#Seriously I could go on and on about the amazing writing of this series and actually put my english degree to use
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Throwing this in, though I know you have a post saying you're taking a break: I quite like Tetro. The story is exciting, and incredible. You've done an amazing job piecing everything together, and it has lead to me pretty seriously looking into following the footsteps of this project with a story also told in this audio format, since you demonstrated so clearly not only how this was possible, but how this could be done so well for a Killing Game specifically. The latest events, the latest death, as made me incredibly sad, and I feel a lot of emotional turmoil over losing both victims. But despite that, I have enjoyed the loving, losing, and worrying for the future. That's amazing. All of it is amazing. I have my theories and conclusions about who may be guilty and who isn't, but based on the posts I read, I mainly wanted to express an amount of thankfulness that the series exists at all. It's even lead to me writing fanpieces for some character interactions, and I imagine I have a few more in me from all that's gone on. Not only that, but the hard topics of this series have meant a lot to me. Yanagi and Tsuno have especially felt really close to home. The stories they talk about and the things they deal with matter in my own life. And the series as a whole has made me cry over stuff that mattered to me much more than any other media has done in the last year or so, maybe longer, in even broader strokes. All the characters don't just feel like people one could meet, but people I have met. People I have known. And some of those conversations feel just like ones I've had in my own life. You've done something incredible, and the writing has connected to me deeply. And though I can only speak for me, I doubt I'm alone in this. Thank you for this project, and thank you for sharing it so broadly, freely, and completely. Thanks for writing it, and writing daringly, maturely, and earnestly. At least, such are the ways I would describe it.
I hope I can cross paths with you sometime in the future over a creative endeavor. But in the meanwhile, I'll be tuned in to whatever you do for this, and for whatever comes next. As these things are called asks, if you do decide to respond: Who on Tetro is your favorite? Is it the same from when you were initially writing it? And what lead you to choose an audio drama as the medium in question? Thanks, and see ya at the trial.
thank you very very much, im extremely glad that youve been able to connect with my writing on that level and i hope that others have as well! i really enjoyed the writing process for tetro so its always really cool for me when others can enjoy my story as well
also, my favourite is hama! that changed a lot during production, but ive settled on hama as my goat forever i think. sorry to all the other favs i abandoned along the way
i chose the audio drama format because ive always really liked being able to picture things. when i was a kid, i used to fall asleep to audio books every night, and i really liked being able to picture the characters and stories as they were happening. i would always be so disappointed when id go to watch a movie adaptation of a book i liked only to see that everything looked different from in my head lmao.
i also think audio is a really fun format for this type of story! it was a fun challenge to get my points across without having visuals to back my writing. i didnt have very much faith in my ability to do this at first. tetro was originally planned to have a narrator because i didnt think id be able to tell a story without one. when i realized my writing could stand on its own, i took out the narrator and just let myself carry it as best i could. i think it made for some really fun opportunities where the impact of a scene just wouldnt have been nearly as strong if there had been visuals or narration.
i think [Ice Fairy] is a highlight of tetro in terms of audio storytelling - same with [Good Child]. having only audio forces you as the viewer to take a moment to figure out what's happening, which in turn gives you an "oh shit" realization moment that really helps the impact of a scene like [Ice Fairy] or [Good Child]. there are still some more really cool examples of tetro utilizing its format left to come - i hope you enjoy them when they do!
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Alright go home Warner Bros, we already have the Minecraft Isekal movie and sequels.
youtube
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In all the Minecraft movie talk, how could we forget about the Alan Becker team and THIS! THIS ABSOLUTE COLLECTION OF CINEMA!
#Taking a break from the Mianite nostalgia to put in my two cents about this.#They turned Pigstep into a boss fight soundtrack#Seriously I could go on and on about the amazing writing of this series and actually put my english degree to use#alan becker#animation vs minecraft#animator vs animation#color gang#the minecraft movie#minecraft movie#minecraft movie trailer#minecraft#ld speaks#Youtube
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Best Friend's Mom Part Two
MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Word count: 5.6k
CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, consumption of alcohol, mentions of food, mentions of absent parent, hints of angst, light smut in the middle, full smut at the end
Summary: You and Wanda had just slept together. You had just slept with your best friends' mom. But what happens after? Will the best night of your life be a one-time thing?
A/n: GUYS. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love on part 1. I was so anxious to post it because I had never written for Wanda before, and I thought it was lowkey crap. But you guys have been so kind, and loving, and supportive, and it made my week. I was feeling a little bit of pressure to write this next part because part one did so well, but I'm happy with the finished product. I've also decided to have a part 3 and 4 to finish up this story because I want it to span the whole week of reader's spring break. I hope that you all enjoy it and if you want to be added to the tag list for this series just lmk.
Seriously all my love, MK <3
There is something hot blowing on your neck when you first wake up, and your sleepy brain is a little more than confused. Through your bleary eyes you look for the source, and that’s when everything from the night before comes rushing back.
Wanda.
You and Wanda.
Sleeping together.
Not only are you currently sharing a bed with your two best friends’ mom, you slept with her.
What makes it worse? It was fucking amazing. And you want do it again.
You know you’re going to hell. You’d just crossed so many boundaries, and you aren’t sure Billy and Tommy will ever forgive you if they find out.
When they find out.
“Detka,”
Your racing thoughts, and also heart, comes to a halt at the soft whisper of Wanda’s own personal nickname for you- one that sounded so different less than 12 hours ago as you made her hoarse with pleasure.
Cautiously, you roll on your side to meet Wanda face-to-face. Even in the morning she looks so incredibly beautiful, with her red waves sprawled out on her pillow, her green eyes soft and warm, and her pink lips just a little swollen from the night before.
“What’s that pretty little mind of yours thinking about so early,” she asks quietly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
You lean into her touch and close your eyes, “You. Us. Last night.”
Her hand pulls away and you open your eyes, “Do you regret it, Detka?”
“No Wanda, of course not. I don’t. It’s just, this-“
“Makes things complicated?”
You sigh and nod. You chew on your lip anxiously as all the racing thoughts come back.
“Honey, stop,” Wanda says, placing her thumb on your bottom lip, “you’ll hurt yourself.”
She pulls you into her arms and places the softest, sweetest kiss against your lips. You melt into her embrace and decide to ignore all your problems for just a little longer. Anyways, how could anything really be wrong when Wanda holds you as if nothing could hurt you?
“We’ll figure it all out in time, baby. But for now, just lay with me for a while, yeah?”
You press a gentle kiss to her neck, an action that speaks far louder than any words, and snuggle closer into her. With her fingers running gently through your hair, and the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat against your ear, you are lulled back into a dreamless sleep.
When you wake up a little while later, the spot next to you is cold, and you know that at some point Wanda slipped out while you were sleeping to avoid suspicion. You know she did the right thing, and that it’s for the best, but the secrecy of it all is just a little painful.
You shrug it off, however, and crawl out of bed. Until you can assess the state of your skin- Wanda’s mouth had been all over- you throw on sweats and a hoodie. As you traipse down the hall you’re met with the smell of pancakes and quiet chatter. Before you step into the kitchen, you admire the pretty picture before you- Wanda sat between her two boys at the table as they all eat pancakes and reminisce about the past. You almost feel bad ruining it.
Almost.
But your hunger wins out.
“She finally decides to join us,” Tommy teases as you step into the kitchen.
You stick your tongue out at him as you sit down to his right and begin to pile pancakes onto your plate.
“I was starting to worry that you were dead,” Billy adds, and you roll your eyes.
“I must’ve just been worn out,” you reply, briefly glancing at Wanda before looking down and shoveling food into your mouth.
“Did you not sleep okay, honey?”
You look up at Wanda again and notice a glint of mischief in her green eyes, “Just always a little restless sleeping in a new bed, but I fell asleep eventually.”
“You just let me know if I can do anything to help,” she says sweetly. And then, she winks.
You choke on your pancake a little and Tommy starts patting your back. When you finally get a little air back in your lungs you cough out, “okay, thanks, Wanda.”
She’s gonna be the death of you.
*****
The boys decide that the four of you will head into the beach town today to look around the shops and restaurants. You’re more than grateful for this, especially with the alternative being that you’d have to see Wanda in a bikini yet again.
You’re dressed simple in cutoff blue jeans and a plain white tank top, and you’ve tucked your hair under a white baseball cap. Wanda, it seems, is still trying to tease you, wearing the cutest flowy, white skirt with a maroon tank top. It’s maddening and you almost scoff at her audacity. If her boys weren’t with you, you’d probably drag her off to a bathroom right now and take her right then and there. Alas, they are, and so you have to practice self-control. It’s still easier than maintaining self-control around her in a swimsuit, so you feel grateful to walk around with your friends and fawn over little trinkets you absolutely do not need. You plan to do your very best to forget that Wanda’s even there, but she has other plans.
Wanda’s hands are all. over. you. all. day.
Mind you, all of her touches are subtle enough that Billy and Tommy would never suspect a thing. But they’re not subtle to you. You feel every touch tenfold, and it leaves you a little dazed after each interaction.
When you get to the first shop, a mini boutique, Billy, ever the gentleman, holds the door open for you and Wanda. The redhead doesn’t just motion for you to go inside first. No. Instead, she places her hand on the small of your back and guides you into the store, letting her hand linger a little near your ass until Billy and Tommy step inside.
At the book store, you find a copy of the romance novel you’ve been dying to read but couldn’t find anywhere. Unfortunately, it’s up on a high shelf that you can’t quite reach. Just as you turn to look for one of the twins, Wanda saddles up behind you touching your shoulder, “I got it, honey.”
She uses you as a balance as she stands on her tip toes and grabs you the book. It’s in your trembling hands the next moment and then she’s disappeared to another aisle.
The local thrift store in town is packed full of clutter. Realistically, only one person can walk down a row at a time because of how narrow they are. Wanda, of course, ignores this unsaid rule entirely, at least when it comes to you. As you sift through the racks upon racks of clothes, Wanda wonders over and begins to make small talk about your thrift finds. Then, without warning she says, “excuse me, honey,” and grabs your waist, shifting you so that she can pass by. Her tits rub up against your back when she does it, and you shiver.
The four of you have lunch at a cute cafe, and sit at a circle table on the outdoor patio. Unsurprisingly, you end up sitting next to Wanda, and her hand magically finds its way to your thigh. You desperately try to keep your cool throughout lunch and hope that your face isn’t too flushed. Near the end of the meal, her hand begins moving up and down your thigh, creeping a little closer to where you want her. You cough and stand abruptly, getting startled looks from your friends.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”
You rush inside and splash water on your face.
Throughout the day, even when Wanda isn’t touching you, she somehow always manages to drive you crazy. At the tourist shop, Wanda decides to try on a sweatshirt. When she’s taking it off, her shirt rides up a little and you see a little patch of her soft, beautiful skin. When you grab a treat from the ice cream shop, you nearly lose your mind as she licks whipped cream off her fingertip to “sample it.”
Wanda’s teasing is nonstop and relentless all afternoon. By the time you get back for dinner you’re a complete and utter mess. But you’re not guaranteed any relief because Billy and Tommy drag you away to swim. Even though you shoot Wanda a desperate glance, she only winks and gets back to cooking.
*****
The evening had been spent by the pool, getting out occasionally to eat a little, and then jumping back in. You competed in races with Tommy, dove for pool sticks, and convinced Wanda to join you three for Marco Polo. As night settles in, the air cools down and the pool becomes much too chilly to bear. Not wanting to go inside just yet, you move to the hot tub. As you sink into the bubbling, hot water you sigh loudly. Your tense muscles ease and you begin to regain some feeling in your chilled fingers and toes.
You rest your head against the edge of the tub as you call out goodnight to Billy and Tommy. Wanda goes in with them, taking the dishes to the kitchen, and you have to admit that you’re a little disappointed she doesn’t stay outside.
The door shuts with a resounding thud, and you are left alone with your thoughts. It’s quiet, and the only thing you can hear are the crickets chirping and the bubbling water in which you sit. You’re blanketed in darkness, even the moon asleep for the night, save for the stars that sprinkle the navy sky.
The peaceful evening soothes you, and you close your eyes. You hear the wooden door open and close again, and soft, padded footsteps across the deck. You’re too scared to open your eyes and see who it is- for fear of disappointment. This time, you’re not disappointed.
Eyes still closed, you feel soft lips capture yours and you gasp softly. When Wanda pulls away your eyes flutter open and you find hers staring back at you fondly. She hasn’t yet joined you in the hot tub, but is rather standing at its edge, leaning over to kiss you from upside down.
You smile softly at her, “Hey, Wanda.”
“Hi Detka. I missed you,” she whispers against your lips.
“You were with me all day.”
“Not in the way that I wanted to be.”
“Well you sure got your fair share of teasing in,” you fake scold, “did that satisfy you enough?”
She slowly shakes her and rasps, “no.”
“We’ll have to fix that then.”
Wanda walks around the hot tub to the stairs and wades into the water. She slowly, tantalizingly, makes her way towards you. You sigh out her name impatiently and then finally, finally, your lips connect. You grab her waist gently and pull her closer to you.
Wanda’s hands find a home in your hair as she tugs on it a little and you moan.
“God, I’ve been dying to touch you all day,” she murmurs.
“I could tell,” you pant, “such a fucking tease, grabbing my hips, touching my shoulders, rubbing my thigh. It’s too bad Billy and Tommy were there, or I would’ve had my way with you.”
“Not very nice to say about your best friends.”
“Hard to care about them when you’re in front of me,” you admit, “all beautiful, and interesting, and alluring.”
You press a final kiss to her lips and then pull away, kissing her cheek, then her jaw, then behind her ear, her neck, her collarbone, and then right between her tits.
You keep your mouth there, hoping to leave a mark behind that will be just out of sight when she wears a tank top or a revealing dress. She grabs your head and pushes it forward, burying it deeper in her chest. Her soft moans and sighs make you grip her waist harder, and you pull her onto your lap where you’re sitting in the hot tub. When you nip slightly at her skin she whimpers and you moan against her.
“You sound so pretty Wanda,” you tell her, voice muffled.
You place kisses back up her chest as your hands move downwards to squeeze her ass. She squeals a little and you press another kiss to her lips to silence her.
“Wanna see you, baby,” Wanda tells you.
Her hands creep around your back and slowly untie your swimsuit. Your top falls away revealing your tits to her. It’s too dark for her to see much, but she still whispers, “so beautiful, Detka.”
She leans forward and presses a kiss to each before reaching out and groping them. You throw your head back and sigh. It’s a relief, finally having her hands on you again after all the teasing. She slowly massages each of your tits and you pant, gripping her waist so tightly you’re surprised she hasn’t yelped in pain. When her thumb runs over your sensitive nipples, your hips buck up into hers.
“Wanda, I-“
“I know, baby.”
Just as she is leaning down to take you into her mouth the door to the house squeals open. You jump apart, a string of curses leaving your mouth as you cover yourself and sink lower into the water.
Tommy peaks his head out, “Guys, come watch a movie with us. We’ve got it queued up.”
