for, sweets?” He huffs as his hips push into yours, forcing your entire body up and down against his boyfriend. “Need both of us?”

Your eyes immediately widen, and you’re shaking your head quickly. “Ah, ah, I don’t hear the safe word. Suguru, I think she wants it.”

Geto pants and moans as he slowly pulls his hips back, allowing for his cock to slip between your legs. He’s painfully hard and sensitive too. “Think you can take b-both of us, angel?” He asks as he gently rubs his tip against your entrance that is already being filled by Satoru.

“N-no~! I-… I can’t.” You practically pleading as your legs are trembling from Satoru’s harsh abuse of your cunt.

“Shh, nonsense.” Suguru soothes as he brings his hand up to his mouth. He spits onto his hand and drags it along his length, lubricating himself so he can glide in. “You wanna be a good girl, don’t you?”

“Please. She’s not good for anything besides taking us.” Satoru interjects as he slowly pulls himself back until just his tip is inside, allowing Suguru the room to squeeze in.

“Poor angel, can’t even resist it, can you?” Geto mocks as he guides himself to your entrance. He slowly works his was inside. His cock was completely flush against Satoru’s, and your walls completely tighten around the both of them.

Tears fill your eyes as the pressure from both of them is almost too much. Your entire body tenses up, trying to cope with the feeling of being so full.

“Shhh, you gotta relax, darling.” Suguru murmurs into your ear. His hand reaches around and gently rubs small circles against your clit, coaxing your body to open up for them. “We’re gonna take good care of you. You need to trust us though.”

Satoru sits patiently, biting his inner cheek to prevent himself from moving. The tight feeling of your sopping cunt as well as Suguru’s cock smushed against his was nearly enough to throw him overboard. He gathers your hair carefully, and he gently moves it out of the way so he can kiss on your neck.

Suguru follows suit: kissing and biting gently on your opposite shoulder. Both of the men worked together to ease your body while Suguru slowly sunk in deeper and deeper, stretching you to your fullest. 

“Good girl..” The brunette quietly purrs in your ear. “Takin’ us both so well. Think you can take a little more?”

“Don’t call her that. This slut can barely fit us both.” Satoru grins as he wastes no more time. His hips start to roll back and forth, and his hands grabbed at the bottom of your thighs, lifting your legs up so they both could have better access.

Both of the men take turns pushing their cocks deep inside you, not giving you a single moment to rest or adjust. Your head was spinning, unable to form a coherent thought as your poor cunt was being taken by two at once.

Suguru’s clasp on your hips tightens as he rhythmically buries himself into you repeatedly. The feeling of your warm gummy walls combined with Satoru’s cock rubbing against his, creating a delicious friction was too much to handle.

“F-fuck.. I’m not gonna last too much longer.” He pants as he continues torturously rutting upwards into your sloppy wet entrance. “N-need to feel this.. mmmph.. this pussy up.”

Satoru growls lowly as he slows his pacing but makes each thrust count. Watching his boyfriend unravel underneath you was something he didn’t know he needed. He can feel himself getting close too.

But it was you who finished first. You couldn’t even warn them before your orgasm suddenly washed over you. Fluids gushed along both of them as your cunt spasmed and clenched around them.

“Did you just-“ Satoru looks down at where you two are connected to confirm it with his own eyes. “D-dirty girl, you just squirted on us.” He muses as his thrusts grow sloppier.

Suguru’s barely pumping into you before he tilts his head back. His adam’s apple bobs as he paints your insides white with a loud, needy groan.

Satoru’s legs are trembling as he keeps fucking himself into you. It’s so fucking wet from Suguru’s cum as well as your juices. The combined throbbing and clenching bring on dual sensations that have him spilling inside you as well.

“G-god fuck!” He tightens his grip on your wrists as he works his way through his orgasm.

The three of you stay in bed connected together while panting softly. The frat house is eerily quiet. Everyone must’ve went home.

“Are you alright, angel?” Suguru asks as his feather light touch grazes your tummy softly. “We didn’t hurt you, did we?”

“N-no… I’m okay.” You mutter weakly. “I don’t think I can walk back to my dorm though…”

“Good. You’re not leaving anyways.” Satoru declares with a playful smile before he snuggles into you and Suguru.

“He’s a bit clingy, but I agree. Stay here for tonight.” Suguru says, also wrapping his strong arms around you.

While the three of you slept peacefully in each other’s arms, your phone was blowing up with texts and calls from Ino who was worried sick when he showed up to the party, and you weren’t there. Oh well, you’ll just have to tell him in the morning.

[endearng]

Doomed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: If you and Spencer had a nickel every time someone teased you after witnessing your interactions, you'd have two nickels, which isn't much — but it's weird that it happened twice. WC: 4.4k Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I'm so obsessed with them... in a normal amount of course. I'm thinking about writing casually for them, who knows... Also,,,, who am I if not a morcia truther….. I hope you enjoy it! Feedbacks are always appreciated <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

You were doomed from the moment he bid you goodbye.

"So, who's he?" Victoria inquired, a sly smirk on her face and a bashful expression on yours.

"Who's who?" You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

She groaned playfully, "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't." You winked, sitting on your couch again, between the two women. Sex and the City was playing on the TV across from the three of you.

"You're acting like us as freshmen when the seniors looked at us—" she retorted.

"I thought we didn't talk about that," Jude deadpanned.

"You're 'I don't know what you're talking about' me? I thought we were friends!" Victoria poked you in the rib.

"Ouch! He's just a friendly neighbor, that's it." You said, trying to cut the subject. Jude looked at you suspiciously. "White wine time."

From Spencer's apartment, he could hear the sound of chatter, joyful laughter and opening bottles for the rest of the night. He didn't know how to feel by your invitation, now that he had calmed down after looking you in the eye for a moment, technically, all by yourselves. He would definitely feel inappropriate at a kid's birthday where he barely knew the people who invited him, but he thought that Olivia's gesture was amazingly endearing. What could possibly be more childishly adorable than an infant trying to help and making a 'mistake'? And what could possibly be more devastatingly endearing than a mother taking advantage of said mistake to make it right?

Spencer studied the card for a moment. It fit the palm of his hand, tiny and delicate. It had a different address from yours and the time of the party, all of it lovely handwritten, just like the letters from calligraphy practice notebooks. It seemed like Olivia put a lot of effort in trying to perfect her handiwork. It read:

Hey, it's Oli!

I'm turning six and I want to celebrate it with you!

The contents of the slip of paper were adorned by dainty drawings related to birthdays: party hats, cake, gifts, some decoration and so on. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually becoming closer to the people he always thought lived a perfect life. His mind had a tendency to wander and, for a fleeting moment, he thought about what it would be like to be part of that perfect life.

Olivia was a perfectionist child. He saw the expected behavior of the age in her manners, but the care with her work almost made him think someone else had done it for her. Something told him it wasn't the case, though.

Secured by two magnets, he placed Olivia's birthday party invitation on his fridge. You know, just so he wouldn't forget it — he tried to convince himself.

Everybody knew about his otherworldly memory, but he decided to forget it purposefully.

"Good morning, good ghost. I didn't see you anymore." Olivia greeted as she saw Spencer in front of the elevator. You were just locking your door closed, hyping yourself up for the week ahead of you when you heard it and a shiver ran down your spine. This, whatever it was, was getting out of hand.

"Good morning, Miss Olivia!" He said, a sweet tone of voice. You melted. "It's true. It's been a while. I was here on the weekend, but it seemed like you had other plans." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She did it in a heartbeat.

"I was with my grandma and grandpa. They took me to the movies and grandpa made me lasagna." She explained as you approached them, adjusting your bag and Olivia's backpack in each of your arms. "Did'ya get my birthday party invitation?"

"Yes, I did! Thank you for inviting me. But, you know, your mother probably needed the rest of them for the other guests." He said as the elevator opened. He gestured for you to enter it first, so you did it with a grateful nod.

"Sorry, mommy. I didn't mean it." Olivia looked at you briefly, ashamed that you would call her out.

"I know, baby, 's okay. Everyone has one now." You assured her with a light tone. Breathe. "Hi, Spencer. Good morning." You said as he joined you in the elevator.

He breathed out, "Good morning. Hi." He had a big smile on his face, standing right next to you, you both facing the door and Olivia in front of you. Internally, he felt like a puppy who had his owners’ undivided attention.

Olivia pressed the button to the lobby. You noticed a book in his hands. Courage. "So, what are you reading, Spencer?"

He gulped. Were you talking to him? It took him a moment to get a grip and realize that he hadn't answered you. Struggling to find the words and suddenly unable to remember what he was actually reading. "Me? I'm just re-reading one of Dostoievski's books. Notes from Underground."

"Dosto-what?" Olivia chipped in.

You looked at her, ready to tell her to not interrupt someone, but couldn't stop yourself from giggling. Spencer watched it fondly. "It's Dostoievski, baby. D'you remember that one book with the 'ugly' cover that mommy was reading the other day?" You asked her, air quoting the word 'ugly'. “It wasn’t ugly. It just wasn’t pink.” You explained it, looking at Spencer. He grinned.

"Yeah. You didn't read to me because it was work." She said, getting distracted with one of her braids.

"Are you a teacher?" He asked, intrigued.

"No. I actually work for a publishing company. Sometimes I have interesting content to revise." You said, a tinge of irony in your voice. He smiled at you, feeling comfortable enough to joke around him without the awkwardness of that first encounter.

The elevator door opened. Olivia jumped out. "I bet it's interesting," was the best he could come up with. Tongue tied.

“Yeah. It’s a good book.”

Like a fucking teenager, he watched as you left with your daughter. Your mixed laughter echoing in the lobby as Olivia spinned around while you carried the weight all by yourself.

He scolded himself for not remembering to offer you help.

Two days later, a few states over, Spencer sat on a chair at the conference room of the precinct they were working with. The case was exhausting and he just wanted it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. He waited for Derek Morgan — he was his ride that night back to the hotel they were crashing on. He was in front of Derek as he and Penelope talked, her image on the computer screen. The man's nonchalant tone was a riddle for her to unsolve — everyone else was aware that there was definitely something between them (an unspoken dictionary worth of words), even if their interactions were deemed as jokes. Penelope, feeling very shy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her lap after a particular comment about her smile. As she did so, her eyes caught a glance of her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go," she murmured, relieved to have a way out of the exchange that had high chances of turning her into a nervous wreck. "I'm so sorry, handsome! Tomorrow is one of my friend's daughter's birthday."

A flash of disappointment crossed Derek's features. Not that she'd noticed. Instead of pressing her, he chose to say, "Need extra energy to keep up with the kids, babygirl?" Ah, there was it. The teasing tone. She was definitely imagining things.

"Not as much as I need to keep up with you, tiger," she replied with a wink, the dynamic between them quickly shifting back to the usual playful banter. Both of them wanted more than playful and far more than banter, but none of them had the courage to admit it, to be straightforward about it. Spencer understood it, really. Speaking made things too real. "But, seriously. I totally forgot to pick up her gift. Olivia loves reading, so I'll go to the mall. I'm glad I already bought it, so I won't get home late."

If he was a dog, Spencer's ears would have definitely perked up from how quickly he associated one thing to another. Could it be the same Olivia? Your Olivia? "Okay, mama. Be safe." Derek said.

"I will," she smiled as she hung up.

Idiots.

Maybe Derek was too serious about the "no profiling each other" rule they set.

"Let’s go, pretty boy," The dark-skinned agent stated. Spencer got up, grabbed his bag and made his way to the elevator with her.

As they chatted about nothing in particular, walking out of the precinct, he desperately wanted to ask him if she truly didn't see past Penelope's sudden shyness. It wasn't in his nature to do that, of course, but as Derek and Penelope were two of the most important people in his life, he wondered why wouldn't they be a thing by now, since they enjoyed themselves so much and were so open about their affections towards one another.

He was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke up, “So, what's your deal lately, Reid? What's she like?"

The doctor choked on his own saliva, which made him cough like crazy. Derek laughed, but tried to help his panicked friend. "What was that, man?" he asked worriedly, once he saw Spencer had finally inhaled a gulp of air.

Face as red as a tomato, cough dying in his throat, "what was what?" Derek returned to his normal self once he noticed his friend was able to finally form a coherent sentence.

"You're gonna act dumb now that you almost died when I talked about her?" Derek questioned, teasing tone, "it was just a lucky guess, but I see you, Reid. You're daydreaming far too often for what's acceptable for the boy genius who's as focused as a laser beam."

Spencer looked straight ahead as they got to the exit. He should have cornered Derek first. "Why would you think it has anything to do with a 'her'?" He chuckled, nervous to be caught red-handed — even if he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Was it wrong to want? He felt like it was. All his life, really. Had no chance to want anything because either was a far too distant reality, person, happiness for him to grasp it or it was ripped away from him too soon, before he could even acknowledge what was happening inside him. That's why want was almost a foreign sensation for Spencer. He had been deprived of it for as long as he could remember.

"Because people get a little dumb when they're in love. At least, ordinary people do. Apparently, so do geniuses," he snickered, his mind also set on teasing Spencer.

Maybe it was dumb to reveal his secret, jaw dropping crush on his cute neighbor, but he wanted some sort of relief to that mess of tangled thoughts inside his head and the strange, to say the least, feelings brewing on his chest whenever he saw you. You barely knew each other. But he supposed it was yet another part of the want he wasn’t familiar with: it didn't need much and it took all consciousness out the door. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever he was on the field, especially since he was often facing danger. The way the events were unfolding were scarily similar to his cases: he noticed you, made up theories based on your behavior and routine, and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to approach you. Not to put you away, but for more personal reasons.

What was different was the feeling in his heart, instead of the sensation of being squeezed painfully inside his ribcage, often leading to ragged breathing, now felt like it was being held delicately by a pair of caring, dainty hands. Either way, his heart was fighting in the frontline and relied on the other part to be calmed and saved. The least he could do was try to be careful, finally opting not saying anything to Derek.

"Just a lot on my mind lately," he chose to say, instead. Derek dropped the subject, too tired to press it further.

Olivia's party had come to an end an hour ago. You got to see old friends and talked until they got every single ounce of information about your life lately and so did you about theirs. Your daughter had enjoyed her party greatly, and hugged every. single. person. who came to wish her happy birthday and thanked them for being there. She paid little attention to the gifts, too focused on spending time with her friends, playing with them until the sugar rush wore off — all of them had a massive candy intake that day. You didn't spend much time with her, but she promised you that she would unwrap her gifts the next morning with you, the most adorable toothless grin on her face.

Despite everything flowing accordingly, all day long, your stomach churned with anticipation. You wondered if Olivia's dad would show up, since the day she was born was, quote, the happiest of his life. His parents did, and when you looked at them anxiously, his mother shot you a neutral glance. Not a word from his end was its meaning. Your daughter never asked anything about him during the day, which made you even more jittery. You feared she would have a breakdown at any time, so you paid extra attention to her.

It never came.

You had missed the deadline of a book chapter that you had to revise, too caught up on trying to balance everything in your life, so your parents told you they'd stay with her so you could go home to work and take her in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't accept it, but your father had decided you were too tired to wake her to go home, so you complied. Right after the guests left, you did all the steps of her night routine, except for the bedtime story — she was that tired of all the running around in the backyard. You were sure she would sleep all night long.

Once she dozed off, you stood for a moment in her grand-bedroom (she had come up with that and it kind of stuck with you). Your parents had decorated it while you were still pregnant. She needs to feel at home, was what your mother said when you walked in on them assembling her crib. You almost cried, overwhelmed with joy. Your fiancé, then, had rolled up his sleeves to help out. Oh, the irony.

