#haven’t been on here for like a week prolly

[rabidty]

i used to be so active what happened ugh send asks i miss u guys i miss tumblr :(

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 Part 1

Next Chapter.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: After a close game and a couple bad decisions, the media has pitted you and Paige against each other. When you finally meet off the court you’re not sure what to expect…

A/n: got many requests for some sort of rival player type-thing!!! I combined some ideas to please the masses :) there will be more parts obv. This chap is pretty long so sorry for that!!

___________________________________________________________

“This question here is for Paige again. Now, is there anything you have to say about the little altercation near the end of the third quarter with number 3 on USC? it was quite a tense moment!”

The blonde smirks to herself, her hand rubbing her forehead. “There ain’t much to say. I went for the ball and obviously she did too. I’m not tryna give anything up, I jus personally think I got it first but that doesn’t matter anymore.” She shrugs. “Thas it.”

There’s a pause for a moment, before she opens her mouth again. “I will say though, ion have much patience for players who can’t control their language.”

Her teammates share looks at this comment, and the reporters attempt to press further but Geno ensures Paige doesn’t talk for the rest of the press conference.

“(Name) how many times have you watched this fuckin video.” JuJu comes up from behind you, scaring the shit out of you and snapping you back to reality.

“I haven’t watched it that much.” You roll your eyes. “I just…never mind.”

“It’s time to move on, shit like this happens. Jus gotta keep on that grind.” She says, sitting down beside you. Despite being a freshman, Juju was naturally mature. You and her had become a popular junior/freshman duo both on and off the court. You pushed her harder and she kept you on your toes.

“I’m moved on.” You huff.

“No you’re not…look at yo hands gripping your phone.” She laughs and you roll your eyes.

The issue wasn’t the prolonged tussle for the ball when your team played UConn, it wasn’t Paige barely regarding you, or her shading the occasional curse you’d let slip during a game. These things all fuelled what really was bothering you. The way you responded.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER, POST UCONN GAME

“Where’s JuJu? Prolly eating or something she’s lowkey a big back.”

You laugh at your roommates response to the question. It had been a weird couple of days since USC faced UConn, usually there wasn’t a lot of buzz around women’s college games but this year was different. The media was all up on everyone, especially UConn since Paige returned in better health for her senior year. You decided to go live to have some fun and interact with your viewers, even though your mind was elsewhere.

“What were your thoughts on how you guys played Connecticut?” You read aloud from the chat. “Um, they’re great. I mean it was pretty close. Me and the girls did what we could and we’re gonna kill it next year, so.” You say, perfectly passive and normal. In your head you were furious at how close the game had been, but there was nothing you could do.

Near the end of the third quarter, you and Paige had a little tussle for possession of the ball. You could’ve sworn you’d gotten it before pale skinned hands darted out for the grab, almost stealing it from you before your instincts kicked in and managed your grip. You vividly remember the yells from teammates, coaches and the stands as you and Paige momentarily wrestled for the ball, her tongue sticking out between her lips and her eyes determined before number 3 on her team tore her away.

Grazing your hand against hers at the end of the game was humiliating, and she was undoubtedly looking forward to it; holding your fingers a moment too long before letting out the most agitating, self-fulfilled “good game” with a smile that would’ve warranted a punch to her teeth had you not been on camera.

You didn’t bother to smile back, but muttered a perfectly timed “bitch” just as her hand let go of yours. Nobody heard it except you and her, and the subtle change in expression from haughty to straight faced was a beautiful sight for sore eyes.

“They keep asking about the thing with Paige.” Your roomie reads, and you shove her. “Bro why’d you say that out loud…now I have to address it.” You whisper to her, annoyed. She wasn’t on the team, and didn’t think about things like that.

She shoots an apologetic look, and you decide to act like nothing happened. The damage is done though, because now all the comments are about Paige.

“You handled the press good after.”

“If I was you I would’ve taken it off the court ngl”

“You were wrong for that!”

“What happened with Paige???”

“The way she was looking at u after….mm”

“Did you see what she said on the panel?”

Scanning through the various questions you found it harder and harder to not think about it. Basketball is a contact sport, things like a fight for the ball weren’t rare. Sure it was a little aggressive, but nothing you weren’t ready for. Paige seemed ready herself, her hands gripping the already-in-your-grasp ball, her eyes shooting you the coldest look they could muster. You’d already seen edits of her all over social media, tousling with you for a moment before being dragged off by Aaliyah.

JuJu walks into your dorm and sits next to you, reading the comments as well. She slightly shakes her head at all the mentions of Paige, but greets the chat nevertheless.

Fuck it. It’s late night, you’ve been getting annoyed by all of this attention on Paige and you, and people weren’t gonna forget about it anytime soon. One comment won’t hurt.

“Did I see what Paige said on the panel?” You read out loud. JuJu shoots you a look. “Yeah…I did. ” You say, suspicious as possible. “Ion know…i jus don’t have much patience for that swiper no swiping shihhh…..stuff.” You mock Paige, then catch yourself before fully saying shit. Two digs at the blonde at UConn in one sentence, one for her statement and the other for her criticism on your swearing.

You, your roommate and JuJu all look at each other for what seems like an eternity before bursting into an explosion of laughter. You were just being petty, it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.

It kinda was.

PRESENT TIME

You’ve always loved east-coast America. It has a different kind of feel, especially during spring. The weather was getting hotter and everyone is hyped for summer break, at least those without classes. You and some of your teammates were going on a little Big East road trip, and of course the east meant places like New York, Michigan, Boston, Rhode Island, Connecticut.

God, you weren’t ready for Connecticut. The media was really eating you and Paige’s (non-existent) beef up, and you wondered if it would translate into real life. What was worse was that you had a friend who went to UConn who you were seeing for sure.

“I am not coming to your school.” You said hastily over the phone.

“Chill.” Elaine, your friend responded. “Nobody wants you here anyways.”

“Shuttuppppp it’s not funny.” You whine, knowing she was joking but hoping there was no truth in the statement. You could handle the smoke of a mini rivalry, but confrontation was just awkward.

“Just be ready. The minute you’re in town let me know, we can go to my favourite bar.” She laughs.

“Got it.” You respond happily. You were gonna have a fun night out, things were gonna be chill. You’d maybe have a drink…maybe get hammered. It was gonna be good.

-

“You should go live.”

“No fucking way.” You shake your head. The bar was crowded, but nice. You understand why your friend wanted to take you.

“Are most of these people UConn kids?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Elaine responds, looking around. “This is like the Storrs hangout spot on a Friday night. Anyways, I’ve missed seeing your lives.”

“I know, I know.” You rub your head. “I literally can’t though. Like, I’m on a social media ban. Goddd, after that last live you don’t get how much shit I got.”

“I thought it was funny!” She says, and you smile. “Oh my god (Name), did you see her tweet after.”

“BYE.” you cover your face, laughing. A couple hours after the live, Paige had tweeted some sort of passive aggressive very targeted thing about how God has her back when people give her a hard time or something like that. You’d almost died when it showed on your TL.

“Have you seen all the edits comparing me n her.” You manage to get out between laughs. Sure, you didn’t have the spectacular reputation Paige did. The girl had started her college career stronger then literally everyone else, and she was top pick to begin with. Her return to the court was well anticipated, even by you.

Still despite that, you had a certain sparkle in game. You played flashy, but you could back it up. Your freshman year you were very much an underdog, a stark difference from Paige, but your sophomore year had been very different, and this year as a junior you were getting recognition that almost gave you whiplash. Your talent was undoubted.

“I think both of you guys are being extra careful on socials now.” Elaine says. “I mean Paige is pretty active, but when they go live the minute your name is brought up, which it always is, she like…mysteriously disappears from view. It’s actually funny.”

“Whatever.” You say, taking a swig of your drink. “As funny as it is, I’m tired of all this shit, it’s unnecessary. Let’s forget about her.”

Elaine lets out a cough, before covering her face. “Pfft. Um, yeah. Let’s forget about it.”

“What….what is it?” You say, raising an eyebrow. Your friends eyes are stuck behind you. When you turn on the barstool as conspicuously as possible, you feel your stomach physically lurch.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“We have great luck.” Elaine muffles a laugh.

You spin back towards her, talking through bared teeth. “You brought me to Storrs’s most popular bar on a Friday night…Storrs…fuck. That’s their campus? Seriously??!”

“Don’t be mad.” She sheepishly smiles. “I don’t pay that much attention to them…I didn’t think it through.”

“Boo, you whore. Even I know they’re like, bar-fiends.” You grumble, putting your head down. “God, just put your head down, cover me, something. I’m not tryna do this right now.”

Covering your eyes and keeping your back to the group, you ask. “How many of them are here. Tell me exactly who.”

“Umm, I don’t know all of them.” She says.

“Bitch just tell me…I swear to god.” You sneer, casually attempting to turn, discreetly letting your eyes graze the masses before they meet a pair of blue ones.

Shit.

Her eyes hold yours for a moment too long. Her hair is down instead of her signature ponytail and braids. She’s dressed casually, and posed confidently. Her expression is one of surprise…then amusement…and then something you can’t quite recognize. When her friends start to follow her gaze, you finally turn away.

“Elaine, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Calm down, it’s fine. You always say you can handle the smoke, right?”

“Yeah when I’m in California I can…not when I’m in a UConn infested bar with Paige fucking Bueckers and her cult staring me down.”

“They’re really staring. Oh, KK just pointed at you.” Elaine says, looking at them obviously. You fix your posture and adjust your hair at this.

“Are they like…coming over?”

“Yep.” She murmurs under her breath, indicating they’re close.

“Umm, hey.” A voice says from behind you. It’s low, almost raspy. You remember it being way more strained and arrogant on the court. In the bar, it was almost attractive.

“Hey.” You say, as cool as possible. Turning to face Paige and her teammates usually wouldn’t have intimidated you, you could hold your ground and you were confident in yourself, but here? On their turf? With none of your own teammates? And a couple drinks in you? Your body was already tingling, and you were terrified you would say something to dig your hole deeper.

“Think I could get a picture?” Paige says. She sounds likes she’s severely forcing herself, arms crossed and drink already half empty despite just entering the bar. Azzi’s face breaks into an amused smirk beside her, and her other friends hang back with giggly expressions.

“A…picture?” You say, confused. The three of you stare at each other for an awkward moment before you break the silence. “Sorry…that was rude of me, my bad. I just wasn’t expecting that.” You laugh. “If you actually want a picture I can do that for you.”

“Thanks.” Paige smiles, but there’s no happiness behind it. When she poses by you, her hand just hovers above your waist. She can’t even bring herself to touch you. You give your best smile as Azzi takes the picture on Paige’s phone.

When she shows it to the two of you, you realize why Paige might’ve wanted that picture.

“You’re gonna really shock everyone when you post that.” You say, laughing. Paige’s face finally breaks to a more authentic smirk that sends shivers down your spine. It’s like the one she wore when you two were facing each other on the court. Proud, confident, ready for anything.

“Never let em’ know your next move.” She says, eyes piercing yours.

-

As the night goes on the bar gets more and more busy, you have to yell over the music for Elaine to hear you. You’re not exactly trying to talk to her though, because she’s mostly talking about Paige.

“You know she’s sort of a campus heart-throb right?”

“What??” You yell, although you’ve perfectly heard what she’s said.

“She’s. Hot. Maybe you should flirt with her a little.” Elaine says.

You just shake your head. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Your luck is spectacular for the night, because there are no barstool seats left except one a little too close to Paige, who’s sitting alone and waiting for her drink. You silently curse, but are thankful her team isn’t there too. You sit by her as confidently as possible, avoiding her gaze.

She’s watching you indubitably, noting every move you make. Your posture as you sit, the Polaroid behind your clear phone case, the way your lips move when you ask the bartender for your favourite drink, these are all thinks she seemingly makes note of.

You can’t help but overhear her scoff at your drink choice, to which you finally turn and acknowledge her, raising your eyebrow.

“Out of everything you could’ve ordered you got that?” She says, haughty as ever.

“Not everyone is trying to get white-girl-wasted.” You respond curtly, eyeing her Dirty Shirley.

Paige scoffs. “You don’t talk as big as you do on your lives.”

Shrugging, you respond “Someone asked a question and I answered, simple as that.”

“Ion know bout that one.” She rolls her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you’re just feining for people to talk bout you.”

This bitch. You internally think, brows furrowed at her statement. “Wouldn’t have even been brought up if you hadn’t let your fatass ego get in the way of your media training during that press conference.” You sneer. “Now that is feining for people to talk..”

“Someone asked a question and I answered.” She smiles, sending a hot flash of anger throughout your body. “Simple as that.”

“You think you’re so smart.” You grumble out, turning your head from her. The sheer arrogance is radiating from her body, it’s annoying you to no end.

“I am.” She says, as if it’s common knowledge. “Plus, I’m not the one who started twisting words. That was you, remember?”

When your drink is finally set in front of you, you make a point to get up from the stool and grab it, sending Paige a steely look. “Good talk, Bueckers.”

“Aye, wait a sec.”

You’re already walking away, taking a big gulp of your drink when she slides off of her stool and catches up, walking beside you. You don’t miss how her eyes flick to your mouth when you wipe it clean, facing her begrudgingly.

“Why’re you even here?” She asks. “Visiting yo girlfriend?”

“Who, Elaine?” You laugh, Elaine being the straightest girl you know. “Why’re you so interested?”

“Wasn’t expecting to see some California girl in Storrs. You sure you weren’t plotting on seeing me?” Paige grins, taking a step towards you. She’s taller then you, and the way she tilts her head downwards when she speaks gives you an unrecognizable feeling that you’re planning to blame on the alcohol.

“I got up close and personal with you once, and it was enough.” You smile, holding her stare. She chews on the straw of her Shirley, her expression both amused and something else.

“Ion think so.” She mumbles.

“You don’t have to think.” You respond, looking her up and down for a moment. It feels like an eternity passes as you two challenge each other, the air gets thicker by the minute and you finally break away from her, walking as confidently as you can, far from where she can see you.

-

You don’t see Paige again after that, presumably because her and her friends went elsewhere. Laying in a hotel room next to your teammates, you can’t help but think about the blonde and how odd your interaction was. She had this way of looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking, even though you knew damn well she knew nothing except for how you were on the court. Still, despite how her voice made your skin itch and her mannerisms induced the need for violence, there was something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

As if reading your mind, your phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. You check your notifications to see a sea of messages and a couple more alien ones on Instagram.

paigebueckers started following you.

paigebueckers tagged you in their story.

jujubballin sent you a story.

jujubballin sent you a message.

kenzie_4bs sent you a story.

kenzie_4bs sent you a message.

You accept Paige’s request and view her story, which features the picture of you and Paige. You sitting and her standing, her hand just hovering above your waist, her face a curt close-mouthed smile and yours wide and genuine. It’s an interesting photo which she’s captioned “Cali meets Connecticut!”

You scoff at her version of being witty, and immediately cringe at the sheer amount of traction the post has gotten already, with at least 50 people in your inbox within the first 15 minutes of the post coming out. The messages range from “The crossover we needed!!” To “Ik you wanted to punch her white-ass” and frankly it was all too much for you. Social media, Connecticut, the messages, Paige.

She seemed to be the main article of stress in your life the past couple weeks and it seemed to smart to keep a distance from her from this point onward.

The girl really knows how to induce that shock factor.

[thenamessparkplug]

The Bad, The Worse, and The Downright Idiotic

A Wiatt Nicholson Analysis

YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE WAITED TO VERBALLY KILL THIS DUDE. I HAVE BEEN STRANGLING HIM WITH MY MIND SINCE THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING. AND THIS IS WHY.

DISCLAIMERS!! : One, I have absolutely nothing against any of the writers on this show! You all are doing a fantastic job for how small this series is and I do genuinely adore the work you guys do < 3. Second, I want to make it clear that I do not condone anything Sara has done on her own terms. And she has done bad things on her own terms. She has done horrible things and I do not think that should be brushed under the rug. I do, however, believe her to be redeemable. 

(side note I did get a lil sidetracked when talking about sara, whom I also have strong feelings towards and'll prolly get her own rant in the future)

What has Wiatt done?

Now Wiatt seems to have his heart in the right place, however good intentions hardly amount to much when your actions directly cause death, suffering, and irreversible damage.  

He can’t tell that so much of what’s going on is because Litho knows he’s going to lead people directly into his own plans. This especially became evident in the last episode. Did he not remember the risks of anything relating to Litho?? Why on earth would he think it was safe for Pen, Lisa, or even Hayden whom narrowly survived? 

I know by this point to take everything character’s say with a grain of salt (and I know this isn’t directly Wiatt’s fault either), but I really wanna get into what Hayden said while yelling at Wiatt. He states that since he arrived at dreamworld, someone has gone missing every week. Wiatt has worked here for at least a year. Even considering taking a month off for the collapse fiasco, that is 47 weeks. 47 people. THAT IS INSANE. Even cutting that number in half for hyperbole’s sake that’s still 23 missing people since Wiatt started. Jesus christ man. 

What else has he done? He broke Starlight after recklessly jumping into a hole, got wtdw!rainbott seemingly mindwiped, recorded entirely private and frankly unrelated moments and UPLOADED them, been responsible for the deaths of his coworkers (to name a few anyways), and what does he have to show for it? A police station that thinks he’s insane. He couldn’t possibly have been more tactless trying to convince them to begin an investigation. 

It seems he thinks that because the people he’s against are bad, that automatically makes him good - in the right - but he is so blinded by his sense of a binary wrong and right he fails to see the horrible things he himself has caused. 

Against the Antagonist

I wanna talk about Sara for a second. From what we’ve learned thus far, and I know we haven’t gotten all that many Sara scenes, almost all of what Sara does seems to be attempting to clean up a mess she made many years ago, in comparison to Wiatt who does absolutely nothing but stir the pot.

Sara is stuck here; she is bound to Litho and cannot escape no matter how hard she wants to. She had friends. She’s doing what Litho wants because she has to. We saw what happened when she tried to defy him. Wiatt is only here because of one connection, but could literally leave whenever he wants no harm no foul.

