#i definitely took inspo for it from two different fics

[virgoilluminati]

Heyyyyyy,

Can I request a Jude imagine where you attend the match where he does his bicycle kick and you’re just so proud of him ? Established relationship

Thank You

The Final Frame

A/N: i remember watching jude scouring that against slovakia and screaming so loud in the pub it was sooo embarrassing 🙈 ✨Apologies this isn't my longest fic, but i lowkey really love it.

Inspo: You and Jude have been together for two years after you helped treat one of his teammates, as the local surgeon. Despite this, you have never been to a single one of his games, as you barely get time off. One day you decide to surprise him with tickets to the semi finals of the champions league and scores the best goal of his career.

The stadium was a cauldron of noise, filled with tens of thousands of passionate fans. The air buzzed with anticipation as Jude's team prepared for their critical Champions League match. The match had been marked on calendars across Europe, but it held a special place in the heart of one particular spectator.

As a surgeon, you had spent countless nights in the operating room, your hands saving lives and mending broken bodies. Your demanding career often kept you from attending Jude's matches, despite the years you'd spent together. But tonight was different. You had managed to clear your schedule, and for the first time, you found yourself in the stands, eager to witness your partner in his element.

You had kept your visit a secret, not wanting to add any pressure on Jude. His focus needed to be entirely on the game, not on the fact that his significant other was watching from the stands for the very first time. As the crowd roared and the players took their positions, you scanned the field, your eyes locking on Jude. His presence was commanding, his focus unwavering. This was where he belonged.

The stadium was a sea of colors, the team’s vibrant jerseys blending with the scarves and flags of the fans. The air was electric, charged with the energy of thousands of voices chanting and cheering. You took a deep breath, the scent of fresh-cut grass and the faint tang of sweat filling your senses. This was a world so different from the sterile, controlled environment of the hospital. Here, everything was raw and alive.

The game began with a blistering pace. You watched in awe as Jude moved across the field with grace and precision. Every pass he made was calculated, every movement purposeful. He was a maestro, orchestrating the flow of the game with a skill that left you breathless. It was one thing to hear about his prowess on the field, but to see it in person was something else entirely.

It was two years ago when you first met Jude. You had just finished a grueling 14-hour surgery and were grabbing a quick coffee in the hospital cafeteria. The cafeteria was nearly empty, the only sounds the hum of the vending machines and the distant chatter of nurses finishing their shifts. You were exhausted, your mind still buzzing from the intensity of the operation. You had just saved a life, but the weight of the responsibility always left you drained.

Jude had been there visiting a teammate who had injured himself during a match. He was sitting a few tables away, and you noticed his easy smile and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about football with his friend. Despite your weariness, you couldn't help but notice how his presence seemed to brighten the room.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" he had asked, holding his coffee.

"Sure," you replied, too exhausted to care about small talk.

He sat down, and for a moment, there was silence. Then he started talking, and you found yourself drawn into his world. He spoke about his passion for the game, his dreams, and his fears. You listened, fascinated by his dedication and drive.

"You must have a really interesting job," he said, glancing at your scrubs.

You smiled wryly. "It's definitely not boring. I'm a surgeon."

His eyes widened with genuine interest. "Wow, that's incredible. It must be so rewarding, saving lives every day."

You shrugged, a modest smile on your face. "It has its moments."

You exchanged numbers that day, thinking it would be nice to have a friend outside the hospital. What started as casual conversations soon blossomed into something more. Late-night phone calls, stolen moments of time together, and shared dreams brought you closer together.

Your heart raced with every near miss, your hands gripping the edge of your seat. The tension was palpable, each moment hanging in the balance. Jude was everywhere, intercepting passes, setting up plays, and directing his teammates. His passion and determination were evident in every stride he took.

As the match wore on, the score remained deadlocked. The stakes were sky-high, with both teams desperate to secure their place in the next round. Your nerves were frayed, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the field. In the final minute, with the game seemingly destined for a draw, Jude made his move.

You remembered the night before your biggest surgery yet. You had been a bundle of nerves, unable to sleep. The surgery was a complex procedure that would test every bit of your skill and knowledge. The clock read 2:00 AM, and despite the late hour, Jude had stayed up with you, talking through your fears and offering words of encouragement.