Her room was full of photographs that held many memories of her six years of life. You could never imagine that you could love this much, let alone dedicate yourself so entirely to someone like you did for her. Even though it was hard and you often didn't feel like you were enough to raise her on your own, Olivia was a wonderful child and her gestures and overall behavior assured you you were doing a good job. The reflection brought tears to your eyes. You drove home by yourself.

Currently, in your apartment, it felt a little too big without Olivia in there — too many books, too many chairs, too much space on your sofa, too many toys scattered around with nobody to play with them. You sighed, deciding on going to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea — you felt like your brain was hammering inside your skull and you still needed to spend time in front of a computer screen. Going back to your small office to wallow in self pity and second guess yourself even as you read whatever material it was, you heard a knock on the door.

You checked your watch. 9p.m. On a Saturday.

Weird.

Through the peephole, you saw someone you truly weren't expecting. "Spencer?" You asked as you opened the door, surprise filling your being. "I didn't think you'd come, I supposed you were at work. I mean, sometimes it feels like you barely have a routine, heh. But, um, thanks for dropping by." You said, a little unfiltered. Not even five seconds in his presence and you were already making a fool of yourself in front of him.

He held a small bouquet of flowers in one of his hands and a gift in the other. To a stranger's eye, it seemed like he had missed your birthday and was trying to apologize for it. You blushed at the thought. He shut his eyes, sorry crossing his features. "I know. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I really didn't want to. You were right, I was away on a case." You smiled, dismissing his apologies and soothing his worries once you did so.

"It's alright with me. She was totally expecting you, though. Kept asking where you were for the first hour. Then she got distracted with candy," you told him, "so she's the one you're gonna need to apologize to." You joked.

"T—that's why I'm here."

"I'm just not sure if Olivia is old enough to get flowers," you said, face serious. His eyes went wide and it took him a moment to understand, but once he looked at your serious expression cracking, his shoulders shook with laughter, with you. If you had more attention, you'd seen the moment his ears turned red.

Your laughter died down. A beat of silence. "These are actually for you." He revealed.

You were stunned. "Oh," you said, suddenly at a loss of words. "Thank you so much."

He gave you the flowers and you gracefully accepted. You were mesmerized by them; colors swimming in harmony before your eyes and the scent making you feel dizzy. Maybe not the scent, but the emotions you were feeling with the surprise. He went out of his way to get you those flowers ��� it's safe to say that it had been a while since you felt that way. "I—I have no words, Spencer. Really. Thank you so much," your voice choked.

You looked at each other for a brief moment. You tried to show how much you appreciated his gesture. You grinned, trying to get out of that haze, "Do you want to come in? Oli's with my parents, so you won't be able to apologize today," you quipped, making room for him to enter.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"You can place the giftbox on the coffee table." He went inside, toeing off his shoes in the small space you had before the living room. Once he was there, he saw you enter the kitchen to find a vase. He could see you from where he stood. "Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? I have Earl Gray."

Your voice was distant as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, I'd like it." He murmured as he looked around. Your walls were a light gray, adorned with pictures of you and Olivia, some people he assumed were some of your friends. The wall behind the sofa was entirely covered by a big bookshelf that went from one end to the other, filled with books and souvenirs from basically everywhere. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light walls in a cozy way, some toys and kids books scattered around the floor. The apartment smelled like fresh printed sheets of paper and earl gray tea. You had a few indoor plants that looked well taken care of. Spencer was admiring your degree from Stanford, which hung on the wall beside the TV, almost close to the door.

"One of my biggest achievements. Besides Olivia, of course," you approached him with his mug of tea. Turning to you, he noticed through his peripheral vision that you had placed the flowers inside a vase and in your coffee table.

"Thanks," he said.

"So... are you okay?"

The question caught him off guard. What?

You smiled a little. "You always look kinda tired when I see you," you said, not thinking about how your words might be interpreted. Your eyes widened, realizing it. "I mean, no! Sorry! You're still pretty, don't worry. It's just— I asked because you might be going through something. Forget I said anything about your looks."

He would definitely never forget.

Spencer laughed, flustered, eyes softly gazing at you while you rambled like a madman. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Sometimes my job is a little demanding and I'm forced to see some things that usually people don't even think exist," he confessed.

You bit your lip. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," he retorted, "I have a great team to work with."

"I'm glad to hear that. Sorry I brought it up, you probably don't want to talk about work right now." You said, sipping on your tea.

"Yeah, you're right, again," he chuckled. "How was Olivia's birthday?" He tried a change of subject.

"That was actually the reason I was moping when you got here," you said, trying to force a chuckle. "It was nice, I guess. I was just on edge all day trying to anticipate her emotions regarding her dad, but I guess they never came. At least, not today." You beckoned him to sit with you on the couch, now facing each other directly.

"May I ask why?" He asked, tentatively.

"Why what?"

More hesitance. "Why wasn't he there?"

"From what I know, he moved away." You said, tone unreadable.

He worried that he was overstepping and wasn't sure that he would like to hear more about it. He was scared to find out unpleasant news, such as you still had feelings for him. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster.

"Don't be. I have a great team," you repeated his words from earlier and he smiled at you.

His brain and tongue didn't seem to be working together that night, he was so avid to know more. "Did you always have support?"

"My parents didn't like the idea of having a single mother when they first heard it. It hit me hard back then, but then I realized it was better to be alone than to stay in an unhappy relationship, especially since Olivia was already in the picture." You said, setting your own mug on the coffee table.

"What happened?" Stop it.

He couldn't help it, he was too curious. It was his first opportunity to truly know the novel sort of family that you had. Apparently, not so much.

"He was distant before leaving. Someone else, maybe?" You asked, rhetorically, a crease between your eyebrows. "I never found out, but I don't want or need to, either. His parents absolutely love Olivia and they were there today, 's all that matters."

"You’re a very strong person."

"I have to be," you said, softly. "You’re a very good listener."

A rush of courage running through his veins. Deciding on not taking the road of unsaid things, like his friends were earlier. Don’t dance around the subject, take the opportunity. Dare. "And you're just as pretty."

The world stopped. You looked at him in disbelief. It didn't last much. A knock on your door. Scratch that: someone banging on your door.

You pinched your eyebrows together. Spencer stood up, almost as if he was doing something wrong. You looked at him, apologizing, "I'm not expecting anyone."

You walked to the door and he stood behind you, telling you he was going to let you be. You didn't want to and you were already chastising yourself from not trying to talk to him and focusing on your problems instead. You opened the door and in the threshold stood Penelope Garcia, gift basket in hands. Before you could speak, both of your guests spoke at the same time.

A mortified "Garcia?" from Spencer.

A surprised "Spencer?" from Penelope.

Finally, a confused "Do you know each other?" from you.

"Yeah. We work together." Spencer replied. "What are you doing here, Penelope?"

"What are you doing here, boygenius?" Her tone now was teasing, a cheshire grin on her face. You were acting confused, but you were loving to see Spencer so out of place.

"I... I was..." He trailed off.

Poor thing. "He came to drop Olivia's gift. We're neighbors." You explained, trying to save him from further embarrassment.

She glanced between you two, eyes full of mirth behind her glasses. "I'm here to do the same." She said, smiling as she handed you the basket, which you took carefully and thanked her with a side hug. "There's her present, sweetcheeks. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, you know how much I miss you and Olivia. But I'm sure our genius told you all about it." Her sentimental words truly held emotion, but she turned her attention to Spencer once again. The opportunity was too good to let go.

Spencer looked like a fish out of water. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. "Garcia, can we talk?" He asked abruptly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured in a much more soft tone to you.

He could never resume whatever was going on in there because he felt like he had been caught with his pants down.

You were so surprised you didn't even process what was your answer, forgetting to ask if Penelope wanted to come in or anything. "I—Okay. I'll see you, then." With a small smile and slight disappointment in your voice. He all but dashed out of your apartment and took Garcia, who had a mischievous expression on her face, with him. You closed your door and looked at the mix of flowers. A sigh escaped you. Damn, Garcia.

Spencer was escorting Penelope back to her car, ready to bury himself alive because he knew she would run her mouth and knew precisely to whom she would tell about it. And, of course, the endless jokes he would hear during the next few days. "Sooooo..." She trailed off, suggestively.

"I—don't want to talk." She opened her mouth, but had no success in talking. "Not. A. Word."

She entered her car and started the engine as he waited for her to go. But before she started driving, she yelled, "I knew you had it in you, Reid."

From your balcony, work long forgotten, you watched Spencer hide his face in his hands in utter embarrassment.

You were doomed.

[cupidkenji]

Gnaw

Now Playing: Gnaw - Alex G everything I knew was looking just as it should Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!reader CW: smut, oral (r receiving), choking but not in a freaky way he literally chokes reader to get them unconscious (no somno), kidnapping kind of (he takes them back to their house), knifeplay 💀, restraints being used (reader's wrists are tied), noncon technically but again mentally reader is into it, toxic ex bf, he's really whipped tho, minor bloodplay, undertones of sadism, lokey father figure vibes from Nam gyu (i'm so sorry), probably kind of OOC, university AU Summary: After that night, you ran. You should know by now you can never get far from him. Disclaimer: Reader is always thought of to be chubby/bigger when writing but I do my best to not physically describe reader at all with stuff like skin tone or body type. Anyone can read this as reader is not depicted but if there's a slip up please let me know. <3 WC: 3.7k (again) this is a part 2! read part 1 here.

the worms are eating away at my brain i am going crazy. please for this story just imagine you have one of those bed frames that are individual bars w space in between them instead of like one solid thing. also i really need to start writing these earlier in the day so i have the energy to proof read them. i'm sorry for my sins have mercy on me.

The sunlight seared through a pair of shitty motel curtains, attempting to penetrate your shut eyelids. It was the sixth day you were waking up in a scratchy bed on the run down side of your already dirty town. It was the sixth day you would spend missing him. 

You knew it was wrong, immoral to even think of returning to the man who had done such a thing. Who was clearly at a place in his life where he could do such a thing. Even through all the intellectualizing of his actions, the pleading you did with yourself to be disgusted, you weren’t. You knew it the second he cleaned you up and went to sleep, and it was terrifying, so you ran. As soon as you were sober, you ran to the only sanctuary you could afford as a college student who was also renting an apartment and a vehicle. You had already overstayed your welcome, knowing that the six days would cost you more than you wanted to shell out. You didn’t know how long you planned to be gone, originally fleeing the scene to be able to think. It was only proving more difficult as the days ticked on. You’d come all the way out here to talk yourself into hating him, only to carve out an even bigger space within yourself that he was to occupy. You missed him. The more you thought about it, the more apparent it became, and that just pushed you to stay longer. To wait out the bruising feeling eating at you the more you forced yourself away. 

You skipped class, not daring to step foot on campus lest he be waiting for her. The thought made your head fizz, a horrified and excited feeling mingling as they wrapped around the nerves in your stomach. Just the possibility of seeing him overwhelmed you, but you were simultaneously sick from the distance. You were sick of your surroundings, too. The walls were gray and stained, and you feared the hygiene status of the bed you were sleeping in. You hadn’t had much time to pack when you’d left, grabbing miscellaneous clothing that had yet to be put away and shoving it in a backpack. You hadn’t brought a blanket or a pillow, something you regretted. The suffocating nature of the beige room prompted the nightly walks you’d been taking. It was a bearable temperature, and the full perimeter of the building provided a decent amount of ground to cover. You hadn’t grabbed a charger, leaving your phone dead and you bored. Without any artificial stimulation to occupy your head, you took notice of the normally unnoticeable aspects of such a place. There were bits of a wired fence on the right side of the parking lot, the few lamps that lit the outside up had security cameras on them that didn’t work. You couldn't sleep one night, so you’d gone to look at them, finding that when the cords reached the end of the pole, they’d been haphazardly cut. It looked rushed and frayed, like a child had done it with safety scissors. It was deceiving, truly. There was no safety in an already dim parking lot. 

On tonight’s walk, you mulled over the date you’d return by. You still needed to graduate, and realistically, you couldn’t avoid your life forever. You were getting progressively more tired, sleeping less each night you stayed, missing the comfort of your own bed. The ground was uneven and cracked under your shoes, reminding you of the gray, crumbling building you were supposed to retrieve your roommate from. Reminding you of him, how stupid all of this was. There was a familiar smell in the air as you rounded a corner, nearly back to your room. It was distinct, heady and musky, as if you were back on that street and looking up at the flowing smoke again. You did your usual observation of the desolate asphalt full of empty parking spots.

And what the fuck were the odds?

He was already looking at you, the end of his cigarette glowing orange as he took a drag, like a sniper taking aim. He was a mere silhouette being poorly lit up by a streetlight that barely worked, but you knew. It was this feeling of magnetism, the same way he knew exactly who he was looking at, you felt the world around you melt, the air around you became irrelevant as your eyes locked on him. There was another man there, leaning against the hood of his car with Nam gyu right next to him, taking no notice of you as he spoke. You couldn’t make out his words with how far away you were. The man you’d been avoiding making little sounds of acknowledgement while being completely trained on you, posture relaxed and comfortable. He found you.

His friend nudged him, mumbling something and standing up. The both of them walked back into what was presumably the man’s room after snuffing out what they were smoking. You didn’t even register your legs beelining for your room. You threw whatever you had into the backpack you’d brought. You needed to get the fuck out of here. It was an unfathomably cruel move from whatever higher power was in charge of this situation. The two of you were being forced together like sand and water. He was everywhere, no matter where you were he would inevitably catch up. Maybe it took him three months the first time, but clearly he was done waiting. You rushed the check out process, not knowing how long his friend would keep him occupied now that he knew you were here. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. The thought made your stomach twist, but still, you needed to go. Your car seemed like an endless walk from the front doors, parked in the corner closest to your room, dark and unsuspecting. In such an empty place, you didn’t want your car to sit illuminated, as if advertised. This motel had a reputation, and you wanted to keep your means of travel safe. 

Your hands shook slightly as you hit the unlock button on your keys, yanking the handle to the backseat and throwing your bag somewhere in the back. It was just clothes, you didn’t care if it rolled around or hit the floor during the commute to wherever you were going, you just cared about getting out. The slam of the back door shutting seemed louder than what was appropriate for such a bone-deep silence for this time of night. Opening the driver’s side, you barely had enough room to squeeze through before it was being shoved closed from behind you. On impulse, you tried to turn around, startled and drowning in adrenaline; but before you could, the crook of his right arm encompassed your neck, tightening like a snake who was readying the prey for consumption. Your hands shot up, grasping his forearm with a futile grip, as if you could will his arm away from you. The pressure on your windpipe was bleeding black into the edges of your sight, static mingling with your hearing as your head got lighter. You could hear quiet shushes and reassurances coming from the man behind you, as though talking a child back into sleep after a nightmare. You dug your nails into the fabric of his sweatshirt as a weak sob barreled out of your mouth. He only pushed a little harder, pulling you into him. The proximity comforted you despite his actions, and you used the last little bit of energy you had to condemn yourself, body going limp against him after the last internal inquiry of what the fuck was wrong with you. He had also noticed the camera situation, knowing that his actions would go undocumented in the empty little place. He walked you over the passenger seat, hauling you in and buckling you up like a kid in a car seat. He started the route to your house, it was a Friday, your roommate would surely be out. He knew she was barely ever at the house, after staying there on and off for two years, he thinks he could probably count how many times he saw her sleep there on one hand. It wasn’t a long drive, twenty minutes or so, and you’d be home.

–

The normally disarming lamplight of your bedroom reeled in your consciousness from the void it had been thrown to. It didn’t feel particularly calming - not now. Your head was on your pillow, a focused Nam gyu diligently knotting a rope around your wrists, bundling them together and lacing the restraint through your headboard. Your neck felt bruised, sore and pulsing with a light pain as the blood rushed to your head. Your legs tensed on instinct, noticing the motion was not detained. He hadn’t tied your legs. You tugged once at the rope, testing the endurance just as much as you were testing your own strength. Your muscles felt nearly atrophied, the action making an ache ricochet through the oxygen-depleted muscles. Your whole body felt tired, heavy. Your exhale was shaky, slowly deflating from your lungs as if your body was made of stone. 

