#I’ll give him a character tag when I decide

[wispstalk]

wip wednesday

been tagged by various people over the past few weeks and didn't have much to share but now y'all get...

🚨🚨 IDLE IN THEIR THRONES SECRET BONUS CHAPTER 🚨🚨 i'm editing a version of my fic for my man, bc he wants to read my shit. but the problem is that my intended audience for the Oblivion fic is "people who have played oblivion" which he has not.

I made some mostly-minor changes to contextualize events/characters but Tanis's university B-plot warranted another chapter. Includes one microfic I've already posted, but the rest is new. fair warning: 4k words under the cut. tagging everyone who tagged me: @nuwanders @jiubilant @dirty-bosmer @sylvienerevarine @ehlnofay @everybodyknows-everybodydies (and a special shoutout to Talviel because I referenced her menus for the last section)

--

“Impressive, Apprentice!” Julienne Fanis, the Master Alchemist, watches with delight as the angry weal on Tanis’s neck smooths and seals over. “Sorry, Journeyman, isn’t it? Now that you have your staff. Traven ought to have bumped you up a few ranks after what you went through to get it…”

Tanis makes a noncommittal noise. He had thought, perhaps stupidly, that being ambushed by necromancers was only a test of his mettle. Only when he made an offhand remark to Delmar, the Master Enchanter, did the Elder Council fly into a flurry. The University has been abuzz ever since, and Tanis attracts stares everywhere he goes.

He rubs at the healed cut, which has begun to itch with a fury. “Trouble with spiddal stick,” he says, “is that it burns out the infection, and then keeps burning. But I thought with a pinch of frost salts—”

“Ah, but the cost…” Julienne’s eyes widen as Tanis produces a sizeable jar of salts. “Well! If we must be plagued with these Oblivion gates, I should count myself blessed to have a student bold enough to enter them.”

He offers her a half-grin and pinches some salt into his calcinator. “Or mad enough to go flower-picking in the Deadlands.”

“Well, should you decide the frost salts aren’t worth the risk, I’d try lady’s smock leaves. That ought to counteract the irritation.” She regards him, head cocked. “You seem to have a talent for healing. I’m more inclined to banecraft, myself, but I try to make my students understand that it’s not so different, is it? Here you’ve just made a healing salve from a poisonous flower.”

Yena would like this woman. “Just toyed around with it and got lucky. I’d like to learn more. Who’s the Master Restorationist here?”

Julienne gives him a strange look. “The University does not have a Master Restorationist. I teach apprentices how to make basic restoratives, and the Master Alterationist covers spellwork. But if you’re looking to further your studies, there is always work in the infirmary. I could have a word with the chief medic.”

Tanis blinks up at her. Yena would really like this woman. That was all the old witch ever wanted for him— a life as a healer. He wrote her off, could never tolerate working in a temple, but perhaps here…

“Excuse me, Master Fanis.” The reedy voice of a young woman cuts through the workroom. “Master Polus has requested Tanis Irathi’s presence in the tower lobby.” The grey-robed assistant does not wait for a response, but only ducks her head and shuffles out.

Tanis raises an eyebrow. Julienne Fanis gives him a tight smile. “One of Raminus’s little errands, no doubt.”

“Can’t it wait?” Tanis complains, and moderates the heat beneath his calcinator.

“You’d best go. Your reduction won’t go to waste, I’ll finish it.” Julienne sighs as she glances around the workroom. “I do hope you’ll keep attending lectures. I lose some of my most promising alchemists this way. The Council tends to take notice of mages with… certain skills.”

She throws a look at his swordbelt, slung over the edge of the worktable. He has, perhaps, made himself stand out. No one else wears a weapon around campus, unless he counts staves. And after what he went through to earn his, he paid the Master Enchanter to tip it with an ebony spearhead.

He leaves Julienne to experiment with his cache of Daedric ingredients, and makes for the tower.

—

Two days later, Tanis storms into the tower lobby, saddlesore and filthy with road dust. Raminus looks up at his arrival, and his face turns white when Tanis slaps a book down on his desk.

“You sent me after a book,” Tanis says, low and menacing. “So here is a book.”

“Er, Tanis, there—” Raminus clears his throat. “There was never any book.”

“There was never any book,” Tanis agrees.

“The Goblin with the Golden Arm,” Raminus reads from the cover. “Ah. A fiction. Consider your point made, mage.”

Tanis hadn’t put quite that much thought into it; he picked this one off the shelf because he liked the illustrations. “Give me that,” he snaps, and snatches it from Raminus’s hands. “So. What the fuck?”

Raminus takes off his spectacles and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I’m truly sorry for the lie. Our relationship with the Count is tenuous at best, and Traven thought that sending a high-ranking official to Skingrad would alert the necromancers to our presence and drive them underground. After how capably you handled the necromancers that attacked you among the stave-trees, we thought you a good candidate for this mission.”

Praise, Tanis notes with annoyance, does soften his outrage. “Well, it’s done.”

“Please, tell me everything that happened.”

“Well, to start with, you told me to retrieve a book in the Count’s possession, so I rode all the way to fucking Skingrad, and—”

“I haven’t forgotten, Tanis. Just tell me what you found.”

Tanis had visited the castle once before, when he and Coradri closed the Oblivion gate outside Skingrad’s walls. He had known that Count Janus Hassildor was unlikely to grant him audience. But the castle steward, Mercator, was notably more unfriendly when Tanis identified himself as a representative of the mages guild.

Mercator informed him that the Count would meet him after dark, north of the mineshaft outside the city walls. So, after sharing a few rounds with the patrons at the West Weald Inn, Tanis made his way there.

“It was a trap,” Tanis tells Raminus. “Mercator and two of his friends met me instead. Summoned wraiths from thin air, cast a silence spell over me, and attacked.”

“My word, this is worse than we thought.” Raminus’s expression grows grave. “The Count sent him to kill you?”

No, Tanis continues, the Count arrived just as Tanis finished them off. Janus Hassildor was white with fury, or so Tanis thought— then he caught the strange glow to his eyes, his sallow cheeks. The flash of long canines as he gave Tanis an earful.

I suspected Mercator was involved with the necromancers, Hassildor said, but I would not move against him without knowing the identities of his allies. Despite what your Council may think, I would never throw in with such a cult.

“And he told me,” Tanis concludes, “the next time you want something from him, you come yourselves.”

“I see.” Raminus sighs and rubs at his jaw as he takes it in. “Tanis, please believe me when I say it was never the Council’s intention to put you in harm’s way.”

“Oh, piss off with that. I was four beers deep and had no fucking clue what was going on, but those three couldn’t have left a scratch on me.”

The Master Wizard lets out a humorless huff of laughter. “In any case, we are aware of Count Hassildor’s… condition… but it isn’t public knowledge. For that reason I didn’t share what we knew with you. We will not make that mistake again. And if Hassildor shares in our suspicions about this burgeoning cult, perhaps we can count him among our allies.”

Tanis folds his arms, skeptical. “And you lot aren’t worried that a vampire—”

“He hides his nature well, though he can’t hide it from the Council of Mages. We’ve come to certain accords. And if those agreements are strained of late, the fault doesn’t lie with you.”

“No shit.”

“You’ve done the guild a great service,” Raminus says. “And for that, you earn the rank of Evoker.”

Tanis blinks. While he grasps for something to say, Raminus unlocks the cabinet behind his desk, and comes around with something glittering in his fists. A silver chain with a pendant of citrine, carved with twin hands and the Eye of Magnus. When Tanis takes it into his palm, he senses the warding spell enchanted within it.

“Again, you have my apologies.” Raminus inclines his head. “I will speak to the Council.”

It bothers Tanis to find himself placated by this. Promote him, bestow some magical trinket on him, and he will gladly continue being a useful idiot for the guild. At least, he hopes, the Council will see fit to use their idiot well.

—

“Explain to me,” Tanis says, watching the ghost of his ancestor swoop and howl through the practice room, “how this doesn’t count as necromancy.”

Anaht’s nictitating membranes slide over her eyes in exasperation. “You do not want to get into this with me.”

“Don’t tell me what I want to get into,” he insists, and releases his focus, letting the restive shade return to the other side of the veil. “Say I’m attacked— bandits on the road, say, and say I kill the first one and make him get up and defend me against his fellow rogues and blaggards. That’s beyond the pale, and if I’m caught Traven throws me out on my ass.”

Her tail swishes with impatience. “Those are the rules, yes.”

“But dredging up my pissed-off card out of the ash is fine, and conjuring daedra— daedra, when they’re running thick as rabbits in the countryside— that’s all well and good.”

“Odd for you to be beating the moral drum,” Anaht says finely, “when I happen to know from Proctor Renault that you put your cohort to shame during the conjuration practical. A flame atronach, no less, while the rest of them were nearly bursting blood vessels just to call up a scamp.”

“Morals?” Tanis blinks. “Who the fuck said anything about morals? I’m a lout with a sword who does what I’m bid. It’s just that I can’t make heads nor tails of how you wizards think.”

Anaht relaxes then. “You will find,” she says, sweeping an arm for him to follow her out of the room, “that if there is a single thing that all wizards think, it is that we agree on nothing.”

In the Archives they find Tar-Meena, harried, drawing one claw down a list of requisitions, muttering to herself. “I need the key to the incinerator,” Anaht announces to the Master Archivist.

Tar-Meena throws Tanis a dubious glance, and speaks to Anaht in Jel, unaware that Tanis can parse it. “You are taking that one? Raminus’s hunter?”

“He was my hunter first,” Anaht sniffs, "and like any good hunter he knows when to be quiet."

With a skeptical lift of the brow ridge, Tar-Meena hands over a jangling ring of keys and returns to her work. Anaht leads him through the darkness and hush of the stacks, all the way to the end of the maze of shelves, to an unassuming heavy door.

More crammed bookshelves, to no one’s surprise. Sealed off from the carefully-controlled environment of the stacks, there is a window letting in the afternoon light, and a large round table scattered with a half-finished card game, books and papers, a mug of cold coffee dregs. It seems this vault of forbidden knowledge serves as a sort of employee break room.

No fires to be found, though, not so much as a reedlight. Like the stacks, this room is only to be lit by spell, with polished steel sconces on the wall to reflect the mage-glow.

“Why’s it called the incinerator?” he asks, drawing his reading glasses from his pocket.

“Yes, Arch-Mage,” Anaht says, taking a posture of mock obeisance. “We've found another treatise on the Black Arts, and we'll throw it straight in the fires.”

On the shelf before him, a veritable buffet of taboo: Necromancer’s Moon, Pathway to Lichdom. A journal purported to be authored by the Wolf Queen Potema. Even a title written in Dunmeris, On the Veneration and Summoning of Ancestor Guardians. The very spell he’d just opened his palm and offered his blood to learn.

And, tacked to one corner of the shelving timbers, a small folio: The Black Arts on Trial, by Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven.

“In the interest of being even-handed. A little joke among the scrivs,” Anaht says by way of explanation, then nudges him aside with her hip. “Now move, you big oaf, and let me look for something.”

He takes the folio with him and settles down at the table. The contents of this inflammatory writ are oft-bandied on the University grounds, but he’s never gotten around to reading it, what with all the… everything else.

While he reads, Anaht waltzes around the room, her tail jewelry jangling, occasionally plucking a book like a choice pear and stacking it on her arm.

“This gra-Kogg makes a lot of sense,” he says, holding a finger to mark his place. “Actually think her arguments were better than this other fella’s, but Traven’s conclusion doesn't consider her at all. Why include the debate, then?”

“Keep reading.” Anaht does not look back, but the tip of her tail shakes with mild amusement.

“Oh,” he says, squinting down at the afterword. “Reckon I ought to have seen that coming.”

“These will get you started.” Anaht drops her books to the table with a heavy thump, and delicately pats the top of the stack. Tanis grumbles; there has to be a dozen of them, and he’s already up to his ears in daedric research and work in the infirmary.

She perches lightly in the chair to his left. “Yes, Master gra-Kogg was a necromancer,” she says, and folds her jeweled claws beneath her chin. “But?”

“But,” he sighs, now seeing the point of that menacing bookpile, “that doesn’t make her wrong. Raminus has me running all over Cyrodiil flushing them out of their dens, but I don’t know a damn thing about how to fight them. Can’t interrupt their casting, can’t tell what they’re calling up, don’t know what they’re after.”

“If you insist on being the Council’s hunting dog, I will not have you go forth unprepared.” She taps the silvery-thin scar on the side of his neck, the one he’d earned while ambushed in Wellspring Grove, collecting wood for his mage’s staff. “So long as Traven invites the necromancers' wrath, we archivists will maintain this bulwark against them.”

“Oh, I'm sure it's all very noble."

She ignores the barb, tucking the books in her striped haversack and foisting it on him to carry. “Now come. Let us go to the King and Queen. You owe me dinner.”

Tanis follows her out the door. "What for?"

She swats at him with her tail. “You think I do all this tutoring for free?”

—

After dinner, he sees Anaht back to the University grounds and makes his way to Luther’s boarding house. Coradri is waiting for him in the common room, bouncing off the walls in her effort to rush him right back out the door.

“Good, you’re already dressed for dinner,” she says, breathless. “We have to get to the Tiber Septim Hotel now.”

“I just fucking— the Tiber? Are you trying to bleed me dry?” He lets himself be towed down the street, then digs in his heels. “The plaza district’s the other way, s’wit.”

“Ugh! This city is so big and stupid,” Coradri says with some venom, and steers him in the opposite direction. “Listen, it’s almost ninth bell and we have to hurry. I might have agreed to a private audience with the High Chancellor on your behalf.”

“It better be on his drake, then.” He looks askance at her— dressed in a billowy silk tunic, soft buckskin trousers, and an embroidered vest. “I see you’ve been helping yourself to my purse.”

“I knew you wouldn’t mind.” She dips into a little curtsy. “Can’t show up dressed like some Colovian poacher, can I?”

“You look nice,” he admits grudgingly, and they pass through the gates of the Talos Plaza district.

This part of the city is far more palatial than the Elven Gardens, where they have taken up residence for the past several weeks. The people who stroll the streets are aristocrats by their dress and bearing, and the ancient Ayleid architecture has been well-maintained.

Coradri walks into the sumptuous hotel as if she does this sort of thing all the time. The host identifies them as the Chancellor’s guests, and leads them away from the common dining room to a private balcony overlooking the square.

“Good sir. My lady.” The host drops into a deep bow. “Chancellor Ocato sent a page ahead to inform us that he has been delayed in Council deliberations, but will arrive shortly. He has requested that we bring out the first course while you wait, and a bottle of his favored wine— Tamika’s 415 vintage.”

A serving boy lays out plates of charred fennel and horse carpaccio. The host presents the bottle laid across her arm, then pops the cork in one deft motion and offers it to Tanis.

He takes it, baffled. The porter beams expectantly at him. “Ah, thanks,” he says. “That’ll… be all.”

Coradri erupts into laughter once the servers leave. “You’re supposed to sniff the cork.”

“How d’you know things like that?” Tanis rubs at his temples and stares at the spread before them. “Damn you, scribling. I split a slaughterfish pie with Anaht just before you dragged me here.”

“Tough luck,” Coradri says through a mouthful. “Have at the wine, then. I don’t want any.”

“And I’m already drunk,” he sighs, and pours himself a mug.

“You won’t have to talk much. You were too busy with your studies, so I went to the Elder Council without you. Waved Jauffre’s writ around a lot. Said I was a real Blade. Told them about Brother Martin, even. They won’t send us any legionnaires, I already know that, but I’m not giving up.”

“Fuck me.” Tanis takes a long drink. The wine— there is no other way he can put it— tastes expensive. It blooms at the back of his throat, deep and rich and mellow. “At least the wine’s good.”

“So’s the food,” she says, and reaches for another slice of horsemeat. “I’ve never had anything like this.”

Despite himself, he samples a bite from each platter. “Tell you what, let’s make a pact: after we win the priest his throne, may we never piss him off. Once I see how they live in the White-Gold Tower, I won’t want to go back.”

“Arensha,” she grins. “Do you think we’ll leave for the temple soon?”

“Ah… Raminus wants me to check in on some researchers. They’re excavating a ruin near Cheydinhal. But I can probably slip off after that. We could go there, take the Blue Road back. You getting bored while I’m playing at being a scholar?”

“No. I find plenty to do in this big, stupid city.” She props her chin on her hand and gives him a searching look. “But I miss Brother Martin. Don’t you?”

Tanis narrowly avoids choking on his wine. Just then, Ocato sweeps in, with a trail of attendants behind him, and burbles out apologies while dismissing his retinue with a wave.

The second course, a creamed nettle soup, arrives on the table just as the wizened, willowy Altmer settles into his seat. He greets them graciously and calls for more wine.

Tanis learned his etiquette from frequenting Cyrod merchants; whether it's tea or a full banquet, negotiation will not commence until all parties have sated themselves. Ocato makes polite conversation about the city’s various pleasure gardens and noteworthy watering holes, with Coradri’s occasional interjections to egg him on.

When the final course is cleared— a good two hours later— the real discussion begins. Ocato tents his fingers and looks to Coradri.

“I’ve kept you quite long,” he says, “but of course you didn’t come to the city to drink wine and listen to me blather on, so perhaps we can discuss the matter at hand.”

“Of course we can,” Coradri says. “And I hope the Chancellor will forgive us bringing him out so late, after working so tirelessly in the Council chambers.”

Tanis takes a long draught of wine to stifle a snort. Where does she get this shit?

“Nothing to forgive, of course,” Ocato says with a stately nod. "Your pleas before the Council haven't fallen on hard hearts, I hope you understand."

“The legion can’t be spared, I know, but of course the Chancellor agrees that the safety of the heir is important.”

“The utmost,” Ocato says gravely. “And of course I see the urgency of your request, but the generals simply will not divert the Legion.” He leans in and speaks lowly. “It’s no secret that the ranks have thinned since this crisis began. The Imperial Army has already pulled forces from the provinces, and that may yet cost us. Word has reached us of gates as far-flung as Black Marsh and Skyrim.”

“Of course we understand,” Coradri says. “I mean no insult to the Empire, Chancellor, but Irathi here is a legion in one. Six gates opened outside the cities, you’ll remember, and he closed each of them alone.”

