#fan fic newby | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beomcharms · 15 days ago

Text

detest! [TEASER]

pairings: actor!soobin x actor!reader

genre: e2l, idiots to lovers, actor au

warnings: mentions of anxiety, jealousy, both characters are mean at times, probable smut in the full fic (none in the teaser)

wc: 2.9k (full fic-tba)

release date: tba

a/n: it’s finally here!!! every word in this fic was literally squeezed out of me. i really hope y’all like it :)

taglist: leave a comment or an ask and i’ll add you 🤍

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⌗﹒

TEASER BELOW CUT

The lights were too bright. You could already feel the headache coming on from trying to remember all your lines.

“So, tell me Y/N, how was it like working with The Choi Soobin” the interviewer asks you with a smile.

You sigh inwardly. This was the third time you were answering this question.

Plastering on a smile, you pretend to contemplate before parroting off your answer.

“Ohh… it was genuinely the best experience…” your voice felt alien even to your ears.

Soobin was not helping things in the slightest. Leaning back in his chair with a cocky smirk, he pretends to fall asleep while you answer. You on the other hand were pretty sure you couldn’t handle another one of his “improvisations” as he liked to call it, while he goes completely off script.

You give him a little nudge and the interviewer laughs.

“You seem pretty tired with these questions” he says with a smile.

“Y/N gives the same answer all the time” Soobin says in mock pout and you feel like smacking him down with a chair.

You laugh along giving him a little push and Ssobin takes hold of your hands.

“Be honesttt now” he drawls out and you glance at his eyes. They’re full of mirth.

“Whaatt I AM being honest” you say “To work with you was a dream come true” you say gently, sure that the fans would go wild over this clip.

“Aww you guys are cutee” the interviewer says, “Alright then I have one last question for you Y/N”

No. You knew what was coming next. You hated this question twice as much as the rest of them. You feel Soobin’s teasing energy radiating off of him.

“How difficult was it to shoot the kiss scene?”

There it was.

-.-

To say Soobin and you didn’t get along would be an understatement. To say you detested each other to a point where neither of you could look at one another without gagging would be a more appropriate deduction.

You don’t know when exactly the rivalry began. You both went to the same acting school and had done multiple projects together before. But you just couldn’t seem to work together. Soobin felt like you were too practiced and poised and you felt like he was not trying hard enough. To see him on the big screen before you only added to your existing dislike for him.

He never took anything seriously. This was your debut break and you were sure that Soobin was purposefully holding himself back in some scenes for this film to flop. And who exactly would they blame? A rising star with hundreds of fans or the newbie that no one really knew?

-.-

You sighed inwardly before answering the question.

“It was the hardest scene to shoot, we just couldn’t get the angle right and I’d like to thank Soobin for being so patient…” you smile a little and look at Soobin the way you practiced and he winks back at you.

The interviewer chuckles before wrapping up the interview, wishing you luck on your film and shaking your hands.

Finally the lights turn off and both Soobin and you slump back into your chairs in exhaustion.

You close your eyes for a moment trying to collect yourself when you feel a finger poking you.

Tiredly you open your eyes and stare at Soobin hoping the exhaustion in your eyes is enough for him to leave you alone. Doesn’t seem like it though.

“You should try to be a little more creative with your answers instead of vomiting the same ones with little to no variation you know? Fans like a person with charisma not someone dull, lifeless” Soobin says in a pompous manner.

If you had the energy you would’ve toppled him over and set him on fire but you don’t so you just shrug at him and get off the chair.

This seems to wind Soobin up more.

“Look at you. Already tired and boring and we haven’t even finished all our promotions yet. I told you-

“Hey Soobin” you cut across him, “Can you like you know, shut up?” you ask him calmly.

You hear both your managers snort which is enough to soothe your anger for now.

Soobin is about to start his retort when his manager cuts him off.

“That’s enough the two of you. We have a lot of schedules to plan and you both have to get through all of it while looking on the verge of love” he says.

That was the worst part. Acting in a film with Soobin was bad enough. Now you had to act like you were about to fall in love with him to truly sell your role.

Your managers go over your schedule and by the end of it you’re pretty sure one of you is going to kill the other by the end of it.

“So, to sum it up, we have the party, a photo shoot, an overseas event and ofcourse the premier after which you guys wouldn’t have to be within five feet of each other” your manager smiles at the last part.

“Excellent” you say with relief.

“Just what I need” Soobin echoes.

Getting up from your seat you both thank the staff for their help and patience before heading off to your dressing rooms.

“When will you be arriving at the party?” Soobin asks you casually.

“Why do you care” you sigh, removing your heels. You look over at him loosening his tie and look away, something about the way he tugged at it made your stomach clench. Maybe you were going mad from hunger.

“Fine, if this is how you wish to spend the rest of the promotions, that’s fine” he huffs out.

“Around 8-8:30 I guess” you answer him quietly. “Who are you bringing?” You ask him.

Soobin wishes to answer your question the same way you answered his but looking over at you with you tiredly massaging your feet he can’t find it in himself.

“No one” he says. “See you there then” he says walking out.

“Bye” you mutter.

-.-

Cameras flash everywhere as you get off the car. Reporters barge in poking all their mics into your face. Your manager tries his best to push them away and you try to hide your eyes from the flashes

“Is it true you and Soobin did not get along on the set?”

“Y/N look here look here”

“Oh she is such a bitch”

You try your best to drown it out and hurry to get into the hall.

Once inside, you finally let out the breath you weren’t even sure you were holding. The anxiety that threatens to choke you down finally takes her hand away from your neck. You breathe and look around.

The party is crowded. You look out for a familiar face and notice Beomgyu and Yeonjun a few feet off to the bar. They seem deep in conversation and you slowly make your way towards them.

“I’m telling you it was a disaster- she had the most horrifying voice- Hey Y/N” Beomgyu stops mid sentence greeting you with a grin. “Nice dress” he adds, winking.

“I could’ve dressed her in something better” you hear Yeonjun drawl out and you smile a little to yourself.

“I’d like to protect what little is left of my dignity Jun-ah” you tell him calmly and Beomgyu snorts.

The designer narrows his eyes at you while you warmly pull him into a hug. You had known Yeonjun and Beomgyu since college. Design students and drama students went hand in hand and Yeonjun had helped design your dresses for stages multiple times before.

“I’m gonna let that one slide, because I like you” he tells you in a warning tone and you laugh.

“So which new singer are we badmouthing now” you ask Beomgyu.

“Jiyung- like you won’t believe” Beomgyu huffs out in frustration. “I put her on mute for a while to prevent myself from killing someone in the recording booth”

Yeonjun and you try to hide your laugh as Beomgyu animatedly explains his producer shenanigans.

“I don’t know how long I can hold onto my sanity before I stop being a producer and start my own dog cafe or something” Beomgyu sighs.

You rub his arm in consolation.

“Well, what is up with you? How are the promotions and how is the love of your life doing?” Yeonjun asks you and you echo Beomgyu’s sigh.

“Don’t get me started. The new rumour in town is that he and I didn’t get along on set and I wonder what the staff is gonna come up with now to diffuse it” you say.

“It’s not entirely a lie now, is it ?” Beomgyu smirks a little.

“Yah-” you start.

“I’m not too sure though” Yeonjun says thoughtfully. “The kiss…. it looked a little too real”

“It’s called acting” you huff out. Having to think about the kiss scene twice a day was painful.

“Hmm… I’ve known you way too long for that excuse to be believable Y/N” Yeonjun’s tells you with a small smile.

“For what to be believable?” Soobin asks and you nearly jump.

“Jesus Christ atleast let people know of your presence you idiot “ you tell him clutching your chest.

“So dramatic” he mutters while shaking hands and bumping shoulders with beomjun.

“I believe our seats are over there” you tell him pointing towards the tables. The dinner was about to start and you didn’t need Soobin hearing anymore about the Kiss.

This would be a publicised event, with photographers calculatedly talking shots of celebrities for their stories so your team had decided to place you two next to each other for the fans.

You sit down next to Soobin adjusting your dress a little.

Soobin looks over at you and takes note of your exposed thighs and gulps a little.

“You couldn’t find anything shorter to wear?” He huffs out.

“No” you tell him smiling sweetly as he rolls his eyes.

The MC rambles on about the founders of the trust who were throwing the party as part of charity. You make a silent prayer to god to give you the strength to make it through the event.

-.-

Soobin had gotten up a while ago and was now deep in conversation with Zhang Hao at the bar and you feel bored out of your mind. You know Soobin sort of hates you but to leave you hanging like this all night was a bit much. You look around at the other tables watching people converse and you can’t help but feel a little out of place.

You sense someone watching you, glancing up and you notice Minho looking at you. You give him a small smile and he grins back at you.

Minho had reached out to you when you were done filming, congratulating you. Casual conversations wherein you wanted to engage more but rarely had the time to, left you both as acquaintances and nothing more and yet here he was looking like he wanted to start something.

Flustered, you look down on your plate. You sense more than see Minho getting up from his seat and walk towards you. When he reaches your side you look up at him again and he still has the smile on his face.

“Mind if I sit down?” He asks you.

“Not really” you reply and he sits down next to you.

“So, tell me, why is the prettiest girl in the room sitting all by her lonesome?” Minho’s eyes crinkle as he asks the question and you blush a little.

“Guess I’m not pretty enough for this crowd” you answer him, tilting your head a little.

“Now, let’s not lie” he tells you dragging the chair closer to yours.

Maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

-.-

Soobin is still completely oblivious to what’s happening around him when he hears your laughter and he turns around.

There you were sitting at the table, laughing onto- wait was that Minho?

Something inside Soobin twists. He had gotten up to grab drinks for the both of you when he got sidetracked by Zhang Hao who insisted on keeping the conversation flowing.

Soobin’s eyes narrow when he sees you holding onto Minho’s arm to keep yourself upright while he was looking at you with adoration that Soobin wanted to smack out of him.

“Hao, I really need to go now” he mutters to the boy beside him pushing his way past. “Later”

-.-

You don’t think you’ve laughed this hard in a while. Minho’s dry comments about everyone had you cracking up more than you thought it would’ve. He was witty and charming and you found yourself in hysterics when you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“Minho” Soobin calls out and you look around to see him towering behind you. He glances once at you and for some reason you feel like sinking further down into your seat.

“Hi Soobin!” Minho greets him with a smile, “I was just telling Y/N about the Chan debacle”

Soobin gives him a tight lipped smile before looking back at you.

“I think our manager is looking for us” he tells you.

“I just saw him a couple of minutes ago and he mentioned nothing” you tell him puzzled.

“Yeah I just ran into him and he says its time for us to leave.long day tomorrow” Soobin tells you in a cold tone.

“But we haven’t even danced yet!” You huff out.