“Oh, good.” He double checked the knot, tugging once to solidify it’s hold on you before standing up to look down on you. “I didn’t know how long you’d be out.” He sounded so casual, as if instead of choking you unconscious and dragging you home, he’d simply carried you in from the car after you’d fallen asleep in it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your voice was quiet and gravelly, like your throat was coated in sand. Your lip trembled at the feeling of being so close to him. God, you were like a fucking puppy; can’t even be away from him for a week without turning into a weird sentimental puddle upon seeing him again. “Please untie me.” Your eyes watered as you spoke. You’d barely been awake five minutes and you were on the brink of tears. Pathetic. 

His eyes flicked over your face at the sight of your eyes welling up, a little glint of something familiar sparking in them for just a moment. “I can’t.” He shrugged, imitating disappointment at the notion. “You keep running from me. How are we supposed to resolve this if you can’t even keep still?”

Resolve this. Your eyes closed at the words, attempting to stop the tears from spilling at the thought. You’d left him for a reason. It was repeated over and over in your head like a mantra. You had to stick to it even if you couldn’t remember what the desire to be away from him felt like. Even as your chest heaved slightly with panic, you hoped he wouldn’t move. You hoped he would keep talking just so you could hear his voice, be near him. It wasn’t a rational wish by any means, but you could feel the intensity of it in your fucking bones with how consuming it was. 

“I’m not a patient man, honey. I waited for so fucking long.” He leaned over your dormant frame, putting one knee on the bed and moving his other to mirror the motion, effectively pinning your hips down under his weight. “You know, it wasn’t even your roommate who wanted you there. She just left her phone unlocked, and I knew you’d show up if she asked.”

“What-” Your words halted in your throat as he drew a pocket knife from the pocket of his sweatshirt. Jesus.  “Please - you don’t understand-” 

“Relax.” The word was chuckled slightly as he cut you off, like the panic that shot through your eyes at the sight of the blade in his hands was unjustified, like you were being irrational. “I think I was too selfish that night, hm?” The look he was giving you felt like it could kill you if he really wanted it to. Intense and suffocating, full of excitement and devotion. “You clearly hadn’t been touched in months and I got ahead of myself.” He shook his head slightly as his eyes looked over you, your chest was moving quick and shallow as you breathed, stomach tensing as he lifted your shirt up just an inch, caressing the skin above the waistband with his thumb. It barely even seemed intentional, as if his hands subconsciously drew themselves to you, needed to be touching you. 

Any urge you had to respond kept dying before it could be expelled. What do you even say to a situation like this? He was so at ease, explaining himself like a truly remorseful lover would. To anyone who didn’t know his inflection, that’s where it would end;  but you were so in tune with him, you could hear the edge of entertainment that his words carried. Maybe he was sorry, maybe he just liked seeing you unsure.

“I’m gonna make it up to you.” Your breath stumbled as he said it, your wrists grating unconsciously against the confines. “But it hurt my feelings when you ran like that.” He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, emphasizing his words. “So I’m gonna hurt you a little, too.” You felt the point of the blade make contact with the skin that his thumb had been smoothing over minutes before. It was enough to make the first tear fall from the corner of your eye. There was no pressure, just the threat of his words ringing true. Even in this scenario out of most peoples’ nightmares, you still didn’t think he’d truly hurt you, not irreparably. He’d always had sadistic tendencies, you even sometimes - shamefully - thought about the potential that was undoubtedly lurking beneath the surface of his presentability. He could get mean sometimes, especially when he was high, but never like this. He was sober, you could see it in his eyes and the way he moved. He just wanted to do this, wanted to be in control. 

He could practically feel the mesh of emotion seeping from your veins, taking longer than necessary to talk just to watch you soak in it. “Just enough to teach you some manners, honey.” His thumb trailed a line of pure heat along your jaw. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably even like it, knowing you.” 

A weird feeling jolted through the active nerves in your stomach. It was such a direct callout, based in certainty that he carried in his voice. You felt caught, recalling all the times he most likely knew exactly what you were thinking. Another tear streamed down the side of your face. 

The steel in his hand glistened in the low light of your bedroom, the sharpness of it being dragged down the fabric of your shirt, severing the only semblance of modesty you had left; the material draping open and bearing your skin to him. You’d been practically ready for bed by the time you took your walk, foregoing any additional coverage underneath the shirt, leaving all of you vulnerable to the exploration of his eyes. He pushed the sagging cloth to hang more off your shoulders, grazing his hands over the naked parts of you. It was gentle, restrained, like he couldn’t bear the time it would take to touch all of you because he needed it that badly. 

You felt the sting of an opening wound a second later, a whimper barely fleeing your throat. It wasn’t deep, he didn’t push hard. His lips parted as the blood rose to the surface of the small cut, pooling within it and releasing a single drop to pour down the side of your stomach. Before it could gain traction, he smeared the runny crimson, letting the liquid coat the print of his thumb. His pupils dilated at the sight, his breath coming out shakier than he’d like as his blood seemed to thrum in his veins. 

Your face twisted at the feeling, molten lava pooling in your stomach and burning you from the inside out. You felt hot, immune responses and arousal both running rampant in your body. You’d never felt more awake. He lowered his head to your exposed collarbone, brutally reminiscent of the night that predated this one. “See? Not so bad.” He led his hand up to your mouth, palm skimming your side as he hovered his thumb above your sealed lips, muttering out a request to open your mouth for me and you did because he was inexplicably intoxicating. Your tongue was coated in bitter metal combining with the discreet and slight flavor of his skin. You felt dizzy. 

He mouthed down the expanse of your upper body, leaving patches of your skin shiny with his saliva and stinging from the occasional love bite he would leave. He marked his places of affection with small cuts, each one sending a wave of warmth lower and lower, fanning the flames down to where he would ultimately end up. He would kiss over each future scar he left on you, a bloody comparison to your relationship as a whole, his actions making your heart ache and your back arch. You had been trying your hardest to stay quiet, trembling exhales being the only thing you couldn’t suppress; but he had a way of wearing you down in the most pleasurable ways imaginable, gradually building you up to the whimpers that were slipping past your crumbling resolve. 

With caring hands, he pulled at the waistband of your pants, folding them out from under your hips and bending each of your legs forward to get them fully off of your legs, laying them back down once he had. The room felt colder than it ever had. He stared with pride at the state of your perpetually clenched thighs, groping at the tense muscles. “What’d I tell you, huh?” He tucked the blade of the knife under the seam of your underwear, pulling up and slicing clean through them. “I don’t know why you want out when you like it so much.” Cutting the other seam, he let the fabric slide off of you, discarding the shreds of useless hindrance and taking in the full sight of you. 

You didn’t know why you ran either. You did like it. You liked it so fucking much that it scared you. Maybe it was a fear of feeling good, or a fear of what this kind of connection would inevitably do to you, what kind of a man he was. You’d tried to leave him and ended up panting, wet skin glistening and covered in gashes; and the worst part was you liked it. How the fuck could you like something like this?

He left various other claims of territory on your thighs. Teeth marks, nicks from the knife, worshipping kisses of a man in love. Everything action committed against your wanting flesh had so much emotion laced in it that you could barely take it. You were overwhelmed, your brain half shut down, only stopping itself from going dark because then you wouldn’t be able to feel him, to accept what he was giving you. 

He pushed your thighs out of their locked state, soothing over the irritation littered on them with his thumbs and his lips, dulling the sting with an even greater ache that was bleeding directly into the center of you. You felt like he’d lit you on fire. 

The tip of his index finger scorched a line up the place you’d been anticipating, shamelessly gliding in copious arousal that had been pooling since you saw him leaning on the hood of that car. It was a touch that seemed to pump life back into you, invigorating and familiar. Something you missed so much that you were sure you’d never be able to fathom the depth of it. He cursed, quiet and breathy; and you groaned at the feeling of friction, even if it was just a little. 

His mouth on you was sudden, but not rushed; the spontaneity of it forcing a gasp from you. His actions were calculated, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you open, malleable and pinned. His hands were tense on your legs, fingers digging in tight as if he was struggling with his own internal grievances. You weren’t sure if it was restraint, or desperation, or something uncharted between the two of you. It was scary to think that something could be undefined right now, that maybe he was lost too. 

The warmth of his mouth on you after already having your body thoroughly overworked nearly knocked you unconscious for the second time that night. Your head was as thrown back as it could be given the state of your arms, chest reaching for the ceiling. Your poor wrists burned in the grit of the rope, but it only seemed to add to the peak you were being pushed to. He brought his index finger to sweep through the bountiful wetness in between your legs, this time pushing in and curling up, his second finger joining soon after. 

“Gyu - please -” The nickname was so domestic, something that hadn’t left your lips in months but seemed to feel as natural as breathing in this moment. The loving tone hit him like a wave, drawing a reflexive groan from his mouth. His eyes were practically black from how much his pupils encompassed the iris, his own eyes looking a little watery as a less extreme mimic of yours.

“Missed the way you taste.” The auditory affirmation paired with his fingers and his mouth sent you toppling. His fingers never let up, his mouth detaching to plant light kisses on the bone of your hip, looking up at your breathtaking form with an awestruck gaze that you couldn’t see through your closed eyes and tilted back head. 

You panted, thinking it was over. Maybe he’d fuck you, or maybe he would make you tea and the two of you would finally talk about things. He just moved his soaking fingers up to your clit, your body jumping slightly at the sensitivity. 

“Wait-” 

“Shh, just take it.” He spoke low and moved back to where he was, starting again when you had barely started coming down. His declaration of making it up to you rung in your ears. How long was long enough to be considered even? You writhed with overstimulation as you thought about it. Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? An hour? Your second orgasm hit you hard in the middle of your useless inquiries, and you realize it didn’t really matter.

You were in for a long fucking night regardless.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃❮𓁿❯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

tags: @mitsxuri @citarnosis @namgyunation (tagging you lovely folks because you all mentioned wanting more content. please let me know if you want your @ removed and i will do it ASAP <3)

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Mens with an S/o that always so happy and bubbly from the outside/public but at home they are actually tired and secretly crying in the bathroom while the shower is on so hoping that They wont hear the reader crying

I have been waiting to write this oh my gosh!! Love this idea, but just in case you're feeling like the reader, know it's okay to cry and if you ever need to talk to someone you're welcome to talk to me and I'll do the best I can to comfort you <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~All alone~༺}

CW: Angsty: Hidden emotions, crying, depression, some slight yelling in Xiaos and worried characters! Modern AU! (Pet names: Lyney: My love, Zhongli: Darling, Xiao: Flower, Kazuha: Honey, Neuvillette: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Xiao, and Kazuha!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyneys knuckles gently tapped against the wooden door of the bathroom, his voice sweet and filled with love "Mon amour, you alright? You've been in the shower awhile" ...although if you listened closely, you could hear the undertone of worries in his words. No matter how well you hid it in public, he could always sense you were off, he knew when smiles were genuine and yours rarely was anymore and no amount hiding in the bathroom could make your pain less noticeable to him.

Meanwhile you were on the other side of the door, knees pulled close to your chest and tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to breath in the mist filled room, the sound of the shower drowning out your soft sobs to the best of its abilities. You sniffled, trying to make your voice sound normal despite the emotions that were tugging at your throat, "Yeah honey! I'm fine! Just wanted to pamper myself a little!"

The magician sighed, slowly sinking to the floor... he wished so desperately you'd just let him in, let him lighten the burdens you were carrying, " Mon amour...I know that's not true. Please, let's talk.." You could barely hear him over your own mind screaming at you...worries and images of your issues dragging him down with you, drowning any ideas of actually accepting his offer to the bottom of your heart.

"I'm fine."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

You laughed out loud, others laughing along with you like everything was absolutely perfect...while Zhonglis yellow eyes saw otherwise, his gaze never leaving your sweet face. He could see it in your eyes, the way your laughter no longer sounded the same....the way you held yourself differently when others were around compare to when you were home alone with him. He just didn't understand why you weren't talking with him...why you were hiding your feelings.

Of course he wouldn't pressure you, he'd do his best to encourage you to lean on him...rest when you looked tired, do his best to show you how much he loved you, but it didn't seem to stop. You'd still disappear into the bathroom, shower running while he paced back and forth outside the door, wishing he knew more about human emotions, wishing he could just do...something.

"Darling, I'm here if you need me...I love you."

"Just taking a shower!....love you too!"

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao was panicking, all his life he'd never found love till he met you and now you were hurting in a way he didn't know how to solve. He thought you were happy, smiling and laughing like usual...but overtime he would notice that something had changed. You no longer laughed till you cried anymore and even when you seemed at your highest...you still had dark bags under your eyes, sadness clinging to your words.

Now he'd caught you crying behind a closed door, sobs barely audible over the sound of the shower running and breathing messy...uneven, you sounded like your heart was shattering. He couldn't stand hearing you sound so broken, standing there doing nothing to help you when one of the things he loved most was protecting you, so he teleported into the room..hoping you'd forgive the intrusion.

He was shocked at first, to see you curled up by the door crying, barely able to breath as you rocked back and fourth...he wanted to run to you, pull you into a tight hug, tell you he'd make it all okay if you asked, but he didn't want to startle you and make the situation worse, "Flower...I'm here...can I help?"

"Xiao?!? What a-are you doing in here!? G-get out!"

"I'm worried about you, you're hiding your emotions and pretending like your okay when you aren't...I just want to help you."

"You're not one t-to talk! You hide what you're f-feeling all the time! Just leave me alone!!"

"No, I'm not leaving here until I figure out what's going on. I haven't waited thousands of years to find love and let it slip away because I didn't offer comfort when I should have!"

You covered your ears and opened the door, "THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE WAITED L-LONGER!"

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha sighed, humming against the doorframe while he thought of your wonderful smile that always made his heart race...and your bubbly personality that contrasted so well with his calm collected one, but lately things hadn't had the same magical loving feeling they used to, even his poems barely made a glint in your eyes, you just seemed so put out. Even after sleeping, when he'd try to hold you close and make sure you rested comfortably in the morning, you'd almost instantly pull away...leave to take a shower.

"Hey honey, you doing okay in there? I don't want to bother you...I've just noticed you seemed to be feeling down more often. I guess I just...worry about you. I love you and I want to make sure you're happy..." The shower flicked off as he finished his sentence and for a split second he had hope you would talk with him, but when the door opened, you stood in front of him wrapped in a towel...eyes red and puffy, and that same fake daunting smile on your lips.

"Kazuha honey, what're you doing outside of the door? Were you talking to me? I didn't hear anything..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 24

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pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n hi. it's me. i'm back. i don't have any excuses to make.

please also check out daybreak, posting weekly from now on (yes i did write an entire smau instead of queenmaker and sit on it for almost six months)

previous | masterlist | next

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Comeback approaches like a hurricane; it's there, developing in the corner of your eye just off the coast of your island, and then all at once it is here, and it is so all-encompassing that you're not even sure where here is anymore.

Comeback. Debut. The most important day of your life. One of those.

 Time starts to fly by; schedules and practice and filming and every so often the chance to sleep or to grab something to eat with the others. It drags at your coattails, sticks itself to your feet and settles like a weight upon your shoulders, but you can't stop. There are performances to film, and then there is a concert that you are missing so much of the choreography for, and even when all of that is over, you are headfirst into award season and special performances and group activities for the company and-

First, debut. Second, everything else.