Now the Norman thing I am curious about, because so far, I can’t figure out why 1. she killed him in the first place and certainly 2. why she kept the footage of it. She never seemed to hate Norman, if anything she would be against him for clearly being infatuated with Andrew, and I can’t really blame her for that? I mean nothing is enough to justify murder, but it wouldn’t be in cold blood. I’m also assuming this is before Dreamworld Entertainment due to the fact that Norman seemingly had no involvement. Another odd thing not only was he rebuilt to look exactly like he did when he was alive, but he retained all of his memories as well, and was given a higher power among the staff of Watchful Eye Toys, with memory control himself.

Whatever happened during his death must have been important.

But back to Wiatt. All of Sara actions, albeit terrible, were calculated and she did what she believed was necessary. Wiatt has no concept that his actions have consequences, so all he does is messy things up, making everything far worse than it needed to be.

Why should I care? (Comparison to Eric)

At the very beginning when Eric is first introduced, we are given no reason to care at all about him. I mean, we know he was friends with Lewis but that’s not enough to really grow any attachment to him. We start learning little facts about him, but when it really clicks is during the secret tapes.

Seeing Eric outside of the main plot, his real personality, his hopes, his dreams, his struggles starting from a young age up until how he is today. We’re given the chance to build connections with him and see him as a real person, a character with depth. Knowing his motivations and what built him makes it so easy to grow extremely attached, making any horrific things hit much harder.

Now moving back to Wiatt, we really don’t get to see the real him. We see him once interacting with Lewis, but even that was simply for plot relevance. We really know nothing about him. Even his transition, which would be so easy to capitalize on seeing as the viewership of Dreamworld is highly LGBTQ+, and many people would relate. But we get more about Mike’s transition than Wiatt, and he’s only ever had one real scene as himself.

That’s not even dipping into who Wiatt is as a person. What are his passions? Who are his loved ones outside of just Lewis? What was school like for him? What got him into the mechanic business? Who took care of him after his parents died? I understand this can be hard to smoothly integrate into a story but look how well it worked with Eric’s tapes.

Now this is getting much more into the writing side of the show, but I think something that's kind of lacking is character building filler. As much as having a concise plot is nice, without scenes or even full episodes dedicated to fleshing out our cast, it makes it really difficult to connect.

There’s so so much of his character to explore that we just never get into, and it kinda makes it hard to root for him when there’s nothing backing his character. Just like, a few more tapes of Wiatt would be plenty, something outside of Lewis. I would love to see his relationships with other characters (you cannot build a sense of character off one single relationship), how he views himself, just anything.

Its incredibly difficult to analyze a character when they seemingly have no depth.

In Conclusion

I am not a fan of Wiatt as it currently is (understatement of the year), but good god am I persuadable. I just want Dreamworld to give me a reason to root for him. Something to sympathize with, relate to. Have him improve. Allow him to realize his mistakes, and become a better person for that.

I don’t think he’s a lost cause.

But give me a reason to believe that.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

Therapy for literally anyone in 911

thanks ever so much for letting me use this to untangle (at least somewhat) these silly buddie boys

this can also be found on ao3 - and it will prolly make more sense after the first chapter

It’s been two months since Buck stopped fighting, two months since Eddie showed up at the location of the underground fighting ring and dragged him to the hospital. Of course, it’s been a long two months, the kind of months that feel like you lived multiple years within each one. It’s not all been bad. Eddie and Buck finally admitted their feelings for each other and are slowly starting dating—which really isn’t much different than how they were before, just with more times out just the two of them.

This has been one of the good things—Eddie is sitting in the waiting room while Buck is in their therapist's office. Their therapist—that’s still wild to think they share this and so much more now. The way this has been going is Buck gets 40 minutes if he needs it. They get 20-30 minutes for the two of them together, and Eddie gets some time afterward. He’s working through a few things he didn’t bother with when he briefly did this therapy thing after his own time in the fighting ring. Buck has put his foot down and said if he’s working through all of his stuff, then so will Eddie. They’re getting mentally healthier for each other—and Christopher.

Christopher has taken to Buck and Eddie actually being together remarkably well. Of course, he’s never shied away from his love for Buck. So, other than a few more times when they go out without him, it’s not like things have changed a lot for him yet. At some point in the future, it may, though. Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever want anyone other than Buck. He knows they need to take things slow, not necessarily glacial, but slow to protect themselves and everyone else. Neither of them necessarily has the best track record when it comes to dating. So for now, they hang out and go on dates with the added bonus of kissing and …

Eddie’s thoughts are interrupted when the door to the office opens, and the therapist motions him in. He walks in and notices that Buck looks a bit nervous. He doesn’t know what that might mean, but he just has to hope it’s not bad. He sits down next to Buck in his usual spot for therapy and smiles at him. He gets a smile back, and it relieves a little of the anxiety that was ramping up. Buck’s smiles have always had an insane effect on him, even before he realized why that might be.

Their therapist sits across from them and starts. “Eddie, Buck has something he wants to tell you to start this week's joint session. I will go over to my desk to give you a moment, but I’m here if you need me.”

Eddie’s confused. Why would they not stay in the usual spot for their sessions? Isn’t that the point of all this? He turns to Buck, who still looks slightly nervous but less than when Eddie came in. Buck smiles at him, and he feels the anxiety that is starting to ratchet up again recede. How it took him so long to realize what he actually feels for Buck still amazes him.

“Eddie, I need to let you know that I remember a few things from when I was in and out of consciousness at the hospital after surgery.”

“Okay …”

“I remember you saying you love me.”

Oh. “Oh.” That’s a development Eddie doesn’t know what to do with.

“I want to tell you, and not because of that; I know we haven’t said that yet—at least not outside our heads and both conscious, but—I love you.”

“Oh, Buck …” Eddie’s brain has yet to catch up with his mouth, so he’s unsure what to say next. He wants to kiss him and let him know that way that he also loves him, but he probably actually needs to say the words. “Buck, I love you, I’ve loved you for so long, and honestly, I think I first realized it when I was stuck in that damn well. When I didn’t know if I was getting out of there, you and Christopher were the people who kept me fighting. I had wanted to tell you then, but I got nervous, and then stuff happened so fast, and before I knew it, so much time had already passed. I missed my opportunity, or so I thought, so I kept my feelings to myself, sat on them, and they continued growing.” He stops to take a breath, and Buck lets out a giggle that Eddie doesn’t get to hear often but treasures every time he does.

“Eddie, I … you know this wasn’t a contest. You didn’t hafta take my love confession and blow it out of the water. But since you did, I’m not going to bother with a grand love confession. I will repeat, however, that I love you. Have for so much longer than I knew.”

Eddie leans across the loveseat, and his lips find Buck’s; they kiss slowly, just lips, then tongue, then Eddie nipping at Buck’s lip with teeth. Eddie sighs into the kiss; he knows they can’t stay like this no matter how much he wants to, so he pulls back. Eddie pulls back and laughs when Buck’s lips chase his before leaning in and whispering, “Later. We’ll come back to this later.”

Buck leans toward him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I intend to hold you to that.” Eddie looks forward to it.

Their therapist is joining them again, saying, “That went well. Based on what I turned back around to, I'm assuming there isn’t anything you need to discuss, but if there is, we can do that now.”

Eddie looks at Buck and shakes his head. There is nothing more he needs to say about this at the moment, at least not with just their therapist. All he wants to do is repeatedly tell Buck that he loves him—he wants to shout it from the rooftops and tell the world. Buck smiles as if he’s heard all of Eddie’s internal dialogue and turns toward their therapist, replying, “No. We’re all good right now.”

“Perfect. So, shall we pick up where we left off last week?” The rest of the appointment goes by so fast. Their joint session ends and Buck leaves the room for a bit. Eddie feels so much lighter for one of the first times since he started therapy. He feels complete. He’s ready to tackle whatever comes, with Buck at his and Christopher’s sides.

[therealgchu]

WIP Wednesday - Seven Days sneak peek

got a sneak peek for the upcoming chapter 4 for Seven Days. will prolly publish it next friday.

this friday will be a new story in the Anamnesis short stories.

tagging the coemancer crew. let's see what you got!

if you want to read my other stuff, it's on ao3.

Seven Days is here from the beginning.

seven days was all she wrote...

"Anyway, I don’t think I  have a counterpart in this universe. From what circumstantial evidence I could find, it seems she died as a teenager about twelve years ago. I believe a shootout at the Syndicate warehouse. One of the victims was a fifteen year old girl. She’s only named as a Jane Doe, but her description and age fits. And, the fact that there were no other records for her, which tracks.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It’s the first universe I’ve been in where my counterpart wasn’t present.”

That piqued his curiosity. “Have you run into her before?” he asked.

“Yes, but I’ve been able to avoid her every time, just like I had been able to avoid you,” she answered. “In some universes, she got out and made a good life. In some universes, she rose to the top of Seokguh Syndicate and was ruthless, expanding it to the UC, and even into Crimson Fleet space. In some universes, she met Sam,” she ended softly.

“And what happened in those?” he asked despite himself.

“Much the same that happened to me. Sometimes her Sam died, sometimes he survived. But, where she did meet her Sam, they fell in love, and were happy, at least for a while. I never hung around in those universes long enough to know how, or if, it ended.”

Sam’s head started churning thinking of all of the possibilities; he thought that all of the universes were the same. “Have there been any universes where I’ve been dead? Or haven’t been born?” he asked.

“Yes, several. In one, you had died as a child. In another, you had joined the Crimson Fleet, and died within the first week. In another, there was no Lillian to save you, and you had died smuggling those goods.”

“Oh god,” he whispered, his brain whirring with all the possibilities where he could have died. “So, there are universes where my gun actually jammed? Or, where I missed? There was that time I was out with my buddies rock climbing, and a piton almost slipped out…” He felt that if he wasn’t already sitting, he’d need to sit down.

“Yes, all of those times, in another universe, that happened. That is the nature of the multiverse,” she answered.

“Are there universes where I was never even born?” he asked.

“Most likely, though I haven’t come across one yet.”

His brain suddenly stopped on a thought, “And, are there universes where my mom survived her surgery?” he whispered.

The woman cocked her head to the side, “Yes, Sam. There is a mathematically high probability there are,” she said softly.

He sucked in his breath at the implication. He’d often wondered what his life would have been like had his mother survived. Jacob, while being absent a good deal when he was very young, wasn’t the cold bastard he became until after her death. When his mom died, all warmth left the house. Sam felt the only time Jacob dealt with him was to criticize and complain. He didn’t even feel like a father, more like a drill sergeant or cop, which is why Sam started to refer to him by his first name when he was a teen.

[jazzy-art-time]

I didn’t post about it on my mod blog because I didn’t want to dampen the spirits that everyone else was having but I’ll mention things.. briefly here before the year ends.

If you just follow me for art then you prolly wont know what I’m sayin!! Carry on soldier. I will post more art again soon, it’s just time for me to post a long text post that prolly 90% of the people here wont know wtf I’m on about!!

Putting under the cut to avoid long post/put that negative crap under wraps

This year was horrid for me. In many ways but.

The entire thing with the stalker/doxxer went.. a lot deeper than people realize it was. That’s due to me just not mentioning what happened directly but It wasn’t just hate and harassment and doxxing it was..

Abhorrent. I’ll spare the nitty gritty details, to be Frank idk what good it would do to mention it all.

But even so, I was not the best person this year due to this.

I became irrational and paranoid. I left places suddenly without a word (or was being told to and did so out of fear). I stopped talking to a lot of people and became more of a concept than a person to many. Got snappy and bitter a lot of the time as well. Just overall became afraid of everyone and didn’t trust anyone at all and it made me someone I didn’t want to be.

Regardless of the situation I was going through, I shouldn’t have acted in a lot of ways I did. I can play the “I was being abused so wehh it’s ok how I acted” card all I want but the reality is.. it wasn’t really cool of me. I’m a grown adult, I’ll own up to that.

And I know I caused a lot of people worry by my sudden disappearances or mood changes. I was too focused on trying to protect myself and those I cared about that I became a bit?? Of a prick. And honestly I feel like I caused more damaged trying to “protect” other people from the situation. Irony is a cruel mistress.

I let someone else get too much control over me and my actions and let them use my own mental illness against me and make me somewhat nasty.

But it wasn’t right of me, no matter the circumstance.

But it’s all over now! All over now… for now anyways. But I still have to look at the mess left in the wake of everything and try to reassemble what I can.

So, if you were someone who was effected by my irrational and erratic behavior.. I do apologize. Idk what real “good” me saying that does.. but I don’t want to just not say anything at all.

I’m not saying all this as a like NYEHEHE IVE APOLOGIZED AND NOW I EXPECT EVERYTHING TO RETURN TO NORMAL that’s not what’s happening trust me lol. This is just my own guilt welling up a bit and me chucking it out into the world for the time being

I’ve been drafting and deleting a post like this all week because I didn’t want to go into a new year just brushing everything aside. But kept wondering what good it would even do or who would even give a shit.

But. Here is this post! It exists, for now! Who knows I may wake up tomorrow and go WTF NO and delete outta paranoia. Idk!

All in all…

I’m going to spend 2024 trying to rebuild myself. I haven’t been.. myself in nearly 2 years due to everything (and IRL circumstances as well that I won’t get into).

I have a better support now. So that helps me and has been helping me get better again. Not just in recovery and help with legal things but like. Just emotionally keeping me in check lmao

So I hope in 2024, things will be better. If not for me, then for others at the very least.

I know this post was long and negative and repetitive, but if I spend too long revising it I’ll just delete it again.

Idk if anyone will actually read this but??? Shrugs. Oh well. If anything I’m being selfish and just posting this for my own personal “”closure”” if you will

Happy new years, see you all around.

[the-archangel]

Johnny's Home

I like writing for Johnny and don't do it often enough, I guess I just like being in Kerry and V's fluffy bubble!

Johnny is sat in V’s old apartment looking at the four walls, chain-smoking and going slowly batshit crazy.

At first, it suited him well; perfectly in fact, there was a bed, a shower and a couple of millionaire chooms to pull you out of the shit not 5 minutes walk away, as well as a nova strong-room that he thought he might turn into a sauna one day. It had plenty of floor space, preem views, V had even let him keep the cat.

Back in Samurai’s early days, when a dry, safe place to sleep wasn’t guaranteed, this would’ve been unimaginable luxury, but he’d known success since then, known what it was to have a door on your bedroom or a kitchen that was more than a microwave and a vending machine. He couldn’t cook for shit but that wasn’t the point, he’d like the chance to try, or at least to persuade other people to.

V had messaged to say he was coming over, he showed up a few times a week pretending he was checking on Nibbles, but Johnny knew it was really to check on him, make sure he was taking his meds, eating, doing his physio and shit. Johnny didn’t mind, ever since he’d been back he’d found himself craving V’s presence, it calmed him, filled an empty space, and V felt the same. For nearly a year he’d lived with Johnny in his head, then for another with a Johnny shaped void, now Johnny was actually here to talk to again, to argue with, to punch on occasion, it felt good, nova in fact, they made each other feel whole.

Kerry was not particularly comfortable with all of this. If you haven’t had a construct taking over your brain which then gets ripped out but later returns as a solid, real, annoying human being, you couldn’t possibly understand.  V had tried to explain why he needed him around, but it just led to arguments, sulking (Kerry) and punching shit (V). Kerry had tried to tell him what a 5 star bastard Johnny could be, how selfish he was, how he used people, how it had taken him 50 years of therapy to get over him and how he had no intention of relapsing now. V understood, he really did, Kerry and Johnny had both told him the shitty things that went on between them, but Johnny was a part of V, there just wasn’t anything that he could do about that.

V let himself into the apartment and stepping carefully over the laundry, guitars, food containers and empty bottles lying on the floor, plonks himself down next to Johnny on the couch. “Place looks like shit.”

“Thanks, you look like shit.”

Banter over, Johnny rummages through a pile of detritus and finds a half-full bottle of tequila which they share in companionable silence.

“Wanna move V, the walls are closing in on me here, feels claustrophobic, like I can’t breathe.”

V dwells on this for a moment, “Well, what are you looking for? We can prolly help you out, have to talk to Ker though, don’t think he’d like it, but I can usually talk him around.”

“Don’t need your fucking charity V, in case you’ve forgotten I was a fucking rock star, gonna get me my royalties back and I’ll be fine.”

“Um, so, you going to hire a lawyer?”

Johnny snorts, “Shit no, corpo scopbags, gonna do it myself.”

V makes a mental note to put some eddies aside, what Kerry doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Make a list of what you’re looking for and I’ll swing by in a couple of days and help you look.”

Unusually for Johnny and V, this is actually quite a sensible idea, so after V leaves Johnny begins to write his list.

-

Later that evening, V is holding court at the Afterlife. He settled into his role as its king more easily than he liked to think and he enjoyed it, the only sour note was that he knew how blown away Jackie would’ve been by it all. V raised a drink to him nightly and had his picture behind the bar.

Kerry was coming over to keep him company, maybe grab a couple of drinks, V still got a thrill when he saw him, especially under the smoke-dimmed neon of the club which highlighted the blue of his eyes and glittered off the gold implants sweeping down his fucking beautiful cheekbones, and so he was feigning attention on what was going on around him and looking out for his input. V stands as Kerry arrives at the booth, the hangers-on around him know it’s time to leave, so Kerry has a choice of seats and chooses the one on V’s lap, pushing him back down onto the seat and planting a big, wet kiss on his forehead.

The regulars are used to Kerry and V’s antics and pay little or no attention, but the look of shock on new faces when a world famous rock star walks in and starts making out with the club’s young boss man always makes V smirk.

“Mmmm,  I missed you today baby,” purrs Kerry into V’s ear, “Watcha been up to?”

“Oh you know, meetings, looking at a car, went to see Johnny.”

Kerry’s eyes darken and he sits back on V’s knee. He’s not in the mood for an argument, needs to keep V sweet for what he has planned for him later, so chooses the lesser of two evils to complain about.

“Another car? Shit V I thought you’d looked at selling some of em, not buying more.”

V looks down smiling to himself, his diversionary tactic had worked better than he imagined, “I know Ker, but a guy I was selling one to had one he thought I’d like. What can you do?” the ex-merc reasons, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hand high on his input’s thigh.