“Yeah, I’m sure one dance wouldn’t hurt anybody” Minho says getting up from his seat and adjusting his suit, holding out his hand to you.

“You’re right, maybe we SHOULD dance” Soobin tells you grabbing your arm and pulling you upto your feet cutting across Minho.

“Wai-“ you say trying to shake Soobin’s hold on you but his grip is vice like. Looking over his shoulder you mouth a quick sorry to Minho.

“That was so unnecessary” you hiss at Soobin. “You knew he wanted to dance with me”

Soobin tugs you closer to him, his hand on the small of your back. “And you tend to be forgetful about the fact that we are being filmed currently” he whispers into your ear.

The whole purpose of the event had completely slipped from your mind. Ofcourse you were being filmed and how would it look if you danced with some other man while Soobin was right next to you?

You look up at him guiltily.

“Forgot about it, didn’t you” Soobin huffs out.

“Well, the cameras didn’t seem to matter to you all that much when you ran off with Hao” you mutter silently.

Soobin holds back his smile.

“Aw, did princess miss me that much?” Soobin asks you in a playful tone and you pretend to gag.

“Please. If it weren’t for the cameras I wouldn’t even stand five feet next to you” you tell him.

“As if I would be caught dancing with you on any other occasion!” Soobin tells you indignantly.

You look up at him with narrowed eyes “FINE”

“Yeah fine” Soobin retorts, resting both of his hands on the small of your back while yours wrap around his shoulders

“Besides what was he talking about? What’s so funny?” Soobin asks in a quiet tone.

You smile a little thinking of Minho’s jokes before looking up at Soobin.

“I don’t know, I haven’t laughed this hard in a while” you answer him honestly.

“He should’ve debuted as a fucking comedian then” Soobin spits out. For completely unknown, some might call it envy-not Soobin, reasons he hates the way you talk about Minho.

“Aw, is my little prince jealous?” You ask him sweetly and Soobin pretends to puke leaning away from you.

You both sway a little to the dance, falling into a rhythm. Having been forced to spend so much time with one another, you’ve grown used to how the other one moves and feels.

Soobin is just so tall that your arms hurt a little from the strain of reaching upto his shoulders.

“Can you like bend a little you giraffe” you ask him.

Soobin scoffs before leaning down. You gulp a little at the proximity, an action not missed by Soobin who leans in closer still, almost touching foreheads.

You look away into the distance trying to calm your rising heart rate. Hoping to God that the dim lighting is enough to cover up your red cheeks you look back up at Soobin who is smiling at you.

“What”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered” He laughs out.

“You’re delusional, if you think you make me flustered Choi” you answer him dryly.

“Really?” He asks you softly leaning down closer still to you.

“Mmhmm” you manage to make out, trying not to let your voice show how affected you are.

“You can’t act even to save your own life” Soobin tells you, leaning back and you feel the competitive spirit in you flare up.

Pulling him down by his tie, so that your faces are only a couple inches apart, you ask him a question that’s been on your mind for the last couple of minutes.

“Were the cameras really the only reason you dragged me away from Minho?” You ask him calmly, looking deep into his eyes.

Soobin feels like a fish out of water. To have you, in his arms, staring at him like this was as close to a sensory overload as it could get.

“I- I uh-“ Soobin stammers around. He wonders if his brain has turned to mush. What was the question again?

“You can’t act to save your life” you retort throwing back his line at him and letting go of his tie.

Soobin leans back away from you and finally feels like he can breathe normally again. This was the first project you worked on after college ended. If he were a little more honest, Soobin would’ve admitted that he missed having you around. Excitement slowly bubbles up in his stomach at the thought of spending more time with you

This was going to be a long promotion.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⌗

🎧this is the end of the teaser!! i hope yall liked it, if you did please leave a comment/reblog/like it helps me out a ton and consider giving my other fics a read xoxo🎧

#soobin x reader #soobin fic #soobin x you #soobin x y/n #txt au #soobin smut #txt x reader #txt x you #soobin au #soobin #txt smut #txt soobin

130 notes · View notes

unequivocallyreid · 10 months ago

Text

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #there was only one bed #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #fic rec #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #a bit cliche but here we are #criminal minds smut #spencer reid is a munch

734 notes · View notes

morgana-larkin · 5 months ago

Note

Love your work, i think ive read all ur melissa x reader fics😭. So yk how melissa says “youse”? I was wondering if u could make a fic where reader is a new teacher and shes from the south and constantly says “ya’ll” instead. Idk what after that tbh

Girl next time I'll need a bit more than that. And really happy that you love my work and thank you for the prompt. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I'm finally getting to all your prompts, so if you sent one, it's coming soon! I believe I have 5 other Melissa ones and 1 Chessy prompt.

Southern Girl

Warnings: Fluff, Reader having doubt

Words: 2k

You walk into the doors of Abbott all excited. You’ve been subbing for a year now, mostly at Addington Elementary, the charter school down the street. Now you’re Abbott Elementary’s new art teacher. You check in at the office and get your classroom key and badge with the photo from the interview a week ago.

“Alright newbie, you’re here. Follow me to the teacher’s lounge and I’ll introduce you to the ones that I tolerate here.” Ava pipes up from behind you and you follow her there.

You both walk in and 8 sets of eyes fall on you two. 3 from a corner in the back, 3 from a table near the window and 2 from a table near the fridge.

“Newbie this is where you introduce yourself.” Ava tells you as you were shocked with the sudden spotlight on you.

“Oh right, hi y’all my name is Y/n Y/l/n. I’m the new art teacher here.” You introduce yourself, your southern accent visible. Two teachers come bouncing over to you and talking a mile a minute. The things you got were Janine Teagues, second grade teacher as well as Jacob Hill, 8th grade teacher. The rest you didn’t catch at all as it was a lot before 8am.

“Janine dear, why don’t you and Jacob give her some room, she just got here.” One of the women from the table near the fridge says. “Hello dear, I’m Barbara Howard, kindergarten teacher.” She says gently as Janine and Jacob go to sit down. Barb then softly nudges the woman next to her and gets a weird look from the ginger. You have to admit that this nameless ginger is very attractive. “You should introduce yourself.” Barb tells her and she sighs.

“But she’s from the south, for all we know she can be a cowboys fan.” She says to Barb.

“The girl from south is right here and can hear you. And are you talking about the Dallas Cowboys?” You ask and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“So youse a fan?” She asks and crosses her arms.

“Of the cowboys, no. Never really been a fan until I got here to be honest. It was all the rage when I got here so I looked into it, the Eagles aren’t bad of a team.” You tell her and you see the slightest smile on her face.

“I’m Melissa Schemmenti, 2nd grade teacher.” She introduces herself and you freeze.

“Schemmenti? Why does that name sound familiar?” You say and she sighs.

“Have you been to Addington?” She asks and you nod.

“Quite a bit actually.”

“You might have met my sister Kristen Marie there then.” She says and you widen your eyes.

“Of course, I do know her. Her and I are texting buddies, we text about once a week. I honestly forgot about her last name.” You tell her and she shakes her head. “Wait you’re Melissa, she’s mentioned you a few times.” You add.

“All bad things I’m assuming, knowing my sister.” She says and you shake your head.

“No, not bad at all.” Mostly embarrassing things, but you ain’t mentioning that to her. “Well I’d love to stay and chat with y’all but I gotta skedaddle. Lots to do in just a week.” You tell them and then leave the room. Everyone turns to look at Melissa and while she doesn’t see it, she feels them all staring at her.

“What are all youse looking at?” Melissa says without turning to look at them.

“You gave your name so… willingly.” Janine says confused.

“You heard her, she doesn’t mind the Eagles, she seems alright.” Melissa says with barely a thought to the answer.

At the end of the day you go to turn into the teachers lounge to get your lunchbox, only to run into Melissa, physically run right into her.

“Oh I’m so sorry Melissa, you ok?” You tell her while you have your hands on her arms to stabilise her.

“Ya I’m fine kid, are you alright?” She asks you and you nod. You go to get your lunchbox from the fridge and when you go to leave, she’s still there, waiting for you.

“Should I be flattered that you’re waiting for me?” You joke with her and she chuckles.

“I think so. I mean, I’ve never done it for anyone else before.” She says and you smile.

“Well considered me flattered then.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“Well let’s, what did you say earlier? Skedaddle?” She teases you and you laugh. You both start to walk to the parking lot.

“Why Melissa, I hope you’re not making fun of the language of the south.” You joke with her and she laughs.

“Wouldn’t dream of it southy.”

“Oh I get a nickname too? You’re too sweet.” You say and she playfully shoves your shoulder with hers.

You reach the parking lot and then you both walk to her car which was right next to yours.

“Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask her, not wanting this moment to end.

“Ya, you will kid.” She tells you with a smile then gets in her car.

2 months go by and it’s safe to say you’re settling in pretty well. You’ve gotten support from your coworkers and your students are loving your classes. There’s one specific coworker that stands out to you and that’s Melissa. You’ve found yourself admiring her a couple weeks now. Ever since you were able to watch her teach, you’ve been wanting to again. At lunch, she offered you a spot at her and Barb’s table, which apparently has never happened before, and you find yourself staring at her when she’s talking. When she comes to drop her kids off at your class, you make yourself more presentable before she gets there, you quickly brush your hair, reapply lip balm, just anything to make yourself look better for her. You got looks from people when she invited you over to her house for the first time and you loved every second of it. You’ve also gotten weird looks from Barb and the trio lately and you have no idea why, until Barb talks to you.

“Hello dear, can I come in?” She asks from your doorway and you look up from your sketchbook.

“Barb, hi. Ya of course.” You tell her and she smiles as she walks in and closes the door. “What’s up?” You ask as you put your pencil down and lean back in your chair to look at her.

“I’ll be blunt with you.” She starts and you tilt your head at her in question. “You have a crush on Melissa right?” She asks and you widen your eyes. “We all see it, you’re not good at hiding it.” She adds.

Well no use in trying to cover it up. “Oh god, does that mean that Melissa knows?”

You ask her and she shakes her head.

“No, Melissa won’t ever think that you’ll like her. The only way she’ll know is if you tell her.” She says and you sigh.

“Well that won’t ever happen?” You say and she tilts her head at you.

“Sweetheart, what reason can you have to not want to tell her?”

“Many reasons. About to start with the fact that she’s straight, she’s my friend, she’ll never be into me, she’s out of my league, and did I mention that she’s straight?” You say and she smiles at you.

“You did mention it. Dear, I have known Melissa a long time, and what I can tell you is that you’ve caught her eye. I’ve seen how she is when someone catches her interest and how she is with friends. She treats you differently then how she treats me and the rest of the Abbott crew, and everyone else she has ever befriended. What I’m saying is, I think if you told her about your feelings for her, you might be surprised of her answer.” Barb says and you look at her stunned.