You quietly groan.
Thankfully, Wanda responds for you both.
“Okay, moya lubov. We’ll dry off and be in.”
Tommy closes the door, and you groan much louder now, letting your head fall back against the hot tub in defeat.
Wanda chuckles lowly, “we’ll finish this another time, baby. Promise.”
You sigh and nod.
“Here, let me help you put this back on,” Wanda says kindly, picking up your discarded top.
You turn away from Wanda, and she wraps it back around you. She breathes on your neck as she ties it back in place, and her fingers just ghost over your back. You hold your breath, savoring every moment.
When she’s done, she places a kiss to your neck and pats your ass, “there, all done. Now let’s go watch this movie.”
*******
The rest of your evening had been 2 hours and 12 minutes of torture, and then bedtime. You’d sat in an armchair cuddled up to Tommy while Billy and Wanda had laid on the couch together. You don’t recall a single second of the movie because you had been too busy watching Wanda the whole time.
You adored the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, how her frown during sad scenes was a little crooked, and the way her brows furrowed together when a character was being particularly ridiculous. No matter what face she was making, she was beautiful. And you couldn’t understand how anyone could have been interested in watching a movie when the picture of grace herself had sat before you.
It was mind-numbing, the way Wanda seemed to consume every waking and sleeping second of your mind. There was nothing you could do to ease her from your thoughts, and she was so clearly not keen on helping you out either. You desperately wondered if you’d ever get another moment alone before you headed back to college in four days. If you didn’t, you weren’t sure what you’d do.
Was death by longing even a thing?
Your bed had been cold that night, and you weren’t sure how you’d ever slept without Wanda by your side. Her warmth eased your tense body, her arms kept you safe, her tender kisses reminded you you were alive, and her sweet words whispered into your ears filled your heart to the brim. You knew you were totally fucked, but in a state of denial, you hoped that just one more good fuck would get it out of your system.
The next morning is calm and peaceful, the late night before having kept everyone confined to their beds until a much later hour. You opt out of breakfast and instead lay sprawl out on your bed, fan blowing cool air on you and the windows cracked to hear the waves. You decide to finally start the new book you got in town, and you cozy up in your comforter excitedly.
You open the paperback and crack the spine a little with a resounding pop. This and the smell of fresh pages sends a shiver up your spine and you kick your feet happily. Your eyes eagerly scan the first few pages as you take in the plot, setting and characters. You can feel yourself slowly sinking into the magical fictional world before you and you feel triumphant. Finally, finally, you’ve found something that distracts you from Wanda.
And it does. For a little while. But about twenty pages in a flash of red hair crosses your mind. You shake it off and read another page. Green eyes pierce your vision. You blink it away rapidly. Her perfume seems to waft into your nose, and you stuff your face into your shirt. You try to persevere, but when you realize that you’ve read the same line about ten times now and have yet to process it, you know it’s hopeless. You’re never one to treat a book unkindly, but you’re so frustrated that you toss it across the room and bury yourself under your covers.
Since your brain seems so keen on it, you let yourself indulge in a fictional scene of your own- one of domestic bliss between you and Wanda.
It’d be a hot summer day, just like this one, and you and Wanda would be at your shared cottage home in the countryside. The fan would be humming softly above you while birds and bugs chirped and buzzed through the screened back door. You and Wanda would be on your long, white couch with colorful throws, bare legs tangled. It’d be too hot be fully dressed, so you’d each just be in a pair of underwear and the other’s shirt. Maybe Wanda had made you two some ice-cold lemonade that you sipped on slowly as you casually drew patterns on her leg. Wanda, on the other end, would have a book propped open. She’d be reading it to you, in that soft, sweet voice that makes you melt. When you’d get lost in her eyes instead of listening to her read, she’d playfully scold you.
You could almost hear her now saying, “Detka, Detka. Are you paying attention?”
It’s when an arm touches your shoulder that you realize the real Wanda is actually before you, talking to you.
You jolt and inhale quickly, “huh? What? Sorry I was daydreaming.”
She chuckles and you notice that she’s sitting on the edge of your bed as she smoothes out the wrinkled corners, “I just came to tell you that we’re going out for a nice dinner tonight and that our reservation is at 6:00. Do you have something to wear?”
You do, luckily, and you thank past you for thinking ahead, “yes, I have a few options to choose from. What time should I be ready by?”
Wanda thinks for a moment, “5:00 probably. I want to get some pictures of everyone dressed up too before we head out. And you know how my boys are about photos, always so particular.”
You snort out an understanding giggle, recalling the many times you've taken ‘unsatisfactory’ photos for your friends, and then having to redo them all.
Wanda stands then and smiles sweetly at you, “well, that’s all I had to say, but I’ll leave you to your daydreaming now.”
And when she’s sure no one is coming down the hall, she presses a few hurried kisses to your lips and then leaves the room and you, yearning for more.
*****
You decide to doll yourself up extra nice for the occasion and try to convince yourself it’s all for you and not… others.
You’re wearing flowy blue pants made of a silky material and a white tank top with a scoop neck and wide straps. A dainty gold necklace sits prettily against your collarbone and one or two gold bands rest on your fingers. Strappy white sandals are your shoe of choice, and you make sure to paint your toes a blue color similar to your pants. You keep your makeup simple, only a few swipes of mascara and a quick brush of your brows.
You head out into the living room and whistle lowly, “what a group we are.”
Tommy and Billy have dressed up rather nicely. The former is wearing a nice, short sleeve white shirt and khaki pants. Billy has on a nice red polo and black slacks.
Instead of rustling the boys’ hair like you usually would, you pat their cheeks like a fond grandmother, “look at you two, my boys. All handsome and grown up.”
You wipe away a fake tear and they roll their eyes at you, exasperated.
“I’m just glad you were able to dress up nice,” Tommy retorts, “instead of your usual sewer rat look.”
You scoff, more than offended, and this time do go to ruffle his hair, “did your mother never teach you manners?”
“She taught us to respect those who earned it. You haven’t yet,” Billy deadpans.
You smack his arm rather hard, and you don’t miss the way he winces and rubs the sore spot a little.
“Would it really kill you to tell me I look nice?” you ask, hands on your hips.
Billy dramatically groans, “fine, fine. You look… nice.”
You look at Tommy with a raised eyebrow.
“You know you look beautiful,” he replies, “do I need to say it?”
You sit on the arm of the couch next to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “just feels nice to be appreciated sometimes.”
Tommy scoffs playfully, “as if we don’t spoil you rotten with attention.”
You wave him off dismissively and reach out to grab Billy’s hand, giving him a kind squeeze.
It’s in this warm embrace that Wanda finds you all when she emerges from her room. She looks absolutely breathtaking. Of course, she always does, but this. Wow.
Wanda has pulled her hair back into a slick bun and is wearing a slim-fitting, long green dress. It’s an emerald green that looks so nice against her pale skin, and the red lipstick on her lips makes them look even more kissable than usual. She has dangly silver earrings in, a chunky silver necklace, and a small chain bracelet for jewelry. You’re literally speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Well, how do I look?” She asks with a little spin.
Tommy stands and gives her a side hug, “beautiful as always, Mama.”
“The prettiest lady ever,” Billy agrees, joining his family on his mom’s other side. She presses tender kisses to the sides of each of their heads, a big beaming smile on her face.
“Honey, could you get a picture of us?” She asks you sweetly.
You simply nod, too dumb to talk, and take Tommy’s phone. They stand together, arms around each other, and they look like a perfect little family. Wanda is clearly so proud of her sons, and them so devoted and loving to their mother. It makes your heart ache, not only because of fondness but also regret.
Billy and Tommy have opened up to you about how hard it was for Wanda to put their lives and family back together after their dad left. And now, seeing them together, so happy and complete, you feel like an intruder. Out of place. And when you think about Wanda, you want her so badly. But you wonder if you want her enough to risk tearing down everything she’s worked so hard to build.
“There, that should be good,” you say quietly.
Wanda steps forward, “here let me get some pictures of you three.”
When she takes the phone from you, your fingers brush, and you jolt away a little. You try to play it off coolly and go stand in Wanda’s place between the two boys. You smile widely, your arms wrapped around each brother, but the ache is still a little present in your throat.
“Okay, I’ve got some,” the redhead tells you, “but I want a few with you too, honey,” she says, looking at you.
“But why, mom?” Billy asks.
“Well I have to document the best Chicken duo this world has ever seen,” she says with a teasing voice.
The boys groan simultaneously and roll their eyes.
“No need to rub it in, mom.”
She smirks a little as she goes to stand next to you.
“They’re just jealous,” she says, with a stage whisper.
And then, when they’re not paying attention, she actually whispers, “and stop worrying, Detka. Everything is going to be okay.”
“How did you-?”
She briefly glances at your lips and you realize that you’re chewing on them yet again. You stop immediately and she squeezes your side reassuringly. You face the camera and wrap your arm loosely around Wanda’s shoulders. This time, your smile is much more genuine.
*****
Dinner had been amazing. Red sauce pasta with a delightful layer of cheese, and rolls that seemed to be coming out as soon as a basket was emptied. You all had indulged in a little red wine too, and you felt perfectly relaxed and full. The night had been near perfect. But something was missing. Dessert.
You don’t have to go looking far, because it presents itself in the form of Wanda Maximoff, sitting there at dinner looking so delectable in her emerald green dress, teasing you with her sneaky looks and seductive red lips. It feels like ages since you’d last really touched Wanda, and you don’t think you can hold off much longer. You hope your eyes tell her so as the four of you sit around the living room coffee table playing various card games. Eventually, you feign a yawn, and proclaim that you are calling it a night- wine always making you a little sleepy.
But that couldn’t be further from the truth. You are wide awake and alert. You waltz off down the hall, but you don’t go into your room. Instead, you take a turn into Wanda’s and quickly shut the door behind you. You wait for her on the soft, bouncy mattress.
It seems as if you’re waiting for Wanda for ages. But you suppose impatience on your end and her need to prevent suspicion only makes it seem so. Finally, you hear the faint creak of the floorboards coming closer and closer to the door. It cracks open and there she is in all her glory. She shuts it softly behind her and you both share a giddy smile like scheming little kids. She uses the door handle as a balance as she slips her heels off and tosses them to the side. Then, she reaches to her hair and pulls out all the clips and hair ties holding the bun together, and her long red waves cascade down her shoulders mesmerizingly. She slowly slinks towards you, drawing you in with her seductress powers. She slots herself between your legs at the edge of the bed and bends down to kiss you deeply.
You inhale sharply against her lips and hold her jaw with your hand. After a few deep kisses she breaks away and whispers, “take that shirt off for me pretty girl. I want to see you.”
To her surprise, and maybe even a little to yours, you say, “no.”
She raises her eyebrows in shock and then they furrow into worry, “do you not want this? I’m sorry if I misread the room I-“
You place a finger to her lips gently, “No, Wanda. You didn’t read anything wrong. I do want this. I want you. But I don’t want you to do anything. I just wanna take care of you. Is that okay? A woman like you should be worshiped.”
Her features soften into what you’d almost coin adoration, but you don’t get your hopes up.
She moves around the side of the bed and lays down up against her pillows, “okay baby, you take charge. Do whatever you want.”
You groan at how soft, and vulnerable, and open she is to you.
God, there are so many things you want to do to Wanda right about now. But what you need most is to taste her. You crawl up to Wanda and place yourself between her legs. You place your hands gently on the back of her neck and lean in for a tender kiss. It’s slow and deep and Wanda just sighs softly. Her hands find a home on your back as you continue to kiss her, slowly adding in tongue. As your hands begin to travel from her neck and down to her sides, just barely grazing her breasts, the kisses get a little more passionate and your breathing heavier. Like last night, you begin to trail kisses down her body. But this time, you don’t stop at her chest. You keep going, pressing kisses to her clothed stomach. When you get to her legs, you teasingly slide your hands up under her dress, fingers dancing around her ankles.
“I need you higher,” she rasps, and you smirk smugly just a little.
“Anything for you, gorgeous.”
You slowly push the hem of her soft, green dress upwards, revealing more and more skin as you go. You push it all the way up, letting the dress pool around her waist. You start at her ankles again, this time pressing soft kisses up her legs until your hot breath is on her thighs. She nearly whines at you being so close to touching her, and you giggle, “be patient, sweetheart. I’m almost there.”
And then with one or two more gentle kisses to her inner thighs, you place the softest, teasing kiss on her clothed center. That alone causes Wanda to moan, her hips bucking up into your face a little.
“Detka, please,” she sighs.
You grab the top of her underwear and pull it down her legs, tossing it across the room somewhere.
“Such a beautiful pussy, Wanda,” you sigh.
You lean forward and press another kiss to her, this time, bare cunt. You know she likes it because her legs squeeze your head encouragingly. You lick one strip up the middle and she moans so prettily you squeeze your own legs together. After you’ve gotten one taste, you’re ravenous. You immediately dive in headfirst, licking and sucking at her soft, pink pussy.
She continuously lets out sighs and moans of your name, honey, or Detka. You hold onto her thighs as you continue to eat her out and squeeze them gently, letting her know how good she’s doing. You can tell when Wanda starts to get close because she only gets wetter and wetter. She reaches down and grabs your hair roughly, shoving your face further into her pussy. She lets out a whine and her back arches, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“F-feels so g-good,” she stutters out.
You hum against her and you know it feels good because she lets out yet another moan. To get Wanda to her orgasm, you decide to double the stimulation. Your face moves downwards, sending your tongue in and out of her wet hole. Then, you add a finger to the mix, rubbing small tight circles on her clit quickly. Her back arches again at the newfound pleasure, and the grip she has on your hair is almost painful. But you don’t stop. You continue to thrust in and out while pinching and rubbing her clit. Her moans are so consistent and fairly loud that you’re a little worried her boys will hear. But you’re so lost in her pussy, and she in her pleasure, that you don’t care. With one final hard thrust of your tongue, Wanda plummets over the edge. Her thighs squeeze tightly around your head and your hair is wrapped around her fingers in a coil. Her back arches off the bed significantly and her body shakes in waves of pleasure. The pretty little whines and moans she lets out as she comes makes you want to instantly go for round two. But you don’t, letting her come back down from her high. When she does, she looks a little dazed.
“Well?” You ask slyly.
“Detka,” she sighs, and then she pulls you upward by the shirt and passionately kisses you. When she tastes herself on your lips, she moans again.
You and Wanda are all over each other for quite awhile, and you’re both left feeling pretty fucked out and spacey. Everything with her felt and feels so good. And you know you’re ruined for anyone else. You lay on her bare chest, legs intertwined, and she strokes your back softly. Your eyes flutter shut at her featherlight touches and you’re sure you could fall asleep right then and there. Paired with her slow, quiet breathing, you are in bliss.
“You’re so perfect and beautiful, Detka,” she whispers into your ear.
It tickles and you shiver a little. You place an affirming kiss on her bare chest and snuggle in closer to her side. And as she holds you, as you begin to fall asleep in her arms yet again, you know for sure now that you are fucked. You know then that you are not just attracted to Wanda. You have feelings for her. And the once pleasurable, fluttering butterflies in your stomach are replaced by a big, solid rock.