"You're going to be amazing," he had said, his voice steady and reassuring. "You always are."

"What if something goes wrong?" you had whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you.

He had taken your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting. "Then you'll handle it, just like you always do," he had replied. "You're one of the best surgeons in the country. You've got this."

He had then shared a story from his own life, a time when he had been under immense pressure. "It was my first big match with the national team," he said, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory. "I was so nervous I could barely think straight. But my coach pulled me aside and told me something that I've never forgotten. He said, 'Nerves are just a sign that you care. Use them to fuel your performance.' And I did. We won that match, and it was one of the best games of my career."

Those words had given you the strength you needed, the reminder that you were capable of overcoming any challenge. You had gone into that surgery the next day with a renewed sense of confidence, and everything had gone smoothly, just as Jude had predicted. Afterward, you had felt a sense of accomplishment that was indescribable, a feeling that Jude had helped you achieve.

A cross came in from the right, the ball arcing through the air towards the penalty box. Jude's eyes never left it. He leaped, his body twisting mid-air in a perfect bicycle kick. Time seemed to slow as his foot connected with the ball, sending it flying towards the goal. The stadium fell silent, the collective breath of thousands held in anticipation.

The ball sailed past the outstretched hands of the goalkeeper and into the net. For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, the stadium erupted. The noise was deafening, the joy palpable. Jude had done it. He had scored the winning goal, securing his team's place in the next round of the Champions League.

You leaped to your feet, your voice joining the chorus of celebration. Tears of pride and joy filled your eyes as you watched Jude being mobbed by his teammates. He looked up into the stands, his eyes searching, and for a brief moment, they found yours. You weren't sure if he recognized you amidst the sea of faces, but you hoped he felt your pride and love.

After the match, you made your way down to the players' area, your heart still pounding with excitement. The halls were a maze of concrete and metal, the noise from the stadium a distant roar. When Jude finally emerged, his face lit up with surprise and joy at the sight of you. He rushed over, sweeping you into his arms.

"You came," he breathed, his voice a mix of disbelief and happiness.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," you replied, holding him close. "You were incredible, Jude. I am so, so proud of you."

He smiled, his eyes shining with emotion. "It means everything to have you here. I can't believe you saw that goal."

You laughed, the sound filled with pure joy. "I've always known you were amazing, but seeing it in person... It's something else."

As you walked together towards the locker rooms, Jude turned to you, his face serious. "I know how hard it is for you to get time off. Thank you for being here. It really means a lot."

You squeezed his hand. "You deserve to have someone here for you. You've always been there for me, Jude. This was the least I could do."

[poppadom0912]

Hi, Would you make a Halstead!sister where she is a teen and have her very first boyfriend and when she decides to break up with him he hits her. She wants to hide it from her brothers but they found out anyway

Warnings: Abuse and violence, swearing, canon-typical injuries.

A/N: Okay, this fic will be the last one for a while and I mean it this time. Writing this was so random but I got sudden inspo when I found this half written soooo please do enjoy!!

You swear that this wasn't supposed to get as bad as it did.

You were still in high school and it might've been your first boyfriend and it definitely took too many tries to convince your brothers to give you permission to date but somehow, you got it in the end.

Several times, both Jay and Will but mainly Jay, warned you of abusive, manipulative and toxic partners which you knew existed but never thought you would date someone as such.

Joey was nice at first. After inviting him over for dinner a few times, your brothers began to be more lenient towards him though they would never admit it aloud.

Yes, they were still quite wary considering you were both still young and in school but over the course of a few months, you were finally allowed to go on a date alone without them acting as chaperones.

Then, it came to your break up.

During school, you and your best friend found Joey and another girl in your year locking lips against her locker without any shame at all. It was there and then you decided that evening you were going to break it off with him.

The two of you met up in the school car park where he would usually drive you home but unbeknownst to him, you had different plans for that today.

You hated how he was acting so nonchalant, the biggest smile on his face when he noticed you walking up to his car. You felt sick, desperately wanting to smack that smirk off his face.

"Y/N! Baby, I missed you at lunch. Where-" Joey started, opening his arms to embrace you but was cut off.

"Don't call me baby." You said sharply, your tone showing you were being completely serious. "We're done Joey."