“I’ll- I’ll think about it.” You tell her.

“I wouldn’t take too long, Gary has his sights on her too.” She tells you and you widen your eyes.

“The vending machine guy?” You ask and she nods.

“Well she might be better off with him.” You say casually.

“Why do you say that? Why wouldn’t she be happy with you?”

“Cause I’m me.” You tell her and then get back to your drawing. Barb walks up to you and puts her hand on your shoulder.

“Yes you’re you, and Melissa likes who you are.” Barb tells you and then leaves.

At the end of the day you finish cleaning up the art supplies, then you grab your stuff and leave and you bump into someone on the way out.

“Oh sorry hon.” Melissa tells you.

“Oh Melissa, hi.” You stutter. “Wha- what are you doing in this corner of the school?” You ask her, considering her classroom is on the other side of the school.

“I came here to see you.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t see you at lunch today, or barely at all today actually.” She says.

“Melissa, are you saying you missed me?” You tell her in a teasing tone.

“I did actually, if you must know.” She says and playfully shoves your shoulder. “Something happened at lunch actually.” She adds and you tilt your head to let her continue. “Gary asked me out.” She says and you stop breathing for a second and widen your eyes.

“Oh.” You say, you stayed in your classroom at lunch today going over what Barb told you before lunch. Now it seems you missed your chance.

“I turned him down.” She says and that snaps you out of your head.

“What? You said no?” You tell her and she nods her head. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to go out with him. I’d rather go out with someone else.” She tells you and she takes a step towards you. You’re breathing quickens as you look into her emerald green eyes that captures you in them. Your faces are close together, as you’re the same height, it wouldn’t take much to lean forward and kiss her. You gulp as you realise she’s waiting for you to say something.

“And who is it that you’d rather go out with?” You ask and you glance down at her lips before looking into her eyes again.

“You.” Is all she says but it still leaves you breathless. You see her glance down at your lips briefly before looking into your e/c eyes. Without thinking, you lean forward and kiss her fiercely. She kisses you back with just as much force and she grabs the back of your head with both of her hands. You place your hands on her waist and press her up against the wall and you both continue kissing each other as if your lives depended on it.

“Should we stop them? I mean it is still school property.” Janine says as the trio, Barb, Ava and Gary are watching you two make out down the hall.

“I think we should let them enjoy today. Then if we catch them making out again, then we can stop them.” Barb says, glad you both finally took the chance. “And Gary, thanks for asking her out, I knew it would make Melissa finally admit her feelings.” Barb tells him and he nods at her.

“Glad I could help.” He says and they all leave.

You both pull back to catch your breath. Melissa giggles as you look at each other. “Did you kiss all the southern girls that told you they have feelings for you?” She asks with a smile.

“I never liked them back so no.” You tell her and she cups your cheek. You surge forward to capture her lips on yours again, never wanting to pull back.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary

200 notes · View notes

persianflaw · 5 months ago

Text

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! The M*A*S*H fanfiction community has been approved! actually it was approved two weeks ago but i was on vacation

This community is open to any and all fans of M*A*S*H fic. Whether you're a writer, a reader, or a total newbie, this space is for you! You can talk about fics you've loved, ask for advice about a sticky plot point in your latest WIP, ask for recommendations for a ship you like, share an AO3 link to your latest fic, or share snippets from your work; the world is your oyster!

>> LINK <<

(As of 6.21.2024, communities don't let you generate an invite link yet, so just like/reply to this post if you want an invitation! This post will be updated with a proper invitation link once that feature is implemented.)

RULES (May be subject to change, but probably not that much change, lol.)

Be nice. Duh. Any bigotry or unkind behavior will not be tolerated. Welcome everyone with open arms and open hearts, and be ready to make new connections.

18+ only. Go nuts. Show nuts. Whatever.

No gory or sexually explicit images. Most of these go against tumblr's TOS, and we don't want the community to get deleted.

Keep things on topic. We're joining this community to talk about fic, so let's make sure we keep our posts fic-related! General discussions about M*A*S*H are fun, but not what this community is intended for.

If you don't like something, scroll past. We all like different things, and that's what makes the world interesting. If someone shares a fic that isn't to your tastes, you don't have to read it. Leaving a rude comment on anybody's post will get you kicked. (If you're concerned that somebody is posting bigoted or hateful material, let me know, but I honestly don't anticipate this being an issue at this time.)

Use read mores for long posts or NSFW material. This makes navigating the dash easier, and helps prevent people from getting jumpscared by lovingly detailed descriptions of oral sex on the subway, something that has of course never happened to me.

Tagging or using content notes for your writing is encouraged. This is the best way to find your audience. People who aren't interested in a particular subject can skip over, and you'll also be able to draw in the people who are enthusiastically interested! If you think a particular topic might be especially sensitive, a read more is never a bad idea.

Only give concrit (constructive criticism) when asked. This is a somewhat contentious topic in fandom as a whole, so we're keeping it simple and asking that members don't give criticism on fic posts unless the author specifically requests it.

And one final note:

Small groups and communities can easily become cliquish. Few things feel worse than joining a group, hoping to find like-minded people, only to find yourself surrounded by what feels like an impenetrable friend group with no interest in talking to you. Nobody wants to feel alone in a crowd.

So when you join this group, don't just talk to people you already know. That defeats the point of joining this kind of community, anyway! Make an effort to talk to someone new. Leave a gushing comment about a stranger's fic excerpt. Tag someone who you think has a really cool interpretation of a character you like. Reply to a post that hasn't gotten any attention. Include people who seem a little shy. Be open and friendly and welcoming.

#text post #mash #m*a*s*h #m*a*s*h 4077 #mashblr #mash fanfiction #mash fandom #community #tumblr community #fanfiction community #hawkeye pierce #trapper mcintyre #margaret houlihan #bj hunnicutt #promo post #GOOD GRIEF. OKAY. think i got everything down.

166 notes · View notes

scary-grace · 3 months ago

Text

Off-Script - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is my second fic for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, with the prompt 'summer blockbuster'! As usual, thank you for running this event and congratulations on the milestone!

Act 1 Act 2

Act 1

“No.”

“No?” Midoriya Izuku repeats. He taps his headset, like there’s something wrong with it instead of what Dabi just said. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t do swordfighting,” Dabi says. “It’s in my contract.”

Midoriya looks baffled, just like every newbie director who’s ever hit their head against one of the batshit provisions in Dabi’s contracts. And Dabi’s not anywhere close to done with kicking the director around. “How come I’ve got a sword, anyway? Quicksilver didn’t have one in any of the other movies. Or the comics.”

In Tomura’s opinion, Dabi should keep his mouth shut about what happens in the X-Men comics. Everything he knows about the comics and the character he plays is something Tomura had to explain to him way too many times, in detail. “We’re rebooting the Apocalypse arc,” Midoriya says. “The premise is that Apocalypse rises in every age – long enough for people to forget about him in between – and the same characters have been fighting him the whole time, reincarnated over and over again. Only this time it’s different, because four of those characters have been chosen as Horsemen, and they’re fighting for Apocalypse, not against him.”

“Great. Why is there a swordfight?”

“In the original arc, technology provided a boost to the anti-Apocalypse forces,” Midoriya says. “By setting it in the Iron Age, we’re taking that advantage away. That’s why everyone has weapons. Including Quicksilver.”

“Cool.” Dabi lights up a cigarette. “I’m still not doing it.”

“But –”

“That’s what I pay him for.” Dabi jerks a thumb at Tomura. “Talk to him.”

Tomura’s been Dabi’s stunt double for basically all of Dabi’s career. Most stunt doubles stick to stunts, but over the years, Tomura’s role has expanded from stunts to include anything Dabi doesn’t feel like doing. Swordfighting isn’t a stunt. It should be well within Dabi’s skills. And it is – he just doesn’t want to do it. Which means that Tomura’s up.

Midoriya looks at Tomura hopefully. Tomura levers himself up off the wall and rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Midoriya follows him to costume and makeup, yapping the whole way, trying to figure out what he did to upset Dabi so much. Tomura thinks about explaining that it’s not Midoriya’s problem and Dabi’s just like that, then decides against it. Midoriya’s the one who decided not to recast Quicksilver, and Dabi isn’t exactly known for being easy to work with. He made his own bed. Tomura’s not here to tuck him in, and he’s not here to make excuses for Dabi. He’s here to do stunts. That’s it.

Quicksilver’s costume isn’t skintight, which makes it miles better than any of the other Quicksilver suits Tomura’s had to wear since Dabi was first cast in the franchise. It’s his first time in the outfit, so he asks the costumer about it. “There was no Lycra in the Iron Age,” Magne explains as she stitches one last panel into place. “The director wanted historically accurate materials. And the SFX team threatened to quit if they had to edit any more bulges out of the shots.”

That’s a relief. Whenever a new movie in the franchise comes out, the fan blogs make lists ranking all the bulges, which is awkward at best and career-threatening at worst, given the one time a list used a shot where Tomura was doubling Dabi and ranked it higher than Dabi had ever placed on his own. Midoriya is deeply weird, even as far as directors go, but Tomura will take the wins where he can get them.

He tunes back in to what Midoriya’s saying as Magne screws around with his hair to mimic Quicksilver’s signature look. “Who am I fighting again?”

“Psylocke. You read the script, right?”

Sure, Tomura read the script. The script isn’t the problem so much as the fact that the actress playing Psylocke quit last week. “Did you find a new one?”

“Of course!” Midoriya brightens up creepily fast. “Right, you should meet her! She’s – um –”

“Up at the site already,” Magne says, spraying Tomura with hairspray without warning him first. “She was pretty quick to costume. I didn’t even have to put her in a wig.”

Midoriya beams. “She’s great,” he says. “We’re lucky we found her on such short notice.”

“Who is she?”

Midoriya says a name Tomura’s never heard in his life. Magne hasn’t heard it, either. “Come again?”

“She’s on the newer side,” Midoriya says. His smile’s looking a little insane. “Are you ready yet?”

“Just a sec.” Magne sprays Tomura again, then attaches three motion-capture dots to his forehead. “There we go. All set.”

Tomura stands up, but he doesn’t get clear fast enough to avoid Magne’s customary ass-slap. “Break a leg,” she says.

“Thanks.” Tomura slinks out of the costume tent, already in a mood.

They drive to the site in one of the various beat-to-shit Jeeps Midoriya inherited from the person who directed the last X-Men movie. Midoriya drives, which is bad all on its own, but halfway there, Tomura realizes there’s someone missing. “Don’t we need Aizawa on this?”

“Aizawa’s choreographing the first big fight scene. Most of the actors haven’t done real swordfighting before, so it’s taking a while.” Midoriya’s grip on the steering wheel goes white-knuckled in a way that makes Tomura wonder if he should be bailing out of the car. He’s pretty sure he can do it without getting a single bruise. “Even if it’s just for a few tracking shots before we cut away to you – sorry, Dabi – chasing Psylocke, it needs to look good.”