The camera sits on the table in front of you, staring with one dark, unblinking eye as a brush darts across your face, erasing all your imperfections. It fills your stomach with a funny kind of fear, small but poisonous, stinging when you think about turning it on - you've managed to put it off so far, waiting until your face was made up to at least avoid having to see your own naked skin reflected back at you in the viewfinder. No one else wanted to see that either, you're sure, after the things you've read and...well, the experiences you've had in the past. It's good to know your limits, after all.

That excuse is fast running out now though, and the time to go up towards the stage is drawing closer with alarming speed, and if you don't capture any footage before that happens, you're in some real trouble, no matter how loudly Seungmin and Felix are churning out hours worth of content on the other side of the room.

It takes real, deliberate effort to lean forward and turn that camera on once the makeup artist proclaims you ready, your hands delaying still as they fiddle with the angle and the focus, following the motions the manager that had handed it to you had shown you before he left. It gives you a little red light to say it is filming, and you swallow down the stone in your throat and sit up straight, looking around at the room to avoid the stare of its lense.

The first minute of your vlog is very boring. It's probably only the thought of some stranger sitting in a room later and watching you sit there awkwardly for a ridiculous amount of time that spurs you into saying anything at all. 

"Hello Stay," you begin, because it seems the only way to begin. The words feel awkward in your mouth, your tongue stiff and undeserving of saying them, and your throat scratches and dries; you think, as you speak, that you do not sound like a singer at all. "It's nice to meet you...for the second time." 

A noise rises up from behind you, giving you pause just as you run out of things to say - Han, running his voice up and down the scales as he begins to warm up. You've gotten used to that by now, the volume of the boys around you, but you're grateful for the excuse to pause in your self-rumination anyway, the precious seconds it gives you to figure out what it is you're saying.

Act normal, you tell yourself firmly as you turn back to the camera.

"I guess I should introduce myself, shouldn't I?" you say, your fingers twisting in your lap. "I'm L/N Y/N from Stray Kids, and today we're at [] for our first performance of Back Door, and I have just finished with the makeup..."

In the corner of the viewfinder, you notice a face hovering over your shoulder; Jeongin, waving a peace sign just out of your field of vision. You turn to look at him, shuffling over so that he is in full view for the camera. "What are you doing?" you ask and he leans in closer, automatically fixing the angle for the camera.

"I just wanted to see what you were doing," he says, refreshingly peaceful compared to the chaos that is building in the rest of the room. "Is this a vlog?"

"Mhm," you answer, and he smiles and waves again to the camera. "Are you dressed already?"

"Nearly," he says, glancing down at his white shirt and the black necklace that dangles around his neck. "You have time still."

You glance down at yourself; hoodie and cargo pants, neat but not show-ready by any means. "Mine is cold," you say by way of explanation, thinking of the skirt and thin shirt that wait on a rack in the next room, a far cry from the long pants the eight of them are wearing; and you really do like the look you've been given, but the thought of sitting around cold before you had to was less than enticing. "I was going to go and change in a minute."

"Maybe you should swap with someone," I.N suggests slyly. "I bet Changbin would look good in a skirt."

"Changbin's pants wouldn't fit me," you throw back, and he has to turn away from the camera to hide the ugly laugh that snorts from his nose. "He's too-"

Short, you don't say, your eyes tracking the boy in question as he passes by. He pauses in the back of your video when he notices your eyes on him, looks between you suspiciously, and then dances his way out of frame, having decided, you guess, that you aren't up to anything worthy of comment.

The look you share with I.N almost makes you laugh again. "I'm going," you say, scooping up your camera as you stand, "before he realises we're talking about him."

---

"Why do you look nervous?" Chan asks, a shadow that suddenly stands beside you as someone clips a mic pack onto his belt. You eye him in disbelief to avoid turning to look at the hallway that leads to the stage again, trying to figure out if he's joking or not.

"I can be nervous if I want to," you answer after a few seconds, in a way that definitely doesn't hide how anxious you feel at all. 

"But you shouldn't be," he insists, "because there's nothing to be nervous about."

"You know that won't stop me," you scoff.

He cracks a smile despite himself. He almost laughs, except that he's busy turning to nod in acknowledgement of whatever the assistant behind him says on her way past. "It's going to be a good performance," he says, like the simple act of saying it is enough to manifest it into existance, like he would never believe otherwise.

"It's going to be good," you agree readily. "The concerts next week are going to be good too."

That smile flashes across his face again, his eyes lighting up. "You're excited?" he asks - and you almost feel guilty, that he would think that you wouldn't be excited, that you've worked so hard and put on such a stoic face that any of them might start to think this is a chore for you, rather than a dream coming true in front of your eyes.

"Of course I'm excited," you tell him emphatically, before he can get any ideas. "I can't wait to-"

"Y/N noona!" Changbin says as he strides across the room, stopping the thought halfway through. You turn to face him and the phone he waggles in his hand questioningly. "Take a photo with me."

"Right now?" you ask, looping your in-ears over your shoulders as if to demonstrate just how poor his timing is.

Changbin doesn't notice at all. "Why not now?" he questions. "I'm supposed to take a photo for instagram. Come and take one with me."

Beside you, Chan looks like he still has something to say, but when you glance at him, he only shrugs, turning away to fiddle with his own equipment. "Alright," you agree easily and follow Changbin, over to a bland enough piece of wall with decent lighting. You have a feeling someone has already scouted the room earlier for the best places to take photos, judging by how easy it is to find and how well it photographs.

It's a good distraction from the nerves for a few minutes, but it doesn't last much longer than that; especially not when Changbin barks and fusses over the angle and the faces, and then Hyunjin comes wandering over to take the camera out of his hand, and you realise that he's occupying you as much as doing what Skijigi have asked him to do. After that, you laugh and poke fun back at him with just the same vivacity, but it does nothing to assauge the anxiety that's planted deep in your gut, roots curling out to envelop you.

Somehow, when you're done, it is time to go up to the stage - and suddenly, you are engulfed within the group and walking that hallway you had been staring at what feels like moments ago, trying to swallow with a dry mouth and a stone in your throat and wondering if you'll actually be able to get any of the notes out at all.

Chan's hand touches your shoulder as you walk, appearing by your side in just the same way as he had earlier. You wonder if he can smell fear or something; or if you really are just that pale and drawn in the face, if your hands are shaking or something. Whatever it is, you're clearly not doing a very good job of hiding it. 

"You still look nervous," he tells you cheerily, and if he's aware that he's reading your thoughts, he doesn't give any indication of it, not even as he pulls you aside as you reach side-stage and glances up at the huddle of boys that continue to the bottom of the stairs, eyeing them as if there's something he doesn't want them to hear.

"I got you something," he says, when he's sure there are no eavesdroppers, and lets his lips curve in a secretive, delighted smile.

Your eyebrow raises in surprise, almost certain that he did not forget, but rather has been looking for the right time to bring it up - but he doesn't notice the look of disbelief, fishing a small, velvet bag out of his pocket. He offers it to you on an outstretched palm, a bridge to form the gap between you.

With timid, shaking fingers you take it, noting the pink that stains his cheeks and the way he cringes away from meeting your eye as you pull the drawstrings loose. "I saw you playing with the ones at K-Con," he hurries to explain before you can even see what's inside. "And you - fidget a lot. I thought it might help."

A ring tumbles out of the bag and into your palm, the full stop to the end of his sentence. It's only a plain silver band, softly curved at the edges and gleaming where the light hits it - nothing ostentatious or gaudy. Just a simple band for you to twist around your finger, the letters SKZ engraved on its inner circle.

"Thankyou," you manage to say as you slip it onto your finger - and then fiddle with it, twisting it and forth to distract yourself from the nervous hum that seems to hang in the air between you.

"Oh, no." He waves you away before you can even get the words out, that pink flushing his face. "Look, it works already." 

You glance down at your fingers and the twist of the ring, and feel the grin that bites at your face. "I like it," you admit, and try to breathe the nervous jitters out of your chest with the words. 

He looks...relieved? You're not sure, when the music blasts on stage and then cuts off and the crowd roars in response, cutting him off before he can say whatever it is that now lines the back of his teeth. It looks like relief on his face though; as if he'd been worried you wouldn't take the gift or something. Wouldn't see the sentiment behind it even if you didn't like it. What does he think of you, if that's how he thinks you might react?

The thought sends another thrill of fear down your spine, one that the scrape of that ring on your finger can't quiet. So does the scream of that crowd - adrenaline rises from your chest, wrapping its hands around your throat; that wild, senseless energy tensing in your body like you're about to run from a fight-

A hand claps your shoulder. "Are you breathing?" Seungmin asks, balancing on one foot as he leans around you to frown at your face.

You have to inhale to retort, and he smirks. "That's what I was wondering," Chan says behind that grin - but the brush of his hand over the back of yours is much softer; questioning, rather than the jolt of contact from Seungmin.

"I don't need to breathe," you throw at them weakly. "I'm a robot."

"How do I turn you off, then?" Chan asks, and then laughs when you stare at him, surprised. Betrayed, maybe, when you would have expected such a thing to come out of Seungmin's mouth rather than his.

You're distracted by the call of a staff member, waiting to usher you onto the stage - and there, again, are your nerves, returned in two-fold. Debut, you remember again for the thousandth time today. Your dream. Your reward. Your life's work, the only work you've ever learnt how to do.

The group huddle together, say some quick words of encouragement that float past you with registering at all. Your hand is warm in the centre of all of theirs, crushed by the weight of someone's palm as eight hands go down and whoever is on the bottom goes up, ruining the whole thing. You know that you laugh, between the groans and cries of retribution, but it doesn't reach right into your chest. All your attention is laser-focused on the steps before you and the buzz of the crowd waiting beyond.

You are not alone in your daze, at least. Many hands pat your shoulders, smooth your hair. Felix throws an arm around you until you reach the stairs, a one-armed hug while he talks about something in your ear. He lets you go while you climb, and follows on your heels out onto the stage.

The crowd is smaller than K-Con, to your mercy, even if they scream and cheer just as loud as that massive crowd had. It seems like a stupid thing to find comfort in a moment later, when the thought hits you again; of course the crowd is smaller. This is only a broadcast recording, not the concerts that leer at your from the near future.

Some of the boys are already at the centre of the stage, waving and talking to fans. You join them long enough for the official greeting - and then melt away into the background when Changbin immediately commands attention. You find Han there with you, arms swinging by his sides in one last warmup, but you can't think of anything to say other than the tight grin that offers itself to him, no doubt writing all you nerves right onto your face. The smile he gives you in return is sympathetic, and devoid of pretty words to go with it; just a flash of teeth, a puff of air that blows into his cheeks before exhaling. It's a little comfort, at least.

The call to begin shatters any calm it pulls over you just as quickly as it arrives though, the stage a hive of activity as everyone finds their places. For a long moment, no one moves and nothing plays, the tense, still seconds ticking by at an excruciating pace-

And then the music starts.

And then you dance.

And then you sing, loud and clear and bright - and steady, even with the complex movement of your body and the increasing cry of your chest for air. 

The finale rises and culminates with Felix's voice, standing at the end of the line behind you. You feel his weight bump against you as he shifts on his feet, hear the moment of silence and then the renewed cheer of the crowd when his ending fairy comes up on the screens. You can't see when it ends, so you count to five before you turn, ducking out of the line as requested and immediately finding the red light of the camera that was told to be waiting for you. Finger hearts, Felix had suggested backstage and Hyunjin had agreed, and so that is what you give them, angled just so by your cheek and the giddy smile that had been pulling on your lips before the music was even finished.

The stage goes silent, the few scattered beginnings of applause quickly throttled by the hands that remain in their laps. The seconds tick by at a glacial pace, the smile threatening to slip from your face. You glue it there with all the fire that remains in your veins.

You could swear the camera lingers, just to drink in your pain. Logically, you know it is the same time as Felix had. Somehow, the thought isn't comforting.

Finally, that lense clicks off and the boys move around you, giving the crowd something else to hawk and squeal at. Something they really want to see, you allow yourself to think acerbically, and carefully avoid looking any of them in the eye as you do your forced, casual wander off the stage. It is hard enough to achieve in your own bubble, to resist that urge to run, let alone if you catch anything like sympathy on their faces.

The first one below, you take one look at the playback monitor and excuse yourself to the staff, fleeing towards the bathrooms. You're dimly aware of footsteps behind you and the sound of your name, but they do not process and your feet won't stop - not until the heavy door slams shut behind you and the propel of your walk carries you in sight of the mirror over the sinks-

Beautiful, you'd dared to think earlier, staring vindictively at just the same image that looks back at you now. The careful fit of the navy shirt, the short skirt flattering the length and lines of your legs, the layered bangles and the diamonds that glitter around your neck...perfectly crafted to slip right in amongst the silk and patterns of the boys - and not unlike Midnight's dark queen concept either, the concept you hadn't had the right look for. You'd even liked your face, and the unearthly glow they'd painted into your cheeks, the perfect frame of your dark hair-

But something had displeased that crowd. Whether the look, or the dancing, or stupid, stubborn pettiness over girlish crushes - or all of it put together. It took a lot to silence an entire crowd. You knew that - you'd seen one refuse to be silenced before, but never nominally refuse to cheer. Never pass the sentiment around and come to an absolute mutual agreement.

It's a talent, to be able to do that by yourself, you think as you stare into your own eyes in the mirror; and you don't have it in you to deny the rush of feelings that wells in your chest this time, or the hot prick of tears in your eyes. Your thoughts are swept off in the storm, the questions clamouring, crying, begging for one answer; why, why, why, why. Why do they hate you, why are they so mean about it, why didn't you just go home? Why did you ever come to this country in the first place? Why id you think you were good enough to be worth their love?

A soft knock on the door precedes the tentative entry of an assistant; one of the girls from JYP that always travels with you on schedules. You know her name, but you should know her better; instead, you've just been keeping to yourself. Another point of failure, probably.

"Y/N?" she says, daring to put one foot through the door as you blink and nod in acknowledgement. "Sorry - we need to start heading back now. You can have another moment - if you need-"

"I'm coming," you hurry to say; and it is shame that colours your cheeks and gives you the strength again to swallow it down like a hard stone. The tears burn as you blink them away, as you stare at the mirror and decide that no more will fall except for the traitorous three that have already escaped. You'll have to go back on that stage - you won't go red-eyed and puffy, won't give them that satisfaction.

You'll have to do that ending again too, though. Weather that storm a second time. Well, you'll just have to make sure this take is perfect, and then no one will ask for a third. You'll be able to go home and hide.

Your moment is up. You know that, and so you turn yourself away from the mirror, to the girl that waits. She willingly averts her eyes as she steps out, holding the door for you until you grip the edge of it with your own hand and follow her.

Chan is waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall and staring at nothing as he waits. There's a dark anger in his eyes when he turns, but it isn't for you - no, the tissue box in his hand is for you, offered like a bridge that spans the gap between you. 

Warily, you draw one and turn aside to dab at your eyes and try to cool the burn in your cheeks. You want to cringe away from yourself and hide in the bathroom again, to put off facing him until he goes away - but if you do that, he'll know you're hiding, and the hovering assistant will bear the blame of not bringing you back, and those fans will think they know why it's taking so long-

Stupid. They already know that they've won. Chan can see you crying. There's no one left to make a fool of except yourself.

"Are you alright?" Chan asks - and just like you thought, there is none of that anger in the gentle voice that asks.

"It's fine," you answer, biting at your tongue agains the tears that threaten to stir anew. "Sorry. I just needed - a moment. I'm ready to go again."

"Take another moment," he tells you.

"I'd rather go," you say, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to - but it is only the tears that you are fighting, that horrible, gut-wrenching wave of emotion that wants to wash over you. "I'm fine. Really."

The tissue crushes in your palm. You wonder if the sceptical look he gives you is because of the makeup you've surely smudged, or if he just doesn't believe you. "Are you sure?" he asks, and you steel yourself as you breathe in.