Joey blinked, tilting his head to the side in confusion before laughing. "Oh Y/N, you're hilarious! Come on, we're going to my house-"

Once again, you cut him off, harshly shoving his hand off your elbow. "No, I'm being serious Joey. We're breaking up."

His face immediately fell at your words. All of a sudden, with the flip of a switch, he changed completely. It was so fast that it started scaring you.

Before allowing him to get a word in, you turned around so you could walk away and go home on your own but you were held back. A hand was suddenly tightly gripping your wrist, pulling you back towards Joey.

"What the hell!?" You exclaimed, trying to rip your hand out of his but he wouldn't budge.

"Joey, you're hurting me. Let go." You said, trying to reason with him but nothing was working.

You tried to calm him down, Jay's voice in the back of your mind explaining step by step what to do in cases like this but you found yourself frozen, unable to defend yourself alike to how you were taught.

It was all so sudden. One moment you were angrily staring up at Joey and the next you were looking to your left, your right cheek burning as it tingled with numbness.

Both of you were shocked at his actions. Using his shock to your advantage, you pulled your wrist out of his hand, ignoring the burning sensation you felt and ran.

*****

Unfortunately for you, it was a friday night and that meant both your older brothers were at home. Typically, on the weekends, you swapped and went to Will's before going back to Jay's for the weekdays. So that meant Will was at Jay's apartment to pick you up.

You were still breathing heavily as you entered the house, unintentionally slamming the front door shut as you came to your senses.

You were home. You were safe.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Jay shouted from the living room. He heard the door slam and was confused since he knew he specifically told you to never slam doors.

"Uh- yeah." You hesitated, licking your lips as you answered. "I'm, I'm good."

"You're red and sweaty- did you run all the way here?" Jay asked after a moment of studying you, taking note of your red cheeks and sweat collecting forehead.

"Yeah I did, I'm bursting for the toilet." You quickly thought of an excuse, lying about why you ran home.

Before he could reply, you dashed past him towards the bathroom to keep up with said lie.

"Hey Y/N-Oh..." Will words were lost as he watched you disappear as quick as he saw you.

"What's up with her?" Will asked, looking confusingly at Jay and down the hall where you disappeared.

"I'm not sure."

****

Joey went back to disturbing you as soon as monday came. The weekend seemingly getting on his nerves because he was buzzing monday morning to the point that you turned back around whenever you saw him.

But you could only run so far from him because at the end of the day as you waited for your best friend, he was grabbing you way too hard.

This process only repeated itself for the next two weeks, becoming almost routine where you only missed him for two days overall.

Three weeks since he first laid hands on you, you were now covered in an amalgamation of redness, bruises and finger-shaped marks.

Today though, today something changed.

It was friday, nearly a month since you broke up with Joey and you were walking to Med. Will was supposed to pick you up but his latest patient was causing problems and asked for you to walk to the hospital only ten minutes away.

So you and one of your friends who lived near that area walked together, departing as you reached the ED doors and she walked home.

As you waved her off, your smile bright and hurting still from how much both of you were laughing, you weren't paying too much attention to your surroundings. You didn't think there would be much danger outside a guarded ED but alas.

One second your waving your friend off and the next, your on your hands and knees on the floor. It happened so fast you couldn't comprehend what even occurred.

"What the-"

Someone harshly pulling you up stopped your trail of thought, their grip so tight that you couldn't focus on the burning in your palms and knees.

"Joey! Let me go you dickhead!" You shouted at the boy as soon as you looked up at the perpetrator.

Pulling your wrists from grasp, you grunted when his grip didn't let up, instead it did the opposite and tightened to the point that your hand was starting to go pale.

"Please Joey- Please just let me go and we can talk this out, I promise." You pleaded with him, eyes going glassy when he started pulling you away from the hospital entrance, panic finally setting in.

You tried pulling yourself away, heels digging into the ground to stop him but he was too strong, his height and build giving him an advantage along with being on the football team while you barely even participated in gym.

"Joey your hurting me-" You were cut off when he shoved you up against the wall head first and then repeatedly shoved your head back when you kept talking.

"Shut up bitch!" He almost screeched, hand on your forehead to prevent your head from moving, ensuring your eyes remained on him.

Your vision blurred, head banging with what felt like the worst headache in the universe. Your reply was simply a whine, no words possible due to the pain he inflicted.