That’s fair. Tomura hates a lazy background shot, on the rare occasions when he watches a movie. Midoriya glances at him. “I know you said you read the script, but – give me your take on what’s going on in the scene.”

Tomura’s heard Midoriya ask people that before. Correction: He’s heard him ask actors before. “I’m not an actor.”

“There’s not a ton of dialogue in this scene. The physical aspect has to tell the story,” Midoriya says. “So?”

He’s not going to let this go. Tomura decides to get it over with. “During the main fight, Psylocke lifts the artifact everybody’s fighting over and runs. Quicksilver goes to catch her, but she uses her mutation to slow down time around him, which puts him on the same playing field as she is. They fight, he pulls her mask off, and figures out she used to be on his side. Then she cheap-shots him and escapes with half the artifact. Did I get it?”

Midoriya nods, but he’s frowning. “Quicksilver and Psylocke are foil characters in this interpretation of the story. He’s Magneto’s son and she’s part of a family of heroes. When they recognize each other, it should be a shock – they’re not just seeing a friend who’s now an enemy, they’re each seeing the person they should have been. So the back half of the fight should, like, reflect that.”

Tomura doesn’t do emotional turmoil. “You want Dabi for this.”

“That was the plan,” Midoriya says. He sighs. “Just – do your best, okay?”

Tomura was doing high-wire stunts while Midoriya was still in high school. He doesn’t need hyping up for a swordfight he can do in his sleep. But just because he can do it in his sleep doesn’t mean the actress Midoriya pulled out of a cattle call will be any good at it. “Does Psylocke 2.0 know what she’s doing?”

“That’s why I picked her.”

Huh. Tomura crosses his arms over his chest and slouches in his seat for the remainder of the ride.

The site is up on a bluff, in a stretch of forest thick enough that barely any sunlight gets through. “This is supposed to be a nighttime scene, but thanks to the tree cover we can fake it,” Midoriya explains as he parks the Jeep and scrambles out. “Hey, guys! Over here!”

The crew looks like they’ve been waiting a while. Tomura knows most of them after spending the last seven years on the sets of various X-Men movies and hanging out at C-list afterparties. Of the group, he really only gets along with Spinner, who handles props. Everybody else is just someone else to be irritated with when they inevitably start bossing Tomura around. He props his feet on the dashboard and waits for something to happen.

“Psylocke! Quicksilver! Over here!”

Midoriya’s beckoning to him. Tomura forgot about Midoriya’s habit of using character names during shoots, and he thought Dabi was just using it as something to bitch about until right now. It’s annoying as hell. Tomura gets out of the car and skulks over, but someone else gets there first. Midoriya’s talking to her as Tomura approaches. “I know the script says you’re shooting with Dabi, but he, um, doesn’t do swordfights, so he sent his stunt double instead.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not you,” Midoriya says hurriedly. “He’s just having an off day.”

“An off year,” Tomura corrects. Midoriya jumps, steps aside, and gives Tomura his first look at you.

He sees right away what Magne meant about your hair – you match Psylocke’s design from the comments in length and color, even if the texture’s wrong. You’re a little shorter than the original actress, and you don’t look like an actress, even though the makeup artists already got to you. Actresses in big-budget films look a lot like each other, because they’re all wearing the same makeup and getting the same plastic surgeries, and they’re all the same kind of hot. You look way too much like a person. Like you should be behind the camera, not in front of it.

As Tomura sizes you up, he’s well aware that you’re doing the same thing to him, probably having the same thoughts. But you smile and hold out your hand to shake. “Hi. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Tomura shakes your hand for lack of anything better to do. “Go see Spinner for props,” Midoriya instructs, “and think about how you want to do this. Maybe get in character also? I’m not sure how many takes we’ll get before the light changes.”

“Got it,” you say. “Spinner is –”

“The guy with the swords,” Tomura says. It’s hard not to roll his eyes, and it gets harder when you fall into step beside him. Spinner is waiting for you both behind the props table. “Hey.”

“I was expecting Dabi,” Spinner says, picking up a sword. When Tomura reaches for it, Spinner chucks it to one side and lifts another. “I was gonna give him that one, but you’re better than he is, so I can trust you with this.”

Instead of the kodachi, he’s holding out a tachi to Tomura. “See how you like the balance on that. And for you, Psylocke – one katana, coming right up.”

Tomura keeps one eye on you and your sword while he’s testing the balance on his. You’re not being stupid with it, at least not yet. Holding it properly is the lowest possible bar, but Tomura’s met plenty of actors who can’t even manage that, and at least your grip looks solid. You walk a few steps away to practice sheathing and unsheathing it, and Spinner elbows Tomura. He nods in your direction. “What do you think?”

“What rock did Midoriya find her under?”

“I think she’s a stage actor,” Spinners says. Great. “Mainly musicals. She’s never gotten cast as anything bigger than an understudy.”

Tomura would facepalm, except he’s holding a sword. “Still,” Spinner says speculatively, “the director’s not a total moron. He must have seen something he likes.”

“Yeah. He likes not having to blow the costume budget on a wig,” Tomura says, probably a little too loudly. He sees your shoulders stiffen, and you turn to face him. You don’t look like you’re going to cry or anything, but Tomura’s been wrong about that before. “What?”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to practice, or if we’re doing it blind,” you say. Before Tomura can answer, you make the decision. “I say blind. It’ll look more authentic if we’ve never fought each other before.”

Tomura likes that idea, if only because the chaos will mask his total lack of acting skills, but he was counting on a practice round to test your actual abilities. Still, it’s your funeral. “Fine by me. I’m not going to go easy on you or anything.”

“I’m glad,” you say, and smile. Tomura already saw you smile once, but it was nowhere close to being this spooky. You have to be doing it on purpose. “I wasn’t planning to go easy on you, either.”

Tomura should say something – maybe along the lines of ‘we just got off on the wrong foot, don’t cut my fucking head off’ – but before he can, Midoriya orders everyone to places. He must have given you instructions ahead of time, because you vanish into the trees, leaving Tomura to follow Midoriya’s hyperspecific directions for hitting his first mark. “We’re just going to roll,” he says, as Tomura steps out of frame and braces himself to run. “I’ll call cut once things go sideways.”

Things go sideways in choreographed fight scenes all the time. Things going sideways in an improvised fight is a guarantee. “Right.”

“Psylocke, are you set?”

“Set,” you call out from somewhere.

Midoriya takes a deep breath, like he’s the one who’s about to start a fake fight. “Okay. Action!”

Fake-running and skidding to a stop isn’t Tomura’s specialty or anything, but he can make it work. He hits the mark Midoriya specified, raises his hand to the hilt of his sword without drawing it, and takes a look around. Right here and now, there’s no reason for Quicksilver to think that someone’s about to attack him. Even Psylocke using her powers to slow him down could just be a tactic to ensure her escape. She’s basically already escaped. All Quicksilver has to do is wait for her grip on time to slacken, and then –

A twig snaps behind Tomura and he throws himself forward into a roll, pivoting as he gets to his knees and drawing his sword in the same moment. You put a lot of strength and a lot of momentum into your first strike, and if this was a real fight, Tomura would be injured or dead. As it is, you checked yourself at the last second, and you take your time settling into your next attack, giving Tomura just a second or two to plan out his own.

No attack yet. His wingspan is wider than yours and the blade of his sword is longer, which means the first step for Quicksilver to avoid a katana through the neck is to get out of Psylocke’s range. You’re not screwing around, so Tomura won’t, either – he picks up a handful of leaf litter, throws it into your face, and gets to a safe distance, remembering at the last second to make it look even sort of stylized. It’s a movie, after all.

You’re taking it seriously. The suddenness of your first attack has Tomura on edge, and the lack of any direction or choreography means he’s got no idea what you’re going to do. They won’t be in the back half of the fight until he pulls your mask down, and haphazard grabs look stupid on camera. He needs to get your mask on the first try, and between now and then, he needs to put on a show.

Tomura strikes at you, and you duck, pivot, halfway inside his guard before he can reverse the strike. But you’re in too close to use your katana effectively – on purpose – and Tomura aims a punch at your torso, hoping you know how to fake a hit. You do. You exhale sharply, jerk backwards, and Tomura separates from you again.

Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? Why are you going this hard? It occurs to Tomura as he parries your counterstrike and returns a few of his own that these are the same thoughts Quicksilver would be having if any of this was real. Now that Tomura’s introduced hand-to-hand combat into the equation, you start using it, too, throwing a high kick that brushes ever so slightly against Tomura’s jaw. Tomura snaps his head sideways to make it look good, then lurches backwards in response to a fake punch to the solar plexus. He’s holding his own, and he’s in control of the fight, but to the camera and everybody else it’s going to look like Psylocke is handing Quicksilver his ass.

And you should be. Tomura underestimated you, then insulted you, and now you’re making him pay. But as interesting as the fight’s getting, it’s a movie, not a grudge match. Tomura shortens his attacks and you step in closer, close enough for him to grab your mask. Or it would be, if your face was where it’s supposed to be. Instead you’ve gotten all the way inside Tomura’s guard, stepped across him, and grabbed his shoulder with your free hand – and now you’re throwing him over your hip to the ground.

You’ve got the physical strength to pull it off – Tomura can feel it – but he gives you some help anyway, making the resulting fall look even harder than it’s supposed to. He lands flat on his back with you poised above him, pinning him down with your katana at the ready. Now would be a great time to grab the artifact, since it’s hanging on a loop around your neck, but Tomura’s got his orders, as stupid as they are. He reaches up, seizes the mask over your mouth and nose, and pulls it down.

You really can act. Tomura watches your expression shift from startled to shocked to something else, and you recoil backwards away from him. Tomura’s slow to rise, because Quicksilver’s supposed to be shocked, too. Dabi’s going to have to deal with whatever character choices Tomura’s making here, and he’s going to be pissed. Tomura doesn’t care. If Dabi wanted to have a say over what this fight looks like, he should have done it himself.

You’re pulling your mask over your face, pressing it down. You’re so busy with it that Tomura almost gets away clean with grabbing the artifact from around your neck. You catch him at the last minute and pull it back, and it splits cleanly between his hand and yours. You take one artfully reckless swing with your katana and Tomura ducks back just a little farther than he needs to. Which is when you turn and run, booking it out of frame and towards the far edge of the woods.

Some camera guy – Iida, Tomura thinks – chases after you. Tomura’s off the hook, but he holds still anyway. He’s gotten yelled at more than a few times for moving before the director’s officially called cut. But Midoriya isn’t calling cut. He keeps not calling it. Tomura can hear him, though. He’s muttering to himself.