"I will be if we don't talk about it," you tell him tightly, and then you take the lead before he can disagree. He falls into step willingly anyway, thoughtful or maybe brooding as you weave your way back to the stage.

"We're not doing the endings again," he tells you as you approach, right as the flock of makeup artists engulf you. Like they knew you'd be crying, you think acerbically, and then banish the thought before it can unbalance you again.

"Were there any notes for me?" you ask as a brush dusts your cheek. The dancing; that's the only thing you need to focus on. The performance. Do it perfectly, and you can escape. Subconsciously, you fingers find the ring, twisting it around and around.

"Not for you," Chan says. "Just try to enjoy it again, yeah?"

Several choice comments come to mind as you gaze at him, each one as dry and hurt as the last, but a look at the occupants of the room stills your tongue. Assistants and stylists and employees of the show - people that you shouldn't be caught speaking ill of fans or members in front of. You've read your contracts and the company ethics, seen the bill for your training attached to your name. You know how far fans and a good public image takes even the most insidious people.

"I'll try," you promise instead, firmly holding your tongue to your principals. No point complaining about hardships anyway. This isn't an industry that takes pity on those who are too weak to survive it.

Even so, the answer seems vapid and contrived the moment it spills out of your mouth. Chan doesn't have time to contest it; the others are already returning to the stage to entertain that undeserving crowd, and so you must follow too, side by side in silence. His microphone passes restlessly from hand to hand, even when you step on stage and his brow smoothes out. You wonder how long that rage will simmer beneath his skin.

Until he can do something about it, a little voice whispers to you with a thrill, watching his receding back.

The stage sweeps you away after that, Chan disappearing into the midst of the others with just one last glance over his shoulder to make sure that you're following. Seungmin replaces him, appearing unobtrusively in your shadow as Felix slings an arm back around your shoulders and bats his hand away from messing with your hair. They flank you until you drift into your position, and then the stage goes quiet so that the music can start again. 

The dance flies by; chorus, verse, bridge, dance break. The fans cheer and chant along as dutifully as they had the first time, but the sound resonates hollow in your chest this time, the faces that you give the camera manufactured rather than brought on by the music. It's hard to forget, now that you know the truth, that those cheers aren't for you; only the boys that surround you, their bodies moving in unison with yours. Part of them, and yet set apart. 

You'd come six years ago expecting to be the jewel in that kind of crown, you think. This crowd has made you the flaw, ugly and unmistakably out of place.

It's a relief when the song ends and you can let go, your shoulders slumping and your chin dropping to your chest as you stare at the floor and try to breathe. A hundred emotions sweep by you, there and then swallowed again by the storm that churns in your stomach; you flinch away from the crowd's laughter at something Han does, and then laugh when Changbin's face appears upside-down in your field of vision, his body contorted strangely in an effort to meet your eyes. There's still something hiding in Chan's eyes and Felix is openly angry, but Minho gives nothing away in the nod he gives you as he passes by. Changbin talks about what to get for dinner on the way back down the stairs, but the words just wash over you; you're not hungry anyway, after all of this, just hollow and restless and tired.

Your third filming trudges by much the same, correcting a small mistake by Han in the pursuit of perfection. The boy looks apologetic as he passes you by, but it's not him or the dancing that you resent. It's just a thing you have to do, until all nine of you are pleased, until you can finally leave that stage and draw the hoodie you'd worn here on a very different kind of morning back over your head and climb into a car to go home.

You don't win any awards. The boys hide their disappointment, but you know it is there. You know, too, where the fan vote went and why that trophy was stolen away from them. 

You're not really sure what anyone expects you to do about it.

---

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[moonsaver]

do you have any nsfw hc thoughts for ratio?

also, i believe you could definitely deliver an amazing royal au series, im totally sat for it!

Hello, thank you anon! Im still figuring things out on the royal au, haha. I might need to modify my writing style for it? But im not so sure. Hope it'll go well once I'm done, though.

Nsfw below the cut!

Dr. Ratio isn't someone who's an absolute brute, or a rough-sex freak in my opinion. He has a fair balance between rough and fast paced, and sensual, slow lovemaking.

Id say he's into overstimulation, edging, degradation, and a tad bit of dumbification.

Normally, I'd say he's into tying you down. Silk ropes are his favorite go-to. He usually does it before a shared bathtime, massaging products into your body acting as foreplay before bathing together. He teases you so much, hands slowly massaging your boobs as you shudder, his thumb rubbing your tits glistening with the product, eyeing the twitching of your body.. his hands work effortlessly into massaging and relaxing your body, squeezing and rubbing your butt, thighs, and clicking his tongue in faux irritation as he sees your arousal drip, fingers only edging and massaging the oil or lotion around your lips, eyes fixed onto your eager little clit. Stay still, for goodness' sake, he says.

Fingering is also a part of foreplay. His fingers are a bit rough, despite how often he uses skincare, and they provide extra friction whenever he's scissoring your cunt relentlessly. He taunts you just how eagerly you're sucking up his fingers, thumb massaging your swollen clit, as his eyebrows furrow in concentration. He's a bit sloppy, but fast and slightly rough, hitting every sensitive spot inside of you perfectly. Doesn't stop even after you've come, you can babble and cry for all he cares.

As for penetration – he's averagely sized, but girthy. His cum is also kind of thick, slightly creamy, and has a note of saltiness. He stretches you out well, groaning a bit into your ear when you eagerly welcome him. Likes coming inside of you. Especially when he's rough, immediately pulls out the moment he cums and finger-fucks it back into your cunt, clicking his tongue when it keeps spilling out of you, and decides it's better to just fuck another batch into your swollen cunt, telling you to stay quiet and just take it.

Not a fan of oral receiving – as much of a turn off as it sounds, he's probably versed in reproductive biology and doesn't quite like the idea of you swallowing his cum, and neither does he really feel comfortable with him in your mouth.

Giving however, is welcomed an average amount. He teases and edges you so much it drives you insane. He keeps you tied down, as mentioned before, and his fingers drag along your slit, watching your thighs twitch and hips buck, frustration and desperation building inside of you. At some point, he uses it as an excuse to just overstimulate you. Fine, you want him that badly? He'll eat you out until you can't think like you wanted him to. And does exactly that. Leaves you an incoherent mess, your slick dripping down his chin, spread on the inside of your thighs.

Not too noisy in bed. A few grunts here and there, heavy, husky breathing, and groans whenever he comes inside, and his general dirty talk. He would prefer you to be a bit vocal, though. He does want to hear how good he's making you feel, and he feels proud whenever he makes you moan loudly, especially if you're on the quieter end.

Aftercare is soft. He kisses your shoulder, neck, and gently settles you into the bath. Makes small talk with you, and has you relax against his chest, one hand rubbing any part of your body that might be sore, and filling the noise by talking about one or the other thing.

[thursdaygxrls]

this is a bit self indulgent to request lol but i’m very partial to any hunger games au just so my babies arent as traumatized by the end lmao😭

maybe pirate!finnick x reader where they take r captive? finnick brings her some food and makes sure the other pirates keep away from r

anon, i do not know how i feel about this one. i absolutely loved this request, but i may have screwed up the pic. apologies 🙏 i tried using second person for the first time also. the beginning may be confusing, please bear with me

a simple mistake

pairing pirate!finnick odair x maid!reader

summary when the pirates of the mockingjay planned to kidnap the princess, they thought everything would go smoothly. however, there's one big problem: they kidnapped the wrong girl.

warnings unedited shitty writing, kidnapping, guns, gale, modern language in a different time period

Wherever you were, it was dark. Or maybe it was just the blindfold.

It felt like moments ago that you were tucked cozily into her bed, your body encased by down. There was a crash somewhere in the castle - down the hall? You were only half awake as cloth that smelled like dirt and saltwater wrapped itself tightly around your eyes, and you were dragged from her slumber.

This was a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. Tried tried to explain this to her captors as they tugged her, but all you could muster was a few muffled noises over the bitter-tasting gag tied around you. To their credit, those holding you right now were strong and fast: they kept a tight grip on her arm while being able to shove you forward at a fast pace. Lost in your panic, you didn't catch what they were saying to each other: "Are you sure this is her?" "Yes, I'm sure. To the right, four doors down from the window."

"Your right or his right?" "The right of the window!"

They kept their tone hushed as they began to descend a staircase. In the back of your mind, you recognized the pattern in which the steps descended: one, two, three, four, turn, five, six, seven, eight, turn - they were headed down the servant's staircase in the back of the castle. There was an exit hatch at the bottom.

With little hope, you thrashed in their grip. As expected, they handled it with ease. The thought that this may be a normal occurrence swirled in your brain, inciting more and more fear.

"Would you stop? It's hard enough going down these steps without someone kicking at me," the person to your left huffed. His tone was odd. For being the perpetrator of a kidnapping, there was no biting edge to his words.

Your bare feet hit the dewy grass with no warning. In between racing thoughts and heaved breaths, you'd made it to the exit. It was summer, but the coolness of the night air settled over your skin and made you shiver. You were only in your night shift, after all: shabby cloth that provided a nearly sufficient amount of modesty.

Boom!

The noise has you screaming against the cloth as the two holding you swear.

Boom!

There it was again, loud and threatening.

“Guards are a worse shot than I thought,” the man to your left says as they pick up the pace.

Boom!

Oh, God, the guards were shooting at them — were shoot at you! Hushed prayers are whispered from your lips, though, they’re unintelligible. The person to your right must pick up on the trembling in your body because they begin moving at an impossibly faster speed. You wonder how they haven’t fainted by now, how you haven’t fainted by now.

“Don’t worry,” they say, speaking to you through the gunshots, “Never had cargo die on us before. Plus, it’s not you they’re shooting at, it’s us.”

This does nothing to quell your fears, but a new sensation under your feet works to distract your ever rushing mind. If it wasn’t for the two people practically carrying you, you would be sinking in the soft earth beneath you. It was a bit coarse, but delicate, and parted to make way for your feet. Was it sand? There was yelling in all directions: next to you, behind, in front. Then you hit an incline, and the softness of the sand roughened under your feed. You were rocking, too, and not just you, the ones holding you up. There was a crash entirely unlike the sound of the guns, and another sway — oh, fuck.

This was a ship.

“They’re on us!” One of them screamed as you plateaued to a surface

“In a minute, they won’t even see us,” a gruff voice responded, seemingly unfazed by nearing sound of gunshots. There was a loud groan and suddenly, you were moving. Though the two still had a strong hold on you, you stumbled as the ship began to move. The gunshots, which had been getting louder, were sounding much more distant. Even if it was only a minute or two since you’d been hoisted onto the ship, it felt like hours.

“I was hoping this would be a clean job, y’know, no—” The gruff voice which had spoken before stopped. You could hear an unsteady breath as footsteps neared you.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

And then there was light, nearly blinding from the amount of time you’d spent in the dark. The owner of the voice ripped the cloth from your eyes in one swoop, and you cringed at the bleeding dawn along the horizon.

“What?” You whipped your head to the left, finding a tall older boy with dark brown hair and bright eyes.

“This is not the Princess.” You could now see the owner of the gruff voice, who was a middle-aged man with greasy, chin length blonde hair and scruff around his chin. His eyes were trained on you as he spoke.

“What?” The boy repeated.

“You grabbed the wrong goddamn girl, Gale,” the man’s voice boomed.

“I told you something was off,” the man on the right — tall and bald — groaned.

“Why the hell did you not say that before you kidnapped her?” The blonde man huffed.

“I did!” He argued back.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Gale spoke up.

“I…I don’t know,” the blonde sighed, “We can’t go back now, not like this. They’ll have the land and water covered in an hour. Just take her down.”

“Haymitch, I’m really—”

“Just take her down, Gale,” Haymitch, the blonde man, repeated in a stern tone. The boy bowed his head, and the bald man followed suit, turning you and hauling you away from the front of the deck. Had you not been so dimmed with exhaustion from running from gunfire and screaming against the gag in your mouth, you may have done a little more fighting during that conversation. Instead, you studied the crew of the ship who were running around as though you didn’t exist. They shouted at each other, likely still executing their speedy getaway off the main island. As they lead you to the door at the middle of the dock, you noticed Gale eyeing you.

“You’re…not the Princess?” He asked quietly.

“She can’t speak,” the bald man rolled his eyes before taking the gag from your mouth. Immediately, you heaved in a deep breath, finding that the air was still salty even without the seawater-flavored gag.

“You’re not?” Gale repeated his question as though you didn’t hear him.

“No.” You found your voice to be hoarse, but forceful as you glared at him. In finding this voice, questions exploded from your mouth.

“What the hell is going on? Let me go! Why did you take me? Where am I?” They ignored these questions.

“We should’ve asked her first,” the bald man groaned.

“She would’ve said ‘no’ even if she was the Princess!” Gale yelled. They pushed past the door and lead you down the steps to a small hall. They turned onto the first room.

“Well, we’re here,” Gale sighed, letting go of your arm. Your limbs felt like jelly from being pulled and shoved for so long, however, you tried your hand at pushing past them and running. The question of where you would go was a thought for later.

“Woah,” the bald man immediately grabbed ahold of you as you attempted your escape, “Please try to stay put, alright? There’s not many places for you to go.”

“Why am I here?” You asked again, your tone laced with anger.

“Just sit tight for a while, okay?” Gale spoke awkwardly as he and the other man kept you still.

“Sit tight?” You repeated indignantly.

“Please just go sit, I don’t want to tie you up,” the bald man sighed. To your surprise, there was genuine sympathy in his voice. Even so, you stared at them, unmoving. This silent chess match carried on for another thirty seconds before a groan left Gale, and he shoved you to the floor. Your behind hit the floor hard, and before you could scramble to pick yourself up, they were out the door. You got to your feet and helplessly tried the doorknob, but it was already locked.

“That was just plain rude,” you could hear the muffled voice of the bald man through the door, “What’s wrong with you, man?”

“She wasn’t moving,” Gale’s voice was somewhat unfazed.

“You’re an ass, really.” The voices faded out, and it was then, for the first time in what seemed like forever, that you were alone. The room was small, wooden, and windowless. There was a cot with a threadbare blanket and a sorry excuse for a pillow on one end and a tattered table and chair on the other.

You tried to find ways to occupy yourself: banging on the door, screaming, punching the pillow, questioning God, picking at the wood, acquiring splinters. Any amount of time could’ve passed: seconds, minutes, hours, days. Well, maybe not days, but it felt like it. You were laying on the cot, counting the rings in the ceiling when the lock jostled. You sat straight up, jumping from your bed when the door opened. You rushed at the entry, only to be blocked by a rough hand.

“They said you’re quick,” a mellow voice followed the hand. This wasn’t the man who demanded you were taken here or either of the ones who followed his orders; he was new. Sandy blonde hair that gently spiked on his head, tanned skin, likely from his days on the deck, dark blue eyes, and pink lips that stretched into a crooked smile. While one of his arms kept you secure, the other held a tray with a portion of bread, a bowl, and a metal cup.

“What is going on?” You asked gruffly.

“I can tell you, but you have to promise you won’t run the second I step away from this door,” he said, looking a bit more calm than one might expect. You, still staring him down, considered the options, and with a relenting sigh, backed away. He entered the room, that easy smile still on his face as he shut the door behind him.

“So,” He spoke, eyeing you, “I take it you’re not the Princess.”

“No, I am not,” you responded, voice terse with frustration.

“I see,” he nodded, then gestured towards the cot for you to sit. You obliged cautiously. As far as kidnappings went, this one was rather polite — but it was still a kidnapping.

“I can assure you that the plan was not to kidnap you,” he sighed, taking a seat at the table. He extended the tray of food towards you, but you don’t take it. Not yet.

“And what was the plan?” You asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Well, darlin’,” he began, “The plan was to kidnap the Princess and ransom her back. Take that money and spread it across the islands, give back to those who need it.” Suspicion peaked in you, and it was obvious he could tell, because his smile stretched further.