His elbow was digging into your torso, your lungs and ribs restricted from any movement because of the pressure.

"J-Jo..." Everything of his increased, his grip, his shouts, the pain he caused.

Your breathing was taken away from you when he suddenly brought his fist to your torso repeatedly.

All of a sudden, he disappeared and you were falling, your legs unable to support you.

Before you could meet the ground, you were caught and being hauled into an embrace you hadn't felt in a decade. The familiar cologne one you bought with your own pocket money and a voice you'd known since birth.

"I've got you Y/N." Will whispered to you, cradling you gently in his arms.

"Ethan, you got him?" Will called out to his colleague but you were so out of it you couldn't see the other doctor.

"I'll handle him, get her inside." Ethan replied as he restrained Joey, his past military training helping him plenty.

The last thing you remembered was Will's reassuring words before everything went black.

*****

"We have to wait for her to wake up to determine how bad the concussion is but besides that, she's okay." Will finished explaining to Jay the prognosis who arrived five minutes ago.

"She's also got old bruises." Jay finally looked up from your face to Will's, anguish clear on the latter's face. "This has been going on for a while now."

Jay was speechless.

He was at a crime scene when Will called him, something neither brother did when they knew the other was at work and despite trying to anticipate what was going to happen, he could never guess it would be this.

Will explained that he and Ethan were taking a quick breather outside together after the death of their last patient when they heard a man shouting and though they couldn't see you, Will easily recognised Joey.

While Ethan subdued Joey, Will wasted no time in getting you to safety and inside the ED where Connor treated you.

There would be no long lasting effects from any of the injuries but they were bound to stick around for a while and they would definitely hurt.

Will couldn't get it out of his memory - seeing your ex boyfriend continuously punching you with no remorse and almost strangling you with the death grip he had. Will saw it every time he blinked and felt like puking.

Jay had walked passed Joey when he entered the ED and to say he felt like throttling the boy was putting it very, very lightly.

But Jay had plans for little Joey, he was more than confident that Voight would let him have a few words with him later. Especially if it involved you - his boss seemed to have a weak spot whenever you were involved, everyone did.

"I need to find Goodwin and get off shift early, I'll be back." Will said. Maggie could only do so much for so long.

Jay hummed. "I've got her, she's not going anywhere don't worry."

Will hadn't been gone for long when you started coming back to. Jay was messaging Hailey, asking for updates on what they were doing with Joey when he felt your fingers twitch in his other available hand.

Jay waited patiently, forcing himself to let you take your time and not rush you just in case. Will mentioned a concussion that they weren't too sure on the extent on its damage.

Your whimpers had his heart in your control, a lump in his throat at you clearly in pain and his inability to cure and rid of all your ills.

Seeing your eyes, the colour so bright under the hospital lights and because of the fear you felt so vividly, Jay found himself unable to breath for a moment.

"Is he gone?" You whispered, voice hoarse as you squinted up at your older brother.

"Yes he is." Jay nodded, ignoring the burning that randomly enveloped his eyes and brushed your hair back with such a feather light touch that you didn't register the gesture. "He's never going to touch or bother you ever again, I promise."

The only response you could formulate was tears, the waterworks instant as soon as the words came out of Jay's mouth.

"Will and I will make sure nothing happens ever again, we promise."

[smutinlove]

goodbye i love ur fanfics sm. (specifically carls ofc)

i just live for ur angst fics yk??

sensitive reader pls but she kinda a badass

reader goes insane for some reason,

rick,glenn, carl notice that she hasnt been sleeping/eating/drinking.

she would stay up every night watching the window.

to the point they would have to force her down and eat,

it turns out carl wasnt even talking to her but instead hanging out with his friends (ron and mikey)

small mindset inspo for reader(eversince they arrived at alexandria reader and carl didnt spend time 2gether)

she has no1 to talk to so yeah... u choose the ending ofc!

They say change is good, but sometimes change can fuck up your life. That's what happened to you.

Every day went by with you staring out the window, day and night. Your head was filled with a million different thoughts. Thoughts you wouldn't utter a word about to anyone. Why?

Nobody really noticed you anymore. Out in the wild, before Alexandria, you were a valued member of the group. You and Carl were practically besties (and more) You and Glenn had also had a fun time talking to each other.