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tag list: @xenaizogie @alexawynters @eclipse727 @idkwhatever580 @opp-jumpscare @starynn @alessiaswifey @noturlondonboy
#the avengers#marvel fanfiction#marvel#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda mcu#milf!wanda maximoff#fluff#semi smut#smut#hinted angst#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff smut#mcu wanda maximoff#mcu fandom#mcu fanfiction#wanda maximoff fic
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Friendsgiving
College!Quarterback!Bucky Barnes + Curvy!College!Reader
Summery- You and Bucky explore your new relationship while you and the gang celebrate Thanksgiving.
W.C.- 4221
Warnings- Smut, oral (fem), fingering, unprotected sex
A/N- I am so so sorry this is late. I’ve been stressed and I didn’t know how I wanted to do this. But I keep it sweet with no drama, for now anyway, the next one will have lots of drama lol. I do hope you enjoy this. Home For Christmas will be long since it’s going to have a lot in it. But that one and the one for new years might be late and I apologize in advance for that. Anyway enjoy and see you next time my loves! (The picture of the kitchen is mine) (not proofread)
Taglist- @calwitch @winterslove1917 @hi172826
Masterlist Series Masterlist
“He’s doing it again,” Sam snickers.
“Doing what?” Steve hums.
“Looking at her with those love sick puppy eyes.”
Steve looks up from where he was fiddling with the lights for the back patio to see you and Bucky cuddled on the couch. Bucky had a small smile on his face as he watched you ramble on about this new book you were reading.
“Give him a break, he’s happy.” Steve set the lights back in the box. Since you and Bucky had started dating the guys had been coming over more often, spending the nights too. You didn’t mind though; you had the room and if anything, it felt nice to have a full house. It made it feel more like home in a way.
Sam looks back over to you and Bucky. He smirks, knowing damn good and well Bucky has no idea what you’re saying. He's too captivated by the way you look and the joy on your face to pay attention to the plot of your book.
You and Bucky had been together almost two weeks now, when you had told the others they seemed happy and relieved. No more tip toeing around and no more arguing.
You had laughed as a grumpy Steve handed $20 to a very happy Sam. Bucky grumbled and smacked Sam’s arm. Steve had bet Bucky would be the one to confess while Sam bet you would be the one to break first.
Now even though you haven’t been together long, you were enjoying seeing this new side of Bucky. You were learning new things about him and seeing the side of him he didn’t even show Steve.
You found out his favorite books were The Hobbit and Lord of The Rings. He loved to watch older movies; he was a big nerd when it came to anything space or scientific related. And what surprised you the most was he knew the answer to just about every history question you could think of.
Bucky was also learning new things about you. How you procrastinated until the last second and somehow whatever you were working on always came out amazing. How good you were at drawing; how creative your mind was when it came to writing stories. He just about fell out of his chair when you told him you knew how to change the oil and tires on a car.
You both were taking it one step at a time, exploring the unfamiliar grounds of this new relationship.
Steve and Sam walk over and join you on the couch. Steve sits next to you while Sam sits next to him.
“You know he has absolutely no idea what you’re saying, right?” Sam chuckles. Steve elbows him.
“Yes, he does, right Bucky? Bucky?” You wave a hand in front of his face. “James,” you sigh.
Bucky blinks his eyes, refocusing them. “Hmm?”
“Seriously Bucky?” You scoff a laugh.
“I’m sorry, princess. You're just so cute when you’re excited,” he smiles.
You blush and hide your face while Steve and Nat coo. Sam and Yelena make gagging faces, those two like two peas in a pod.
“Since Thanksgiving is in a couple of days shouldn’t we go food shopping tomorrow?” Steve asks.
“Me and you can go after we get back from the fall festival tomorrow,” you answer.
“Fall festival?” Sam asks, disinterest clear in his voice.
“Yeah,” Natasha nods. “We’re going to the Barton farm; they’re having a fall festival.”
“I thought we already went to a festival there?” Sam groans.
“We did, but that was for Halloween. They have three festivals every year, one for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.”
“Well, have fun, cause I’m sitting this out.”
“You’re going,” Yelena says sternly.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Please?” Yelena sticks her bottom lip out in a pout and gives him her puppy eyes.
“Fine,” Sam grumbles. He rolls his eyes when everyone laughs. It had been Yelena’s idea to go, there was a certain someone she wanted to see.
A little while later you and Bucky lay in your bed rewatching a show you’ve seen a thousand times on your computer. You were just starting to doze off when he speaks up.
“You didn’t go to the Halloween festival,” he says softly. His bushy eyebrows set in a frown.
“What?” You yawn, blinking your eyes repeatedly and doing your best to keep them open.
“The Halloween festival, you didn’t go.” Bucky closes the laptop and sets it on the nightstand.
“No, I didn’t,” you sigh and snuggle into Bucky’s side. That same stuffed dog squished between you both.
“Why? Was it because of me?” He whispers.
You let out a small laugh. “No, I didn’t feel good that night, nor did I want to get dragged to the haunted house. I hate scary things.”
“Oh, okay.” Bucky pulls you impossibly closer. “Goodnight princess,” he kisses your forehead.
“Goodnight Bucky.”
The next morning the six of you get ready for the festival. You and Bucky are the last ones to be ready, Bucky having gotten a little handsy while you were in the shower together.
You wore snug blue jeans that hugged your thighs and ass. A silk tank top-one that accented your curves and made Bucky’s mouth water-under a long-sleeved shirt. You then stole one of Bucky’s jackets to wear, claiming it would keep you warmer, it went down to about mid-thigh on you. Bucky helped you put your boots on and laced them. You slid on some gloves while Bucky wrapped a scarf around your neck and slid beanie on your head.
Though you were covered up, Bucky’s mouth still watered at the sight of you. He didn’t understand how someone could look so adorable yet sexy at the same time.
Bucky, Steve, and Sam all wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and jackets. You practically had to force Bucky to wear gloves and a hat. And while he looked like a three-course meal you’d never understand how he could wear so little layers in this freezing weather. Some people just don’t get cold.
Steve, Natasha, and Yelena took Steve’s car while you, Bucky, and Sam took Bucky’s car. Once you got there you pulled Natasha aside.
“You know you’re gonna have to help her, right?” You say quietly, watching Yelena fix her outfit.
“Don’t worry, babes. I’ve already got a plan,” Natasha smirks. You can see the sparkle of mischief in her eyes.
You arch a brow. “And what kind of plan would that be?”
“All you need to know is by the end of the day, Kate and Lena will be a couple.” You laugh and shake your head.
Natasha links her arm with Yelena’s and drags her off in the direction of the face painting station, the one Kate Bishop was currently working. Sam tags along, eager to see what mischief plan Nat has.
You and Bucky walk hand in hand through the festival, Steve on the other side of you. The three of you making your way to where they keep their homemade goodies.
“If Nat’s plan goes well, Sam will be the only single person left in the group,” You wonder aloud.
“Hmph,” Bucky hums. He couldn’t care less.
“We should set him up,” You suggest.
“You know, Sam has had his eye on someone for a while now,” Steve speaks up.
“Who?” You ask a little to excitingly.
Steve chuckles. “Lila Taylor? Lina Taylor, something like that.”
“Leila Taylor?”
“Yeah that.”
“Wait, isn’t she on the college’s reporter team?”
Steve nods. “Yeah, she also supports a lot of activist movements and stuff.”
“Oh cool,” You smile. “I’ll circle back with the girls to come up with a plan and then coordinate with you.”
“Hold up,” Bucky interjects. “You really think it’s a good idea to go snooping around in Sam’s love life?”
“Hey! It’s not snooping,” You argue. “It’s more like giving him a little nudge in the right direction.”
“Well, whatever it is, I want nothing to do with it. Cause if this blows up, it won’t be pretty.” You just roll your eyes.
You and Steve pick out some jams and spices to use in Thanksgiving dinner before heading off to the face painting booth. There's not much of a line so you wait, looking for Nat, Yelena, Sam, and Kate. When it’s you guys’ turn, you walk up to see Cassie Lang running the station.
“Hey Cassie,” You smile. “Where’s Kate and Lena?”
She points behind her. “Back behind the station.”
“Good for them,” You laugh. You get a bunny painted on your face, Bucky gets a cat, and Steve gets a dog.
You thank Cassie and Steve heads off to find Nat and Sam, telling you to meet up at the hayride line. Bucky keeps his arm around your shoulders as you walk. You relax and lean into him, letting him guide you.
It almost doesn’t feel real, being here with him. It's almost like a dream come true; one you never knew you had. You cherish the feeling of being in his arms, the comfort and warmth it brings.
You, Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Nat meet up by the hayrides. Even Yelena and Kate tag along too. While you wait you make small talk and get to know Kate a bit. You learn that she’s mastered in archery and is taking an engineer course. You could see Yelena relax a little when she seen how well Kate got along with everyone.
During the hayride, Bucky’s gaze kept drifting back to you. His heart fluttered as he watched you, the way your eyes shine in the sunlight. How your nose scrunched just like his when you laugh and smile.
He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer. He buried his nose in your hair, closing his eyes as your peach scented shampoo filled his nose.
From the moment he met you, something told him you were different. That feeling was just pushed back and blinded by a false sense of hate. One thing he knew for sure, even if this was just the start of the relationship, was that something was different.
None of his previous relationships had ever felt this, what’s the word? Special. He just wishes you and him would have come to terms sooner. But later is better than never.
You guys spend most of the rest of the day doing various activities. Just laughing and having fun, spending time with one another. A lot of people argue over what family is, whether it’s being blood related. Or just knowing someone for a long time, always being there for them and having their back.
Whichever it may be, you knew this was the family that you would ever need. And while your heart does ache for the family you grew up with, you’d never felt more loved than you do with this family. Right here, right now.
Before it got too late you guys called it quits. You and Steve headed to the store while the others headed home. You giggled at the sad puppy eyes Yelena had when she had to say goodbye to Kate.
You and Steve browse the aisles, grabbing ingredients and checking them off the list. You're almost done when you pass the area they keep the turkeys, except, they’re out.
“Crap, Y/n,” Steve sighs. He looks at the empty display that was once filled with Turkeys of all sizes. “What are we going to do?”
You grin. “You know how they say women are smarter than men?” You snicker.
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with the fact we won’t have a turkey for thanksgiving?”
“Me and Nat picked one up last week, Steve,” you laugh.
“Oh”
“Oh!” You gasp. “So, I have a request to make,” you bite your lip.
“What’s that?”
“So, you’re cooking the turkey this year, right?” Steve nods and you continue. “Well, I was wondering if maybe we could smoke the turkey on the grill?”
Steve pauses, considering the idea. “That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” he hums.
“Right? I mean, any other dish we cook on the grill tastes amazing, so why not try it with the turkey?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “I think that’s a good idea. So that’s what we’ll do then.”
Once you have everything, you pay and pile everything in the trunk of the car and head home. Sam and Bucky help bring the groceries inside when you get home, you and Nat put them away.
Since everyone was tired from the fun filled day and no one wanting to cook and clean the already prepped kitchen. You guys just decided to order some pizza. The TV is playing some cooking show, one that was actually decent.
Sam and Yelena sat on the floor between the coffee table and couch, munching on the pizza. You and Bucky sat on one end of the couch, squeezed together under one blanket. Steve and Nat sat at the other end, hogging the bigger blanket.
“So, what all are we having tomorrow?” Sam asks around a mouth full of pizza. Natasha nudges Sam’s shoulder with her foot, playfully scolding him about not talking with a mouth full of food.
“Well, we’re gonna have turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, Nat will make her mac & cheese,” you list the dishes out. “Probably some corn too.”
“What about homemade bread?” Yelena asks.
“Absolutely,” you smile.
“You make homemade bread?” Bucky asks, surprised. You nod. “Since when?”
“Since I was like, 15 or 16?” You shrug. He hums and pulls you closer.
“Oh, by the way, I invited Kate to come over after. If that’s okay?” Yelena says.
You nod. “That’s fine, I invited Wanda.”
“I invited Clint, too,” Nat adds.
You, Bucky, Steve, and Nat head to bed early since you have to get an early start on cooking tomorrow.
The alarm on your phone goes off at five in the morning, jolting you awake. Bucky groans and shuts the alarm off, tightening his arms around your waist.
“I gotta get up, baby,” you whisper. You card your fingers through his hair.
He buries his face in your neck. “No,” he mumbles, voice muffled.
You smile softly. “Yes.” When he doesn’t let you go, you pinch his shoulder.
Bucky grumbles and let's go. “You’re mean,” he pouts.
You press a quick kiss to his lips. “Here,” you hand him your stuffed dog. “Fido will keep you company.” Bucky smacks the dog away, making you gasp.
“How dare you!” You pick him up and coddle him to your chest. “It’s okay, I got you.” You kiss its head.
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Are you really talking to a stuffed animal?” He asks in that deep, sexy morning voice of his.
You hug the dog closer to your chest. “Don’t listen to him, he’s a big meanie,” you mumble against its fur. Bucky raises a brow. “You up set him, now you have to give him a kiss.”
“I’m not kissing a stuffed animal, Y/n,” he huffs.
“What’s that? He has to give you cuddles?” Bucky shakes his head. “Now, James,” you say, trying and failing to sound stern.
He rolls his eyes again but takes the stuffed dog. He cuddles the dog and gives it a kiss. “Happy now?” You can see the hint of a smile on his face. You nod.
You quickly use the bathroom, brush your teeth and pull your hair back. You quietly head back to your bedroom to grab your phone and meds. You have to cover your mouth with your head to keep from laughing.
Bucky had already fallen back to sleep, but he was holding you stuff dog like it was his lifeline. You figured he’d chuck it once you left, but he didn’t. You snap a picture and head downstairs. You see Steve in the kitchen and a lump under a blanket on the couch. Sam.
“Morning Steve,” you say quietly.
“Morning Y/n,” he whispers with a smile.
“Look at this,” you giggle. You show Steve the picture of Bucky to which he laughs. You hear Sam grumble something about being quiet.
“You should have gone to bed sooner,” you snicker. Sam stuck his arm out from under the blanket, flipping you off.
You get started on the bread while Steve fires up the grill. You both work in harmony to get things started and prepped.
Around 8, Sam decided to give up on trying to sleep in. He made himself a bowl of cereal and plopped on the couch to watch some cartoons. By 8:30, Bucky had sauntered down the stairs and immediately plastered himself to your back.
“Morning princess,” he mumbles into your neck. He presses a kiss there.
“Morning Bucky,” you smile.
After about five minutes of him hanging on you, you make him get off. He pouts but lets you go, grabbing a bowl of cereal and joining Sam on the couch to watch cartoons.
By 9, Nat and Yelena had come down. Yelena joining the boys and Nat helping out in the kitchen. At 11, you and Nat force the three stooges to get ready and clean up. Slowly but surely, you, Nat, and Steve get ready.
