#Should I give this AU a name so people can tag it and talk about it?
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MORE ON MY STUPID GHOST TRICK AU SEQUEL
This is for you @boatoverbogs
I'll just get the twist out of the way. Trent is meant to be a part of Commander Sith's assassins. Now on Sissel being a mentor, it was a thought that I will go through on but am still figuring out, but I was seeing him basically explaining to Trent what *he* can do. (as in what Sissel can do) after all Trent doesn't know about the time traveling yet, because he saved Yomiel before he even died. I have a fucking google doc on this stupid story now I can't believe it. Maybe someday I'll have the courage to make this a full-on fanfic or something but that day ain't today. Anyways, back to what I have, there's another character named Lazzie who knows Trent because he saved her, and then she allowed him to crash on her couch. They also started to work together at a silly little ramen shop I came up with that's near the Chicken Kitchen. OH RIGHT THE 8BALL! I still haven't figured him out but like- I think I might turn him into a villain to contrast Ray. Like he starts out as similar to Ray but then BOOM! near the end twist time he's bad guy! or something. Maybe I might actually make him Sissel as another Ray thing happens. My idea is that the whole new timeline is on thin ice. If Yomiel dies everything falls apart. At least that's how I see it. His death is a domino effect that ruins everything, so honestly Trent being there was the only thing keeping it from happening. Maybe that's on purpose, maybe he was lead there by the 8ball to die there to make sure yomiel doesn't die? WHO FUCKING KNOWS? NOT I AND I'M THE WRITER!
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astonmartinii · 2 months ago
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copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
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liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood 🫡
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
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liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
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f1
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liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
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liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: 🤨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
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melancholyhigh · 10 months ago
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CRUSH CULTURE.
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ft. college au!leon x reader
synopsis. you fuck up at being leon’s wingman, ruining his chances of getting a valentine’s day fuck. he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on you.
tags. 2.8k words. smut. mean!leon, lowk angsty, reader is kinda pathetic, angry fuck, dry humping, cunnilingus, dom!leon, rough sex, unprotected p in v, degradation, name calling (bitch, whore etc.), happy ending (?).
note. i’m sorry for being so inactive and rarely being online. school sucks so bad. i hope you guys can accept this as a formal apology. (let’s ignore that this is 2 days late.)
masterlist. reblogs & comments are highly welcomed :3
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You aren’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. You're sick of seeing everyone fall in love, watching lovers exchange cheesy gifts and bashful smiles. You’re sick of people pretending they love each other more than they actually do. No, you’re sick of being left out.
You were a hopeless romantic, chasing love only for it to fall flat. You were obsessed with finding your other half, the person who would cherish you as much as you treasured them. You didn’t know if you loved love or just the idea of it, but it wouldn’t matter.
You’re only hopeless as you help the man you liked hook up with someone at a shitty college party.
It’s pathetic, truly, chatting up some sorority girls and putting a good name out for Leon while he stood beside you. You didn’t get why he couldn’t do it himself. He was handsome, albeit a bit awkward, but so were you. It’s why you two got along anyway. Leon was watching as you tried to get the drunk girl’s attention on him. Throughout the night, your wingman skills had only failed. They either did not pay attention to you or paid too much attention to you.
You were sick of it. You would have preferred staying in your dorm room and rewatching one of your favourite rom-coms. But you were only a fool, trying to help your friend out. It hurt more being there with him as he lamely tried to pick up girls in front of you. You didn’t know what was more pathetic, his terrible jokes or the state you were, absolutely heartbroken that he wouldn’t give you the time of day he’d give to random girls.
Maybe it’s faith’s cruel way of commentating on your desire for love by making you play cupid for the only person you seem to care about more than yourself.
You and Leon had something special, or you had hoped so. You met in your first year of college. You were both fucking awkward that you had to initiate the first conversation. Majoring in similar subjects, you both had gotten along well. You would even say you were best friends, but you knew deep down you always wanted more.
Ever since you first met, you found him enthralling. It only got worse as you got closer. Learning more about him seemed to solidify your pining for him. You were the only person he talked to, and vice versa. You confided in each other, maybe more than what close friends should, so it was only inevitable that he would share with you that he wanted to lose his virginity.
You had looked at him perplexed. Leon was pretty attractive, and maybe you were biased, but how had no one fucked him? You’ve seen the way girls look at him, blushing when he even glances at them for a second.
That is when Leon told you he planned on trying to hook up with some girl at the party, and he wanted your help because he knew he would fuck up somehow. You had humoured him. Nothing more romantic than taking a random girl home on Valentine’s Day and fucking her brains out.
–-
“It’s not that serious, Leon,” you groaned for the umpteenth time. You were both walking back to his apartment after unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with some sorority girl. He was grumbling behind you, pissed and sexually frustrated.
“It was your fault.” You roll your eyes at his statement. When you reach the door of his flat, you observe as he clumsily takes his keys out, trying to open the door. He finally manages to open the door, and you enter, taking your shoes off before settling on his couch.
You watch him beyond amused at his predicament as he paces back and forth in front of you.
“Why did you have to mention that? They were so into me before you fucked it up,” he huffs, stilling his movement to glare at you.
“C’mon, Leon. I’m sure they couldn’t give a fuck that you’re a nerd,” you said, repeating the same word you had let slip when you were praising your beloved best friend. You peered back up at him, acting casual as if his icy gaze didn’t have your heart beating wildly against your chest. You rarely saw him angry, and when he was, he never directed it to you.
“You ruined my chances at finally getting laid. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. You’re the only person I have.” He’s frustrated with you for fucking up whatever chance he finally had at popping his cherry. Even though logically it’s not your fault nor your duty to get his dick wet, he didn’t want to take responsibility right now.
“I think you’re overreacting,” you sighed, standing up and moving towards him. You try to put a comforting hand on Leon’s shoulder, and he shrugs your touch off him. You don’t take it to heart. He’s a few inches taller than you, head slightly tilted as he looks down at you.
“Yeah? Well, now I have no one to fuck tonight.”
“I can change that,” you quip, and you instantly freeze at your own statement. You part your lips lightly in shock as you observe Leon’s reaction. It was a freudian slip, and it seemed to be happening more often than you’d like.
He continues looking down at you with furrowed brows as he tries to comprehend what you said. He thinks this might affect your friendship if you even mean what you said. He was horny, being teased all night by pretty girls in skimpy dresses, only to be denied, fucking furious too.
“Really?” He responds, somehow stepping closer to you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you try to back up, only to be pushed against the wall by him. His stare is still cold, piercing through you. He’s still pissed at you.
“Are you still mad?” You mumbled, your back flat against the wall of his living room. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to say it. Maybe you found his mean side more attractive than you’d like to admit. It was so rare to see him like this — a usually composed man so broken.
“Yes, I’m still fucking angry. Do you want me or not?” He seethes. You squeeze your thighs together at the tone he uses. You were so pathetic, getting wet at him berating you, but any attention was good attention.
He notices your reaction, grinning to himself. “You backing down?”
You shake your head no in response.
“Beg for it then. Beg for me to fuck you. That’s what you want, right?” He says, mocking you. It’s as if he knows how deep your desire burns for him, how badly you’d do anything for him if it meant he noticed you. His hands grasp your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks together as he forces your head back against the wall so you look up at him.
“Please, Leon. Fuck me. ‘M all yours.” You plead through pursed lips. Your eyes are glossy, and he’s laughing at your desperate nature. He would have never expected his best friend to be a whiny mess within his grasp.
He lets go of your face before leaning down, capturing your lips into his for a needy kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, and a surprised gasp escapes you. Teeth clashing, you’re whimpering desperately against his lips as you entangle your fingers into his soft golden locks. His hands trail down to your hips, gripping them as he moves his body against yours.
You let out a soft moan, and he pulled apart from the passionate kiss. Both your lips are swollen and covered with your shared saliva. He continues to grope your body eagerly as he pushes you further into the wall. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear you.”
Biting your lip, you try not to let any moans slip free while he toys with your sensitive body through your clothes. He hooks one of your legs over his hip while he explores your body. He grinds his hardening cock against your crotch, and the action does little to quell the ache inside you.
Your back arches off the wall, your head tipping back as you try to buck your hips to his. Digging your nails into his shirt, he hisses slightly, but your movements don’t get past him.
“So fucking desperate,” he moans loudly.
He continues to rock his clothed erection against your cunt. The rough fabric of your pants provides enough friction through your damp underwear to your clit. Your hand clamps around your mouth shut, suppressing your whines as you near your climax.
Leon’s eyes close while he groans lowly at the pleasure coursing through him as he ruts against you. He wants so badly to feel your dripping cunt against his throbbing length. Just as you’re about to finish, he pulls away, panting, and the feeling in your core dissipates.
“I want to fuck you properly.” You’re unsure if he knew what he had just done, but with the smug look he’s giving you, you’re positive it’s on purpose.
You push yourself off the wall of his living room, and with trembling legs, you follow him to his bedroom. You were familiar with the area and used to the messy appearance while you two were either doing work or binging shows. But it’s different now, he’s going to fuck you dumb in it.
You both begin to rid yourself of your clothes once you’re inside. You’re fully nude, lying flat on Leon’s mattress, and your skin feels tacky with sweat as it clings to his soft sheets. Leon is only in his boxers, precum staining the fabric, as his strong palms spread your bent legs apart to admire your bare pussy.
You realise that this is most likely his first time seeing one other than in porn videos he jerks himself off to. He marvels at how wet you are, your folds glistening with your slick. Leaning down, he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you.
His tongue teases your entrance before slowly moving to your clit. He alternates between sucking on your sensitive nub and lapping at it slowly. He looks like he’s concentrated as he focuses on pleasing your cunt, his brows furrowed and his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.
You can’t help the moans and sighs that slip past your lips while he eats you out. The pleasure is nearly dizzying as you grip the sheets. Your hips are bucking against his tongue, and Leon groans as you use his face. He’s not so subtly grinding against the sheets, his cock painfully hard as he fails to relieve the sensation.
Tentatively, he slurps at you, drinking in your essence. The wet, sloppy noises your cunt makes are embarrassing, but he’s obsessed with it and your taste. It’s addictive. He sucks at your clit roughly, adoring the reaction you give him. Your tummy clenches as he pays attention to your throbbing bud. Your sounds are getting more frequent as your orgasm quickly approaches you.
When you finally come undone, your thighs are quivering around his head as he revels in your release. He parts from your cunt, his lips coated in your cum like lip gloss as he licks them clean. Trying to collect yourself, your chest heaves as you pant heavily.
Leon slips his boxers down, revealing his hard-on. His cock was flushed red and dripping with precum as he stroked it. It was average in length but quite thick and prettier than you had imagined. But you shouldn’t act surprised.
You let out a whimper when he slid the tip of his cock through your folds stained with your cum and his saliva. Your pussy was overstimulated, spasming as he teased your entrance with his head.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he groans, gripping your hip to steady himself. The heat of your cunt was welcoming as it tried to suck him inside you. His tip touches your overly sensitive clit. He was quickly losing his composure, desperate to fuck you open.
You both moan simultaneously when he fully enters his length inside of you. Your walls were sucking his cock deeping into you, filling you up to the brim with nothing but him.
You had not imagined your first time with Leon like this. You daydreamed of him taking you out on a cute date before undressing you and then fucking you slowly on a bed littered with rose petals. You did not anticipate that he’d split you open on his cock as a last resort taking his sexual frustration out on you. You can’t complain with how good he’s fucking you, even if it’s out of spite.
He begins thrusting his cock in and out of tight pussy, groaning. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks the shape into you. You sometimes forget how well-built he is, usually concealed by his clothes, sweat dripping down his muscular frame.
“Your cock feels so fuckin’ good, Leon,” you gasped out loud, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you out of his fat cock.
“This was your plan, huh? You wanted me to fuck you, whore.” He says as he punctuates each word with a thrust.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock presses against you deliciously. You did want him all to yourself, but you wouldn’t go as far as to sabotage him. You’re unable to answer him, too drunk on his cock bullying into that one spot inside of you.
“Answer me, bitch.” He huffs, gripping your jaw and positioning your face to his. He looks into your eyes only to note how they can barely stay open. His hips stutter at your fucked out expression. He was so fucking close, his abs flexing, only holding out so you can cum first.
“Y- Yeah, Leon. Want to you all for myself,” you stammer incoherently, tears collecting at your waterline as he pounds into your oversensitive cunt. Your walls grip around his cock sporadically as you near your climax.
“You like me too, then?” he mocks through clenched teeth. Your pussy hugs him tightly, and he thinks he might never want to leave your warm embrace.
“I’m so close,” you cry out, your body squirming in his hold. Your peak was rapidly approaching as he continued his assault on your pussy.
“Answer the question then you can come,” he whines, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, leaving marks as he nears his peak.
“Mhm! Yes, I’ve always fucking liked you, Leon.” You cried out, eager to expose all your secrets to him if it meant you came. As you climax, your pussy milks Leon’s cock as it gushes around him.
“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Leon moans, his voice breathy as his orgasm crashes after yours. He doesn’t know if it’s the weight of your confession or the whimpers that escape your throat that send butterflies in him as he spills into you. He kisses you one last time, moaning into you as he rides his high.
Pulling out, he collapses right next to you. You’re both panting, covered in cum and sweat. A wave of exhaustion overcomes you, and you hope he doesn’t bring up what you said amidst fucking. You’re content pretending it didn’t happen if it meant you wouldn’t get to face your fears.
“Thank you for uh,” Leon trails off, and it's like a switch flipped. He’s bashful at mentioning that he had just lost his virginity as if he wasn’t calling you a whore a few minutes ago. Turning to his side, you come nearly face-to-face with him once again.
“Mhm, you’re welcome, I think.” You’re still unsure how you feel about the situation. Finally, you had fucked him, but what significance did it hold to him? Your eyes flutter shut, sleep finally overcoming your wrecked body. You expected the same would happen to Leon, but you were wrong. Leon was in deep thought.
Leon calls your name, cutting your sleep short. You snap your eyes open, sitting up, you await his question with your arms crossed. He looked uneasy, but you’re too drained to question why.
“Did you mean what you said? That you liked me.” His voice is quiet as he gazes at your form.
“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled in response. What was even the point of lying anymore? His cum was dripping between your thighs. What is the worst he can do? You think you can already guess his response. Guilt was eating at you. He wouldn’t be in this position if you did what he wanted. You added, “Sorry for fucking up your night.”
It’s quiet, and you’re nervously trying to gauge his reaction until he breaks the silence.
“I think I found someone better,” he responds. You laugh at the mere absurdity of the entire situation.
“It took fucking me to find that out?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
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joontroverted · 7 months ago
Text
hate the way you smile
bully! baji keisuke x popular girl reader
fandom : tokyo revengers
word count : 5.5k
tags : he is a bully (only to you tbh), dubcon, panty kink, he gives you a wedgie lol, pussy eating, anal fingering (just a bit), exhibitionism, groping, stalking (kinda), they are in school for the only purpose of them wearing uniforms, but I've been kinda vague about that because I hate writing high school aus, so you can def imagine them to be in college, all characters are 18+ only
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, IF THESE TAGS DO NOT SUIT YOU, SCROLL
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you're not a loser.
quite the contrary actually, you're very popular. 
you joined the school pretty late, which itself was not very common, causing everyone to ogle at you. and judging from the way they treat you, they liked what they saw.
your features and mannerisms captivated everyone, right from the way you walked into class to the little smile you gave after the introduction the teacher forced you into doing. that would've been called cringe on anyone else, but you pulled it off.
keisuke has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never does. 
yeah yeah, you were the shiny new thing when you first walked in. and then you got most of your answers correct in class, no matter when the teacher called on you. most of the answers, that is, because when you got an answer wrong and the teacher corrected you, keisuke finally felt vindicated. that would be the start of the chipping of your bright exterior. 
but no. instead you snorted (and God even your snort was cute) and rolled your eyes, muttering stupid before smacking yourself on the side of the head with the tip of your pencil. that had the class giggling, causing even the teacher to smile as she continued with the rest of the topic. 
what the hell? what was even funny about all this? 
(he watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, with a little lopsided smile on your face as you suddenly realized the rest of the class had heard you. you fanned yourself as if that would blow the embarrassment away somehow, and for just a second your eyes flitted up to his. he turned away immediately.)
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"what do you think of the new girl."
“huh?” says mikey stupidly, his eyes trained on takemichi of all people. keisuke shares a look with draken, deciding to get to the bottom of whatever that is, later.
“she has a name, you know,” says draken, stretching, as the three of them are spread out on the bleachers. 
“what, d’you like her or something?”
“very funny,” he replies, rolling his eyes at keisuke. “emma thinks she's really pretty, and you know emma. she immediately went up to her and started chattering away and the next thing you know they have a bubble tea date planned. i think she even dragged takemichi's girl into it.”
“i don't think they're dating,” mikey’s head whips around, finally decided to acknowledge the two of them.
“they hold hands all the time!”
“did both of them come and tell you word for word that they're dating?” says mikey seriously. 
keisuke and draken exchange another incredulous look.
“yeah, that's what i thought” says mikey victoriously. he turns to keisuke. “do you like her?”
“who the hell are we even talking about anymore?”
“the new girl, keisuke, god, how can you forget what you were talking about so quickly?”
“tch. there's nothing to like about her. gave me something to laugh at with that stupid little introduction she gave us on her first day, but she's just another girl. i don't know why everyone's so obsessed with her.”
“she gave me some of her lunch when she saw me sniffing her,” says mikey unhelpfully. “people should start doing that more.”
“you should stop sniffing people,” replies draken, disgusted.
“guess what she smells like!”
“like cocoa butter on some days and like flowers on others,” blurts out keisuke. 
both mikey and draken turn their heads to keisuke.
“that's what all girls smell like, what the fuck!” he retaliates, looking away, his face burning.
“emma doesn't.”
“yeah, and neither does hina. or takemichi,” drawls mikey, squinting at him. “and you're right. she does smell like cocoa butter. i don't know about flowers. but then again, i’m not the one obsessed with her.”
“i'm not obsessed with her!” hisses keisuke. “and keep your voice down, will you, i’m sure the rest of the world heard you!”
“mikey! draken!” a voice calls from the field in front of them. 
they all turn to see it's you, in your skorts and top, visor in one hand and racquet in the other. the skorts (who the hell came up with that mopey idea) seem to hug your waist just right, the shortness of them making your legs look longer. your top is sticking to your skin from all the sweat you had built up from the match you just had, the white becoming almost see through, and he wonders how you’re either actually goddamn stupid or that desperate for attention for you to wear a red bra underneath it.
you wave at them enthusiastically, and you're close enough to them for him to see your eyes land on him, and you give him a little wave too.
mikey and draken wave back. keisuke rolls his eyes and looks away. “fucking of course she plays tennis, how pretentious,” he mutters.