“Hey, boss-man!” hollers the unit director – Togata, or something. “Want to call a cut?”

“Oh, oops! Cut! Definitely cut.” Midoriya sounds like he couldn’t give less of a shit. When Tomura turns to look at him, he’s got a notebook and he’s writing furiously. And mumbling again. Tomura’s worked with a lot of directors and more than a few weird ones, and once he rules out the hand fetishist and the guy who wanted the fight scenes to include real knives and real blood, Midoriya’s definitely the weirdest.

You come back from wherever you ran off to, and you don’t seem to think Midoriya’s as weird as everyone else does. “Are we waiting for notes?”

“Huh?”

“After we run a scene in a stage show, we get notes,” you say. You’re not quite breathing hard. Neither is Tomura. “Do you not do that around here?”

“Nah,” Togata or whoever says. “Usually the director just hollers at whoever screws up and makes everybody do another take.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Who screwed up? Was it me?”

“You certainly took some liberties with the scene,” Iida says. “The original intent –”

“You want original intent, don’t tell us to improv,” Tomura says. The fight with you was maybe the most intense fight scene he’s ever done. When Midoriya inevitably nixes it, Tomura wants a copy. He addresses you. “It wasn’t you. Somebody on the sound side probably fucked up.”

“Excuse me?” The sound tech – maybe Jiro? – looks like she wants to club Tomura to death with a boom mic. “I fucked up? If you two hadn’t gotten all –”

“Midoriya,” Togata sings out, patting Midoriya on the shoulder. Midoriya jumps. “Hey! Good to have you back! Should we get set for another take?”

“No.”

Mirio looks confused. He’s not the only one. “Are we taking this one back to the drawing board?”

“No.” Midoriya shuts his notebook and looks up, his eyes shining in the crazy way movie people get when they have a really wild idea. “That was the take. We’re done.”

“What?”

“That was it.” Midoriya’s grinning. “It was perfect.”

Now you look weirded out. Finally. “No notes?”

“We need some close-ups, but –” Midoriya grabs his radio and hollers for somebody to put Dabi in his costume “ – you guys did a great job. Like, even the timing – it’s going to be so easy to use those beats for close-ups, and all the character stuff – you were so in sync it was scary, but emotionally you were each totally on your own journey, and it looked –”

“Hey, take a breath. Don’t faint,” Jiro instructs. Midoriya sucks down some air, and Jiro turns to you. “You did your first fight scene in one take. Congrats.”

Spinner lifts the sword out of Tomura’s hand, then takes the two halves of the artifact from both of you. Tomura’s done here for now. He’ll hitch a ride back on the Jeep that brings Dabi up and find a place to nap. Hopefully. He feels a little too keyed up to take a break right now.

You’re still standing there, looking sort of dazed. It annoys Tomura for a second, until he remembers that you’re used to understudying in musicals, not shooting superhero movies. “Hey,” he says, and you startle. “That was a solid fight. You’re better than I thought.”

“That’s not hard,” you say. “All I had to do to be better than you thought I’d be was to not impale myself or anybody else.”

“I haven’t seen you work before today. Sue me,” Tomura says. “You know what you’re doing. That was a really good fight.”

You shrug. It pisses Tomura off. Fishing for compliments always does, and Tomura hates it – but instead of telling you to grow up, he tries to hit you over the head with it for real. “You might not know your head from your ass yet, but I do, and it was a good scene. I haven’t had a fight like that in –”

Years? A decade? Tomura doesn’t think he’s ever been in a fake fight that felt real without actually feeling unsafe. “That’s the best one I’ve done in a long time,” he says finally. “You’re a real actress now. That modesty shit isn’t cute.”

You shrug again and make your way over to where Midoriya and Iida are talking. You’re probably going to ask Midoriya if you did something wrong, and he’ll get weird and reshoot the whole thing. Or he won’t, and he’ll think you’re insecure, which drives most directors up the wall. The fight scene was good on the first take. That never happens. Excuse Tomura for wanting to enjoy it.

“Shigaraki,” Spinner says from behind Tomura, and Tomura looks at him. “That’s not how you talk to girls.”

“Huh?”

“You, like – negged her. A lot,” Spinner says. Bullshit. Tomura knows what negging is. He knows he wasn’t doing it. “You told her she sucks, and then you told her she doesn’t suck as much as you thought she did. And then you trashed her whole career before now –”

“When did I do that?” Tomura’s done with this. “I said she knew what she was doing.”

“Uh, yeah. She took you to the cleaners on camera,” Spinner says. “And I hate to be the one to say this, but you looked really into it.”

What does he mean, into it? Tomura was doing his job. If he doesn’t get into it, he has to do extra takes. “So, like I said,” Spinner continues, “if you want to talk to girls and have it go anywhere, you have to give actual compliments. Not just tell her you’re surprised she wasn’t worse.”

“That’s not what I said,” Tomura growls. He doesn’t like anything about this conversation – not what Spinner’s implying, not what Spinner’s telling him to do. “Since when do you give me advice about girls?”

“Since I’ve gone on a date in the last six months,” Spinner says without blinking. “When was the last time you went out?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Dabi spent the last six months in rehab. You could have gotten out there,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “All you did was work out and play League.”

“That’s what I was busy doing,” Tomura says. “I don’t need lessons on talking to girls.”

“Sure,” Spinner says. “Give her a real compliment next time. It’ll help.”

It’ll help with what? Tomura doesn’t know what Spinner thought he saw, but whatever it is, it wasn’t there. Tomura doesn’t date actresses. Or actors, in spite of what a bunch of Dabi’s fans seem to think is going on between the two of them. And even if Tomura was going to date an actress, he wouldn’t date somebody like you – somebody new to all of this, somebody naïve, somebody whose confidence can barely survive a single hit. Maybe you’ll be the kind of actress Tomura would date if you make it through this shoot alive. The fact that no actress would ever date Tomura doesn’t matter at all.

Even if this is the only blockbuster you ever do, he’ll get to fight you at least one more time. There’s another fight scene between Quicksilver and Psylocke later on in the script. As Tomura leans against a tree waiting for his ride to show up while you talk way too earnestly to Midoriya, he finds that he’s already looking forward to it.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #stuntman au #man door hand hook car door #a bisquared production

76 notes · View notes

aliorsboxostuff · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily.

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together. A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him.

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily.

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints.

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie.

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time.

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner.

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,”

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained.

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?”

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl.

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along.

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut.

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!”

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,”

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs.

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-”

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles.

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention’ from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.”

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen.

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…”

The door opens. The room is pitch black.

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.”

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment.

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.”

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.”

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds.

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.”

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out.

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you.

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages. He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly.

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing.

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft.

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.”

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again.

“Miguel…?”

A beat passes. Silence.

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?!

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips.

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms.

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe.

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart.

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs.

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh.

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh.

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.”

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.”

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff

130 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 4 months ago

Note

This is partly a vent and partly hoping someone reading this can offer some advice or at least insight into wtf the person/people doing this are hoping to accomplish.

Over the past few months, someone(s) has been sending purity policing “concerned” anon asks to people in my fandom, mostly about supposed untagged triggering content. Which sounds like standard anti bullshit at first glance, but there are some really weird aspects to this situation, and I don’t know what to make of it.

First, in both of the cases I’ve seen, the “untagged” content Concerned Anon complained about was comprehensively tagged, way beyond fandom norms. Concerned Anon is complaining about something that isn’t even true.

Second, the people who received these asks seem to me like really weird targets for anon harassment. From what I’ve seen, they’re both really nice people. Not in the Cult of Nice way, but in the welcoming to newcomers, supporting all shippers even the people who ship things they’re not into, willing to chat about even the most wild theory or headcanon you might have without judgment kind of nice. Good stewards of fandom, I guess is what I’m trying to say. So I don’t get why anyone would want to target them. Especially since one of them wasn’t even being harassed about their own work, but about a fic someone else wrote that they happen to like!

Third, if the source material for this fandom were a fic on AO3, it would easily meet the threshold for all archive warnings. This isn’t about Stephen King fandom, but it’s got that level of things antis lose their shit over. Why is Concerned Anon even in this fandom? Why are they ~*so concerned*~ over fic when canon is like that?

Since the first Concerned Anon ask, I’ve noticed a sharp drop-off not just in ~*problematic*~ fic, but in fic in the fandom in general. I know fandom engagement comes and goes and there could be a lot of reasons for that unrelated to Concerned Anon. I can even think of a couple specific reasons it would be happening in this fandom. But the timing rubs me the wrong way, especially since it doesn’t seem like there’s as much a of a drop-off in general fandom activity, and I’m worried the latest set of Concerned Anon asks will have an even more chilling effect on fic writers.

I hate that this is happening. I hate that people who are just out here making fandom fun are being targeted. I hate that it might be discouraging people who haven’t been targeted from writing. I hate the possibility that Concerned Anon is out there harassing other people in the fandom who haven’t responded to them or that I just haven’t seen. I hate that, as a complete fandom nobody, I probably have no power to do anything about this. I hate that the person or people behind Concerned Anon probably aren’t even going to have to face up to being this kind of shitty, because it’s all anonymous.

People pop up in the inboxes where the owner can get their comments in front of more eyeballs.

Of course they want to poison the blogs of the welcoming fans who get the newbies writing fic.

The way to combat them is for those bigger blogs to either ignore them entirely or to politely but firmly tell them where they can shove it while pointing out that they're a liar.

They're a toxic blight on other people's inspiration, and the "nice" blogs should tell them so. The failure to do so is going to have at least as much of a chilling effect as their shitty comments themselves.

75 notes · View notes

funishment-time · 5 months ago

Text

I love when I see posts that are like “where’s the DR fandom” or “the DR fandom is coming back to life” or “I know the DR fandom is dead but” etc etc as if we’re not still putting out like 10+ professional looking zines per year and a constant train of high quality fic and fan art. it probably isn’t like what it was in 2016 or whatever and to a kid with a lot of free time it may seem Horrifyingly Silent…and if you’re used to like Dunmeshi or the height of My Hero Academia it could feel grave-bound to you. but like. to a newbie like me it’s clear it never died, and isn’t dying, just actually manageable

#(affectionate)#danganronpa #as an Old this fandom has the perfect amount of activity for me

75 notes · View notes

beautifulchris · 5 months ago

Text

obsessed

pairing: dancer!lee minho x videographer!gn!reader

summary: minho was the most perfect guy you had the privilege of encountering—and working with. without even trying—or meaning to—, he got you wrapped around his fingers

genres: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers to exes!au, colleagues!au, first person pov!!

wc: 4,4k

tw: obsession, toxic relationship, swearing (in lyrics only, who would've thought), violence, injuries, mention of blood

notes: heyyy! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics, banner made by me on canva. andddd i'd appreaciate it greatly if you could tell me what you thought about it!! happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators @straykidsland

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

stray kids tag list: @raethethey

Lee Minho (1998).