Tanis opens his mouth to protest— Coradri had been with him outside Chorrol and Skingrad— but she stomps on the toe of his boot, the universal sign to shut the fuck up.

“Many of the counts and countesses have written to the Council of your deeds.” Ocato nods in Tanis’s direction. “And of course the whole of Cyrodiil is grateful for your protection. Quite a feat for one man alone.”

“In some ways, it makes him more effective,” Coradri says. “Irathi can move independently. Of course the Elder Council would have responded, we all believe that, but I imagine it would take some time to move enough forces to all six cities?”

“Of course,” Ocato agrees, then shakes his head. “With fourteen of us, the deliberations can go on for— well, I don’t have to tell you, do I? Once again, I do hope you can forgive my late arrival.”

“Of course we do,” Coradri says. “We wait at the Chancellor’s pleasure. The Mythic Dawn may not do the same, but no harm will come to the heir so long as Bruma is defended. And the Hero of Kvatch” —she gestures grandly to Tanis— “is the future Emperor’s own sworn sword.”

“You are the Hero of Kvatch?” Ocato’s eyebrows shoot near up to his hairline. “Of course! Who else could withstand such a trial? Then the Empire has you to thank not only for the security of its cities, but for its heir.”

With his hands under the table, Tanis has been counting off on his fingers. If they say it one more time, he’ll have a perfect round dozen. He likes his lucky numbers.

“Of course,” Ocato says thoughtfully, “as emissaries of the Blades, the council could grant you substantial resources in the army’s stead.”

“As an emissary of the Blades,” Coradri says smoothly, “I can assure you we would put them to good use.”

Ocato clasps his hands together. “It may take some doing— you’ve seen how the Council sessions can drag on— but consider it done. And I expect the Imperial battlemages would be quite interested to know how one man has come to run courses around them.”

A silence falls. Ocato regards Tanis with keen eyes, and Coradri gives him a small secretive smile.

“You… want me to tell you how I close the gates.”

“How you survive them,” Ocato says with a sudden fervor. “How you manage it alone.”

Gold— that’s what Ocato means by substantial resources. Enough for arms, for mounts, for mercenaries, and all he has to do is get to the other end of a story.

Tanis spreads his hands. “Of course.”

[achillestheartist]

What’s this? It’s a two for one special of

Protagonist Portrait

That’s right. I’ll be talking about two characters today instead of just one. One of these characters is one some of you may already be familiar with.

Meet Percy and Wolfie

(Just to note: A small part of Wolfie’s story is him choosing his name. Wolfie is the nickname that he goes by until then so that’s why his name is in quotation marks.)

Percy

Pronouns: (He/They)

Story: Wannabe Lost Boy

Bio:

Percy has always wanted a friend. Unfortunately, Neverland isn’t the best place to find friendship. To make matters worse, Percy’s parents have a strong distrust of the Lost Boys, just about the only other kids Percy’s age. Needless to say, Percy was resigned to loneliness.

That was until they found a lost kid. A boy who actually wanted to be his friend. But as Percy starts to get roped into adventures with the Lost Boys, he learns a family secret that might paint a target on his back.

Wolfie

Pronouns: (He/Him)

Story: Wolf Freak

Bio:

Wolfie is an Anifigura, a being who can shift between human and animal form. Unfortunately, where he’s from, Anifigura aren’t well liked. So when Wolfie gets a chance to join a crew of Sky Pirates, he takes it. However, Wolfie’s past comes back to bite him both in the form of some former friends, and a very pissed off shark.

Author/Artist Commentary:

That’s right! For all three of you who remember and care: Wannabe Lost Boy is not dead. It’s just going under some serious rewrites.

The old foundation was more like a carpet draped over a massive plot hole. Surprise, Surprise, when I built a story on top of it, it collapses. So I’m laying down a proper foundation this time.

Regardless, Percy and Wolfie are characters I’ve had for around five years at this point and they are both very precious to me. I can’t wait to share their stories.

[zhongrin]

honey, can you… oh shit wait i forgot we’re not dating (yet)

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, fluff, non-established relationship, potential secondhand embarrassment, boyfailure neuvillette (/aff)

✼ a/n ┈ zhongrin uploaded 3 weeks in a row?! madness!!! utter madness!!!! /silly i feel like i've been writing too much cutesy/sfw stuff lately.... i want to write 'darker' types of stuff but my brain doesn't seem to want to cooperate ugh pain

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

zhongli watches your reaction closely, at first.

when he deduces that you were self-aware of your own oversight and are evidently panicking about it, he gives you a warm chuckle and shakes his head gently, “there is no need to apologize, and please do not feel mortified in any way. it really is fine.”

if you continue to not believe him, the ex-archon will be as patient as ever with his words of reassurances, and he does not mind repeating them until you feel comfortable enough to ask him the real errand that you wished to bestow upon him.

... but not before he gently places a hand to the small of your back to lead you to walk a little closer to him due to the increasing crowd on the streets, his voice a tender caress to your ear, “coming from you, i certainly did not mind the nickname.”

al haitham raises his eyebrows and shuts his book, “what a fascinating blunder. is that how you view our relationship subconsciously? or perhaps it’s an innate desire you’ve chosen to suppress but accidentally slipped out in a moment of unawareness?”

the scholar has the decency to wait for your answer betwixt your embarrassment, but he eventually sighs when you failed to form a coherent answer that satisfied his inquiries.

“you seem to have the impression that i am displeased at your err. i’d like to inform you that your assumption is yet another mistake - which, i would theorize, was made in the rush of the moment as your nervous system kicks into gear, therefore clouding your judgement. i would suggest you take a few moments to reanalyze my stance based on this new information. i’ll wait.”

and with that, he opens his book once more.

.... um.

congratulations, i guess?

wriothesley takes the opportunity and replies with a cheeky, “yes, honey? what can i do for you, sweetheart?”

he relishes in the utter embarrassment that quickly spread across your face that’s akin to water faced with his cryo elemental energy (though secretly he’s also dying inside at the cheesiness of the situation) and throws you a boyish grin before ruffling your hair.

not a man to let an opportunity escape, the duke decides to leverage the moment to take his metaphorical shot and goes immediately for a straight jab, like an experienced boxer that he is, all the while praying to the hydro archon so that this would be yet another match he could flawlessly win, “you know, my schedule’s particularly relaxed today… i wouldn’t mind staying longer if you want to make it a date?”

neuvillette blinks owlishly, his pale cheeks blooming with warmth as the situation starts to sink in. you, the apple of his eye, whom he treasured dearly and had taken great care to court, had just called him with a term of endearment that he had always dreamed of hearing.

wait, was this a dream? his gloved hands quickly found purchase on his blue horns, before he brought his hands in front of his eyes. okay, he had two horns and ten fingers, still. so he must not have daydreamed this. ah- wait, you’re staring at him. oh, now you’re giggling. and now you’re calling him silly. oh, it should be a crime to be so breathtakingー

it’s not until your expression changed into surprise that he realized he had said that thought outloud.

your teasing “if it’s a crime, are you going to put me on trial, monsieur?” elicits a darker blush on his pale cheeks and an awkward cough out of him.

.... this must be how the young ones flirt nowadays.

“perhaps after a proper date? if it’s not impertinent of me, may i be allowed to take you out on dinner tonight?”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ INKED. featuring s. geto.

↻ geto enjoys his job for this exact reason… he gets to give pretty girls like you your first ever tattoo.

tags : tattoos, slight masochism, dirty thoughts, suggestive actions, possessive behaviour, tattoo artist x florist trope, voice kink, dirty talk, praise kink, latex kink (if you squint), implied fingering, marking (literally and figuratively), implied virgin!reader, slight dubcon // wc. 1.1k

author's note : the longest one of the series… and possibly the longest author’s note too. i want to thank everyone who’s supported me throughout this event from the day i released the masterlist all the way up until the last work today!! i know i’ve said that every one of these have been my favourite but why not save the best ‘til last… this very specific image of geto haunts my (wet) dreams 🤤🤤 thank you again for all the support, because of you guys, i managed to go from 200 to over 900 followers !! 💓💓 i can’t thank you more, and i hope you enjoy this last work. this has been luna, and thank you for reading!!

pspsps …. you might want to stick around for my upcoming kinktober. it’s going to be a thriller…

“i would’ve never striked you as the type to want a tattoo, sweetie.” GETO looks at you over the frame of his glasses, eyebrow quirked as he confirms your appointment on his laptop. “and especially not one of this… calibre. is it your first time?”

you nod shyly, eyes averting from his gaze. he looks at the sheet of paper with your desired design on it, and the corners of his lips quirk upwards. a tramp stamp. totally not your type upon first glance. 

he’s looking forward to this. 

you’re a sweet enough girl. you wear denim miniskirts and baggy floral t-shirts, and your face is almost always bare, save for a few coats of mascara on your eyelashes and the occasional touch of lip gloss to make your features pop. you work in the flower shop across the street, and the only way geto can describe you is cute, and definitely not the type to want such a striking design tattooed on your lower back. it’s in such an intimate position, and he can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous for the lucky fucker who gets to run their hands all over it whilst he-

“it’s not too… extreme, is it?” you bite your lip nervously. “my friends told me that i should do something out of my comfort zone, so…”

he tears his eyes away from the sheet of paper to look up at you kindly. “it’s beautiful. come this way, we’ll get started now.”

“since it’s your first time, i’ll try to take things slow.” you’re lying flat on your front on the table, skirt pulled down an inch and shirt riding up your stomach. geto stands beside you, rolling up his sleeves and donning his latex gloves before prepping the stencil. 

you have such pretty skin, he notes. beautiful and untouched, with such a pretty arch in your spine. he would’ve loved to imagine you positioned like this in different circumstances, but for now, he’s your tattoo artist and you’re his client, so his job is to make you feel as comfortable as possible. 

so, to soothe your nerves, he runs his latex-clad fingers along the arch in your spine, splaying his hands across your lower back and smiling when he feels you shiver as a disinfectant wipe comes into contact with your skin. 

“i’m just prepping the skin, and then i’ll transfer the stencil. it’ll feel a little cold at first, but hopefully it’ll help calm all those pesky nerves. does that sound alright?” you nod. “good girl.”

shit. it just slipped out, the praise, but then he notices that your muscles start to relax. you like praise. good to know, for next time. 

time seems to pass slowly as geto works his magic, plastering the stencil onto your lower back. it’s affecting him, your reactions, and when he finally reveals the potential placement of your totally out-of-character tramp stamp, he has to physically restrain himself from groaning out loud. 

the placement — it’s fucking dirty. 

geto decides to check up with you before finally starting to prep his equipment. “are you sure about this? it’s your first time, so it might hurt.” he chuckles lightly. “scrap that. it will hurt, but i’ll try to make it quick so that you feel the least amount of pain as possible.”

“i…” your voice dies in your throat when you feel his fingers trace the outline of your preeminent tattoo. “ ‘m a bit nervous. never done this before.”

“mm, i know, angel. you have such a beautiful body… i’d be honoured to mark it up some more next time.”

oh. you know (read: think) there’s no underlying intent to his words, but the way his honeyed voice purrs behind you has a stream of wetness start to build inside of you, and you try to discreetly clench your thighs to quell the dull ache in between your legs, praying that geto doesn’t notice. 

he does. if he wasn’t mistaken, this might just be your kink: being left merciless whilst someone toys with your body. he doesn’t overstep though, just teases, running his hands along your bare legs. “how about here next time? i could ink a pretty little flower on your ankle, or maybe some initials… yours, of course.”

geto rathers he mark his initials on your ankle, but again, boundaries. to stop himself from saying anything that’ll have you bolting out of the studio in a millisecond, he finally sits in his chair, picking up the needle and scooting towards you. “are you ready, sweetheart? this is going to hurt, so tell me if you want me to let up at any time.”

you won’t. he knows you won’t, because the feeling of his fingers on your skin is intoxicating for you given the way your toes begin to curl in your flats as he steadies his hands on your lower back. “relax, love. it’ll hurt less.”

the needle pierces your skin, ink blooming as geto begins his work. the feeling… it’s strange, given the fact that it’s quite literally repeated pinpricks on your back. but it feels strangely good paired with geto’s hands on your back, and his smooth voice praising you all the way through. 

“oh, you’re doing such a good job for your first time, love. i’ve never seen anyone react so well.”

“does it feel alright? wouldn’t want to cause any harm to this precious body of yours.”

“i’m almost finished. you’ve been such a good client, i wouldn’t mind inking you again.”

all of it goes straight to your head, and the pain of the needle is replaced with instant euphoria as your mind fills with lewd images of geto fucking you in this exact position, hands on your lower back in the same way as he eases inside of you. and his voice, good lord, his voice… he would totally talk you through it, his rich grumble echoing in your ear as he guides you to orgasm. 

“you’re taking it so well, aren’t you, baby? that’s my good girl.”

“fuck yes, angel, just like that… oh, you’re so damn perfect.”

“you’re close? cum for me, baby. need to feel you, atta girl…”

before you know it, a moan slips from your lips, and you immediately dread geto’s reaction. 

“did you just…?”

your cheeks are on fire. “n-no! sorry, it hurt a little bit there. i should be fine though, you can keep going.” 

he quirks an eyebrow. “well then, the fault is mine entirely. allow me to make it up to you? i’d feel horrible for hurting you, after all.”

your slight nod is all he needs and suddenly he’s finishing up and wrapping your tramp stamp before prying your thighs apart and slipping his latex-clad fingers into your dripping panties. 

PREVIOUS : SWEET TALK ft. choso NEXT : N/A

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK masterlist.

© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. chain divider by @/cafekitsune.

[starlost97]

— forgiveness.

summary: After a fight, you decided that the best way to punish Arthur was simply not talking. He couldn't, however, take it any longer after seeing you in a silk red dress.

tags: silent treatment, not really fluff but not really angst, kind of sexual, he begs, Arthur is a simp, f!reader.

characters: Arthur Leclerc.

warnings: reader wears a dress, reader is referred to as "sweet girl".

a/n: the first shortfic to a series of formula 1 one shots! me and my friend did this thing where we write things of our favorite drivers to one another and I decided to post some (a lot) of them. hope u enjoy it! this one's prompt is "wearing a revealing dress while giving them the silent treatment". also, the next one will probably be either a Jenson Button one or a Max Verstappen one!

word count: 342.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

Arthur never regretted something more in his entire life.

Sure, right after raising his voice in his argument with you he already felt like the worst boyfriend ever. You two were discussing his crappy time management skills and since he was already stressed, he ended up telling you to shut up.

And he regretted that terribly.

He had given you apology letters, perfumed them with his cologne — which you once told him was one of your favorite scents — and left them on your nightstand. But that didn’t seem to help much — even though he caught you smiling to one of them one day.

He was already hopeless by day two. He didn’t even know what to do anymore.

But when he saw you with that silky red dress, it was inevitable.

His knees failed him — thank God they did —, and soon enough he was crawling to you, putting his hands on your thighs.

“Baby, please.” He shamelessly begged. He didn’t know how long he could endure this torture anymore. “I might actually go insane without hearing your voice, mon amour.”

His eyes got lost in the way the silk hugged your body. The soft cloth moved around your waist freely, cruelly reminding him of your smooth skin underneath it, making him desperate. Desperate for your body, for your touch, for your sweet whispers against his ear.

“You know I don't mind begging you, don’t you, sweet girl?” Arthur asked, looking up at you. He grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, then wrist, then arm. Slowly, he reached your ear. “I beg you to tell me what I have to do to earn your forgiveness. I’ll do anything, darling. Anything.” He whispers. His desperation was palpable enough for you to touch. “You have me entirely to you, and that means that I’ll do as you wish. So please, baby, tell me how I can show you how much I regret saying those things.”

In the end, Arthur showed how sorry he was.

And how thankful he felt to earn your so desperately desired forgiveness.

[jazzyoranges]

Saw you take requests!! Can you do a fluffy Wednesday x Shape shifter!Reader (no smut please) where it's Wednesday's writing time but she can't think of ideas so reader turns into a cat and curls up on Wednesday's lap? Basically helping Wednesday by making sure Wednesday can't get up until she writes a chapter. Thanks!

Orange kitty - drabble

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Words: 0.8k

A/n: i feel like we as a fandom haven’t been putting the orange cat x black cat trope in enough fics. this is me advocating for orange cat!r

“I feel your eyes on me, (Y/n).”

“I’m not allowed to look at my friend anymore?”

“It’s distracting. You’re inhibiting me from writing.” Wednesday isn’t fully lying. She just doesn’t add how you give her an odd feeling. An odd feeling she doesn’t like.

“Aww, do I make you nervous, Wens?” You laugh, deciding to ignore the glare she sends your way

“Keep talking and I’ll remove your voice box.”

“Please, I think you’d miss me too much” You roll your eyes, stretching on Wednesday’s bed

You turn into a cat as per Thing’s request, and you two start to play tag around Wednesday and Enid’s shared room. Thing happily bragged that you and him were better friends once. His hubris only resulted in Wednesday taking away his favorite lotions for an entire week.

The Addams girl huffs when she, yet again, makes a mistake on her typewriter. This was unlike her. The tiny trash can under her desk was nearing being full only after one or two hours of her failed attempts at writing. Wednesday put her hands in her lap after she realized her words only became futile

The abrupt stop of clacking keys makes you turn your head, giving Thing the perfect opportunity to tag you back on Enid’s bed. You quickly turn human again with almost a cartoon-ish pop, and ask Thing if Wednesday was allergic to cats

“She’s not, why do you ask?” He signs

“Do you think she’d kill me if I sat on her lap?” You sign back, not wanting Wednesday to hear

“As a human, most definitely. But if you were a cat maybe she’d tolerate you. No promises, though” Thing somehow shrugs using his thumb and pinkie finger as arms. God, you loved the weird appendage

“I can hear you two talking. I’d prefer if you’d leave me in silence.”

“Writers block?”

“No, I’m merely thinking of the correct words to use.”

“Maybe you should ask Enid for help. The woman can reach over the Twitter character limit in like… three seconds. Two if she’s really excited”

“Recommend such a horrid idea again and I’ll release you in my pen of hellhounds.”