Kerry sighs, he loves the gonk and can tolerate his stupid car collection if he must. “OK fine, but from now on it’s one in – one out.” The wicked smirk tells V that this turn of phrase is not entirely innocent or coincidental.

-

A couple of days later, V is back at his old apartment, it takes him an age to make his way from the lift having to stop to chat with Coach Fred, Wilson and Barry on the way, he reckons that it’d be a shame if Johnny moved and he had no excuse to see his old friends, maybe he could sub-let he muses.

 Johnny is lying on the bed reading a screamsheet and frowning, so V throws himself down next to him resting his chin on his shoulder, looking at what he’s reading.

“Would you look at that,” Johnny says, “Us Cracks have split up, musical differences. Shame, I liked them.”

“Wouldn’t’ve thought it was your sort of music.”

Johnny looked over his ever-present sunglasses at V, “Their music’s scop, teenybop shit with lyrics written by a six year old... but I liked the girls, they were hot.”

V should’ve known, that time he and Kerry met them at Riot Johnny was besotted, talked about how they were the future, but would look better with a bit of meat on their racks, he’s a class act.

“M-hm, Red called Kerry a few weeks ago, she wants to go in a more rock direction, the other girls are still into their dumb lazrpop, so she asked him if he’d work with her, do some writing, producing, whatever the shit it is that you musos do.”

Johnny appeared thoughtful...

V guessed what his friend was thinking, “No way Johnny, she’s done nothing to deserve an asshole like you drooling over her while she works, besides, Kerry would never allow it.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, changes the subject and shows V the list he’s written.

1 – bed

2- shower

3-

V turns to stare at Johnny, he knows the rocker is daring him to say something about it but can only see his own baffled reflection staring back from Johnny’s red lenses.

“What? I started and got bored.” Johnny shrugs by way of explanation.

Together, they spend the afternoon working on the list, V sticks it to the wall and they read it back in their heads with matching expressions, both scowling and moving their lips as they read. Johnny crosses his arms, takes a step back and nods in satisfaction, “Nova, that about covers it.”

V looks over smirking, “You know what you’ve done don’tcha? You’ve perfectly described Kerry’s old villa, the one you said was a Corpo’s wet dream, the one that you wouldn’t be seen dead in even though that’s exactly what you were doing at the time, the one......”

Johnny shut’s him down with a look, “Nah, I wanted a kitchen, that shit hole had a hot water tap and a coffee machine and for some fucking reason 64 cans of beef on the counter with no way of fucking cooking em.”

Turning to look at V’s grinning face, Johnny snaps, “What??”

“There was a kitchen, it was fucking A, it was in the cellar through that locked door. Kerry locked it after he set fire to it heating up some pizza when he was drunk so’s he’d never be tempted to go down there again. I fixed it up though, state-of-the-art cooker, pizza oven, marble worktops, kinda miss it...”

Johnny huffs and throws himself on the couch; V bounces down next to him, bringing the list.

Bedroom, separate from rest of living space

Shower, big enough for 2 or 3, variable height showerhead, good water pressure, added hot tub preferable.

Kitchen, basic, functional

Optional outside space, big enough to party

Inside space, big enough to party

Bar area

Space for guitars, recording equipment etc

V appears thoughtful, “I‘ve got a bit of a... what do you call it when you’ve got a few properties and rent them out?”

“Being a corpo scopbag? Being a dick?”

“Ha ha, no, begins with ‘P’”

“Being a prick then?”

“No...portfolio, that’s it I’ve got a bit of a property portfolio. You could look at some of those.”

Johnny looks incredulously at the ex-merc, wondering what magical fuckery had to take place in the universe for this gonk to not only own a fleet of (mostly) preem cars and be living in a penthouse with a rock star, but also have a fucking ‘portfolio’, whatever the fuck that was.

V could read his mind – almost literally,

“What? I worked hard, invested well...”

“Fucked a millionaire....”

“No actually, well yeah, but this is nothing to do with Ker, it’s all me.”

V logged into his old laptop and showed Johnny the pics and specs of his properties.

The one in Northside was pretty crappy and small, and besides, V used it when he was netrunning so that was out. Judy’s old apartment might have fit the bill, but V still hoped that she’d be coming back one day, so that’s off the list.

What about this one, large open living space, super-size shower, kitchen-dining area?

Johnny looks over the ex-merc’s shoulder with interest,

“Hmm, maybe. Where is it?”

V looks him in the eye,

“Corpo Plaza.”

V laughs hysterically at the look on Johnny’s face and can’t stop even when the other man punches him hard in the arm to make him shut up. Eventually V calms down enough to speak, but still can’t stop smirking,

“So that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“Fuck off.”

-

-

V didn’t keep secrets from Kerry, he maybe didn’t always tell him everything, but he certainly never lied, so when his mainline asks what he’s got planned for the day, V has to grudgingly admit,

“Told Johnny I’d help him find a new apartment, gonna take him over to The Glen, see what he thinks.”

V braces himself...

“No,” Kerry says quietly.

“The fuck Ker?”

“No,” he repeats, “ Johnny was a tumour in my brain way before he wormed his way into yours. He takes what he wants and leaves the empty shell behind, I should know. I’m not gonna let him fuck you up any more than he already has V. You’re not fucking going, I need you here today.”

V is momentarily silenced. He knows that Kerry has issues with Johnny, but up until now he figured that they’d eventually work it out and they’d all rub along together alright. Add to this to the fact that Kerry putting his foot down was pretty damn hot and V is left torn.

“But Ker, I promised...”

“Don’t give a shit V, not gonna stand back and watch him do to you what he did to me.”

V wraps his arms around his lover’s shoulders pulling him in tightly and sighs as Kerry’s arms slip around his waist. If he had to choose one of them it would always be Kerry and much as Johnny is a part of him, this is where he belongs right now. He fires off a message making his excuses and pulls Kerry down onto the couch...

-

Johnny reads the message and curses under his breath, not because he can’t see the apartment, but more because he was pretty sure that Kerry would’ve stopped being a dick by now and at least have tried to have a conversation with him.

 Why would the guy cough up half his fortune to bring him back from the dead and then ignore him, didn’t make sense.

V had flicked him the coords and the code for the Glen apartment anyway, might as well swing by and take a look.

Begrudgingly, V had let him have his Porsche back, so Johnny hops inside and takes a moment to wistfully run his hands over the steering wheel before setting off for Heywood. It’s not a long trip, definitely not long enough for the four-figure bounty Johnny racks up with his erratic driving, but what the hell, the car’s still in V’s name after all.

As soon as he sees the outside of the building, Johnny suspects that this might not be for him, a fact confirmed by the snooty concierge and catalogue-fresh decor of the lobby, but stepping into the main living space he’s pleasantly surprised and when he spots the pool table he’s pretty much sold.

He’ll give it a couple a days to see how it vibes with him.

-

-

It turned out that Kerry was right when he said that he needed V with him today, but not in a way either of them expected.

After a lazy lunch, Kerry had appointments to keep, a meeting with the corpos at his label followed by a rare personal appearance at Riot later on. Being on his short leash for the day made V the designated driver, he didn’t mind, he felt grounded driving the streets of the city, like he and it belonged to each other.

V stayed in the car while Kerry met with his staff at the label, he’d tried going to one of these meetings once before and Kerry still tells people about how he had to poke him in the leg with a pen to stop him snoring. He plays with the radio to bide the time, smiling when ‘Black Dog’ begins to play.

V: Hey, the radio’s playing your song.

Johnny: Only another 54,999 plays and I’ll be able to afford this apartment.

V: How you liking it?

J: It’s fine, apart from the corpo dick in reception. Gonna hang here for a couple of days, see how it fits.

Kerry comes stalking towards his Aerondight, the one V saves for when he’s got something to make up for, and throws himself into the passenger seat glowering towards the MSM building. V doesn’t ask, Kerry’s meetings always end like this and he’ll tell him about it at great length later.

“Riot then?”

“Mhm”

The car into the docking area under the club, much as he loves this city there’s no way he’s leaving this beauty out on the streets, and he and Kerry make their way to the dressing room. V lights a cigarette and passes it to his input, then pours a drink that he also passes over. Kerry, sat gazing into the starkly lit mirror, grabs his arm, “Thank you babe.”

V isn’t sure if he means for the drink, the cig or some general, expansive thing, either way his answer would be the same,

“No problem Ker.”

They pass the hour or so until Kerry’s appearance laughing about the first time they’d been in this room together, intimidating the now sadly disbanded Us Cracks girls. V cheerfully admits that he was already madly in love with the rockerboy at this point, while Kerry would only go so far as to say that he found the bratty young merc intriguing and insanely hot, V was more than happy with that.

“What’s the crowd like?” asks Kerry, confident in V’s ability to hack all and every device within a 5 mile radius.

His newly upgraded Kiroshis flip him through every camera in the place, “Pretty packed out, anyone would think someone important was coming.”

The rocker narrows his eyes and twists V’s nipple hard, then pecks him on the cheek, that remark will not go unpunished later he suspects.

At the appointed hour, V guides his man around to the backstage area and sets himself up at the back of the crowd to keep an eye on things. The crowd are giddy, but good natured. They sing along with a soulful acoustic version of ‘Chippin In’, they laugh in all the right places at Kerry’s hastily written speech and queue up dutifully to ask their questions. Most of them had spent a small fortune to be here and weren’t going to waste it by making trouble, some of the others had won the right to be there and were making the most of their good fortune, but there’s always somebody who has to spoil it.

V sensed something was amiss before he saw it. Years of merc work had attuned him to noticing things that others would miss, and what he noticed right now was a space in an otherwise crowded room, and the space was moving towards the stage, towards Kerry.

The ex-merc feels for Archangel in his holster and makes his way along the wall down to the stage, keeping in line with the disturbance in the crowd. Flashing his optics he can make out some sort of cloaking software surrounding the hazy shape of a well-built man, a well-built man aiming a gun at the best thing in V’s life.

Acting on pure instinct he leaps onto the stage knocking Kerry onto the ground and covering him with his own body, the men hit the ground as three shots ring out, the room falls silent before erupting in panic and screams.

V quickly checks that Kerry is unharmed and leaps into the panicking crowd to give chase, Kerry can only watch as the crowd closes behind his mainline’s back and the venue’s security finally show up to lead him to safety.

The chase takes V through to the back of the club and into the alley beyond where he tackles the man to the ground. Now he can see him up close the crazed look of early cyberpsychosis is clear, but he’s is pretty unforgiving when it comes to someone trying to flatline his mainline and takes an unseemly amount of pleasure in frying his synapses and finishing the job with a shot to the head.

Kerry sits fidgeting in the dressing room, “Shit V, c’mon, where are you?” he whispers under his breath. A commotion outside captures his attention, his initial panic turns to relief, hearing his partner’s raised voice as he tears a strip off the club’s security guards. The rocker opens the door to watch V in action, it turns him on no end to see his man sticking up for him, but on actually setting eyes on his mainline he feels only alarm as he watches the blood dripping from the fingers of his left hand and pooling at his feet.

V turns towards him and flashes a bright smile, before collapsing onto the floor.

-

Several hours later, Kerry is sharing a bottle of bourbon with Vik while V sleeps it off on the operating table. His sub-dermal armour had absorbed the worst of it, and his pain suppressors had stopped him from passing out initially but the blood loss combined with the adrenaline spike had nearly finished him off. He’d live but he was going to be pretty sore when he came around.

It was nearly three days later when he finally woke up, Kerry had been snoozing on and off on an old office chair by the side of V’s bed so the first thing V sees on waking is world famous rock superstar Kerry Eurodyne greasy-haired, snoring and drooling onto his three day old clothes.

“Hey Ker,” he croaks through parched lips, “you OK?”

Kerry’s eyes snap open and he grabs for V’s hand, shouting for Vik at the same time.

“I’m fine, thanks to you. You had us worried for a while there, how you feelin?” he asks softly.

V ponders this for a moment, everything seems to be working, but bits of him feel like they’re on fire.

“I’ve been worse.”

Vik shows him the bullets he dug out of his arm, neck and chest before putting them in the jar with all the others.

“Good to have you back son. You don’t need me to tell you that you lucked out again, but one day that luck’s gonna run out.”

“I know Vik, but if it hadn’t’ve been me it would’ve been Kerry and ...”

V realised that he couldn’t finish the sentence, just the thought of what could have been was enough to choke him.

Vik pats his shoulder, “Take two of these twice a day you’re good to go.”

On the taxi journey home the two lovers are unusually quiet, both lost in thought. V still pondering what might have been and Kerry, for the four hundredth or so time marvelling that V literally nearly just died for him.

Reaching the villa, Kerry helps V shower and change and then cleans himself up before they both fall into the bed, not emerging until late the next day.

-

Meanwhile...

Johnny is pissed, V’s ignoring his calls and he needs to offload onto him, selfish gonk.

Since his return, they hadn’t been apart for more than a couple of days, at first they’d make up excuses to see each other, but soon they just accepted that they wanted to spend time together, so they did. Not having seen V for days was making him irritable, making his skin itch. It was probably Kerry he’d decided. The crotchety old sourpuss had put his foot down and was keeping him to himself.

Shit, he was going to have to call him.

The call went straight to voicemail – of course it fucking did – and Johnny realised he had no idea what he was going to say and hung up. Pissing Kerry off would make it worse, and since even talking to Johnny seemed to piss him off he needed to figure out what to do.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry; Kerry called him later that evening.

“V asked me to call, wants to know what’s with all the messages?”

This pretty much confirms Johnny’s suspicions about V’s radio silence, but he wants to see his friend so plays nice.

“Needed to talk to him about the apartment, been a bit of a sich.”

Kerry sighs, “Well, we’ve had a kinda sich ourselves as it goes, only just got back from Vik’s...”

“Wait, is he OK? What kind of a sich? Kerry talk to me...”

“Calm down he’ll be fine, gonna rest up some then he wants you to come over, about this time tomorrow?”

“He wants me to come over? What do you want?”

Silence stretching on so long Johnny thinks Kerry has gone, “I want...V to be happy, you make him happy for some fucking unfathomable reason. See you tomorrow.”

Johnny is both worried and elated, Kerry said V was fine, he wouldn’t lie about that, but what had happened to keep him AWOL for three fucking days? At least he would be finally able to see him tomorrow, make sure he’s OK, see if there’s anything he needs... Johnny catches himself thinking about V’s well-being above his own pressing need to offload his problem on his ass, ‘Shit, I’m turning into as much of a princess as Kerry.’

-

Johnny had enjoyed his first afternoon in the apartment, the bar was well stocked and as well as the pool table to keep him occupied there was a massive screen TV. It had never really been his thing, but V and Kerry loved to watch ‘Big Little Corporats’ and it kinda stuck, so he spent the afternoon eating snacks in front of the TV and drinking V’s top-shelf tequila. He could actually see himself being happy here.

As darkness fell, Johnny had become restless. Rattling around the huge space with no direction and no V getting on his nerves was making him antsy, Christ only knows how Kerry stayed in that stupid, enormous villa by himself all those years without going..., hmmm....Johnny decides not to pursue that train of thought and to maybe go into town for a couple of hours.

Six hours later, at about the same time Kerry and Vik are sharing a drink, Johnny leads a merry group of bar-rats through the reception area and up to the apartment. Johnny mans the bar and lays on some preem tunes while his new choombas make themselves at home. The party goes on until sun is beginning to peek through the tinted windows and Johnny kicks the boot of the last, snoring guest telling him to delta. Overall it had been a nova night, nothing that couldn’t be fixed had happened to the apartment and, other than pretty much all V’s booze, everything seemed to be still here. Johnny laid down on the bed and drifted contentedly to sleep.

An annoying buzzing woke him up, he tried to block it out with the pillow, but it was very insistent so he figured he’d better investigate. It turned out to be the door, Johnny opened it and leaned on the doorframe with his arms folded whilst the concierge told him, in no uncertain terms, that he had to vacate the property.

“Choom, unbunch your panties, it was just a party. Or are parties not allowed in your precious building?”

The irate concierge conceded that, yes parties were indeed allowed, but amongst the things that are not allowed are sleeping in the corridors, defecating in communal plant pots, causing an unprecedented 27 noise complaints and copulation in the lobby. Johnny tried to explain that only one of those things was actually his fault, but it was too late, back to the old apartment it is then.

-

-

One of the benefits of V’s old place is that Johnny could get to his friend’s condo in no time, so he shrugs on his jacket, makes his way down in the lift and walks around the corner to their building. Other than last night’s call, he hadn’t spoken to Kerry since he’d left V’s head, hadn’t tried to, not worth the earache, and he’s not really looking forward to having to do it tonight, but if this is the only way to see V then it’s worth it. He presses the buzzer to the penthouse and is answered with a terse, “Come up,” as the elevator door pings open.

Johnny sees V lying on the couch and makes a beeline for him. Although the ex-merc is well-rested and feeling pretty chipper, Johnny can see bandages poking out from under his shirt and the ghost of dark rings under his eyes. It occurs to Johnny that he may have been a bit harsh in his previous assessment of the situation.

“Shit V, what the fuck happened?”

Kerry had diplomatically taken himself to the bedroom to give them time to talk. He picked up his acoustic guitar and began to play, picking out melodies and letting themes twist together. Below, V finds the distant noise soothing as he tells Johnny the story of what happened, the reanimated Rockerboy just finds it distracting. Once, a lifetime ago, he’d be up there with him, working on new songs, telling dumb jokes and drinking tequila instead of down here wondering what he’d done (lately) to piss him off so much.

V gets to the end of his tale, time for Johnny to confess...

“Decided the apartment wasn’t for me, fucking concierge had a stick up his ass, guess my face didn’t fit.”

V studies Johnny’s face for a moment, he knows he’s not telling the whole truth – mostly because the building supervisor sent him a message telling him what really happened – but he’s satisfied to see that the other man is unable to look him in the eye and is biting his lip guiltily and so doesn’t push for a full confession.

“Well, there’s still the apartment in Japantown, I think you’d like it. Give me a couple of days and I’ll drive you over there.”