Bucky and Yelena keep up on dishes, so you aren’t running the dishwasher ten different times today. Bucky washes them while Yelena dries and puts them away. You and Yelena set the table, Bucky and Sam had cleaned up the living room by then. And finally, by 1, the table was being filled with food.
Steve had cooked the turkey and while that was cooking, he did the gravy, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. Nat cooked her homemade mac & cheese and some corn. You had cooked the homemade rolls that, in Sam’s words, were to die for. You had also made some fudge and a pumpkin pie.
Finally, once everyone sat down, Steve and Nat on one side, you and Bucky on the other, Sam at one end, Yelena at the other. The wine was poured and Steve said grace. Steve cut the turkey and everyone filled up their plates with food.
While you ate, Bucky rested his hand on your thigh. After a while it started to slide up, his pinky toying with the hem of the long-sleeved dress you wore. He didn’t move it much more than that, just wanting to tease you.
By the time everyone finished, Kate, Wanda, and Clint had shown up. They were just in time for dessert. You and Kate had fudge while everyone else had pie. After a little more pie and wine, everyone moved to the living room to hang out, leaving you and Steve to clean up the mess.
You put the food away and loaded the first load of dishes in the dishwasher. Steve threw napkins and various things away, sweeping the crumbs up and taking the trash out. Steve went to join the others while you finished wiping the counters.
When you finished you headed to the living room, pausing in the archway. Steve and Nat were cuddled on the couch under a blanket, watching a Christmas movie. Clint, Kate, and Wanda were playing some board game. Yelena and Sam were building a Castle out of Legos.
You smiled. This was your family. This was your home.
Your smile widened when you felt two arms wrap around your waist.
“Hey,” you say, your voice soft.
“You did a good job on the bread and pie,” Bucky says. He starts to kiss your neck. You tilt your head and relax against him.
“Thanks,” you bite your lip. “Since everyone is preoccupied, what do you wanna do?”
He hums and slides his hands to your waist, spinning you around. “I think I want some dessert.” You can hear the lust in his voice.
“Didn’t you already have dessert?” You giggle, knowing full well that’s not what he’s talking about.
“Not that kind of dessert princess, this one’s more...sweet.” He runs his nose up your neck to nibble on your ear.
“I don’t know, that pie was pretty sweet.”
He huffs and tosses you over his shoulder, making you giggle. You playfully grope his ass as he walks, he really did have a nice ass. He kicks your bedroom door shut with his foot and tosses you on the bed.
Bucky kneels on the bed between your thighs, pushing the loose skirt of you dress up around your waist. He spreads your legs and rips your panties, growl coming from him when he sees you���re already wet.
“You have got to stop ripping my panties! I’m gonna run out soon.” Your laugh turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit.
“Sorry princess,” he mumbles absentmindedly, eyes focused on your pussy.
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” he agrees with a smirk. He leans down, laying on his stomach between your legs, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
He makes his way up one thigh before switching to the other, causing you to huff. He presses one last kiss to your thigh before hovering his lips over your pussy. He blows on your pussy, causing you to shudder. He chuckles and runs his tongue through your folds up to your clit.
You gasp and thread your fingers through his hair. He eats you out like a man starved, like this is his first meal in days. He sucks on your clit, making your hips buck. He throws his metal arm over your hips to keep them still.
He runs his tongue down to your slit, sucking up your juices. He starts to fuck you with his tongue, he thrusts it in and out. His two-day old stubble rubs against the skin around your pussy, making you close your thighs around his head.
He brings two fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in and curling them in that way that has you seeing stars. He adds a third one, fucking you with his fingers, his mouth back to sucking on your clit.
He moans against your pussy, the vibrations running through you and bringing you that much closer to the edge. Your fingers tighten in his hair. With one last curl of his fingers, you cum, moaning his name.
He helps you ride it out, lapping up your juices. He gives your clit one last kiss before sitting up. He pulls your dress over your head and throws it behind him, he flings your bra in the same direction.
He pulls his shirt over his head and you run your hands over his abs. You don’t think you’d ever get tired of seeing this man naked. Once his pants are off, he covers you with his body, lips latching onto one of your nipples, his metal hand squeezing and pinching the other one.
You reach down and grab his cock, stroking him a couple of times and making his hips buck. You run his tip through your folds and line him up.
“Ready princess?” He pants. You nod.
He slowly pushes in, burying himself all the way in with one thrust. He laces his fingers with yours and pins your hands above your head. You wrap your legs around his waist.
When you give him the okay, he pulls out and thrusts back in, starting a slow pace. He buries his face in your neck, sucking and biting, leaving his mark on you.
His pace starts to pick up, your moans and whimpers like music to his ears. Soon enough he’s pounding you into the bed. Skin slapping against skin fills the room, the air smelling of sex. You bite your lip to keep from moaning too loud, knowing your friends are still right downstairs.
“Let them hear,” he pants into your neck. “Let them hear I good I can fuck you.” he angles his hips to hit that special spot, making you cry out. “There you go,” he grins.
Each thrust hits that spot, bringing you closer and closer. The patch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit, adding to your pleasure. Bucky can feel you squeezing him, he knows your close.
“Come on, princess, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum.” That all you need, the band in your stomach snapping and stars blurring your vision. Your back arches and you moan his name, probably a little too loud.
Bucky fucks you through it before his thrust grow sloppy and he’s cumming inside you with a groan of your name on his lips.
He collapses on top of you, panting and still feeling the after effects of his orgasm. You rub his back and run your fingers through his hair as you both catch your breath. He makes a contented sound and nuzzles his face into your chest.
After a few moments of silence his phone vibrates on the nightstand, indicating a text message.
He carefully pulls out and rolls over to grab his phone. He makes a ‘hmm’ sound before setting it down and pulling you back into his arms, spooning you from behind, ready for a nap.
“Who was that?” You ask softly.
“My mom,” he mumbles into your hair.
“Oh..is everything okay?”
“She wants us to come home for Christmas.”
#honeybunnywrites#bucky#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky fanfic#marvel#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky barnes x plus size reader#sebastian stan#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky smut#bucky fluff#bucky imagine#bucky x female reader
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The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 05/July/2024
Not exactly the week I was hoping for this week, but I suppose it happens sometimes!
Me and Nai got absolutely slammed with stomach flu this week. We were wiped out Sunday and Monday, then finally thought we were over it Tuesday…only for it to hit us again in full force. So that was…fun, lol.
We did manage to push ourselves to move our working space to somewhere with stable internet finally! I’d actually forgotten what working internet was like until I loaded a webpage in the new space and it just loaded—just like that! :D
So hoping that will make a massive difference to just being able to do things smoothly now.
But whilst I was out of commission for a bit, I did manage to do a few things: as I was thinking over the coding and what’s coming up, I did realise there’s a massive bug for imported characters that I’ll be able to fix before imported characters are even enabled, so that’s a big thing!
Also, I designed the villain’s masquerade mask! I ADORE it so much! That will be up on Patreon as part of the sketch series I’m doing on there soon. Still have Nate/Nat’s and Farah/Felix’s masks to go in that series as well.
I also wrote a couple of loose scenes to keep me in the flow where the MC kind of ‘falls’ into an AU version of the love interest’s backstory and gets to experience it first hand, as well as interact with the vampires how they were back then.
It won’t be in the main series, but it was a seriously interesting writing exercise!
When we finally started feeling like we could stand up without the world spinning away around us, we really knuckled down to it!
I got the first part of the edits back from the editor, so I’m currently working on those.
I’m hoping to get Chapter Two into the demo some time at the end of this month pushing into early August as a loose idea of date, then Chapter Three and Four will be released together quite some time after that. But Chapter Two has A LOT going on that I really want to get out soon so I can chat about it with you all, hehe! ;D
Next week will be social media days, as well as pushing on with Chapter Three. I’m coming into a section that is seriously massive to write. It has three different versions to start with, as well as branching and variations within each version on top. But it does bring in the introduction of a new Unit, which I’m super excited for!
Hope you all have an amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I'll update you all again next week! <3
#the wayhaven chronicles#interactive fiction#update#twc book 4#the wayhaven chronicles book 4#choice of games#hosted games#interactive novel#choicescript#creative writing#vampires#supernatural#supernaturals#fantasy#patreon#twc book 4 demo
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just finished the bear season 3 and there is such a collective cognitive dissonance from everywhere from the writing of the show all the way to the social media marketing.
i know i’m biased because i particularly like syd and carmy together, but this season was strange but in different ways than the last season was strange.
not only does carmy take a backseat as a protagonist about halfway through, he and syd have hardly any scenes together, but i think the show almost suffers for it. this season was certainly funnier than the last, but the neil and ted fak got old and old fast. it certainly doesn’t help that even though carmy has a new arc every season, but he doesn’t take the lessons he should’ve learned into how he should act going forward. it’s stunting his growth and now that we have three seasons to compare to one another, it’s only more apparent.
we’ve already talked about how funny characters are stronger than comic relief characters and that’s essentially what the faks are. i really liked neil’s more vulnerable moments where he got to be taken seriously but it’s hard to take him seriously when all of his screen time is him doing stupid shit. also the hauntings thing? it really was not that funny.
also the show is making such an active attempt to rewrite its own history and i don’t understand why. so many little details that connect moments from the past and present to make up who the characters are and yet it’s kind of being thrown out the window.
claire being described as carmy’s peace threw me for a loop because he felt out of place in his own relationship. i think we all know the clip of carmy’s late s2 panic attack where thinking of claire and him together makes it worse but now we are given so many more scenes of when he was happy? what narrative are they trying to spin here? was carmy genuinely in love with claire or mostly disinterested, because it can’t be both.
even claire doesn’t seem interested in being with carmy at this point, and who can blame her?
her presence was just kind of weird to me, because she didn’t really interact with the rest of the cast until the 9th episode. i think her brief hospital scenes were to flesh her out more, but it’s really just creating vulnerabilities and revealing the seams. and because she’s never really been developed as much as everyone else in the series, we’re left with more questions. who was that in her bed? why was she never fired for insane medical malpractice? what is any of this for?
also a lot of the lighting this season has changed. i saw one user (can’t remember who but their post was super interesting) mention how much warmer and inviting the scenes with syd are as opposed to the coolness and almost detachment the scenes with claire were. except we see carmy in cool lighting a lot more this season.
i also wanted to add where carmy gets overwhelmed in the finale, thoughts of claire coming in with a violin sting like a horror movie doesn’t add to the narrative that they keep telling us. that’s another thing i noticed. they tell us how great claire was even though their time together hindered him being involved with his passions and his coworkers, but they retcon things and add scenes of them happy and have carmy tell us how amazing she is but they barely cared to show us.
a huge theme in this show is family and responsibility. and the scene where neil fak said claire could be the one to take care of carmy and vice versa really rubbed me the wrong way. first of all, i think it kind of supports the idea of codependency which isn’t great but i could be reaching. second, carmy isn’t really equipped to take care of anyone and i think the way he interacts with his coworkers when he’s frustrated is proof of that.
don’t get me wrong, i thought this season was amazing television, christopher storer is a brilliant writer and director, joanna calo really should helm more episodes bc ice chips was actually a perfect episode, and ayo getting the opportunity to direct tina’s episode was so amazing and i really hope i see her name in more directorial projects in the near future. but i think we’re getting a little lost in the plot here and losing sight of what the heart of the show is. the literal restaurant. and logically some of the decisions made don’t exactly hold up and i would hate to see this show fumble.
it can’t be a coincidence that so much of the show’s marketing is tied to carmy and syd and i think efforts to trick the audience are actually making the show suffer. or the increasingly less subtle decisions in the editing in the few scenes of them together? are you really gonna gaslight a whole audience for the sake of a misdirect?
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Resensitized (part 3) | Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You're dating your pornstar roommate. Everything is great! Well, except for the jealousy you're trying not to feel. (part one, part two)
Word Count: 4K
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Pornstar!Eddie x fem reader (no use of y/n), pwp and lots of feelings, reader tries being a soft dom (and succeeds), she’s jealous but also kinda into it. mild degradation, unprotected p in v, oral male receiving, fem self-gratification, he really do be begging for her, once again Eddie is a simp, playful banter, things get super romantic because that's all I know how to write
A/N: GUYS I FINALLY WROTE IT! So many of you wanted part three, and I really hope it meets expectations. This one is a bit different than the others because reader tries something new. I tried to take all your suggestions into account! Anyway, I think I am going to end this series, but thank you so much to all who read and enjoyed ♥️
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It had been one week since you and Eddie decided to start dating, and it was working fine. Actually, it was easier than any of your previous relationships. You were already best friends, and you were already living together, so it’s not like you got tired of each other or were surprised by much. You spent more time together now, setting nights aside for movies and sex and cooking dinner together and having sex and grabbing a drink and then having sex.
Yeah. You had sex a lot. The two of you were kind of crazy for each other, but it wasn’t like your relationship was only about sex, it just happened to be what you were doing a lot because you’d been doing all the other stuff already. You had a lot of sex to catch up on, and you took that seriously.
And when he wasn’t home….
Okay.
Was it fucked up that sometimes when you were alone in your room you watched your roommate’s porn videos to get off?
….Probably.
But did you care? Nope!
You tried not to think about the psychology behind it. It was probably something like a cuckolding thing, or whatever. It didn’t matter who he slept with on camera, because he slept with you off camera, and it was amazing.
But then one day you stumbled across a video of him with a woman who looked remarkably like you, and that was the first time you felt that dreadful sting of jealousy. And then after that, you found out he had made a video with her recently, and that’s when your envy got much worse.
Fuck.
You didn’t want to be jealous. You wanted to be the cool girl who was dating a porn star and didn’t feel weird about it, because you knew going into it that this was his job. You knew he was a porn star when you moved in and became best friends and you definitely knew when he offered to use his porn-star skills to blow your mind. And you knew when you went on a date, and when you had sex again, and when you agreed to keep dating. You knew it the whole time, and you told yourself over and over again that you could date him and not be jealous about how he was fucking other women at work during the day and coming home to you at night, but the truth was -
Okay, this woman looked just like you. That’s fucked up!
But you recognized that this was your issue, and you couldn’t possibly tell him this, because this was his career. He made good money from his work. If you told him you felt weird about it, you knew he’d feel at least a little pressured to re-evaluate his job or quit altogether, and you didn’t want to be that guy. But you also didn’t want to stop dating him, so…
It was time to quietly suffer just a little bit and hope he didn’t notice.
Besides, you’d be sitting at home feeling jealous or whatever while he was at work, and then you’d hear the front door open, and suddenly he’d be climbing on top of you and desperately reaching for any part of you to hold and squeeze and touch, and he was moaning and gasping into your mouth like he’d been suffocating and you were his only source of oxygen, and then it didn’t matter anymore if you were jealous, because you couldn’t think.
The first thing he wanted when he came home from work was you. How could you ever complain?
-
“Something fucked up happened at work today.”