“We both know I’d win” You cockily smirk, again ignoring what looks to be annoyance on Wednesday’s face. Then again, she always looked annoyed

“Your hubris is laughable. Let’s see how you suffice when your digestive system is ripped open.”

“Tempting, but I’d rather stay here with you”

You can only assume Thing listens with watchful… fingers? You execute your plan to him, and a quick pinkie-promise indicates he gets to bury you if Wednesday decides to kill you after the stunt you’re about to pull

“Hey, Wens?” The Addams doesn’t show any form of talking but you decide to keep going

“Did you know people say cats can lessen anxiety?”

The Addams hums in acknowledgement, so you continue

“Well, I don’t exactly believe it”

“And why is that.” Wednesday sighs. Sometimes she wonders why she indulges in you

“I dunno, just seems fake. I was wondering if you’d do an experiment with me?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Great! Thanks, Wens” You give Thing a quick wink after turning into a cat and hopping up onto her desk. Turning your head to the side as if you were asking a question, you looked at Wednesday for an answer

You were crazy, but not crazy enough to do something to make Wednesday hate you

For some reason, the Addams girl doesn’t even have a second chance to think before scooting back her chair. You’re about to jump into her lap with a paw over the edge of her desk, but you glance up to make sure Wednesday was sure. You receive a small nod

The action is enough to make you whisper a small “thank you” but it only comes out as a small meow

You circle around her lap for a good area to lay, and you quickly take your spot with a tiny smile that makes your eyes close. Wednesday scoots her chair back in, and she has absolutely no idea what to do.

Only when you start to purr a shiver goes up her spine. The vibrations are light, and something about you happily laying on her lap makes you chip away at Wednesday’s walls the tiniest bit. She contemplates where to put her hands before Thing scurries on top of you to scratch behind your ear. Wednesday shoots him a deathly glare in return, but your favorite Addams (don’t tell Wednesday) stays put

As if showing Wednesday how to pet a cat, Thing gets off of your back and points a finger in your direction. Hesitantly, the Addams girl copies the actions Thing showed her

And you? You were having an amazing time. Wednesday’s fingers were cold but every stroke of her hand was calculated. She took note of which spots you purred louder, and continued her movements

Fuck you and your ability to get what you want, Wednesday thinks. Of course your smug ass knew cats lessened anxiety. Of course.

But Wednesday can’t help being addicted to your tiny purrs and vibrations

With her left hand fondling your ear and her right on her typewriter, she decides maybe a cat could be arranged in her novel.

[beauty-brains-braun]

Better

Hawks wants to get back together. Your best friend Bakugo has some thoughts on that.

mdni 18+

Pairings: Bakugo/fem reader, mentioned Past Hawks/ fem reader

Tags/TW:  Smut, Aged-Up Characters, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Jealousy

Your eyes tracked Keigo as he crossed the bar, stopping every few seconds to chat with one person or another. He hadn't spotted you yet. You'd really like to be looking elsewhere once he did but you couldn't seem to look away.

If you’d known he’d be here, you would have stayed home. Shouldn’t he have been off being an asshole somewhere else? How could he possibly fit this party into his busy schedule of preening and backstabbing? His head started to turn in your direction and you looked away so fast you felt your neck pop.

Katsuki Bakugo was sneering at you when you looked his way. “When are you going to get over that loser?”

“I am over him. He just infuriates me.” You lean a little closer to your best friend. “You wouldn’t be interested in flirting with me real quick though, by any chance?”

He snorted so hard, he almost choked on his beer. “No chance in hell, you better find Kirashima.”

You put your hand on his arm and laughed a touch too loudly, leaning against him. Kiri was not going to get the job done, Keigo had always been insanely jealous of your friendship with Katsuki and what would truly heal you was pissing the feathered man off.

“You have got to be joking.” Katsuki said, blinking incredulously. “This is you flirting? How do you keep finding boyfriends?” He held up a hand. “On second thought, maybe this is exactly why you only date losers.”

“Ouch” You put your hand to your chest. “Let’s walk that back several feet. I am excellent at flirting, I just usually have a partner who gives me something to work with.”

“You want something to work with?” He asked, setting down his beer.

“It would be ni-” You were cut off as he pulled from your stool, and spun you so your back touched the bar. You blinked rapidly in shock as your eyes met his crimson pair, sparkling deviously.

Katsuki’s arms brushed against yours where he caged you in and he leaned forwards, placing his mouth next to your ear. “Like this?”

Your throat was suddenly extremely dry and you struggled to respond, eventually just deciding to nod. A mistake because his mouth brushed your skin at the movement and lightning tingled up your spine.

He leaned back, just far enough to see your face, and you noticed his devious expression had been replaced by something else. Something you struggled to recognize.

A throat cleared nearby, startling you both. You looked up to find Keigo standing there, face twisted into a frown and eyes burning with annoyance. You’d forgotten he was even here.

“Keigo. What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” he asked and you almost smirked at the tone in his voice. Pissing him off had not been hard.

“We are talking, unfortunately.”

“Can we talk privately?”

“Fuck off, Hawks. She’s busy.” Katsuki glared hard at Hawks and the other man’s eyes narrowed in response. You sighed loudly, suddenly annoyed with both of them. They had always hated each other, though in all fairness Katsuki hated anyone higher than him on the hero chart. Privately, you thought he’d pass Hawks soon but the thought had always felt like a betrayal.

“Let’s not start, guys. You’re going to ruin Mina’s birthday. Again. Remember last year’s incident? With the cake.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but Keigo turned back to you. “Can we just go outside and talk then? Please. Just for a minute.”

“Fine.” You gave in, too tired to fight him. You’d never been all that good at saying no to him.

“This is not a good idea.” Katsuki growled, turning back to you, arms still caging you in.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, placing your hand on his arm briefly, before moving out of his hold and following Keigo outside.

***********

Forty-five minutes later you were in your shower, letting the hot water wash the day off of your shoulders. You were alone, exhausted, and a little too proud of yourself for successfully holding your ground. Keigo had wanted to get back together but you’d told him no. He’d hurt you too badly. He’d demanded to know if something was going on with you and Katsuki. You told him what you did was none of his damn business anymore. He had made sure of that. After your talk you were left more confident than before that you were over him but you’d just wanted to get out of there so you texted Katsuki and Mina and came home. You were going to have to do some serious groveling to Mina but that was a problem for tomorrow..

You were turning off the water when someone began pounding loudly on your front door. Wrapping a giant towel around yourself, you went to answer it. Confused as to who would be knocking on your door like they’d like to break it down, you pulled it open suddenly, blinking in surprise to find Katsuki standing there, fist flying uselessly through the air as he tried to keep banging on a door that was no longer there.

“Is something wrong??” You looked him over for an injury.

Katsuki glared at you. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” You asked, confused. “Are you mad I left because-”

“Yes, I’m mad you left! That asshole completely shredded your heart and you still leave with him? Where the fuck is he? I’m going to kick his ass.” Katsuki pushed past you into your apartment and disappeared into your bedroom.

Wait. He thought you’d left with Keigo? You followed him. “Katsuki, no one else is here. Not that it’s any of your business, actually, but I told Keigo to leave me alone.”

“Not my business?” He asked, voice raising slightly. “Who has to hear about it every single time your shitty taste in men comes back to bite you in the ass? Who has spent a decade watching you choose wrong again and again?”

Ouch. Your chest hurt suddenly and you turned away from him. Katsuki had always been there for you and it had never occurred to you that he resented it. “Sorry, I’ll just keep my poor choices to myself from now on.” You tried to walk away but his hand shot out, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” You turned to look at him, fighting tears.

“I’m saying choose better.” He pulled you closer seconds before his mouth crashed into yours.

The lighting you felt up your spine at the bar earlier returned, this time coursing through your entire body. You were frozen in shock, the last thing you’d ever expected was Katsuki to kiss you.

He pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, you obviously aren’t interested in-”

You didn’t let him finish the sentence, pulling him back to you and kissing him this time. He kissed you back immediately, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you as close to him as you could get. His other hand, he brought up to cup your neck and you shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. Your nipples hardened and you were suddenly very aware that the only thing you were wearing was a towel.

Katsuki’s mouth left yours and he trailed kisses down your jaw and to your neck, making you gasp. “Can I taste you? “ He asked suddenly and heat flared through you. “I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like.” His crimson eyes were dark with lust and you found yourself nodding. The sight of him dropping to his knees before you would be cemented into your brain until you died. He reached for the edge of the towel and tugged firmly, eyes drinking you in the moment it dropped away.

“Fuck” he whispered. His fingers brushed your skin, trailing up your legs almost reverently to grasp your legs and spread them. His lips touched your skin, kissing your inner thighs, before he turned his head and his tongue found your clit then snaked down to your entrance, lapping up the juices he found there then returning his attention to your clit until your legs shook and threatened to collapse. He pulled away, looking up into your eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Katsuki got to his feet and kissed you so deeply, you could taste yourself on his tongue. He moved you both back a few steps and laid you down onto your bed before stepping back and removing his shirt. Your eyes drank in his muscles greedily and then he removed his pants. Your eyes dipped lower and widened at the sight of his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips which were suddenly so so dry and Katsuki let out a low groan at the sight before he was back on top of you. His mouth was everywhere. On your mouth, your neck, then your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting lightly while his fingers push into you, stretching you around them. His thumb rubbed circles on your clit as you felt pressure building in your lower stomach until you snapped, cumming around his fingers.

He removed his fingers quickly replacing them with the head of his cock. He put his fingers into his mouth, licking your juices from them as he slowly pushed inside you.

“Fuck” he grunted, head dropping to rest on your shoulder when he bottomed out deep inside you.

“Please” you whined, grinding your hips, needing friction. Needing him to freaking move.

“Hold on, I- fuck- I need a second or this is gonna be over before it starts.” He let out a deep breath then finally pulled back, almost all of the way out of you and thrust back in. “God, you’re perfect. Just for me.” He fucked in and out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot every time. “So wet and tight for me.”

“Katsuki” you whined, feeling amazing but needing more. “Harder please.”

He let out a rough laugh and pulled out of you, drawing a cry of protest from you. “So needy for me, huh?” He flipped you over, pressing your back down into the mattress with one hand and pulling your hips up with the other. He slammed back into you, immediately setting the rough pace you’d desperately needed. “Answer me.”

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, not sure he’d have been able to hear you over the smacking of his hips on your ass every time he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a good girl for me. You’re sucking me in so good.” His chuckle turns into a moan as your orgasm hits you and your pussy clenches his cock, milking it. He falls forward, hands gripping your sheets as you cum around him and he fights to keep the same pace, to keep fucking you through your orgasm.

You dimly register sparks in the corner of your vision and the sound of Katsuki cursing, but can’t concentrate on anything except for the longest, most amazing orgasm of your life. It makes sense for you to see fireworks really. You slowly come down from your high and register the scorched handprints on your sheets and Katsuki pulling out to cum on your thighs.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I- shit.” He’s staring at your sheets in concern but you laugh, pulling him down next to you.

“Worth it.” You tell him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiled at you and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Should probably go ahead and get a few backup sets while you’re at it.” You teased.

“You think so?” He rolled over, nuzzling into your neck and nibbling at the skin there. “I suppose these are already ruined… We might as well take advantage.”

“Already?” You asked, laughing.

A knock at your door interrupted his reply and you exchanged a confused look.

“Maybe we were too loud?” You suggested but an annoyed knowing look had settled on Katsuki’s face.

He got to his feet, pulling on his boxers on the way to your door.

The sound of Keigo’s voice had you sitting up in surprise. You wrapped the sheet around you and made it to your bedroom door.

Keigo stood in the doorway to your apartment, staring at Katsuki in open mouthed outrage.

“She’s taken.” Katsuki snapped, slamming the door in Keigo’s face before he had time to respond.

Katsuki turned around, smirking when his eyes landed on you. “Now where were we?”

[water-to-drink]

How They Became Attracted to You

(Characters): Al haitham, Ayaka, Kaeya, Chiori

(Synopsis): First meetings with the most popular or influential students at the academy

(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, reader is an artist, school au, reader is a transfer student, possible ooc Chiori, (if I missed something lmk)

(Word Count): 1.4k

(A/n): If you all like this then I’ll make a part two, just tell me which characters you want to see

🦅Al haitham🦅

🦅 The first and only one to best him in a test, a geometry test to be specific. He only came in at 99% while you come in at a perfect 100%

🦅 At first refused to believe that a mere art nerd could get a better score than him and so with as much delicacy as a bull in a china shop Al haitham came up to you and asked you how you got your score

🦅 Being randomly approached by the school’s smartest student you were very nervous and told him that you just did what you learned from class. Seeing that you won’t give him the answer he asks for you to tutor him which you agreed to go it, mostly because you were very nervous under his sharp gaze

🦅 While tutoring it became apparent that you sucked at explaining things to him, don’t get him wrong he already knows the material he just wants to know how and why you got a 100. As these sessions went Al haitham saw how your hands would glide across the paper, the delicacy almost amazed him

🦅 Slowly but surely Al haitham realized that there was more to your shy exterior. You were sassy and quick witted, you could even match his intellect on many topics, he finds himself feeling that he on an equal level with you.

🦅 Now he looks forward to your tutoring sessions, recently you two won’t do any tutoring just do your homework and talk about anything on your mind, the same mind that he finds so interesting and beautiful

🪭Ayaka Kamisato 🪭

🪭 The two of you have seen each other in the hallway before and after classes. She would always see you with a sketchbook in your hands or drawing in it. You didn’t take up too much real estate in her mind, the poor girl has too much going on as the daughter of the Kamisato family. That was until one day where Ayaka was leaving cram school and her chauffeur was stuck in traffic, she was approached by an older man

“What’s a girl like you doing out so late?”

“I’m leaving cram school, sir.”

“Cram school? You kids work so hard, I can show you a good time.”

“Uh, no thank you, sir.”

“C’mon, don’t be so stuck up, live a little-”

“What’s the problem?!”

🪭 There you are, yelling at the top of your lungs, she can tell that you’re scared but you still yell drawing more attention to yourself and the creep in question. Once a lot of people are watching the scene the creep walks off leaving you and her alone

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry that you had to step in.” Ayaka bows her head

“Don’t worry, I saw that you were uncomfortable so I decided to step in. See you around.” You waved goodbye as you walked off and her chauffeur pulled up

🪭 Later Ayaka came to learn that you didn’t know of the prestige that came with the Kamisato name. You came up and scared off the guy of your own volition, thinking that she was just an ordinary girl who needed to be rescued and that is what she’ll continue being to you

🪭 It wouldn’t be hard since you two are in different grades, you being her senior by a year. You would both meet up in a quiet cafe you work at, she learned that it was your family’s business and work there to help your family and to earn some pocket money. The two of you got so close that you even let her look through your sketchbook and Ayaka was amazed by your skills

🪭 When you offered to draw a portrait of her she jumped at the offer. So one day at your family’s cafe you presented her a drawing of her. You drew her as a swordswoman dressed in traditional Inazuman clothing and armor, she profusely thanked you and framed it the moment she got home

🪭 There are some nights where if she can’t sleep mainly because of nerves she’ll take your drawing and look at it, thinking about you would quell her anxiety and give her the best of dreams. Just don’t tell her brother, she’s afraid he’ll scare you off

❄️Kaeya❄️

❄️ Is the complete opposite of his adopted brother, he’s known as the school’s flirt and a total playboy. He makes girls and guys alike go head over heels for him, and you, the new transfer student, is on his radar

❄️ He lives for making innocent things like you into a flustered little mess. So when he sauntered over to you and threw his usual flirty remarks, he wasn’t met with a sheepish face nor an oblivious one. No he was met with a look of disgust

❄️ Without saying anything you walked away from him, leaving him bewildered. Did he do something wrong? Everyone falls for him. Refusing to take this laying down Kaeya decides to find out why weren’t you under his spell

❄️ And so he began to make an attempt to learn more about you, your likes and your dislikes, or your hobbies. At first you would just ignore him when he would try to strike up a conversation and after a few weeks he decided to make a deal with you

“Are you serious?” You asked

“Dead serious. We’ll act as friends and if you still can’t stand me in 2 months, then we’ll stop. Does that sound good?”

“Only if you promise to leave me alone after?”

“If you still can’t stand me.” Kaeya threw his signature smirk

“Ugh fine! But no flirting!”

“I make no promises~”

❄️ The two of you tried to act as friends, before it was awkward but soon you got used to his presence and you slowly began to come out of your shell, finally showing your true colors after about 3 weeks of “friendship”

❄️ Kaeya finds himself laughing at your jokes, actually laughing and not the fake laugh he would do when he’s trying to fuck somebody. Now Kaeya’s heart thumps whenever you would laugh at something or wave at him in the hallway. Oh gods, is he in love?!

❄️ He wishes he didn’t have the reputation he has, he wants more than your body, he wants your heart

🪡Chiori🪡

🪡 The president of the sewing club. Chiori and her club members have made various designs, many of them for the theater group whenever they’re putting on a performance. However the best designers have their slow movements, not being able to come up with any designs that are up to their standards. That is what plaguing Chiori

🪡 One day she finds a random sketchbook in the sewing club. Curiosity getting the best of the young seamstress she flips through the book, there she sees the most beautiful character designs, the obvious inspiration from big names like Chanel, Gucci, and Thierry Mugler, but the person who made these designs are unique to them. It all gives Chiori a surge of inspiration

🪡 Immediately she opens up her own sketchbook and begins drafting up some designs, some are amazing but others don’t compare to the designs in the mysterious sketchbook she found. She must find the person who made this

🪡 She hears the door opening and when she turns her head, she sees you looking a bit embarrassed.

“Uh, I left my sketchbook here, have you seen it?”

“Yes, I have.” Chiori picks up the book and hands it to you. “I looked through it.”

“Wait, what?!”

“And I like what I saw, can I make the designs in this book?”