“What, don’t believe me?” He hummed, cocking his head.

“Would you trust someone who stole you?” You fired back. He laughed gently at that.

“Probably not, but you’re lucky it was instead of anyone else,” he spoke.

“Lucky?” You repeated with a scoff.

“Darlin’, this ship we’re on? It’s the Mockingjay,” he set his palm on his knee. This struck a chord; the Mockingjay. You’d heard of them before, just rumors. Some called them the gentle pirates, others called them weaklings. They took what they wanted with force, but never caused any casualties.

“I’m Finnick,” he interrupted your thoughts suddenly, extending his hand, “And I’m just dying to know your name.”

Though you took his hand with reluctance, you didn’t speak a word. This creased a wrinkle along his forehead.

“I think it’s best if we do introductions now rather than later,” he said, keeping his deep blue eyes on you. A sigh escaped you before you turned from his gaze and towards the ceiling.

“Y/n,” you replied quietly.

“Pretty name. Wish we were meeting under different circumstances, but I’ll take what I can get,” he grinned, “Who are you, Y/n?”

“I’m a maid,” you spoke, unsure why you replied instead of ignoring him, “The Princess’s Lady in Waiting. Her companion.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed, “That’s why you had yourself a room up there. You and the Princess close?” You don’t respond to this, jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry for this, Y/n, truly,” he frowned, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“But it was a kidnapping all the same,” you sigh.

“You’re right. You’re right, but we’re not perfect people. We do what we have to. And right now,” he grabbed the tray once more, extending it towards you, “I have to make sure you eat.”

“Aren’t you supposed to give me the tray and leave?” You glared at him.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, the tray still in his hands, “I guess I do what I want. And I want to sit with you while you eat.”

“Why?” You don’t let up with your accusing gaze.

“I wouldn’t want a pretty lady starving on my ship. That would just break my heart,” he grinned. Another second of silence.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, a weak shudder in your voice betraying your cold stare. It would make sense, after all: you were useless. The King wouldn’t pay a ransom for a maid.

“What?” The question seemed to genuinely shock him, “No, oh, God, no. I wouldn’t lay a hand on you.”

“What about them out there? The rest of the crew?” You gestured to the door.

“They wouldn’t either, but even if they tried, I wouldn’t let them get to you,” he spoke, surprisingly reassuring, “You’re not going to be killed, I can assure you of that.”

You swallowed hard, finally looking back at him to see the genuine look in his eyes. He seemed kind, which was strange. Was it some sort of manipulation tactic? A means to an end?

“Are you going to eat, or should I start spoon-feeding you?” He asked, that easy smile appearing on his face once more. Hesitantly, you took the plate from his hands. He stayed there, sitting across from you, watching you lift the cup to your mouth. Sadly, you couldn’t deny your manners, and before you took a sip, you looked at him.

“Thank you, Finnick,” you mumbled.

“My pleasure, Darlin’,” he replied, grinning as you tucked into your meal.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑀𝑦 𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝑚𝑒

A/N: Okay, I got inspired again and this piece is just me, pouring my absolute and eternal love to the favourite place of mine: Mondstadt! This could be read in sagau or just any other normal piece of work but I wrote it with Creator!Reader AU in mind.

Because let's be honest, they welcomed the Traveller albeit a bit hesitantly, with open arms even when they were really busy with Dvalin situation... And I might be sick of writing/reading Mondstadt as one of the nations who tortured Creator!Reader 👉👈

"Mondstadt."

One might be wondering why the Creator was telling the nation of freedom's name right in front of the said nation but the answer was pretty clear to you as you stood before the entrance of the city with Venti next to you, looking pretty surprised himself with his aqua eyes wide open.

And no, it wasn't to punish someone.

Why was it that everyone thought you enjoyed torturing people when all they ever did was... to make you drunk?

"I'm choosing Mondstadt."

Because, ever since your arrival to the Teyvat, though most didn't trust you and rather tried funny things on you... The people of Mondstadt welcomed you with open arms, even if they were facing a crisis at the time which was "magically" solved very soon.

That was also a test on them and their Archon Barbatos, who went by the name Venti to honor a friend he once did and was unaware how badly things could have turned out had they been...

Well, you got the idea.

Now, Barbatos often prided himself to be your favourite which often got on the nerves of other gods and Archons. But he didn't give much thought to it as he floated around you as a little spirit at the time. Besides you wouldn't have specifically asked him to accompany you to everywhere you went if you didn't feel safe and secure, if you didn't like him, right?

"I see..." Zhongli said somberly while standing right outside the Gates of the city, his amber eyes filled with jealousy and anger directed themselves onto the shorter Archon next to you looking both surprised and proud as he held your hand. He had to pull himself together, however much it affected him, as he thightened his hand into a fist and looked at you with unconditional love and undetering loyalty, no matter whose nation you chose to stay.

"May I ask why, Your Grace?" He softly asked you, with no hint of anger or malice directed to you as you shuffled on your feet anxiously but held your head high. You were obviously the Creator, come on!

Venti looked at you with a turn of his head, his usually pouty lips forming a thight line as his hand naturally found yours. He remembered the first time you arrived, all the Winds and waters were singing and there was a feast of falling star in the sky. He remembered how he rushed to where you landed, the Tree of Vennessa, and were trying to get your balance back on your wobbly legs. His heart thumped inside his ribcage violently at your etheral body, the fact that you chose his land, the three that meant the world to him to ascend down...

He could have fallen on his knees in gratitude eit tears flowing down his soft cheeks and round eyes right then and there.

But what stood out the most was... The fact that you were scared.

And that damned fact made him almost collapse beneath your feet and beg for forgiveness, for something he didn't even know he did.

Please don't hurt me, one simple sentence that he never knew that could cause so much pain to him even after all the battles he fought. How could someone dare to hurt you enough to think that your Archons would do the same, as if they couldn't sense and feel you and your warmth they all once basked in?

Mind you Venti, you awkwardly thought after he explained everything, standing there like a shy kid, that you were the Creator and you had golden blood and he felt you, and cried on his knees for you to believe him as you patted his back and let him hug you thightly. The amount of fanfics I read about this situation made me a little paranoid.

But... Was he grinning and nuzzling closer to your neck?

After that, you were more relaxed. By now, everyone in Teyvat knew of who you were and already started to plan for your arrival in their nations. So far, Liyue and Inazuma were the most eager ones to have you while Sumeru and Fontaine just let you decide when and how you wished to come to their nation and you were glad for them giving you this choice.

But... Well, you didn't really want to leave here.

Mondstadt always stood out to you the most, even after seeing every other nation. Of course they were all special, but Mondstadt was... Home.

Every time you would get hurt in the game, you would immediately seek out to go to one of the Statues of Seven in Mondstadt. Every time you just wanted to stroll around, you would go to Starsnitch Cliff or Windrise and just listen to the nature, absolutely beaming and glowing with you there. It was cozy and warm here...

Then you would always pay a quick visit to the Dawn Winery and Wolvendom to see Diluc, his staff and then Razor and his family. Every time you suddenly appeared in the Winery, or insisted on helping Adelinde out even though the woman begged you not to do that since she knew Diluc would have a heart attack, yet you still did it.

After all, you were the one who cleaned your own home in your world.

Which, by the way, he did just as Adelinde thought every time as you pampered him with a sweet ringing laughter and swiped his soft hair away from his flaming hot face, all the while fawning over how soft and amazing it was and wanted to learn his secret at keeping it so tame.

And may You forbid it if you tease him about the color of his face and even kiss his forehead affectionately?

Now, you would have a very shy and flustered young man clinging onto your touches and love, something he was mostly deprived off, and warmth that couldn't even compare the one his body had because of his vision.

And sweet Razor? The clueless boy would always tug on your sleeves and run around with you, showing every hidden place and then stop and make a makeshift camp for you, eating whatever you found or hunted together. Other Archons would have had a stroke at seeing you sitting down on mud, eating and cooking simple food as you exchanged stories with him from your world as he listened intensely with wide eyes and animated voices.

He was especially into the Supernatural creature stories for some reasons.

Scolding Jean because she never takes a day off, telling Lisa that she was exceptionally bright, assuring Kaeya that he was enough... And then getting yourself into trouble with them by pranking, some adventures and even more... These were all the reasons why you loved here.

Because often, a place feels like home because of the people you met there and those who had an Impact on your life.

With a soft sigh and looking back to the lively city that welcomed you, you spoke with a voice that held many memories. Both from your world, days spent with farming and wishing for them and from this time when you were... Their God.

"Because all of you always saw me as something I have never been for the entirity of my time... A God, the Creator, The Divine, Godslayer, The First Who Came... Which is fine, really, having a lot of cool titles are amazing but..." You rambled off without realizing, worried that your words might piss the Archon off. But why would it?

You were his Creator anyways, and even if you weren't, you didn't deserve to feel bad for thinking the way you did, right?

But they both were just looking at you with soft eyes, clear devotion and understanding crystal clear in them as they only basked in your etheral voice that could bring them to their knees just by itself. Though Zhongli was bitter that you didn't choose to stay in his nation, it didn't mean that you would never visit and have some tea with him, right?

But Venti? Oh the shorter Archon was grinning like a cheshire cat as pride, joy and love filled his entire being.

All for you and because of you.

But a part of him was also smug and all knowing. Because who else would you go to? He was the first one to get to you, help you and protect you. You arrived to his city first, you asked help from them first and you blessed his city, his people, he himself first.

If Zhongli, or other Archons didn't get it then, it was their problem.

Not his.

Besides, he needed to have someone to dedicate his love songs to, after all! And what a coincidence it was that all those songs were about you and you had to listen to them as... The muse itself.

Zhongli was able to read all of these, at least most of it, since he once spent a lot of time with the childish yet strong archon. Unaware of the silent battle between these two that was ready to tear mountains apart for you...You remembered all the times you got to spend with Venti under the tree he usually sat down whenever he needed to pick his thoughts and spend some time with himself.

Alone, as only his winds companied him.

But, after you showed up with bright smiles and a promise to take his mind off of things with your stories or your flower crowns you made just for him because it would compliment him and his pretty face well to which he only accepted with a bashful smile and flushed cheeks, these lonely moments when he would think back to the past and all the mistakes he did turned out to be... A session where you both learnt to accept yourselves as the way you were.

Mistakes and all.

And that was why you were so sure of your reasoning as to why you chose them.

"They have seen me as Y/N..."

They stared at you shocked with wide eyes, perhaps even the other Archons who weren't present heard you and you were sure you heard some people falling behind you...

Must be your imagination.

You shrugged your shoulders and stared ahead of yourself with a small smile and slightly squeezed eyes, both a result of the bright sun that seemed like it felt your own happiness.

Though Zhongli seemed like he didn't understand what that sentence meant... Venti did, and his face visibly softened as a small oh left his lips. His hand silently sought yours to squeeze in assurance, to tell you that he knew what you meant and felt, your own eyes turned to look at him with your own shy smile as you accepted his slightly calloused hands.

Which made the Geo Archon seethe at him even more since... He wished to be the one in Venti's shoes, the one who had your love and affection, the one who you held dear to your heart and close to yourself, much like now.

"They know me as the one who always tripped on their own feet, the one who got so flustered because Kaeya was flirting with them but was being genuine and always made sure I was comfortable. And never once did he hold any malicious feeling as he showed the city to me, I really didn't have the heart to tell him that I already knew every nook and crevice..."

You mumbled shyly with a flush, remembering how it was the first time Kaeya had genuinely laughed and smiled wide as you both came to a stop under one of the trees near Springvale to catch your breath and then eat whatever you wished to do in the village, which was ecstatic to have the Creator in their humble village and served you the best they could.

You didn't have to know, but as Kaeya watched you play with children and then look around yourself as if you were searching for something-no, someone- his heart beated faster as his tan skin darkened in embarrasment when he understood that you were looking for him.

He was the one you wanted to have close to you, he was the one who brought that wide smile to your face... He was worthy enough to spend the whole day with you and you never for once judged him, his past or whatever weight that had been forced on his shoulders since he was a young boy.

But rather chose to drag him towards an opening to watch the night sky and point every star to him, telling him giddily that it all reminded you of him and his one visible eye sparkling at what you said

He made you swear to never tell a soul about the way he cried onto your shoulder and landed a kiss on your forehead affectionately while you patted his back, his almost whole body on top of yours as he resembled a cute koala to you. Because one, Venti would kill him. Two, Diluc would kill him. And three... He couldn't hug you anymore :(

The third one was obviously the biggest reason why, as he pouted at you when you laughed hard at his reasoning, all the while assuring him that you would protect him...

Which gave him yet another thing to think about before he went to sleep, a lovesick smile being glued on his face as he chuckled and giggled like a teenager girl all the while hugging his pillow thightly, hoping that perhaps one day... There would be someone, you, for example, to take over that empty spot.

"They saw me as the one who always made sure that those around them were comfortable, happy and well-taken care of even though they were struggling with their inner demons and in exchange, was equally taken care of and pampered by delicous food."

Because you knew all those young men, women and teens had one hell of a traumatic life and since you weren't able to erase that part or rewrite it... You wanted to at least let them know that you were there for them.

As a shoulder to cry on, a friend to listen, an ear for them to vent... Whatever they needed at that moment. And though they might have been skeptical about your true intentions at the beginning, they quickly found solace within your presence, hugs and love, slithering to your light like moths did to a flame.

Even Diluc, who usually wasn't one for " idle chit-chat" often found himself before you, drinking grape juice together as he told you about his frustrations... More specifically about Kaeya, his brother with whom he re-connected thanks to you.

"The one who was befriended the fastest by the little kids, because they obviously had immaculate sense in new games and story telling from other worlds an enjoyed making an adult suffer for their entertainment."

Indeed, you learnt it in the hard way while playing with Klee. Though you had an amused face as you said this out loud, you underestimated her energy and love to... bomb things, at that time. It was your fault really, Albedo and Jean warned you about it and how she got excited whenever she went fish-blastimg with someone she loved, but even when you met her... You just thought they were exaggerating it.

You were wrong.

They could only slap their foreheads in affectionate anger as you ran away from Klee who was holding yet another Dodoco bomb that was about to explode because she changed her mind from catching the fish to showing you how amazing it was.

And for a second, you indulged with her... That is, until you realized the bomb was about to set off.

"Klee, dear, I think we should really let go of that bomb!"

"But... Mr. Dodoco only wants to meet you! (⁠✷⁠‿⁠✷⁠)" you nervously sweated, thinking how to dodge her without hurting her feelings when the bright eyes of the bomb caught your attention.

"Maybe in better circumstan-WATCH OUT!"

*cue you and her covered in ashes, Klee holding onto your hand as she rambled about how amazing it was throughout the whole time back to Mondstadt while you were shaking from the adrenaline*

"Yeah... It was amazing, dear."

"The one who was always there to pick up the broken pieces of those who acted noncholant and cold, but held the warmest hearts ever." You pointedly looked at Diluc at this part, who came over as soon as he heard that the ex-Geo Archon was here to have a talk with you, watching as his pale cheeks were blossomed with an adorable pink. To be seen as such in your eyes, as a warm hearted man rather than the cold and uncaring one he showed himself to be...

It was an honor.

To hear such lovely words leave your lips was an honor.

Because you were all he had left, after he lost his father and cut all ties with his brother who came clean to him... The only constant thing he had was you.

You who came to him after days of being in Mondstadt, knowing that it was the same night of the same day when he had that fight with Kaeya and comforted him with soft words and your presence right before the fireplace as you both sat together, knees touching. Even though his breaths were laboured, chest contrasting painfully...

"I know it was hard for both of you... But you only have each other, is there really no way for you both to talk it out?"