Um. Not really what you’d wanted to hear when Eddie got home, but okay. It was supposed to be one of your date nights, but then he came home from work looking…forlorn? Distracted? Nervous? You couldn’t tell.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just went straight to his room, and then to the shower. He used showers as therapy, basically. That’s what you’d figured out over the course of your lease thus far. Anyway, one of the perks of dating a porn star was that, when your partner came home looking sad like that, your first thought wasn’t “oh God, he fucked someone else.” Cuz, ya know, duh. That came with the territory. You hadn’t really talked about what cheating would entail, or if your relationship was exclusive, but he wasn’t seeing anyone outside of work, and you weren’t seeing anyone outside of him.
He satisfied you more than enough, so…
There was, of course, the one thing that did worry you. You were still feeling that burn of jealousy in your stomach about that video of him with your look-a-like. You repressed the feeling as much as you could, but it was still there, and you couldn’t help but wonder if his mood was related.
“What happened?” you asked. He shrugged, and you noticed his wet hair was leaving spots on his old t-shirt.
“Well, it was -” he stopped himself, palming the back of his neck. “It was while I was - uhh, you know. With someone else.”
You swallowed. “I figured,” you said.
Okay, it was gonna come to this eventually. He’d never been explicit with you about his work, and that was fine. Obviously you weren’t completely in the dark, thanks to your secret night-time habit, but he never told you about what it was like to be with someone else. It wasn’t like you were offended, it just wasn’t something you needed to know. You weren’t sure how you’d feel if you did know, and now you realized you were about to find out.
“Is it weird for me to tell you about it?” he wondered.
You stared at him, and you were pretty sure your expression would have been funny if you were looking at yourself and not panicking on the inside.
“I’m not sure,” you responded. “Probably. Tell me anyway and let’s find out.”
There was a shared nervous smile between the two of you. You couldn’t wait for the tension to dissipate. You had to know what was making him act like this.
“Okay, so -” he began, pacing the living room floor and avoiding eye contact. In all the time you’d known him, he rarely avoided eye contact. It was actually incredibly intimidating how much he stared deeply into your eyes when he talked to you.
Aaaand incredibly hot when he did it while having sex with you. Anyway.
“I couldn’t get off,” he continued. “And I’ve told you that happens pretty often for me, but this was even worse than usual. Like, I was nowhere close. So, that was frustrating, and then I - I started thinking about the other night. I started thinking about…you.”
He stopped pacing, but his gaze remained on the floor. Your eyes widened.
Oh.
“Did it work?” you asked. Something in your voice must have tipped him off that you weren’t angry - and you weren’t - far from it, actually. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and the tension in the room shifted to that of a different kind.
“Like a fucking charm,” he replied.
Oh.
If someone had told you before you met Eddie that this kind of thing would have gotten you hot and bothered, you would have been confused. You still would have been confused as you were feeling it, but you were too turned on to even focus on the confusion.
It was bad enough that you sometimes enjoyed watching him with other women, and now you were wet at the thought of him fucking someone else and having to think about you to enjoy it?
Wait, no. Actually, you were pretty sure that the second part was objectively hot.
“Well, you were right. That is fucked up,” you said. For a moment, his face fell. His eyebrows scrunched together, and concern flooded his expression again. He walked toward you to take your hands in his, bringing them to his lips.
“I know,” he said, kissing down your wrist. “Fuck, I - I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry -”
“No, no,” you interrupted, sliding your hands from his grasp up to either side of his face. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t really understand what I’m feeling, but for whatever reason I’m very, very into this.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Seriously?” You nodded, hungry.
“Uh-huh.”
What you had was electric and powerful. It was like you were magnetically drawn to each other. Your lips quickly found his as your hands tangled in his wet hair, pulling it the way you knew he liked. You bit and nipped at him, resenting that you had to be gentle. You didn’t want to be gentle this time. You wanted nothing more than to ruin him.
Because you had ruined him, clearly. You’d ruined all other women for him. You both knew it.
You felt possessed by something so much bigger than the two of you. A deep, instinctual desire - an unstoppable desperation. You walked him backwards until you reached the couch in the living room, then pushed him until he was sitting down. He stared up at you, slack-jawed and panting, his swollen lips pink and shiny, his eyes dark and wide.
You slipped your shirt off over your head and let it fall to the floor. He reached for you, but you shook your head. You wanted to undress for him, this time. Your fingers slowly trailed down your exposed stomach and to the button of your jeans, working them undone. He watched your every methodical, deliberate, tantalizing move, and you could see the shape of his hard dick growing beneath the fabric of his pajama pants. He palmed himself as you slid your jeans down your legs and kicked them off. Next came your bra, and then your underwear.
You were standing fully naked in front of him, which would have been enough to drive him insane, but then you slowly got on your knees.
“Ohhhh, Sweetheart,” he drawled, his breathing getting more and more erratic. “What are you doing to me?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” you teased, tugging at his pants until they were past his hips. It took some squirming on his end, followed by giggles between the two of you, but then you were pushing his legs apart to get between them and leaning over to suck him off.
“Fuuuuck me,” he whined as your lips found his tip. His head fell back, his eyelids drooping.
“I will,” you replied, coy. “But I want to try something first.”
The first time you’d hooked up, he’d told you he’d always wanted to try degradation and being a bit more of a sub, but since then you’d only ever fed into the kind of stuff he did at work. He focused a lot on your pleasure - and he always enjoyed himself too, but still. You wanted this time to be different.
You wanted to own him.
“Anything,” he muttered. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”
He was taking to being submissive quite well, wasn’t he? And you were doing pretty well at the soft dom thing.
(You may or may not have done some research on the subject)
“I’m the only one that can make you come, right?” you asked as you teased his cock with gentle licks and kisses. He groaned and moaned at your touch, then nodded viciously. “Okay. This time, I don’t want you to come until I say you can. Deal?”
He nodded so fucking fast you worried he would get whiplash. It was kinda cute how red in the face he was. He looked as if he was going to burst.
And then he said something you didn’t expect.
“Am I - am I dreaming?”
You pulled away from him and sat back on your knees, looking up at his face and waiting for him to break and explain the joke, but he didn’t.
“What?”
“Am I - fuck, never mind,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t fucking care if I’m dreaming, just - just don’t stop, baby, please. I - I - don’t stop.”
God. His begging really did something to you. You smiled, and then your smile turned to a smirk as you decided to resume your work. The lust within you took over again, and suddenly you were climbing on top of him, straddling him, grinding against him until his eyes rolled back into his head.
It felt good for you too, of course, but that wasn’t what you were worried about.
Degradation. That was the word he used when talking about what he was interested in. You also knew that sometimes, fantasies didn’t feel the way you thought they would when they actually played out. You were slightly worried about this next part, but figured it was worth a shot -
“All those women and I’m the only one that can get you off,” you said as you continued rocking your hips against his erection. “You’re not even inside me and you’re a fucking mess.”
His mouth was open in a silent scream, his eyes fixed to the ceiling.
“Please fuck me,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Please, please fuck me.”
You’d gotten tested for STI’s the day after you and Eddie agreed to keep dating, and everything came back clean. He was routinely tested as well, so…no need for condoms, really. Especially with you on birth control. The main reason you still sometimes used them was for easier cleanup, but considering how often you two had sex, it was far more convenient to go without and suffer the consequences as they came (pun intended).
You lifted yourself high enough to line him up with your entrance, then slowly sank back down. Immediately, he was melting beneath you, which only made you wetter for him. You slid him into you until he bottomed out, then stilled.
“Remember,” you whispered against his lips. “Don’t come until I say so. I wanna come first.” Immediately, his hand dove between the two of you as his fingers went to find your clit, but you grabbed him by the wrist. “No, I want to do it myself.”
And so, Eddie watched you. He watched as you touched yourself while bouncing up and down in a steady rhythm, progressively getting faster and deeper until you were clenching around him. It took everything in him not to grab you and fuck into you harder and faster. Never in his life had he tried so hard not to come, and that’s why this was all so pleasurable.
When your moans sounded just the way he liked them to and he felt you get warmer and wetter around him, he nearly lost it. He almost spilled into you, but managed to hold off by digging his nails into the meat of his thighs.
For your second orgasm, you let him use his fingers while you rode him, telling him exactly what to do. And after you’d settled, and your mind centered back in your body, you realized you’d put him through enough.
“Okay,” you exhaled. “I got mine.”
Eddie was so completely fucked out. He looked like you probably should have, but you still felt in control. It was a nice contrast to all the other times he’d had you screaming and whimpering his name. He didn’t even react - he seemed to have no idea what to do next.
“Aww,” you said, running your hands through his hair. “Did I fuck the thoughts out of that pretty head of yours? Come on, I know you know what to do next.”
“You want me to -?” he began. His voice was weak and hesitant. “You want me to fu - I mean, now?” Instead of answering, you slid off his lap and got on all fours beside him.
He was fucking you within probably about three seconds.
He grabbed your hips and pulled you into him, thrusting into you over and over again, faster and harder and causing all kinds of noises to echo in the room. The sounds of skin and desire, all culminating into something that sent you spiraling into orbit.
You almost didn’t notice when he spoke again.
“Tell me to come,” he pleaded. “Tell me I can come now.”
You were well past the point of teasing him, so instead you gave in.
“Do it,” you permitted. “Come inside me.”
So, he did. He filled you and continued fucking you until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up so your back was against his chest, then left desperate kisses on your cheek, neck, and shoulder - wherever his lips would reach. You felt his heavy breathing, the rise and fall of his ribs, the warmth of his skin. He wished the feeling would never end - he wished he could spend eternity doing just this, and then he wished he had several other eternities to spend doing nothing with you. He loved every moment. He was so far fucking gone into loving you. Perfect, beautiful, intoxicating, you.
-
There was a box of tissues on the coffee table, which ended up being a lifesaver in terms of cleanup. Of course, the two of you had to work together to reach over and get the box without toppling over. Then, you both wandered silently to your room, knowing that you’d be far more comfortable cuddling on a bed.
He held you so close to him it almost felt more intimate than sex.
“That was -” he began, his tone calm and warm. “That was the first time I’ve done that.” You giggled, angling your neck to kiss him quickly before returning to lay your head back on his chest.
“Was it as good as you hoped it would be?” you asked.
“I still can’t really think straight, so yeah,” he replied. You laughed again. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
You bit your lip, the anxiety returning just a little bit.
“There’s a lot of great info out there on the internet,” you responded. He chuckled, then kissed the top of your head.
“I know, I’m involved in a lot of it,” he said. And then he said something else, and your heart stopped. “You know, when you said - ‘Did I fuck the thoughts out of that pretty head of yours?’ - I was thinking about how that question was kind of familiar.”
You were so glad your ear was to his chest and it wasn’t the other way around, because he absolutely would have been able to hear your pulse rising.
“It’s a common thing for people to say when they’re doing the degradation thing,” you quickly replied, hoping he’d drop it but knowing he wouldn’t.
“Oh, I know,” he continued. You could hear a smirk in his voice. “I’ve used that line a lot.”
Now your heart was beating so fast, you wondered if he could feel it pounding in your chest somehow. You sat up, noticing the way he was looking at you as if he was saying - Gotcha.
“It wasn’t -” you sputtered. You weren’t sure why you were even attempting to keep this from him anymore. “It’s not like you came up with it, Eddie. It’s - that’s - it wasn’t -”
“Baby,” he said with a light laugh. “I’m just teasing you. But, your reaction is veeeeeery suspicious.”
You were blushing so hard it burned your cheeks. Meanwhile, he was completely amused by the whole situation.
“Okay, so I’ve watched more of your videos!” you confessed, probably too loudly. And then, the words kept flowing before you could stop them. “Sue me! My boyfriend is fucking other women and sometimes I get curious, and sometimes I think it’s hot - although, to be fair, I only focus on you, obviously. Except for when you’re paired with the woman who’s basically my twin, and then I just get - ugh, whatever. It’s not a big deal.”
He was grinning, practically giddy, and it drove you crazy.
“Boyfriend?” he asked, chuffed. You rolled your eyes.
“Shut up, you’re obviously my boyfriend,” you shot back immediately. “Is that seriously all you got from my whole confession?”
“What do you think I am, your priest?” he teased. He put his arm around you to pull you back into him. “Don’t get any ideas, by the way. No way I’d ever do religion roleplay. That’s off limits, even for you.”
You had to admit - the phrase even for you gave you butterflies.
“You’re not into the whole, ‘forgive me, father, for I’ve been a bad bad girl’ kind of thing?” you asked, allowing yourself to tease him back. He chuckled, running his fingers through your hair.
“Ah, so you do watch porn that’s not me,” he replied. You couldn’t help but smile at his joke, but you playfully smacked him on the arm in retaliation.
“Of course I do,” you answered. “Not that kind though, don’t worry.”
“Hey, I don’t kinkshame,” he said, putting his hands in the air. “But that’s one you’d have to go find with someone else.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” you said back. Your words were decisive and stern. “Come on, let’s just be honest. I like you. I want to be with you. And I really try not to get jealous, and I don’t want to be jealous, but sometimes I am. Because I want to be the one for you. Like, that’s why I jumped you today. I know it’s your job, and I don’t want you to change your life for me. But yeah, I get jealous sometimes. And, like, this is less serious, but I wanna be able to bite you and not think about whether or not I’m leaving marks for someone else to see. For your partners or thousands of viewers to see. I just - I don’t want to feel this way, but I do.”
Eddie’s hands returned to your hair. He sighed, but it wasn’t a sigh of disappointment or anger - it was something else.
“You wanna mark me up, huh?” he responded. “Tell me more about that.”
You hated it when he got evasive like this. Lately it had been happening more and more.
“Oh my God,” you groaned. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been holding back, you know. I’m a biter.” Eddie’s eyes lit up.
“You’re reeeeeally fucking with my refractory period, baby,” he said. You rolled your eyes.
“Eddie, focus,” you told him. “This is serious.”
His last wall came down. You could practically see it happen.
“I know,” he said at last. “I know it’s serious, and - and I don’t want to be with anyone else either. Like, I’ve been really struggling with work and thinking about how I can get past it, but I can’t. And then they paired me with someone who - yeah, it’s freaky how much she looks like you, I agree - but I promise it was just weird for me, because she wasn’t you. No one is you. I don’t want to be with aaaaanybody else, honest to God. I just - I love you, okay? I’m in love with you.”
Of all the things he could have said - of all the things you wished for - all the things you hoped he’d say - this was better than all of them. This was - this was everything.
“You’re in love with me?” you echoed, your voice small and quiet.
“Afraid so,” he replied with a slight smile. “Genuinely, it’s terrifying. I’ve never - Sweetheart, you’re it for me. You gotta know that.”
For a minute, you didn’t know how to respond. You wondered how long he’d loved you - how long he’d known that you were what he wanted. You thought about yourself, and how your feelings for him were clearly there, but love? You hadn’t considered being in love with him, and yet the moment he told you he loved you, it was as if all the puzzle pieces came together.
“I love you too,” you told him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You continued cuddling and talking after that as you discussed what you were going to do next. More specifically, what he was going to do next. He’d have to take a pay cut and switch to solo stuff, but he had enough saved up to get by. There was also the option of you joining him for a video, but that was a question for another day.