🪡 So every Tuesday you would go to the sewing club and let Chiori bring life to your designs, the two of you would talk about various fashion styles and designers. Chiori is very impressed by your vast knowledge on how different styles and cultures arose, she might even say it rivals her knowledge (but she won’t)

🪡 The more time you two spend together the more Chiori likes you, she would look forward to your presence right next to her talking her ear off about your characters as she worked. Normally she would play music but the sound of you rambling is more than enough for her

🪡 In the privacy of her room Chiori would often find herself drawing up designs for wedding garments for her and yours wedding, she can’t wait for the day you to call her “my wife”

[watsittoyah]

The Devils Playpen

A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC

NEXT

This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.

That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.

You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…

Chapter 1) When The Predator Becomes Prey…

(Song: Obsession By Exo)

Warning: Mentions of suicide. Stalking, choking of non sexual nature. Oral sex, shibari, threats of r*pe, Light Saber play (don’t be dumb you know what that last tag means)

I walk past a woman with long and short locks but she brings no excitement to my inner beast.

How lucky she is.

I hiss internally as I walk inside of the apothecary. Once I’m inside I inhale deeply, letting the poison I desire call to my senses.

However I smell something else. Something sweet? Sticky? I let my eyes fall onto a man hunched over in a corner. I don’t bother with manners of averting my eyes.

My curiosity has a scratch and I want it itched.

“Hello?” I call out to him in a soft voice. The man appears to be sleeping and I walk closer but keep my distance. His scent still smells sticky and sweet. Like those man eating plants over on Plexart.

“Hello, sir? I’m here to buy some supplies.” I say as I stare at his sleeping form. I flick an empty bottle over and it shatters causing him to finally stir from his slumber.

“Oh, sorry.” He stretches and does a big yawn before he looks over at me. When our eyes meet, he runs his fingers through his mop like hair and gives me a lazy smile. “Oh, hello. And you are?” He asks as he stands fully.

I take note that we have a significant size difference. He looks to be 5’11 while I stand at 5’4.

“I’m here to buy supplies, unless you aren’t the owner of this shop.” I ask in a gentle yet bored tone. He clears his throat and nods. “I am, I am. So what can I get for you? Ah, pick your poison.” He jokes. I however don’t laugh or crack a smile.

“I just needs a few things on this list. Whatever you don’t have, I’m sure I can find on my travels.” I hand him a piece of paper and our fingers brush against each other. He feels cold to the touch.

Interesting…

“Hm, this is quite the list. Might I ask what are all of these for?” He asks as he looks at me.

No, he’s studying me. Which makes my inner beast stir.

“Just some tools on helping me hunt. Nothing major. I don’t mean to be rude but I do need to be on my way.”

“Right, I will get on this for you now.” He starts on my list and I decide to look around and figure out if I’m going to kill him or let him live since he brings a spark of something out of me.

“Can I ask you a question?” The man asks, which causes me to give an internal sigh. “What is your question sir?”

“Qimir, you can call me Qimir. Anyways my question for you is, what methods do you take to hunt your prey?” This question peaks my interest because the way he says prey I think he knows I hunt a different kind of species.

“There’s many ways to do that. Poisons, bare hands, even a simple isolation tactic. But the best method…is simply a mental attack. That works on any kind of prey.” I say with a hint of a smile on my lips. I look up and see Qimir staring at my lips.

I bite my plump bottom lip, which makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

“Forgive me for prying, but the items on your list, they are interesting. Bunta Root? That grows-”

“In one specific place I know, but I figured this place would have it here..” I look away from him and glance out the window.

In a matter of days, I will be at her door and I’ll she can’t escape me. I can’t wait to see her eyes widen by surprise. She’ll think how did a beast like me, hunt her down to the very last of her days.

Will she beg for her life?

Will she plead that I do it quickly?

The possibilities will be endless when I finally get my hands on Zen.

Zen…

She was once a great ally to my people at least until she got them killed.

Genocide, her and those moral less Jedi committed genocide to my people and I need to make sure they pay. She’s the final one and I just know, she knows I’m coming for her. Especially when the word went around on how her partner’s body was discovered.

I’ll never forget how his eyes had ballooned in his skull after I cracked his head open. I can almost picture his head hitting the concrete over and over and over. His brain matter was all over my hands, staining my nails with his blood.

If I close my eyes tonight will his ghost haunt me?

Will his soul ask me why I took him from his lover so soon?

I blink and I’m no longer in that glorious gruesome memory.

I turn and Qimir is standing close to me, almost making me flinch. “Excuse you.” I snap at him. He looks me up and down and cocks his head to the side.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…you remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is just uncanny. You look…exactly like her.” He whispers softly as he takes in my entire appearance.

Instead of stepping back, his scent makes my stomach grumble which makes me flick my split tongue against my inner cheek.

“Trust me Qi, if you knew me…you wouldn’t be standing so close.” I say to him letting my split tongue slither past my full lips. I notice his eyes darken from my movement for a split second.

“Why is that? I find you quite the interesting creature.” He says as he reaches out to touch my coiled curl. I jerk my head back not from his attempt to touch me, but from his scent.

I want to split my jaw open and take a chunk out of him. His scent had changed somehow. He smells like spiced sweet fruit.

I see a smirk on his lips and I want to bite him. I want to bite his flesh and rip i-

“Excuse me?” We break eye contact and I see a woman, she looks exactly like the woman I had passed when I came in here but her hair…it’s short. And she smells… sour.

I grow bored with her and move away from Qimir. But as I move away he grabs my wrist. I look down at his hand and then at him. “Don’t go anywhere. I’d like to finish this.” He lets my hand go and he moved away from me swiftly.

I narrow my eyes at his back as he talks to the woman. As I glance at her with boredom I can smell that she’s anxious? Scared?

Oh, maybe I can have some fun with her after all.

As Qimir talks to her, which tells me something is going on, I run my hand along the counter and ‘accidentally’ bump into her, causing her things to clatter to the floor.

“Oh I’m so sorry, Miss. Do forgive me I am not myself.” We lock eyes and in that moment, she’s frozen in place. Her pupils dilate. I can hear her pulse quicken. “I..it’s okay.” She stutters as I hand her her things.

“You are so pretty.” I say as I take in her whole face. I see her blink a few times and I study her presence.

She’s nervous, hmm her body is smart to be nervous, but is her brain?

“Oh! I’m sorry, I give compliments before I even give my name. I’m Akasha. And you are?” I see the apple of her cheeks deepen in color after I compliment her.

“I’m-” She looks away from me and at Qimir but I clear my throat and she looks back at me, trapped in my spell. “I’m Osha.” She whispers with a small smile. “Such a pretty name. I don’t mean to over step, but would you like some company on your travels?” Before she answers me, Qimir clears his throat.

I cut my eyes at him and he’s staring at me, in a way that makes me want to challenge him. “I thought you wanted your things in a hurry, Akasha.” He says my name as if he’s accusing me of something .

“Suddenly I am in no rush, especially when it comes to making new friends.” I stand as well as Osha and I step towards her. Inhaling her fear.

Her scent is starting to ripen, oh I need to sink my teeth into her, before she spoils. Before she-

“Mae, if you don’t mind. I’m just handling this customer and then I can get back to you.”

Mae?

I look back at the woman and she looks down at her fingers, fidgeting with them.

“Okay, Qimir.” She says with hesitation in her voice. She looks at me and I wink at her. “So, pretty one, might I ask, what brings you to an apothecary?” I ask as I lean against the counter, looking her up and down.

I wonder how her teeth taste.

“I’m just here to thank Qimir for the item he gave me. It helped me greatly.” I listen to her pulse and it quickens.

Oh you little liar.

Now I’m excited to know why she’s lying so much.

“You’re welcome. I hope I can help anyway I can to help you please your Master.” Qimir says as I feel him behind me. I look back and he was leaning forward, playing with one of my curls.

How did I not notice him this close to me?

I flick my hair from his touch and he sniffs his finger tips.

Did he just sniff his fingers?

“Akasha, since you’re making friends, how about being my friend?” Qimir asks as he stares me deep into my eyes.

Hmmm…

“I like being friends with girls, Qimir. They’re are nice and sweet….” I look at his lips and I can imagine biting them.

“But with boys? I tend to be a bit too rough with them. And you?” I look him over his slim athletic build. “You look like you break easily.”

I see him lick his bottom lip and I swear I hear a slight groan in his throat. He then lowers his voice so only I can hear.

“You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Akasha. I tend to play rough with my things. Sometimes they break and sometimes they…turn to ash in my clutch.”

Excitement licks my veins as I inhale his scent.

Mmm it’s mixed with sweet, spice and arousal.

“Sounds like a threat, and a fun time. Maybe…” I lean in close to his ear, as he leans in to hear me. “…I can teach you how to play with your toys nicely by making you my new toy. Would you like that, Qi?” I flick my tongue against his ear and I hear a deep groan vibrate from his chest.

He’s about to answer me but Osha/Mae clears her throat and I feel both Qi and myself glare at her.

I look away and take a deep breath. “How about you talk to her and I’ll be back for my things. I have something to grab on that list that I know you don’t have here.” Before he can stop me I leave the shop and place my hood back upon my head.

••••

“I need Daroon moss for my special powder. Maybe if I’m lucky I can find some on the outer banks of this place.” I mutter as I continue to walk further into a crowd but my muscles tense as I feel I’m being followed.

Who would be stupid enough to follow me?

I decide to cut the chase short and duck further into the crowd.

They continue to follow me and that’s when I notice his scent.

The sweet spicy arousal.

I slip into an alleyway and I stand there counting as his scent get closer. That smell. If I were an addict, I would beg for a hit of that scent on a daily.

As soon as he is in arms reach I snatch him in close then push him to the ground. I then quickly take my boot and press it firmly against his throat.

“I don’t know about your other customers but I don’t like to be followed around stores or crowds.” I press down with a bit more pressure, just so he can answer me.

He winces in pain. “S….sorry. But I did…tell you I wanted…to finish this.” I go to step down harder but he grabs my ankle and twists, causing me to lose my footing.

He then pins me under him and I feel his full weight on top of me. “Get off of me.” I hiss. “Not until we finish this, conversation.”

“This conversation is over!“ I scream at him. He looks deep into my eyes and he gives me a wicked grin. “I’m sorry, but you seem to still think you have control of this situation. When clearly I’m the one on top. But I’ll be nice. The conversation will end after I tell you this…I’ve decided that I want you to be my new toy. And when I want something I take it.” I see a flash of something wild in his eyes as I feel his hands go for my throat.

His strength takes me by surprise as he starts cutting off my air supply. “Let…me…go!” I scream knowing it’ll cause at least someone to come find out why I’m screaming.

But…

No one comes.

Not even a curious onlooker.

He squeezes tighter and I try my best to fight him off. But it’s like an animal is wearing his skin and attacking me. I can feel him clearly aroused as he chokes me out on the ground.

Wait no, it can’t end this way.

I can’t die this way underneath this sick son of a bitch.

My vision starts to blacken around the corners. Qimir slowly starts to fog up into darkness, and just when I’m about to pass out, I hear him say these haunting words to me.

“You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for, Akasha, why would I ever let you go?”

•••••

I jerk awake and cough to clear my throat. I go to move except my body is tied up. But in a way that makes me look spread out like some attraction.

I glance around and see I’m somewhere unknown. And I’m completely naked. The panic starts to set in but it stops as soon as I smell his scent.

“QIMIR!” I scream his name as my eyes try to look for him. “I know you’re near! I can smell you! Show yourself!” I scream, in hopes that someone will hear me.

Someone did…

He did…

“I see you’re awake. Good.” Qimir says with a soft smile on his face. “What the fuck is going on! Where am I? Why and I here!” I shout at him, ignoring the cutting sensation from the ropes.

He pulls up a chair and sits down right in front of me. He stares at me as if I didn’t just ask him a barrage of questions. “You know you are a heavy sleeper. It was like I was dragging a dead body in here. Oh! This is my place by the way. It’s on a remote island so no one can disturb us.” He smiles big as if kidnapping me was something to be proud of.

“Why am I here?” I spat at him. Qimir looks at me as if I’m a piece of art to be gawked at. The way the ropes bite into my skin, I know they’ll leave marks and burns.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re here because I want you here.” He brushes his thumb against his bottom lip and continues to stare…study me. I begin to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Why am I tied up like this? I’m not some prized piece of meat!” He leans forward and strokes his hand against the fatty flesh of my thigh. “Because you look pretty….You are a female Venus Fly. Rare even when your people were alive and thriving. What was the ratio? For every fifteen boys, only three girls would be born. And I do like to collect rare things. But you? You, Akasha not only are you rare but you’re deadly. I have great use for you.”

I give him a bewildered look. “You’re fucking craz-” He gets up knocking the chair over and he had his hand gripping my jaw. “Don’t call me that, I’m not crazy. I see we have to start some lessons on teaching you how to have manners and respect for others.”

“GET OFF OF ME YOU BASTARD!” I scream at him, but all he does is smile. “You know now you’re screaming and yelling but soon you’ll worship me like a God. And I’ll be sure to reward you.” He takes his other hand and he trails his three fingers down my bare flesh, slowly getting closer to my exposed pussy.

“Stop.” I say as I feel him near my pubic hairs. “Do you know how much restraint I had to have, tying you up like this? The temptation I had to open this pretty little thing and slide anything it in just to watch your reaction?” He parts my wet lips and I feel my clit spasm.

“You wanted to sodomize me? You’re no better than-“ He makes me eat my words when he slides his middle finger inside of me while he uses his other two fingers to rub my lips.

My body responds to his touch which makes me angry. “S…stop.” I stutter to him. He leans in close to my ear. “Your lips are telling me to stop but these sets of lips seem to be telling me another story. As a matter of fact, how about her and I get better acquainted.”

Qimir slides his finger out of me and my pussy misses the violation. I see him get on his knees for me and he looks up at me, as if I’m a deity of some sort and he’s is there to worship.

I watch him lean in close to inhale my sex and I want to shrink back from him but in my attempts the ropes dig deeper into my skin.

“You smell so sweet, I wonder if the taste is the same.” He leans in and I feel his tongue flicking across my clit.

I clamp my lips shut to keep from moaning but he makes it a challenge as he grips my roped hips and buries his face deep into my pussy.

My eyes roll back as I feel his tongue twirl and flick across my clit. He presses his tongue flat against my pussy and my body tries to rock to find more friction.

“Careful, one false move and you could cause more rope burn, Akasha. But you like a little pain and pleasure don’t you?” Qimir asks as he opens my lips wider and slides his tongue deep inside of me.

This time I let the moan slip out. I feel him smiling against my sex and I don’t care. I need a release. I need to use his face.

“P…please.” I moan out as I look down at him, eating me out. He shakes his head and now he’s only using the tip of his tongue. “If…you…want something…then…say…Master.” He says lazily twirling his tongue.

“Please Master.” I whine. “I need to come.” He gives a deep guttural chuckle. “Look at you, moaning like a bitch in heat. I won’t forgive you for calling me crazy. But I’m not that cruel of a master.” He gives a hard suck to my clit causing me to groan and then he gets up off of his knees.

I was breathing heavy as I watch him grab something from his table.

A light saber.

My body tenses from the memories in my past of how much damage something like that can cause.

He lights it and the hue is blood red. He brings it close to me and I fight the urge to flinch. The heat from the saber could melt even the finest hairs on a person or animals skin.

“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’ll never use this part on you…just this part.” He turns the saber off and flips it so the handle it near me.

“Tell me, will you let me be your master? Will you let me teach you how to be the perfect predator?” As he asks me, I feel him rub the handle of the saber against my swollen clit and I shudder as I stupidly nod.

I don’t say a word from the fear and in his eyes I can tell he knows I’m afraid of the saber. “Akasha…you had a lot to say earlier. Why aren’t you being so colorful with your words now?” He slides the handle in slowly causing my eyes to roll back but my body stiffens again.

“Does this scare you? Does this give you pleasure?” He strokes the handle against my entrance and I let a nod go. “Pl-”

“Ah, what do you say?”

“Master…please. Don’t do that.” I moan out as he slides the handle in slowly. “Don’t do what? Slide the handle of my saber inside of the needy plump pussy? You don’t want me to make you feel good?” He whispers against my ear as his hand finds my throat.

The fear I have gets clouded when starts to slowly fuck me with the saber. I feel the build up in my lower stomach as I moan.

“See? Your body likes to feel good. It likes when I do this, but imagine how it’s going to feel when I use the real thing. When my cock is penetrating deep into your walls.”

He goes faster and my moans become more lose my from lips. My thighs burn from the rope and from the tension I have in them.

You can hear the wet noises coming from my soaking wet slit and I don’t care. I want a release.

“You’re taking it so well, my little flower. I bet you want to come don’t you?” I nod quickly as he slows down the pace. I try to buck my hips but I can’t from my restricting position. He raises a brow at me then. “Yes! Yes I do Master. Please!” I beg and plead.

He loosens his grip on my throat and he fucks me harder with the saber making my climax about to hit the tipping point.

“I’m gonna come.” I breathe out as I feel the anticipated tingle. But he stops, he yanks the saber out and tosses it across the room and I give out a shriek of frustration.

“Now would a crazy person deny a creature such as yourself the pleasure of coming? Don’t answer that, you might tell me the wrong answer and piss me off-” He grabs me by my tangled curls and yanks my head back, causing the rope around my shoulders and shoulder blades to tighten.

“You belong to me now, Akasha. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence is mine. And when I see fit to let you come, it will be on my cock, my mouth, or my fingers. Do you understand? You can speak.” He orders as he looks me in my eyes.

“Yes.” I say through clenched teeth. “Yes what?” He asks with a raised brow. “Yes master…”

“Good girl.” He lets me go and kisses my temple. “Get some rest, we have some training to do tomorrow.” He lets me go and simply walks away, leaving me strung up like some prize that’s been won.

The very second I get the chance, I’m going to kill Qimir. I should’ve known that his scent would lead me to the devils playpen…

[chaiifluuf]

Heart to heart — d. osamu

synopsis. seeing your boyfriend’s ex makes you question if you really are enough for him

content. fem!reader, ada!reader, hurt/comfort, has a made-up character

notes. a request written here ! @hyunorue, @walnutnut since you wanted to be tagged, i adjusted a few things but hope you enjoy nonetheless <3

“‘samu, we just had a lunch break..” 

you mention softly as you let him lead you out of the agency office. of course dazai wants to ditch work with you once again despite all your efforts to make him do the opposite. often you don’t go along with his antics since you actually value the paperwork and don’t want to stress kunikida even further. unfortunately, today was one of those days where dazai wins.