“how come the girl you're obsessed with doesn't give a fuck about you?” snickers mikey as you walk away, surrounded by your group of girls, chattering and laughing. 
“i'm not obsessed with her first of all, and second of all, we don't even know each other because i’m not a serial sniffer like you.”
“maybe you should be,” sniffs mikey, “‘cuz guess what i smell right now?”
“shut the- ”
“a boy in looove,” sing mikey and draken together, bursting into laughter.
walking home, the more he thinks about your tennis uniform, the more he's pissed off. that wouldn't be a regular bra now, would it? probably a sports bra. he imagines you peeling off the tight top in the locker rooms, laughing with the other girls. how the sweat makes it a bit harder to tug off the bra, causing you to flail around a bit, before it comes off fully. he thinks about you basking in the freedom from it for a bit, chest heaving from all the exertion of the game, nipples hardened from the sudden exposure. 
he imagines you bend over and tug off the skorts you were wearing, wondering what panties you had on. would they be red, like your bra? you seem like a stuck up bitch who would make sure of stupid things like that. judging from how snugly the skorts had fit you, your panties would probably be digging into your soft skin, wouldn't they? were your panties riding up your pussy? the thought is quickly followed by the image of tight, red panties wedged up your pussy, he could almost hear you whine as you pulled them down and off of you. he didn't even have to imagine the rest before he broke off into a run to his home so he had some material left to finish himself off.
bad thoughts. these are bad thoughts that are too raunchy and precious for someone as annoying as you. 
(to his utter irritation, it's the small smile you had on your face when you waved at him that pushed him over the edge at the end.)
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you're not a loser.
so fuck knows why you're so hellbent on doing the project exactly the way you wanted to, with absolutely no room for creative liberties, no changes in font, and every single time keisuke suggested something he could see you typing up a storm on the group chat. he made sure to see the message, but not read it and then be conveniently offline for the rest of the day. he was sure you would resort to calling him to beg him to not deviate from the color pallete you (and you alone) had decided on. obviously everyone else nodded and went along with your decision. but you hadn't called. 
so here you are, trailing after him. 
“keisuke!”
he groans and keeps walking down the hallway.
“keisuke! i just wanted to let you know that i know it feels like i'm being so restrictive, but all these rules are just for the presentation, like the ppt!” you dodge a couple walking hand in hand and you turn around and wave at them. “you guys are so cute! anyways, keisuke, you have complete freedom over what you want to say during your part of the presentation!”
“ha, so can i talk about my favorite kpop star while the rest of you are talking about the american involvement in the korean war? thanks!” he snorts, striding away.
“i didn't mean whatever you want, i meant you can speak about your portion however you want! the format we've decided on is just for the ppt!” you hurry around a sharp corner he took, still following him.
“we didn't decide anything. you chose the topic, and you chose the format of the ppt,” he grits out.
“well, when we were going around suggesting ideas, everyone seemed to like mine, so they went with it. and you weren't even in the meet!”
he grunts. that was true.
you open your mouth to say something and someone’s calling your name, so you turn around to respond to them. by the time you turn back he's gone again.
“fuck! fuck!” you mutter, adjusting your tote bag over your shoulder. God, he is so irritating. him and how serious he always is about treating you like shit but never taking it all the way. you always feel the prick of his eyes staring at you, and initially you always turned to smile or talk to him, but he'd just look away and outwardly ignore you. 
you had taken to staring back at him, in hopes of him at least taking it as a sign to leave you alone but that hadn't worked either. 
instead, now you know how his silky hair slinks to the front of his face as time passes during classes, and how he absentmindedly gnaws on his pens with his canine teeth. you know how he actually prefers putting his hair up in a high ponytail rather than a low one on the few occasions that he does tie his hair. you know he's actually studying when he’s wearing his red reading glasses. he takes his blazer off often and he's rather ripped, and you're embarrassed to say that you might've asked around why. your classmates said he has a black belt and used to beat people up for fun. 
you can't figure out if that's a joke or not. 
you don’t care that he ignores you, you have enough friends and more than enough people who would pay attention to you. but it kept building and building. everyone said he was a quiet but nice guy. was rowdy when he was younger, but mellowed down and began to focus on school a bit more. you would love to see that side of him, especially now in the crux of the group project. he still had a wild side to him apparently and everyone knew not to mess with him and his loyal set of goons kazutora and chifuyu (who is quite the loser himself), but you'd had just about enough today. you had messaged him that you would like to talk when classes ended, and clearly he didn't give a fuck. 
one last attempt, you promise. one last attempt and then you can boot him off of the project and be at peace again.
remember when you couldn't figure out if they were lying about baji keisuke being a bully or not? well, you're about to find out, because while you're digging through your bag for your history project folder, you don't see the foot sticking out right around the corner you turn.
one minute you're walking on solid ground, the next minute you're in the air and crashing down on it.
your bag provides no security at all, all the books, your cute stationery, the folder, your sanitizer, lip gloss, and all the little trinkets clatter onto the floor, spreading out onto the empty hallway. 
you look up to see golden eyes, framed by dark silky hair staring down at you. 
“what the fuck?” anger rolls through you. “what the fuck, baji?”
“oh, so it's baji now, is it? it was keisuke! keisuke! just a second ago!” he mimics your voice with a laugh.
you're still on your knees on the floor. you look around, and the school is empty, even the last of the people remaining would be downstairs in the cafeteria. 
“lookin’ for all your admirers?” he sneers, bending down to pick up one of your keychains. 
“what do you want from me?” you ask, reaching up to take it from him, but he snatches his hand back. “give it back!”
“you don't have to worry about this,” he says cooly, watching you try to gather all your stuff. you're on all fours, grabbing your things. you're getting nowhere ultimately, everything is far too spread out.
keisuke watches as your skirt hikes higher and higher up, teasing him with little glimpses at your white panties. was that lace on the sides? keisuke almost falls to his knees just from that, as you continue being a stupid slut so obliviously.
“get up!” he snaps and hauls you up with a firm grip on your bicep. “i told you not to worry about that!”
“oh yeah?” you ask, turning to him, your voice raising. “i would love to not worry about this, considering i was just minding my own business! i would love to not worry about the group project but you don't give a fuck!”
he raises his eyebrows, watching you go off on him. you get closer and closer to him, and start pushing him in his chest. “i'd at least like to have a conversation with you, but no, you're such a fucking asshole that you'd rather just stare at me resentfully like a creep instead of actually come up to me and talk to me! but i get it you know, i'd also be so full of hate if i was made to repeat a year but still remained as stupid as i was when i failed!” 
the silence that follows is palpable. 
you don't stand down. for once, there isn't a spec of your usual sweetness or benefit of doubt. you are glaring at him, looking right into his eyes, daring him to respond. 
“so you've been asking around about me, huh?”
“that's rich coming from you. if i see you stare at me one more time, or blatantly ignore me, or disrespect me again, i'll gouge your fucking eyes out!” you hiss, pushing him one final time. you turn around and once again bend over to start collecting your things.
“stop.”
“you are not allowed to- “
“i'll leave you alone if you do this.”
that makes you turn back to him. hurts a lil bit to see you only listen to him so he'd leave you alone, but he’d brought this upon himself. “what do you want,” you spit. 
he stares at you for a moment. you wonder if he's just gonna burst out laughing at how you deluded yourself into thinking that he'd leave you alone, right after he knocked you to the ground like that. his hair's out of his ponytail and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his fangs flashing at you. 
he tilts his head to the side, and gives you a lazy grin. his eyes however, remain serious and trained on you.
“show me your panties.”
you balk, your anger dimming, replaced with confusion. “what?”
he looks serious as ever. he leans forward into your personal space, his hair almost brushing yours. “show me your panties,” he says slowly, as if he were talking to someone stupid, “and i'll consider leaving you alone.”
“con- consider? you told me you'd leave me alone!”
“depends. yes or no?”
“no! no! obviously no!” you're completely flushed, and you try pulling the hem of your skirt down defensively, wishing you hadn't snuck off to the bathroom to roll it up an inch before you came out to talk to him. “i'm not gonna show you my panties!”
he looks at you with a sort of bored but also amused look in his face. 
“do you seriously think i haven't noticed that your skirt's shorter now than it was in class?” he flips the tuck of your shirt up, “ah, there it is. you've rolled your skirt up just to come talk to me.”
“no… no!” you sputter, all the fight in you bleeding out from embarrassment. “i didn't, and i didn't do it for you!”
“i know you want my attention anyways. so let me be clear. either you show me your panties, which seems like you wanted to do that anyways, or i make you show me your panties.” he smiles, so simply and easily as if he's discussing what to get for lunch. “as simple as that.”
you snort. “you're gonna make me show you my panties? and how's that gonna work?” 
he laughs. “easily.”
you shouldn't have asked that, you think. keisuke pushes off the wall he's been leaning on and walks towards you. you walk back, unsure of what to do, your eyes never leaving each others, yours wide in shock and his sharp like a snake. your back hits the wall, and now you've got nowhere to go. 
“like this,” he whispers, and tugs you forward a bit by your belt loops. he then reaches forward, peering above your shoulder, and you stupidly lean forward almost on instinct. his silky hair brushes against your cheek, and for a second, you're lost in the sensation of that and the next moment, you feel his fingers fiddle with the back of waistband of your skirt, untucking it. 
“you tuck your shirt into your panties, huh?” he murmurs, “you're really such a loser.”
“what are you do- ah!”
his fingers are on the waistband of your panties now. and he pulls. the fabric gets pulled up from the back and digs into your ass from his tug. embarrassment floods your body from how humiliating this is, but also from how disgustingly wet you feel yourself getting.
“keisuke! keisuke, please!” you whisper, turning to look at him, but he's still looking over your shoulder. there's no way to conceal his view, because not only is he taller than you but also he can see down into your skirt.
“ah, there she is,” he mutters. another tug. “i don't know why you didn't want me to see ‘em. well, i already did see a bit of them when you were sprawled on the floor on all fours looking helpless, but you can't expect me to be satisfied just from that.”
“keisuke, please, stop it!” you squeal, ears hot. you can't believe he's basically giving you a wedgie, his fingers are in your panties and your out in public, more or less.
“all right then.” your panties snap back in place, stinging a bit. he pushes away a step, hands up. “run along then, little loser.”
you stand still head down, with a humiliating feeling settling in you. you don't want to leave.
he watches you not make a single move to your fallen bag or even to run away. 
“fuck, i knew there was something weird about you! i knew you weren't this sweet little popular preppy princess everyone makes you out to be!” he laughs, his deep voice echoing down the empty hallway. “you're a nasty little whore, aren't you?”
“m'not a nasty whore!” you whine, “i just- “
“fuck am i gonna have my way with you,” he whistles. “i was being polite earlier. turn around.”
“why- “
“talk all you like whore, but i better see you listening to what i say,” he cuts you off. He takes off his blazer, dropping it to the ground and folding his arms. “turn around.”
you turn around, with an inkling of what he's going to do. you stare at the lockers in front you and bite your lip.
“hands on the lockers.”
“what are you go- “
he lifts up your skirt and tucks it deep into the waistband, leaving you panty clad ass completely exposed. the cool air hitting you there directly makes you clench involuntarily and he almost moans from how cute and innocent that looks. he's finally got a good look at your panties. white, fitted cotton panties with a lace trim. it's ridiculous how simple it and how much it manages to choke him up. the back of the panties are still a bit yanked up from where he had pulled earlier, and you're clearly dying from embarrassment based on how low you're holding your head.
well, there's no time to waste.
he grabs onto the waistband at the back of your panties and pulls. the material disappears into your cheeks, digging up and up and up as he pulls, and you almost lose balance from the force of it. “keisuke!” you gasp, your hand coming back for some support. “i- “
“are you stupid?” he snarls, tugging up once more, causing you to jump from how mean he sounds, “or are your hands on the lockers?"
your hands are immediately on the lockers. 
“good girl,” he mutters, “goood girl.” he pulls more and more on your poor panties, and they're crudely rubbing against your hole. your feet almost leave the ground with ever tug he gives, causing you to bounce. you're almost dead with humiliation, but the grinding against your clit and the embarrassment of the whole situation has you so flustered and wrecked.
“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, keisuke!”
he's so focused on your hot your ass looks, clenched around your panties like that, soft cheeks being put through such torture, and he can't imagine how your puckered little hole must feel from all the abuse it's taking. makes him wanna kiss it better. 
“what is it? you don't like being treated like the little loser you are, huh?” he croons into your ear. “is this not princess treatment enough for you?”
he lets you go all of a sudden, and you almost crumple to your knees, but he catches you and hauls you up, turning you towards him. 
“you havin fun?” he taunts, towering over you. 
“fuck off! you're so mean!” you sniffle, trying to pull your panties down.
“ah ah,” he says sternly, smacking your hands away. “none of that. i'm not done with you. boys!”
the door of the classroom next to you is kicked open and you see kazutora and chifuyu walk out, who follow keisuke like shadows and drank up every word he said loyally.
you glare at keisuke, who has both your wrists in a firm grip in just one hand of his. he grins at them. “told ya she's a slut.”
kazutora snickers, but your eyes remain on chifuyu. he's on the fucking math team with you! you glare holes into his eyes as he looks your way, and his cheeks turn pink, either because it's nerd recognizes nerd or it's because your skirt is tucked all the way up with your entire ass and panties exposed.
keisuke's attention is back on you as he lifts your wrists above your head, pinning them to the lockers behind you. you try to fight him, but it's fruitless. he then tucks the front of your skirt into your waistband too, leaving the front of your panties exposed too.
your panties have a little heart stitched onto the front, your pubic hair peeking out from the lace on the leg holes. 
“now, isn’t she a pretty baby,” keisuke laughs to himself, as your heart flutters a little from that praise. “hold her up for me, boys.”
“what do you mean hold me up?”
kazutora and chifuyu position themselves on either side of you and hold on the sides of your underwear. “chifuyu!” you gasp, turning to look at the boy, who refuses to make eye contact with you, but does what his supreme leader says anyways.
“hey!” keisuke snaps his fingers in front of your face. “you don't focus on anyone but me, kay?”
you narrow your eyes.
he squishes both your cheeks with one hand, making your lips pucker out. “answer.”
“okay, okay,” you whimper, breaking eye contact. 
“eyes on me, sweetheart. i'm gonna let go your hands now. if you try anything, you're gonna find out cute you look with a smack on your face, got it?”
your eyes turn watery as you look into his, lips pushing into a pout. “got it,” you mutter.
“there's my girl. now let's see what we have here.” and with that he sinks to his knees, till he's face level with your panties. he places his big hands on the outside of either thigh, running them up and down for a moment, sending shivers up your spine. he grips your thighs and watches his nails sink into your fatty flesh, and how you gasp at the pain that feels so good.
he leans forward and places a kiss on your mound, and then goes lower and places another firm kiss on your clit. the little whimper you give spurs him on. he pushes his nose between your lips and sniffs, groaning to himself. 
“fuck that's good pussy,” he presses his nose alone the slit and goes up and up until it meets your clit and he presses down as his lips comes up to rub your pussy through your panties. his nose rubbing on your clit has you moaning, as if there aren't two of your classmates holding you up by your panties, your legs weak. 
“gimme those hands,” he demands, his voice rough. you place your hands in his gingerly. he places a gentle kiss on both of them, so uncharacteristic to the situation you are in, and how he's been treating you. “i'm gonna give you a very important job, got it?”
“uh huh,” you whisper.
“you're gonna hold my hair up while i eat your pussy through your panties, okay? i don't wanna be missing a moment of it because of my hair getting in the way”
you almost short circuit. you stare at him dumbly, and are brought back to the moment when he places a sharp right onto your pussy lips.
“yes! yes!” you nod, and with your painted pink nails, you gently push back his hair and hold it in a ponytail. “this okay?”
he nods, and gives you a little wink. you gulp and look away.
“all right, we're back to business,” he mutters, going back down to your pussy. “hold ‘em higher for me.”
kazutora and chifuyu (whom you'd almost forgotten about from the previously somewhat sweet moment) pull your panties higher from the sides, making you gasp as they dig into your pussy this time.
keisuin prods and pushes at your pussy lips. he pushes the leg holes of your panties closer and closer together, little by little before he yanks on the top your panties suddenly, causing them to slip between your lips and tug up to your clit.
“ah! keisuke! that's really- “
“c'mon boys hold her higher for me, will ya? i don't mind if your bounce her for me. pussy's so wet just from all this panty action, let’s see how sensitive her little clit is, huh?”
he's talking over you like you're some thing. the boys pull you higher this time, and you can't help but marvel at the strenth of your panties for a hot second before bliss shoots up your body as the crotch of your panties rub against your clit, and you're finally getting some good direct action. 
keisuke watches the wet spot in your panties grow bigger and bigger as your panties dig deeper into your clit, your fat pussy lips hang out from either side of the thin bunched up material and your knees knock together from how horny you are and how desperately you're trying to squeeze for more friction. all while you diligently hold his hair back. even in this debauched state, you're adorable. his dick is straining against his pants, he unbuckles them and frees himself, his mouth watering as he dives right in.
panties riding up to the maximum level, he laps up against them, tasting your juices. he spreads your lips even further, making sure there's no room whatsoever for you to escape and you whine and kick. his eyes almost roll back to his skull and his soul ascends when his tongue comes in contact with the slick and gummy insides of your pussy, clenching around both him and your panties. he's growing jealous of your panties now.
“change of plans,” he says, gruffly, “hold her up by her legs, and if you drop her, i swear to god, you're dead.”
chifuyu and kazutora are quick to follow, as they each take one leg and lift you up, holding you open and ready for keisuke, but this time with your entire pussy directly facing him. you wail at the sudden change, but to no one's surprise you're ignored.
keisuke pushes your panties to the side and can finally see your pussy in all it's glory. your cute little bush and your gaping pussy from all the edging it has taken a minute ago. he rolls his saliva around in his tongue and then spits a glob of his spit right onto your pussy. you clench at the feel of how lewd it is, the warm, thick saliva coating your vagina and sliding down, dripping from your asshole. it's disgusting, but it feels so good. 
he pushes his entire face in, slurping and swallowing all you have to offer. you're glad that the two are holding you up, because you're too fucked out to even feel the tips of your toes, let alone stand. through all this, you make sure to hold his hair back, because you don't want him to be mad at you.
a finger presses on your asshole and you quiver with shock, snapping out of your daze. “kei- kei, keisuke, not there, not!”
you babble stupidly, passed the point of coherence, as keisuke lets you bounce a little on his fingertip dipping in and out of your puckered little hole, while he slurps up your perfect little pussy, sucking and flicking your clit. 
“‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum!” you sob, kicking your feet a bit, like the spoiled little thing you are. 
“cum baby. i've got you,” he mutters, as he reaches up one hand to give your tits a hard squeeze. that's the final straw for you, as you finally let go, nipples aching, pussy tingling and asshole prodded open. you come on his mouth and he eagerly drinks up every last drop, jerking himself faster and faster. 
“bring her down,” he groans, and the lower you down to the floor, still holding you and keeping you spread. you look up him, your mouth agape as you watch him fist himself and push himself to the edge, cumming all over your face. at first you're taken aback, but then you just sink into the feeling of the hot cum drizzling all over your face dripping down… it almost feel therapeutic.
god. you really are a whore. and a loser.
you sigh. 
“oi, go pick her stuff up, and put it in her bag. nicely, like in however cute way she usually does it.”
you're gently set on the ground, on your hands and knees, shaking slightly. you see kazutora and chifuyu walk away and start gathering your stuff up off of the floor. keisuke kneels down to you, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. he pushes you slightly onto your knees and wipes the cum off of your face so gently and so sweetly, you could've mistaken it for your sweetheart wiping your wet face after a running home on a rainy day.
“you okay?” he asks.
you blink. “are you happy?”
“huh?”
“are you happy that you finally got to debase me and see me as a person and not some shiny new thing?”
“to be honest, you were a shiny thing till i wiped all the shininess away right now.”
you smack him on his chest with the back of your hand.
“i'm sorry,” he says looking into your eyes. “i just… um. have a crush on you that was so overwhelming that i wanted to, well, debase you,” he mutters. 
you laugh, and scratch your face. “whoa, i totally had no clue whatsoever.”
“is your face still sticky? tora, she has some wet wipes in her bags, toss ‘em over.” the wet wipes fly into his hands, and he pulls one out, wads it up and starts cleaning you up again. 
“how did you know i have wet wipes in my bag?”
“maybe i’ve looked through it before. maybe i haven't, who knows?” he shrugs, not looking at you, suddenly extremely concentrated on the area near your eye. 
“when did you even- ”
“i might also have memorized your schedule, and all the classes you take. oh, and i also need your panties from today.”
he gets a slap in the face for that.
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this was 2.5k words longer than it was supposed to be. i'd love to hear what you think of it 😇
likes, comments, asks and reblogs HIGHLY APPRECIATED ❤️
read my other tokyo revengers fic!
kiss it better (ran haitani)
dividers by the super creative @anitalenia you can tell, I'm kinda obsessed 🌟
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simp-ly-writes · 2 months ago
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The Comment Section (pt.5)
─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic
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Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader
─ · · SUMMARY: You and Spencer get invited to another convention and host a panel; the fans are ecstatic and you have never felt so high, so happy and truly carefree in your life that makes you do things you would have no considered doing...
─ · · TAGS: SPOILERS IN TAGS!! gender-neutral pronouns, angst, social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at comedy, alcohol consumption, slowburn, light swearing, kissing, fluff, mutual pinning, friends that act like lovers, friends/lovers.
─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART FOUR | PART 4.5 | PART SIX
─ · · A/N: will they... won't they...
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🔔 angelagiovanagiarratana, just added to their story, check it out!
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Much Time Later...
🔔 CreatorCon just posted, check it out!
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Liked by spennser, ianhecox, (name)s_username and others
CreatorCon please give a warm welcome to our newest additions to this years panel roster: (name) and Spencer Agnew from Smosh! 🎉
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username99 not to be the grammer police or anything but you should also put (name)'s last name if you are putting Spencer's down since they are both not married 😬
↳ username01 shhh let them join the ✨ delusions ✨ ↳ username84 grammAr not grammer* ↳ username99 shut up 😘
username32 please bring back Brennan Lee Mulligan again!! I am on my hands and knees begging you, please!!!
username22 spencer helping (name) up the stairs and (name) holding the door for them afterwards is just so sweet 🥹
username48 hopefully the V.I.P passes actually work this time around
↳ CreaterCon we are so sorry to hear this, please send us a direct message to let us know what we can do to further improve your experience. ↳ username48 fix your shit. ❤️
username10 what is going on?? what about the Theorists panel, does anyone know where that got moved to?? I can't find any info on the websites or socials 😭
username50 love the line up (so far!) would like to see even more members of the Smosh family though. But I am really looking forward to this!!
username43 those crowd questions about to go crazy, too bad though they will probs limit their personal life stuff.
username19 they about to make a whole 1000+ people crowd third wheel, now that is talent 👏👏👏
smosh thank you for having them both for the weekend, us parents need a break every now and then
↳ smoshpit yes, please take them for us. PLEASE 🙏 ↳ ianhecox (but seriously don't actually, they make us a lot of money) ↳ smoshgames wait, why am i just finding this out now 😭 ↳ username67 for once i am actually fine with company account commenting, what is going on?!?!?
(name)s_username so excited to attend, thank you for having me and my "husband" 🤣
username71 OMG after last years PAX and CreatorClash events I am SOOO READY FOR THESE TWO AGAIN. ORGANIZERS ARE IN THE KNOW ABOUT (NAME) AND SPENCER, (YOURSHIPNAME) FOREVERRRRR!!!!!!!
spennser we are never escaping the allegations...
↳ (name)s_username never 🤣 ↳ username44 (yourshipname) actually addressing (yourshipname) directly?? never thought i would live to see the day! ↳ username01 we take this as them admitting feelings... right... right? ↳ username39 touch grass.
username29 Does anyone know what they are willing to sign or if they are signing stuff this year??
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🔔 SmoshCast just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.
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What is the best movie? (definitively)
Smosh Cast ✓ [Subscribed] Like 128k | Dislike | ... 582K subscribers 488k views 2 days ago #7 on trending (name) and Spencer debate the greatest form of every media. from movies to tv shows, video games and music; listeners are in for a wild ride.
2,222 Comments
username56 2 days ago Really missing Amanda and Shayne doing the weekly episodes, but I guess I can survive on (name) and Spencer... username77 2 days ago Why is nobody talking about how outstandingly (name) preformed in their movie?!?! I just watched it this weekend and was floored by their preformance. I'm surprised it didn't get any further mention in the videos! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username62 2 days ago I am shocked that a youtuber, nevertheless a comedian could portray such range and subtle expressions- it was beautiful even with what little screen time they had in comparison to others. They took away every scene they were in! ↳ username88 1 day ago I really hope they receive recognition, I really think (name) could make it mainstream. I mean, their connections alone from starring in this but be crazy. ↳ username19 1 day ago Im a selfish fan I will admit, I wouldn't want them to leave Smosh for other projects. In all honesty I could not image not having them in front of or in the background of Smosh videos. I mean could you even think of how Spencer would react?? They are stuck to each other like glue. ↳ username33 1 day ago they both are adults, i'm sure they could work something out. (name) shouldn't be held back from becoming something greater (even though they are great now!) because of the "kinda" relationships they are in. ↳ username20 1 day ago I think time will tell us the answers. But I really hope that (name) considers all their options... username01 2 days ago I have been living for all these play fighting and argument videos of the two of them. Like they have chemistry, a degree of hate for one another in some ways (but like healthy silly hate)- i'm pulling out my hair more and more as to why they won't just kiss already!! username67 2 days ago Okay but (name)'s take are 100% based. homebro/girl knows what they are speaking about and never missed ▼ 31 replies ↳ username72 1 day ago Yeah but I think Spencer's take was more well rounded especially in the TV Shows argument. ↳ username22 1 day ago Couples Therapist Here, I just like how they can argue so civilly with one another and really show active listening with one another. Take the eye-contact, small head nods, and inclined seating with restating what they said and expanding upon it. Its beautiful really plus they both know a lot about their field so that helps too I guess. ↳ username88 1 day ago OMG please make a full video break down of one of their videos together, it would do really well!! ↳ username10 1 day ago Yes, Please!! username27 12 hours ago Okay, but we all known that the best video game is Purble Place. username50 30 minutes ago I can't wait to hear from you both in person, have it marked on my calendar!! username91 1 hour ago cringe. username43 5 hours ago Okay but now I need tier lists on them together. Video Concept #1: (name) and Spencer rank every time they almost fell in love and the one time/multiple times they really did. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username66 1 hour ago Officially am deceased XD ↳ username21 1 hour ago Video Concept #2: (name) and Spencer rank every hangout that was actually a date username74 30 minutes ago why am I crying when the video ended?? Like I want whatever this is.
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🔔 (name)s_username just posted, check it out!
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Liked by spennser, co_mill, anthonypadilla and others
(name)s_username it was awesome meeting everyone, same time next year? 😄❤️
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CreatorCon let's make it a date? 😉
↳ (name)s_username noooo, not again! 😩 🏃‍♂️💨 ↳ username41 bwahahahhahahah!!! ↳ chickenshopdate oi!! 💢😡 ↳ (name)s_username ummm, now this is awkward... 😬
username88 was not long enough, i could listen to the two of you speak all day. defiantly worth the money!!
tomeybones i don't think florescent lighting was anyones light but you shine beautifully in it!
username48 glen powell's character should have gotten back with you at the end of the movie, you both had better chemistry!! Its giving La La Land all over again 😭
co_mill wished we could have made it but great work bestie, you killed it up there!! ❤️❤️
↳ (name)s_username aww thank u! would have loved having you there too ❤️❤️
username40 okay google, play "can't help but falling in love with you." move out of the way spenser, if you don't want them- i'll glady take (name)!
spennser good job fellow "spouse" 👍
↳ (name)s_username yes, you as well, "spouse" 👍 ↳ username01 okay, but this is just straight up cruel 😭
anthonypadilla i didn't see anything appear in the news so good work team!
damien_haas so as I was stuck in the signing booths you both were playing with paper airplanes and arm wrestleing?? What fairness is this?? /sarcastic positive
username71 OMG how did I just discover you now and miss a chance of meeting you?!?!?
username60 please tell me that there's a sequel coming out, I refuse to accept that you didn't re-marry him in the film 😭
phatchance excuse me but I know these two people packing out a 2000 person panel and they are the coolest ❤️
username31 I was too scared to ask anything because you both are just such pretty people like holy crap I love you both so much, you all mean the world to me and thank you so much for the hug. I am never washing the coat now
↳ username77 so that went progressively down hill lol
username12 Day 1.4 million of asking, just get together, or fuck, or something, anything but this (or breaking up for that matter) with Spencer. Like get it together.
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🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!
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🔔 alex_tran's story is no longer available.
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🔔 (name)s_username's story is no longer available.
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🔔 SmoshPit just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.
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Sneaking into Concerts??? (Two Truths, One Lie)
Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 79k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 370k views 1 weeks ago
7,889 Comments
username31 1 week ago I know I sound like a broken record but it feels weird not having Spencer or (name) in front of camera for once. I got so used to them always being part of the cast like Courtney or Ian. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username29 1 week ago I think around the 12 minute mark, Courtney said something about them both calling in sick. ↳ username73 1 week ago I mean... did you see their stories with one another last night? They both were properly wasted LMAO ↳ username90 30 minutes ago (name) is such a cute drunk, just complimenting and flirting with everyone until Spencer asks them to shut up or hugs them. Damien and Alex really had their work cut out for them hahahha! ↳ username20 4 hours ago Okay but external videos also show they dancing together and grabbing waters its so wholesome that even when heavily drunk they are constantly thinking about one another username88 1 day ago Would have never thought Anthony would have been the one to sneak into a festival! username28 12 hours ago Did anyone manage to catch (name)'s or alex's story last night or was I just seeing things before it got taken down?? ▼ 301 replies ↳ username90 30 minutes ago OMG YES! I threw my phone in shock!! Should've taken a screenshot I am kicking myself rn. ↳ username01 30 minutes ago I. am. not. okay. physically and emotionally after this. username55 4 days ago HAHHAHA "sick." hmmm sure (name) and spencer, sure...
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🔔 (Yourshipname) Updates just uploaded!
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"Drunk Minds Speak A Sober Heart:" A (yourshipname) Edit
(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | ... 1.12K subscribers 499k views 1 week ago #2 on trending click to expand
14,119 Comments
⚲ Pinned by Creator (yourshipname)updates ✓ 1 week ago I will take this video down if requested by either (name) or Spencer but for now... MWAHAHHAHA they have kissed with photo evidence!! ▼ 173 replies ↳ username97 1 hour ago I think I have just ascended. This is truly one of the best days of my life. Take this all your non-believers and haters!!! Amazing edit BTW! ↳ username11 1 week ago I don't think they are going to bring it up anywhere but a small victory is a victory nonetheless. I see this as a mission success boys!! ↳ username01 1 week ago I am happier for them and their still non-relationship than my own long term one hahahhaa ↳ username27 12 hours ago I am in disbelief, I never thought they would. I don't care if they were both hella drunk, they actually kissed?!?!? Like I don't know how to process this information. ↳ username13 12 hours ago fwehd0dfygdkospfhjhgf ↳ username44 just now eloquently said. username23 1 week ago 12 years of pining for one drunk kiss, I'll take it gosh darn it! username90 4 days ago Am currently re-watching all the edits and past moments while having this picture on the side monitor. I am living in a peak moment rn. username80 2 days ago I called my mom to tell her about this and she cheered as well. usernmae32 just now (name) just confirmed on their twitter that them, spencer and the rest of the smosh crew are all going to the oscars! ▼ 4 replies ↳ username13 just now Yes!!! LETS FREAKING GOOOOO!!!! username60 4 days ago This will go down as one of the greatest love stories in the history of the internet; i need movies, more fanfiction, music, and more fanart!! username78 10 hours ago happy for them, truly.
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─ · · A/N: 😉
─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria
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atimeofyourlife · 1 year ago
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Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round: bakery au rated: t | wc: 840 | cw: none | tags: pre-steddie Eddie never got involved in the upside down, he and Steve meet again a few years later in a bakery in Chicago
The bakery was Steve's pride and joy. It was something that he had accomplished and built up by himself, without the input from his parents. No financial assistance from them, no help in learning how to manage a business. It had been a lot of trial and error, and incredible support from his friends, but he had succeeded. He'd brought the small unit in Chicago using most of the hush money payment over the Upside Down. It needed a lot of work doing to it before he was ready to open it, but once it was open it just took off. Constantly selling out of most of the bakes by lunchtime each day, having to take on extra staff to keep up with demand.
After nearly two years, he had a number of very loyal regulars, the ones who would come in at the same times and same days each week, always ordering the same things. The local workers that would always come in before work or on a morning break for a sweet treat everyday. The older couples that would come in twice a week, once for a dessert for their weekly date nights, and once for treats for their grandchildren. The college students that were adamant that Steve's pastries were infinitely better than the ones they could get on campus.
But the newest regular, one his staff had nicknamed 'Mr Metal,' Steve had yet to meet. From the name, Steve assumed that he worked in the new record store that had opened across the street, but the man always managed to be in and out while Steve was still working in the kitchen, setting up the next batch for the oven or decorating what had just finished cooling.
One Friday morning, he was carrying out the boxes ready to restock the counter, when he heard the voice of Zara, one of the cashiers.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Give me a minute, I'll just have to ask the boss."
"Ask me what?" Steve asked as he rounded the counter, the stack of boxes obscuring most of his vision.
"Please tell me that those boxes have lemon cream cheese pastries and apple pie cookies in them." She replied, sounding a little stressed.
"Yeah, lemon are in the top box, apple in the bottom." Steve replied as he put the boxes down on the side, and started unstacking them. He glanced up at the customer, a vaguely familiar, handsome man, and from the long hair, piercings, and the Black Sabbath t-shirt, this had to be the Mr Metal that all the staff kept mentioning. "How many of each did you want?"
"Two of each." The man replied, staring hard at Steve.
"Uh huh." Steve worked quickly to box them up. "Are you aware of our Friday five for four offer? Five bakes for the price of four, so you could get another of your choice at no extra cost."
"I get them for me and my coworkers, theres four of us so I don't think we can split a fifth four ways without fighting over who gets what."
"I can always bag it separately, so you can slip it in your pocket. They don't have to know a thing about it." Steve offered with a wink.
"You drive a hard bargain, Harrington. I'll take another apple pie cookie."
"I-" Steve looked at the man, confused. Unsure how he knew his name. "Did you go to Hawkins, then? I'm sorry, I don't think I remember you."
"You got a table round here? I could climb up and start talking about jocks and conformity." He looked Steve up and down. "Though, you don't seem to conform to the jock image any more, big boy."
It took another moment, but the name hit Steve as he was bagging the extra cookie. "Munson. Used to buy weed off you."
"I don't know if I should be honored that the king remembers me, or wounded that it took so long."
Steve rolled his eyes at the dramatics, it reminding him even more of high school. "I don't remember most people now, too many concussions."
"Shit. But now you're boss of a bakery. How life changes."
"Yeah. It only took three serious concussions, two major disasters in Hawkins, and one disownment after getting caught behind The Hideout with Matty P. But then I realized that this is what I want to be doing."
"What were you doing behind The Hideout with Matty P? Smoking weed or something? I know you never hid about that."
"We had been smoking, but at that point my mouth was, uh, otherwise occupied." Steve admitted.
"Oh, shit." Eddie choked back a laugh, then looked at his watch. "I'd love to hear more about that, but I've got to get back to work."
Steve quickly wrote his number on the bag with the extra cookie, before handing it over. "Call me sometime, maybe we could spend some time together outside of work."
"You're on, Harrington." Eddie winked at Steve, before leaving the bakery.
im not the happiest with the end of this bc it was rushed after my brain turned to mush from migraines
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fatesundress · 2 years ago
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⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader
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part i here.
summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)
tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.
note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡
word count. 6.3k
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The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.
You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.
“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”
You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”
Pot. Kettle. Whatever.
“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”
You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.
You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”
She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”
And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.
“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.
You have, of course, trained for this. 
It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.
Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.
His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.
“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same. 
You deserve applause for this.
“Tired?”
“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”
His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.
“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.
“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”
“...Hm.”
That’s it. That’s all you get from him.
And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.
“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”
He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.
You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.
Well. Perhaps not, then.
You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.
And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.
You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.
“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”
“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”
“You are such a —”
You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it. 
“Just — go then, before I hex you.”
“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”
“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”
You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.
“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.
You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.
Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.
It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.
“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”
You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.
You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.
What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction? 
You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.
Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.
You manage a simple, “And yet.”
“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet. 
You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.
“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.
“I think so. Why?”
“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”
Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.
It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.
“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”
Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.
“Pity.”
Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.
You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —
"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"
“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”
God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner. 
There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.
“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s hardly charity.”
“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”
You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.
“You look lovely.”
It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”
And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.
He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.
His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”
What?
You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —
“Unbelievable…”
He quirks a brow. “What was that?”