-

Over the last few days as he waited for V to come around, Kerry’d had nothing but time to think. His first thoughts had been all about not being able to believe that V risked his life to save his own – he knew the gonk loved him and it’s one thing to say you’d take a bullet for your lover, but he actually went and did it. Kerry was pretty sure no-one had ever loved him enough to die for him before and it was an overwhelming feeling to know that now somebody did, especially when he realises that he feels exactly the same.

He went on to consider V’s and Johnny’s relationship. Kerry really was trying to save V from the inevitable heartache that Johnny dragged in his wake, but he was also stopping him from seeing someone he wanted to be with. He had experienced enough manipulation in his life to know how unhealthy that was for relationships and decided that he’d have to let his naive mainline find out for himself how Johnny could be, and just be there for him to pick up the pieces afterwards.

Right now though, Kerry had no intention of letting V out of his sight, so overhearing the plans for a trip to Japantown he decides he’ll tag along.

V isn’t a bit surprised the next day when Kerry announces he’s coming with them. He’s not left his side since the shooting and he doesn’t mind one bit. Looking over at his gorgeous Rockerboy as he makes coffee and chats about last night’s episode of Watson Whore that they watched whilst snuggled on the couch eating popcorn, V’s chest actually hurts at the thought that he could have lost him, that if he hadn’t have been there he’d be reading about his murder in the screamsheets and planning his mainline’s funeral instead of drinking his coffee and hearing his laugh.

 Right now he’ll happily spend every second of the day with him, you never know when another psycho will show up and Kerry will need him.

-

-

“We’re down in the garage. Taking the Mackinaw, meet you downstairs.”

Johnny hopes that V is using the ‘Royal we’ in that sentence. He was planning on taking him to the market for some quality time and noodles, not on sitting in an awkward silence watching Kerry glare at him from over his shades. His hopes are dashed however, approaching the truck Kerry is clearly in the passenger seat, glaring at him through the off-side mirror. V leans out of the window pointing over his shoulder to the rear door,

“Hey Johnny, you get the whole back seat to yourself how about that?”

He murmurs something that could’ve been ‘thanks’, or just as easily been ‘fuck off’.

V could feel the tension in the truck, no one had said a word since Johnny got in, Kerry was looking out of the side window with his hand on V’s leg, Johnny was lying down on the back seat out of his view, but he knew he’d be tapping on his chest and grumbling to himself. Actually it reminded him of the old days, Kerry by his side and a complaining, invisible back-from-the-dead rocker in the back of the car. He turns the radio on, then immediately regrets it. He keeps it tuned to Body Heat when it’s just him so’s he can bounce along to the mindless pop it dishes out, the track that is just firing up makes the back seat passenger sit bolt upright and V sees Kerry wince out of the corner of his eye.

Off the Leash, Kerry’s collab with the Us Cracks girls had passed Johnny by till now, when V was at Riot all those years ago watching it be unveiled he’d left his head terrorist in the car, having taken one of Vik’s pills in the hope of pulling a rock star, and by the time it was a huge hit, he was dead for the second time, so it’s with raised eyebrows and a shit-eating grin that he listens to the guitar riff that he would bet the farm on being a Eurodyne special.

V narrows his eyes and looks at him through the rear-view mirror willing him not to say anything but knowing that there’s no way on earth that he won’t.

“Well, this is a fun little ditty.”

Kerry had loathed the song by halfway through the promotional tour for it, everything about it grated on him, couldn’t even remember now why he thought it had been a good idea. At the time he thought he was showing the label that he couldn’t be pushed around, now he owns his own label he realises that all he did was make them a shit-ton of cash.

“It helped pay for you to be here making fucking snide remarks in the back of my mainline’s car instead of being in his head killing him, so on balance maybe it’s not so bad, eh Johnny?”

With both passengers now silently sulking, V pulls up outside the Westbrook apartment.

-

  V flicks Johnny the entry code,

“Go on up, have a look around. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes; me and Kerry just need to have a word.”

“Whatever, sure,” the rocker replies and makes towards the building.

V looks over at his partner calmly and waits,

“What?!” Kerry shrugs.

“Play nice Ker, it was your idea to come. If he’s getting to you that much maybe you should wait here till we get back.”

Ironically, given his profession, V was more of a lover than a fighter in his private life and didn’t see the point of antagonising people for no reason – of course Johnny would have said that antagonising them was a reason in itself, but still...

It was V’s turn to receive one of Kerry’s ice-cold glares,

“I didn’t come all this way to stare at the outside of an ugly apartment building; I can do that from the condo. Fine, I’ll try and be nice, for you though, not for that fucker.”

V smiles and gives Kerry a soft kiss,

“Thanks Ker, y’know if you two got along my life would be a helluva lot simpler.”

“Yeah well, baby steps. Let’s just get this afternoon over with first.”

They enter the apartment hand in hand; Johnny is nowhere to be seen, but the tell-tale strumming of V’s acoustic guitar leads them into the bedroom. V goes and sits on the bed next to his friend, crossing his legs and lying back into the pillows, Kerry watches from the doorway for a while then disappears into the other room, Johnny watches him go with a frown.

V closes his eyes listening to the newly formed melody, a repeating phrase that would stay with you for days the first time you hear it, at the edge of his hearing the muffled chords of an unplugged electric guitar join in and compliment the tune. Smiling, he leans forward to peer into the other room, the rocker has his eyes closed and is concentrating on following the tune, the guitar resting on his knee bounces gently as he taps his foot.

V nudges Johnny who looks up and meets Kerry’s eye, for a moment they carry on playing, but Kerry shakes his head, smiling sadly and carefully places the guitar back on the stand before wandering over to make a cup of coffee. Johnny feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and V disappears into the living room leaving him to his strumming.

V slips his hands around Kerry’s waist and kisses him on the back of the neck,

“That sounded nova, you should play together more often.”

“Nah, those days have been and gone, ‘sides,” he grins, “we’d prolly end up killing each other before the end of the first song.”

-

Johnny is pretty taken with the apartment, it seems cosy without being tiny, has a basic kitchen area, big shower, a room full of big guns that V won’t give him the code to,  enough of Japantown’s finest kitsch to sink a yacht and importantly, they don’t give a shit what you get up to in the lobby. V makes him promise not to do anything stupid and says he’ll be back in a couple of days to see how he’s getting along.

-

Kerry looks like he needs cheering up, V suggests leaving the truck behind, getting some food and maybe hitting a bar, so grabbing the Rockerboy’s jacket and shades from the passenger seat they head into town.

Cherry Blossom Market is pretty quiet at this time of day, ideal conditions for a world-famous rockstar and his locally renowned ex-merc partner to have a bit of fun.  They head to the noodle bar in what used to be the Rainbow Cadenza, V sits enraptured whilst Kerry tells tales of rock, roll and drunken debauchery, sanitized slightly so’s not to send his input running screaming back to Mama Welles.

“I hadn’t thought about this place in years,” says Kerry wistfully, “the club was way before your time babe, how did you find out about it?”

V explains the mission that Johnny had sent him on that introduced him to the store and its surly owner, and also to Karim, the vendor down the way who sells old bootlegs and claims to be Samurai’s biggest fan. Kerry ponders this new information,

“Cool, I love meeting fans from the old days,” V looks at his partner with narrowed eyes, Kerry hates talking about his time in Samurai with a passion, so what’s he playing at?

“Let’s go fuck with him.”

Yeah, that makes more sense.

Kerry shrugs on his (well V’s) oversized jacket, zips it up to his neck, pulls the hood over his head and hides his distinctive eyes behind his shades. V doesn’t think the disguise would fool a blind bat in a blackout, but Kerry’s been getting away with it for decades so what does he know? He explained to him once that it doesn’t always work in bars or nice restaurants cuz that’s where people expect to see him, but no one expects him to be in dive bars and grocery stores, so it’s nova in those places, or in seedy markets it turns out.

The pair make their way toward the tatty memorabilia stall, V is pretty sure they’re not going to get away with this, but Kerry’s enjoying himself so, whatever. V flicks through the disks while the rocker stands with his hands in his pockets – hiding his rings – looking moodily at the merchandise under the glass counter.

“I know you...” Kerry tenses, V looks up from the box of records occupying his attention, “You bought a bootleg a while back, a big fan if I remember right.”

“Yeah, preem listening, but I played it to my friend here and he didn’t much like it.”

Karim looks over at V’s friend and studies him closely; closely enough that V is getting nervous that they’ve been found out and it’ll cause a riot,

“Well choom,” he addresses Kerry, “it’s a pity you’re too young to have seen them in their heyday,” V has to turn away to stifle a laugh, “they rocked like nobody else. Those songs of Silverhand’s spoke to the audience, spoke to a whole generation.”

Whatever points Karim had gained by saying Kerry was too young, he’d definitely lost again now.

“Silverhand was an out of control narcissist with the subtlety of a brick to the head,” Kerry informs the vendor with an increasingly strained light tone, “I’ve heard the real talent was the other one, the cute one,” V raises his eyebrows, unbelieving that his partner is really going there, “though I prefer his solo stuff.”

“Kerry Eurodyne? Yeah, he’s talented alright, puts on a good show, but he’s never been able to match Silverhand’s passion, or his charisma.”

V slides closer to Kerry, maybe he can quietly drag him away before he creates a scene..?

As Kerry slams his hands onto the counter the clatter of his rings could be heard all round the market, he looks at the stallholder over the top of his glasses, clicking his fingers at V and pointing at the box he was just perusing.

“A passionate, charismatic asshole is still an asshole,” he growls snatching a pen off the counter and scrawling on the front of the copy of Second Conflict that V had mutely passed over to him.

Karim watches Kerry’s back as he stalks away pursued by the younger man who grabs his hand. He wasn’t sure he believed his eyes till he looked at the front of the LP that the guy had thrown at him as he left, “Fuck off Karim, Love Kerry Eurodyne x.”

-

V catches up with his mainline, “Sorry Ker, didn’t think he’d be such a dick,” but as he looks at his face he sees that the other man is actually smiling to himself.

“It’s all good V, I’ve left a lasting impression and he’s got a story to tell. That vinyl’s worth a mint now too, prolly more than he makes in a month, so who’s he gonna be talking about from now on, Kerry Eurodyne or Johnny asshat Silverhand?”

V throws an arm around his man’s shoulders; he’ll never stop being surprised by him.

“Let’s go find a drink,” he suggests.

-

Johnny spent a couple of hours fooling around on the guitars, might even have the beginnings of something good going on, he’d gotten himself some food, played a few rounds of Roach Race and was now relaxing on the couch. He’d always liked Japantown, right from the early days of the band playing at the Rainbow it was a chilled place to hang and explore, score, drink and watch the world go by, he even had a favourite spot, sitting on the wall at the end of Jig Jig Street, so he decided to look over the old town.

The place hadn’t changed much in the last 50 years, the stalls were different sure, but the actual market was much the same, so Johnny finds himself following his old routes to see if they still lead to some preem bars.

The first couple were deader than even he’d ever been, but up ahead, at the edge of the market, there’s one that seems to have something going on. Getting closer it seems there’s a band playing, and not half bad by the sound of it so Johnny decides to investigate.

 Passing the grimy window he notices Kerry inside sat in a dimly lit corner booth smiling and tapping on the table to the beat, V appears with drinks, puts them on the table and slides into the booth where he whispers something into the other man’s ear causing them both to laugh, then V sits and lets Kerry cross his legs over his lap. Something about the scene makes Johnny vaguely sad, he doesn’t really want to analyse why, he does, however now want to get roaring drunk, so he heads into the bar.

V sees him first, giving a shrill, two-fingered whistle that attracts the attention of most of the bar, he waves Johnny over, left without much choice he makes his way to their booth.

“You shoulda said you were coming out, we could’ve met you somewhere.” V chirps happily. Johnny looks over to Kerry hiding behind his bourbon and his shades.

“Yeah well, I’m not staying long. Just looking around the old place.”

Johnny perches on a stool at the edge of their table answering V’s inquisition about what he thinks of the apartment and avoiding Kerry’s silent glare.

It seems to Johnny, that Kerry has spent a good portion of around seventy of the last ninety years being pissed with him about something or other. Being stuck in V’s head – which is one of the things Kerry was pissed about - had made him realise that some (most) of the time he might have deserved it. He’d been a complete bastard to pretty much everybody he’d met at some point, but no-one more than Kerry, the man who was supposed to be his best friend. He didn’t exactly feel guilty about it, that not being one of his limited range of emotions, but it did explain some of Kerry’s reluctance to have anything to do with him.

V goes back to the bar and Johnny decides he’s got to say something,

“Ker, talk to me. I know we’ve had our problems but you need to lighten up. If the kid wasn’t so well-balanced this’d be tearing him apart. We don’t have to be best chooms, but we can be civil, for his sake if not ours.”

“It’s for his sake that I haven’t shot you in the fucking head, and that I didn’t unplug you when you were in that research facility,” hisses Kerry.

“So why’d you help to bring me back if you want me dead? You had what you wanted, then paid big eddies to get something that pissed you off. Even for you that’s gonk.”

Kerry sits back in his seat and closes his eyes, why isn’t he surprised that the first proper conversation they’ve had is already turning into an argument? It’s not like he hasn’t wondered himself a hundred times why he brought Johnny back, he told himself that it was for V, cuz he wanted it so badly, he’d been so sick and it was something that Kerry could do for him to make him feel better, but that wasn’t the whole truth.

He takes off his sunglasses and looks at Johnny with the bright blue eyes that the other man will never get used to.

“I tried to fucking save you the first time, back in the day, I tried so damn hard but you just wouldn’t let me. One way or another you were going to kill yourself and I could either watch or walk away...” Johnny just nods, it’s all true, “but I got the chance to save you again, I mean fuck, who gets that? Whether you wanted me to or not, you couldn’t stop me, so I did it. I don’t need you in my life anymore, I don’t see us ever being friends again, but I guess I don’t want you dead either.”

V tried really hard not to eavesdrop from the bar, but when he saw the two Rockerboys finally talking it was almost by accident that he tuned everything else out and picked up their conversation. He knew how Kerry felt, they’d talked about it often enough, he was disappointed that he was determined to keep his distance from Johnny, but pleased that they’d finally cleared the air, maybe it could be a stepping stone to something else down the line.

Johnny stayed just long enough to finish the drink he’d been brought, then disappeared into the now chaotic market leaving the lovers to their annoying moon-eyes and hand-holding.

-

It takes two days before Johnny is back in Watson, and another call from a building supervisor to alert V to the fact.

V: What did you do this time??!!!

Johnny: About what?

V:  You know what

J: ......

J: It caught fire a bit

V: How the fuck does an apartment catch fire A BIT?????

V: Kerry’s on some calls upstairs, come over and explain yourself Silverhand

J: Ugh fine, gimme five

It wasn’t his fault, who fills an apartment with fucking incense and candles and then gives it to someone as irresponsible as him? In fact V should count himself lucky it was only the bedroom that was a right off, the smoke damage to the rest of the apartment would probably clean up just fine.

“I rescued the guitars,” offers Johnny after relating his tale to V,

“Well thank fuck for that, you nearly burnt an apartment block to the ground but you rescued a couple of crappy guitars.”

“Well, look at Mr Portfolio with his giant condo and shitty attitude...”

Even though they are sat by the pool outside, Kerry can hear the commotion from his upstairs office and comes to investigate. He watches them from the door for a moment, virtually spitting venom into each other’s faces, but still sat shoulder to shoulder with their fingertips touching. An almost sickening wave of déjà vu hits him, fifty some years ago this was him and Johnny, constantly at each other’s throats but each drawn to the other, the difference is, V has Kerry in his corner.

“What’s the sonofabitch done now?”

V spins around to face Kerry, nearly pushing Johnny into the pool as he stands up and strides towards his mainline.

“He set fire to my fucking apartment Ker,” V rumbles, “and he’s not even fucking sorry!”

V is as mad as Kerry has ever seen him, the older man soothes him with gentle rubs to his arms and back and with strokes to his hair as he nestles his head in the rocker’s neck. Kerry tells him to go inside and waits until he disappears before joining Johnny by the side of the pool and sitting beside him.

“You’ll lose him y’know if you carry on taking advantage and acting like a dick.”

Johnny carries on scowling at the water, “It’ll get so that even though he can’t bear to be away from you, he won’t be able to stand being in the same room, so he’ll just stop trying. Years down the line he’ll be messed up and wondering what he could have done to change things.”

Taking his glasses off, Johnny looks over at Kerry with something approaching concern,

“I don’t want that, I like having him around.”

“I know you do, and he wants to be around you too for now, but as you pointed out, he’s a well-balanced guy, not some twenty year old stoner with a crush. He won’t put up with your shit for long no matter how much he loves you.” Johnny raises an eyebrow at the L word, “Platonically of course,” laughs Kerry after seeing the look on Johnny’s face, “I mean, he’s got me filling his every thought and need, and making his world that much more dazzling, and besides, I’ll shoot you in the face if you touch him.”

Johnny smiles wryly, “Thanks Ker, I get it, I’ll try.”

“I know you will, now fuck off for a couple of days and let him calm down, I’m sure he’ll call ya.”

-

Kerry finds V lying on the bed, legs crossed arms behind his head, frowning at the ceiling, he sits beside him and scoots over allowing the other man to rest his head in his lap.

“You were right Ker, he’s such a dick!”

Stroking his hair and humming softly, Kerry sighs,

“Yeah well, give him a while. Maybe he’ll change...”

[satellitesoundwave]

Hi! Book-binding annon here! Hope you are out there living your best life and that you are getting better!

I just wanted to tell you that dont worry! If I end up making DwtD a physical book I will totally send you pictures! I have an Idea for the cover, I am hoping to sketch soon!

About the “look away” comments… I just don’t want you to think I am weird <- Is on tumblr how normal can he be.

But anyways, Annon allows me to send you love and recognition for your beautiful brain, without me feeling like I am bothering you. But I should prolly take off the annon mask if I want you to see the art. I am 99% sure you wont think I am annoying, we artist trive in seeing people go crazy about our stuff.

But is that I trully love this fanfic sooo much. The way you write Jazz in particular makes me so happy!