“so? we were still working then and have every right to get a break now!” dazai tells you as if there is no problem with what he said. you raise an eyebrow and stare at him sceptically. “more like i was the one working, you just pouted and sat next to me because i wasn’t focusing on you.” you point out while both of you walk down the stairs.

“how cruel, bella! i did write on my report,” he says dramatically, holding his free hand to his chest when the other hand is still intertwined with yours. “i saw you add exactly five words.” you respond bluntly as you remember your gaze flickering to his laptop to see what he was doing from before. dazai gives you a fake offended look before opening the door for you to exit.

the cafe right below the agency was the go-to place to take a break or even have lunch. and today was no different. two of you sit down at one of the tables and order your usual. you still weren’t at ease though. “you know if kunikida happened to be at the office currently then we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” 

dazai hummed indifferently, taking your hand in his again as he rubbed gentle circles on the back of it. a warm smile tugged at his lips. “kunikida this and kunikida that but how about you relax? don’t worry, i’ll just—”

he abruptly stopped speaking when he looked behind you towards the entrance of the cafe, the sound of the doorbell ringing filling the space. you feel confused and decide to call his name, but to no avail. before you can even turn around a woman’s voice can be heard throughout the room.

“oh my god! is that you, dazai?” she gasps and you saw the way his body stiffened. almost right away you can tell something is wrong. the woman walks up to the table you were sitting at, an amused grin on her face. you can’t help but wonder who she is. dazai has never mentioned knowing other women besides you and some others at the agency. what is going on?

“why long time no see! you do remember me right?” she says to him with an upbeat tone, her gaze shifting to you afterwards. the moment she did you realised something. she looked pretty. stunning even, her golden wavy hair fitting so well with her hazel eyes. while her expression seemed friendly, as soon as she looked at you, you felt somewhat uncomfortable. you felt as if she judged your whole being right now.

“i do, yuna. what are you doing here?” dazai’s voice was much colder in comparison to talking to you earlier. okay so dazai does know her. then she has to be someone from his past. someone he has never told you about. perhaps a friend, a relative or a… oh.  

yuna merely hums in response. “this cafe is a public place, no? just wanted to get a coffee but ran into you instead. how have you been?” she asks dazai, mostly ignoring you and it makes you feel like you’re not supposed to be here. your suspicions about who she is make this even worse. 

dazai sighs rather heavily. “now is not the time. seriously.” it’s obvious that he is trying to get her to leave but yuna doesn’t seem to get the hint. “woah you’re so tense, i mean no harm…” she says with a softer tone despite the playful smile growing on her lips, calmly bringing her hand to dazai’s shoulder as if i wasn’t even there. it’s becoming harder to not get annoyed because who does she think she is? 

your lips form into a thin line as you watch her get dangerously comfortable around him. you were about to give yuna a piece of your mind but dazai already got ahead of you. without hesitation, he pries her hand off his shoulder and she’s surprised by his action. 

“yuna, this is your last warning. i need you to stop acting like we’re anything more than strangers and respectfully, get the fuck out of here.” he spoke with a stern tone and looked into her eyes the entire time. you’re definitely not used to seeing him get genuinely mad at someone. 

small shock crosses her face and she seems taken aback by his sudden words. a moment of tense silence passes before yuna scoffs. “fine, be like that then. have fun with your new little girlfriend,” she says mockingly, her friendly tone long gone and you were not ready for the look she gave you. it was full of loathing and bitterness, like you were far beneath her.

and now you want to sink six feet underground. you hate how much she managed to affect you and you pray that she can’t tell from your expression. you shouldn’t even care what she thinks of you but assuming that she had some type of relationship with dazai before, you can’t help but feel out of place.

yuna finally leaves the place and dazai’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “i’m so sorry that you had to witness this,” he says with a sigh, “are you okay?” you can see it in his gaze that he is really apologetic and you don’t how to feel anymore. all of this could’ve been avoided if you just stayed at the agency.

“yeah, i’m fine. was that your ex?” you ask, ignoring the stirring emotions in your chest. dazai seems to think a little before answering. “not exactly. i haven’t talked to her in years now. i thought she moved away… but it doesn’t matter. let’s just focus on us, yeah?” 

you still had so many questions but you simply nod and take a sip of your drink. a worried glint remains in his eyes but you decide to ignore it and act like you’re okay with everything that happened. 

because you’re anything but okay.

yosano keeps giving you strange looks as you look through some files. you try to focus on work but the cafe incident won’t leave your mind no matter how hard you try. she can probably tell something is wrong. she’s a doctor after all. 

“y/n, did something happen?” yosano speaks up calmly while she sits on her office chair. you shift your gaze from the paper to her and blink in surprise. “ah, no. why are you asking?” you respond, trying to seem clueless.

“you’ve been staring at the same page for over five minutes now and i know for a fact you’re not that slow of a reader. your thoughts are elsewhere.” okay maybe it was more obvious than you anticipated. you know there’s no use to denying her at this point. with a defeated sigh, you sit down on a chair near her desk.

“it’s kind of stupid.” you’re still a little hesitant about this because while you and her got along well, you haven’t opened up about your problems to her before. her face softens slightly as she leans back on her chair. “surely it’s not if it has you acting this odd.”

a minute of silence passes before you start talking. “well me and osamu went on a break to the cafe and then this woman appeared out of nowhere, someone who he knew in the past and…” you pause, gathering your words, “after a tense conversation she finally leaves us alone. even if she did try to look friendly at first, i could tell she did not like me.”

“so it was jealousy or something?” yosano guessed, listening intently and you sigh again in return. “i don’t know. i asked osamu about her too and i didn’t really get any answers,” you say as you think about it. why did he barely tell you anything? is he hiding something? god you’re starting to overthink again.

yosano notices your troubled expression and decides to slowly move a little closer to you with her chair. “listen, let me ask you this—how did he react when she started talking to him?” she asks while looking into your eyes. 

“very irritated, in a way that I rarely see.” that’s true, there was a genuine glimpse of anger in his irises, it was surprising even to you. yosano nods and seems to think for a moment before speaking.

“do you trust him?”

you’re slightly caught off guard by the question. of course you trust him. through all the missions you have gone on with him, he always makes your safety the top priority and you know that you can trust him with your life. 

without thinking twice you nod in response and a small smile appears on her face. “then i’m sure you don’t need to get too concerned. plus from what i’ve seen, he loves and cares about you more than anything else.” she tells you with a warm tone.

her words manage to somewhat ease you because she must be right. you love him dearly and he feels the same. and that’s what is important. yeah, you can’t forget that. you give yosano a grateful look. “you’re right, thank you.”

the confidence you had a few hours ago is long gone. you don’t know how long you have been sitting on your bedroom floor alone, stuck in your thoughts. you left the agency a while ago, telling dazai you were going to a case related place so he wouldn’t get suspicious. in reality you couldn’t understand yourself. why are you so upset? even yosano assured you that there’s no need to worry.

everything was fine before going to the cafe and having that encounter with her but it shouldn't matter because it’s plain to see that dazai doesn’t care about her nor like her anymore. it’s not like he’s cheating on you which you know he would never do. but you do wonder how they met, you wonder if they were actually together and on top of all, you wonder what happened between them. 

because despite her cold behaviour, she was gorgeous to say the least. and maybe if you got along with her then she would have a nicer personality as well. honestly yuna seemed like everything you’re not. it makes you doubt yourself. just what does dazai see in you? you have heard his flowery and flattering comments more than you can count but what if he doesn’t mean them?

it’s such a silly thought but you can’t stop pondering over it. you’re so much in your head that you didn’t even notice to hear the soft creak of the door opening.

“love?”

your breath falters. you know that voice all too well. you can’t find it in yourself to answer, keeping your face buried in your arms as your knees are pressed to your chest. you hear him moving and you can tell he’s closer to you now.

“what’s wrong?” dazai asks gently and you can’t help but feel embarrassed since you are not sure how to answer. you wish you could act like you’re fine.

you stay quiet and after a moment he speaks up again. “yosano told me some stuff regarding you,” he says and now you really have no chance of hiding anything. it never crossed your mind that she might tell him. he knows why you are like this and you hate that.

“osamu, why are you with me?” your voice is more unstable than you would’ve liked. you raise your head and see that he’s sitting right beside you on the floor. his gaze goes softer and more concerned when you look at him. you then realise your cheeks are wet.

“why? because i love you of course,” he says so easily, a tender smile adorning his lips. you remain doubtful. “then will you tell me who she was? was yuna really not your ex?” you question him as you can feel your throat getting tighter, desperate for answers.

dazai’s smile fades and he lets out a quiet sigh. “me and her were friends with benefits at best. sometimes i could tell she wanted to be more than that but unbeknownst to her, i was aware of all the other boys she was hanging out with. we had an argument over it and i ended everything with her on the spot.”

you stare at him for a few seconds as you process his words. he is not lying, you can tell that much. you suck in a breath as your vision grows slightly blurry. “i just don’t get it. she was so pretty, osamu. out of all people you chose me when i’m barely anything in comparison to her. i—“ your voice cracks as you try to stop your tears. you have never seen yourself the way he does and at times it scares you because what if one day he will see you exactly like you see yourself?

you avoid his gaze and the fact he hasn’t said a single word makes you want to cry more. he brings his hand to your cheek and slowly guides you back to face him. what greeted you instead of pity was a warm smile and eyes full of fondness.

“my dear, are you hearing yourself right now? without any exaggeration, you’re the most breathtaking woman i have ever met inside and out. i would never love someone so much based off only their appearance. and do you know what makes you so precious?” 

you sniffle as your gaze is connected to his. you can’t help but lean into his touch while his hand cradles the side of your face. “what.?” you ask.

“you make me feel human. you make life worth living and i couldn’t be happier to spend the rest of my days with you.” his tone is filled with tenderness and sincerity. it almost makes you question whether you’re dreaming but his touch wouldn’t feel so real and soothing in any of them. 

and then you smile lightly. you really were overthinking it. as relief washes over you, your body moves on its own and your wrap around his waist, hugging him tightly. dazai returns the gesture and places a kiss on your head, softly rubbing your back. tears were still escaping your eyes but this time it wasn’t out of sadness. 

he suddenly seems to remember something and whispers into your ear. “oh and there are some flowers waiting on the table for you.”

my writing is so weird in this i’m sorry (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Chapter Eight

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @sirenetheblogger @a13x15a5133p @abcdontbotherme @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester @leleunderscore06 @tinymonke @lonelybluesworld @owodi @girl-nahh-two @obeythehuman @berry-efoy @ivorette @the-broken-truth and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags might not have worked, and I’m sorry if so!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Next Chapter: Chapter Nine

WARNINGS: none

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

—-------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, (Y/n)! What have you got there?” Ace was quick to greet you when you walked into the bird exhibit, balancing a box of donuts in one hand as you closed the door behind you.

“I brought donuts!” you said with a wide smile. Ace’s face lit up, “Oh sweet! Is there a cherry flavored one?”

“Huh?” you were surprised by the request, “I’m not entirely sure that exists… either way, I’m afraid I don’t have that flavor. I have strawberry frosted ones though.”

“I’ll take it,” Ace said, reaching greedily for the box in your hand. You walked closer to him and popped the lid open.

“There are so many flavors!” Ace gasped at the sight of the box’s contents, “Say what you want about humans, but they’re real masters at making food.”

“Yup, we’re pretty good at food,” you laughed.

Ace took a donut with pink frosting and sprinkles out of the box and studied it, “Looks kinda girly.”

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like,” you snorted, “The taste is the only thing that matters.”

Ace took a bite and chewed for a moment, savoring the flavor, before his eyes lit up with excitement, “Delicious!” He ate the rest of the donut in two bites.

“So you like cherry?” you asked.

“Cherry pie, at least,” Ace said, “In the rainforest, I lived near a village, and a kind old lady used to give cherry pies to all the halflings.”

“That’s really nice of her,” you said with a fond smile, “Was she sad to see you leave?”

“She died,” Ace said, looking away, “She was long gone by the time I left the rainforest.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, but Ace merely shrugged.

You reached out and took one of Ace’s hands in your own, “I’ll try to bring you a cherry pie one of these days, when I get better at cooking, okay?”

Ace smiled at you, “I’d like that.” He cleared his throat, eyes looking a little watery as he suddenly spread his colorful wings and flew into his birdhouse.

You turned to Deuce’s cage and found him already watching you. 

“Want a donut?” you asked.

He gave you a reproachful look but dipped his hand into the box you offered to him anyways. He chose a simple glazed donut and put it aside for later. You had the feeling he might not be one for sweets.

Still, he looked up at you with a soft smile, a light blush, and a “thank you”. You smiled and told him, “No problem, Deuce.”

You decided to go to Trey next, even though he creeped you out a little with the way he looked at you, as though he knew everything about you with one glance. 

You found him waiting patiently for you to approach him, despite him being an owl in the middle of the day. “I’m surprised you’re not sleeping,” you told him.

“I could never sleep through your visit,” Trey said softly.

“That’s surprisingly sweet,” you replied with a smile.

“Surprisingly?” Trey asked, “Am I not allowed to be sweet?”

“No, it’s just…” you pushed aside your misgivings- it was probably rude of you to be so creeped out by a halfling that did nothing wrong. Owls always had a severe kind of look to them, that’s probably why he scared you, “Nevermind. Would you like a donut?”

Trey took one from your box and smiled at you, “Long time since sweets.”

“When was the last time you had one?” you asked.

“Used to cook. Made tarts,” he explained.

“You made tarts?” you asked, surprised, “I didn’t know halflings could cook!”

“I could,” Trey said, a proud smile sliding across his face.

“That’s amazing!” your earlier misgivings were forgotten. Your heart melted from how soft his smile was. He looked so innocently happy, thinking back to when he made tarts.

He turned his bright smile on you as he took a small bite from the donut he had selected, “I wish I could make tart for you.” 

“I’m not sure how that would work, but maybe someday we could find a way. I would really love to try one of your tarts, Trey.”

His smile widened, “There is a way.”

Suddenly, you felt as though his smile was wrong somehow, as though there was something darker behind his words. Even so, you asked, “What way is that?”

Trey lifted a finger to his lips, corners of his mouth curling upwards, “Secret.”

“Alright then,” you sighed, “Well, I’ve got to give donuts to the others. Bye Trey.”

“Goodbye, (Y/n),” he replied, watching as you walked over to the flamingo’s cage.

You stepped onto the marshland and lifted the box high, “Hey, Riddle, Cater, I have donuts!”

Cater ran forward with a loud “oooh”, but you were more surprised with Riddle’s reaction. The red-haired halfling picked up a strawberry frosted donut with all the care in the world, as though it were a precious, fragile object. He stared at it for a while, even as Cater chowed down on his chocolate donut.

“You brought these… for us?” Riddle asked, “Why?”

“I brought some for the lions, hyenas, and wolves, so I thought it would only be fair,” you said with a shrug.

Riddle continued to stare at his donut in awe until Cater teasingly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Riddle, you are going to eat it, right?”

Riddle’s face turned red immediately and he stuffed the donut into his mouth, tearing a large bite out of it in embarrassment. You held back a giggle and reached out a hand to pat his red hair, “It’s okay, I’m really glad you like it.”

Riddle looked up, face red as a tomato, and met your gaze. His blue eyes widened and he ducked his head, somehow turning even redder. He hurried away, still holding tightly onto his strawberry frosted donut. Cater chuckled and turned back to you.

“Thank you for the donuts. Riddle likes sweets,” he said, “Very much.”

“I didn’t know that about him,” you said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Bring him a strawberry tart,” Cater said in a stage whisper.

“Trey said he makes tarts,” you said.

Cater’s eyes widened, “Yes, I know. Riddle and Trey were childhood friends.”

“That’s so cool!” you took a glance at Trey’s cage and was glad to see it was close enough to the flamingo’s cage that they could talk to each other.

“Yes, well,” Cater looked suddenly uncomfortable, “Riddle’s childhood was not… Well, that’s up to him to share.”

“Oh…” you frowned, looking after the retreating male with sympathy, “I’ll definitely bring him a strawberry tart soon.”

“Thank you,” Cater said, swooping over and landing a kiss on your cheek. You gasped in surprise and placed your fingers over the spot he had kissed. Cater chuckled and waved, running after Riddle and leaving you behind, standing there dumbstruck.

Finally, you managed to pull yourself together and shook your head with a laugh. All of the halflings were so different, and Cater certainly was a character.

You left the flamingo cage and headed for the peacock cage. Vil gave you a disdainful look as you approached them, but Epel and Rook drew closer with interest. 

“Hey, I’ve got donuts!” you sang out. None of them looked particularly thrilled, but they still all took one from your box.

“I’d like to get to know you all better,” you said with a friendly smile, “Is there anything I could bring you guys as a gift?”

“Moisturizer,” Vil said, turning his head as though he couldn’t stand to look at you. It kind of ticked you off, if you were being honest.

“I actually have some in my locker. I can go grab it if you want. I have lotion too.”

Vil and Rook stared at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky. Epel didn’t seem to care as much, merely munching away on his donut. You smiled at him, “You’re looking handsome as ever today, Epel.”

He choked on the donut, blush rising on his cheeks and a hesitant smile gracing his lips as he looked at you fondly, “you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” you said with a smile. Epel blushed and looked away, his feathers puffing out in embarrassment.

“Now, I’ll go get that moisturizer and lotion for you, Vil,” you said, “Do you want anything, Rook?”

“Your kindness is astounding, mademoiselle,” Rook said, fluttering his eyelids as a smile swept across his face, “But I will be happy with moisturizer as well.”

Less than ten minutes later, you were sitting with Rook and Vil, all of your skin care products spread between you all. Vil looked like Christmas had come early.

“Thank you,” he said, genuine to the core. It was the first time you had truly seen him smile- he was truly beautiful with one.

Rook looked on happily, pleased to see the both of you happy. It was a peaceful scene.