He listened to you and his heart caved in. How couldn't he, when you were quite literally begging him with desperation and tears in your eyes for him to accept Kaeya back?

Besides, thanks to you... He had his family back now, and both Diluc and Kaeya couldn't be any more grateful for it.

"The one who knew what loosing a loved one meant, but never pushed too far into their comforting and instead let them come to you."

Diluc couldn't help but nod aimlessly as tears slightly dampened first his eyes and then cheek. It was true that you only left there with one question only, knowing how sensitive the topic around Kaeya and his father was for Diluc.

But you just... wanted to pay them back for all the good they did for you, every time they gifted you something heartfelt, made you your favourite food, indulged in your hobbies even though they might not be as interested as you were to them.

And all the time they spent to help you, with quite literally everything since everything was new to you.

You smiled at the fond memory of Albedo and Sucrose, who were trying to explain to you one of their experiments excitedly. Well... As excited as Albedo could be, of course.

But even as a scientist and an artist, there was one thing Albedo didn't realize at that time but much later when he thought back to it: Though you seemed like you understood what they were talking about... You were actually pretty clueless at whatever the hell they were telling you about.

You never were good at chemistry, okay? Not your fault that Albedo was so damn smart!

"The one who didn't always understand what was spoken to them, whether it was way to smart for them or the language barrier but had people to patiently teach them... And later forced to eat all together in the city with others."

Albedo smiled as the same memory replayed in his mind too. The way you often were distracted by the fresh snow in his lab or a colorful show of his newest experiments which made you grin widely with amazed eyes, always brought a smile to the usually stoic blonde man. He might not exactly understand the human nature, and even saw you as some kind of experiment to work on so that he could better understand you, he really liked... The idea of having you around.

He didn't even know when he started to seek for your praises, of your presence whenever you would touch his shoulder softly and urge him to take a break and come with you to either play with Klee or have some warm "sahlep", a warm winter drink from your world that you specifically made for him.

To which he would always agree, no matter what, under the shocked, jealous and impressed eyes of... Well, everyone in Mondstadt.

Because the Creator was offering him something They have done, specifically for him and was looking at him expectantly for his reaction as they swayed a sleepy Klee from side to side on their lap after she drunk the hot liquid.

Did he use Klee to have more of your attention? Maybe... Did he make even more experiments just to have you in Dragonspine? Yes... Yes, he did and he had absoultely zero shame for it.

You clasped your hands together after talking so much, your throat starting to hurt from using it so much since that irritating raspy feeling had made itself visible slowly.

The disappointed face Zhongli had broke you, he looked like a kid being rejected of something sweet. Just because you chose Mondstadt, it didn't mean you hated other nations.

They all had other reasons to love about!

Liyue had more of an enigmatic aura with all the rituals, temples and over all Divine Vibe in them but they also had a lot of rules, though you didn't have to apply them to yourself.

You already dealt with enough rules and strictness in your world, really, so though you liked the over all traditional vibe... It wasn't your first choice.

Inazuma was much like Liyue, though once the strictest one with rules and eternity in all over the Teyvat. Fontaine, though you liked hanging out with many people there, seemed... Cold, though Tsaritsa's land was the one considered to be cold because of the constant snow.

Maybe Sumeru could have been your next choice, but you were still pissy about those mages and scribes who treated your precious baby Nahida like that-

But Mondstadt... It had been the first your created, the first one you saw and stepped foot onto. The first to welcome you and teach you everything, the first to give you a family and a whole lot of friends, the first ones to allow you to be yourself...

They were the apple of your eyes.

"The one who is just... Y/N. That's why I'm choosing them... I'm choosing my home, but that doesn't mean I love any of you less." You patted Zhongli's back with a sorry look that said please understand my point as he did and smiled back. Your comfort and happiness was the most important one after all and if you were the happiest here, though he still sent daggers to a certain half-drunk-of-you bard who was looking at your back with literal heart eyes, he thought he could be... Fine with it.

At least, for you.

"I understand, Your Grace... I just hope that you will come to Liyue soon, which will be waiting for your arrival quite eagerly."

And as you reassured again and again that yes, of course you would... You were yet to know that Venti already carried your words to the certain people you talked about and the whole people of Mondstadt with his winds as the city cried out in joy from having your blessing and love.

And who knows... Maybe, they could have your blessings and love through one another way.

In a more... Romantic and free way.

Bonus Part!

"Oh, but I'll visit Liyue soon! Can you prepare Osmanthus-"

"Nooo~ Your Grace, Dandelion Wine is much much better!"

Zhongli: ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ 😒

You: (⁠ʘ⁠ᴗ⁠ʘ⁠✿⁠) 🤭

Venti: ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ 😭🥹

Also Zhongli: "As you wish, Your Grace..." 😎

[pastafossa]

Right ok many things have happened in a short amount of time which is where I've been, and most of it is GOOD for once, which is wild when I'm still feeling out of it after being beaten by the Emotional Trauma bat for a few months and I think my body + brain has just kinda short-circuited.

I've been offered a booth spot for my wood carvings at a local witchy market event in April, and I've said yes! If this goes well, it will seriously help my bills and really start getting my name out beyond my normal sellers online. This is huge. I've never done an event before, and my anxiety's through the roof, but mom's agreed to help man the table so that makes me feel a bit better. This is an artsy city and there's tons of tourist traffic in Summer, so establishing myself to the point where I can get into their view would be amazing (tourism is where my teacher sells 75% of his carvings and makes a living).

Additionally, I am now in talks to do a brief, 10-20 minute class on wood this summer at another witchy event run by the same group. If there's enough interest, I might be able to run regular classes (which means more $ as a bonus). This has sort of always been one of my end goals with carving - it's a dying artform, and I LOVE teaching and showing people how easy it is to get into! This is also what my own carving teacher always told me he thought I'd wind up doing eventually: essentially taking his place and continuing to teach others like he taught me.

A couple folks in the community who are published have said they think if I wrote a guide on the various carving woods, their associations, and how to work with them, it would sell, and they're happy to help me. It wouldn't have to be long and it wouldn't be too hard, since most of it is stuff I already have written down for my own notes, but I'm also wondering if this isn't a good way to dip my toe into publishing and see how it goes, especially since I want to publish an AU of TRT one day when it's done. It's not the door into the publishing world I expected to open, but damned if I'm not inclined to take advantage.

I have no idea what to expect going forward. I'm still having some issues after what I went through, but damn, even I can feel this this is a potential path ahead that might do a lot for me.

Anyway, I've got some stuff I've started writing, the promised little one shots, that I'll do before slowly transitioning back into TRT. Ironically, I've used the time to go back over my outline and streamline a few arcs, and had some epiphanies that I think will improve the plot even further. So that was nice, and I think when TRT starts back up, you're going to love what's coming!

Lastly, to the person who dropped that cash into my ko-fi: thank you. You have no idea how much that's helped.

[gumbaigumbai]

Ramblings on Modern AU Ogata

Modern AU Ogata has so much potential when it comes to the different ways his mental instability could be displayed, along with his living situation as well.. so I'll write down some thoughts I've had/collected below (& I'm well aware Noda mentioned he'd be a dentist but I wanna explore other possibilities)

^ to preface I've read a couple works on ao3 abt this as well so some ideas are heavily inspired

Work: I think a job as a photographer would translate over his sniper skills very well, links such as steady hands and a good eye, staying still in a required position, "shooting", and freelance of course.. Though I don't think this would pay well enough for him to maintain a decent living, so he would primarily work as a morgue attendant for a couple reasons; respect given when needed, no customer interactions (or if so, very few), most talking is between co-workers which I don't imagine there's plenty of, he wouldn't be opposed to being in the space w. all the corpses, it could worsen his mental state (🤤), to an extent links back to his "canon" modern job via medical field

As for the home life; small apartment, can't imagine him caring about upkeeping the place or getting "fashionable" furniture so most items inside are just necessities. while he was only doing photography he used to sleep on a mattress but after the attendant job he upgraded to a simple bed. Definitely has a computer setup that he saved up for, used for editing/organizing his pictures and doom scrolling. I like to think he has some interest that he researches in his spare time, could be really into the history & different types of guns, or if we want to be less on-the-nose he'd enjoy deep sea creatures - just reading up on them or watching videos, maybe those informational documentaries. Also has a small amount of fondness towards Hello Kitty (bc ofc I have to add this), though it's something he's embarrassed to admit (Usami found this out & never let him hear the end of it)

Relationship w. ppl

I think he'd be pretty good at coming off as collected while working (outside of home) but when he's not required to talk with others he's contrived in public, says the bare minimum and leaves. He'd keep in touch with Usami and Tsukishima - they always have to reach out first but in his better moods sometimes he starts talking w. Usami. He used to have some sort of relationship with Tsurumi (relationship not used in a romantic sense here) but they fell out and he doesn't have contact with him anymore. Yuusaku has his # and tries inviting him over for the holidays but he declines most of the time, another instance where you must catch him while he's prone to social gatherings..

Mental state 😻

Okay this is where I take a lot of liberty so I apologize if ppl don't like this… I think he would definitely be depressed to some extent, falling into episodes where he's more of an active suicide risk, but it's not often enough to become debilitating to carry on normally. He wouldn't reach out for help, and would over time get much worse before he ever gets better (I'd like to think in the modern world he'd have a real chance at reformation though). Usami would unintentionally worsen Ogata's mental state by affirming his negative thoughts, though as an avid Usao shipper I have to give myself a treat and pretend Usami would take care of him during his worst times… And wouldn't make fun of his attempt at getting better if he ever enters therapy (delusion works in mysterious ways). Ogata would engage in self-destructive behavior; taking light drugs at a younger age but as he got older he resorted to sh. The first step towards rehab however would be a holiday dinner with Yuu where he actually showed up, and they entered a genuine conversation over his issues after Yuu grilled him enough about his worries.

Anyway, sorry this was so long & I didn't include many other characters, & if you just don't really see this as plausible for him - I like to play with him like a Lalaloopsy in my head

[creative-frequency]

WIPs from 2024

It feels like nothing has been normal since covid times, by which I mean its one thing after the other and there is never time to write anymore like I used to :(

The other day I was reading through all the stuff I've never posted anywhere. And boy there is a lot. So I'm doing a bit of inventory and thought I'd at least share some snippets.

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis (Star Wars) x Reader: Party Time

The 4th part of the Inquisitor Cal series. It's missing like two scenes and it haunts me every day.

“Just being with you is soothing… I guess that’s ‘cause you’re not trying to murder me.”

“What if I am?” you ask slyly but your voice wavers in rhythm with Cal’s advances.

He pauses briefly, but quickly continues dragging his lips across your neck.

“Then I’m already dead,” he murmurs right next to your ear and shivers course through you.

→ Part 1 here

Thanatos (Supergiant Games Hades) x Reader: Hades Modern AU

There was a wild period of "let's play Hades for 6hrs a day" last summer, so this modern AU started to form.

“Thank you…” you huff and look up.

Ice slithers down your back. (Probably actually rain water but the freezing effect is the same.)

It’s Thanatos. His eyes widen in evident surprise.

You don’t know which one of you is more shocked to see the other. You should have realised sooner he would also be living in the same building. That would have given you at least the edge of mental preparation for this particular instance.

Though, no amount of mental preparation could have prepared you for the sight of him in casual clothes. The god of death is wearing a short leather jacket on top of a grey turtleneck and jeans. Your mouth hangs open.

“Oh, hello, uh, Lord Th-Thanatos,” you fumble to form coherent words and struggle to keep the shopping bags from falling.

“Do you need a hand?” he forgoes the platitudes, though you see his brows furrow at the title.

“Please. My arms are killing me,” you say and grimace. May the god of death take you, indeed. If you could be less obvious, that would be great. “Figure of speech… sorry.”

Thanatos gives you a look of silent judgement and holds out a hand to help with your burdens. Grateful and biting your tongue to keep more frogs from hopping out, you offer him the bag filled with cleaning products and home textiles.

Poe Dameron (Star Wars) x Reader: Hotline Combo

I swear this has been sitting in the drafts for like 5 years. One day. Set around the Resistance animated series.

“Well, you won’t like it,” you say and let out a short laugh. Kaz shoots a dubious look at you. “I’m here to take you home.”

It’s almost cozy arguing with your younger brother again. It’s not a yelling competition you’re having but an endless circle of animated, pointless arguments and a lot of waving hands. It’s a family trait.

Just before the fourth round starts, the door to Yeager’s office suddenly opens. You don’t know the man who steps inside but your initial thought is damn you’d like to.

Kaz’s face lights up. “Poe?! What’re you doing here?” It’s difficult to say if he or the ball droid is happier to see the guy.

Diluc Ragnvindr (Genshin Impact) x Reader: Wine, Grapes and Fire

I'm ashamed to say that this is like 8.5k long and almost done with a clear plot etc. I just never had the inspiration to actually finish it. Maybe when Mihoyo gives Diluc some love..... Basically you take on a part-time job at Diluc's bar and accidents happen that lead you to discover his secret identity. Diluc is not happy.

Just when you’re ready to start pleading for help, Diluc walks in as if nothing happened and joins you behind the counter.

“How are we doing today?” he asks suspiciously casually. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was behaving apologetic.

“Three Laughter and Cheers to the lady in blue dress and Barbato’s Boon to the gent in green hat,” you say curtly and move past Diluc to gather empty glasses from tables.

You’re almost impressed how quickly Diluc mixes the drinks for the waiting customers and the line by the counter disappears.

“Can we talk now?” he asks half-aloud as you get back.

“Sorry, that’s not on the menu,” you reply with your best customer-service-oriented tone.

He frowns and folds his arms over his chest. The usual black coat lies discarded at the back of the bar again and his biceps are super distracting.

Alhaitham (Genshin Impact) x Reader: How to Distinguish Dreams from Reality: A Study by the Acting Grand Sage

Sumeru lore is so interesting but such a pain. You're Tighnari's cousin and studied together with Alhaitham. When he takes on the job of the acting grand sage, he needs someone to assist him. He totally has no ulterior motives.

“According to this, all extra tasks and their conditions will be agreed to by word of mouth?” you ask. Talk about being lazy in drafting the paper. This sort of thing would not pass in Liyue.

“It’ll keep our options open.” Alhaitham shrugs. “It’s as much for your benefit as it is for mine.”

He is correct, of course, but you don't feel great about agreeing to something without knowing what the “extra” in the job actually entails. You chew your lip, thinking of adding clauses to curb some of the most… colourful work scenarios that could come to pass.

“And this is valid until you return to your work as the Scribe?” you ask slowly. A fixed-term employment and afterwards you will be able to return to your own research.

“In the minimum, yes. There is a high possibility I'll still require an assistant for a time before all matters are settled.”

“I see.” You take refuge from Alhaitham’s stare by reading the contract again.

“Look, with Lesser Lord Kusanali back and several missing Sages, it’s impossible to know what the situation will be even next week in the Akademiya. I trust that we’ll be able to settle any issues that arise within the work matrix,” Alhaitham says confidently.

He sees you still hesitating and you notice an almost imperceptible half-smile on his face. “You won’t have to agree to anything I ask of you outside the regular Scribes tasks,” he says in an overly neutral tone.

“I know,” you reply quickly, biting your lip and still skimming through the short text on the contract. Your free hand automatically moves to pacify your tail from lashing back and forth. Alhaitham’s gaze follows the motion and he clears his throat.

“Ready to sign?” he asks.

Connor | RK800 (Detroit: Become Human) x Reader: Pillow Forts and Chicken Noodle Soup

Human Connor AU, from childhood friends to lovers. Circumstances force you to move in with him and that's good cause there is a lot of flu going around.

“I won,” you declare breathlessly.

Connor snorts. “You literally fell to the floor.”

“Well, I don’t wanna sleep in your bed. God knows what… you’ve…” No, don’t think about him like that. It’s just Connor.