You had time to think about it. In fact, it was possible you had your whole life.
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Rooftop Talks (Wind Breaker)
*Kicks door in* @fanfic-chan! Dessie! It is I! Squiggily- you're Squealing Santa! :D Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas- Wondrous Winter; whatever you celebrate, I hope this year has been kind to you and your loved ones! Thank you for always being so lovely!
Fandom: Windbreaker
Characters: Sakura and Umemiya (platonic)
Prompt: "Any platonic scenarios generally are good with me, I'm not much into romance though. ^^'"
Summary: Umemiya invites Sakura to the roof for a chat. (Word Count: 1.4k)
'“Sakura, come with me.” Umemiya gestured him over, eyes warm and smile inviting. “Let’s chat.”
Said boy stared at him, brows furrowing. “Huh?? What the hell- what kind of request is that?” He raised his fists, automatically assuming Bofurin’s leader was ready to fight.
Umemiya only laughed in response, a loud sound deep from his belly as he slapped Sakura on the back, shaking him from his defensive pose. “Oh my god, you’re amazing! I’m so happy you came to our town!”
Sakura didn’t know what to say to that. His face turned bright pink as he made a series of grumpy sounds, tucking his fist into his pockets. “Whatever. What do you want to talk about, anyway?”
Umemiya didn’t respond, only smiling as he walked them up the stairs leading to the roof. It was chilly today- the warmth of the sun kept them from shivering as they stood side by side on the edge. “Beautiful, isn’t it? You can see all of Furin from up here.”
….Huh? He didn’t seriously bring Sakura up here just to look at the skyline? “It’s fine, I guess.”
“Hah. So poetic. I figured you not the time to write sonnets.” Umemiya patted his shoulder, eyes never leaving the skyline. “Wouldn’t you say however this view makes you feel at peace? I do everything up here- eating, napping, thinking. Oh, you should come plant with me-”
“What exactly are we here for?” Sakura couldn’t take this small talk. Not while his nerves were tight with sudden anxiety. “You said you wanted to chat. I know you didn’t drag he up here just to look at buildings.
Umemiya finally looked at him then, eyes kind. “You’re right. I brought you up here for a reason.”
“Well?” Sakura blurted after a beat of silence. The suspense was killing him!
“I brought you up here…to have coffee.”
…What the hell was that supposed to mean? Sakura gaped at the older man as he walked towards the table, pulling out two cups and a thermos. Once everything was set up, he gestured to him. “I got this from Kotoha’s place. Super fresh batch too. Don’t let her good grace go to waste.
“You’re screwing with me.”
“I’m not. Promise.” Umemiya grinned as he raised his cup. “You’re like a feral cat, you know? All claws and hisses.”
Sakura gritted his teeth, finally coming over and sitting down. He took the offered cup in his hands, welcoming the heat. “I’m no cat. I’m not used to people wanting me around, that’s all.”
“Huh.” Umemiya’s voice softened some. “Their loss, yeah? You make such great company- anyone who can’t see that is blind.”
Sakura blushed and glared in his cup, hating how comforting that felt. Then he got mad all over for letting himself be comforted at all. “Why are you being so nice to me? You know I’m gunning for the number one spot! Shouldn’t you be more-?”
“More?” Umemiya looked amused. Sakura sputtered as he looked for the answer.
“More- I don’t know! Defensive? Guarded? Angry?” Sakura waved his hand about, as if the whole thing should be obvious. “I’m some idiot from who knows where who showed up one day!”
“Given we’re a whole school full of idiots, you fit right in then!”
“I could be evil!”
“You’re not.” Umemiya glared, shutting that down. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“Tch-” Sakura wanted to argue, but the finality made him look away. A hand came to his head, ruffling his hair.
“You’re a good kid, Sakura. A great one. Who else shows up to a town he only knew for an hour and protects it without a second thought?” Umemiya was smiling again, the expression warm. “ If you do take it, I know you’ll carry on the legacy I leave behind.”
Fuck- why did he have to say such things? Sakura blinked rapidly as he ducked his head, glaring at his knuckle white hands. “You say that now, but you don’t know what I’ll do to de-throne you. I could betray you when you least expect it.”
“Oo, look at you thinking you’re some super villain!” Umemiya poked his side, grinning when Sakura twitched. “Okay, Mr. Bad guy- how are you gonna betray me? Gonna gather all the first years around and pull a Caesar?
“Whahaht? Erk! Whhihihy the hehehell woohohuld I doohohho thahaht?” Sakura yelped, squirming some when that dastardly finger kept poking him. “Stahhap!”
“Yeah, you’re right- I can’t personally see any of you with knives. Pencils maybe? Oo, light sabers! I wouldn’t mind going down to that! Make sure you stab me here, and here, oh and definitely here!” Umemiya poked all over, jabbing his sides and back with rapid but gentle precision. Sakura batted and swatted at him, giggles bubbling over as he lost the battle. “Are you guys gonna wear little leaf crowns? I want it as biblically accurate as possible!”
“Thahahat’s not eehehehven in stahahahar whahahahrs! Aheahhaha, shihihiht! Knohohck it ohoohohff!” Sakura fumed through his laughter, falling to his side with a gentle push. The pokes turned to flicks and scratches, making him yell out as he shoved at the hands. “Stahahhahap!”
“Your right, your right- Caesar is so dated. Oh! Let’s do the Walking Dead! Come at me like a bunch of cannibals! Roar!” He playfully growled at Sakura as he dug into his belly, relishing the sudden boom of laughter spilling out. “Oo, are you ticklish here? That’s a good spot, huh?”
“Shuhuhuhuhut uhuuhhup! Gehahahahhaha, wehehehhe’re nohohohot cahhahahanahahahbles ehehehehither!” Sakura howled, pushing as hard as he could against the fingers scratching at his belly, kicking his legs like a dog. Much to his annoyance, the visual of them eating Umemiya was funny- further worsening his giggle fits. “I dohohoon’t ehehehven thihihink Suohohoho ehahahhats!”
“Oh yeah- he’s so secretive about that. Okay, new game plan. When it’s time for me to go, I want you guys to go mediival on me! Get some horses and tie me to them!” He raised Sakura’s arm, jabbing him rapidly in the armpit and making him scream. “Tie me up here…and here…”
“GEHAHAH! UHUUHUMEHEHEHMIIHIHIYA!” Sakura was dying- he swore he could feel his soul starting to depart. The Sanzu river was just in sight. “STAHHAAP!”
���Oh? Okay then!” Umemiya did just so, the visions of a river fading with each slow dying giggle. “Well, we can workshop it later. I’m sure when you guys decide how to dethrone me, it’s gonna be spectacular! Wait!” He leaned forward with excited eyes. “I want a parade!”
“Pfft- whihihth plaahhants as the theheme?” He huffed out, the image of Nirei and Suo in tomato outfits suddenly coming to mind. He pictured Sugishita in a potato suit, face glum and all. It was enough to make him wheeze.
“You see my vision!” Umemiya cried in glee, laughing alongside him. “Whoo! Okay, okay- enough of that. We’re both gonna be lightheaded. Come here.” The older boy gently tugged Sakura back up to a sitting position, passing him a bottle of water. Where the hell did he even get that? “How do you feel, Sakura?”
“Like death.” His reply was automatic. His growing smirk died down when he saw the returning seriousness in the older man’s smile. “What? Like- right now?”
“Mhm.”
“.....Uh..I guess not bad?” He winced, blushing fiercely at his lack of description. “I feel okay. Fine, really.” The more he said it, the more true it felt.
“That’s good. Real good.” Umemiya nodded, squeezing his shoulder. “I hate seeing my brothers and sisters sad. I hate it more hearing them call themselves something so terrible as ‘evil’.” The pointed look made Sakura squirm. “To tell you the truth, the reason I brought you up here was because you seemed so down lately.”
“I wasn’t-”
“I know people, Sakura, don’t deny it.” Umemiya waved off his defenses, smiling gently. “I can tell when someone is unsure of themself. Consider today a reminder that you’re one of us, and you’ll always have your big brother Ume to talk to if you need me.”
“Gee, thanks.” Sakura tried to sound sarcastic, but it was clear to both of them the words meant everything. Umemiya nodded and ruffled his hair, further solidifying his promise.
Maybe having Umemiya as a big brother wasn’t so bad, afterall.
Thanks for reading and Happy Holidays!
#squealing santa 2k24#ss2k24#squealing santa#wind breaker#tickle#tickle fic#umemiya hajime#sakura haruka#platonic#brotherly affection#dorks being dorks#for my dear friend Dessie :3
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As much as I love Homestuck and praise it for the character writing. I have to say... (TW: rant) (Spoilers for Homestuck Act 5 Act 2 and beyond) FUCK YOU HUSSIE WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS FOR YOU PIECE OF SHIT HE DID NOT DESERVE THAT YOU MOTHERFUCKER
NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I EVER SEEN A CHARACTER WITH SUCH AMAZING POTENTIAL GET WIPED AWAY SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU CONSIDERED HIM A "JOKE CHARACTER" WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK!?!??!!??!??! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE LIMITLESS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT POTENTIAL EQUIUS HAD YOU HALF-BAKED OVER SEASONED FUCK OF AN AUTHOR?!!?!?!? DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE COGNITIVE ABILITY TO UNDERSTAND HOW GREATLY YOU FUMBLED THIS BAG!?!?!?!? DOES YOUR KITCHEN SHELF-LEVEL IQ EVEN COMPREHEND THE MISTAKE YOU MADE WHEN YOU DECIDED TO DO THIS?!?!!? EQUIUS' STORY COULD'VE BEEN FUCKING AWESOME!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW INTERESTING HE WAS!?!?!? HE COULD'VE LEARNED THAT THE HEMOSPECTRUM IS BULL AND FULLY APPRECIATED THE PEOPLE AROUND HIM?!!?!!? HE EVEN COULD'VE BEEN ANOTHER POTENTIALLY INCREDIBLE VOID PLAYER!!! ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING HE'S A FUCKING HEIR OF VOID!!! "HOW DOES HE INHERIT VOID?!?!?! GREAT QUESTION!!! TOO BAD YOU'LL NEVER FIND OUT BECAUSE HE ONLY HAS TWO BIG PARTS OF THE STORY AND ONE OF THEM IS HIS LITERAL FUCKING DEATH!!!" I COULD EXCUSE IT IF IT GAVE WAY FOR SOME CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT BUT GUESS FUCKING WHAT?! YOU FUMBLED THE BAG TWICE!!!
BECAUSE YOU KILLED THE ONE PERSON THAT WOULD'VE ACTIVALLY BEEN AFFECTED BY EQUIUS' DEATH YOU UTTER NINCOMPOOP!!! IT'S LIKE YOU GOT POSSESSED BY A FUCKING TROGLODYTE THE SECOND YOU STARTED WRITING THIS PART!!! NEPETA COULD'VE GONE THROUGH A SERIOUSLY AMAZING ARC ABOUT EQUIUS' DEATH AND WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A ROUGE OF HEART!!! IT WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU AND YOU MUST HAVE WORSE EYESIGHT THAN I DO BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T SEE IT!!! AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S FUCKING CRAZIER?!?!?! THE THIRD AND FINAL FUMBLE!!!
YOU GAVE JOHN THE ABILITY TO LITERALLY BRING PEOPLE BACK FROM THE DEAD!!! AND YOU ONLY BROUGHT BACK VRISKA?!?!?!??! THE ONLY TROLL THAT ACTIVALLY HAS BEEN SHOWN TO BE A PROBLEM?!?!?! YOU DIDN'T BRING BACK FEFERI, EVEN THOUGH A STRIFE BETWEEN HER AND THE CONDENSE WOULD'VE BEEN PERFECT!!! YOU DIDN'T BRING BACK ERIDAN, EVEN THOUGH IT WAS FORSHADOWED THAT HE WAS GOING TO DEFEAT LORD ENGLISH, AS WELL AS HAVE BE MOIRAILS WITH KARKAT AND MATESPRITS WITH ROXY!!! YOU DIDN'T BRING BACK TAVROS, EVEN THOUGH HALF OF GAMZEE'S PROBLEMS WOULDN'T EVEN EXIST AND IT WOULD'VE MADE FOR A GREAT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT FOR BOTH OF THEM!!! AND YOU DIDN'T BRING BACK THE TWO CHARACTERS WHO WOULD'VE HAD SOME OF THE BEST POTENTIAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, EQUIUS AND NEPETA!!!! AAHGHGHGH!!! ACT 6 WAS SUCH A GIANT BALL DROP ON EVERYTHING YOU SET UP FOR THE TROLLS!!! SO MUCH NOTHING HAPPENED!!! IT'S LIKE YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT VRISKA, WHICH IS PROBABLY THE CASE CONSIDERING YOUR SELF-INSERT TRIES TO GET WITH HER MULTIPLE TIMES, EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS DEAD AND LITERALLY FUCKING 13 YEARS OLD?!!?!?! I HAVE NEVER IN MY LIFE BEEN THIS LIVID OVER SOMETHING SO GLARINGLY OBVIOUS!!! IT'S LIKE YOU'RE BEING WILLINGLY OBTUSE!!! UUUUUGHGHGHUGHHGG!!!!!!! I SWEAR STUFF LIKE THIS MAKES ME FEEL LIKE A LIGHT PLAYER!!!
#homestuck#beta trolls#equius zahhak#nepeta leijon#rant#tw: rant#FUCK YOU ANDREW HUSSIE!!!#I HATE YOU!!!#AHHHHH#meowrails#gamzee makara#murderstuck#YOU'RE A MORON#AHHHHHHHHH#horse#honse
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Hello everyone.
This will be a rather long post about some things I wanna adress, including the fact that I plan to stop writing for Pressure, my OCS and other peoples Ocs in the near future.
Down under the cut is a list with my personal view, issues and some other things that lead to this decision. Maybe I miss a lot or don't go too deep into detail but the main points are covered.
But before I would like to add that this is MY opinion and MY choice. I let you think of it what you want but I also request that you respect my actions.
The first point is probably already clear from the start. Maybe some noticed, maybe not but I fell out of love with the fandom and the game itself. It became boring to play, the characters lost their charm and I can't come up with any creative scenarios anymore and the ones that already exists have lost their meaning. This may sound like the typical burnout thing and maybe it is but I'm more than certain that I wanna step away from the game and the fandom to focus on other things that bring me more joy. Maybe I start a multifandom writing blog or I just learn another hobby.
The second thing that is close connected to the first point is the fandom of the game, including the community on tumblr. A huge part are super sweet people with a very creative side. I would go as far and say that I brought some of those together with my projects and writing and it really makes me happy to see everyone interact so friendly on my blog.
But something that I haven't adressed is the fact that there are also plenty of hardcore fans, haters and weird people in my askbox or general in the fandom. It is to be expected when someone gains a massive amount of followers. But I do not accept the fact that people judge me based on what I write, who I write for, when I write and if I write at all. I delete those asks. Some telling me that my community project is awful, unserious and pulls other ocs into dirt. Other people are claiming that I don't write Sebastians Character right and oh wow seriously? I am not Sebastians creator, I do not have that ultimate deep lore and mindset to write a person 1:1. I get hate for my own stories and of course the fans could now come to my protetion and say „But Chea don't listen to the haters, you are amazing“ but it doesn't fix the thing in a slightest.