If only it could stay that way forever.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch. 3 returning the favor

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 3/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 4.5k

a/n. hope you enjoy! i really had fun incorporating a lot of the other characters in this one.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

|| 9:21AM Gojo Satoru sent you a photo

|| 9:22AM Gojo Satoru: Here’s our practice schedule for the week. Honestly, it’s better if you come when we do practice games or something, since on other days we just do drills or strength training, but coach doesn’t really tell us what we’re doing beforehand so would probs have to play it by ear

|| 9:27AM Gojo Satoru: Oh yeah, we’ve got a big game in three weeks on the 28th. It’ll decide if we’re automatically seeded into the top 16 teams bracket, which is really crucial if we want to eventually bring home the championship. Not sure when your assignment is due, but that would be a good official game to come to 

|| 9:28AM Gojo Satoru: Let me know as soon as you can if you want to make that game. I’ll have to ask coach to get the referee sign-off for you to be on-field during play at least a week before

You look down at all the messages he was sending you during class on a Monday morning. After he sent you that house party details post from his fraternity’s Instagram page last week, their posts kept popping up in your feed and you saw one this morning with a bunch of the guys in the frat, Gojo included, shotgunning beers until 3AM last night. You marvel at how he’s somehow not hungover beyond repair and is texting you before noon. 

Pressing and holding on to his messages, you give him little thumbs up reactions and you decide on a heart reaction for the picture he sent you of the practice schedule. Then, you set your phone down and look at the video of the men’s soccer team highlights your professor was playing from the game a week and a half ago.

“Here, here, this right here. Midfielder #24 surveyed the field, spotting #13 making a run for it down the flank. Pinpoint pass to left winger, who starts steering through defenders, but loses the ball. Then, center forward #10 steals the ball back! He steals the ball, he fucking steals the fucking ball back!” Your professor was running back and forth in front of the projector screen, his finger following the movement of the soccer ball in the video. Your heart jumps a beat when Gojo shows up on screen, with his signature #10 jersey, and some people in the lecture hall stand up in excitement with the professor. “Beelines towards the goal, and BAM! Goalie stood no fucking chance, ball sent immaculately into the back of the net. Victory for UTokyo, 2-1, in the last seconds of the game!" Your professor cheers and jumps up and down. Some people cheer with him, others sigh, others are in awe, and some simply clap. 

Another entire lecture goes by where the professor spends absolutely no time going over film photography theory and instead just talks about how soccer used to be back in his day. You approach him after class, clutching your laptop case to your chest, and it’s only when you clear your throat in front of him that he finally looks up at you from the podium. 

“Oh, y/n, how can I help you?” He asks as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“Hey, professor. Bit of a request, could I have like two extra days for my assignment? There’s this event that I really want to use for the subject matter but it’s the day before the deadline, and I would need some time to develop my photos,” you say in the politest tone you can muster up.

“Yeah, sure. Just get it in before the end of the deadline week,” he says nonchalantly. “Looking forward to seeing it. Good work on the last one, by the way.”

You give him a smile and a word of appreciation before turning on your heel and making it up the stairs to exit the lecture hall, pulling your phone out of your tote bag. 

|| 9:53AM You: i can make it on the 28th. please get that referee permission for me

You press your lips together as you press send, and then type a bit more.

|| 9:54AM You: and thanks a lot

Your stomach is suddenly growling and you’re about to head over to the student hub when your phone starts ringing. You look down at the contact name that says Nobara and pick up.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up,” you say as you make your way towards the heart of campus, enjoying the light breeze as the sun peeked through the clouds. 

“Where are you? Didn’t we have a Film Club meeting today?” She asks you, her tone a bit impatient. “We were supposed to discuss that collaboration with the school newsletter.”

Shoot. You forgot. These days, you were a bit too distracted by recent happenings, like Mina practically falling head-over-heels for a guy that was quite possibly the opposite of her type, the towering amount of class assignments that never seemed to end, and this whole arrangement you were trying to coordinate with Gojo Satoru. The Film Club meeting totally slipped your mind. You were supposed to head out of class a bit early to make it on time. “I’m so sorry, Nobara. I totally forgot about it. I’m unfortunately all the way on the other end of campus right now. I typed up some notes in the document, can you just run those by them? If we need anything else, I’ll reach out to them by email.” 

She sighs on the other end of the line. “Yeah. I’m not good at these conversations, but I guess as President I should be better at them anyways. I’ll let you know how it goes.” And then she hangs up. 

Mentally happy that you were at least free of one other obligation today, you prepare to make your way to the dining hall when your phone vibrates again.

|| 10:01AM Gojo Satoru: Will do, and sure thing. By the way, you free right now? Coach is having us do a practice game, probably for around 2 hours

You squint your eyes at his message, considering the opportunity. You didn’t have any other classes left for the day and were just going to grab something to eat before heading home, but now you wonder if you should make it to this practice session. He did say that you have to be flexible since he doesn’t even know exactly what they’ll end up doing before practice, so you figured this might be your only chance this week to practice capturing shots of them as they play, since it seemed like they had Tuesday & Friday off based on Gojo’s schedule picture. Unfortunately, you only brought your digital camera with you today since your film camera was too heavy to carry around unless you knew you needed it, but you can still do a lot with digital that would help for the film camera shoot. You could make it work.

|| 10:05AM You: yeah, i’m free. i was just gonna grab something to eat first, and then i’ll head over to the field in maybe 15 min. but i’m not exactly sure how to get onto the field, or where the entrance is…

He adds a heart reaction to your message which startles you a little bit. An accident, maybe?

|| 10:06AM Gojo Satoru: Lol, just meet me at that weird art sculpture they put up last semester. The one that cost like all of our tuition money. I’ll walk you to the field

You let out a sigh, somewhat nervous that you'll be seeing him again soon. The last time you saw Gojo was when you left him standing unceremoniously at the kitchen island with a somewhat offending comment. Nonetheless, he didn’t necessarily seem angry at you. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s been way more helpful than you had ever anticipated. You started to feel like the effort you put into getting Mina to go to that house party was nothing compared to the effort he was putting in for you to ace this assignment. 

Stopping by your school’s mini grocery store, you pick up a sandwich plus some strawberry vanilla soda, and take some bites as well as some sips as you leisurely make your way to the expensive art sculpture near the sports fields. As you get closer to it, you see Gojo from a distance talking to some people. A few of them were guys, a few of them girls, and he was laughing out loud at something one of the girls said. A part of you wonders what it’s like to be adored by so many people. 

When he spots you at the other side of the cross walk, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he’s hurriedly saying goodbye to the group in front of him. Their heads turn to each other in confusion before turning their attention in your direction as he makes his way over to you.

“Hey,” he says as he lightly jogs up to the sidewalk you were standing on. You notice he’s wearing a black long sleeve undershirt with a short-sleeved blue one on top, along with some athletic black shorts and running shoes. When he brushes some of his hair away from where it had fallen near his eyes, your heart skips a beat at his handsome expression. A smile graces his face. “You ready?”

You nod, swallowing the mouthful of sandwich you didn’t realize you had stopped chewing, and follow his lead as the two of you cut across behind the batting cages of the school’s softball training area. Your eyes fell to Gojo’s back as he walked on the pavement. His shoulders were broad, shoulder blades pulling the upper half of the fabric of his clothing somewhat taut across as the rest of it freely flowed down to his lean lower back. The long sleeved shirt he wore underneath was pretty loose-fitting, but you could still see the thickness of his muscles. With every step that he took, his calves flexed in a way that made you realize he must really work out.

“What are you eating?” He says as he turns around to face you, walking backwards for a few paces as he looks at your hands.

“Oh, just a veggie sandwich,” you answer as you hold it up next to your face. “Campus delicacy.”

His smile widens. “And what are you drinking?” This time he asks with a bit more curiosity.

“It's strawberry vanilla soda,” you say as you juggle all of the things you were holding in your arms. 

“Can I have some?” He asks with a somewhat innocent tone. “The soda, I mean. I’ve never had that flavor.” 

You hesitate, but alas you were a people-pleaser. “Sure.” 

He halts his movements and so you do too, and he closes the gap between you two in one exaggerated stride. His hand gently pulls the soda bottle out from where it was tucked into your elbow to keep it from falling. You notice the veins on his hand get more defined as he squeezes & twists to release the cap and it sends something akin to a wave of arousal through your body, entirely startling you. But when he brings the bottle up to his lips with his head tipping backwards, drinking directly from it, neck bobbing as he swallows and a single drop trickles down the expanse of his jawline, the arousal directly hits you at your core. 

“Hm,” he licks his lips. “That’s pretty good.” 

You’re standing there in shock, your grip on your sandwich causing dents in the bread. He dabs the stray droplet of liquid at his chin with the back of his hand and turns around to keep walking ahead, making his way up the stairs onto what looks like a grassy field. It takes you a second to start moving too, and by then you need to do a light jog just to catch up to him. 

There’s a comfortable silence that develops between the two of you and when you glance at Gojo, you notice his eyes are closed and there’s a serene smile on his face, a gust of wind pushing the hair up out of his forehead and sending the blades of grass dancing across the hilly field. You smile too at the sensation of cool wind on your skin. It was a beautiful day outside with sparkling sunshine and quiet whistling wind.

“Can I ask you something?” You say after contemplating if you should interrupt his somewhat meditative state. 

“You can ask me anything,” he easily replies. 

“Why are you so willing to help me out with my assignment?” 

He turns his head to look at you with a neutral expression. “Because you did me a favor.” 

You sigh. “I know…but it really wasn’t that hard to convince Mina to go to that party. I feel like you’re helping me out way more than I helped you out.” A small ladybug lands on the fabric of your jeans and you marvel at it before it flutters its wings and flies away.

He’s silent for a second. “Honestly, when you agreed to help me out with Todo’s little crush, which by the way I had to do because I lost a bet, and you mentioned something about terms and conditions in your message,” he starts to say, a brief pause making its way between the sentence as if he was actively trying to relive that first night he was texting you, “I thought you were going to ask for something sexual in return.” 

Your mouth drops at his line of thinking, suddenly mortified. That’s how your message came across to him? Oh my God, you had to rethink how you texted everyone in your life from now on.

“I mean, weren’t you being a little flirty? ‘My terms and conditions will come later’. Or do I just have some weird sexual brain rot?” His eyes are still on you, his tone way too casual in your opinion for this sudden topic of conversation. You also realize that he thinks having sex with him would be returning you the favor. And then you try not to think about how good he probably is in bed. 

When you can’t think of what to say and just stare at him with wide eyes, he smiles and stretches his arms out in front of him as another gust of wind passes by. “Well, anyways, when you shared what you actually wanted from me and it ended up being a pretty earnest request…let’s just say I was emotionally moved by your dreams and aspirations.” He says that last part somewhat dramatically and you roll your eyes, sending him an annoyed look. “A little disappointed, but nonetheless moved.” 

“Wow, you’re the type of person that would trade favors for sex?” you ask him with a sneer to your tone. 

He sends a lazy smirk to you over his shoulder to where you’re trailing behind him now. “Not really, no, can’t say I’ve ever done it before,” he says slyly, “probably would’ve made an exception for you, though.” And then he’s giving you a wink.

You can’t help but blush a little. He was definitely just teasing you, some hobby of his that he does just to constantly get a kick out of the people around him since he knows he just has that much of an effect on them, so you try not to let his words get past your skin to the more vulnerable parts of you. He’s reading your expression before he speaks up again.

“We’ve already started this little return favor of yours, so no take-backs. It’s an eye for an eye. Not an eye for an eye and throw some casual sex in there, too.” He makes his way up what seems to be the largest hill across the field and he stops at the top, peering out at whatever was across from it. When you made your way to the top too, your eyes widened as you saw an expanse of flat grassiness covered in orange cones, green land markers, white chalk outlines, and netted goals. Oh, and a lot of men. “Alright, you freaky little photographer. Here are your muses.” 

You let out the breath you were holding in and smiled, hands immediately reaching for your digital camera case within your tote bag. A wave of creativity and inspiration hit you as you were finally able to lay your eyes on your subject matter and setting, and you couldn’t wait to get started. 

Gojo makes his way down the hill and you stumble after him. He high-fives a couple of his teammates that were leaving the first wave of practice and makes his way over where the second-wave practice players were stretching on the field and running laps.

“C’mon, Itadori, I’ve seen snails with a more urgent sense of direction than you! Pick up those goddamn knees!” You hear a loud voice from a few feet away from you and flinch, eyeing the scary looking man that had a…Pomeranian dog in his arms? He was wearing a black athletic jumpsuit and had extremely tinted, thick sunglasses on. His facial hair was a bit jarring and you immediately decided you were scared of him, despite how gently he was petting the little dog cradled in his arms. 

“That’s coach Yaga,” Gojo says beside you with a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Real nice guy.”

You turn to give him a suspicious look and he just returns it with a wider smile. 

“Hey! It’s y/n,” you hear a somewhat familiar voice call out and you glance at the direction it came from. You see Geto standing next to Nanami and he whacks his hand against the blonde's chest to get his attention when he makes eye contact with you before jogging over. You see Gojo put his hands in his shorts pockets in your periphery. “What are you doing here?” 

You give him a shy smile, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Here to take some photos.”

“Are you with the school newsletter?” Nanami’s smooth voice says as he approaches Geto, standing next to him. They both were wearing matching blue tracksuits. 

“No, I’m not. Just here to…take some photos for one of my classes. It’s for a film photography assignment.” You suddenly wished you were part of the school newsletter committee, so that you could at least provide them with some positive publicity with your photos. You wondered if they would think you’re just using them. As if Gojo could read your mind, he patted Geto harshly on the back and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh.

“Hear that, punks? She wants to try and take some nice photos of you lot. Be grateful! Of course, your grotesque appearances cannot simply be fixed by any technology yet known to man,” Gojo says rather loudly, continuing to smack Geto on the back. Geto has a small pitiful smile on his face and Nanami just looks annoyed. You feel lighter somehow, less tense. 

“Okay, cool, let us know if we can help in any way,” Geto says kindly as he sits down on the grass to continue stretching out his legs. “Oh by the way, Satoru, Chosou’s out sick today so you might need to cover for goalie.” 

“What? Why’s that fucker always getting sick?” Gojo says as he walks towards one of the duffle bags on the bench, and you assume it’s his. He pulls out a water bottle. “He needs to stop eating that goddamn grocery store sushi.” 

“Oh! Oh! It’s you,” another somewhat familiar voice calls out from ahead. You see a guy wearing a dark blue jacket that had a red hood approaching you from the inner field. Then you recognize he was that guy at the entrance of the house party that called you a- “It’s casual tomboy!” 

Your eye twitches slightly as you take in your appearance. Sure, you were wearing jeans again, but your top was somewhat stylish and feminine. He arrives in front of you and notices the digital camera hung at your neck. “Hey, what’s that?” He points directly at your midriff where the camera sat. He almost pokes his finger right through the delicate attachable lens that cost you nearly two months of rent.

“A little rude, Yuuji,” Geto says, grunting as he switches from one stretch to the other. 

Yuuji gets closer to you to study the camera and you instinctively lean away from him before Gojo is grabbing him by the hood of his jacket and yanking him away from you, Yuuji’s arms flailing out in front of himself in a struggle. “Hey, get back to practice. You’re not allowed to talk to pretty seniors.” 

Coach Yaga grunts and crosses his arms from where he stood a few feet away, the tiny pomeranian now barking at his feet. “I never said you could stop running laps, Itadori! Get your ass back out there! I’ll be sending you to recreational soccer for the rest of your freshman year if you don’t get your damn head straight!” Gojo lets go of Itadori’s hood and the poor boy is scrambling across the field to join what seems like the other first-years for their warm-up laps. Coach Yaga turns to you and gives a hmph before vaguely gesturing to you. “May I know what you’re doing out on my field?”

“Coach!” Gojo says, making his way over to the scary man. He slings his arm around his neck and the man just continues to glare at him through his sunglasses. “She’s with me today. Photographer y/n will be taking some handsome photographs of you that you can send to your wife, and then maybe your wife will actually want to-”

Coach Yaga puts Gojo in a headlock and Gojo’s instantly tapping on his back to get him to ease up. “I dare you to finish that sentence, boy.”

You let out a small laugh. This was certainly a lively bunch. Nanami approaches you and expresses interest in your camera. You lift it up for him to take a closer look. He pinches his chin between his bent index finger and thumb, as if he was a detective analyzing a crime scene. “I see…so this is a film camera.” 

“Ah…” you laugh awkwardly. “No, this is just a digital camera.” 

“I see…so this is a digital camera,” he repeats, equally as intrigued. 

The time eventually comes along where all the players start the practice match. There’s obviously not enough players out on the field for full teams on each side, but they’re split into 1st & 4th years vs. 2nd & 3rd years. You learn that the second wave practice group has the talented players at the top of each of their year groups. Gojo doesn’t seem to participate in the practice match despite one team having to omit having a goalie since the coach requested he sit out to watch the plays and make suggestions.  You’re a bit sad you don’t get to see him play, but figured you’ll have a chance in the future. You take a few snapshots as one of the other first-years, a quiet boy named Megumi, kicks the ball towards the goal that ends up bouncing off the goal frame. You spend some time tweaking the exposure, zoom, and focus until you feel like you have a pretty good idea of the settings you’ll need to get some fluid shots. 

When you look up over the field again, raising your digital camera to your face, you notice Gojo looking at you from across the field where he stood at the sidelines. You both keep your gaze on one another for a couple of seconds, and you boldly lift the camera up to your eye, taking a few snapshots of him. When you pull it away, look down at the results on the small screen, and then glance back up at him, his eyes are slightly wide. Something stirs within you when you remember his words from earlier: I thought you were going to ask for something sexual.

Your mind wanders back to the party from last weekend, and the feeling of him leaning down next to your ear in the kitchen as he said “Thanks, I owe you one. Find me later, ‘kay?” The memory itself made your cheeks feel warm. Did he…think that something was going to happen that night at the party? Probably would’ve made an exception for you…Disappointed, but nonetheless moved. Somewhere in the haziness of your thoughts, you realize that meant that Gojo would’ve wanted to sleep with you if that was indeed your condition.