I know this is going to be a hot take but I don’t think most of the fandom gets Jazz. I blame TFA. Animated is a great show, and I love TFA Jazz but it sucks that this is the version most of the fandom takes to write their Jazz. Because TFA took his role as a deescalator and made it his main trait. In concequence to that (and classic downplaying of Black coded characters) I find that most people just have him as a reactive character, instead of a highly active one.

because that is the whole point, isn’t it? Jazz being the most deceptive Autobot.

He *pretends* to be laid back and non threatening, when in reality he is lowering peoples guards so that he can strike. To be like that recurries knowledge of character, profiling and so much control. But he is not calculative and meticulous, because he knows numbers don’t count in the field, actions do. He controls his actions, he gets the job done.

And I honestly sometimes just reread that fic to remind myself there’s people out there that get it. That Jazz is a character that makes his own decisions. Morally grey. Highly capable and competent.

Dear Rung in the Core, in chapter 3? When he makes the mistake and he is like “Stop, learn from the mistake. Get back up” Thats is so…. Bdjdjdkdj I want to yell and scream because OMGGGG In real time that was like, what? 3 seconds? It was enough, he was working behind enemy lines *with* an Enemy, and he just got back on track because that’s what he does!!

Also, just the fact that you didn’t butcher AAVE. I much rather people don’t use it than to just act like using “ah” instead of “I” is not disrespectful. Really, thanks for this, it is exhausting.

The entire lore with the Ravir is SO IMPORTANT TO ME!! The fact that you gave Jazz a Ravir Friend!??? Also, I love anthropology and sociology (I am studying sociology) And just… delicious I am putting them in my mouth for safe keeping.

I actually have to get back to take screenshots of the Ravir but they have been really fun to sketch in free time. I was not using reference for those, so If I want to draw the cover anytime soon I will need to check that and make sure I am following descriptions.

I love how enigmatic Soundwave is through the entire thing until we get to the “OH SHIT” Moment of “He is into you”

I haven’t reread it in like… a week, I need to do it again 😔 <- Is hyperfixiating, sorry.

Anyways, also, just I love chapter 3, k? I love reading it and mentally going “JAZZ NO!! JAZZ!! MIJO ESTAS CAYENDO EN LA TRAMPA!! JAZZ NOOOOOOO” My man got caught simping 😭

I can not express enough HOW MUCH I love every single fucking mention of Jazz’s knife through the fic. It all just… ties down so beautiful in the end, Dear Rung I just dbjddbdkdbdjdbdjdb [Grabs the entire fic and consumes it]

Anyways, is just… So good, and this is just another continuity for me.

If you are okey with it I can DM you the drawings. Have a great day, I trully do hope you are doing okey. You have given me something that gave me so much Joy and I just want to let you know through this silly annon messages.

I shall Go 😎

bye

YO you’re drawing a cover?? That’s so cool

No need to worry about me finding you annoying! Like you said, I am way too busy thriving at seeing you enjoy DwtD for that. (totally get the concern tho, god knows I find interacting with people whose work I admire intimidating)

I can’t offer a lot of insight into how TFA influences how people characterise Jazz since I’ve only seen most of season 1 - though tbh while I do take inspiration IDW, really my angle on Jazz comes down more to an accident of taste, I think. Proactiveness and specific direction/goals are things I really like in protagonists, to the point that fics and books that are excellently written can sour a bit for me when they don’t have those, so I do tend to zero in on and emphasise those things. But that’s just my preference. I can’t really begrudge people focusing more on his easygoing side and Jazz being everyone's friend when that's what appeals to them, since those are as much a part of him as the stuff I gravitate towards

Though it could also… hm. Some of the more common shipping options for Jazz are ones where they’re already friends or have established amicability, and I kind of wonder if you’re gesturing at something I’ve run into a fair bit in friends to lovers fics. It’s that thing where a fic seems to be very interested in the interiority of Character A, and you keep waiting for Character B to get the same level of attention, except then it just never happens. It can feel a bit like the writer is more interested in how Character B can act as a vehicle for making Character A feel loved/comforted/etc, than in Character B as an actual character in their own right

Obviously not all (or even most) friends to lovers fic does this. And it’s not, like, an unforgivable crime or anything either, actually! Imo this can be a perfectly valid decision for a story - for instance, while it's not at all in friends to lovers territory, I did something similar in Your Own Hands. There's a lot of stuff in my plot outline about what Prowl’s thinking in each scene, details of the multiple factors being weighed in his decision making. But the reader ends up seeing basically none of it, because for all Tarantulas believes he understands Prowl as no one else does there are ways in which he understands him very poorly, and the narrative is so tightly bound up in Tarantulas' pov that his shortcomings prevent the reader from ever getting a clear read on Prowl. So I am definitely not saying this is automatically a bad thing. But at the same time, I also get how frustrating this can be when the sidelined half of the ship is the reason you clicked on the fic in the first place. Especially when you run into several fics doing this to the character you’re turning up for in a row, that has happened to me and I have felt petty resentment about it

Sorry for the little ramble haha, you just got me thinking about what made me drift away from the friends to lovers approach to ships a bit (this is something I’ve not really run into in enemies to lovers fic, I guess bc the narrative needs to have at least some investment in the interiority of both characters so them being in conflict has a foundation and makes sense. Tho maybe it does happen here too and I've just not seen it)

Please do dm me the drawings!! Thank you for this message :) It's very special that this little fanfic I made brought you so much happiness. My work’s been very understaffed recently and covering the gaps has been super tiring, so I've been reading and rereading this as I slowly pulled together the energy to reply bc it’s so nice and made me feel better ( ´∀`) I wanted to go into more depth in my reply (ahsjdjd I laughed so hard about how Jazz 'got caught simping' he did lmao, and I’m delighted you like the bits with Jazz’s knife bc I did go feral when I realised I could have that as a recurring bit :3c and oooooooh my god I am so stoked that you’re drawing the Ravir) but I’ve been so fatigued these past few weeks that if I don’t reply now then I’ve got no idea when I’d get the ball rolling again orz Besides that I am doing okay though. Things in my life now are better than they've ever been before, which I personally am pretty happy about :D

Thank you again for the kind words <3

[greg-montgomery]

I will prolly never reveal who i am (lies) but like i want you to know youre an amazing writer and youre the first person ive sent this much to- and i love you sm for being you and you should be proud of yourself and i love your blog with my whole heart (no you have no idea how much) bc while my mental health may be crashing as hard as my grades (im okay dw) you (and your blog) are just amazing and a sort of rock and im sorry if this got heavy but yea- also im proud of you just existing and waking up today and I want you to know that if you ever feel lonely or unloveable that this little internet weirdo on your phone is proud of you and loves you very much (/p) even if all you do is wake up in the morning so yeah if you ever feel a lil down im here <3

-🧽

bestie…

this made me cry and i’m not lying 🥹

no matter what i reply to this, it won’t be enough to show how much this means to me. the kindness you’re showing me rn? your sweet words? i love you so much! you are an angel the universe sent to me today because i needed it!!

it means THE WORLD to me that something i post here could bring comfort to someone bc i know the feeling of needing this type of comfort :( and this blog brings so much comfort to me. so the fact that someone else can also feel this way bc if it is so 🥹🥹

i genuinely don’t know how to express myself rn 😭 just know that i’m sooooo grateful for you and this message <3 it made me cry (in a good way) after a very difficult day. i’ve been going through it and the reason i haven’t posted much this week (and reply to your asks - i’ve seen them i love them keep going you’re never bothering me) is bc i’ve been working all day. so this was a gift sent from heaven :(

thank you and take care of yourself, i love you so much!! we’ll be okay <333

[kendrixtermina]

Haha for real. 

One of the first thing I did after reading the Lukovich book is compose a thank you message to dear old mom for keeping our family somewhat cohesive, making it something ppl want to be part of & keeping in touch with me after I moved out etc. basically doing a lot of so related stuff that I never really appreciated or valued. That was late last year but I don’t think the full significance sank in until way after. 

Cause had it been up to me I defo would not have kept in touch nor expected them to. I always expected to leave and never see them again. When they left the federal state I’d been living in while I was finishing my degree, I think my ex  minded their absence more than me. 

As an adolescent, I had tried to get into a boarding school,  attempted running away and even begging a social worker to remove me from the family. I wanted to be free of the bullying and my father’s abuse, but I would have been cool with never seeing my mother or siblings again. 

In fact I long regretted what I saw as the mistake that did not get me removed. In some ways I still do though there is no way to know what would have happened, being in foster care would probably have sucked in a whole different way. 

My bro was the only one I would have said I was remotely close to pre-moveout, but probably in the last 10 years most the interactions we had is because the social-havers invited us both to the same event, if it weren’t for them we prolly would have scattered to the winds. 

I was touched that they wanted to keep in touch with me & that my mother helped me out so many times over the years and was more patient with my lack of professional progress than anyone could have asked her to, so that’s how we actually ended up growing alot closer as adults than we really were before. (it helps that I’ve cut off all contact with my father so he is no longer there to triangulate everything.)

I certainly never thought that I’d ever be deliberately moving to the same town as my mother & siblings. I mean in a sense I’m still doing it ‘cause I have no reason not to & it doesnt really matter to me what city im in so long as it is big, but I guess that’s more than zero. 

I’ve been here several weeks and I’m still being spontaneously glomped by my mother “Im sooo happy youre here now and im seeing you more than 2 times a year, im sooo happy to have all my babies living nearby” & siblings are all exited & wanna do stuff with me that’s just so weird. I haven’t even done anything useful to merit this, these ppl should be beyond tired of me and my bullshit.

but, if all the evidence says they arent it would be silly and irrational to contest that. guess ill just count myself grateful. 

the coup de grace was hearing that apparently the youngest rejoiced when she heard i was coming because I apparently “always talk about interesting things” - that’s such a contrast to, like... i didnt read half as much stuff lately as I would have liked to. i didnt do anything. i never have anything to say or tell about. i want to hide away so nobody asks me. I’m so void of any novel useful content that you can hear the wind blowing through me. Or so I would have thought. 

I’m probably sounding as silly as those ppl going “can I still be a 7 if I have only one social outing per day” or “Can I still be a 9 if I made a displeased face at my mother once” (actual questions ive gotten on reddit)

its one think to acknowledge that it will never “feel enough” and that thats not a good guage, but then what is one? Thats not so obvious, which makes it all feel like thin ice. 

But maybe I’ve come somewhat closer to making the step from “ignoring social completely” to “it has to get in line behind the other 2 things but is at least somewhat on the radar. ”

I hate to be agreeing with that darn Lukovich especially since sneered at that cliched woo-woo sounding line of when I first read the book, but you really don’t have a grasp what the blindspot really is at the beginning. 

IDK on some level I still don’t want to care about that too much & much of it still seems silly and I worry that I’ll lose whatever clarity I have to see through arbitrary bullshit. though you at least wanna be aware that it exists, because not seeing stuff that exists is not clarity either. 

eh i dunno. still gotta think about that. dont have it quite sorted yet. but if mom wants me to go have ice cream with her once in a while cause talking cheers her up thats a discount price for all the free help shes given me for no reason, i guess. i still fell that if i ever came to any money, i would have to pay her back somehow, at least for everything that was done after i turned 18. but she probably wouldnt want money, per se. 

maybe us all living nearby really is as great of a dream as she makes it out to be, but really accepting that reality is precarious, cause, am I then taking that away if I wanted to fuck off and move away for some reason. it seems very important to have that freedom. but insisting on that would carry a price tag, i guess. 

uh. this got a bit beyond the scope of just the instinct thing but i think it is illustrative nonetheless. 

Hey, it's me again lol

How you doing? I was on the bus having q complete crisis over something. And I thought something like "I can't even take care of myself"

You have say multiple times that you don't even think about your IV that's blind.

But you don't came to start to thinking about it when you discover your IV stacking?

I'm most likely an sp blind, since I discovered it I have feel bad about it. Because I came to the reality that I don't take care of me whatsoever, so I'm thinking bout it sometimes. But in that way.

Is that possible?

To oneself become more self aware of what's lacking on the iv. Not like becoming good at it. Just starting to notice it.

I don't know if that even makes sense sorry lol

It's more that confronted with someone who prioritizes your blind spot, you cannot relate to them at all or go "eww, who would care about that enough to make that the most important thing in their life?" Blindness is not "I can't do it at all," it's "these other things take up so much of my focus, I neglect this third one most of the time."

[crossroadsandloudmusic]

Hey y’all!! Finished this request up for anon. Anon, if you are still out there I hope you enjoy the fic! I loved your idea and ran with it, I hope it is to your liking!!!!

Anyways, I’ll be writing some more later this week and if I’m being honest it is prolly just going to be Yandere/smut. I have a prompt list as long as my arm and I’ll be getting started on that here soon.

Let me know if y’all have suggestions as to what I should write!

As always request are always open!!

Tips/criticism welcome!!!!

Please enjoy!!

warnings: fluff, swords, blood, graphic descriptions of gore, death, (etc.)

The sunlight illuminated the light gray room; it was well into morning now. And although it made him sick to be in bed this late, Tanjiro was ordered to be on bed rest for the next couple of days. Laying on his back he stared at the ceiling wondering how the rest of the team were recovering. Inosuke laid to his right, still loudly snoring. He had only suffered minor fractures such as a few broken ribs. Zenitsu’s injuries on the other hand, remained to be unknown as he was asleep on arrival and still was sleeping now. But then a more troubling thought came to mind. What happened to (y/n)? The last thing he remembered was seeing you charge across the battlefield, the handle of your katana in one hand and the actual blade itself in the other. It had been broken by the demon you were all fighting; you had pinned the demon to the ground and held the blade horizontally. You intend to mash the blade into his neck with brute strength, in the process you cut the demon’s hands and fingers into ribbons. Most importantly you snapped your blade.

Slowly the memories came back to Tanjiro, as he remembered that immediately following this the demon fled trying to get away from you as fast as he could. He could see your reckless bloodlust and knew if he stuck around any longer he wouldn’t live to see another day. Tanjiro’s last memory was that of you covered in your own blood wielding the fractured sword, running after the demon. He remembered your deadly laughter as you pursued the demon.

Breaking the calm nature of the estate, a loud commotion could be heard down the hall. It sounded as if someone were yelling and knocking things out of their way.

“I DONT NEED ANYMORE MEDICINE! AND I DONT NEED ANYMORE PHYSICAL THERAPY! I HAVE THINGS I NEED TO DO AND I CANT GET THEM DONE HERE IF IM LAYING IN BED!” Yelled a voice from down the hall.

Immediately Tanjiro sat up, recognizing the voice as your own.

“You can’t take the boys with you, they haven’t fully recovered yet!” Wailed Sumi.

“They are too weak to leave! They’ll get hurt!” Cried Naho

“Let them stay here just until they gain back all of their strength!” Pleaded Kiyo.

All three pulled at your clothes and limbs, still you moved forward. Pulling the girls behind you.

Tanjiro could hear the young girl’s begs as they got closer and closer to his door. When suddenly he heard the footsteps stop, and all was quiet for a fraction of a second.

Suddenly the door slammed open, all three of the boys jumped in unison from the noise. Zenitsu and Inosuke now wide awake and on alert searching for the sound that pulled them out of such a sweet slumber. In the doorway you stood, hands on your hips. Your uniform in tatters, your face and hands covered in bandages. Tanjiro noticed that there still appeared to be a bit of dried blood in your (h/c) hair.

“Rise and shine boys! Time to get moving!” You announced as you looked at the young men’s confused faces.

“You’re alive?!” Asked Zenitsu still shocked by you standing in their room, seemingly in a great mood, all things considered.

“Of course I’m alive! I’m the (y/b/t) pillar! A hashira! Who do you think carried you all this way, hm?” You asked Zenitsu who now was even more baffled, you were at the brink of death and you carried the three of them to safety?

“Did you kill the demon?” Asked Inosuke sitting at the end of his bed.

“You bet I did, a broken sword can’t stop me!” You said as you smiled and winked at him.

————————————————————————-

After successfully kidnapping the injured boys, you five made your way back to your own estate. There the five of you had been staying as you were taking them under your wing and training them.

Your training was a bit unconventional, as instead of training them as if you were a wise master you trained from the heart. You fought from the heart, you let your undying hatred and insatiable bloodlust take control of your body. This resulted in you being known as reckless and erratic, many did not admire these qualities because they felt you lacked discipline and control. Which wasn’t far from the truth, but this was who you are and you weren’t going to change that because someone didn’t like the way you handled business.

Also with your rash fighting style came the problem of wielding your sword correctly. Instead of seeing it as a beautiful extension of your body, you saw it as a tool. A sharp tool that cuts and kills, and sometimes tools break. And when a tool breaks you get another one. That’s just how you saw it and the blacksmith never seemed to care much, besides you were giving him plenty of business were you not?

“So what happened after you broke your sword?” Questioned Tanjiro as you four sat inside your home.

“Well, I picked up the pieces, chased after that demon till I caught him and then I cut his head off as he begged for mercy.” You said in a matter-of-fact tone; taking a sip of your tea as if you were discussing the weather. Zenitsu shuddered at your coldness, you terrified him. Inosuke laughed and cheered at your response.

Tanjiro sat and thought quietly, it was intense how cold blooded you were. Still though you weren’t like this with everyone and every demon. He noticed how caring you could be to them and even though you were reluctant about Nezuko, you never said an ill word to or about her. Even when you first met you had always been welcoming, regardless if you were a little nervous about her.

Then a sickening thought came to his mind. Your sword. You had broken your sword. That means Hotaru Haganezuka would be bringing you another. He trembled at the thought.

“You…you...you broke your sword right? What are you going to do?” Tanjiro asked, clearly distressed.

You cocked your eyebrow as if to ask why he was acting so nervous.

“What do you mean? I’ll just get Hotaru to make me another one, duh.” You said blatantly.

“Wha...wha… What do you mean just get him to make you another? Have you ever met Hotaru?!” He almost yelled.

“Well of course I have! Why are you making such a big deal, the guy is a blacksmith, he makes swords. I broke mine so I’ll just get him to make me a new one. He’s done it before.” You said, still confused at Tanjiro’s sudden change in behavior.

“Besides, he’s coming over this afternoon to get the pieces of my old one so he can make the new one.” You said taking another sip of your tea.

“He’s coming here!? This afternoon?! Before?! How many swords have you broken?!” He questioned loudly.