He arches a brow in question, but you stop talking and clear your throat.

“I’m on the couch,” you repeat.

Connor draws in a sigh that doesn’t quite reach the intended exasperation.

“Fine, then. But we could always make a fort and sleep there,” he says in a tone that’s filled with amusement, but there is something else too. Maybe a hint of hopefulness?

As kids, you often used to build pillow forts. Damn, you used to stay nights at each other’s place every week. No wonder everyone asked you if you will marry him when you grow up. The memories warm your cheeks and you smile at Connor.

“Maybe not tonight, but I’ll hold you onto that.”

“You better,” he says and paces off to find sheets for you.

[ryn-halo26]

I'm haunted by AUs so here's another one my brain chucked at me at full speed. This is mostly just copy pasted from my discord rambles. I've dubbed this au "Mad scientist imp!freelancer".

I wanna make an imperium au where Freelancer breaks under the imperium and becomes like a mad scientist researcher at the academy but literally refuses to speak to anyone except for Vindemiator and Lasko (and Huxley and Damien if I bullshit enough)

Maybe Lasko is feeling proud of freelancer for finally seeing what he sees in the imperium (or smth like that idk) and just spoils them with like their own lab and whatever supplies they want and stuff.

Lasko has to personally check up on them bc they'll just yell and throw shit at anyone else that comes knocking on their door (the wall next to their door definitely has holes in them from throwing pens and pencils)

Can and probably will destroy the academy if they don't get to see Vindemiator on a regular basis

I can see mad scientist imp!freelancer and Lasko and the insane amount of knife play intentional or not

They only act like "normal Freelancer" around Vindemiator bc he doesn't have to see the side of them that broke under the imperium and also bc he brings them back to reality (they're soulmates you can pry this from my cold dead hands)

Probably has to be dragged to the cafeteria by Huxley bc I can imagine them overworking themselves on whatever branch of magic they're researching. Screaming profanities while being carried like a log. (and Huxley making sure they actually eat before dragging them back to their lab so they don't hurt any other students)

I want them to terrify other students(and maybe even teachers)

~~And bc my beloved Rak'Xit reborn au is my favourite child, its in this too~~

Bc showers are powerful in giving people ideas, I got a short timeline(?) of events as to how Mad Scientist Imp!Freelancer meets Damien

Rak'Xit reborn au happens

Rak'Xit hides in Freelancer's mind, acting like their subconscious, and only revealing himself when Freelancer starts to suspect him

Freelancer tells Lasko about it (likely not immediately but maybe after a while)

Lasko tells Damien (probably shouldn't hide the fact that someone resurrected a sovereign)

Damien pays Freelancer a visit and asks a few questions(this one I actually have thought of in more detail)

So Damien interrogating Freelancer.

Lasko brings Damien into Freelancer's lab, Lasko tells Freelancer about the interview, they say they'll maybe do it if Lasko increases their visit time with Vindemiator, and he does.

Lasko walks out and Freelancer gives Damien 10 questions he can ask. (I did come up with the entire conversation but in fear of mischaracterisation I didn't write it down)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I probably will come up with more as time goes on but this is what I cooked up for now. Please give me any ideas you have of this

[tarpitbell]

vvvery well then ill come off anon, feel free to block me as you see fit

i said it because even if we dont interact anymore, i hate seeing people get kicked when theyre down. i cant stand bullying and i cant stand condescending bullshit directed at people who dont deserve it. it wasnt a waste of time because any time a person is getting hurt and they dont deserve it, i step in. i dont care if it was my business or not. it wasnt a waste of time because you still deserve to be treated with respect.

ill say it as many times as i have to but you really dont deserve the hatred you receive. everyone in that server kept telling you that we never hated you but you kept believing we did to the point where it felt like you were making us out to be the bad guys. it was incredibly unhealthy on both sides. we hoped that if we just stayed moots with you on tumblr that itd be okay and that you could distance yourself as much as you needed to so that it wouldnt be so overwhelming.

i see that that probably wasnt really issue but possibly several other things. if you want to stop posting content related to alnst then so be it. thats your decision. we will dwell on you because youre an amazing person and there are many fond memories with you and your characters. if you dont want to participate in any of the fan seasons, including sona season, then we will make adjustments for you. whatever you want to do with your characters is completely up to you.

thank you for being a beautiful and wonderful being, and i hope that whatever you choose to do, you do it in good conscience. we dont want to push or annoy you any further than we might be doing (sorry, genuinely. i really do care about you tbf.) but we also just want you to be happy.

/gen, /lh, and /withlove.

- zen (papa, if youre still willing to call me that /nf)

It was you -!!! (Geno sans, CPAU comic dub voice) ((I knew itt.. you do stand up for others and are more vocal about being ..indunno but I guess yk inna way, just the way you typed it (sorry if that's ..weird/creepy), the way that you confront others and such .much braver ig, since you take action a lot))

Sorry for making it seem like I was making y'all the bad guys. Didn't mean to, and honestly shouldn't have done that- that was wrong of me from the start. Though, now I don't think I can remember- well. Given how it was like. Two months ago now? And I do forget a lot so- ...sorry for unfollowing as well (tho I know that no matter the amount of me saying sorry will ever fix things up since I avoid what happened/etc..)

I don't really think I can stop posting alnst/alnst oc content. I'm in too deep, in three gc (AREPH, Setup and Takedown, and then Toxic ysosu)— I have an Au (you probably know or maybe not; Sonic.exe like au, I'm mainly focusing on the hypothetical 3d game in the universe that happens in 2035, called Mor. I remember asking you for permission, but then again.. gah. Fucking sorry for putting onna invisible time limit to the question, as said- for almost everything I've done since I was in the series(what I call servers now) and out of it.... Though you did say we don't talk anymore, and so like. Yeah- haven't answered my question- tho ITS TOTALLY NORMAL! FINE! Just slightly weird?? That like. Just recently you came here to like. Ig cheer me up? When I was "kicked down even more". Tho it is .you. You did say that you can't stand what they have said to me and what/who they were referring to, which is interesting but I won't bother you with anything i have to say) — I still have a lot more to show (so many hidden characters and hidden lore) and post,, and I've been going back to writing like. Flor's lore, and getting some basic ideas down. Besides, I still can't stop thinking of the ocs and such.. as ..said..... I'm in too deep (was basically here from the start.. before s39 was even s39.....ah..kills the wall). And it's not leaving me anytime soon, since I always have thoughts- ideas and such. <- this is what 50+ OCS does to a person

I still have OCS, in the seasons. I still have OCS I want to work on and expand on.

Besides, Eddy and Sebastian have a very close bond. Flor, Oli, Dian, Faisal, and their other siblings are well. Siblings. Four of them don't belong to me. I have OCS in romantic relationships with others, and all of that. I can't just .. abandon it all honestly.

For the Sona Season, I think I'm like. Basically disqualified though? Before I did whatever I did, I kinda did ask to be in round1 so things can end faster for my sona. But then again. <- is a whiny person. <- impatience, which is wrong. <- generally a ""ugly"" one. So I just decided to do what I did in the server basically— and just leave the Garden & Stage thing. ..tbh I did do a song-comic, but I doubt you want to see anything I do now (NOT trying to make you see what I do. Waste of time. And again in the previous ask you sent you used past tance and so that practically means that we are thru, huh? Along with us not talking to each other besides those two asks you sent to this blog..along with the Seb song. But I don't think that you and the others don't want to touch anything made by me or are related to me! Which I totally get)

You all have NEVER annoyed me or pushed me, at all (only ever asked me for some small things, or actually nothing at all). IM the one who's annoyed and pushed you all (too many ideas, too many posts I've tagged as ocs- I've tagged y'all in, etc etc. basically at those times and still now, it's just me talking to a wall). It's.. stupid to apologize for what I've been doing the most.

Also don't .. apologize for caring actually. I don't know what to say, or have anything to say besides that.. still can't fucking believe that you are still. That you still allow me the chance to call you papa...stupid of me to have mentally clocked the community as a family(ish?only a few) to me. since it ended up with me being .not continuing that sentence. but yeah, really stupid of me to have you all as family when we ended up like this.which is unhealthy as you said! What type of friendship is like person A: your my friend! / Person B: (you are like a sibling to me. You are family.) ???? Certainly not a working healthy one. Because I became so very impulsive when .not finishing that either.

[shotmrmiller]

(this is NOT a request) would you post other ppl's fic ideas? i have a royalty!au fic ideea where the reader is queen and one of the boys is a member of the queen's guard and they are in a secret relationship. i cannot write but i love royalty aus so if anyone likes this idea, feel free to use it as you want. again, this is not a request, i think this is called a prompt and i have so many but i never post them (should i make a blog abt it??? idk) but heyyy i think you're super cool and i love spending a tooootally normal amount of my time scrolling down your blog so i thought you wouldn't shame me asxmcksff jk jk ^^/

do you ever read fics with au settings with the boys or only codverse?

i love you and ideas in here are always welcome!!!! god knows i haven't the brain capacity to make shit up on my own. in all honesty, as of late, i haven't read dick from anyone but i read anything~ i'm not picky in AU or OOC or whatever, i read all of it (so long the spelling isn't completely in the gutter, hello ff . net)

and totally make a blog for it!! it's the reason i started! if you u haven't read what you want, then write it :>

[carsonian]

Steve/Tony fic recs | theme: "SOFT"

I've read a decent number of SteveTony fics and I wanted to give an indecent amount of love back to the writers who put out such gawrjus pieces. The theme for this list is "SOFT" in capital letters because it's not your average erectile-dysfunction soft but some real silk-scarf soft shit. You know, the classics: the diabetic stuff, the ooey-gooey stuff, the puddle of feelings stuff...

Now I don't want NOBODY saying, girl, I've read that, are you being for real? Because guess what? I am always being for real and these fics are real, and you can always re-read them. So spread the love. Respect!

"There's an App for That" by Annie D (scaramouche) (@no-gorms) - I know you're looking at me and saying, aight look Carsonian, whatchu takin me for? You think I'm some greenhorn mark to put down a flag for SteveTony witout cracking Annie D's stash three times whole? Well, to that I raise: my glass. Cuz samesies. But truuuuust me, this fic is worth the re-read. It is a stroke of genuine AU brilliance that doesn't get the hype it deserves (a billion kudos of hype pls!). Super solid set-up, refreshingly quick lines, the kind of easygoing falling together that is just jazzy to relish. This fic is like a date with an almond huddled inside. Sweet and mushy but with a surprisingly solid bite at its core. Summary goes:

Thanks to the modern gig economy, Steve is the successful owner of a break-up service, i.e. people pay him to break up with their partners for them. One day, he gets the first break-up request for Tony Stark.

😏 Uh-huh. Oh okay. Meet-awkwuuurd time. J.A.R.V.I.S., cue up "Start of Something New" by HSM. 😏

"The First Time I Went Dancing Sober" by schemingreader - This fic is like good wine; it ages like a beauty. This month will make it ten (10!!!) years since it was published but by God does it hold up. It holds me up. Like a firm but comfortable back brace. Summary goes:

Steve Rogers is a great physical therapist who works with sick kids. Tony Stark is a damaged biotech engineering genius who really wants to be one of the good guys.

You.... you know the vibes, don't you? You--uh, you catch the flow? Yeah, you do. C'mon, read this fic and give me a hug, brother. I'll clasp you close and whisper homoerotic sweet-nothings into your ear while we hug, partner. It'll be silly romantic, bro.

"we pick ourselves undone" by laramara (@commandersteverogers) - Another old-but-gold fic. Hang on, read the summary first:

It might appear that award-winning surgeon Tony Stark, the head of neurosurgery at Shield Hospital, well and truly has his life together. Now if he could only figure out how to tell people that his father, world class neurosurgeon Howard Stark, is locked away in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s, devise a way to get Chief Fury off his back for good, and work out what the hell he’s going to do about the weird on-again-off-again thing he has going with the head of cardio, he’d finally have everything sorted.

Now that's what I'm motherfucking talking about. This fic is also ten years old et voilà: a certified historical moment. When I first read this, I thought about quitting fic writing; it's that good. And then I re-read it and life was okay again. Tee El Dee Arr: I want to give this fic a smooch on the mouth and a sincere insurance plan.

"for better or for worse" by earliebirb (@earliebirb) - This is the fic you re-read when you want to remember why you're into Steve/Tony. It's iddy, it's tender, it's achey but beyond all a that, it's SOFT. Soft like whipped cream. Soft like a vanilla ice cream milkshake. Soft like Tony's tush and Steve's tits. R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Summary goes:

Sitting quietly like this, Tony can almost pretend that nothing has happened, that this is just another normal day of Steve waking up in bed next to him. Married and in love with no threat of divorce looming on the horizon. Of course, that is before he catches sight of Steve’s bereft ring finger. He wonders how long it has been since Steve’s ring finger is empty. He wonders if he should start taking off his own, too. He wonders if Steve wants him to take it off.

I know, I know, you're going: Carsonian, wyot the hell, this sounds like angsty stuff. Shhh. Shhhhh. Shhh. I'll get my hand off your mouth just as soon as you start listening. Sport, this is the ooey-gooey stuff. All of the angst is the hot chocolate fudge. It's what makes the milkshake so bloody damn good. Now get da fuck outta here and read this fic!!! Or re-read this fic!!! It's worth it! (Just like Steve & Tony's relationship in the fic, shhh no spoilers.)

Warmest and Brightest by ishipallthings (@ishipallthings) - Naww shuddup I don't want to hear any accusations of favouritism. Yeah I think Jen is aces, but I'm not speaking from a place of bias when I say her fics are aces too. It has been scientifically proven. By Tony. And me. Here's the source. Also, I read this WAYYYY back when, and put it down in my list as "sitcom/hallmark set up with stevetony charm". So if you're into that, you know what to do. And if you're not into that, get da fuck outta here!!! You can not NOT be into that. Okay but if you're seriously not into that, no judgement. Okay, a little judgement. With 100% love. Summary goes:

It’s Christmas Eve, and Tony’s supposed to be getting decorations ready for his and Rhodey’s Christmas bash in their new apartment. Instead, he’s stuck in an elevator with the hot guy from 12A Steve, who doesn’t seem to be in much of a festive mood. It turns out to be a bit of a holiday miracle.

Y'know what else is a miracle? How I got through this fic without kicking my feet up like a gleeful teen in a 2000s romcom. Y'know what else? I totally didn't get through this fic without doing that. Maybe the miracle is in the friends we made along the way 🧑‍🤝‍🧑(that's me n u, babey, holding hands as we watch Steve and Tony debate superior rom-coms into a relationship).

"One Last Christmas" by Captain_Panda - Speakin' of Xmas miracles, here's another fic that is super soft and set during the Christmas holiday period. And YEAH I'll admit it FINE FINE. I'm deffo playing favourites here....but as we all know, I am a Captain_Panda fan first 😤❗, a SteveTony fic enthusiast second. Respect!!! Summary goes:

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. The year is 2012. Cuddly-as-a-cactus Tony Stark is throwing a Christmas party for his fellow Avengers. It's all going really well--except for Tony, who is quietly succumbing to his own demons.

You see how the summary says "cuddly-as-a-cactus"? Well, it don't matter because the fic will cuddle you anyway. Tony gets cuddles, we get cuddles, the world gets a cuddle. It's all cuddles in here and you best believe I'm weeping at the slumber party. In this fic, the world is soft and rough-edged and love is worth losing for. It's beautiful. Gawly I'm weeping again. Last time I read this fic, I wrote this in my comment and it still holds true.

And that's all she w"rec"ked!

Go forth: SteveTony lovers, fuckers, ambassadors, champions, perverts, freaks, losers, dreamers, legends! Read, re-read, kudo, comment, spread legs and spread love.