Have you seen this man?

Perfect skin, heart face shape, a sharp nose, wide cheekbones, cat-like eyes, long eyelashes and pretty, pouty lips.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew it was over. He was just so attractive, always walking like he owned the place, and, without realizing it, I became infatuated with him.

I was a newbie videographer in this dancing company called Twinkle Toes. Yes, I did apply there because of its name, being an ATLA fan and all. Anyway, Minho was the best dancer they had.

The obsession started when I first saw him dance. His technique and control were perfect, I could clearly see why he was a professional dancer. All the fluid and effortlessly looking movements he made gave me goosebumps every time I was behind the camera. Or anywhere inside the room, really.

I approached him first. Complimented him on his dancing, which seemed to please him. I kept being supportive and throwing seductive glances his way every now and then. I became hungry for his attention.

Oh, my Lord, never met someone like you before Think I'm kinda going overboard Now I'm obsessed, how can somebody be so perfect? Boy, you really got me by the neck Whatever you want, you just gotta ask

I made no secret of my admiration. Soon, everybody knew but I couldn’t care less.

“You’re so strong, Minho,” I mused from behind the camera. “Thanks to your efforts, the video will come out perfectly.”

He failed to suppress a smile, yet dismissed the compliment with a vague movement of his hand. “It’s a team effort.”

Of course, I knew that. Yeah. The fourteen other dancers were good, but none of them were in the same league as Minho. He was above everyone in this company.

I was usually right.

After filming ended, I took my stuff—camera, tripod, laptop—and walked towards my designated studio where I could work on editing. I wasn’t totally installed when someone knocked on the door. It was so faint I thought I’d dreamed it, until they knocked again.

I opened the door, revealing a shy looking Minho, who didn’t seem to be able to meet my eyes. I found it adorable.

“Yes?”

“Uh, I… Can I come in?”

Now, why would he even want to come inside? Was my flirting so powerful that he already wanted to spend more time with me? I wasn’t one to complain about that.

“Sure,” I said, taking a step back and closing the door behind him.

“So that’s what your studio looks like,” he commented, looking around.

It was a small room with a large desk filled with everything I needed to do my job. The stuff I had with me in the danceroom plus a computer, lenses, microphones, cables, memory cards… Everything was perfectly organized. Bigger equipment—camera bags, studio light, reflectors, tripods—were tidied next to the desk. A gaming chair was in front of it, and on the other side was a two-seater sofa.

“Do you mind if I stay with you while you work?”

I smiled internally. It was so easy.

“No, of course. Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, finally. Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For letting me stay with you.”

SCREAMING. PUNCHING THE WALL. I could’ve smacked his arm right now for saying this so casually. Sure enough, I didn’t. Instead, I motioned for him to sit on the sofa while I placed my laptop on the desk before opening it.

I could tell I was professional with how well I handled the situation I was in. I kept my desire to turn around and stare at him buried inside me as I edited the video. I had a week to finalize it for an upcoming dancing contest. I was determined to show the dancers’ best side through the video. I also tried not to show Minho too much, even though he was around 20% more present than the rest. It wasn’t my fault the videos he was in were better.

Oh, well. It was common knowledge he was our best hope at winning.

It was getting late, and I was feeling hungry. I saved my progress, switched off the computers and turned around. I’d imagined Minho to be fast asleep, as my job could be found boring from the outside. To my surprise, he was looking straight at me.

“Are you OK?” I asked, conscious he had been waiting for a long time.

See, I checked the time before closing my laptop. I had been working for a bit more than two hours.

He nodded. “Are you, though? Don’t you feel sore?”

Now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t feel my butt anymore. A common occurrence in this field. I got up, stretched arms, back, legs and unintentionally yawned.

“Do you want to get dinner?”

He seemed nervous all of a sudden. Ah, if I could make him mine right now…

“Only if you pay.”

“Deal.”

Ten minutes later, we were walking side-by-side toward a little restaurant owned by a strict-looking yet lovely grandma near our workplace. We’d eaten there before, with our coworkers.

As a typical small-business Korean restaurant, the room was approximately ten times bigger than my studio. Twelve four-seater tables were placed around the room at a relatively safe distance from each other. On every one of them were a wooden cutlery holder for four, and a matching little box full of thin napkins. The walnut-colored counter was on the far end of the room, and the hole that was supposed to be a door behind it led to the kitchen. The only thing giving a bit of privacy to the cook were white lace curtains attached to each side of the… door-shaped hole. On the left side of the room, a TV screen and posters—with pictures—of the menu were displayed on the wall. While on the right side, as well as a bathroom door, were decorations and an ‘appreciation wall’ with a lot of little notes and doodles from customers.

I wanted to sit next to it. If we ran out of things to say, we could always talk about that.

Grandma greeted us with a smile when she saw us, showing us to a table on the opposite side. “Hello grandma, can we actually sit at that one? It’s easier to watch TV there.”

Of course, I had no intention to watch TV, but no one needed to know that.

“Sure, my child, go sit. I’ll be right there.”

Thanking her, we sat right next to the rating wall.

There was one other customer closest to the counter. A regular, by the looks of it. Grandma went to the kitchen and came back with a steaming dish. She delicately put it down in front of the man before providing us with the menus. He thanked her and resumed his reading of a journal. Which I couldn’t identify because I don’t read journals.

Minho and I looked at the menu like we had no idea what to order. While I already knew what his favorite dish was, I opted for something I hadn’t tried before. You see, I like to try everything on the menu. It was a habit in restaurants I often went to. Of course, if it were to be a one-time restaurant, I would order the food that makes me salivate the most. Minho preferred savory foods. The tastier, the better.

He rapidly scanned the plastified paper on the table before looking up at me. “I’ve chosen. You?”

I straightened up, flashing my signature grin, and nodded once. “Same. Any drinks?”

“Soju?”

“Sure.”

Three young people entered the place. Grandma placed them on the left side of the room and came to us. “What would you like, my children?”

“Bulgogi bibimbap for me, please.”

“Jajangmyeon and a bottle of soju, please,” Minho ordered, taking the menu from me and giving them both back to grandma with a sweet smile.

She smiled like a lovely grandma would—contently with a hint of nostalgia.

We never got to speak about the appreciation wall nor did I once glanced at the TV, because we talked a lot and there were few moments of silence.

After that dinner, we spent a lot of time together outside the company. I believed he enjoyed my presence as much as I savored his. We flirted, went on dates every now and then, and recently started dating.

Then, around two months after our first day together, a new, talented dancer entered the company. Her body had beautiful curves. She had long, black silky hair, and toned abs. It didn’t help that she was gorgeous, social, and easygoing.

In just a few days, she had befriended the whole building. It felt like she had always been there. To my dismay, even Minho seemed to like her.

“What do you think of Soojin?” I asked as casually as manageable, considering I was eager to get an answer.

“She’s cool.” Minho shrugged, looking up at the blue sky. “And a good dancer. Why do you ask?”

How he could manage to look so ethereal under the sunlight yet give me such a soft glance was beyond my understanding. He got a hold on me, that was for sure.

“I agree, she’s good. You might have to share your spotlight in the next competitions and projects.”

He smirked. “Was about time. It’s been lonely up there.”

I knew he was joking. He never considered himself as above his colleagues. I frowned for another reason. I couldn’t ignore the thought from overwhelming me. Was I not enough for him? Was I just a pastime? I wasn’t a dancer. Was it a dealbreaker for him?

Minho’s gentle glance became a concerned stare as he stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you like me?”

He opened his mouth, but I couldn’t wait for his response.

“Am I good enough? Do you like Soojin more? Do you want to date her? Are you just playing with me?”

Because I would still be wrapped around your finger either way.

“Hey, breathe, babe. I’m here, I’m with you.”

I did as told, and my next words came out as a whisper.

“Are you though?”

“Where is all this coming from? Why would I be interested in Soojin?”

“She’s gorgeous, talented, and a sweetheart. Who wouldn’t like her?”

He smiled softly, taking my hand in his. “Is this your way of telling me you’re interested in her?”

“I’m serious.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I like you.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t get rid of the voices.

Soojin and Minho were the jewels of the company. Meaning they had way more screen time—which was my job—and training sessions together—which was their job. I had to stand behind my camera for hours while watching them dance together. Helplessly watching their bodies touch and their breaths tangle. The sensual moves made me want to break something.

Jealousy stirred up inside me, and I think it showed, because several colleagues around the room sent me looks of pity and sorry.

I knew it was just the job for Minho, but I couldn’t help it. It was beyond my control. Ever since the choreographers created this dance, I have been vile to Minho. Exposing my jealousy to him in private.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I hate hurting you. Really. However, I can’t simply stop dancing. It’s my dream life.”

“I’m not asking you to stop doing what you love, I’m asking you to stop doing it with her!” I snapped.

“Doing that will get me fired, you know that. I told you I picture you whenever I’m dancing with her. Is it not enough?”

He was pleading, but I could sense he was tired and frustrated.

“I like you, not Soojin. I need you to understand that.”

“You say that now,” I said in a low voice, “but I see the way she looks at you.” My voice broke, and I looked away.

Minho shook his head. “Please, stop. I’m exhausted. I’m dating you, aren’t I? What more do you need to be satisfied?”

It stinged. The worst part was he didn’t scream. His voice was stern and accusing. No words would leave my lips. He took my silence as a cue to leave the toxic environment I created. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay away.

But I could blame someone else.

I tried to film Soojin in her less good angle, but it felt like she was flawless under any angle. It was frustrating, not even being able to compromise her while doing my job.

Minho, being smart and all, realized what I was trying to do while Soojin was doing a solo dance. His eyes were glued to me the whole time. He grabbed me by the arm the minute I finished for the day and brought all my stuff back to my studio. He made me turn around to face him.

“What did you do back there?”

I was hurt by his suspicion, even though he was right. I stood my ground and lied through my teeth. “I didn’t do anything.”

He sighed in exasperation and let go of me. “Look, I won’t say I know you because clearly, as much as I thought I did, I actually don’t. But I know you did something.” His face softened, but his lips stayed pressed in a thin line. “Please, help me understand. Why would you resent Soojin so much you’re willing to risk your job? What do I ignore?”

I was angry. Why would he defend her if nothing was happening between the two?

“Why do you care so much, Minho? Who is she to you?”

He stepped back, blinking a few times. “This again? I don’t recognize you anymore, Y/N. I thought I knew you. Since Soojin joined our crew, you’ve changed. I believe I didn’t give you any reason to be jealous of her, excluding my job. Then again, I know how to separate professional and personal matters. I chose not to where you’re concerned because I liked you. But now, I don’t think I want to do this any longer. It’s draining me, and I lost my will to fight for us.”