“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”
“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”
He — that was —
“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”
“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”
You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.
Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”
You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.
“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”
Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.
“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”
“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”
“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”
No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.
But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”
Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.
“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”
You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.
“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.
You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.
Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”
You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party. 
Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.
If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.
And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.
And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.
And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.
He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.
His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.
You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.
You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.
“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.
The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten. 
This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.
“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again." 
You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?
You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.
You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.
It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.
His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him. 
He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.
You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins. 
This is not like that.
You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.
You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.
His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.
How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?
And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.
You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.
His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.
“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks. 
At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them. 
Tom smiles. “Hm, you did." 
And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.
“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"
Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.
His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.
And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.
Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.
You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”
That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”
His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.
But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.
You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.
“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.” 
Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)
He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything —  is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.
More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.
It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.
“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.
As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.
His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.
Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting. 
He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.
His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.
But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.
You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.
And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.
When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.
A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers. 
When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.
Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.
Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.
You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient. 
But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.
There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still. 
Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”
Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.
And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in. 
It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.
Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.
His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him. 
“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.
You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.
It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.
You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.
“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”
Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.
He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.
And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.
The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.
You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.
But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.
You did say he was yours.
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yuri-is-online · 7 months ago
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Was Lilia more “Oh my thorn fairy I have another child?! I can barely cast a spell as of now and future me wants a fucking KID?! AT THAT AGE?!”
Or more of a
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I HAVE ANOTHER SON?! AND IT’S FROM ME!?
If his Yutu tells him he comes from the future? Because it could imply he does regain his remaining years and magic. Idk how you wrote that problem that even rn it’s giving talk about Lilia surviving book 7 or not.
If it’s the second I already see him passing by Silver’s room really excited and saying “YOU HAVE A BROTHER!” And zooming off, leaving a very confused Silver and thinking he refers to either Malleus or Sebek.
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technically anon asked first but this ask is much longer so it was awkward to screenshot for an answer. Here is the link the anon used for reference, I obligated as an elderly hater to let you know it's from SAO. Anon's idea is extremely good and we're going to roll with it for this Yutu's Uniqe Magic because you know he was always going to be a little shit.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FOR: Book 7, Lilia's back story, and Silver's unique magic. Please engage with this in mind. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.
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I have a bit of difficult time writing for Lilia given how much older he is than the rest of the cast, so I tend to write his Yuu as being a bit older themselves. Maybe they had an extremely difficult childhood and connected with Lilia over their shared sense of robbed innocence. Whatever it was I think this Yuu has a bit of a fascination with creatures of the night and a lot of their weirdo reputation within their community comes from kids telling each other that Yuu and Yutu are vampires. That makes me tempted to say Lilia! Yutu's real name is Alucard or Sebastian, something vaguely vampire themed.
None of those rumors are helped by Yutu finding himself very lethargic when out in the sunlight or his preference for colder temperatures. From his perspective he can't exactly help being who he is, people should really just get over themselves and let him do his thing. It's not his fault that bats really seem to like him for some reason, the neighbors are exaggerating Mr. Animal Control officer he swears.
Because he prefers to spend his awake hours in the dark, he is waaaaay too comfortable doing things and going places he shouldn't. He's real familiar with all the abandoned buildings and sketchy alleys of your town and has tagged quite a few of them. I like the idea of Lilia! Yutu being really interested in street art and Graffiti. I could see him putting up a bunch of bats everywhere and getting in a bunch of trouble for it. He has very fond memories of Yuu letting him paint murals on portions of their house in an effort to meet him halfway. He might like a good prank but unlike his father Yutu is always pulling his punches with Yuu.
Lilia didn't exactly have a supportive parent while he was growing up, something I feel like Yuu remembers and is very conscious of in their parenting of Yutu. Unfortunately for Lilia they also remember that he had another child and was a lot older than them, something Yutu raises several eyebrows at and causes him to ignore the things Yuu tries to tell him about his "great sense of humor" and "desire for different peoples to learn and grow with one another-" yeah that's great can you back up a bit to where you said he had another family? Yutu goes through life thinking he was the product of an affair Yuu had with a much older, married man who was just trying to feel young again. The amnesia stuff... sometimes he wonders if his dad tried to have Yuu killed. He never says it out loud because something tells him he's wrong, but gut feelings aren't as trustworthy as statistics...
So you can imagine his surprise when he tumbles out of a coffin and is told that his dad was a faerie general bound in service to a family of dragons, veteran of an ancient war, and technically the adoptive father of the Prince of the children of the night and the Prince of the rival human kingdom that killed his best friends. One of which is alive and overwhelmed with joy to meet him. Silver wanted Yutu almost as badly as Lilia and Yuu did so to see him alive and awkwardly squirming in his arms? Silver hasn't cried this much since they lost Lilia and Malleus.
Having a proper older brother, not just the concept, is an extreme change for Yutu. He's used to it just being him and Yuu, and he was sort of expecting Silver to hate him just for existing. Nothing could be further from the truth, Silver wants his younger brother to have the same freedoms he did while attending school but he also respectfully requests that Yutu spend at least some of his free time with him. He tried desperately to find his dreams over the years and was never able to make firm contact, but he doesn't want to pressure Yutu into caring about him. Yutu is didn't realize how badly he wanted other family members until he got to have Silver, he's even willing to take up sword fighting so they can get closer.
Sebek is also overwhelmed with tears upon seeing Lilia! Yutu. He is a bit harsh on him for "not living up to Master Lilia's legacy" because he doesn't know anything about fighting. He does applaud him for his willingness to learn. Yutu thinks Sebek is hilarious and messes with him just as much as Lilia does. Something Sebek is completely willing to let him do because it makes him feel like Lilia never left.
All of the Yutus get to see some of the photographs Yuu left behind, but Lilia! Yutu is especially interested in them. He makes a small photo album of all the ones he can find of his dad, especially ones where he's with Yuu and Silver. He's partially driven by guilt for thinking his father was a terrible person, but really he just wants to feel closer to him. He's half fae, and sure he has Sebek to talk about that with but what he really needs is a connection with his father. Yutu doesn't really care about being a faerie. He just cares about his dad's acceptance, everything else can go hang.
I don't have a name for his unique magic, but going off of anon's idea it allows him to overwhelm his target's mind, forcing them to think about their greatest fears to the point they are convinced they are really going through it. Someone hates spider? All over their face and in their clothes. Crippling fear of failure? Suddenly that emotion is all they can focus on. And if it's a mindless creature like a blot phantom or a monster they become overwhelmed with the sensation that they are unable to breathe and about to die. Yutu can't control the illusion the person experiences so usually he tries not to use it on his classmates.
That changes when he goes into the past. Some rando want to shit talk Yuu? Nightmare. Macho NRC guy wants to rumble? Nightmare. Some random guy jumped out from behind him and yells "BOO!" Nightma-
If Yutu had been just a hair slower he would have been in extreme pain, the dangerous glint in those familiar ruby eyes scream that. The short fae smiles almost cruelly, advancing on him clearly upset even though Yutu has dropped the spell.
"Well now, that's no way to great a senior." Lilia's voice is strangely soothing, it occurs to Yutu that this is probably the first time his father has ever been angry at him and he can't help himself. He laughs,
"Yeah sorry about that." He makes sure to try and be cute about it, which helps to diffuse the tension some what. "You really scared me so it was all I could think to do."
Lilia is very impressed by Yutu's reflexes and control over his unique magic. He is even further impressed by how eager Yutu is to train with Silver. The kid has some real promise and fits into Silver and Sebek's dynamic better than Lilia could have dreamed of. He really hopes the two will benefit from having a relatively normal human friend their age to train with. Maybe he and Yuu will stick around and give him some piece of mind about the kids being in good hands when he's gone.
Yutu hanging around Diasomnia gives him an excuse to chat with Yuu more, not that he exactly needed it. Lilia sort of hates the way he's drawn to you, it feels unfair. Unfair to you to give you hope there could be something more and toy with your affections; unfair to him for life to finally allow him to realize what romantic love is like just in time to have to let it go. There is a bittersweet tone to all of your interactions that his housemates are a bit too socially awkward to pick up on but Cater does.
Yutu is surprised how much he likes Cater, he associates him with a terrifying monster he's had to fight multiple times, not a fun guy who is really determined to help his parents get together. And what's even better he's really chill when Yutu asks for stories about Lilia, he has a lot of them and a completely different perspective than his older brother allowing Yutu to glean some more insight to what his parents might have been thinking in the future.
He finds himself spending a lot of time with the pop music club, not as an official member though he's not great at carrying a tune. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are glad to have another person to chill with, sometimes they'll play music and Yutu will draw something based off whatever noise they made. Cater wants to talk him into doing album art for them... you know if they ever get around to making a recording.
I think Yutu will only tell Lilia who he is if he has no choice. He wants to mess with the timeline as little as possible, but should a monster from his timeline appear in this one, say like an overblotted Yuu another asker was so nice as to bring up, well it's not like he says who he is. He just addresses the monster as his parent and has a very loud meltdown not wanting to fight them again. Something Malleus is more than willing to assist him with.
"Think nothing of it." Malleus's power is truly terrifying, Yutu is torn between sorrow that he wasn't on their side and relief he didn't overblot a second time. "You are Lilia's son yes? That makes you my subject, and a most precious one at that." Not that Yutu has avoided interacting with Malleus exactly, he's just found talking to him exceptionally awkward because well. He's not Yuu, he's very aware of how important Malleus is supposed to be. But the way he's looking at him now makes him think that maybe he was missing out on interacting with another older brother.
Something that's confirmed when he turns to see how big his father's eyes have gotten, the man is shaking as he stares at his face and flicks between him, Malleus, and Silver like he's staring at the most precious pieces of art in the whole universe.
As you brought up Lilia's survival isn't guaranteed, I did not solve that problem at all. I sort of just... wrote that Lilia would age more or less like a normal human and not really be able to use magic on par with what a fae would consider normal but would still be impressive to a human... so while Lilia might be a bit reluctant to show his face in Briar Valley he would still have enough years to have and raise Yutu. He might have actually died around the same time as Yuu if they had lived a normal life.
He is overwhelmingly excited at the thought of having another baby. Lilia might not know what to do with them but he does really like kids. What's harder for him to accept is his relationship with Yuu. Raising a child is something he's done before, being someone's long term partner is not. He is unused to feeling desirable, and unfamiliar with acting on his own desires. Sure Lilia might seem very free spirited, but much of his life has been dictated by a sense of duty. The thought of having something precious to him that chose him specifically of their own free will is... disarming. He's overwhelmed with how helpless you make him feel and how little he despises it.
Yutu's need to be accepted by his father is met and exceeded almost immediately. Lilia wants to cook a big family dinner for Yuu and all of his boys, something that Malleus politely rejects asking if he can instead show his Culinary Crucible skills off to Yutu (it's really so he can make babiest brother promise to never eat anything Paw Paw makes EVER) and it's all so normal Yutu almost forgets that he's listening to a practical god smugly tell him he knows all about edible weeds as his father flies around him cracking jokes and pinching his cheeks. His older brother is asleep on the couch waiting for the food to be done and his precious parent is helping his Uncle Sebek set the table, listening to him sniffle about how beautiful Master Lilia's family is.
Lilia might be practically retired, but his mind is still sharp. The information Yutu is able to pass on to him lands in good hands. When he tucks Yutu into bed that night, long after the boy has gone to sleep so as not to embarrass him he makes sure to take a good long look at the little miracle. He is beyond grateful Yutu exists, not even the Thorn Fairy could have given him a finer blessing (he'll have to make sure to tease you about that later, that's got to be a good pick up line) He will make sure that this risk his son has taken pays off, Lilia Vanrouge wasn't feared for no reason. Something it seems some foolish mortals need reminding of.
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try-set-me-on-fire · 6 months ago
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Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.
Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.
Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”
Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”
Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”
Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”
Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.
“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”
Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.
Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”
“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”
“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”
“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”
Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”
“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”
“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.
“You hypocrite.”
“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”
Tommy squints at him. “No.”
“The Kuckleys?”
“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”
Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”
“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”
Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.
Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!
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displ3azant · 7 months ago
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CURRENTLY ASK-ABLE: - Unpleasant - Infected (Plez oversees the questions, though.)
(Before cut is In-Character.)
Hiii! Helloooo!
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Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.
So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.
Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.
Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.
BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇
(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)
To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.
And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.
Blog-Context
So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...
I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!
MAIN TAGS:
#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks
#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs
#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar
#ooc - Out-of-character post
OTHER TAGS (to be updated):
(nothing yet, hehe)
Blog-Owner
So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!
I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.
My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.
Ask/RP-Boundaries
Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.
ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.
Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.
Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.
Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,
PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!
That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe
Lots of love, - Hex
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strwbivy · 4 months ago
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I LOVE your suga/kage fic so much!! It makes me so inspired to write!! <33 Anyways, can i request a daichi or maybe osamu fic where reader becomes their manager?? How they would react maybe?? Thank you in advance, hope this fits your standards!! <333
MANAGE MY HEART — DAICHI , OSAMU .ᐟ
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synopsis. you unexpectedly become a manager of the roster. you were doing your job great. doing some organizing, and helping the members of the team when they take breaks, but taking his heart wasn't part of the job!
wc. 3.2k words | genre. fluffy | cw/tags. no warnings, no yachi au (sorry!), f!reader, tanaka + noya duo mischief, slow burnish, catching feelings, onigiri lover osamu, food stuff (*´꒳`*)
m.list // hq. masterlist
you've got mail ✉ ! hey anon i just wanna say tysm and omg i inspired you to write?? ACKK you flatter me sm!! anyways i tried to make a longer fic cause most of my fics are short so yea <33
leftover mail ✉ ! i'm still trying to figure out on how i should format my fics since i'm not sure on how to do so andd i kinda got lazy with osamu's part because i just really had to finish this.
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a/n: just a heads up but the readers are in there second-year!
♡—SAWAMURA DAICHI ( 2,040 words , 11,263 chars )
kiyoko being in her third year of high school meaning, she's soon to retire from being a manager. therefore, she needs to find someone that will be able to manage the rowdy behavior of the team.
so then, she began her search for a possible candidate. hinata had give her a list of people who haven't joined any club, if it wasn't for hinata's assistance things would've taken much longer.
and as if the stars were aligned, you were searching for a club to join.
you were approached by a very beautiful girl, asking if you wanted to try out being a manager. and with no hesitance, you accepted the offer and she gave you some important papers and gave the date on when she'll introduce you, before leaving off with thank you.
even though kiyoko had only met you once, she knew you were the perfect one to run as manager. she just hopes that none of the other ehem.. teammates would make you run off.
ʚ 🍓 ɞ
the date of kiyoko introducing you has arrived. you sheepishly followed the manager from behind, feeling a tinge amount of nervousness but at the same time you felt excited because you were getting to experience new things.
once you both have finally reached the entrance of the volleyball gym, kiyoko's voice cut through the air, calling out to those who were engrossed with practicing. she came in the building and you followed in suite. and just a few moments after you entered the gym, you were immediately noticed and got a few people came up to you.
kiyoko then announced that you were going to try out as their manager. then of course you introduced yourself.
"hello! i am uh [name] and i will be trying to be a manager here, and i hope that i'll get along with you all!" you exclaimed, trying to hide slight unease in your voice.
a few people then took turns to introducing themselves to you.
you then started to initiate short conversations here and there. you were getting quite comfortable with everyone until you felt lasers burning the back of your head.
the slight unease made you slightly shiver. you slowly turned your head, only for you to see a bald-man and a shorter one with spiky black hair with a streak of blonde, were staring directly at you with piercing eyes.
you were immediately taken aback, you couldn't help but stare back at them with a weirded-out face.
at that moment, daichi was just talking to kiyoko about the 'new' manager. he was mid sentence until the duo's antics caught his eyes. he excused himself to kiyoko and marched over to the two.
he slowly crept up behind them, and pulled them by the collar at the of their shirts. a sigh is then pulled out of him before he spoke in a deep voice.
"you two! stop staring it's rude!" he states with a frowned expression on his face before he picked them up like a mother cat lifts her kittens, with ease but in a subtle harsh manner.
you dumbfoundedly watched the man pick them up and toss them aside. he lets out a disappointed sigh before turning back to you. daichi then approaches you.
"ahh.. i'm sorry about those two, they're always like that."
he apologizes, bowing his head in a gesture of contrition, while simultaneously scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. but of course as the great captain he is, he breaks through the awkwardness.
"so you're [name] right? i'm sawamura, daichi sawamura." he says, reaching out his hand for a handshake as a warm smile came to his face.
you let out a soft laughter before responding. "well it's nice to meet you sawamura!" you cheerfully say, while you took his hand and shook it well. he then declines the polite formalities with a firm shake of his head.
"there's no need for formalities, you can call me daichi." he says, observing your face as his hand parts ways with yours.
you then nod at him. "so daichi it is then!" you cheerily exclaimed, as you plastered on a big radiant smile that almost outshined the sun.
the way his name rolled of your tongue, has left him flustered. a sense of butterflies in his stomach grew, and the pace of his heart became a tinge faster. huh? that's odd. he thinks to himself, contemplating if it was just the large amount of coffee he consumed this morning.
or was it something else? or something new?
his eyes drifted over to you, and he realized he had been staring without meaning to. "daichi? are you okay?" you asked, having your brow raised. "w-what? o-oh! yea." he replies stuttering, finally being pulled out of his thoughts.
daichi pauses for a moment.
" i'm just.. confused. "
ʚ 🍓 ɞ
after almost one long week of getting convinced by a human tangerine, and attending practice matches, or just practice in general. you were finally confident of yourself to step up and be a manager of the team.
everyone felt happy of course, as they were already comfortable with you from the star.
while this was happening, daichi was starting to have a liking for you. but honestly who wouldn't? not only you had all the characteristics and requirements to be the perfect manager, but you yourself were an absolute delight.
you were well-organized, smart, beautiful, and you cared for each of the team's members even if you showed it an aggressive way it showed care. and the way you carried yourself has him getting more fond of you.
daichi and you, became quite close as days went by. every interaction between the two of you was delightful, and for some reason he feels an overwhelming desire to be closer to you. every time you come up to him happily blabbering, a sense of joy overcomes him. he would talk to you, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.
he would try to say a joke, but it comes off corny. he brings his hand to lightly smack his face out of embarrassment, thinking you wouldn't laugh but unexpectedly he hears a soft giggle.
the embarrassed captain snaps his head to look at you, and he starts to giggle too. a faded-pink tint grew on his face.
but unbeknownst to the two of you, two certain third-years were observing from the side.
sugawara, almost immediately noticed on how daichi acted. he then nudges asahi, pointing to the giggling pair by forwarding his head.