Also regards the people that praise me, some of them ( I won't name anyone) are counting to those weird people that force me. There were 2 or 3 people that acted all sweet in public only to try and take control of some story plots etc.
Also, I started writing when Pressure was first raising to be popular. There weren't many pressure writers out there. I am usually not someone that posts their work online, I don't comment on stuff and I rarely like something. But I really wanted to see more pressure fanfictions. Now we reached the point where there are more than plenty amazing writers and I can quit. There is no need for me to continue something that only makes me hate myself more because everytime I open my notes to write a story for pressure it feels like a mental torture. I leave the writing to the other blogs.
The status for now:
AASB gets discontinued.
Reverse AU gets discontinued.
Streamer AU will recieve 6 more chapters to end the story on a good term.
House of Entities will get continued for a small period of time, probably till I am done with the Streamer AU. There is no plan for the chapter count yet.
All requests in the inbox will get deleted and the inbox itself will be closed after Streamer AU finished.
Any other unnamed project will get discontinued as well.
All stories, one shots, series, drabbles and other works of mine are free to use. Other authors can pick them up, re-write them or just make an own story out of those. I drop all rights for the ideas and I won't demand any credits either. Maybe someone else would like to continue House of Entities as well.
My final word, which may sound repeating: I do not change my opinion, there won't be any motivation talks or sugar coated words that will change my stand in those things. I know some of you will try and comfort me but this is really not needed. I wish for you all to accept the outcome of this situation and move on more or less.
I apologize dearly because this is very sudden and I hope you all will understand.
-Chea
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every comma, every question mark - mark lee scenario
helloo🥺 it's been a while since I wrote a mark lee scenario, and this one was supposed to be out for his birthday but i only finished now, better than never😅😅hope you like it!
all song credits belong to NIKI btw!!! her songs are amazing and I'm a big fan. true story is when I first heard plot twist, all i can think of is how mark lee coded that song is so here we are🤍
and yes the ending may be a hint that there's a next for this (?) not sure tho hahaha anywayssss
For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.
and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
"You need to let him go, it's 5 in the morning. You've been here since yesterday!"
Your manager's loud voice resonated through the room, breaking you from your train of thoughts.
"You're distracting me, if you do more of that I will never get out of here" you told him, turning back to your laptop trying. The only other person in the room besides you and your manager is your co-producer. These two is your closest companions, like your two older brothers. You spend most of your time with them, and you being the introvert you don't really have that many friends in the industry.
"As your manager, I love this whole creative wave you're going through. But as a concerned citizen, I'm begging you. Go home. It's your birthday, why are you hauled in this dark room" your manager continues to rant but you pay him no mind
"Yo, you're just making this last longer than it already is. I'm just letting her find whatever it is she's even looking for" your producer say, he's been here with you since yesterday ready to help you out when you need it.
Those two guys know you take your craft very seriously, each and every song you put out is like your own child. Each and every word, every tune, every melody all came from your pretty little mind. They are both very in awe of the discography you have created throughout the years and you're still so young.
Your manager exits the room, muttering something about getting breakfast and coffee before closing the door to the studio.
"How about one of the songs in your vault? You have a lot of unreleased demos" your producer suggests
"I don't know if there's one fit for this"
"Girl you have tons, surely there's one for now. Let's have a hear"
The two of you go through unreleased tracks, some finished and some still on the works before landing on a few possible candidates
"What are we looking for anyways?"
"Not sure, but I promised my fans I was going to put something out just in time for my birthday. It's my birthday and here I am" you grumbled, then suddenly you come across a demo you've written a while back
"Uh this one's old" you say before clicking on it, the beat playing through the speakers in the room
Where have you been All of my life? It's all growin' dim, now That you've come to light And who could've known, who would've thought Between the wishbones and dot-dot-dots There was always gonna be you and I
"When did you write that?" he asks
Just like that, the exact memory of when and where you first wrote that verse came flooding in your head.
"Oh"
"Oh what?"
"I feel like this is the one but I don't know if I can release this" you say
"What do you mean? Why?"
"I wrote this like some time a few years back... about a guy.. I had a crush on"
He chuckles at your reasoning, "So? All songs are inspired by something. You gotta start somewhere"
"Yea but what will I say when people ask what's the story behind it? I'm suppose to perform this on my birthday event this month"
"Then say it, what's the worst that could happen?"
Turns out a lot of things could happen. On the day of your birthday event where you're going to release your new song, your manager informed you a few artists are also present to watch you.
"What?? Why???"
"Cause they like you?" your manager asks back
"Who is it?" you ask but then the prod team calls for you
"Hey Y/N, we need you backstage now"
You get on stage, go on with your show and a short interview. The host surprises you with a cake from your fans and the crowd sings you happy birthday.
"I know it's my birthday but I have a gift for you also" the crowd cheers
"So I wrote a song, I actually wrote it a while back. It's about those unexpected moments that happen in my all to normal life. To be honest with you guys, I've always liked plot twists. The good kind" you add, making the crowd laugh
"Yea and uh sometimes there's someone who comes in your life who you didn't expect and suddenly the sky is bluer or the sun shines just a tad brighter" you blush a bit while trying to explain the song
"Anyways here's the new song, I hope you like it. It's called Plot Twist"
Look what we got A thickening plot Just when I started getting used to The thought Of closing the book There you were, in every nook Of every word, every page And now I wanna stay and wait, 'cause Met every comma, every question mark Bored of how all of the chapters start But you feel like a brand new arc That I never knew, oh I'd like to think I know a thing or two Like every day the sky's a different blue And then along came you, oh
The crowd turns their flash on, it's like a sea of stars in front of you. This made you smile while singing the words
Where have you been All of my life? It's all growin' dim, now That you've come to light And who could've known, who would've thought Between the wishbones and dot-dot-dots There was always gonna be you and I
You get to the last part of the song, enjoying watching the crowd have fun. Unbeknownst to you, the one who inspired this song was in the crowd bopping his head as he listens to your melodic voice.
Who could've imagined? Who could've imagined you? Who could've imagined? Who could've imagined you?
You finish the song and say your final ment before bidding goodbye to everyone.
Your team welcomes you backstage. congratulating you on another successful event. You were busy talking with the band when your manager pulls you on the side, "There's a few people here who wanted to greet you"
"Huh? Oh okay" you follow behind him down the halls.
When you get there the first person you saw was Haechan, a member of a group you're a fan of.
Your first thought was, what is he doing here
The second being, if he's here then surely his member is also here and you already have a hunch on who it might be
"Y/N, you already know Haechan and Mark. They came to watch tonight" your manager say
"Uh yea, oh sorry I wasn't expecting this. I'm a big fan" you tell them, bowing your head down as a sign of respecting and greeting. The two boys doing the same
"Me too, Love your songs" Haechan says, then adds a greeting at the end
"Happy birthday, we uh wanted to come and see you play live since we're on a break. Usually our schedules clash so we can't go to your shows" Mark says
Not believing this is actually happening, you give yourself a pinch on the back. It hurt.
"Me too, I mean I'm a fan too and uh thanks for coming"
"It's Mark hyung's birthday too so this was my gift to him" Haechan jokes, earning a jab on the side from Mark
"I invited him" Mark clarifies, you just laugh at that.
"You guys want some snacks? Refreshments? Let's go to the lounge room" your manager leads the three of you to the lounge area. The two guys, Haaechan and your manager, have a conversation between them. Turns out they're neighbors and Haechan's manager are friends with yours.
"I uh like your new song" Mark clears his throat as he tells you this
"Thanks, it's been a while since I wrote that actually" you mumble, feeling shy all of sudden. You definitely did not expect Mark of all people to be here tonight.
The very person who inspired you to write the song.
"I love the way you write your songs. There's always a story to uncover, big fan of your word plays" he tells you with a smiles you know will haunt your dreams for nights to come and until you make another song about him again.
"One of the few songs I've written that isn't about a heartbreak. And this is from my own point of view, usually I write them imagining the scenario in my head"
"What a lucky guy" he says
You chuckle, looking down at your shoes "He's great, but that song was a confession I'd probably never tell him"
"How come? It's a great song, he should feel honored"
You smile at that, finding the situation all too unreal.
"If he does figure it out, then I'll take my chance"
For a moment you gather up the courage to look him in the eye as if confessing the words without saying it. Like you wanted him to know it's about him but you're not sure if you can ever admit that to him.
Maybe not now. Maybe some other time, you do after all think he's the biggest plot twist of your story.
Then he's looking back at you, a glint in his eyes you wanted to know more about before he smiles at you again. His voice already writing the words in your head, ready for the melody and for your creative genius. He tells you,
"He'd be a fool not to take a chance with you"
#fic#fanfic#nct dream fanfic#nct#nct imagine#nct scenario#nct fluff#nct 127#nct dream#nct au#nct oneshot#mark lee#nct mark#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenario#mark lee imagine#mark lee au
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A user in one of my posts went on a small ramble about how if the OG show was aired now it would have been in the same vein as Amphibia/TOH with it having an emotional and compelling story with bits of comedy in there, and I agree so heavily?? Like truly back in the 2000s we had shown more focus on the comedy/Gag aspect of cartoons, which makes sense since their target audiences were kids of all ages, and at the time, cartoons were seen as just "kids media". It didn't need to be compelling or have a heavy emotional dialogue to it, it just needed to have some slapstick comedy, make a bunch of kids laugh, and one on their way. While today's shows have been so heavily focused on the actual character aspect, the attachment, and the environment (for good reason), it's why the sequel is so good. Yes, it's comedic but we also see so much more of why Hazel is the way she is outside of the comedy, and we see Cosmo and Wanda being proper godparents rather than pseudo-adopted parents to Timmy.
If the show had been made and created today, it would have ended up totally different. What makes Timmy a fascinating main character is the cause of how many flaws he has, and if he stuck to his character development we could really see him actually becoming happier. It's also heavily dependent on how they write Timmy's parents. Will they still write them as neglectful but actually serious, and take the whole fairy godparents adopting Timmy seriously? Showing how family is chosen and how even if you have shitty parents one day you'll find people? Or would they go the hazel route and show them still loving but distant? Im trying to think of the core values of the OG show and tbh one of them is just Timmy and his godparents being closer than his actual parents, and idk how well that would fly in a kid's show if taken seriously.
But I think it would be worth it. There could also be a bittersweet lesson about growing up, or something about Timmy still seeing his Godparents after everything, or hell him becoming a fairy could work out. Im so glad we have Hazel and I think the new show has some of the best writing compared to the OG, especially with Hazel and Dev, I just also think about how Timmy had the misfortune of having horrible writers. He was run dry and the series heavily overstayed its welcome, but if it didn't, if it had actual serious writing, if it was something more analyzing the magic system, and family dynamics, if it was just like the new show, I really think Timmy would have been done amazing, and got the proper ending he deserved :]
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$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.
How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.
Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")
The silence is palpable.
"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"
Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.
So, you keep talking.
"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."
There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.
Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.
"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."
If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.
"Are you really?"
"… Yes."
A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.
"I seriously am."
"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."
The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.
You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.
"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."
The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.
"Then what did you learn?"
Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.
"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"
"Try again."
"Uh…"
"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"
The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.
"I'm, I'm sorry!"
"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"
You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."
"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."
"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."
The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.
Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.
A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.
Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"
"Partner?"
"Yeah, partners."
You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.
Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.
The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.
Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.
Then he snarls.
Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.
You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.
And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.
You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.
Someone wails behind him.
You scream.
Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.
Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.
It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.
"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"
Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.
"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."
Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.
But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."
And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.
You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.
"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.
So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."
Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.
"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."
"Don't call me that!"
It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.
"Know your place."
"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"
" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."
"I didn't!"
"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."
Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.
Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.
Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.
Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.
Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?
The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.
But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."
For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.
"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."
"I almost lost you."
"But you didn't."
"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."
Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.
"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."
He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."
"Let me help."
You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.
That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.
Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.
"I probably should've just showered."
You shrug. "You still could."
"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."
"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."
Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.
"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."
"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.
"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."
You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?
"We still need to chat. You promised."
His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."
Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.
"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"
Don't let me down.
It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.
"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."
Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.
When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.
"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."
You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.
He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"
"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."
"Y-you know about the bet?"
Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.
"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."
"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.
His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.
"Known for a while, to be honest."
"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"
"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."
"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"
"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."
"Against my will, too much…"
"Which means I'm right."
"… I guess you do make a fair point."
"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."
Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."
"Like what?"
"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."
"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."
Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.
"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."
Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.
Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"
"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."
"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.
Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."
"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."
"Well, you won't do it, will you?"
"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.
"But I do."
"Yeah? Prove it!"
Ooh, a challenge.
And one more step closer.
"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."
Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.
"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"
"But…?"
The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.
"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."
Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.
He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.
Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.
Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.
"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."
Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."
And that was that.
With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.
The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.
Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.
"You're sure about this?"
"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."
You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.
Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.
The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.
Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.
"You look tired, you doing okay?"
"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."
Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"
He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"
"I'll feel better at the border."
Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."
Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.
"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."
"That's true, it would be good for him to do."
"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."
"He's gonna give us both a scolding."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.
Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.
The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.
Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.
But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.
"Greetings, weary travelers."
"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.
The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."
It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.
Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.
It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.
"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.
"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."
After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."
"Not true!"
He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.
"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."
"It's not like that."
"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."
"Boring."
"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"
"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."
He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."
"Sounds cozy."
"I swear —"
You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."
"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."
"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."
"Now, now… violence is never the answer."
"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"
If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.
Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.
"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"
"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."
"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."
"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."
You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.
"So, he already told you what happened."
"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"
"But…" You repeat warily.
Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.
Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."
There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.
Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.
You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.
Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.
You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.
And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.
Again.
"Where is he?"
"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"
"Sure."
"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."
Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"
And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.
He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.
"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."
"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.
The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.
Why was he acting like this?
Did he regret everything that happened between you?
Was something wrong?
Would he shut himself away from you?
Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.
So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.
"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"
A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."
"Open the door."
Silence.
"Please."
The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"
You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.
"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"
Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"
A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.
Feathers. Everywhere.
Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.
You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.
"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"
It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.
He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.
So that's how they hide and reappear.
"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.
Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.
Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.
Desire.
An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.
"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."
"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"
"Get out."
"Seok —"
"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."
"My own good?"
"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."
Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"
"I haven't —"
"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."
You promised.
He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.
"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."
Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"
"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."
"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.
"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."
"Is it a disease?"
"Wish it was that simple."
"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."
"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."
You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."
"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"
"… Tesla."
A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.
Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."
"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"
He holds his head. "… Yes."
"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"
Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.
"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"
"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."
"Better than leafy, I suppose."
"Though you are quite… feathery."
Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.
"You still keep that old thing around?"
He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."
"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."
"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"
"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."
"… Why?"
You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.
He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.
If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.
Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.
"Conscious consent and reciprocation."
Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"
"No."
It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.
"What? Wh-why?"
"Don't get me wrong, it's —"
"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"
He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"
"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"
"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."
"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."
"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"
"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."
"It's —"
"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"
Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.
Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"
He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.
"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."
"… You said you loved him."
"When?"
"… To Cheol. After you first met him."
"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"
He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."
"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."
Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."
"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."
It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.
"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."
You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"
"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."
"Yours?"
"Mine."
"Sucker."
A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.
"What?"
"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"
"… Was not."
"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"
He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"
"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."
"And what's on the table?"
"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."
"That so?"
"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."
Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."
"Winner takes all?"
"Mayfly, I've always been yours."
"Sap," you laugh again.
A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.
The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.
When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.
You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"
"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.
You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.
"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"
"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."
"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."
Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.
Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.
"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.
"Because you're a vision to behold."
"Says the one who looks like an angel."
You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.
"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."
Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.
"Beautiful," he murmurs.
The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.
"May I?"
"Of course."
Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.
Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.
"Are you alright?"
"Mhm… yes."
He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.
Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.
"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."
By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.
"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."
He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.
You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.
So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.
His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.
"Let me take care of you too."
"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"
"That's the least of my concerns right now."
"I can still…"
"Later. First, I want to help you."
Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."
"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."
The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.
"May I?"
You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."
Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.
You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.
He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.
And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.
"You don't have to —"
He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.
"Oh, mayfly."
A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.
"Ah, 'm sorry!"
While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.
Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.
Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.
You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.
His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.
Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"
"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"
Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.
"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.
But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.
"Will it fit?"
"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."
"I trust you."
"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."
Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.
Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"
"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."
Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.
"Mine."
Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.
"Yours."
You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.
Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.
Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.
"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.
"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."
Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.
Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.
Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.
His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.
"Hey, you."
"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."
Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.
"Did that help?"
"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.
You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.
"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.
"What are you —"
You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.
"But not of this," he rasps.
Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.
"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"
He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.
Delicious.
Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.
Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.
"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"
Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.
"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."
The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.
"What are you three doing in here?"
Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.
"We're afraid to venture out of here."
Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."
"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"
"Pay up for what?"
"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."
"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."
Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"
Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"
Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."
"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."
"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."
Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"
"Should be our next bettin' round."
"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."
Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"
"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."
Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"
"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."
Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."
"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."
"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."
Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.
A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.
"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.
"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."
"Very well. Shall we go now?"
Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.
A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.
She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.
"Chan."
Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.
"Yes, Saintess?"
"Do you regret it?"
"No. Never."
"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."
Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.
He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.
"Do you think this will work?"
Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.
"Have you ever played chess before?"
"No, what is it?"
"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."
Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."
Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."
Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.
"What's that one?"
"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."
Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."
"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."
"To the glory of the Black King's rise."
"And to the glory of our so-called queen."
Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…
He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."
onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©
#ez.creates#svthub#svt.smut#dokyeom smut#dk smut#seokmin smut#lee seokmin smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#kpop smut#trigun au#svt au#seventeen au
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I'm so irritated by the entire Ian and Mickey get an apartment storyline because it's just so inaccurate on like every count. I know this is fiction and also the show's been over for ages but still. The last few series had such terrible writing and made no sense.
The map location that Ian looks at when they first find the apartment is like in the UIC/medical district area, almost in the loop. But also like. There are not a lot of apartments in Chicago with pools. You want a pool in your apartment complex, you're gonna be paying a lot more than $900 for a 1 bed 1 bath apartment. I mean, you're gonna be paying more than $900 period in that area. Plus like their income is better but not stable-stable from the security gig (and isn't it mostly under the table?) so I seriously doubt landlords there would even consider them.
(Not to mention the whole bullshit about Ian signing the lease without talking to Mickey about it first. (And Mickey would have to also sign the lease before it went into effect, unless everything is in Ian's name? So Mickey could have just said no.) Like that's such shitty behavior in terms of relationship stuff.)
But anyway, most of the actual west side is barely better off than the south side in terms of poverty. If they'd moved to the north side area or even north west it would have made more sense to have all the drama about bougie apartments and quiet and blah blah blah. (But then they absolutely would not be able to afford rent.)
My headcanon is that they move to the Hermosa/Austin/West Humboldt-ish area because they can actually afford it, and Mickey gets a mechanic job and Ian goes back to school at Malcolm X to get some medical-based associates degree or something that will let him do some sort of helping people job. Mickey actually learned Spanish while he was in Mexico (because he's not stupid and because how else was he going to get respect in the cartel) and ends up making friends with the old Puerto Rican guys that hang out in his neighborhood. They have an apartment that's not amazing but it's better than either of the falling apart houses they grew up in. They actually communicate and talk to each other and are friends and shit like that.
I know it's nitpicky as shit and the Shameless writers gave up realism and emotional interest for bullshit comedy in like series 7 or whatever but it's just so frustrating that not a single part of that storyline made sense or was at all interesting or compelling.
#shameless#shameless us#squash gets nitpicky about a show that ended like 4 years ago and ended shittily in the first place#abundant use of parentheses in this post i'm so sorry
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📚 10 f1 fics i've loved lately 🏎️
been thinking a lot about how to organise fic recs into some sort of sensible post, 'cus there are so many (great!) pairings and (delicious!) driver combinations, not to mention so many varying styles of fic and SUPER TALENTED WRITERS!!111!!
just gonna list a bunch in no particular order, with accompanying pics, so you can get a sense of the vibes.
'cus what is f1 rpf but all about the ✨ vibes?! 🏁
p.s. people are in this community making amazing stuff for freeee!! if you liked these please leave a kudos or a comment, it makes a writer's day 🫡
let's gooooo--
objects in the mirror by linearity (@drivestraight) charles/max. 87k words (series), rated t then e
listen. LISTEN! charles to rbr is one of the best premises ever and i will read it in like a thousand iterations. but this fic. this fic series in particular cleared my skin, made me want to cut my hair into a bob out of sheer emotion. i would be remiss not to start with this one because its impact on my f1 rpf trajectory should be studied by science. you know when a story just jumps off the page and it's so real that it becomes your canon. a kind of meteoric inevitability. plus, i almost never cry at fics. but by the time the third act of this one hit, i just went -- damn, am i rly about to tear up at a f1 rpf fanfiction rn? (yes.)
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sawtooth by nottonyharrison (@nottonyharrison) charles/max. 40k words, rated e
max as a f1 engineer? for CARLOS at FERRARI? sign me the fuckkk up. first off, awesome premise. there's always going to be something so heartwrenching about "what ifs", especially in any universe where max isn't a racer. despite the change of circumstances, just... the sheer poetry of two characters who just inexplicably find their way to each other in any universe... 🤧 also this story nails racing scenes in a way that's so visceral, i feel like a fly on the damn halo with them. and, aside from the gourmet lestappen, carlos's whole thing in this fic is joyous! spicy! he's so unapologetic and vaguely annoying! hilarious! + the swimming pool scene lives rent-free in my head.
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salt skin by peachbellini (@strawberry-daiquiris) oscar/lando. 12k words, rated e
this fic is magic. literally and figuratively. (MERMAID LANDO???? MERMAID LANDO.) the kind of story that makes you gasp and melt a little bit. and made me want to throw my phone at the writer, 'cause it's really that good. the yearning, the metaphor for all that's monstrous, a boy who is lost (and the boy who he finds, is equally so). this is just beautifully written and a little quirky and so well executed. i think i put it in my bookmarks as "what if lando was a mermaid and it was filmed by a24" or something. pearl of a story.
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hockey!! shrimp colors :) by leafmeal0ne (@ocontraire) oscar/lando. 13k words, rated t
leaf meal one. i have only known you a week but if anything were to happen to you i would wreck everyone in the room including myself. in all seriousness, anything that leaf writes is brilliant. they're one of these writers who could do a throwaway line on the label of a ketchup bottle and i will probably scream about it. the precision, the way they switch up sentence structures, the freaking darcy-level regency yearning transposed onto a contemporary sports setting. i'd rec all of leaf's sports AUs and i'll probably talk about more in a future fic rec post. BUT. the hockeyyy one my GOD. the barely restrained violence, their mutual desire, the theme of finding your place... *wails uncontrollably*
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you almost unearthly thing by anonymous max/daniel, 3.7k words, rated g
max is a governess(govern..lad?) and daniel is the mystery man at the manor. this was a response to a request i made in the kinkmeme! (if you haven't read those fics go check 'em out, there are so many great ones, and not necessarily all rated e). this is a criminally underrated little story that has my favourite repressed feelings + people dancing around each other + gothic vibes + "what the hell is wrong with y'all in this tale" combo that i really adore. it's really well written and captures the atmosphere so well.
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the so-called narrative by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) oscar/carlos, 10k words, rated e
i'm once again asking why there are only 7 carlos/oscar works in the tag. I'M ONCE AGAIN ASKING-- *is sedated*. *jolts awake* okay but for real this is a great story. hot, fake-friendship-to-situationship which so happens is one of my favourite places to be. also hello miscommunication/they're so weird about it/they both want each other but can't express themselves for shit/insane racer boys energy.
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and silver, and samarium by pink_mink (@on-softs) george/toto, 5.2k words, rated e
i profess i am not usually the biggest fan of A/B/O (altho!! this fandom has made me go BUT ACTUALLY HM at least a few times). and this fic freaking nails it, along with the twisted power dynamics between TPs and drivers, as seen through the lens of omegaverse. this story rattles around my head like a stubborn ghoul just from the style and prose and sheer audacity alone. george kneeling at toto's knees while he's working..... ohhhhhhhhh i was this close to calling my lawyers.
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algorithm by anney (@badboy-george) charles/max, 16k words, rated e
i LOVE, LOOOOVE a sci fi concept alright. love that shit, will inhale it like moon dust with zero regrets. and what a fantastic one this one is!! the premise is that the FIA can now statistically show the compatibility of drivers on the grid and it's very pacific rim-y drift compatible, mixed with the surreal vibes of eternal sunshine or HER or some such. it should be outrageous, but it really works. that's the beauty of a great fic right there.
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trajectory of trojan asteroids by redpaint (@redpaint) nico/lewis, 3.3k words, rated g
also one of the fics i first read when i hopped on board the f1 rpf train. the pain and poignancy just gets worse the more i learn about brocedes. you know when you're like "there's no way this was reallll" and then you're like "fuck, it was so real". then you get a fic like this that just encapsulates all that rage and loss and grief and upset, set against the starry vista of endless space. *clutches tablecloth* god.
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p.s please bear in mind that these recs are entirely subjective! i enjoy loads of f1 stories but these are the ones that have especially stuck with me for some inexplicable reason.
p.p.s if your fic is on here and you want it taken off for whatever reason, i'm happy to, no questions asked 💛
BYE for now / until part 2. (i also love talking to ppl about fics so pls feel free to send an ask or hit me up in DMs or whatever.)
xoxo, -- wizz
#f1 fic rec#f1 fanfiction#lestappen#landoscar#maxiel#groto#brocedes#f1 rpf fic#i don't know that carlos/oscar have a ship name yet?#sainztri?#Carloscar#f1 rpf#wiz.recs#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#did i spend a full hour at work doing this last week instead of my actual work?#yes -- very yes
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We’re all familiar with the Xander-Ace arm wrestling scene. A lot of people cite it as one of their favorite funny moments from the series. And yeah, it is pretty funny when you don’t think about it too much.
The joke is pretty much, “Haha, Ace is such a wimp! He’s totally freaking out about a minor injury like it’s a really big deal!”
I don’t know if it was just me, but I sort of had this internal notion that Ace must’ve mentioned that his hand really hurt or something, and the joke was that he was wimp because it was such a minor injury, and it probably didn’t hurt at all.
But, uh. He never says anything about his hand hurting. Here are the lines he says (not all of which are featured in a text box, since Teruko and Xander are talking over him):
“AAAAAHHHHHH MY HAANNNDDDD!!!!”
*falls on the ground, gets up, screams again*
“OH GOD! You’re gonna put me down like a horse with a broken leg!!!”
“I’d rather die than not be able to eat cereal with my hand!!!”
“I’M NEVER GONNA BE ABLE TO RACE AGAIN!!!!”
Listening to all of the voice lines again, it seems less like Ace is panicking because his hand is hurting, and more like he's panicking because of what may happen to him if his hand is indeed badly injured. So it's less so about the injury itself, and more about what may happen because of it.
He first, of course, panics over Xander being a threat. That's completely expected, since making Xander angry just broke a table and assumedly hurt him in some way or another.
The cereal line is a bit confusing, especially considering his secret. A while back I came up with an out-there theory that he said that in order to try and deflect any suspicion about his secret, since an eating disorder can weaken your bones and if he got hurt too easily, people might begin to suspect something. So he rather clumsily brought up the subject of how he did in fact eat food. If we consider the fact that he's lying here, then him saying he'd rather die than do something makes a lot more sense, since we know he doesn't mean that at all. But in hindsight I may have been overthinking it...Still, I can't think of a better explanation, other than dismissing it altogether as a throwaway joke that didn't have much thought put into it.
The last line is what really makes this interesting. Ace hates his talent and anything to do with it. And yet one of the things he's panicking about the most is how he may not be able to race after sustaining an injury. And I think that this moment probably gives us our earliest insight into just how far Ace will go in order to race. In his first FTE with Teruko, he claims he doesn't do much work at all for his talent, until his performance anxiety forces him to. By saying that, it makes it sound like his talent doesn't completely dominate his life.
But this scene, in the same exact episode of his FTE, quickly proves to the viewer just how desperate Ace is to continue his talent, to the point where his own well-being becomes less important than it. Ace's extreme reaction to being injured isn't because he's a wimp that can't deal with pain, it's because he's spiraling about what this could mean for his career and, therefore, his status as a failure. "What if this injury prevents me from racing?" is the question that comes first, causing him to panic instead of being able to focus on how bad the injury actually is.
...I guess the thing that made me want to write about this scene is just how...Smart it is. It does so much at once. On a first viewing, it's really funny, and it still is on other viewings. Yet in hindsight, it's easier to notice just how distressed Ace is, and that no one is taking that seriously. No one ever takes his fears seriously, and in the end his fears drove him to murder, proving how important they really were. Even if his worries seem silly from an outsider's perspective, they're very real to him. And that's something that no one in-universe could realize until it was too late. This scene does an amazing job summarizing just how the cast's attitude towards Ace helped push him to becoming a culprit.
...Or maybe I'm taking the silly arm-wrestling scene too seriously, haha.
#this has been in my drafts forever but maybe now it can finally see the light of day...#even if its a little melodramatic and worded clumsily i still agree with my points here i think#but this doesn't mean i think ace shouldn't be blamed at all for murdering someone#just that there were factors outside of just himself and the killing game concept that pushed him to take action like he did#after all you have to push someone who's all bark no bite pretty far in order for them to do something as drastic as what he did right?#the whole cast needs to learn to treat each other better is basically what im saying haha#and also drdtdev is an amazing writer they turned their comedic relief into an actual threat SO WELL#danganronpa despair time#drdt#drdt spoilers#ace markey#cw ed
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