“Eh, I don’t know. Five, maybe six, more or less.” You replied nonchalantly. Tanjiro almost collapsed, he had broken one and lost another. Hotaru intended to beat him to a pulp the first time, and the second time Tanjiro was sure he was going to kill him. But you. You had broken five of his swords. Five of his masterpieces. Hotaru would surely stop at nothing to exact his revenge. Five swords was no longer punishable by death, but instead cruel and unusual torture. Tanjiro would be terrified but he would protect you at all costs.

————————————————————————-

As the three you sat, and enjoyed what was a relaxing evening a knock came at the door. Tanjiro stiffened and stood up with you. You gave him another confused glance and approached the door. He waited with baited breath, he expected at any moment Hotaru would burst through that door with two large knives in hand.

When you reached the door, Tanjiro assumed a fighting stance. He would be ready for anything.

You opened the door and smiled.

“Haganezuka! It’s good to see you again! Please come in!”

————————————————————————-

This was terrifying, absolutely terrifying.

Hotaru stood quietly and awaited your return patiently. You went to retrieve the shards of your previous sword and asked to wait just a second while you got them, to which he immediately obliged and had since stood almost perfectly still.

Perhaps he was so angry he was calm? Maybe he was waiting till you came back before he attacked? Regardless of what trick he had up his sleeve Tanjiro stood ready for anything.

Yet nothing came, instead you came back and handed him the pieces in a small burlap sack.

“Here it is! Everything is in there, even the handle. I look forward to getting my new one!” You said with a smile as you handed him the sack.

Hotaru took the sack from your hands and held it closely, he bowed deeply and said

“Thank you, (L/n)san. I will begin my work right away. Your swords take priority.”

Thank you? Right away? Priority?

Tanjiro was dumbfounded, this was not the Hotaru he had met before. The Hotaru he met would have chased you for hours on end and if he caught you. You would have been unrecognizable. But this Hotaru waited patiently and was polite. What was even more disturbing was that this Hotaru almost seemed to adore you?

The way he waited, the way he gratefully accepted your broken sword, the way he spoke to you, the way he watched your every move. All of it was so peculiar, did Hotaru favor you in a way?

You walked Hotaru outside and on the engawa you shared some parting words.

“Have a safe trip back! It’s been so good seeing you again, Hotaru.” You said as you pulled Hotaru into a warm embrace.

This is what he had been craving. Your touch, your voice, your scent. He held you close to him until you pulled away, immediately he missed your touch. He knows it was only a friendly gesture but he couldn’t help but want it more, he wanted you close to him always. Forever and ever beside him. But until he had the guts to truly confess his love for you, he’d have to settle with making you a new sword every time you needed one. He’d make a thousand swords for you, if he could experience these small but sweet interactions.

“I will be back in several days. I will forge only the best for you, a sword that will be worthy for you to hold.” Hotaru spoke quietly as he bowed once more.

“You always do.” You said with a smile that never failed to melt his heart. He was grateful for his mask or else you’d surely see the blushing mess he was.

Hotaru took his leave and disappeared down the trail.

As you stepped back inside you whispered to yourself

“Such a sweet guy, why hasn’t someone snatched him up and made him a husband yet?”

————————————————————————-

“I don’t know what you were so worried about Tanjiro, Hotaru is always so polite.” You said as you walked through the door. Tanjiro now sat with his legs crossed, the most perplexed look on his face.

————————————————————————-

As soon as Hotaru made it back to his home, he threw himself into his work. He would work for hours on end, never once taking a break. This was for you, this would be for you. He’d pour his heart and soul into this sword, the sword you would carry into battle.

————————————————————————-

“AND HE HASN’T EVER CHASED YOU FOR HOURS?!” Tanjiro raged.

“Hm...No, not that I recall.” You absentmindedly answered while flipping through your book.

“HE NEVER THREATENED TO MURDER YOU?!”

“No, not once.”

Tanjiro’s reactions to your replies made you laugh internally. You knew that Hotaru had a reputation of overreacting to his swords being destroyed by the younger slayers. Still Tanjiro didn’t have to know that you knew.

“Tanjiro, I just don’t believe that Hotaru would do something like that. You saw how polite he was this afternoon.” You said still not looking from your book.

“I KNOW THATS MY POINT! HAD IT BEEN ME WHO BROKE MY SWORD HE WOULD HAVE CHASED ME UNTIL SUNSET!” Yelled Tanjiro.

“See that’s the thing I don’t understand. You were here this afternoon when he came by, and he didn’t chase or harass you then.” You said still wanting your little game to continue.

“He didn’t notice anyone else was here.” Said Zenitsu as he chewed on some ohagi.

After understanding what Zenitsu meant by his comment a slight blush ran across your face. The thought that Hotaru had only been focused on you made your heart jump. He has always been so kind to you, and he never once complained about consistently having to make you new swords. Maybe, Hotaru did have feelings for you. That was ridiculous, surely you would have noticed before now, right? Then again why had he always treated you so kindly?

The idea that Hotaru had taken a liking to you wasn’t a bad thought. In fact, you could feel your heart flutter at the thought of you two being a bit more friendly with one another. And he was quite attractive, at least from the bit that you saw of him. He was muscular and rather tall as well, underneath the spotted cloth on his head you could see strands of long black hair. Every time he came to deliver your new sword you hoped you would get a glance of his face.

Lost deep in thought you hadn’t realized how quiet the room had gotten. When you looked up from your book you saw Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke all staring with cheeky grins; giggling like schoolgirls. It was obvious they had seen you blush at the thought that Hotaru was interested in you.

“WHAT ARE ALL YOU LOOKING AT?!” You yelled as you jumped up out of your chair.

“I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT HOTARU IS JUST NICE!” You said before running out of the house. The boys erupted in laughter.

————————————————————————-

“Did you see the way she was blushing?” Asked Tanjiro as he cleaned the floors; running back and forth in front of Zenitsu who was seated on a cushion.

“I guess she didn’t realize Hotaru had the hots for her.” Zenitsu said.

Suddenly Tanjiro stopped and smiled the biggest smile he could.

“Zenitsu! I have a wonderful idea! We should get them together!” He beamed feeling brilliant after coming up with such an idea.

“WHAT?! AND RISK FEELING THE WRATH OF (Y/N) AND HOTARU?! ARE YOU INSANE?!” Yelled Zenitsu angry Tanjiro would be putting him in such a dangerous situation. His vision of you in his mind was of you standing in a lawless battlefield surrounded by flames, sword in hand ready to cut down anyone who crossed you. He shivered at the thought.

“Just think about it Zenitsu! Imagine how happy they’d be together! Besides, Hotaru is always working on his swords and (y/n) is always on missions. Maybe they need something a little more...normal?” Said Tanjiro with a bit of sympathy in his voice. It was true, you were always on missions, in fact this was the first time you had been home in months; your house was covered in a thick layer of dust. There was no doubt that you loved exterminating demons, but the reason you were obsessed with killing them was a little more deeper than that. The day you became a slayer your promised yourself that you would stop at nothing to avenge the ones you loved, your family, your friends, the entire village. All of which had been destroyed; you stood in wreckage gathering all the bodies you could find. One by one you would bury your entire town. After everyone received a final resting place and a proper funeral you would then search for a way. A way to bring them comfort in the afterlife.

“Will you help me?”

“Fine, I’ll help you. BUT IF (Y/N) OR HOTARU GET ANGRY I'M TELLING THEM IT WAS YOUR IDEA!”

————————————————————————-

Together the three devised a plan that would be the envy of most any man. They would send a fake mission through your crow, saying that there was a demon on the prowl in the wisteria grove. After hearing this you would send a message to Hotaru asking him to put a rush on that sword and meet you there. Before this they will have adorned the trees with lanterns, strings of flowers, and beautiful vines. And when the two of you met in the middle, they’d ignite the lanterns to illuminate the scene. A place so romantic you both would have no choice but to confess your love for each other!

Quickly they got to work. Tanjiro ordered Inosuke to climb each tree and place a lantern on the lowest branches, after he was done each tree had two lanterns. Zenitsu was to collect as many willow vines as he could, then he would braid them making long thick vines that would hang from the trees and create almost a curtain. Tanjiro was on the hunt for the most beautiful smelling flowers, of course he grabbed some wisteria but he also collected tons of wild flowers he had seen in the area. He made bunches of glorious bouquets to hang in the trees, in the middle of the vine guarded circle he sprinkled hundreds of flower petals. The sight was delightful, the boys had put in so much work into this. Now their only hope was that neither of you two killed them after finding out their plan.

After putting the finishing touches on their creation they rushed back to your estate to enact the second part of their plan.

“Please, we need you to do this for us. What do you want? We will give you anything! How about birdseed? How about worms, we will get on our hands and knees and dig for all the grubs you want! Please just do us this little tiny favor.” Tanjiro pleaded with your crow who was pondering their request.

After much begging and negotiating, it was settled that Inosuke would dig for grubs and get as many as he could find, Zenitsu would give him an extra scope of birdseed while you weren’t looking.

Now all they had to do was wait. You had to go to a hashira meeting and would be back before too much longer, still the wait made them anxious. Tanjiro sat drumming his fingers waiting for you to arrive, Inosuke laid out flat on the floor snoozing, while Zenitsu trembled and paced the floor.

“Tanjiro, what if they find out.” He whimpered, tears flowing from his eyes.

“They will find out! We will tell them as soon as they confess to each other!” Tanjiro said happily even though he was slightly nervous.

“Tanjiro! You didn’t tell me that!” He cried.

On the other side of the door they could hear your light footsteps, quietly you slid the door open and stepped inside.

“How was the meeting?” Tanjiro chirped with an overall enthusiastic smile on his face.

“Depressing. It is hard hearing about all the young slayers that have been killed.” You said not meeting his eyes, opting to go sit down on your futon.

“I don’t want to do anything this evening except lay here, you boys cool with that?” You asked, pulling the cover over your head.

None of the boys replied. Zenitsu ran and gripped Tanjiro’s haori.  Both looked at each other with worried expressions.

Perhaps, this was not the best time for such a ruse.

Before you could get properly settled in, the jarring sound of your crows' cries came from outside. Instantly you jumped from your bed and ran to your closet. First you grabbed your slayer uniform, then your belt. You ran down the hall and into your separate room to change. In a flash you were dressed, for one last final touch you slipped on your tabi boots; fastening them as you fled to the door. You crashed through the door and out into the yard, you searched the sky till you spotted your crow.

“Hey! What’s the big idea? I don’t have a sword yet!” You yelled to your crow who was making small circles in the sky.

“Southeast! Southeast! Head southeast!” The crow called as he refused to elaborate.

“Go to Hotaru Haganezuka! Tell him to put a rush on that sword and meet me there. Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke!”

All three boys ran out onto the engawa, dressed with swords at their hips.

“Follow me, we have a mission. Let’s go!”

————————————————————————-

Together you ran, the boys a couple lengths behind you. Tanjiro’s crow led the way and soon you’d all arrive to your destiny.

————————————————————————-

Your crow flew hard and fast, when you gave him orders he always intended to follow through to the best of his ability, even if he was bribed into misleading you.

After a long flight he arrived at Hotaru's home, outside he cawed hoping to alert the man inside.

Hotaru had been hard at work forging your new sword; he intended on making it absolutely perfect. Therefore it was nowhere near finished, even after the countless hours and days he pushed himself to work.

The sound of a Kasugai crow calling his name broke him out of trance. Already enraged that no doubt the crow was coming to report a slayer had broken one his swords, he stormed outside slamming his door behind him. But before he could voice his exasperation the crow spoke,

“The (y/b/t) pillar! (Y/n)! She needs her sword! She’s on her way to a mission! Meet her at the wisteria grove Southeast!” Your crow called.

Hotaru’s heart sank, you were going into battle now? And you had nothing but your bare hands to defend yourself with, he’d have to improvise. With all his speed he ran inside; he tore his forge apart. He couldn’t possibly expect you to wield a half made sword, it was still glowing hot and lacked a handle. He fumbled through everything till he found them; a pair of wakizashi swords he made as a prototype for a previous hashira. They were not your usual weapon of choice, but they had been forged by the same metal as his katanas; he knew you’d have no trouble wielding them.

Throwing them into a wooden case, he wrapped them in a soft cloth. Hurriedly he slammed the case closed and threw it over his shoulder as he bolted out the door.

—���——————————————————————-

He followed your crow with great determination, he wasn’t going to fail you. Even so the most dreadful thoughts came to his mind. What if he arrived too late? What if his last sight of you was the life leaving your body? This pushed him to go harder, he would not leave you empty handed.

He forced those terrible thoughts out of his mind, the only thing he thought about now was his breathing. In and out, in and out.

————————————————————————-

“I’ll be meeting Hotaru here, you boys search the area. Tanjiro and Zenitsu search the village, Inosuke search the woods.” You ordered.

“Yes!” All three said in unison. Due to how seriously you were taking this impromptu mission, the boys got a little caught up in it too. Tanjiro had become a lot more serious and concerned even though he had concocted the fake mission. He turned to look at Zenitsu who was staring at you trembling.

“But (y/n), you don’t have a sword, what are you going to do if the demon shows up?” He asked, tears flowing from his eyes.

“Don’t you know anything about me Zenitsu? I’ve always got a trick up my sleeve.” You said with a sly smirk. You pulled back your sleeve to reveal three insanely sharp throwing knives; each one had a purple tip. Little did Zenitsu know these knives were laced with wisteria; a small touch both you and Shinobu worked on.

“Come on hurry, Zenitsu. We have to go.” Tanjiro said while pulling him by the collar of his haori.

“But Tanjiro! What are we going to do if she gets hurt!” He cried.

Once out of earshot, Tanjiro pulled Zenitsu aside.

“We’ve got to stick to the original plan, remember? Hotaru will be here any minute and we’ve got to be ready!” Tanjiro said with a bright smile.

“First we will go patrol the village, then by the time we get back Hotaru will surely have made it.”

Together they took off towards the village.

————————————————————————-

The wait was long and uneventful, you sat at the edge of the grove making patterns in the soft dirt. This was weird, all of it was, why were you given a mission on such short notice. Wouldn’t Master Kagaya have said something during the meeting, besides he knew you didn’t have a sword. Something was not right and it made you nervous. You stood to the sound of your crow calling, they must be close you thought to yourself.

You watched the sky patiently, over the horizon your bird came into view.  He flew straight till he met the middle of the wisteria grove, to which he swooped in and landed.

————————————————————————-

“Hotaru? Hotaru? Hotaru?” You called as you parted what seemed to be a curtain of vines. When you stepped inside your eyes searched in the darkness, you could barely make out a thing. Slowly you backed up, anticipating an attack from any direction.

Suddenly a twig snapped from behind you, pinpointing exactly where the sound originated, you dipped and swept your leg. First a loud thud hit the ground followed by a low groan.

————————————————————————

“Zenitsu, has (y/n) made it inside yet?” Tanjiro loudly whispered

“OH NO! IT SOUNDS LIKE SHE’S BEATING HIM UP!” Yelled Zenitsu after hearing your attack.

“INOSUKE! LIGHT THE LANTERNS!” Tanjiro ordered.

In a flash, Inosuke jumped from his perch high in an oak tree. On his way down he lit a match on the roof of his mouth, when he made his way to the ground he found the fuse that connected all the lanterns together.

As soon as the match touched the end of the fuse a bright spark appeared zoomed down the line causing everything in its wake to turn to ash. They lost sight of the spark as it quickly rounded the corner and into the bush; a bright light illuminated the otherside.

————————————————————————-

“Oh Hotaru! I'm som sorry! I had no idea it was you, here let me help you up!” You said apologetically as you helped Hotaru off of the ground.

“No, no, no I should have said something so as not to catch you so off guard.” He replied. The truth was that he had been so captivated by you. You left him speechless.

“How was the tri-oh.” You caught his eyes, this had been the first time you had seen him without his mask. He looked at you confused till he realized his mistake, he had been in such a rush he had forgotten his mask. He was handsome, very handsome at that. His long dark hair flowed to his shoulders, his dark eyebrows perfectly rested above his sharp eyes. After staring at him for what seemed like ages you snapped out of your trance.

“Oh! Oh no! I’m sorry! Again! Here I’ll cover my eyes!” You said as you turned your back to him covering your eyes.

“No it’s alright, I don’t mind if you see me!” He said he reached out for you. He pulled your hands away from your eyes and held them gently. He smiled when he met your gaze. How pretty you looked in the soft orange light, your (h/c) shimmering in the dance of the flames.

‘Such a beautiful sight’ he thought to himself as his thumb gently rubbed the top of your hand.

“Hotaru? You wouldn’t have my sword with you do you?” You asked, peering at the box that had been knocked out of his hands when he fell.

“Of course, (L/n)san! Please, excuse me.” He said sheepishly as he reached for the box.

“Well, they aren’t exactly your sword but I had these two, they are one of the first ones I made for Uzui Tengen. I’m sorry, (y/n). I wasn’t able to make your sword in time.” He said as he bowed, holding the swords up to you. You took them in your hands and swung them simultaneously.

“Flashy. I like em, Hotaru. Mind if I keep em.” You asked, admiring the weapons in your hands.

Hotaru looked up at you, in his eyes there wasn’t a more glorious scene. You held his creation with such pride and joy.

He didn’t care that you were reckless, and wild. In his eyes you were a symbol of beauty and strength, someone as perfect as you should not exist in the real world; only in books and folktales.

“These swords are just about as beautiful as how you’ve decorated the trees. You getting sweet on me, Hotaru?” You asked observing the vines and trees all decorated with flowers.

“The lanterns are a nice touch, it looks like you put a lot of hard work into all this. This is very nice.” You said as you continued to look around you.

“What’s the occasion?” You asked, turning to look at Hotaru who stood with his hands behind his back. He looked at you confused, you had thought he had put all this together? For you? Seeing you so pleased by this made him curse himself for not coming up with a similar gesture.

“I...I...I-” Hotaru stuttered before loud running could be heard tearing through the brush.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)!” Called Tanjiro from the otherside of the vines. Soon Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Tanjiro with Nezuko in tow, fell through the barrier.

“What’s going on? Did you find the demon?” You asked.