When you look to the other side of the field again, Gojo’s eyes are still on you but his handsome face looks a bit troubled, eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly pursed. You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking, but for some reason you felt like he could tell what you were. When you raised an eyebrow at him, his face relaxed and he slowly shook his head as if to say it's nothing. 

Coach Yaga’s sharp whistle cuts through the silent conversation you two were having as he yells, “alright, boys. Practice over! Go stretch yourselves out.” 

You quickly stuff your digital camera back into its case and collect your things into your tote bag. In your peripheral vision, Gojo’s making his way over to you and when he’s right next to you, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“How’d it go? Get some good shots?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” You’re still not looking at him, pretending to fiddle with something in your tote bag. He leans down a bit to look at your face more clearly when he notices you’re not meeting his gaze, but you still struggle to make eye contact with him. “I’ve gotta go, can you tell the guys I said bye?” And then you’re making your way up the hill.

There’s a beat of silence as confusion washes over him from your behavior. “Hey, wait, y/n, do you know how to get back to campus?”

You spin to face him when you're at the top of the hill, finally looking him in the eye. There’s a concerned expression on his face. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Thanks a lot for today. Let me buy you a strawberry vanilla soda sometime, okay?” Flashing him a small smile, you turn around and run down the hill, ignoring the fast beating of your heart.

a/n. thanks a bunch for reading!

➸ take me to chapter four!

[oddballwriter]

The Baby Dream

Summary: You tend to have "the baby dream" every once in a while, but you never really mentioned it to your boyfriend Marc let alone had a conversation about having a baby with him in general. You tell him about the one you just had this time.

Warnings: not really anything real to warn about other than the reader's character feels a little sad when they find out that their baby was only something in their dream. Implied afab reader and implied that they breastfeed their baby. 

Author’s Snip: I have a mix of baby fever and recently had a baby dream of my own so I decided to use that as a prompt.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 618

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (you too can join my tag list, just ask)

The sound of a small soft grunt and whine wakes you right up. The morning sun breaches through the bedroom curtains and gives the room a soft lighting that makes the room visible without burning your still sleepy eyes. You look around for a bit, finding Marc still asleep and snoring softly. You sit up in bed and find the source of the noise, seeing a crib in the corner of the room along the wall.

Oh, looks like Mel's awake. Who's Mel? You and Marc's baby daughter of course!

You get up, careful not to wake Marc since he dealt with her waking up and crying in the middle of the night. Walking over to her crib, you look down and see her look back at you with her cute little eyes. They look just like the boys', all big and doe-like.

You scoop her up and out of her crib and cradle her in your arms. You feel her weight in your arms along with her squirming slightly to get comfortable.

"Good morning," you softly coo, "How'd you sleep? Huh?" you ask her. Of course, she can't answer, but judging that she didn't wake up crying like she usually does when she's had trouble sleeping, she slept just fine. Mel's tiny hands grip your pajama shirt. "I see we want breakfast now," you comment in response to her grabbing.

You walk back to the bed so that you can be comfortable while you feed her, but when you're supposed feel yourself sit, you wake up.

The room looks just the same, say for the fact that Marc is in the act of getting up out of bed this time. "Oh shit, sorry, hun. Did I wake you up?" Marc asks. You shake your head and carefully sit up and look towards the corner where Mel's crib was, but there's nothing there. No crib or baby...

Right. You don't have a baby together. It was just another baby dream that you have occasionally. You feel a bit of weight in your chest at the fact that you and Marc's baby girl wasn't real. Even though she only existed in your dream for a moment it felt so real. Like you actually had her and took care of her.

You realize that you're starting to tear up and shake off the feeling. "Sorry, I just had a dream," you explain. "Do you want to talk about it?" Marc gently asks. You take a moment and then a breath. "We had a baby," you say, "That was it. We had a baby together and I woke up to her waking up and I held her for a bit before I actually woke up." you explain further. "It's a normal thing. I have dreams where I have a baby from time to time." you mention.

Marc just look at you for a second. You look towards him to see what has him so quiet. He has that look on his face when he's thinking about something and trying to choose his words. You let him do his thinking before he finally speaks. "Do... you want a baby?" he asks.

"Yes?" you say, unsure yourself. "I don't know. It's sort of a hormone thing, like baby fever," you say. "We've never really had that talk before, I know. So I don't know if you want to have kids," you mention. "Okay, but do you want to have kids someday?" Marc rephrases his question. "Yeah. I'd like to have a family with you someday when we're ready." you answer.

Marc nods. "Yeah..." he says, "I think that would be a good conversation to have sometime soon." he adds with a slight smile.

[fettuccin-e]

Better Than Nine to Five

hi guys i wrote this quite a while ago!! i had trouble with the beginning but, like with most things i write, the words started coming as soon as the characters started coming (get it?? get it cause like cum) but ANYWAY pls enjoy the poly!steddie content!!

Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson, established poly, dp in one hole, brief use of sex toys, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv

Steve can barely ever get off work these days. He hasn’t been as fortunate in the job market as you or Eddie; the both of you have pretty strict 9 to 5 jobs, able to sit and relax after a day at work, knowing what your schedule will be the next week, and the week after that. Steve’s schedule, at best, is random and wildly inconvenient, working late shifts almost every night and waking up the next day with you and Eddie already gone to work, alone in your shared bed.

He hates it, you and Eddie know he does, but he puts up with it, wanting to help all of you save up for a house, a pretty one that’s the exact opposite of the run-down, shitty apartment that you all live in.

You and Eddie also know, however, that Steve needs a chance to fucking relax for once. And if there’s anything you both know how to do, it’s how to make your sweet, loving Stevie let out some steam.

It’s Eddie who calls Keith and tells him to let Steve out early for the day. “He needs tomorrow off too,” Eddie says, twisting his finger around the phone cord.

“No fucking way, Munson. I’m already doing a favor for him by letting him out today, but he’s coming in tomorrow, whether he likes it or not.”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, eyes narrowed and angry, but you rip the phone from hics grasp.

“Look Keith, either you let Steve off tomorrow, or I'm going to the cops to tell them about the stash of weed you’ve got in your office. That we an smell it all throughout the damn store. And wouldn’t that just be a crying shame?” you snarl into the receiver.

“It was your freak boyfriend who sold me that shit in the first place!”

You nearly laugh at the high-pitched indignance in his voice. “Are you really gonna tell them that, Keith? Maybe I’ll also throw in the fact that they should probably look into your tax records, right? I bet there are some glaring inconsistencies, aren’t there?”

“You fucking bitc-” You hear Keith stop himself, sighing angrily. You hear a loud crash in the background just before he says, “I’ll let him off tomorrow, but you stay the fuck out of my business, you got that? I’ll-”

“Not a chance, maybe try being less of a shit person. Bye Keith!” You don’t give him a chance to respond, slamming the phone down.

Eddie watches you with wide eyes, before smirking, pupils blown and dark as he grabs your waist to pull you in for a hot, messy kiss. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad like that, baby.”

You giggle, reaching a hand up to play with his messy curls. “Gotta stand up for my boys, don’t I baby?” You step away from him, grabbing his hand to drag him to your bedroom. “C’mon, Eds, you gotta get me ready for Stevie, right?”

Eddie nearly faceplants into the carpet in his race to get to the bed.

It’s only an hour later that Steve unlocks the door to the apartment, stripping his vest off. Keith had stumbled out of his office earlier that day, mumbling something about, “go home early, Harrington, shit. Just wait till like, six or something, and you can go.” Steve had been confused, but decided not to question it, his heart galloping at the thought of spending the evening with the both of you for the first time in far too long.

Except the apartment seems almost empty when he walks in, all of the lights off and the living room and kitchen empty, devoid of both yours and Eddie’s presence. His heart drops, only for a second, thinking that he’s alone in the apartment, before he hears a loud, keening whine come from the bedroom.

Your unmistakable whine, followed by Eddie’s familiar whispered praises of “shh… baby I know, I know. It’s a lot, but I think he’s home, did you hear the door open baby? He’s gonna think you’re so pretty baby, so good, planning all this out for him.”

You answer Eddie with a choked sob, and Steve’s pants suddenly are far too tight, cock bulging almost immediately. He goes to open the door, and the sight that greets him almost makes him pass out on the spot.

You, with your hips hiked up in Eddie’s grasp, your flushed face pushed into the mattress as Eddie works his cock into you, his pretty hips slapping against your plush ass. Eddie’s head snaps over to the bedroom door, mouth pulled into a self-satisfied smirk while he keeps fucking you.

“Look, baby,” Eddie grunts, lifting his hand to give your ass a loud smack. You jerk, head turning to see what Eddie wants, and smile blearily at the sight of Steve.

“S-Stevie, you’re, ah, home,” you slur, struggling to get the words out between Eddie’s strong thrusts into your needy pussy.

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes darken, his big hand moving down to palm at the bulge of his cock through his pants. “She’s been waiting for you, Harrington,” Eddie says, sounding almost like he isn’t fucking you stupid. “She had this all planned out, wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, uh, consider-” Steve coughs, eyes trained on Eddie disappearing into your pretty cunt over and over. “Consider me surprised baby.”

Eddie chuckles, and Steve’s eyes snap from where you both are connected. “Steve, this isn’t even the best part.”

“What?”

“C’mere,” Eddie mumbles, and you whine as he stops his thrusts. Eddie beckons Steve over with a playful finger, and Steve moves next to him, kneeling on the bed to see what Eddie thinks is so important.

Steve nearly chokes on his spit. Because there, in your dripping cunt, is a pretty blue dildo, shoved inside you right alongside Eddie’s cock.

“She wanted to take both of us today,” Eddie whispers into his ear, and Steve can hear Eddie’s smug smile. “Been working her open for the past hour, waiting for you to get home.”

Oh fuck. “Oh fuck,” Steve says, echoing his own thoughts. He smooths a hand over the soft skin of your ass, and you whimper softly.

“You like it?” you ask, almost tentatively, and Steve almost laughs at the absurdity of the question.

“Like it?” Steve says softly. His hand moves from your ass to push lightly on the base of the dildo, making you gasp sharply. “Baby, I love it. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You gonna take your clothes off, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs. “She’s been waiting so long for us, it seems cruel to make her wait any longer.” 

Steve follows Eddie’s vaguely concealed demand at an almost frantic speed, ripping off his shirt so fast it gets stuck on his arm for a second. He ignores Eddie’s tiny laugh. He stands off the bed to untie his shoes and shuck his pants off, his hard cock slapping harshly against his stomach. 

“C’mon baby,” Eddie whispers to you, “gotta let Stevie lay down, right? So you can sit on his pretty cock, yeah?” Eddie's mouth waters just a little at the sight of his boyfriend, hard cock glistening and hairy chest heaving. He looks fucking illegal, Eddie thinks. You nod your assent, but still whine as Eddie shuffles back, his cock slipping out of you along with the dildo, leaving you painfully empty for the first time in an hour. 

Steve follows Eddie’s instruction, laying down on the bed, while you kneel up, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. You lean forward to brush your lips against his, smiling softly.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whisper, and he smiles back at you, curling his fingers into your hair. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, before crushing his mouth to yours. He feels Eddie grab his cock, notching it up against the entrance of your pussy, and suddenly you’re sinking down, down, sucking him into your sticky walls, making all three of you moan in unison. You and Steve breathe heavily into each other’s mouths as your ass finally meets Steve’s heavy balls, buried all the way inside.

“God, fucking shit, you both are so fucking hot, Jesus,” Eddie grunts from behind you, and you both can hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s hand slipping up and down his cock, still sticky with your juices.

You turn, smiling softly at Eddie’s blushing face, his lips parted as he looks at you both. “Eddie,” you whisper, “You can’t cum yet. Y’gotta fuck me too, right baby?”

Eddie curses again, before kneeling behind you, just like he had been a few minutes before. ”You are a fucking minx, you know that?” He mumbles, and you would giggle if it weren’t for the blunt tip of Eddie’s cock nudging against your opening, right beside Steve.

“Ah- Oh God-d” you whine as Eddie’s fat cockhead pops into your stretched out pussy. You thought you would be prepared for it, with the dildo, but you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for this. Eddie’s sticky cock nudging along Steve’s as he sinks deep into you, Steve’s warm hairy body beneath you, his big hands on your waist while Eddie radiates heat above you.

Steve’s not doing much better, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the feeling of Eddie’s gorgeous cock squished against his, the hot walls of your pussy strangling the both of them. Eddie’s hands are clutched into the bedsheets beside your sweaty bodies, and Steve takes his hands off your waist for just a second to grab Eddie’s hands, entwining their fingers together to hold onto your waist at the same time. You all take a minute to just breathe, allowing your pussy to adjust to the stretch of both of them.

They’re both whispering breathless praises into your ears, trying to get through to your cloudy brain. “So, so good for us, baby, taking us so good,” and “Can’t believe we’ve got you baby, you’re so pretty, so, so good for us. Y’feel so good, princess, fuck.” You can’t even discern whose voice is whose anymore, lost in a sea of pleasure and nearly-painful fullness, their cocks reaching so deep inside, pressing into every crevice of your sensitive pussy.

And then they start to move.

You try to gasp air into your empty lungs through your screams and cries of pure fucking pleasure, the both of them thrusting in tandem to bully your pretty pussy open for them again and again. Eddie’s face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing comforting kisses into your skin between whispers of “doing so good, princess,” and “y’feel how wide you’re stretched baby? Fuck, you’re so sexy, sweetheart, how’d we manage to land you?”

Steve’s groaning praises of his own, primal grunts of “so fucking sexy,” and “our pretty, gorgeous baby. God, can’t believe I’ve got you both,” before licking into your mouth in messy kisses.

You knew, even while planning this, that none of you were going to last long, and you’re a strange mixture of pleased and slightly disappointed to learn that you’re right. The knot in your stomach is tight, tightening and tightening as they rock into you, the overwhelming stretch of both of them keeping them pressing into your g-spot. You’re choking on your own spit as moans try to escape your throat. 

It’s going to be over far too soon, but knowing that you can take them both, that you three could do this again, makes your pussy clench, your clit throbbing. 

After only a few minutes of Steve’s and Eddie’s strong thrusts into your dripping cunt, grinding overwhelmingly against the spot that makes you sob, you reach your hands into both Steve’s and Eddie’s hair, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“I’m gonna, oh God, I-I can’t, I’m gonna,” you gasp painfully, tears leaking down your flushed face, not even able to get the words out, before your pussy is clenching hard around both Steve and Eddie. You’re shaking like a leaf, overwhelmed and wrung dry as Steve and Eddie rub their joined hands up and down your waist.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking t-tight,” Eddie whimpers, composure fully lost. “Steve, I gotta-I gotta, gotta cum.”

Steve nods frantically, unable to form words, before he’s releasing one of Eddie’s hands to instead cup around his boyfriend’s head, dragging him down to meet his lips, licking into his mouth over your shoulder. Their hips stutter as they finally, finally cum, flooding  your dripping pussy with a mixture of both of them.

You all breathe heavily for a moment, the room feeling hazy. Like heaven, Steve thinks, this is like heaven. You know you can’t move, feeling drunk and ripped apart, but your boys know it too. They slip gently out of your used pussy, Steve moving you to his side to cuddle you into him gently. Eddie steps out for just a moment, coming back in with a warm, damp cloth.

“Baby, Eds is going to clean you up real quick, okay?” Steve whispers, and you whimper softly, nodding your head, your eyes still closed. Eddie takes the permission to wipe the sweat off your body, and clean up a little of the mess between your legs.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers when he’s done, pecking you softly on your sleepy lips, before turning to give Steve a quick kiss. He throws the cloth in the hamper, knowing you would hate to make up to it laying on the floor, before laying on the other side of you, pressing himself comfortingly against your naked body. Steve reaches down to tug to the sheets over each of you, and grabs Eddie’s hand to hold, their palms resting atop your warm body.

“Shit, I’m gonna have t’call off work tomorrow,” Steve mutters into your hair.

“Don’ worry bout it,” you slur, sleep already whisking you away. “I took care of it.”

“She did,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow, she was fucking hot.”

“She always is,” Steve smiles, chest hurting with happiness and sheer, unadulterated love. “Our perfect girl.”

[solarmorrigan]

Open Doors, part 2

Part 1 | Ao3

Tags: POV Outsider, Steve Harrington Has Migraines, Protective Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Abandonment Issues, Eddie Munson Has Control Issues, it's okay though they love each other and they'll work on it, Past Domestic Violence, (not between any of the main characters; does not go into detail), Arguing, the looming specter of period-typical homophobia, Happy Endings Only I promise

-

The walls in the building are hardly paper-thin, but they aren’t that thick, either. Gladys registers, if distantly, when the sound of raised voices travels from one of the other apartments down the hall. The sound of a door slamming not long after that is a bit louder.

She’s tempted to get up and see who it is that’s apparently storming out—just a quick peek—but she’s really hit a stride in her knitting and can’t be bothered to get up.

Of course, she has no choice when her doorbell rings about half an hour later.

Whoever she’d expected to find on the other side, it hadn’t been Steve – at least, she hadn’t been expecting Steve with his shoulders slumped and his eyes a bit red, trying to smile and give her a little wave like everything is completely normal.

“Hey, Gladys. Are you, um– busy?”

“Just knitting,” Gladys answers, peering at him carefully through her thick glasses. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, really, I just– y’know, just thought I’d come say ‘hi’.” Steve shrugs; his voice is convincing, but his posture tells another story, his body holding itself tense and curled-in, like it’s trying to protect him.

Gladys steps aside. “Come on in.”

Steve lets out a little sigh, something almost relieved in it as he crosses the threshold.

“Something to drink?” Gladys asks as she shuts the door behind him.

“Sure, if you’re having something,” Steve says.

Gladys glances at the clock. It’s after eight, and Steve’s never said no to an evening cup of coffee, but something tells her he doesn’t need any caffeine right now. “I’ll make us some tea,” she decides.

They trade pleasantries while the water boils and the tea steeps, but once they’re both seated at her little kitchen table, mugs in hand, Gladys sees no reason in beating around the bush.

“Was that you boys yelling?” she asks.

Steve, his posture still tense, somehow goes even stiffer in his chair. “You heard that?”