" look asahi, i'm not the only one who's noticed it right? " the setter asked, having a slight smirk on his lips. " hm? oh them? yea of course who wouldn't? he's clearly acting odd. " asahi says, curiously putting his hand under his fuzzy chin as he closely peered to daichi's flushed expression.
as the day ends, daichi waves goodbye to you while you exit the building. daichi was staying a bit later in the court since he was the one who's gonna close the gym, and it just so happens the other third-years stayed late to wait for him.
after waving goodbye to you he turns around, only to be confronted by asahi and sugawara, who both had a smug expression.
"so you and [name] huh?" sugawara teasingly says, followed by quiet snickers from asahi. daichi retracted himself while he gave them a questioning look.
"what? what do you mean 'you' and '[name]' ?" he responds with tone that was mixed with confusion and suspicion.
sugawara then comes closer and walks around him until he reached where his ear was. he leans in and whispers something in his ear.
"tsk tsk, you're not good at hiding secrets captain." he utters in a low voice, causing for daichi to get startled. suga then goes back to asahi's side, while having an amused smile on his face. "ah.. eh.. daichi, it's kinda obvious." says the hair-bunned man, adding a nervous ha-ha at the end of his sentence, hoping daichi wouldn't get mad at him.
daichi's startled expression, is now replaced with a scowl. he folds his arms as he looks away from the two. sugawara chuckles before he karate chops daichi's stomach.
"c'mon daichi! there's no need to get embarrassed!" he says to daichi who was clutching his stomach from the impact of the attack. a cheery laugh escaped suga's lips as he looks to asahi who looked terrified from his aggression.
and from that day on, a little secret was shared between the trio.
ʚ 🍓 ɞ
a few months passed by and karasuno has come out victorious and has successfully qualified for the nationals. and just before the nationals started, you had the idea to give each of the team's members a little gift, a lucky charm keychain!
you then spent a few days making the charms, making sure each keychain was unique as the person. you carefully made each of it beautifully decorated. and as you were finished making with someone's charm you moved on to dachi's. and an idea popped through your head.
recently, daichi has started to give you an itchy feeling, but not in a bad way. but you find yourself getting increasingly drawn to him, his presence stirred a fluttery feeling in your heart, and warmth to your chest.
the itch grew day by day as you spent time with him. the itchy feeling was unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.
as the sensation became more overwhelming, you became more aware of your growing feelings for him. every time you're near him, the feeling becomes more intense. he then would question you about your nervous state but, you'd just say your just feeling uneasy.
coming back to when you were making daichi's charm, you had decided to add something to it. just to make a lil' more special than the rest.
the day of the trip to tokyo for the nationals then came, and you've decided to give it just right before the bus sets off. one by one, you gave each of them the lucky charm. they all appreciated the gift and felt more motivated than ever.
once you have given all of them your present, there was one more you haven't given.
you made a bee-line to where daichi was. your land lightly tapped his shoulder, causing for him to turn around. "oh [name]! is everyone ready to go?" he asks, having a slight excitement when mentioning your name.
"yup! so uh, i just wanted to give everyone something and here's yours." you then presented the cute orange and black colored charm on your small palms. daichi utters a gasp of surprise as his eyes sets on the gift.
"oh wow! you really made one for the whole team?" he enthusiastically speaks while he takes it from your palm. just as he was about to say his thanks, the voice of coach ukai interrupts him. you both then chuckle and head to bus.
small giggles were heard from sugawara as he sees the specific pair, but he was silence, with one look on daichi's expression.
daichi then sits down beside sugawara, the bus then started. he then looks down on his palm that held the lucky charm, his eyes observes each of the beads and he notices something. a small heart charm was in between on some beads, he then feels sense of shock.
he then asks for suga's charm, and he checks it. no heart charm. afther then he checks asahi's who was just infront of him, no heart charm. he then tries to take a peek with the others charm, and once again, there's no sight of the charm that he has.
a warm feeling arises on his face, and his heart thumped a bit faster. sugawara who was confused, on why daichi was quite literally 'inspecting' the other's charms notices daichi's face and that his gaze was fixated on his charm and he sees it.
a small smirk comes to his lips. "hmm someone's feeling quite special." he mumbles to the captain, his tone being an amused one.
his cheeks had a tint of pink, and a smile that reached to his ears.
daichi then lets out a low chuckle before speaking.
"yea, i guess i am a bit special."
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♡—MIYA OSAMU ( 1,243 words , 6851 chars )
when you became inarizaki's new manager, osamu never really noticed you.
your presence was almost a blur to him, but it all became a clarity like going from a blurry image to sharp clear image, when you had brought those delicious homemade onigiris as a thank you gift for welcoming you to the team.
as soon his eyes set on the plate you held, he lost his self-control and hungrily grabbed an onigiri instinctively. the unexpected gesture took you by surprise as you looked at him dazed.
osamu single-mindedly, he licks his lips his lips in anticipation, while his mouth watered at the sight. slowly but surely, he takes a munch out of it. and oh my god, was he not astonished by the taste. another bite followed by another, his eyes waters at how savory it is!
with every chew and chomp he takes, his heart throbs with delight.
he savors each bite he takes, and after a few chomps, he finishes eating. he lets out a huff of satisfaction before turning to you who had a shocked face.
"these are amazing,"
"did ya' makes them yourself?" he asks in an unconcerned tone, as if he didn't just ravish the onigiri in just a minute.
even though you were just in a state of shock, you immediately beam up at his compliment, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. you nodded, saying,
"ahh yea I did! i'm glad you enjoyed them." you answered as some chimed in their agreement, compliment and praising the delectability of the homemade snacks.
the others then continued to enjoy the onigiris, as osamu inhales the aroma coming from the others' snacks. as he relished under the addictive smell, he pondered about on what ways you made the delectable onigiris.
he pulls himself from reality as he thoughts of a question, but to his surprise, you beat him to it.
"do you enjoy cooking, osamu? that's your name right?" you asked curiously, and osamu nodded, having a slight smile to his face as he replied,
"i do actually, i've always got a' passion for food and cooking, er.. mostly food. i also love creating new dishes and experimenting with different flavors and textures. do you do too?" he admits and expresses his passion for food as he asked you a question back.
"yes! absolutely!" you nodded your head enthusiastically as your eyes sparkled with interest when you finally found someone whose interest is also cooking.
the both of you then have a conversation about foods, cookery, and stuff that are related to those topics. he replies with a thrilled voice whenever you would ask him a question, and vice versa.
as you and osamu animatedly talk about cooking, a couple of the other theme members chimed in their own experiences observations, sharing a few embarrassing stories here and there.
"here i have one, 'tsumu 'burnt' cup noodles, i donno what came to his mind that he thought he had ter' fry it." he lets out a bried chuckle, while his twin immediately retorts back having a nasty glare as the rest of the team shared a loud laughter, poking fun at the embarrassed atsumu while they were at it.
osamu's chuckle faded into a smile, he then turned to look at you. an unfamiliar giddy feeling suddenly reached to his chest, he scrunches his eyes at the feeling, he tries to ignore it, but the more he glanced at you, the more the feeling lasted.
"huh."
ʚ 🍓 ɞ
because of the you and his shared interest, you both engaged in conversations. the both of you shared ideas about cooking and giving recipes to each other occasionally.
during one of your conversations, an idea sparked up in your mind.
"oohh osamu! i should bring some of my homemade foods maybe for a week? you could be my little taste tester, hehehe." you spoke excitedly, while osamu, without hesitation, fully agreed to the idea.
"sure, i do want to taste those delicious onigiris again." a drool trickled down his chin as he envisioned the well-missed food. you laughed at the salivating man, gosh, he couldn't just wait to have a snack of those onigiris once again!
ʚ 🍓 ɞ
in the first day, you gave him five of those onigiris he dearly craved for. and he gobbled them all up, carefully savoring each snack. seeing him truly enjoy them made you want to push your efforts to making more.
and so, in the second day, you made yakitori, grilled chicken skewers that were marinated in a variety of seasonings. and without any doubt, he eats the skewers with teary eyes from how good they tasted.
he's so gosh damn in love with you your cooking, the way he would outright do anything for you it.
for the next two days, you had cooked him mouthwatering foods like, mentaiko—spicy cod roe and okonomiyaki—a japanese savory pancake. the flavoring of each dish has him growing more fond and fond of you. his taste buds savored the flavoring, and your cooking always fails to not make his day.
and for the last day, it being the very last day of him being as your taste tester, you decided to make it a little extra special.
ʚ 🍓 ɞ
the bell loudly rings, finally! he'll finally get to eat some of your delectable homemades. he knows today will be the last day, he's quite upset, but he also feels glad that he got to eat so much of your delicious cooking for a week!
he exits out of the classroom, making a beeline to the canteen while he pondered and wondered what you had made him today. when he reaches the canteen, he spots you sitting on your and his usual spot.
a light smile appears on his features, as he skips through the busy crowds of students.
"[name]! whatcha' made this time?" he asks excitedly while he sits in front of you. his face visibly looks excited, awaiting to find out what you made him, making you chuckle before speaking,
"okay so, since it's the last day of you being my taste tester and stuff, i decided to make a..." you paused your sentence, reaching for something beside you.
you proudly set a bento box on the table. "bento box!" you happily said, as you awaited for his reaction.
osamu stared at the bento box with widened eyes before slowly taking it and took a short glance to you as he opened it.
a surprised gasp falls from his mouth when he completely takes off the box's lid, revealing a variety of homemade food. "aahh yes! thank yer' so much!" he says as he straight away digs into the food. you almost feel worried for him when he chokes on something when he takes a spoonful bite.
with each bite, he feels a sense of delight. his taste buds danced the marvelous taste. he then pulls up his head and looks to you with begging eyes.
"g-god, this is so good! please [name] let me be your taste tester for longer!" he exclaims, feeling a bit embarrassed, but he honestly didn't care at this moment.
your face heated at his comment, you can't tell if it's from embarrassment or something about the way he pleaded.
but nonetheless, you hesitantly nodded your head shyly. the man then happily smiles, gulping the food he chewed before speaking.
"i wanna be yer' taste tester forever."
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copyright © strwbivy ↣ do not copy, translate or repost.
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lionhanie · 5 months ago
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han taesan ; back 2 u (part one)
you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime
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this is part one of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!
fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au
...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3
word count: 1.7k
warnings: cursing, alcohol mention and usage, party mentions, TAESAN IS A BIG FLIRT, reader lowkey doesn't like him lol
a/n: fuckboy taesan i won;t U so bad .. . .. </3
likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!
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You would’ve never expected yourself to be involved with Han Taesan, well-known on campus equally for his pretty face and his ability to have someone new under his arm every week. Your school wasn’t necessarily huge, but it was impressive to think that most students had some inkling about who Han Taesan was.
His existence frustrated you deeply, actually. There wasn't any actual reason to hate him per se, but it was aggravating to think that some people just have so much going for them. Not only was he undeniably attractive to anyone who had eyes, he was also known for his unmistakable musical talent and a captivating charm that drew people in immediately. It’s almost comical the way you could be minding your business in class only to overhear a group of girls a couple seats over talking about how handsome Taesan was at a party last weekend or who his most recent fling could be.
Despite everything you’ve heard people say concerning him, you found it hard to believe he was such a player. Sure, he may have some good looks, but he looks… Innocent, in a way. Harmless.
The first time you’d interacted was in the library. You’ve noticed him in there on various occasions while you were working, but never paid much mind to it, given that he’d only look around the bookshelves for a couple minutes before seeing himself out. Taesan was standing right in front of the library’s help desk, where you worked for a couple hours in between classes. “By any chance, would I be able to check out this book?” He’s holding it out to you, and you’re surprised to find that he’s renting out one of your favorite novels. 
“Yup, I’m just going to need your name and student ID. You can only get it for four days at a time, but you’re free to come back and renew the book if you need more time with it,” You type away at the keyboard in front of you, opening up the form you needed to fill out for book rentals. “That’s a good book, by the way.” Your small talk is unnecessary, but your job was too boring not to make conversation with the few people that actually used your services. 
“Yeah, I’ve been eyeing it for a while,” He’s smiling as he takes his card out from the back of his phone case, sliding it to you on the counter. “Ah, my name is Han Taesan. And here’s my ID.” Picking it up, you notice that the name he’d just given you didn’t match the one on his ID. Han Dongmin? You were almost sure this was Taesan, though. Sensing your confusion, he chuckles as he moves to explain the mismatching names. “Most people know me as Taesan, not Dongmin. It’s just a nickname, really. Does it matter what name I use to check out the book?” He tilts his head as he looks back up at you, waiting for your response. 
“No, not really. It’ll be linked to your ID anyways, so it should be fine.” You scan his ID on the card reader next to you, allowing you to finish up the form splayed out on the monitor. Taesan drums his fingers on the counter, glancing around the near-empty library; he’s humming the melody to a song you don’t know. “You’re all set, Dongmin.” You slide his receipt and a piece of paper telling him when he needs to return the book under the cover before giving it back to him. 
He’s caught off-guard at hearing his real name come from your mouth, but he flashes you a grin regardless. “Have we met somewhere before…” Taesan’s sentence trails off until he notices the name tag pinned to your shirt, “...Y/N?” 
This time, you’re the one caught off-guard. “Sorry, is it better for me to call you Taesan?” You question. He’s probably only striking up a conversation because he doesn’t like people calling him by his real name— that probably explains why people call him Taesan instead. “And no, I don’t think we have.”
“Nah, keep calling me Dongmin. It sounds nice coming from you.” He’s leaning on the counter now, close enough for you to notice the luxurious-smelling cologne coming off of him. “You’ll be one of the few people who call me that, you know.” His comment makes you roll your eyes playfully, scoffing at the way he’s making it sound like a special honor for you to be able to call him that. “Are you free this weekend?” 
The clicking of your keyboard stops as you finally look at him properly, feeling slightly bashful at the sudden question paired with his intense stare. “...Why do you ask?”  Your initial perceptions of Taesan quickly dissolve, as you now realize that this is the type of person he really is. Looks really can be deceiving. He smirks at the expression on your face, happy with himself knowing he has such an effect on someone he just met.
He slides his phone over to you, just like he had done with his student ID just moments ago. You take a peek at it, curious about its contents, only to see a blank “New Contact” screen waiting for you. “Number?” He asks for a girl’s number… Like this? It irritates you to think that he’s probably used this exact sequence numerous times without fail, and now he’s here using it on you while you’re at work.
Hesitating briefly, you pick up the phone and type in your info— You hate how easily you give in to him, almost wishing you played a bit harder to get, but it’s hard to say no to the handsome face of Han Taesan directly asking you for your number. “I’ll text you, yeah?” 
“Okay,” You reply, completely baffled at the interaction that just unfolded all in the span of less than ten minutes. Taesan slips his phone into his pocket and tucks the book he rented under his arm, giving you a small smile as he steps away from the desk. As you watch him walk out the sliding doors, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Next to you, your phone screen lights up. 
4 new messages from “Unknown Number”! it’s dongmin [address] come saturday if ur free, starts at 10 i’d love to talk to u again, y/n :-) 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
Just this once, you’re grateful that Han Taesan is so widely known, because it was surprisingly easy to find friends who were already planning on attending Saturday’s party. You were at ease knowing you’d at least have Riwoo and Sungho to fall back on if the nerves suddenly took over. 
You wish you could say that you debated on not coming, but that’d be a complete lie, because you’re currently standing in the middle of Riwoo and Sungho’s shared apartment throwing back shots to pregame. “It’s been a while since you came out with us Y/N! What’s the occasion?” Sungho randomly interrogates you while refilling the empty shot glasses on the counter. 
Biting your lip, you contemplate your response: Should you lie and say you just felt like partying this weekend? You’re well aware of the fact that the pair of roommates in front of you are friends with Taesan… So it wouldn’t be weird to mention him now, right? But then again, his parties are huge. Chances are, he invites random strangers to them all the time, so there’s no need for you to act like your interaction at the library was anything special— You’re about to answer when your phone screen flashes on the kitchen island.
 
2 new messages from “Han Dongmin”! i’ll see u later ya? ik u won’t leave me hanging again y/n ;P 
The notification exhilarates you. Was he looking forward to seeing you tonight? It annoys you slightly to think that Taesan knew you’d show up, even if you’d never confirmed the matter. “Ah… I didn’t know you were friends with Taesan, Y/N!” Riwoo reads the text off your phone from over your shoulder as he moves to pick up one of the shots Sungho just poured. Guess he chose the answer to your internal turmoil for you. “Now that I think of it, how come we’ve never gone to any of his parties together before?” 
Mirroring his actions, you take a glass for yourself and finish it in one clean gulp, wincing at the burn it sends down your throat. “Hm, I don’t think I’d call us friends. He asked for my number at the library the other day.” You correct him, explaining the encounter you shared with Taesan two days prior. 
Being the last to take their shot, Sungho hums in understanding across from you. You can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to actually get to know the kind of person Han Taesan is; Would he maintain the tension with his flirty remarks? Or is he just a normal college student that doesn’t actually live up to the reputation he’s made for himself around campus? 
“So, Y/N, do you think he’s hot?” Sungho blurts out, making you choke on your spit. Riwoo giggles from beside you, patting your back as you finish your coughing fit. “I mean, we don’t care if you think he is. Taesan’s a handsome guy. Hell, half the student population probably thinks so too!” Sungho’s contagious laughter fills the kitchen, making you and Riwoo laugh along with him. 
“Well duh, why wouldn’t I think he’s hot?” There’s a smile on your face as you admit your attraction to the boy in question. Han Taesan is definitely intriguing. The alcohol feels like it’s finally made its way through your system, the room feeling a bit warmer than it was earlier. The three of you didn’t drink much; just enough to give you a little more courage to go to the party without feeling too nervous. You take a glance at the clock on their microwave: 10:43PM. “Shouldn’t we get going?”
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taglist: @minwrlds @luna2nite @taesancore @taesanmoon @helpsplease @taylorluvation (send an ask / comment if you want to be added hehe)
© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!
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xoxo-ren-xoxo · 6 months ago
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A Popstar Grian AU - Ari AU (Part One)
Or, @angeart and I put Grian through a lot of pain for no good reason.
Hello! Like two people showed interest in my post about Ari AU, thus here we are. This is not really a 'fic', but it isn't a short summary either. Let your mind go wild. Let your imagination be free. Read my words, boy.
This is Part One. Part Two is here. Part Three is here. Part Four is here. Part Five is here. The tag for this is #ari au.
But before we start, some introductory things you should know.
This is scarian. Don't read if you do not like scarian.
Grian uses he/she pronouns and is transfem genderqueer, I tend to default to she as it helps differentiate her from other characters a lot, but I mix it up.
I somewhat based this AU on attitudes towards celebrities / stars from the 2000s - present day, so this can be read as a period piece in some ways... This concept started with the song 'The Fear' by Lily Allen. I recommend giving it a listen.