Wait. What?

“Are you breaking up with me? Is that it?” I sounded frantic—and I was. All I understood from his tirade was that he was leaving me, probably for her. This bitch. She dared steal my boyfriend.

“All these past weeks fighting made me reconsider our relationship. I’m sorry, Y/N. I like you, but I can’t be with you.”

He silently stared at me for a moment, hurt and determination visible on his face, before turning heels and heading out.

My legs gave out. Minho broke up with me. I had no intention to accept this. It was all this woman’s fault. She had bewitched him, I was sure of it.

When I ran into Minho the next day, he avoided looking me in the eyes. Everybody could see something was wrong. They could even sense it, as the tension was thick in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Soojin asked as she entered the room. She looked around the room and offered me a sweet and innocent smile.

I wanted to lunge at her. It took everything in me to stand still.

“Let’s get started,” the director said as soon as his left foot touched the floor. He clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. He stopped at the center of the room. “Today we’re going to film a two-minute promotional video for our project. I count on you, Y/N, to make this video as appealing as all the other ones you made until now.” He winked at me. “Dancers, I expect you to be in good shape. I need you to accentuate your moves.” This time, he winked at Minho and Soojin.

I was close to rip my hair out.

We did as told. While the dancers gave their all in their dancing, I moved around them with my camera to capture their moves from different angles, creating a nice flow. Nowadays, videographers would use a gimbal to provide support and stabilization, but my camescope and feet were all I needed. This type of work called for a more natural flow, which could only be done without any device.

I knew how to be professional, too, but hated every second I spent filming the top dancers sensually touching each other’s bodies, especially from this close. The looks they gave one another, were they really only professional? I wasn’t sure Minho had ever looked at me like he was staring at Soojin at this moment.

I decided to put aside my anger for the sake of my job, and made the best promotional video yet. Not that I would ever admit it, but their chemistry was undeniable and greatly increased the quality of the video.

Slowly, but surely, I watched Minho and Soojin grow closer. I tried multiple times to reconnect with him to prevent the inevitable, but he was unyielding. He wouldn’t let me touch him and refused to be in a room alone with me. I found his reactions a bit over the top and insulting. But, even worse, he seemed to be protective of Soojin, as if he was scared I would hurt her if he let her out of his sight.

I would, but it was still vexing.

If you go and get yourself somebody new I don't know what the hell I'd do But if I found out, I will go and turn up at her house Break a nail and rip her hair right out Huh, and I hope you like that I'm crazy like that

Life went on, Minho still got me by the neck unbeknownst to him, and I was still wary of Soojin. A month had passed and a new project started.

“This time, crew, the theme is love. I want to feel it, alright? Do whatever it takes. I’m not worried though, because I believe in you all.”

The little speech the director gave ended up with a round of applause and a whistle from several of the dancers. The choreographers were sending each other smirks, as if they were waiting for this moment. I, obviously, loathed the idea. I had barely managed to contain myself this past month. That was going to be torture.

I was right.

The first official practice for the dance, a week after the announcement, I was behind the camera. If I thought they were close during the past month, I was mistaken. For the most part, their bodies were colliding with each other in a way that made the young managers embarrassed. My blood boiled. If there weren’t all these people around, I would’ve ripped Soojin’s hair out already.

When the song ended, their faces were mere millimeters from one another. They closed the gap between their mouths. I heard a few gasps from the crowd. My eyes lost focus. The fury building inside me sent a throbbing pain in my head. I left the room in a hurry before I could regret my actions. The last thing I saw in the long mirrors were their lips connected in a heated kiss.

I wanted to throw up. I ran to the restroom and sat on the ground in one of the cabins. I touched my cheeks with the back of my hands to check my temperature and realized I was crying. I couldn’t possibly be sad, could I? I stayed seated for what felt like hours, developing a plan to get revenge on Soojin. I was not going to let her go unscathed after what she had done.

The pain eventually subsided. Rage was all that was left in me. I was determined to make the bitch pay. I checked myself in the mirror, relieved to see there was no trace of me crying, and nodded to myself to give me courage. I came back to the dance room like nothing happened. Everybody stopped moving and watched me walk to my camera.

“Sorry, I had an emergency,” I told no one in particular, shooting an apologetic smile around the room. “Please, continue.”

I changed a few parameters on the camera and the room came back to life.

I was one of the first ones to leave the room. I stored my stuff in their respective places. Minho was waiting for me when I walked out of my studio.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—-It just happened—”

I scoffed. “Whatever.”

I'll do anything for you, boy, anything Yeah, I'll do anything, anything for you Yeah, I'll do crazy shit And I'll get away with it Boy, I'll do anything, anything for you

I raced to my car and waited there until Soojin entered her own car. I watched Minho go to her window and talk to her when she rolled it down. She nodded and smiled at him. Sickening. He went to his own car and I followed Soojin when she exited the parking lot. I stayed at a safe distance, but what if Minho knew what I had in mind and warned her?

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. She drove around fifteen minutes and parked in front of what looked like a family house. Was it her own place or did she come to her parents thinking I wouldn’t dare touch her there?

I smiled conspiratorially. None of them really knew me. I parked right behind her and stormed out of my car. I stopped at her window like Minho had done earlier and waited for her to roll it down. She stared at me with fear in her eyes and gulped.

I put on a fake smile and my sweetest voice. “Come on out, Soojin, don’t be scared.”

She slowly reached for the handle and opened the door.

“Look, I’m sor—”

I grabbed her by the neck and threw her on the asphalt. She grunted and rolled over. I pulled her hair up and ignored her faint struggle, whispering in her ear. “You really thought you could steal my boyfriend from me and get away with it?” I let out a nasty laugh.

She shuddered, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re not together anymore,” she cried. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“You’re too cute. I guess that’s your advantage.”

I pulled her hair a little higher and balled my other hand into a fist. I moved my arm back to gain momentum, but never got to use it. Minho shouted my name from his car, parked right behind mine. I let go of Soojin and watched him dash towards us.

“What’s happening?”

He kneeled next to her, checking her face and scratched arms. She cried, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his stomach. I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. The second she calmed down, Minho got up and faced me. He frowned.

“What did you do?” His tone was accusing. It angered me.

“Are you for real? How could you get over me that easily? Was I nothing to you?”

“Y/N,” he warned, pinching his nose bridge. Then he gave me a firm stare. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. I just assumed you got over it the way I did.” His voice matched the look on his face.

Got over it? Oh, boy.

“I guess I loved you more than you ever did me.”

His surprised expression made no sense to me. He did not comment on it. Instead, he reached for Soojin’s hand and helped her up. “I’ll get you home,” he said softly.

He used to talk to me like that. Take care of me like that. My blood boiled but I just watched, feeling abandoned, as they walked away from me.

When he returned, a few minutes later, I was waiting, my back pressed against the driver’s side door of my car. “What was that about?” he inquired, stopping around three meters away from me, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’ll do anything for you, Minho. Anything. And I got angry at the way she snatched you from me.”

He stepped back, dropping his arms at his sides. “What do you mean, anything?”

“Literally anything.”

“But, Y/N, we broke up. You don’t have to. Besides, she didn’t snatch me, I fell for her.” My heart hurt. Did he really stop loving me that easily? “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I can’t undone our history, nor can I control my feelings.”

“You would undone our history if you could?” That was what hurt the most, I think. That, right there. He regretted being with me.

“No, but what you did today… I’m not sure I can forgive you. You scared Soojin, you scared me. If I knew you would be like this, I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please.”

Minho sighed. “I enjoyed being with you, Y/N, honestly. However, that was too much. I won’t ask you to quit your job, but can you please, leave Soojin and I alone? I feel like a dick asking you, especially since you’ll have to watch us a lot, and I also don’t want to quit this amazing company.”

“I’ll do it,” I breathed. A single tear ran down my face. “I’ll quit. I can’t stand by and watch you both all lovey-dovey. And I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

It was my fault. I planted the seed of desire in Minho’s head, and my jealousy nourished it. The plant grew and he fell in love with her. I should've known. He never explicitly told me he loved me.

Minho reached for me and for a second, I was tempted to just let him, but that would've been wrong. I wasn’t sure I could leave if he showed me affection. I turned around and hopped in my car.

“Have a good life,” were my last words to my beautiful ex boyfriend before I took off.

The next day, I gave my resignation letter to my boss, and apologized a ton for leaving so suddenly. I pretended to have an urgent family matter hundreds of kilometers away, and moved out during the week. I wanted to put as much distance between Minho and me as possible to help me forget about him. It wasn’t an easy feat. But I moved into a small apartment in another city, got a job in a dancing company named “Encore Dance” and resumed my life.

There, I met a man so pretty I could cry.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Have you seen this man?

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

65 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months ago

Note

WIBTA if I told someone to edit their fanfic so they don't get accused of plagiarism? All are adults.

A member of my niche ship server has shown me their wip, it looks really good and something much needed in this ship's tag. They've been talking about it for years, claiming it's their big ambitious project. They don't write short fics, they're a one huge multichapteted fic per fandom kind of writer I guess. I've never read any of their other works but they said they've written before, rarely punlished and always under a different account. They don't even post wips or drabbles or headcanons, they only share snippets in the dms of their friends.

This new wip is according to them a few years old. So is an ongoing multichaptered fic that's currently being published under this exact ship tag, with almost the exact same premise. The author of that one is very popular with a history to show off, and these two people don't know each other as far as I'm aware.

There's a chance that the popular author's fans might attack the newbie with plagiarism accusations and newbie would not be able to defend themself. So I'm in a dilemma. This person seems genuine, they're also autistic so I don't want to offend them or come off as trying to limit them. They're conflict avoidant and I want them to have a stress free author life in the future.

#aita #am i the asshole

89 notes · View notes

ghastigiggles · 1 year ago

Text

danse macabre

so uh. uhm. hi. i kept forgetting to post this and i feel really bad about it. i'm so sorry tadc nation here's some food for you

npc oc because i didnt feel comfortable writing anyone as a ler - not yet, anyway. but pomni needed to get wrecked so bad. she's so cute. i get cuteness aggression every time she's on screen

usual disclaimer; sfw tickling fic, very soft and fluffy, even a little goofy and silly.

"Given that our last adventure took an exciting turn, I thought doing a rerun would be a better idea today!"

A rippling groan passed through the veteran players that Caine seemed to entirely ignore, turning his attention to Pomni with an exaggerated movement.

"Something a little more calm, I'd say! Should help bring you down from any thoughts of the Void from the other day!"

"Ahh… I don't –"

"You'll love it," He interrupted, swooping back into the air with an extravagant gesture; "It's a fan favourite! Everyone knows it, everyone loves it, it's… 'Where in the World is Sir Wigglesburg?'!"