“No, the village and forest were all clear! What should we do now?” They asked. Their gaze then turned to Hotaru who was sheepishly standing behind you waiting for your attention once more. All three boys began to grin and giggle amongst themselves. You took in the situation and blushed slightly from their reaction.

“Are we interrupting something?” Asked Zenitsu with a sly grin. To which Inosuke began to laugh from seeing your reaction.

“Zenitsu! Inosuke! Come on, they are clearly having a romantic conversation that we should not interfere with! They would like to talk in private!” Tanjiro said confidently as he hoisted Zenitsu and Inosuke under his arms.

“Oooooo Hotaru! How romantic! Such a beautiful place to have a date!” Yelled Inosuke and Zenitsu as they were being carried away. Hotaru blushed at their comments and had you not been standing so close he would have chased them till they collapsed. But before the boys were out of sight they turned to look at Hotaru, they all three grinned widely and held up their thumbs. Tanjiro mouthed the words,

‘You got this!’ Before shoving both of his thumbs in the air.

They were...helping him? They had pulled this all together to help him? Surely not, especially after how many times he threatened to kill Tanjiro. This had to be deeper than that, why else would they go out of their way to make such a gesture? Unless...you felt the same way towards him? Quickly he pushed the idea out of his head, there was no way you felt so warmly towards him. He was just your swordsmith, the person behind the scenes. You were an achieved warrior, someone who others could look to in a time of need.

“Hotaru? Did you put this all together for me?” You asked, tearing him away from his thoughts.

“I-I did!” He stammered out quickly.

“What was the reason for such a gesture? Is there something you would like to tell me?” You asked Hotaru, turning to face him. Although you kept a cool exterior, inside your heart was doing flips. Was he about to confess to you? Was this what you had been looking for all along? Perhaps, revenge and justice wouldn’t fill the whole in you but maybe affection and acceptance would?

“(Y/n), I have something I have to tell you.” He spoke clearly now and stood tall. Now was his chance to lay everything out that had been on his heart.

“I’m tired of living like this. I’m tired of hiding behind my mask. I’m tired of only being near you when I bring you another sword. No, I’m done living like this.” He said before he approached you and pulled you to his chest by your arms; blades falling from your hands.

“Hotaru? What are you-” his lips cut off your words before another one could be uttered. He pulled you into such a passionate kiss, a one that conveyed years of pent up emotions. All came flowing out in an instant.

You melted in his embrace, his hands moved from your arms to your face. He cupped your head so gently. His touch was full of love and adoration. Never in your life had you felt such a feeling. This had been everything you had been looking for.

Slowly he pulled away, still holding your face. In the distance quiet cheers could be heard.

————————————————————————-

When you entered your home your eyes immediately looked for the boys. The three sat side by side grinning from ear to ear. You put your hands to your hips and donned a serious look.

“Is there something you boys would like to tell me?” You questioned.

You knew the boys were behind it all, and still you played along. Because in the end, you got everything you had ever dreamed of wanting. And it wasn’t revenge, justice, or vengeance, but a chance to live. To live not for those who passed but for yourself.

Yours and Hotaru’s relationship blossomed from that day forth. Days after missions were spent together, oftentimes you stayed with him when you were home.

You’d sit and watch as he’d forge his blades with incredible passion. After the day was long over, and you convinced him he worked hard enough, the two of you would spend your evenings in each other's arms; always falling asleep entangled with one another.

You were his pride and joy. You sat so patiently, watching him work.

‘Such a pretty thing’ he thought to himself when he happened to steal a glance. Of course, he still made you a new sword whenever you needed one, but now he could impose a “punishment” he saw fit. Then again he never heard you complain.

“Hotaru! It’s me! I’m back! Hotaru?” You called as you entered his home, your last mission had been long and time consuming so once it was finished you immediately ran home.

As you walked in, Hotaru rounded the corner from his room with his hands behind his back.

“Close your eyes, my spiderlily. I have a surprise for you.” He came behind you and put his hand over your eyes. You jittered with excitement. His other hand moved in front of you.

“Now open them.” He said softly as he withdrew his hand from in front of your face.

In his hand was a beautiful bundle of wild flowers and wisteria blossoms, fresh from the spring weather.

You squealed and jumped with joy, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling Hotaru in a smothering embrace. He buried his head into your neck and squeezed you back even harder.

“Oh Hotaru, they are just like the ones from the grove! They are beautiful! I love them so much!” You cried as you held them close and smelled them.

“I may have had some help.” Hotaru replied with a wide smile across his face.

“They are perfect!”

“You are perfect.”

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Mistaken Identity

Osamu x gn!reader

You wished you’d paid more attention now. Telling your friend about the handsome boy that you literally ran into over the weekend when you walked through the door of a coffee shop, knocking his drink all over the front of his shirt before insisting on buying him a new one while your face blazed with embarrassment. He had agreed, but only if you joined him at the table outside he was originally heading for to have a drink with him now. He had been the sweetest, a perfect gentleman even after the mishap you’d caused when you met, and you hadn’t looked at the napkin he left on the table until he was long gone, with just the name Miya and a completely unreadable phone number.

Your friend had insisted she could figure out who it was, demanding information, and you knew what he told you, whether or not it was true. He talked about playing volleyball, he talked about food, and the goofy things his brother or teammates had done, but you couldn’t name much else about him. You thought you would know him if you ever saw him again, but it’s not like you were getting your hopes up either. The chances were a long shot.

When your friend found you a week later, swearing she found him, you couldn’t help but feel like it was too easy. She swore she overheard him talking about the incident with other members of the school’s volleyball team, and you couldn’t get her to cancel the meeting if you wanted to. But that was what led you here, sitting across from a face you remembered very well, but you felt like was something was off. He was flirtier than before, and kept bragging about how good and athletic he was, and your eyes kept dragging up to his poor blonde dye job. What caught you off guard the most were his eyes. They were the same color you remembered, but they weren’t the same. This was him but it also wasn’t somehow. And that thought made you feel terrible, because this was the face you’d been thinking about for the last week, wasn’t it? Had you romanticized the first meeting too much? You weren’t even sure anymore.

“Sorry, what position did you play again?”

“‘M the setter. Basically the most important for everythin’ to run smooth.” You smiled and nodded but you could feel your brows furrow in response, hadn’t he said before that setters were too cocky? He chuckled, almost like he was reading that thought in your head, “This might sound stupid, but we haven’t met before, have we?” You bit your lip, but he nodded with a grin, “Naw, it’s okay, I can tell my responses have been off, ya know? Yer friend heard me talkin’ to the guys, but I wasn’t tellin’ them about my weekend.”

“She said-“

“She said I described it the same ya did when ya told her, right?” You nodded, still confused, “I wasn’t tellin’ ‘em my story. I was sorta just makin’ fun of ma brother.”

“You’re the twin…” You muttered, more to yourself than anything, understanding finally coloring your tone.

“Ah, so ‘Samu told ya ‘bout me, huh?” The faux blonde sighed, rolling his eyes, “Prolly mostly stuff about me annoying him, right? Bet he was afraid I’d steal ya.” He winked, sending a smirk your way before he laughed, “Kiddin’, I was gonna tell yer friend she had the wrong guy, but I wanted to see the person that had my brother so smitten.”

“I knew something was different when I saw you.” You confessed, “I just couldn’t put my finger on what.”

“What was yer gut sayin’?”

You bit your lip, was it stupid to be honest? “Your eyes. They’re different than I remembered.” He snorted, the laugh was so similar.

“That’s definitely not what most people notice at first. But ‘Samu was ranting about how you were special.”

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks, even though you weren’t someone that got embarrassed, but hearing him say his brother thought that of you did the job. Suddenly you groaned, “I don’t know if I can ever bring myself to look him in the face again now.”

He just shook his head, “Don’t ya worry too much, ya hear me? He doesn’t even know about us meeting today, so ‘s not like he’ll think ya planned ta meet me instead of him.”

“It’s not that. I-“ you could feel your face grow a little redder as you mumbled, “I couldn’t remember enough about what he looked like to even describe him accurately. So she found you- and I’m sorry, what the hell is your name?”

He just laughed, “‘m Atsumu, and my brother is Osamu.”

“So Osamu is the one I ran into…hypothetically-“

“No hypothetical about it, I’ve already taken care of it.” He smirked, shifting to his feet before waving at something over your head, “Hey! Weirdest thing, this lovely person just started talking about how they met someone that looked just like me. Would ya know about that, ‘Samu?”

You stiffened, a similar voice snapping back, “What are ya runnin’ yer mouth about, piss hair?”

Atsumu just snorted, “If that’s how ya wanna be, I’ll just take this date with Y/N then.”

The footsteps you heard coming suddenly stopped, and you could almost feel his stare at the back of your head and you cursed yourself for not running as soon as you realized you met the wrong brother today. Slowly, almost painstakingly, you started to turn around before Atsumu just groaned, stomping over and dragging Osamu to stand in front of you. “Hi, ‘Samu.” You muttered shyly.

“Y/N. So ya found the better twin, then?” If his voice had sounded smug, you would’ve believed he meant finding him. But it sounded almost defeated, and you realized he thought you liked Atsumu more. Your hand snapped out, grasping his wrist as he went to turn away.

“I did. Last week. But then I couldn’t read his number through his chicken scratch and had to resort to my friend eavesdropping on the boys’ volleyball team, only for the okay twin to set us up right.” You could feel how hot your face was getting, praying that you weren’t making a mistake, “I remembered him talking about the food he wanted to make like a spark was burning inside him, I remembered him talking about the stunts his brother pulled with a fond exasperation, and I remembered the way his eyes showed their interest when he asked me questions no matter boring my answers were. But as much as I remembered, I couldn’t for the life of me picture his hair color, or his height, or typical things someone remembers about a person because I didn’t care about any of it. What made him the better twin was his personality, and his humor, and his conviction of what he wants in life. And I really, really hope he feels the same way I do so I’m not making a complete embarrassment of myself right now.” You shifted your eyes to stare at your feet, waiting for a response that didn’t seem like it was coming.

“Osamu, aren’t you gonna-“

“Beat it, Tsumu.”

“Excuse me!?” The setter squawked, “After what I did for ya, yer just gonna-“

“Me and Y/N have a date we need to do,” your head snapped up, seeing that fond look back in his eyes, “So head home. I left dinner in the fridge for ya.”

Atsumu grinned, saluting the two of you before making his way down the sidewalk. You smiled shyly at the grey haired brother, “You made him dinner?”

“Not exactly.” Osamu shrugged, “But I made food earlier, and I don’t care too much about him eatin’ it if it means I can stay here with ya.”

“I would really like it if you stayed, ‘Samu.” You chuckled at the flush that hit his cheeks when you said his name, “But maybe when you leave me this time you could put your number into my actual phone? I haven’t learned how to decode your handwriting yet.”

He groaned, but he was smiling, and maybe the mistaken identity wasn’t so bad if it led you this.

Masterlist

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

[hotwings0203]

I JUST SAW FIGHT CLUB AND HOOOLLYYY-

Bro could you IMAGINE FightClub!Bakugo?

Tw:noncon, language, harassment

Okay okay get this: you’re down in the basement listening to the usual men holler and punch each other around while you do your job as their cute little “accountant”. While many of them have good jobs and a real life, the actual members don’t have time or the intellect to juggle the numbers and money around as fast as you can. You’ve been coming here for a while now, and you’re used to the jeers and wolf-whistles coming your way since you’re basically one of the few or only women who dare to come down here.

But there’s one fighter who just can’t seem to take no for an answer.

Bakugo fucking Katsuki.

The man is ruthless, he’s relentless, he’s a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. You swear he’s had to have taken a shitload of steroids in his youth, otherwise how else could he have built up that much muscle? There’s no way an average gym-goer has that kinda build.

He’s always the first and the last one out in the rink, swaying back and forth with his fists up, a twisted grin on his face that was so reminiscent of a wolf before it lunges for its prey.

It usually took more than two men to pull him off the unconscious bodies that he had just beaten to a pulp, effectively breaking one of Fight Clubs Rules: get up when someone is down.

But he’s too good to let go, no one has the balls to tell him to take his money somewhere else since they’re all scared shitless of him.

Which leads him to believing that he’s practically a god down here, that he can conquer anything: including you.

No one really calls it harassment because no one really cares. What’s so wrong in a guy having a little crush? What, you came down here seeing all this testosterone but you can’t deal with it yourself? Don’t be a prudish bitch.

“Bakugo, I’m at work right now, I don’t want to.”

“C’mon toots, this ain’t even real work, you’re just fumblin’ my hard earned cash.” He grins slyly and crosses his bulging muscular arms, leaning against the doorway of the little office you’re given to work your magic.

You turn in your rickety seat and glare at him, ignoring the way he licks his lips and lets his eyes roam all over your body. “If I’m so shit at my work then go somewhere else and stop bothering me.”

He chuckles in his baritone voice and shakes his head at you. “Naw, can’t do that sweets. If I did then I’d never be able to see your pretty face again now, could I?” Bakugo leers at you and you turn your face in disgust.

“I don’t wanna go out for lunch, or ever with you. Now get out before I have to call someone in here.”

“Oh, is that so?” He uncrosses his arms and steps through the threshold, his body growing larger and more menacing as he slowly draws closer to you. Luckily a fight had broken out near the office months ago so there was no more door from the aftereffects, but that didn’t mean you felt safe even with open space.

“G-get out. I’m serious, Bakugo-“

“-Call me Katsuki, angel. And you don’t really mean that, do you? Look at you, you can barely look me in the eye when you say such mean things.” His voice drops an octave as he comes to stand in front of your seated form, towering above your wide eyes, clenched fists and trembling figure.

He leans down and you flinch and gasp as his breath ghosts over your face. He places both arms on either side of your chair so you have nowhere to look but him.

“You’re such a nice breath of fresh hair down here, through all the blood and violence. You’re like a flower...” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear and breaths out a laugh when you turn your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“A flower, so fragile...a flower that smells so fucking good...” you feel like you can’t properly breathe as he leans in next to your ear and inhales deeply.

“A flower waiting to be deflowered herself.”

“What’s going on here?” A lanky body in the doorway appears.

Bakugo pulls back and turns his head ever so slightly towards the dude, growling under his breath at the interruption.

“We’re in the middle of something here, so you can just get the fuck ou-“

“-Well, it doesn’t really look like she’s into whatever you’re doing,” the man scoffs and takes in your pale face and shaking hands.

Bakugo stands to his fullest height, almost neck and neck with the man at the door.

“Yeah? I didn’t hear a complaint from her.” He cocks his head and stretches, allowing his muscles to ripple with each movement, something that didn’t go unseen by your much skinnier savior.

But he doesn’t back down. He only swallows and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, we’re all being called out to put our bets in for the next match anyways, so you better come out before we get our asses kicked.”

The blond grumbles about weak men and no balls, then casts a dark look at your frozen figure before shouldering past the man at the door, almost knocking him down.

As soon as he’s out of your line of vision, you exhale and relax into your seat.

“You okay?” The fallen soldier scrambles back up and cautiously approaches you, looking over your body in a way that didn’t remind you of Bakugo undressing you with his eyes...rather, it was a protective, and worried once-over.

“Yeah, he’s just...a lot to handle sometimes. Doesn’t know when to quit.” You laugh shakily and run a hand through your hair.

“No wonder the dude’s a menace. He’s used to getting what he wants, I guess.” The man acknowledges this grimly, and for the first time you’re relieved that finally someone hasn’t turned a blind eye to your harassment.

“Are they really calling us down for bets?”

“No, I just said that to get him off your ass. Didn’t seem like you liked whatever he was doing.”

You give him a wobbly smile and he returns it.

“Sooo we should probably run before he comes back up here, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” you actually giggle before leaping out of your seat and joining the man to bound up the steps two at a time to freedom.

You both end up bonding pretty well over the weeks, even going out for coffee and lunch dates here and there. You’ve come to really like him, his shyer demeanor more than a majority of the ragtag men down in the basements, his chivalry refreshing to you amongst the blood and foul language thrown around the ring.

You feel like a woman with him, not some piece of ass like you were used to.

Bakugo noticed all this, of course. You started avidly avoiding him, ducking your head down and hiding behind your new ally before he could open his coarse mouth and stalk towards you. He couldn’t find you in your dingy office anymore either, because your savior was up in a cafe doing the calculations with you, laughing away about the latest matches.

That has to change. Effective immediately.

“Yo, newbie. How you been? Haven’t seen you fightin’ here for a while,” Bakugo claps his meaty hand on the scrawny guy’s back, nearing sending him toppling over.

“Yeah, y’know, just haven’t been feeling it lately.” He rubs the stinging feeling away from his sore shoulders and side eyes the blond suspiciously. He had seen firsthand just how bad-news of a guy he was, and he didn’t wanna get caught up in all that.

But Katsuki wasn’t just all brawn. He had some brains, too.

“Look, I know I prolly gave off a weird first impression with Y/N back then. But it’s all in good health, ‘was just messin’ around like I always do.”

“Yeah, sure...”

“How ‘bout we get some coffee or somethin’? You seem like a solid dude, plus we got shit in common to talk about.”

Like fucking around with my bitch.

“Uh, you sure? I kinda’ wanted to see the last fight,” he trails off unsuredly, scratching his jaw as Katsuki steers him away from the growing crowd.

“There’ll always be fights, man. I wanna show you that I’m a nice guy.”

Bakugo Katsuki was not a nice guy.

And everyone knew that too, which is why when some shifted to give the duo a curious glance he met them with a death glare. Any gazes locked on Katsuki’s hand wrapped around the lanky guy’s shoulders were immediately casted down.

You didn’t see your savior for a while.

It had been two weeks since he mysteriously disappeared from his usual place in the outskirts of the crowd, because unbeknownst to you, a certain fighter was keeping him away from you and convincing him to have a friendly brawl over lunch.

You only found out about it on a Friday night, when a crowd much bigger than before was gathered in the dim basement, voices hushed and whispering.

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone so quiet?” You whisper to one of the usuals.

“‘Heard Bakugo’s fighting some dude that was handpicked by himself. He somehow managed to convince the poor bastard to have some kinda’ match with him.”

You felt your heart sinking.