This is the "real world", so no hybrids, no respawn, no "code", etc.
CONTENT WARNINGS for this Part: stalking, physical assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, mentions of vomit, hospitals, me autismposting about music genres.
You can always stop reading! The AU starts out pretty tame and gradually gets, well, worse. But I promise it has a hopeful ending! Eventually!
(also please ask me questions, send ideas, reblog, comment, etc. because I love this AU a lot) (and thank you to Ange for enabling me and adding amazing scenes to this au)
Album One: ‘Sunshine Sedative’
Grian, better known by her stage name ‘Ari’, is a popular singer-songwriter embarking on a world tour to promote her latest album, Sunshine Sedative. The album is indie pop-y and bright, exploring themes of romance, self-empowerment, and subtle references to gender and sexuality. Grian’s style on-stage is hyper-feminine, flashy, and fashionable. He’s known to be a bit prickly, demanding, and stubborn off-stage, slow to warm up to the people around him.
The tour bus carries both Grian and her key crew. Pearl (marketing, PR and organisational work), Impulse (costumes and tech), and Mumbo (tech assistant and main contact for Grian’s manager). Though Grian likes to self-manage, preferring to do her own make-up and plan the set-lists for her own shows. 
Recently, Grian has been running into some issues with stalker fans and online haters, receiving some threatening messages on social media. Mumbo tries not to let him doomscroll on his phone too much, even going so far as to confiscate the phone while on tour. This is Grian’s biggest tour- no one was prepared for her to become a star or “indie darling” type- and the fans are… a bit crazy.
After the anonymous threats, Grian agrees to get a bodyguard. This is where Scar comes in. At first, Scar is a little terrified. The company he works for advised him not to annoy or upset Grian, and to always call her Miss Ari. Never disagree with her or do anything he isn’t contracted to do. 
Scar throws all of this out of the window pretty fast. Yes, Grian is especially difficult when they first meet, but Scar can tell it’s because Grian is stressed. About the tour, about the fame, about the threats. 
A show results in Grian getting a sore throat, and Scar offers her some tea with honey, rambling on about how his mother used to make it for him when he was sick. Grian begrudgingly takes the tea, and tells Scar to just call her Grian from then on. She’s not a fan of the blurring of her private and public life.
Eventually, Grian gets bored enough to rant to Scar about how Mumbo won’t let him use his phone anymore, and Scar offers to sneak it back to him. They have a laugh scrolling through celebrity news and playing silly games together. Then they get found out and both get a stern talking to from Mumbo and Impulse. (Pearl laughs at them in the background).
As Grian’s tour starts selling out, more tour dates are added, extending their time on the road. Scar continues to sneak Grian’s phone to her, pushing her to have fun rather than scroll through hate messages. It seems like a peak moment for Grian, delighted by the idea that she has so many fans, and beginning to develop a bit of a crush on Scar. Grian even starts acting a little nicer.
Tabloids and Stalkers
The fame comes with more caveats than Grian anticipated. One day, while Scar and Grian are reading some dumb article on Grian’s phone, she receives a random message from a burner account. It’s a picture of Grian, through a hotel window, half dressed. Grian recognises the hotel, one they stayed in a few nights ago just to get away from the tour bus.
Someone knew she would be there. Knew what room she would be staying in. There is a vaguely ominous / threatening message attached. It makes Grian never want to step foot outside again. It makes her feel sick. Suddenly she can’t focus on anything around her.
He has a panic attack. 
Later, as Grian is pacing the floor of the bus, he’s told not to make an announcement about the stalker. She decides herself not to go to the police, and, after some hesitation, not to cancel the tour. They can’t disappoint all those people. 
Over the next few shows, Grian gets closer to Scar. Both because they get along so well, and because Scar is there to protect her. He's clumsy and funny and once he starts talking about something he likes, it’s hard to get him to stop. Grian finds him incredibly endearing and, more importantly, incredibly safe. 
But things are bad. Grian can’t even go to a public bathroom without Scar checking to make sure no one is waiting for her. He feels constantly watched, constantly on-edge, constantly afraid. The paparazzi don’t exactly make it easier.
Tabloids love Ari. She’s a superstar, a real diamond in the rough who came from nothing. They’re obsessed. Anything she does in public can make a tabloid front page. As the tour goes on and her songs rocket up the charts, it only gets worse. The flashes of the cameras have started to scare him.
Scar is an angel, dealing with the paparazzi professionally and confidently. He stands in front of Grian and chases the cameras off. But it feels like they can’t go anywhere. They can’t do anything. Even when they stop at another hotel, Grian can’t tell if the people outside are stalkers or journalists.
The pictures on the tabloid front pages are no longer stunning shots from the shows, but rather blurry snaps of Grian trying to escape the cameras. Images of Grian, wide-eyed and scared by the surprise of a camera flash, before she could put on a fake smile. Grian, through a window in the parked tour bus, with teary eyes. Even private moments are no longer private.
Media outlets start to pay for more intimate photos- anything the journalists might get fired for trying to snap themselves. It gives the stalkers (there are certainly multiple, now) more incentive. Grian keeps the curtains closed in every building he visits, and draws the tiny blinds on the bus. 
Relationship Goals?
In the meantime, Grian’s crush on Scar is getting more obvious, but she’s afraid to say anything. Dragging Scar into this, with all the harassment he would face if they revealed they were together, isn’t what Grian wants. She flinches away when Scar offers a comforting touch, not wanting to risk a photograph. 
Scar is the one, then, who takes the initiative. He sits with Grian on her little fold-out bed at the back of the tour bus, all curtains drawn and the door closed. He holds her close and tells her firmly that no one is going to see them here. They're traveling at 50mph on a motorway and no one can even see through the windows anyway. And that's maybe just enough for Grian to let himself lean into Scars touch. Admit his feelings. 
There’s a sense of shame he's carrying with them. He shouldn't have fallen for his bodyguard- someone who has to stay with him, contractually. She tries to say as much, going on and on about all the terrible risks Scar is bringing to himself by dating her, but Scar cuts Grian off by kissing her, anyway.
As soon as the media gets a hint of the relationship, things seem to go downhill. Diehard fans don’t react kindly to Grian’s choice of man, especially the ones who want to have her for themselves. Someone throws something at Scar when Grian is leaving a show, hitting him on the head. It isn’t a bad injury, but it bleeds a lot, and Grian only feels worse about it when Scar insists he’s okay.
Actual Bodily Harm
The fans seem to get more… intense. Stalking and threats of harm increase, while the fans' behaviour at shows seems to get worse. As the tour is nearing its final few weeks, people start to throw things onto the stage. The first time it happens, Grian cuts the set short without anyone really noticing. The next time, someone throws a glass bottle, and she walks off. 
He tries not to make a big fuss about it, simply leaving without playing a single song. She feels awful, of course, for leaving the normal fans without a show. Perhaps they should refund the tickets, or something. She doesn’t even notice the glass shards in her foot until Scar points them out, horrified. 
Pearl convinces Grian to take a picture of the injury and make a PSA post on social media. Even when the adrenaline wears off, Grian’s resulting breakdown seems subdued. 
No one throws anything at the next few shows, except for a trans pride flag. Grian wears it as a cape, and feels amazing, for once, hearing the cheers and screams of joy at the gesture. She loves that she can be a symbol of hope and love for so many people. It’s even enough of a boost to get him acting more like himself again in private: mischievous, bright, and creative. 
It is near the end of the tour when things go completely, utterly wrong again. Grian and the crew all go to a bar after a show, to celebrate the last week of the tour. Three more shows, and then it’s over. Grian is in somewhat normal clothes, compared to his usual getup, but still puts on his persona just in case they've been followed by the paparazzi (again).
Everyone's having a nice time, drinking a little and hanging out. As always, it is nice to be getting away from the bus. Pearl and Impulse buy far too many shots, much to Mumbo’s dismay. Grian laughs and jokes and raises her voice, not caring if she’s croaky the next day. 
He doesn't notice someone watching him from across the room. Doesn't notice them slip something into her drink when she goes up to the bar. She pays for another pint, and they strike up conversation. Giddily, she chats with them, rambling about how good life has suddenly become. As he sips his drink, he doesn’t register how focused on him they are. How their dark eyes don’t leave him once.
It’s fine, until she stumbles, on the way back to the booth everyone's sitting at, and the stranger catches her before she can fall with strong arms. They're talking, but Grian isn't really listening. She’s nodding along and mumbling about needing to get back to the booth. Back to her friends.
It feels wrong. They keep hold of her shoulders. They're saying something about getting her home safe. Something about how they've been waiting for this…
He realises what’s happening far too late. Panic clutches her chest for a split second. Long enough for him to call out for Scar. She's already being manhandled out of the door before Scar comes to her rescue. Thankfully, by a miracle, close enough to hear the cry for help.
Grian knows something happens to the stranger, because they're on the floor and bleeding. Voices buzz, muffled, around Grian. There are more hands on her. She doesn’t like it. Her head hurts. Scar’s hand is bloody as he hugs her. Grian passes out.
Hospital Visit One
The crew, quite obviously, take Grian to the hospital. He was drugged, and it’s clear what the perpetrator wanted to do. It shakes them all, left wondering whether the creep knew who Grian was, or just randomly targeted a drunk stranger on a night out. Either way, none of them want to go near a bar any time soon.
On the way to the hospital, the press capture pictures of Grian unconscious, or half-awake with no awareness, and by the time the morning rolls in, the papers are already speculating about addiction and ‘gone wild’ narratives. When Grian wakes up, still slightly delirious, he's told, hesitantly, by Pearl, that they have to release a statement soon in order to clear his name and control the narrative. Grian can’t find it in herself to cry about what happened.
Before any statements are made, the police come to talk to Grian. They arrested the perpetrator and searched their house, not that it’ll result in much. They show Grian pictures of rope, duct tape, knives, and a poster from her tour. 
Feeling numb, Grian takes a moment to go throw up in a bin, then tells her team she wants to make a statement now. She wants it recorded, as she is, now. Pearl and Mumbo try to argue that it really isn't a good idea, without a script and looking… bad, but Scar and Impulse back Grian’s choice. Reluctantly, Mumbo grabs one of the nice cameras from his car- the bus was far too conspicuous to park at a hospital- and they record.
They don't know what Grian’s going to say, but, put basically, the video explains everything that has happened- from the stalkers to the glass to the drugging- and apologises to the fans who did nothing wrong. And even the fans who just wanted to know some gossip, because they weren't really to blame. Then she announces that she's cancelling the rest of the tour. 
Mumbo shuts off the camera. Everyone apart from Scar is a bit shocked. Incredulous. Shouldn’t they talk about this? Is it worth it to cancel at the last hurdle? Scar cuts off the protests, pointing out how insensitive it is to try and make Grian perform after everything. Grian stays quiet as Scar somewhat lectures the others. It’s a rambling mess of an argument, but it works. They apologise. 
The statement video is posted online, and Grian is left to rest. Scar remains at his side.
Once Grian is checked over and discharged, they get back to the bus fast. She retreats to her closed-off space at the back of the bus, telling everyone to get on with their jobs. Once she's alone, she replays the images the police showed her in her mind. He thinks about what could have happened. He thinks about the stranger's hands on his shoulders and at his hips. She remembers that she started out just wanting to make music, and she cries.
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vodika-vibes · 6 months ago
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okay this follower event is intriguing so I’mma try something👀 okay so. I’m thinkin about an Apocalypse AU with Fox. romance for the genre because you know it gotta be romance with Foxy, & girl you can go WILD with the plot, I give you free reign. unless you don’t want free reign, I can just send another ask. but for now BE FREE🦅
Woe To The People
Summary: According to everything you read as a child, the end of the world was supposed to be the end of the story. It’s a shame that none of the stories tell what happens to the people left behind.
Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader
Word Count: 2230
Prompt: Apocalypse AU
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: You said be free, and so I was free. You know how in some farming sims, the end of the world happened, and then people have to recover. That's what this is. I could have gone with apocalypse heavy, but I wanted to do apocalypse light. Please let me know if you don't like it. The title came from a CamiCat song called Woe To The People Of The Order. Also, I'm limited on how long I can sit at the computer right now. I...hurt my foot pretty badly and I can't elevate it properly from the computer, lol.
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You were a child when the world ended.
You were barely 9 summers old on the day that the blue sky burned red, and acid fell from the sky. You managed to find shelter in a skyscraper, climbing higher and higher up the building as the acid water flooded the rivers and the streets.
And you refused to leave, even when the other people you were seeking shelter with did.
It took almost a week for the flood waters to recede. A week where you survived off of snacks and soda from the vending machines. A week where you didn’t have anyone to talk to, where all you could do is watch the burning sky through darkened windows and watch the flood waters slowly recede.
There was no internet, no TV, and your only source of information came from a small battery powered radio you found in the janitor’s closet. And it was from there that you learned what was going on.
You learned about the natural disasters that ravaged the world. Massive wildfires that raged for days, floods powerful enough to wash away buildings, sinkholes opening in places where it shouldn’t be possible, earthquakes destroying entire cities, storm systems creating tornadoes in countries that have never had one before.
And when the flood waters receded enough for you to leave the building, you ran home. Though you already knew what you were going to find when you arrived. Your home destroyed, completely flooded out, and your family, like every other family in your neighborhood, lay dead.
Burned almost beyond recognition.
At barely 9 years old, this should have been the end of your story. You were not big enough to fend for yourself, haven’t learned enough about the way the world works to even consider it.
But you’ve always been lucky.
Several days later, after returning to the sky scraper because where else could you go, a survivor found you.
A firefighter, to be specific.
His name was Jango Fett, and he told you about the safe haven that his family set up, where they have food, clean water, and doctors. He praised you for surviving as long as you did on your own, calling you clever and resourceful as he scooped you into his strong arms and carried you down the stairs and to the massive fire engine that somehow survived the floods.
He passed you up to another man, who settled you on top of the engine and offered you a proper sandwich while he covered you with a reflective blanket, and murmured assurances that you’re going to be fine, that everything’s going to be okay.
There were fewer survivors than you expected, as men and women trek out of the nearby buildings in groups of two or three.
And then you heard Jango call out that that’s everyone, and the truck started to move, slowly pushing through the debris covering the roads. Miles, the firefighter looking after you, adjusted the blanket so you couldn’t see the bodies strewn across the road.
Jango brought the survivors to the Mereel Compound, a massive group of buildings set up on top of, and around, a dam. The reservoir was empty, and Miles explained that the reservoir had been emptied before the flood, so you had nothing to worry about.
After that, you were sent to a creche, a place for young children to receive the care and education they needed to be productive members of society. Of course, the education was a bit different than what you were used to. But at the same time, you realized that you probably didn’t need to know what a noun was in this new reality of yours.
So you settled yourself in to learn what you needed to survive in this new world.
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It’s been over a decade since the day the world ended, and very little has changed. Oh, sure, there haven’t been any other massive storms since the original ones, but it’s still a struggle to survive.
Enough of a struggle, that you had to move out of the Mereel Compound. You ended up in a building that used to be a mall. And, with help from other young people, you managed to turn it into something like an apartment complex.
Your job in the complex is to ensure that the water wheel, which provides electricity to the homes here, remains in working order.
It’s not a hard job, but it is a very physical job.
In fact, that’s what you’re currently working on. With a thick pair of gloves to protect you from the acid that lingers in the water. The filters do a good job in making sure that most of the acid doesn’t make it this far, but they’re not perfect.
The water needs to go through a seven point treatment before it can be ingested safely. Luckily, over the last decade, the survivors did manage to perfect that technology.
You look up as the door to the water room clicks open, “How’s are the water wheels?” A voice asks from the door. It’s a voice you’re intimately familiar with, seeing as it belongs to your boyfriend.
“In perfect working order,” You reply as you straighten, and stretch your arms over your head to work the knots out of your back, “I’m probably going to have to take water wheel 3 out of commission for a couple of hours to replace a part, but I want to have all of the parts on hand before I start.”
You turn to face Commander Fox properly.
Commander Fox is one of Jango’s many children, and is the man responsible for this complex. He’s a fine leader, you think, quick thinking and decisive. Not to mention protective of the people under his care.
He’s also the love of your life, so you might be biased.
“It’s not like you to check on the water wheels personally,” You note lightly as you pull your gloves off and set them in the solution that keeps the acid from eating through them, “Something wrong?”
“Thorn is ill, so I took his route.”
“That’s unfortunate,” You murmur, “Nothing serious, I hope?”
“Just a stomach bug, but better to isolate him rather than risk everyone else getting sick.” Fox allows, he moves to the side as you step out of the room, before he follows you and waits for you to lock the door behind you, “You haven’t seen anything unusual lately, have you?”
“In what way?”
He folds his arms over his broad chest, “I got a message from Wolffe-”
“From the forest compound?” You ask, after thinking a moment.
“Yeah, apparently there have been raids on the compound, and I’m...concerned.”
“Raids? All of the Compounds from the desert to the mountains belong to the Mereel/Fett clan.”
“Hence my concern.” Fox rolls his shoulders and for a moment you see just how exhausted he is, “Cody’s putting together a group to investigate, but if there are raiders out there-” He exhales sharply through his teeth.
He doesn’t need to put word to his worry.
You’re hardly stupid, your expertise with water and the filtration system makes you valuable. And a target for anyone with malignant motives.
“I’m giving you a guard detail.” Fox says, “And restricting your movements to within the compound.” He drops his hand from the back of his neck, “Your apartment is on a wall, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
He sighs heavily, and you feel guilty for a moment. But then, you didn’t ask for a wall apartment, you were assigned it. “It’s fine, you can crash in my room.”
“That’s hardly proper, Commander.” You tease lightly.
“Your safety is more important to me than propriety.” Fox counters, completely serious, “The alternative is sending you back to the Mereel Compound.”
“Please don’t.”
He chuckles, “That’s what I thought.” He motions for you to follow him, and you easily fall into step next to him, and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, “Besides, it’s not like you’ve never crashed in my apartment before. Or even in my bed.”
You elbow him, “This situation is a bit different, Fox. There isn’t a small difference between me sleeping with you because your my boyfriend, and me sleeping in your apartment because I need a protective detail.”
He leads you through the bustling halls, and you feel a soft surge of delight when you see that the market is bustling with activity. Only a few years ago, this scene would have been impossible.
How far you’ve all come since the world ended.
Fox’s hand on your elbow encourages you to keep moving, as he guides you through the winding streets, until he unlocks the door to his apartment.
Fox’s apartment is bigger than all of the other apartments in the compound, with good reason, as a whole quarter of the room is filled with the computers that connect him with his brothers, and father. Not to mention the dozens of outposts that dot the country.
He shuts the door on the working half of his apartment and leads you to the living half of his apartment.