Pomni, of course, didn't miss the way everyone else in the room tensed up – though she didn't catch the way Gangle actually perked instead, immediately shooting sideways glances at everyone else before poorly mirroring their tension.

"... You're kiddin'," Jax muttered, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Caine simply continued as though he didn't hear the rabbit while Bubble floated nearby with an empty look in her eyes.

"Sir Wigglesburg is one of our most esteemed citizens –"

"Not an actual player," Ragatha helpfully cut in with a glance to Pomni, trying to give her context.

" – with a terrible habit of wandering off! His dear wife has, once again, asked us – rather, you – to lend a helping hand and bring him home safe! The first to lead Sir Wigglesburg back to the stage shall win a prize! (To be determined, prize may or may not meet or exceed expectations.) Good luck!"

And, with no further context or instruction, their ringmaster and his companion entirely disappeared. There was a brief silence before Zooble grunted, already walking away.

"... Right. I'm going back to my room, then."

"Aww, somebody too chicken to help the poor guy?"

Jax sneered in their direction, and they shot him a searing glare; "Well, if you want a repeat of last time, be my guest. I don't."

"I will also take my leave," Kinger muttered in a hurried fashion, looking askance; "The last time we did this, it was before… Mngh…"

Ragatha offered him a sympathetic smile, nodding as the other two softened just slightly.

"It's alright, Kinger. We understand."

"Thank you… If you do take on the quest, give Sir my best."

With that, both Zooble and Kinger headed towards the living quarters, leaving Pomni to finally pipe up again, looking between Ragatha and Jax.

"... So, um… W-what's so upsetting about the rerun, anyway? Is it, um, bad…?"

"Oh – no, not – not per se," The ragdoll replied quickly, tapping her chin; "I mean, Caine wasn't lying… This is one of the calmer adventures."

"Yeah. You should do it, newbie."

Both sets of eyes snapped to Jax, who simply grinned passively. Ragatha squinted.

"... And I don't suppose you'd be coming along?"

"I will, actually. Could be funny. What about you, Rags?"

Though she grimaced, Ragatha sighed in resignation, turning a little to give Pomni a small smile.

"Well, I'm not gonna let her go it alone… Again."

That much, at least, gave Pomni heart, and she almost smiled back – until she realized one of their party wasn't accounted for, and her brow furrowed.

"Uh… Where's Gangle?"

The other two also seemed to only just notice Gangle's absence, and the three of them glanced around briefly before their search was cut short by a distant shriek from the player in question.

"That sounded like her…!"

"Is she getting hurt?! W-what if someone else abstracted?!" Pomni shot them a panicked glance; "Sh-should we –"

"Let's go investigate before anything else," Jax interrupted calmly, barely keeping the amusement from his face as he gestured for Pomni to take the lead. When Ragatha shot him a glare, he simply shrugged, following after her with the ragdoll shortly behind.

They had little more than a vague direction, down a corridor and two left turns that seemed to dim the further along they went; Gangle made no further sounds, giving them little in the way of direction, and eventually Pomni sighed haplessly, squinting into the darkness.

"... It's no use… Should – should we go find Caine again…?"

She was met with silence, and turned around – only to find Ragatha and Jax were nowhere to be seen, and her stomach dropped with dread.

"... Guys…?"

"Ooh? Who is this…? A face I've yet to see and greet?"

At a new voice, Pomni yelped, whipping around – and coming face-to-face with what appeared to be some kind of massive, cartoonish caterpillar. His body appeared to be covered in green fur, disappearing into the darkness past his neck – or so Pomni assumed at first glance, anyway. His face and what could only be described as underbelly were covered in white fur that parted around his features, such as a long purple nose and big black eyes – one of which sported a golden monocle. And, of course, his hands had the same cartoon glove sort of thing that Kinger had going on, though this time with black noodle arms seemingly attached.

In her shock, she entirely lost her voice, merely stammering wordlessly – and earning a chuckle from the caterpillar looming over her.

"Such a small thing, you are! 'Tis a pleasure, indeed!"

Smiling, he extended one of his hands for a shake, a gesture that finally managed to pull Pomni from her stupor.

"I am Sir Wigglesburg! And you, my gentile jester, would be…?"

"A-ahhh…" Though hesitant, she extended her own hand, despite it being barely half the size of his own, "P-Pomni – woah –!"

The moment their palms yet, Wigglesburg pulled her closer, twirling her around so suddenly that her eyes spun in alternating directions – and as she was steadied again, pulled along by his sudden movements, she was abruptly made aware of his overwhelming amount of hands, with a second dominant one taking her free hand to hold her steady while two more settled on her back and hip, respectively.

"Pomni, Pomni! A wondrously adorable and charming name! Please, indulge me with a dance – 'tis a formal greeting between my people!"

"I – I'm actually – ah!"

The hand on her hip pinched her side unexpectedly, making her jerk in an attempt to escape – yet Wigglesburg easily moved with her reflexive maneuver like it was a step in her dance.

"I'm actually – ehh! – l-looking for s – hey! – some – sohome –"

The hand squeezed again, and again, and again; and every time, she tried to sidestep or wiggle away – and every time, it just encouraged their "dance", with Wigglesburg's gentle but firm grip keeping her upright despite the giggles bubbling in her chest and the involuntary smile that had been pulling at her lips.

"My dear Pomni," Wigglesburg crooned as though she wasn't struggling to articulate a sentence; "You are a wonderful dancer!"

" – Ghhh, thank you…? But I – ah!! – would you plehease –"

She squeaked again as she was suddenly pulled into a dip, very nearly panicking before she realized Wigglesburg was still supporting her gently. His wide smile was kind and sweet, but undercut by the mischief in his eyes as he looked down at her.

"... That said, you are giggling quite a lot! I didn't think dancing with a wyrm would be that much fun for you!"

"I-It's not the dancing – GyaAH –"

"Is it not?"

Pomni couldn't manage a reply, stuck in a fit of uncontrollable giggles caused by the fingers wiggling at both sides, forcing her to squirm back and forth with no true escape from the unexpected and overwhelming sensation. Wigglesburg hummed, tilting his head with an adoring expression.

"I say, I was under the impression that it was the jester who caused nobles to laugh, not the other way around! Yet, here you are, practically beside yourself…"

For a mercy, he did release her hands, and she immediately brought her arms in – not that they did much, proportionately, to protect her.

"Aheheh, I can't – I cahahan't –"

"Oh, my poor dear, does it tickle? Are we feeling a little sensitive?"

She hiccuped through her laughter at that, shaking her head and ducking down; it felt like the teasing sent a shot through her nerves, which only made it worse when he started scratching experimentally at her ribs, prompting a few snorts to escape her as well.

"Ngh – nahahaa, not th - thehehere…!"

"What? Here? Or here – oh, dear me."

His hands shot to Pomni's underarms for just a few seconds, but it was enough to prompt a shriek from her, wriggling and kicking fruitlessly with even more vigour than before.

"NnnoOHOHO – gh – $%^@# – I cahAAHAAN'T –!"

"Yes, I can see that! 'Twould seem that 'tis an especially sensitive spot."

"Plhehe – PLEHEEHEEHEASE!"

She threw back her head with a loud cackle as Wigglesburg doubled down, every stroke of his fingers sending shocks down her arms and through her body – but she only had to endure it a moment longer before he finally laid off, lightly massaging her sides with his thumbs as she gasped for breath – an act that was more instinctual than actually necessary, given that breathing wasn't really a thing anymore – with a goofy, natural smile still stuck on her face.

"I do hope you can forgive my zeal in tormenting you," Wigglesburg offered after a moment, smiling apologetically; "I cannot help myself around the players."

"I – it's… Haah…" With a final breath, Pomni shook out the residual giggles, looking back up at Wigglesburg; "It's alright…"

"Oh, I figured! You never once asked me to stop, after all."

She stiffened at that, her eyes widening as she searched her memory – because, surely not… And yet, he was right.

She had no idea if the digital avatar could blush, but with how hot her face felt upon that realization, she really, really hoped it couldn't.

"But enough of that – you were searching for someone, yes?"

"Uh! Um. Y-yeah. You, actually, but also – Gangle, if you've seen her…"

"Oh! My dear Gangle has been here all along!"

Pomni blinked dumbly, and Wigglesburg chuckled, curling in on himself and cradling her close as his spine arched up to where she could see clearly – and, sure enough, Gangle was splayed out in the wyrm's green fur, seeming a little sleepy and out of it… Yet, content, even as she looked up and waved at Pomni.

"But… Her scream…"

"'Twas a scream of joy and laughter," Wigglesburg assured her; "Gangle is one of my favorite dancing partners – and I, hers! I admit, I went overboard this time, though… It has been too long since the last time."

"Oh."

A lot of things made sense, now. The way everyone had seemed tense and awkward when Wigglesburg's name came up; Gangle's quiet disappearance in the wake of the adventure's start. The little comments everyone was making towards each other…

"Pomni! Are you alright?!"

Ragatha's voice pulled Pomni from her thoughts, and she looked down to see the ragdoll standing below, looking up with faint relief… And heavy amusement. Shortly behind her stood Jax, smug as ever – yet, notably, keeping a good generous distance between himself and the wyrm.

"Uh. Yeah," Pomni replied; "I found Gangle? And… And Sir Wigglesburg."

"We know. We heard you," Jax chuckled, easily side-stepping to avoid a tiny kick from Ragatha. For her part, the doll smiled.

"That's great! Let's head back to the stage and wrap up this adventure, then!"

Sir Wigglesburg, however, pouted a little, looking down at her.

"Oh, are you sure I can't convince you to share just one dance with me…?"

"Ahh… Maybe next time?"

Ragatha offered him a nervous smile, and Wigglesburg sighed dramatically – but he didn't object, simply setting Pomni on his back near Gangle before he began to crawl along on the path back to the stage. Distantly, Jax grumbled about not being offered a ride as he and Ragatha followed on foot.

In the softness of his fur, Pomni felt a tempting urge to "nod off", partially encouraged by the dance she'd just been through – but Gangle's voice, just barely loud enough to be heard – kept her in the waking world.

"... I'm glad you like his game. I've been the only one for awhile… Knowing someone else likes it makes me feel less weird."

And, with a small nod in response, Pomni hid her smile in the wyrm's fur.

Maybe not every part of the digital circus was terrible or terrifying.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tatc #tadc tickles #the amazing digital circus tickles #lee!pomni #lee!gangle #i'm not tagging every character this time you can't make me!!!!!#if anyone wants me to draw sir wigglesburg and his wife (lady wigglesbury. if u even care.) lmk i kind of really love them tbh #they were literally meant to be a throwaway like. gloink queen esque standin but honestly i vibe so hard with them...#anyway here u go. eat up. tastey food #my fic

226 notes · View notes