“Nothing clearly, but the walls aren’t that thick.” Gladys pauses, considering. “Heard the door slam, too.”

Pursing his lips, Steve nods. “Yeah, we, uh… got into it a little, I guess,” he says quietly, eyes trained on the table.

“Over what?”

Steve sighs, letting his head drop for a moment as he rubs at the back of his neck. “Stupid stuff,” he says. “I think it started over whose turn it was to do the dishes?”

Gladys nods, taking a quiet sip of her tea and encouraging him to go on.

“It’s just– Eddie hasn’t been letting me do them,” Steve huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You know, that’s not the complaint I expected,” Gladys raises a brow. “Most people are happy when someone does the dishes for them.”

“I mean– yeah, I was kind of enjoying it at first, but it’s been over a week and it’s just getting annoying. And he doesn’t do them right! He puts things in the dishwasher that don’t belong in the dishwasher!” Steve insists. “Which… I may have shouted at him about. And then he told me that I’m too fussy. I’m not goddamn fussy.”

He’s a little fussy, but Gladys keeps that thought to herself for the moment.

“He gets into these moods where he won’t let me do anything. Like, he just kind of takes over, decides for me what I’m capable of doing.” Steve reaches out and clutches his mug, though he makes no move to drink from it. “Like I don’t know my own body’s limitations, or like we don’t both know what my migraine triggers are. Doing chores around the house isn’t one of them.”

Ah. So that’s what this is all about.

It’s been nearly two weeks since Gladys had found Eddie caring for Steve and his migraine; he’d said that day it had been a bad one, and he hadn’t been kidding. Steve had been lain up another two days after that, and even then, when Gladys had next seen him, he’d still looked a bit pale. Eddie himself had looked drawn and tired, hovering much closer to Steve than he usually did outside the apartment.

“You scared him, I think, last week,” Gladys says. “He worries about you.”

“What, like I don’t worry about him?” Steve snaps. “He– There was… a few years ago, there was sort of a freak earthquake in our town. And Eddie, he– he was hurt pretty badly.”

Gladys has seen hints of scars on Eddie’s sides and arms when he’s been puttering around his own home in loose, loungey clothes, just the same as she can plainly see the faded scar wrapped around Steve’s neck, and some on the backs of his arms when he wears short sleeves. The more she gets to know her boys, the more she wonders about them – worries about them. But she supposes now isn’t the time to press.

“He healed up really well, like, all things considered. I made sure he went to all his physical therapy appointments and everything, but I know there are days when he still feels it, and he just pushes through, and he never gets enough sleep, and he just–” Steve leaves off with a harsh sigh. “I know he’s trying to help, but he just stresses me out every time he does this.”

He takes a sullen sip of his tea, and Gladys nods.

“You know, when Avery and I got married, my mother told me that when we fought, we should never go to bed angry–”

Steve’s eyes snap back to Gladys, startled and wide. “Eddie and I aren’t married–”

“–but that’s just bunk.” Gladys catches herself, shaking her head. “Both bits. The bit about not going to bed angry and the bit about you and Eddie not being married. I’m sure you would be, if you could be.”

Letting out the most forced laugh Gladys has ever heard, Steve shakes his head. “Why would we be married? I mean we’re both– and even if that was possible, Eddie is just my roommate. I mean– he’s one of my best friends, obviously, but we’re not–”

“Steve,” Gladys cuts in dryly, “how dumb do you think I am?”

Steve grimaces. “I don’t think you’re dumb,” he mutters.

Taking in the way his shoulders are drawn up around his ears, the way he’s let go of his mug and has pushed back just a bit from the table, like he’s preparing to get up and leave—to run from her, of all people—Gladys places a gentle hand on his arm before he can draw away entirely.

“It’s okay, dear,” she tells him. “You’re safe with me.”

“I– You don’t… care?” Steve asks carefully.

“Why should I care? Are you two hurting anyone?”

“Of course not.” Steve shakes his head, frowning. “But a lot of people have shitty stuff to say about– people like us. How we’re disgusting, or how we should be illegal, or– stuff like that.”

Gladys snorts. “A lot of people are ridiculous.”

Steve shrugs, sitting back in his chair. “At this point, I just… don’t assume anyone is on our side. And I know that sounds awful, but it’s kept us safe.”

Gladys blows out a long sigh and takes a deep pull from her mug. She doesn’t drink anymore, but some conversations still feel like they should be had over glasses of liquor; she supposes the tea will have to do.

“You know, Avery and I grew up together. We lived down the street from each other, but we spent more time at my house than at his. He didn’t like being at home. His mother was the sweetest woman you’d ever meet – kind and soft-spoken and gentle. But if she was the sweetest, then his father was the meanest.” Gladys pauses, lost for a moment in her thoughts. “He hit her. He screamed at her, belittled her. He took that good, kind woman and ground her down and used her up until there was nothing left, and no one did a god damned thing. I remember being so baffled as a child, why everyone just let it happen. I still don’t understand.

“That should have disgusted people. That should have been illegal,” Gladys says sharply, looking back up at Steve. “There are men out there hitting their wives, women screaming at their husbands, but the relationships everyone feels the need to stop are the ones with two men kissing each other? That’s the great evil?”

Steve gives her a tiny, sardonic smile. “Sometimes it’s the ones with two women.”

“Oh, of course, how could I overlook that?” Gladys rolls her eyes. “People need to gain some perspective. You and Eddie love each other, that much is clear. You’re good to each other. Why should I care about anything else?”

Slowly, Steve shakes his head. “I guess you shouldn’t.”

“You guess right,” Gladys says, nodding. “Now, about my mother’s advice.”

“My mom used to say that, too. About not going to bed angry,” Steve says. “Used to wonder how she got any sleep, then, considering how much time she spent being mad at my dad.”

Gladys hums. “Well, like I said: bunk. Not every little fight can be resolved before bedtime. Sometimes you need to sleep on it. Sometimes you need time to cool off. Sometimes you need a little space. The important part is that you’ll both be there in the morning,” she says. “The important part is that you don’t give up.”

Steve only seems to wilt at that, staring into his mug. “I’m not sure Eddie will be there in the morning. He left. I ended up coming over here because the apartment just didn’t feel right without him there.”

“I can sympathize,” Gladys says, and Steve winces.

“Sorry,” he says, glancing up. “This must seem kinda petty to you.”

“I said I understand.” Gladys reaches out and grips Steve’s wrist, giving it an affectionate little shake. “I don’t think it’s silly at all.”

Steve manages a twitch of a smile, but it falls quickly. “I just… What if I managed to chase him away? I’m really not sure what I’d do if he didn’t want to come back.”

“Well that’s silly,” Gladys declares. “Steve, you couldn’t chase that man away if you tried. He looks at you like you hung the stars. You’re the sun he orbits around.”

This time, Steve’s smile lasts more than a moment, small as it is. “You’re starting to sound like him.”

“Good, then maybe you’ll listen to me. Mark my words, he’ll be back,” Gladys says.

Steve nods; he still looks uncertain, but Gladys figures she’s sure enough for the both of them. She’s seen the way they look at each other, the way the act around each other, now that she knows what to look for. They’re more than just smitten; there’s a sort of baked-in trust and understanding there that doesn’t come easily, and she doubts if it will be shaken by a single shouting match.

All the same, she lets Steve change the subject after that, following along as he relays some gossip about some of his classmates, and they keep talking until some time later, when Gladys’ doorbell rings for a second time that evening.

She and Steve exchange confused glances before Gladys gets up and moves to the hallway to answer the door. And there, looking just as worn and worried as Steve, is Eddie.

“Hey, Gladys,” he greets, lacking his usual charming grin. “I just wanted to ask if Steve had been by here at all? He wasn’t at the apartment and– uh…”

He trails off, his gaze snapping to the hallway behind Gladys, and she doesn’t have to turn around to know that Steve is standing there.

“Hey,” Steve says quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie blurts. “For yelling. And for leaving. And for other stuff. But especially for leaving. I’m really, really sorry about that.”

Gladys shuffles a bit to the side, since she’s apparently been forgotten, anyway.

“It’s okay,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, too. For yelling, and for other stuff that we should probably talk about.”

Eddie nods, biting down on the tiny, hopeful smile that’s tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees quickly. “Let’s go home.”

Eddie’s hand twitches at his side, like he’s fighting the urge to reach out, but Steve goes to him anyway. Before he’s out the door, however, he pivots and turns to Gladys, wrapping her up in a quick hug.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“Any time, dear,” Gladys says, patting him on the back before he releases her. “I’ll still expect you both on Sunday.”

The boys exchange a quick glance.

“We’ll be here,” Steve says, and Eddie nods along.

“Neither wild horses nor our own stupidity could keep us away,” Eddie declares, and Steve snorts.

They walk close together as they head back to their own apartment, their knuckles occasionally bumping between them. Gladys hovers by the door just long enough to hear Steve as he tells Eddie, “So she knows everything.”

“I knew it,” Eddie hisses.

Gladys shuts her door with a laugh.

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑨 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝑶𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒐𝒏

Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: After you and Seonghwa planned a date, he unfortunately falls ill the day of the events. But you two still find a way to make the most of a bad situation.

WC: 2k

CW: Sick fic, fluffy, so fluffy, lots of fluffy, crying, comfort, cuddles, kisses, lots of fluff and Animal Crossing

AN: Oh wow, another sick fic, your bias is showing, Cheeto. /j

No, but in truth, I've had this in the drafts for over a month and a half and finally wrote it all in a sprint to get myself out of this writing slump I've been in. I guess you all will be the judge of if I managed to put out something of good quality.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, as always!

Tag List: @cherrycel @mxnsxngie @malldreamprincess @asjkdk

You gently held your boyfriend’s burning cheek as you placed the thermometer into his ear. You watched the little screen as you pressed the button, and only a few seconds later, it lit up and beeped in a panicked manner. 

You let out a soft sigh of disappointment, while Seonghwa let out a pained whine as he covered his face with his hands. This was a rare day, in which Seonghwa was free from his busy idol life, and you two had planned to go to dinner to spend time with each other. 

But as luck would have it, he’d awoken that morning to a pounding headache and body aches, and his now confirmed fever of over 100. The universe decided you weren’t having your dinner date tonight, and had to tell you in the rudest way possible. 

You put the thermometer back into its box as you got up from his bed. “I guess I’ll go get you an ice pack and some medicine,” you said dejectedly, leaving the room on a mission to get said items. 

A sigh left your lips as you pulled the ice pack from the freezer. It wasn’t Seonghwa’s fault he got sick, but that probably made it worse. The one day you had together, the first day in months, was ruined by something neither of you could possibly control. 

Frustration crept in as you grabbed the bottle of medicine from the bathroom cabinet, accidently knocking another bottle over in the process. Another sigh left you as you put the bottle back up, muttering curses that would make a sailor blush. 

Despite his fever, you were still planning to stay and take care of Seonghwa. That is, if he wasn’t stubborn and told you he’d be fine on his own. As much as it annoyed you, you did the same thing, so it was a mutual annoyance between you two. 

“Hwa, I have-” You began to say as you walked back into his bedroom, but stopped when you saw Seonghwa with his head in his hands, softly crying. 

You put both items on his desk and rushed over to sit in front of him, gently putting your hands on his arms, all frustration instantly leaving your body in favor of worry. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, still keeping his face covered. “I know you were excited about this, and you waited so long, I’m-” 

“Baby, shh,” you cut him off, pulling his hands away from his face. His face was even more red than before, almost like a cartoon character. You couldn’t help but pout at the sight, and quickly grabbed the ice pack to press it against his cheek. Seonghwa gratefully leaned into the cool touch, his eyes falling closed as he did. 

“I’m not mad,” you continued. “Well, I am, but it’s not your fault.” 

“But now we can’t go out.” He paused and sniffled, grabbing a tissue and wiping his nose. “And if you stay here, you’ll get sick.” 

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” 

Seonghwa shook his head. “You have to work too-”

“And I’ll call off if I need to.” You reached up with your other hand and held his burning face, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “Even if we can’t go out, we still have the day to be together. I’d rather spend it taking care of you than not being with you at all.” 

Seonghwa smiled, but it was a weak one that didn’t reach his eyes. Of course he was grateful for you, and the help you were willing to give him. But he also knew that he’d feel incredibly guilty in a few days when you would wake up feeling like he did right now. 

But when he looked into your eyes, and saw the love in them, and the little smile you were giving him as you held the ice pack against his face, he didn’t have it in him to tell you to leave. 

And the idea of watching you leave when he could barely get out of bed on his own made his heart shatter. 

So Seonghwa nodded and reached up to hold your hand. “Then please, stay.” 

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, tokki.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes lit up at the name. This time, his smile was big and genuine. You pressed a kiss to his warm, slightly damp forehead before you pulled back to get the bottle of medicine. Seonghwa took the ice pack and pressed it against the rest of his face, trying to spread the cool feeling as far as he could. 

Seonghwa gratefully accepted the dose of medicine you gave him, even though he gagged at the taste of it. You couldn’t help but giggle at the face he made. He just pouted and put the ice pack back on his forehead. 

You leaned back down and smoothed his damp hair back as he did. “I can make you some tea if you want,” you offered, to which he gratefully nodded as he closed his eyes. 

“Yes please,” he breathed. He adjusted himself to lay back down on the pillows and pull the blanket up to his chest, one hand still keeping the ice pack on his forehand. 

With that, you went on another mission to make your boyfriend a cup of tea. 

As you did, you passed your things you’d left on the kitchen counter, one of them being the case which held your Nintendo Switch. You and Seonghwa had planned to play Animal Crossing together after your dinner date. 

And suddenly, at that moment, you had an idea of how to save your date night. 

You walked back into Seonghwa’s room, his tea in one hand, your Switch in the other, with a huge smile on your face. Seonghwa’s eyebrows went down as he looked at you, but his whole face lit up when he saw the Switch in your hand. 

The two of you wasted no time getting both your games set up, and also getting comfortable. You crawled up onto Seonghwa’s bed to sit on his left side and slid underneath his blanket to cuddle up to him. 

“Are we going to your island or mine?” Seonghwa asked as his game finished loading. His little character came out of his house as the chimes played, dressed very nicely in formal clothes. 

You smiled to yourself as you made your character run across your island. “I want you to come to mine, I have something set up.” 

“You set something up for this?” 

“I did, you have to come look.” You ran into your island’s airport to open the gate so Seonghwa could see the surprise you’d spent days working on. 

Seonghwa excitedly made his character start running across the island, but suddenly stopped, and ran back towards his house. You looked up at his TV to see what he was doing, but Seonghwa waved his hand to make you look away. 

“Don’t look, I have a surprise for you too!” 

“Okay, I won’t look!” You said with a giggle, looking back down at your own Switch as you finished opening the gate. 

It was only a few minutes later that Seonghwa had arrived on your island. You used a little wave emote as his character stepped out of the airport, to which he did it back. 

“So where’s this surprise?” He asked, walking off of the little wooden dock. 

“I’ll show you.” You began walking through your island, of which you and Seonghwa had done many times before. You two had helped each other build your islands, trading items, sending gifts, helping each other cheat the natural progression of the game just because you could. 

You two were connected through this game. It was a part of your relationship just like any other. It held a special place in your heart, and it made you smile when you’d go back and watch clips of you two together, chasing each other with various tools, or messing with the other villagers. 

You and Seonghwa finally made your way to a part of the island away from all the other houses and buildings. Seonghwa gasped when he saw it come into view, and your heart swelled as a smile spread across your face. 

There was a gated garden, with trees and flowers of every kind everywhere. A custom dirt path led you through the various flora, with paper lanterns along the sides to light your way. There were statues in small clearings, and small streams separated the different sections from each other. 

You and Seonghwa followed the path until you came to a table with two chairs. The table had a candle and two meals sitting on top of it, with the moon hanging in the sky behind it and the sky full of stars. 

“Sweetheart,” Seonghwa whispered, staring at the TV as he slowly walked around and looked at everything. “You made this for tonight?” He looked at you, and you couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. 

“I did,” you said softly. “I made it for you.” 

Seonghwa smiled, but it quickly turned to a pout, and he put his controller down to hug you. You dropped your Switch onto the blanket and hugged him back. 

“I love you.” His voice was hoarse and soft. You slowly rubbed his back as you heard him sniffle again. “You’re wonderful.” 

“I love you too, tokki.” 

You two stayed like that for a while. With your two characters standing beside each other in the garden you made, with the soft ambient noises of the insects and water, the gentle music alongside it as you two were wrapped in each other’s arms in the real world, you knew love could never be felt like this by anyone else. 

Love is an incredibly unique thing, and a love like this couldn’t ever be explained to anyone else. The greatest poets in the world could write about love for centuries to come, but the love you both felt in that moment would pale in comparison to anything anyone could write. 

Seonghwa eventually let you go to rub his eyes. You leaned your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arm around his. He relaxed into you as he reached for his controller. 

“I’d kiss you if I wasn’t sick.” 

“Kiss me anyway.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Do I have to beg?”

“No, that won’t work on me today.” 

You both broke into giggles as you made your way back to the table. Both your characters took the food off the table, and sat across from each other. You both ate the food, as you would in real life. 

You were ready to leave your Switch, but then Seonghwa got up from the chair and walked over to yours. You suddenly remembered the surprise he had for you, and jumped out of your chair to pick the item he dropped in front of the table. 

“Aww, Hwa,” you whined as you read the item name in your inventory: A chocolate heart. “You can only get this during Valentine’s-” 

“Yep.” He smiled and put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close as he could get you. “I held onto it for a moment like this.” 

You put your Switch to the side and cuddled back up to him, giving him a cheek kiss before laying your head on his shoulder. He kissed your head and he squeezed you gently. 

“Saranghae, jagiya,” Seonghwa whispered, his body melting into yours as he held you close. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back. 

You both eventually adjusted to laying back down on the bed, leaving the game on as you two began to drift off to sleep. Like before, the soft sounds of Animal Crossing worked like a lullaby to relax you both, and send you off to a sweet slumber. 

Seonghwa watched his and your character idle together as he played with your hair. He smiled as he looked at the beautiful garden you’d made once more before his eyes fell shut, and he let himself fall into dreams of you.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.