And you immediately head to the window, peering out at the red sky and over the wall that separated the compound from the wildlife. You hear some movement behind you and you turn to watch Fox remove his armor.
It’s leather mostly, reminding you of the old westerns your dad used to watch when he was still alive. Still, it offers a fair amount of protection against anyone who might want to hurt him, so you’re happy he has it.
He focuses his gaze on you, and a smile, soft and warm, graces his tired face. “Do you have any idea how stunning you look when you’re framed by the sky?”
Your face heats, and you turn away from him, “You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”
He laughs softly and walks over to you, his arms sliding around your waist, “Then I clearly need to tell you more often.”
You face him again, your hands settling lightly against his chest and smoothing the thin shirt he wears under his uniform, “I know you think it, Foxy.” You tease, “I know you, after all.”
Slowly he leans in and presses his forehead against yours, his gaze locked with your own. “You know, you could just move in with me. That would make everything easier.”
“We’ve had this conversation-”
“And you never think I’m serious, but I am. I want you to move in with me.”
“Ask me again after this crisis.” You counter.
Fox sighs and lifts his hands to cup your face, “We’re not guaranteed tomorrow, angel. Especially with the way the world is. We need to take what happiness we can when we can.”
“And what if you change your mind-” You start.
“Never. I will never change my mind. I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids in the creche and you were that bossy little girl who told me that I was wearing my jacket wrong. I loved you when we were teenagers and you had your heart broken by my brother and I was your shoulder to cry on. I’m not going to stop loving you. Ever.”
You’re quiet for a moment, and then you huff, “I was not a bossy little girl.”
“You were so bossy. It was adorable. It’s why I went along with it.”
You pout at him, and he grins at you, looking young and boyish in his delighted amusement, “Fine. I’ll move in with you, but only because you’re being pathetic about it.”
“I can live with that.” He agrees, before ducking his head just enough to catch your lips with his.
You lean into the kiss, intent to deepening it, to fan the flames of passion, when there’s a loud chime from the other room, and he breaks the kiss with a sigh. He tilts his head to the bed, and murmurs an instruction to get comfortable, before he releases you.
A giggle falls from your lips as you sit on his bed to wait for him. You watch him walk into the next room and you watch, through the open doors, as he reads something on the computer.
And you watch as tension lances through his body.
“Fox? What’s wrong?”
“Cody found the raiders,” Fox replies from his work room, you get to your feet and walk over to him, “Apparently they’re not raiders. They were informed that you, and several other people who are in charge of food, water, and power were being held against your will.”
“Who are they?” You ask, offended that anyone would think something so poorly of the men who saved you.
“They call themselves Jedi. They’re demanding to meet you and the others.” Fox scowls, “Cody doesn’t think we should do it, he says it stinks like a trap. Dad says that we should, but we should meet in a neutral place. He says that survivors need to stick together.”
“And...what do you think?”
“I think I want you to stay safe, but if this is the best option…” He trails off and then turns and pulls you into a kiss.
You sigh into the kiss, melting under his skilled touch.
“I promise,” He breathes against your lips, “No one will ever hurt you.”
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dingodad · 3 months ago
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what made you choose denizens as your main inspo for your fantroll names? is there more lore/characterization for them based on the denizens whose names they match? easter eggs?
(scrolled your whole fantroll tag to make sure i wasn’t crazy and that a yaldabaoth (yiaweh) and a typheus (typhon) existed)
braxas and co were born out of a kind of homestuck AU bubble that formed when guidestuck was really popular. this kind of thing was everywhere in ask blogs and fanadventures that obviously did not have enough substance to last any longer than a hundred pages... what if the consorts were humans who played sburb, what if the LANDS were humans who played sburb, what if sprites like tavris and fefeta were humans and played sburb, what if the guardians were young and played sburb, what if the lusii were trolls AND genderbent... i wanted to get in on the action and i guess it seemed like the denizens were kind of what was left.
at that time it was pretty standard to have fantrolls that were ""based on"" something so i ended up roleplaying as braxas a bunch and he developed so much as a character that he ended up sticking around. the rest of them never really got the same level of care but basically came along with him as accessories. i guess in this way braxas is kind of like my own personal version of sans underfell???????!!!!!!!!!
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(ok i googled this and it turns out the sans i was thinking of with all the error stuff wasn't even sans underfell but in fact a completely different popular AU version of sans. so for all the people too young to know what the fuck was happening in the homestuck fandom 10 years ago, that should give you a pretty good point of comparison for the level of swap AU saturation we were at.)
a lot of their characterisation largely still draws from their origins with a little bit of their mythological namesakes mixed in (though their ancestors play out the original myths a lot more faithfully). braxas is probably the least explored denizen in the comic so most of his deal is inspired by the philosophy of abraxas as a concept, and his anguipede lusus is directly based on classical depictions of abraxas. most of their designs can in some way be traced back to their designs in homestuck too, though braxas has probably been through more iterations than anyone else.
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i imagine you can also see how i got hemera and nix' horns from their associated denizens' "tails".
their whole sburb story that i don't really talk about because i still have it in my head that it will appear one day fully-formed on the internet as a fanadventure is largely an elaboration on themes of like, becoming a myth and apotheosis and such so the fact that these are trolls who for some strange reason also happen to look and talk exactly like the mysterious gods of sburb has definitely been incorporated into their reason for existing. but like for instance the fact that they all live on their own different conquered alien planets which vaguely look like the kind of planet you might find those denizens on is all part of it
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redara · 8 months ago
Text
Sub-Mission
Pairings: Áila Hávarôr / Bi-Han / Tenshikiri Jun Ratings: Explicit Words: 6.418 Tags: F/M/F, Sub-Bi-Han, Toys Summary: Bi-Han admits, he appreciates strong, influential women. AU - canon divergence. Sets in the current timeline, post-MK1, in the AU where everyone agrees for a truce in order to prepare for potential timeline Invaders.
A/N: also posted on AO3. Áila Hávarôr belongs to @tazahan . Tenshikiri Jun belongs to me. Special thanks, Taza, for the discussion about our girls! :3
The threat of invaders from other timelines is still looming over. It is not a simple matter; all sides are wary of each other, cautious for another ‘Damashi’ to trick them. The growing tension is becoming too palpable that Liu Kang, as the Protector of Earthrealm and the former Keeper of Time, has decided to call for a truce. And such a decision is immediately welcomed, at least for now.
Upon entering the Wu Shi Academy, Bi-Han tries, and fails, to hide his disgust. Why, of all places, must the meeting be held here? He strides to the main hall, not bothering to look at his surroundings; Sektor and Cyrax are following dutifully, dressed in their red and yellow mech-armor, sans the helmets.
As expected, the main hall is already packed with familiar faces. Bi-Han glances daggers at Kuai Liang and Tomas, the former who is still donning yellow, and accompanied by his Shirai wife, Harumi. Surprisingly, it is Tomas who gives a small nod to Bi-Han, either out of habit or respect, Bi-Han doesn’t bother to care. He only wants to find a spot in the background where no one can sneak up and stab him – given the glares he receives, there are plenty with such a wish.
He finds a place by a bookshelf, where there are two unfamiliar women standing. One is a voluptuous woman with short orange hair, dressed in black techwear-style outfit; crop-hoodie with intricate silver pattern, cargo pants, and red and white sneakers; she is crossing her arms under her ample chest. The other woman has jet black hair tied up in a bun, dressed in a dark teal kimono, and she is shorter than the first woman. Neither of them look familiar, or important , so Bi-Hand decides to not give them any mind, and stands in the space in front of them.
“Great, now we have a wall in front of us.”
“Jun –” the Orange-Haired woman immediately adds when Bi-Han turns around, “-- sorry, sorry , she doesn’t mean you –”
“Of course not.” The Teal-Dressed woman feigns a smile. “Please, resume standing there, Áila and I are only wallflowers after all.”
Bi-Han frowns at the sarcasm, “If you are short , you should be aware not to stand in the back.”
“Yes, apologies. Clearly, we should have brought stepladders to this meeting.”
The Orange-Haired woman, Áila, looks apologetic for the Teal-Dressed woman, Jun, who looks annoyingly smug. Bi-Han could reply, in fact, he wants to, but he’d rather not add two more people to the list of ‘people who want to kill him’, so he opts to ignore them – which has proven difficult, now that they’re muttering behind his back.
Liu Kang finally begins the meeting, fashionably late, as usual. The Fire God still looks the same since the last time Bi-Han saw him, though now he looks rather tired, if a God can be tired… “Thank you for sparing your time for this important meeting. I hope this won’t be the only time we are standing together, as there is strength in number, and solidarity. I understand some of you have different goals, clashing goals, and I appreciate it that you are setting aside your differences to fight a common enemy – The Invaders.”
Does he ever stop talking? Bi-Han sighs quietly as Liu Kang goes on a lecture about the current situation; how another Titan has been spotted invading other timelines, and it’s only a matter of time before they come to this one; how the Shirai Ryu (Bi-Han grunts at the name) have agreed to set aside their rivalry with the Lin Kuei; and how Quan Chi and Shang Tsung have agreed to ‘play nice’ for once as to not have Empress Mileena and her court hunt them down. All the boring details that could have been summarized in a written note, instead of calling for a meeting.
But then Liu Kang concludes, “Before I forget, we have two additional guests here. They may not have been involved in our latest kombat, but they are of powerful clans seeking to maintain the peace and alliance. Uh –” he looks around the room, so uncharacteristically confused as he scans the faces of everyone. Somehow Bi-Han has the feelings that the two thorns behind him are the ones Liu Kang is searching for –
Aaand he is right, when Jun speaks up aloud, “We’re here, Lord Liu Kang.”
Now all eyes turn towards Bi-Han, seemingly judging him for blocking the two guests, and he steps aside before anyone could ask him to. Liu Kang smiles, “Ah, there you are. Everyone, let me introduce you to Áila Hávarôr, future chieftain of the Sól Eldur clan. Her clan has been a dear friend, and their inventions have helped keep Earthrealm safe for centuries.”
Áila gives a respectful salute to Liu Kang and the room, “Pleased to meet you.”
Liu Kang continues, “And Tenshikiri Jun, the current Head of the Tenshikiri family. Once a clan serving the Empire as Spymaster, they are now oath-bound as secret keepers of Earthrealm.”
Jun bows deeply, before standing straight and replies, “It’s an honor to be here.”
“The honor is mine, Lady Áila, Lady Jun. As per our agreement, the two of you shall join forces with the Lin Kuei, in hope the three of you can come up with a battle plan if the Invader does invade our timeline.” Liu Kang gestures at Bi-Han, “Please, look no further than to your right, and you’ll find Bi-Han, the esteemed Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.”
Áila casts a bright, carefree smile, “Ah, yes, we’ve been, uhm, acquainted.”
“With his back.” Jun mutters under her breath.
“If you’d like to step closer to the table, I’m sure we still have more space by the Champions.” Liu Kang gestures to the four Earthrealm Champions who are standing side by side.
Bi-Han watches as Áila and Jun accept the offer; they walk with their heads held high, and a formal smile on their faces. But he doesn’t miss the small glance they throw at him as they walk past him, one of curiosity and interest, both pairs of eyes locking with his dark brown ones. And in that single moment, Bi-Han can’t figure out why he is annoyed in the first place.
***
In the next few days and weeks, however, Bi-Han finds himself growing more annoyed than usual. At least now he’s back in the Lin Kuei compound, a familiar place devoid of judgmental people, and back on his routine as the Grandmaster. He’s sitting behind his desk in his office, reading the reports gathered by his Lin Kuei regarding the two unfamiliar clans he didn’t know existed prior to the meeting in Wu Shi Academy. Both the Sól Eldur and the Tenshikiri clans show promises and great rapports, in fact, they have been so secretive in assisting Earthrealm that the Lin Kuei have not needed to cross paths with them before.
Perhaps it should have stayed that way , for now he keeps seeing the names of Áila and Jun in every document, and his heart sinks a bit deeper each time. There is something about those two. Perhaps it’s the fact that Áila and her clan are blessed by the power of the sun and can torch the Earth if given the opportunity, yet they choose to remain pacifists for all these years. Perhaps it’s the fact that Jun and her family know every little secret in the world, but still keep them despite being capable of using them for their own gain.
Two beautiful women of powerful clans, commanding forces under their leadership – so why does it bother Bi-Han so much?
Perhaps it’s the fact that Áila’s voluminous chest would jiggle enticingly with every little move she makes – even the action of going downstairs becomes such a lewd display, that Bi-Han has tried so hard to focus on her face entirely. Perhaps it’s how Jun’s curvy hips would sway when she walks – Bi-Han doesn’t know if he enjoys the sight of her approaching or leaving. Perhaps it’s the way both of them would look at him, a mixture of coy and playful, like waves on the sand, enticing him to come closer into the sea to drown him.
And he hates to admit it, but by the Gods, some days he wants to step into the figurative sea and drown.
The door to his office is knocked. Bi-Han shakes his head to clear out the thoughts of Áila and Jun completely; he clears his throat, and gruffly responds, “Come in.”
Just his luck, the two burdens of his mind enter his office; they carry themselves in their own personal grace, like the sun and the moon, and Bi-Han suddenly feels like the dark space they accompany.
“Good evening.” He greets Áila and Jun, watching as they begin to occupy the space of his office. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Bi-Han is not sure who he has to watch; Jun is observing the line of decorative weapons on the wall, hips swaying with each step that she takes; Áila stands in front of his desk with her hands in the pockets of her cargo pants, shifting from one foot to another, and with each movement, her chest heaves. His attention finally settles on Áila as she speaks, “We’d like to say thank you for allowing us to stay with the Lin Kuei for this unforeseeable future. We understand it must be difficult to let strangers into your home, and we thank you for your trust, and – uhm…” she looks away, still shifting on her feet.
“And we trust you in return.” Jun adds without looking away from the decorative weapons.
“Right. I had that on the top of my head.” Áila looks at Bi-Han again, though now he notices a slight pink hue on her cheeks. “Uh… We just want to say that we trust you, and we feel that you do too, I mean, we are allies and – Jun, I can’t do this. You’re the one who’s good with words.”
Jun turns to her, “Why, you were doing great before that.”
“Oh, come on…”
The exchange raises both alarm and confusion in Bi-Han that he’s not certain on how to respond except, “What are you two blabbering about?”
Áila cocks her head towards Jun, “We have a point, I promise, but she will explain it.”
Bi-Han raises an eyebrow at the said woman, “Well? You’re talking about hospitality and trust, I don’t think I’d extend either if you two are acting weird in front of me.”
With a sigh, Jun begins to make her way to his desk; even paced, calculated movement, almost like a dance. “We intended to make this as refined as possible, but crass will have to do, given your attitude. We’re saying that we’re not blind, Bi-Han.”
“Who said you are?”
“We noticed your stare. I am a Tenshikiri, I’m trained to read the subtlest body language, and yours is loud.” Jun stops next to Áila. With both women looking at him intently, Bi-Han finds his heart beats a bit faster. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice your heated gaze on my hips? Or your ogling of Áila’s massive tits?” Áila nudges Jun’s side, but she continues. “We’re all adults here, so let us talk like adults, shall we? If my observation is incorrect, tell me so, and we will offer you our apology, take our leave from your office, and we shall continue our days like this has never happened. So, would you like to admit it, or deny it, Grandmaster?”
The shame growing in the pit of Bi-Han’s chest makes him feel like a hormonal teenager again, and he tries to suppress it, even though his face feels a bit warmer than usual. Gripping the armrests of his chair, his fingertips layered by ice in hope to quell his emotions. He glances between the two women, heat begins to consume him inside out, just like the urge to be honest or to lie to save face.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Bi-Han heaves a heavy sigh, body slumping against his chair. “How astute. Forgive me for having a keen sense of observation. You should feel safe within these walls. But,” he adds sharply, “I merely admired what your hard work has bestowed upon your physique. I’d be foolish if I did not notice them entirely.”
Jun glances at Áila. There is a smirk shared between them, and Bi-Han swears he sees a mischievous glint in their eyes, one that he doesn’t expect to see from them. Jun starts, “I told you. My skill is impeccable.”
Áila’s pink cheeks grow redder, “So you said. Now what?”
“Now it’s our turn to be honest. You do it.”
“Fine…” Áila groans, before schooling her expression into a decent one, albeit still holds mischief behind her smile. “We – ahem – we’ve also been ‘observing’ your hard work. We think it’s impressive, worthy of many praises – you are possibly the most beautiful man we’ve ever seen. Don’t laugh!” She chides as Jun snickers into her palm.
The cogs in Bi-Han’s mind fall into places, and oh… they’ve been ogling me as well? Them? Both of them? There is a cracking sound coming from his armrests, where his ice has taken form and completely ruined the fine wood, but he doesn’t care for that for now. These two women who have occupied his thoughts just confessed that they have been looking at him as well, and – and now what?
“Ah… Thank you.” is what Bi-Han can manage, for deep inside, his desire grows and he doesn’t wish it to be known, not when Áila is blushing so adorably, and he wonders if she’ll blush the same shade of her hair – does the hair below matches the hair above? – and certainly not when Jun is undressing him with her eyes, and he wonders what kind of expression she will give when she breaks underneath him – 
Bi-Han huffs an icy breath. The display earns the attention of the two women. He is the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. He is the infamous Sub-Zero who is widely known and respected. He can handle the toughest enemies and the hardest of battle, certainly he can handle two lustful creatures.
“Since the cats are out of the bag,” He begins, heart pounding harder and steadily, watching Áila and Jun’s response, “and since we are adults who are capable of being responsible for our own… desire, let me ask what do you have in mind?”
“Perhaps we should foster our alliances deeper .” Áila glances between Jun and him.
“Nothing better than showing the naked truth to foster trust.” Jun purrs. “And you? What does the Grandmaster want?”
Bi-Han can’t help the pull on the corner of his lips, or the growing need in the restraint of his pants, or how he thinks how adorable that these two women are acting like they are in control of the outcome. But he welcomes their heated gaze nonetheless, as he gives his reply, “Do whatever you wish to me.”
***
The cold bedroom gradually grows hotter with each layer of clothing that’s being shed. Bi-Han admires how both Áila and Jun are not holding back from their desire, and neither is he; he interrupts Áila from undoing her bra by pulling her for a kiss – she moans, partially in protest of his colder lips, but she complies and melts into his touch, arching into his palm that’s kneading at one of her breasts. They feel heavy and full and soft, and Gods , Bi-Han wants to bury his face in between them.
A small chuckle is heard behind him, and he parts from Áila to find Jun, already in her naked glory, approaching the bed with a small box in hand. Bi-Han grows curious, “What is that?”
“This?” Jun shakes the box lightly. Whatever’s inside sounds heavy. “It’s something pleasurable, I promise.”