“Who did he pick?”

“‘Dunno, some skinny guy, a newbie I think. Hasn’t been around for too long so I guess he doesn’t know how big of a monster he’s gonna be beaten by.” The groupie shrugged, and you felt the blood drain from your face.

Without saying another word, you spun around and started running around all over the place looking for either of the two.

You end up stumbling into the men’s bathroom, desperate beyond salvation to stop this bloodbath.

He’s there, he’s at the urinal and he yelps when he hears you barge in. You avert your eyes and let his adjust himself as he sputters indignantly.

“Y/N? What’re you doing in here? This is a men’s-“

“Don’t fight him.”

“What?”

“Don’t fight Bakugo, please, he’s gonna kill you, I know he is-“

“-Calm down, what’re you so worked up about? C’mon, I would’ve thought you’d had a little bit more faith in me to be able to stand my ground.” He teases you but you don’t find it funny, on the contrary you’re terrified out of your mind for his life.

“Did he put you up to this? How could you fight him, you’ve seen what he does to the other guys in the ring!”

“Well yeah, but he knows not to go that hard on me. Actually, he’s not that bad of a guy, we’ve gotten some drinks for the past two weeks and I was wrong about him.”

You gape at him. “Wrong? You saw how he cornered me that one day!”

He shrugs, not put off by the distant memory. “The guy just came back from a fight, he still had testosterone going through him. You can’t blame him for wanting to let a bit of it out, right? You should really give him a chance y’know, he talks about you all the t-“

But you can’t hear anymore, this is madness, there’s barely 10 minutes left until they’re going to call the two down for their death match. You need to find the source of this problem firsthand.

And somehow, a little voice inside your head tells you exactly where you know he is.

You round the corner to your office and there he is in all his glory, seated like a king on your chair, leaned back with his knees spread, carelessly looking through your bank statements and bet papers.

He barely looks at you as he says, “Oh there you are, I was starting to think you’d miss the show.”

You sink to your knees.

He looks up at that.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, your dry throat barely permits you to choke out, “Bak-Katsuki, please, please don’t do this. Please don’t fight him.”

He cracks his neck and leans forward, regarding you with dark vermilion eyes. He looks your position over appreciatively before speaking.

“Why not? He’s so good and great isn’t he? I’m just trying to show you how right you were, after all. I’m sure he’s got a fair chance of beating me.”

You shake your head vigorously, knowing what he’s playing at.

“No, no, you’re better, please. I was wrong about him, I shouldn’t have been friends with him, please don’t fight him Katsuki I’ll do anything-“

“-Oh you’ll do anything I say regardless of if I beat him to a bloody pulp or not. You wanna know why?”

You can barely contain a whimper as he stands and walks over right in front of you, his bulging crotch mere inches away from your face.

He suddenly grabs your hair and you cry out before he yanks your head up to meet his cold eyes.

“Because no one in here is gonna say shit to me. I run things here, toots. And if you want your little boy toy to live through today, you’re gonna watch every blow I give to him, and you’re gonna kiss the fucking knuckles I beat his face with. Got that?”

You sob as he grinds his clothed erection against your tear-streaked face, sniffling when he moans loudly and bucks into your open mouth.

A loud knock on the bare hinges stops Bakugo from pulling the front of his shorts down.

You both turn your heads and see a red-faced side-liner looking down and mumbling something about the match starting.

“‘Be there in a minute. Tell the guys to give my girl here a special front-row seat to this match, she’s gonna wanna see her man win, after all.”

The runner scampers off, leaving you both alone.

He bares his teeth down at you and you cower under his painful hold, the roots of your hair ripping from their strands.

He eventually tosses your head to the side after a few seconds of staring you down, and the second he does you clutch your sore cranium.

“I better see you down there in a minute sweet thing. You gotta get used to it anyways, since you’re gonna be getting accustomed to my rituals before and after matches.”

[monaisdark]

AHHHH! I loved your virgin shiggy post, I was wondering if you could make a part two with reader giving shigaraki a tit-fuck in an empty classroom, with degradation kink, and exhibition kink! I'm sorry if this too horny - Anon ♥♥

haha.. im back i guess. Its been a couple weeks but i have some time to start writing again :)) checking my inbox, i did NOT expect this many people wanting a pt2 to my virgin shiggy post. prolly my fault for holding it off for so long :/ so i made it longer than i planned but count this a thanks for 200+ followers!! <3 anyways i really need to catch up on my inbox but expect more from me !!

➨ paring — Virgin! (not anymore) Tomura Shigaraki x Fem! Bully! Reader

➨ warnings — Sub! Shigaraki, Dom! Reader, mommy kink, slight masturbation, humiliation, degradation, begging, exhibition, tit-fucking, hand-job, cum denial

PART 1

Shigaraki messed up. It’s been a week. A week since you cornered him in a room and took his virginity.

He still remembers what you told him when you left— “Take a shower tomorrow. Also wear a different top for god’s sake. If you do... I might let you touch me.” 

Shigaraki beat himself over for agreeing to it as soon as he got home. You were his bully. One of the people making his school experience even more unbearable than it already was.

Yet he completely was undone as soon as you placed your hands on him, and you knew it. He just didn’t know what you wanted.

Dick? No, you were pretty and popular— you could probably get some from more desirable guys. To bully him? Sure, you said mean things to him during the encounter but the bullying was always around your friends.

For a whole school week, he stayed home. Making up some bullshit to the school that he had the flu. Frankly, he was scared to go. How was he supposed to face you?

Did you tell anyone? Secretly record it? Was he currently the laughing stock of the entire school for begging to continue to fuck you?

But even away from school, you had an effect on him. He’s still a horny guy. Now, jerking off wasn’t the same anymore, not when he had some taste of pussy thanks to you.

Shigaraki would always end up thinking back to you, even with porn he couldn’t get you out of his head. His hands clamping around his cock weren’t the same as your pussy, same with the bodies of other women.

He found himself indulging into mommy kink porn, something he didn’t really get off from before you. Shigaraki pretend it was you talking to him, bouncing onto his lap and letting him touch you.

But after a bit— Shigaraki found it going no where, they weren’t you.

Cursing, he would always finish early. And not in a good way. In a way where he was left unsatisfied. Putting his painfully hard cock back into his sweats and trying to sleep his horny-ness away.

Shigaraki realized he needed you, you talking to him, you around his cock. Now, he regretted not sticking to his word. But he’ll make it up for you.

You were quite mad. Shigaraki hasn’t been to school since that day. How ungrateful, you literally let him put his dick in you and now he ghosts you in real life.

You fully expected him to be at school the next day with the way he begged you to stay, clean and ready for you. So imagine your annoyance in seeing him not show up for several days.

But today was different, the newly ex-virgin actually showed up. To your surprise, he still did more than you expected him to do despite being a week late.

Shigaraki had changed his hoodie to a whole new one, it looked recently bought. As well as his hair, looking more soft than greasy like it typically was. Though he didn’t style it, it still overhanging on his face.

Still, he definitely looked a lot better, not enough for others to notice but enough for you to smirk at your work.

Both of you didn’t interact with each other besides a few glances until lunch. You guys sat on completely different ends of the cafeteria, him sitting in a small corner table while you sat in a large one.

Shigaraki looked fidgety, meekly looking up every few minutes to watch you interact with your friends. He was waiting for school to end, planning to catch you at the same empty classroom you took his virginity in.

Though you had completely other plans.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” You got up from your table, grabbing your bag from off the floor. “To?” One of your friends asked, not looking up from their phone.

“Some nerd, he’s gonna do my homework we got last period. Apparently, his parents found out he’s been doing our homework and now he's gotta do them during lunch. Gotta make sure they do it right.” You lied through your teeth, hoping they would just back off.

They didn’t look up, instead pulling their homework worksheet out of their binder with one hand, putting it in yours, “Get him to do mine.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the paper, “Yeah.” You walked away, crumbling the paper to throw it in the trash. You’ll just say you lost it. Not like they’ll do anything about it.

Narrowed eyes landed on Shigaraki, his eyes currently focused on his phone. You strudded your way to him, smirking to yourself.

Shigaraki almost jumped when he felt something brush against his leg. Looking up, he was met with you sitting down next to him.

“Hey.” You said, placing your bag on the table and putting your last period’s homework on the table.

“You’re good at chemistry, right?” You questioned, shifting through your bag for something to write with.

“...Well— I... um...—“ Shigaraki stuttered, unsure of what was currently going on.

“Great.” You pulled the phone out of his clammy hands, replacing it with a pencil. “...What?” He tilted his head, was this a joke? Did you completely forget about a week ago?

“Hm...? Well, get onto it.” You uttered him on, putting your chin in your hands, eyeing him. Reluctantly, he looked back to paper, beginning to work on it.

After around 5 minutes, you brushed against him even more, getting close to his side. “What does that say?” You pushed yourself further into his side, your chest touching his arms.

Shigaraki cursed himself for already becoming red, he pants tightening around his crotch as last week flashed into his head again.

“Um... m-mole is a unit of measur— Hmph!“ He held back a loud whine when your right hand traveled to his crotch.

“What— what are you doing?” He asked under his breath, holding back small whimpers as you palmed him, “Where have you been?” You questioned sternly, upset he kept you waiting.

“I’m sorry... I got sick.” He bluffed, it was too embarrassing to admit he was scared. With how he left you hanging, he expected people to be laughing at him the moment he stepped onto school grounds.

“Sick? A whole week?” You hummed, you could already tell he was lying. Still, you were proud that he even bothered to make it up to you by fixing himself up.

“With your diet of energy drinks and chips, I’m surprised you’re not dead.” You decided to let it go, he was just nervous to show up.

Yet you think he deserves a bit of punishment.

Shigaraki felt heavy as you teased the zipper of his jeans. He immediately tensed, “Wait— now..?” He saw you narrow your eyes, “Something wrong?”

“There’s people here!” He whispered yelled, flinching as he felt you unzip his jeans ever so slowly, trailing your finger along his exposed boxers.

“So? You’re just some loser in the corner, nobody will notice if you aren’t obvious.”

Shigaraki could already feel pre-cum form at his tip, staining his boxers a bit. You giggled a bit, feeling the dampness of his boxers. “Already?” Shigaraki shook his head, “I... I haven’t came since... that day.”

You laughed a bit louder than you expected to, good thing the cafeteria was already loud. “How sweet of you. Couldn’t get it on?”

Shigaraki focused his eyes on your paper, muffled moans caught at the back of his throat as you freed his cock from his boxers.

Now slowly pumping him, Shigaraki dropped the pen of the table. He wanted to do something with his hands, to touch you.

He moved his hand to your thigh, but of course, you didn’t allow him, “You’re too eager. Get back to work.” You ordered. Shigaraki was about to question you but you stopped him with stroking his cock faster.

Both of you continued this way for a bit, him answering questions with his shaky hands while you jerked him off.

Shigaraki could’ve sworn he felt eyes on him a couple of times, yet every time he looked up, nobody was even batting an eye in his direction.

He could feel his cock twitch at the excitement of being caught. How would they explain one of the most popular girls giving an outcast a hand-job under the table?

As he got to the last question— he was already drooling on the paper, mouth clenched shut to avoid moaning and panting to be let out.

You could tell he was about to cum, the writing on the paper progressively getting sloppier as time went on. “M-mommy...” Shigaraki whispered just enough for you to hear, “Hmm, you want to cum?”

He nodded furiously, he was extremely pent up and needed release. And just as he thought, you were the only one who can give it to him.

Shigaraki whimpered when you pulled away, looking up at the clock and collecting your stuff. “Then after school, room 204. Actually listen and show up when I tell you this time.”

You walked away just in time for the bell to go off, signifying that lunch was over. Leaving Shigaraki, once again, a mess.

Here he was again, feeling nostalgic as you walked into the empty classroom. Shigaraki easily grew again while anticipating this, the tent prominent in his jeans.

“Y’know, good job for showering and changing.” You gave him praise, Shigaraki turning red from your words. “This... this means I can touch you, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I actually keep promises.” He ignored the jab at him, it didn’t matter how mean you were— he was going to touch you finally.

Shigaraki awkwardly shuffled towards you, raising his hands up to look at you with wide eyes. He slowly paced a hand on your boobs, trying to see if this was just some test and you’ll get mad at him.

When he didn’t get anything back, he immediately started to dough on your clothed breast, cupping them. Then, he moved to unbutton your shirt, already seeing you thought ahead and took off your bra before coming here.

He fully took off your shirt, not wasting time on latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, both hands playing with your breasts. Shigaraki was basically humping your leg, sucking your nipples like a baby.

You giggled a bit, patting his head. He looked up at you with a clouded look, pure joy in his eyes as he finally got to touch you.

Looking back down at him, another idea popped up— you already took his virginity and gave him his first hand-job, whats another one of his firsts? “Shigaraki, do you want to feel really good?” He unlatched from your nipple, “I can be inside you?”

“No.” He frowned a bit, but perked up when you trailed your fingers on his boxers. “What if I put this,” You pointed at your boobs, “In between these?”

Shigaraki was already down, eagerly sitting on a desk while you got on your knees. He freed his cock, putting it in between your slick pushed together breasts, thanks to his sucking earlier.

You wasted no time on stroking it up and down with your breasts. He moaned feeling the softness of the valley between your chest, your breasts around his cock giving him warmth as you stimulated him.

Shigaraki was definitely feeling great, you even let him bend down and grab your breasts to control the speed of the tit-job.

Though, Shigaraki wanted more. You were giving him all these things, a hand-job, a tit-fuck. He’s been inside you once and he didn’t get to do what he wanted in the first place. To cum inside his mommy.

He feels a knot grow in his lower abdomen, but he doesn’t wanna cum yet. Instead, he pulled himself away from you, much to your confusion.

“What? You literally were about to cum and I was gonna let you!” You groaned, getting up as Shigaraki faced you.

“...Mommy, can I fuck you?”

“No, you didn’t come to school for a whole week. If you really wanted to you would have showed up.”

Shigaraki turned red, sputtering as he held onto your arm, “Please! I just want you cum inside you.” He whined, tears pricking at the chance of not getting to have sex with you after all this time.

You looked at him stoned faced as he begged, even falling to his knees dramatically to add to his desperation. “Fucking virgins, man.”

Shigaraki felt himself be pushed down, your skirt and panties on the floor. You straddled onto his length, moans filling the room quickly.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, mommy!” Shigaraki thrusted his hips into yours, feeling even more over-joyed when he was allowed to touch your chest while you were on top of him this time.

Shigaraki desperately missed this, now he remembers why his hand didn’t compare to your tight pussy after trying to jerk off. He found his own rhythm quickly, muffled ‘mommy’s due to his mouth on your breasts.

“I’m doing this because you cleaned up, if you didn’t I would’ve left you to your own sad-ass devices already.” You lied, honestly, you hated the idea what he possibly was ignoring you by not showing up to school.

Even then, you’ve grown a bit found of him. His body, his expressions, his voice, everything really. It didn’t bother you as much when you saw his still messy hair, you were just glad to see him.

Though, you’d never admit it. Instead, it showed through the way you were tightening around his cock, panting as he moaned into and out your body. Shigaraki very quickly wrapped his arms around you, both of you on the edge.

“Fuck— Shigaraki. Cum, cum for mommy, okay?” You ordered, Shigaraki more than ready to fulfill it.

“Ah, thank you! Thank you, mommy! I’m gonna cum inside you!” Both of you rided out your highs, Shigaraki filling you so much it started to drip outside your full cunt.

He fell on top of you despite you initially being on top, you wanted to scold him but honestly couldn’t bring yourself to right now.

The room quieted down, the only words being exchanged were by Shigaraki softly muttering “Thank you, mommy.” into your neck

[n1kigirlfriend]

LEADER DUTIES CHAPTER 1

“Ughhhhh you always leave us for your precious jungwon yn” Jiwoo complained of you missing NMIXX’s weekly movie night

“Ji, I barely leave you and I haven’t seen jungwon in 2 weeks, also jungwon is very precious thank you very much” I replied

“It’s fine more food for us” Lily said

“Kay bye see you at 10” I said while shutting the door.

Yes me yn from nmixx is dating ENHYPEN leader yang jungwon

I wait at the cafe we promised to meet until a familiar pair of hands wrap around my neck

JUNGWON POV

“why do always leave us for your sister, can’t you play soccer with me first?” riki said

“No I haven’t seen my “sister” in 2 weeks I’m leaving, I’ll play later” I said

Yeah being a leader is hard especially of a skyscraper

And they she was the prettiest 4th gen idol in the world who happens to be my girlfriend

“Hello pretty” I said

“ Aah jungwon you’re here it’s been a while” yn said

I giggle it’s so cute when she gets excited

“What’s your excuse this time” she said while hugging me”

“Niki wouldn’t let me go, but I made it” I say holding her hands

“Shh just kiss me” she said

I did on what I was told I kissed her and I liked it as usual

“What’s that” I say pulling away

“Mhm must be some guy who fell” yn said

“Prolly” I say

I lean back into the kiss

NIKI POV

“Jungwon hyung always leaves us for his, I've never met someone who is that happy to meet their sister” I say to myself

“I’m still bored and every else sucks at soccer” I say

“I must follow jungwon hyung” I say

And is what I will do

As the normal buliding human being I am I just follow Jungwon’s car from behind.

“Ok we are here, took us long enough” I say to myself

“Ok that must be jungwon’s sister looking at the girl sitting to the table jungwon in behind” I say to myself

“She looks very different, she looks taller and a bit prettier, but not my type.” I say, still to myself

WAIT

WHY IS HE LEANING IN

ok just a hug phew, thought jungwon was going to kiss his sister

SPOKE TOO FAST

THEY’RE KISSING

THIS CANT BE RIGHT

JUNGWON IS KISSING HIS SISTER

must tell the other members

“GUYS JUNGWON JUST KISSED HIS SISTER!!!!” i text

shit I just fell

fuck they noticed

never mind they ignored it

I quickly take I picture and hit send

I sypnosis- yn, nmixx’s 8th member has been dating ENHYPEN leader jungwon, for almost a year. But the ENHYPEN members don’t know about their leader’s relationship. What happens when the curious makene catch’s yn and jungwon kissing?l