He is not convinced. He approaches her, silently demanding to see the content.
She clicks her tongue, “Mm… Such impatience.” She opens the box, and just as she has said, the variety of toys stored within make Bi-Han’s dick twitch in reaction. Jun takes out a large vibrator, “Would this be too much to handle? We can start with the – UNF.”
Her challenging tone dies down when Bi-Han silences her with a kiss. Her shaky breath is a reaction to his cold tongue, and she mewls when he palms her breasts – they are significantly smaller than Áila’s, but he enjoys her hardening nipples, how she jumps as he pinches them to attention.
A warm hand holds his lower back. Áila hums, “I believe you said we are to do whatever we want with you?”
Bi-Han swallows thickly, did I? Oh, right, I did. “Fine.” He grumbles internally, climbing into the bed to settle in the center. His erection is straining against his boxer brief, too tight, twitching in excitement as Áila and Jun are standing at the foot of the bed, observing him. The warm light of the room accentuating the beauty of their naked bodies, the curves and dips, the colors and marks, the perfect imperfections.
When he finally removes his boxer brief, his erection springs free and heavily, and he swears he hears both women gasp. Their reaction pumps his pride – he is not stupid, years of training have sculpted his body into a perfect weapon, but also given him an impressive physique – so he lies there with a smirk, hand holding the base of his thick length, and he watches Áila and Jun’s eyes widening.
“Truly an asset –”
“-- befitting a Grandmaster.”
They finish each other's sentences.
Without wasting any time, the bed dips when Áila and Jun begin to climb up to lie beside him. Áila is to his right, and Jun is to his left, and both are on their sides with their breasts pressing against him. Bi-Han curls his arms around them, cupping their breasts, earning their shared moanings.
Jun holds his chin, pulling him for a kiss; tongues and teeth clashing; he holds her breast a bit firmer, milking a moan. He feels Áila kissing his chest, and her hand is roaming up and down his sculpted abs, nails lightly scratching his sensitive skin, making him buck slightly. He wishes her touch would glide lower to his aching cock that’s waiting for attention, but she is taking her sweet time kissing and nibbling and marking him.
The kiss ends when Jun decides it does; she turns his chin towards Áila, where Bi-Han finds her looking at him with such a bright smile, and so sweetly she holds his cheek. Her kiss is slow and steady; their tongues moving in tandem against each other. It’s intoxicating, that Bi-Han fails to notice what Jun is doing until he feels her finger on the tip of his cock.
“Mmh…” He hums into Áila’s mouth as Jun teases his cockhead. The light touch is experimental, but by the Gods, does it feel damning. He grunts when his slit is teased, rubbed rather vigorously, gathering the little precum that’s leaking.
Jun’s hand leaves him, but Áila’s replaced it, holding the base of his cock with just enough pressure for him to feel her warmth. She begins to pump him, up and down, slowly, gently, earning an involuntary buck of his hips.
Bi-Han parts from the kiss to breathe. Eyes closing, he’s savoring the feeling, throat humming in reaction. “Mm… That’s it…”
“Does it feel good?” Áila hushedly asks, head pressing against his chest.
Bi-Han can only hum, but he shows his appreciation by squeezing the breasts of both women; the soft squishy of Áila’s and the perkiness of Jun’s. He is enjoying the movement, the warmth, every little thing that makes his cock twitch happily and he’s growing harder and harder and –
A soft hum joins the shared breathing in the room, and the next thing he feels is a steady vibration pressed against the underside of his cockhead. He opens his eyes and looks down, seeing Áila holding the base of his cock steadily, while Jun is pressing a vibrator to his cockhead; the tip is buzzing, blurring. Bi-Han rasps, “What are – ngh –”
“We are making ice cream.” Áila replies in a sing-song tune, still smiling brightly.
Jun moves the vibrator up and down his cockhead; Bi-Han bites back a yelp when she presses it over his slit, “This is the slowest setting. Let’s see how long it takes for you to come.”
Bi-Han grits his teeth, “Insolent maidens… Is that – mmh – a challenge?”
“You can back down whenever you want, you know.”
The vibrator is pulled away, and though Bi-Han sighs in relief, his cock twitches involuntarily, missing the sensation. Áila giggles, “Seems your dick wants more.” She moves her hand up to the tip – he bucks and grunts – and she gathers the precum, smearing it down his length. She repeats the action two more times before settling back to holding the base. “You have to use your words, Bi-Han.”
Jun moves the vibrator closer, and Bi-Han watches, partially in want and partially in dread, as the silicone tip is inching closer to his twitching cockhead. She hums appreciatively, “Ooh are you shy? You’re blushing so adorably.”
“Quiet.” Bi-Han growls. “You want to do whatever to me, do it, quit wasting time – NNGH –” a whine escapes his throat when the vibrator is pressed to its previous position again. The sudden sensation makes his core muscle clench, making him more aware of the feeling, how it tickles in a good way.
To make it worse, Áila is now moving her hand, shallow pump, steady and firm, and Bi-Han could only throw his head back. His legs are shaking, and the two devious women have taken the liberty to wrap their warm legs around each of his thigh; he can feel their heat and wetness, clearly they are also aroused by the activity. He tries to buck, but they keep their hold steady.
Then, the vibrator is pulled away again.
Bi-Han grunts in annoyance, but the women are laughing, and he is in no position to demand when his cock is oozing precum and twitching on its own, when his balls feel so tight and full, ready to burst whenever. “Get on with it.”
“You want to come?” Jun asks, and he can hear her smirk.
“Of course.” He opens his eyes, finding her observing his face. But his eyelids are fluttering to a close when Áila kisses his strained neck, and soon he is lost in the sensation of being teased, hot and cold, fast and slow.
The vibrator returns with a raised power. Bi-Han can’t help the bucking of his hips, the twitching of his cock – he is close, so close, it feels so good, so good, so good – mmhhh!
The sound that he makes is something he doesn’t know he’s capable of; a pathetic mewling, a moaning. Bi-Han pants aloud when the vibrator leaves him again, so close to the bliss, but so far away. He grips the breasts tightly, warningly, but it only earns Áila and Jun’s shared giggle. Though the sound annoys him, it also melts him, knowing they are having fun at the expense of his demise.
“Once more for good measure?” Áila asks tentatively.
“No. No.” Bi-Han shakes his head, eyes closed tightly. “You’ve been denying me release. It’s unfair.”
“Unfair is going back on your words – you said ‘whatever we want’.” Jun turns the vibrator off. The lack of humming sound in the room alarms Bi-Han. “What do you say, Áila? Do you think we should continue or not?”
Áila chuckles, “You’re cruel.”
“ Fine .” Bi-Han repeats with a loud huff. “Fine… Do it.”
Just as the words leave his lips, the vibrator is returns to its position, yet it’s not on. He waits, anticipating, but he’s not expecting two pairs of lips pressing a kiss to his cheeks. His eyes flutter open, just in time to see both Áila and Jun hovering over him with smiles gracing their beautiful faces.
“Such a handsome man…” Áila praises.
“A good Grandmaster…” Jun adds. “Here is your reward.”
The vibrator turns on at the highest setting; Bi-Han growls deeply and throws his head back, eyes clenched shut, as he feels all of his nerves are alight. Áila and Jun hum as they’re settling their heads on his chest. The muttered praises are muffled by his own grunting, his complaints and singing of arousal. Áila moves her hand again, at the same time Jun rubs the vibrator all over his cockhead, and the combined action defeats him completely.
“C-close –” Bi-Han rasps for no reason.
His orgasm hits him like a tidal wave, pulling him under the bliss, that all he can feel is the twitching of his cock as Áila and Jun are milking him; thick sperms shooting out of him, painting his abdomen with the hot, sticky substance. Bi-Han gasps when they still continue their actions, still holding his cock firmly, still pressing the vibrator against his very sensitive head. His twitching cockhead leaking out the remains of his seeds.
Bi-Han pries his eyes open, looking at the blushing Áila and Jun, how wide their smiles are, and how it makes his heart soar knowing he’s the cause of their joy. While at the same time, he wants to protest their grip at his sensitive cock, the still vibrating vibrator trying to coax another ticklish orgasm out of him. “... nough – enough … I’ve come…”
But he’s not prepared to receive the answer, as the two beautiful maidens look at him, eyes glinting with mirth, and collectively reply, “We know.”
***
The heat of the room becomes a bit unbearable, as sweat begins to layer Bi-Han’s skin. He’s drunk on bliss, after having been milked twice by the vibrator; the offending tool has been set aside, thankfully. But now he lies, panting, thirsty for more, while at the same time he’s had enough. However, it’s difficult to know which desire he wants at the moment, especially when his head is lying on Áila’s plush thighs, and her breasts are just a kiss away from him.
Áila is caressing his hair; his bun has become loose in the midst of everything. The action is soothing, calming, also encouraging. Bi-Han looks up at her, past her impressive chest. His tongue darts out to taste her nipple, and like a baby, he latches there, suckling, earning her soft moaning.
Once again for the night, he fails to notice what Jun is doing. Only at the last second that he feels her straddling his hips; his hands automatically hold onto her thighs, fingers splaying trying to grab ahold of her. She chuckles, breathy and lustful, and he feels her taking his hardening length in her hand.
“Áila, I think your tits are magic. Look,” Jun gives him one long stroke, “he’s hard again.”
Áila laughs, “Indeed, breastfeeding has so many benefits.”
Bi-Han bucks his hips when he feels Jun rubbing her wetness all over his length. He can feel her warm cunt, and his cock is eager for a taste. His hands find her hips and pull her close, earning her chuckle, “How insatiable, Grandmaster. Relax. You don’t need to beg for this. I need you…” She presses his tip to her cunt, and though it’s not yet entering, the spreading heat is enough for Bi-Han to want to drive into her.
Then Jun sinks down his length.
Their shared moaning is loud; hers a broken one, his is startled one. Her walls are warm and tight, and he can feel his tip pressing against her cervical opening. Jun rocks her hips gently, and her moan erupts again. “A – ah … fuck … you’re so thick…”
Initially, Bi-Han believes she won’t be able to handle him. He believes she would give up, and he would have to plow into her at his own pace, and finally break her under his command. But the more she moves her hips, the steadier her pace has become, and within seconds, it is Bi-Han who finds himself at the edge of breaking again. He should have known the sway of her hips is lethal. Paired with the clenching of her walls, he can feel all of her with such shallow, hard thrusts.
Jun looks powerful like this; rocking and bouncing on his cock, humble-sized breasts jiggling in response, and the strands of her hair dancing back and forth with it. The flushed face and the parted lips, sharp eyes looking at him from hooded lids – somehow he wants nothing but to please her, wants her to be pleased by him.
With Áila’s breasts pressing against his face, earning a few lazy kisses and licks as he breathes and moans, Bi-Han could die peacefully. He doesn’t know what to feel when bliss is rushing all over his nerves. His cock is twitching, getting harder and more sensitive, especially when Jun suddenly clenches down tightly; her walls are spasming, and she throws her head back; her lips forming a perfect O, with her eyes closing tightly – she comes hard. It doesn’t take long for her to greedily continue moving, either to prolong her orgasm or to earn herself another one. For a moment, Bi-Han feels wild, feeling like a toy being used for her pleasure, and he loves it .
Áila looks at him from between her breasts, “Hmm? You’re loving this aren’t you?”
“What?” Jun breathes out between moaning.
“Yes, I think he’s loving this, Jun.”
“I do not – ah –” Bi-Han protests hastily.
Jun laughs, “I can tell you’re lying even when your face is buried in tits.”
Bi-Han tenses when he feels Áila’s hand on his chest. Her fingers are circling around his nipple, teasing, coaxing it to become erect. He huffs, “Wanton creatures… How – nngh – how can I not react… when you keep teasing me…?”
“You could freeze us, but so far you haven’t –  OH!” Jun’s words are cut off when Bi-Han layers his hands in ice, and he grips on her hips tighter. He wants to hear her protest, wants to hear her beg him to release her, but instead, she is mewling, long and wanting. “Ohhh… You play dirty, Grandmaster… Didn’t you know pain and pleasure go hand in hand?”
Bi-Han knows he is lost when Jun rocks her hips faster. He knows he is lost when Áila mutters hushed words of encouragement, and he beams up for each stroke of her hand against his hair. He knows he is lost when he feels Jun’s walls enveloping his length tightly, and she twitches and moans aloud when she comes again, this time accompanied by his. Hot white liquid spurting out in liberation, painting her insides completely. He knows he is lost when Jun removes herself from him, and he whines – the Grandmaster whines – at the loss of warmth around his sensitive cock.
Oh, but for once, losing feels so good.
***
“Does this hurt?” Jun pulls the chain slightly.
Bi-Han huffs, looking down at the chain, following it to the nipple clamps that are now attached to his erect nipples. They look so red. When he doesn’t reply, Jun tugs the chain again.
“I said, does this hurt?” She repeats.
“No.” Bi-Han grunts.
“They look like they hurt.” Áila comments from where she is lying down on the bed, propped up by comfortable pillows. Her legs are parted, baring her pink cunt to the air; Bi-Han’s gaze falls to it, can’t deny that he is eager for her even after so many times coming.
“It’s not.” Bi-Han assures her. To be honest, he has never thought his nipples would be in this situation, but here they are, and he’s feeling way too good about it. He takes his position between Áila’s legs; his hard length resting on top of her mound. He can feel her hot cunt against his balls.
Áila looks divine in this position. Sprawled out on his bed, hands clutching tightly on the sheets, and her bright-colored hair a stark contrast to the fabric. She looks adorable, with the blushing cheeks, and still bright smile that’s just begging to be turned into orgasmic bliss. He wants to ruin her, wants to be ruined by her.
Bi-Han rubs his length along her opening, tip teasing her leaking cunt. She feels warmer, hotter than Jun’s, and when he finally enters her – Gods! – Bi-Han believes he would have melted instantly. Yet he persists, pressing forward until his hips are flushed against hers. He hoists her left leg to his shoulder, wanting to drive in deeper, she moves her right thigh further, wanting him to drive in deeper.
Then he begins to move.
With each thrust, his nipple clamps move, and it sends jolts of bliss to his sensitive tips. It makes his cock twitch involuntarily. It tickles, but feels arousing. It aches, but feels blissful. He is lost in the sensation shortly, when he can hear Áila’s loud moaning, when he can hear the slapping of flesh and the wet squelching noise of her cunt, when he feels her walls threatening to melt his cock off from how tight they are squeezing him.
Suddenly, the chain is tugged, and Bi-Han’s eyes shoot open in shock; he groans in protest when his pace falters. He feels Jun leaning behind him, pressing her naked front to his back. Her right hand is tugging at the chain, while her left is on his head, giving a gentle pat. “Hush… You are doing so well…”
I was, until you interrupted me , is what Bi-Han wants to say. But he grits his teeth and remains quiet, and focuses on fucking Áila as best as he can without faltering again. He can feel her getting close; cunt twitching, her moaning escalating into a crescendo, and – 
And she comes, at the same time as the chain is tugged three times, and Bi-Han finds himself moaning aloud to accompany Áila’s wanton cries. He grips her thighs firmly, trying to ground himself, not wanting to come just yet. But it’s difficult when Jun is teasing the living hell out of him, giggling and peppering kisses to his sweating temple.
“One more, for the sake of being fair. I came twice, she must come twice as well.” Jun whispers, still holding onto the chain.
Bi-Han can’t think straight. His mind is too fucked up to even make a coherent sentence, that he simply nods in reply, and sounding off a breathy, “Yes.” His hips begin to move again, picking up the pace again, that by now it feels like an automatic action, a carnal desire. He wants to come, again and again, wants to paint their insides with his seeds, wants to have them howling his name and crying aloud from how good he’s making them feel.
But his reply must have been not good enough. The chain is tugged again, but this time is by Áila; he bows down, following the pull of the chain. His eyes lock with hers, seeing the lust she shares. Her question is laced with the same lust as well, “Are you – ahn – are you going to please me – mmh?”
Bi-Han nods frantically.
Jun coos at his back, kisses littering on the hard plane of his torso, on his shoulders, on his nape. Dainty fingers coiling with his hair, rubbing at his scalp, gently kneading. Bi-Han drives in faster and harder into Áila’s sopping cunt, again and again and again –
He feels her walls clenching around him again, and he can’t stop the blissful moaning that erupts from his throat; his cock twitching in delight, and his seeds are leaving him without having to be asked. It is too much, too damn much, that he gets lightheaded.
He feels himself being pulled backwards until he’s out of Áila’s divine walls, and he’s lying on his back, sweating. He registers the bed shifting as the two goddesses are moving about. Jun removes the nipple clamps one by one; with each one, she rubs a cooling ointment on his sore nipples carefully. He swears he hears her muttering what a good job he has done, and how good he looks. Then, shortly, he feels a wet, warm towel being dragged along his lower abdomen, as if giving him a bath. It cleans up his length from his sticky sperm. Áila’s face comes into view, and she plants a kiss to the tip of his nose, a smile so bright he could claim her as his sun.
When his breathing has become calmer, he feels the bed dips again. Automatically, he opens his arms, welcoming both Áila and Jun to lie on his chest, cuddled up in a shared body warmth. With a slow movement, he plants a kiss on their damp foreheads, each one earning their pleased humming. And only then do they close their eyes, and drift asleep, high on cloud nine of bliss.
***
“You… wish to be placed with the Lin Kuei for an indefinite amount of time?” Liu Kang asks, confusion etched on his face. “I mean no offense, I’m merely confused as to why. When I suggested it at first, you two didn’t seem to want it, said Arctika is too cold and harsh.”
“Well, it was then, but after a while it grows on us.” Áila replies with a shrug. “I’ve informed my clan. As long as I’m doing my part to keep Earthrealm safe, they are fine with my decision.”
“Likewise,” Jun comments. “The Tenshikiri can operate individually; I have my General at the ready should anything urgent comes up. You have nothing to worry about, Lord Liu Kang.”
The Fire God, despite still in confusion, finally relents. “Very well. Should you require anything, do not hesitate to inform me.”
Jun smiles, “Rest assured. The Grandmaster is treating us well.”
“Indeed, he is.” Áila adds. “Please excuse us. We must return to Arctika at once; there are plenty to plan for the sake of Earthrealm.”
Bi-Han hums, leaning by the door to Liu Kang’s meeting room, listening to the conversation that’s taking place within. He counts the footsteps of Áila and Jun, and anticipates their arrival to his location. They notice him, as he does them, and though it is subtle, the little look they exchange speaks louder than words.
“Now that is done.” Áila begins.
Jun finishes, “Shall we return to Arctika, Grandmaster?”
With his smile hidden behind his mask, Bi-Han hushedly replies, “As my ladies wish.”
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