He was like a father to you.

But now... you didn't really have anyone.

Everyone was doing their own thing, and you just sat near the window every day—barely sleeping and eating.

Was anyone even worried? Probably not. Why? They didn't notice you. You were a shadow that everyone was ahead of.

"Y/N."

It was another lonely and gloomy evening. An evening full of you staring outside the window—observing the weather... and maybe the citizens of Alexandria. (If they even left their homes. Cowards...)

"Hey!"

You were numb, tired—pissed. No one. You had no one, right?

"Listen to me!"

"Relax—"

You opened the window, letting some fresh air in. It was a soft embrace on a glum Saturday evening.

"Fuck!"

"Carl! Glenn!"

You felt a strong shake. Was the world tilting? No. But you definitely were.

You saw two worried faces staring down at you. One shook your shoulders while the other yelled your name. "Y/N, are you listening?"

Such a soft voice. So soothing. The tone made you melt.

But reality struck and it was painful. There were people talking to you while you remained unresponsive.

"Perhaps she has gone mental!"

"Carl!" Rick scolded.

"Huh?" You finally managed to utter. Your voice was rough and hoarse from not speaking. It hurt.

"She speaks!" Carl chimed. "Not funny, Grimes boy," said Glenn.

"Carl?"

The blue-eyed boy beamed. "Welcome back, love." Carl said, a small smirk falling in to place on his face.

Rick left and came back into the room, holding a plate of eggs and bread. He also had a glass of juice. He placed both things in front of you. "Eat, Y/N. Please."

You couldn't. It... was strange. You just couldn't. But you had to. You should. And you would. And... you could.

Your hand trembled as you reached for the piece of bread on the plate. You also noticed the smiles on Rick and Glenns' faces. But Carl was glaring at the now closed window.

What was he staring at? Mickey and Ron. The two were talking and laughing outside. While he was stuck with you. It wasn't a bad thing that he was stuck with you. No. Never.

"Have you been sleeping?" Glenn asked, noticing your eyebags. You bite into the piece of bread, slowly swallowing and chewing it. You were tempted to lie, but that wouldn't solve anything. "No."

"Why?" Rick asked. "Talk to us. But you don't need to."

"Can... can I talk to Carl?" You asked. "Just Carl."

The two older men gave each other looks before nodding and leaving the room.

"What's up?" Carl asked nonchalantly. You gulped. "What's up with you, Carl?" His name came out as almost a scowl.

"What?" He tilted his head.

You stopped eating and took a sip of juice. "Carl," you felt hesitant. But you needed to. For answers. "Carl, we don't hang out! We haven't talked properly since we arrived here at Alexandria!"

"I... I thought you wanted a life, Y/N. Even if it isn't like before."

You huffed. "Carl, I wanted you! You're my best friend. Fuck! But no! All you have done for the past few weeks is hang out with Mikey and Ron, forgetting about me!"

Carl looked taken aback. "Y/N, please—"

"—No! No more. Get out!"

"Y/N, no. I won't."

"Get the fuck 'outta my room, Grimes!" You yelled with the force of a thunder storm. He nodded and made his way for the door when he turned around and said, "I'll be here. I'll... wait. And I'm sorry."

He left and suddenly the world just became louder. The peace that was once there had been evaporated.

Is it over now?

Maybe not. Maybe it is.

───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

Okay you sorry fucks! BEG ME to release a part 2 of this. BEG ME. GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES! grrr

anyway i love angst

also this is like such a cool moment for me. i just published two carl grimes fanfics in the span of two hours. im so hip and cool

[harrytheehottie]

ALWAYS & FOREVER: A HARRY STYLES ONE SHOT

A/N: This is a part of The Sweet & Spicy Fic Challenge 💘 shoutout to @harry-on-broadway @hslllot & @harrysblackcoat for all the inspo.

rated: m 💘 word count: 3.3k 💘 masterlist 💘 tell me your thoughts 💘

You met on a night out. It was classic, really, your friends begged you to go out and after much negotiation and begging you said yes. And that was the night you met the love of your life.

Although, the two of you remember the story differently. You swear he approached you and so do all of your friends but he stands firm in his theory that you were constantly making eyes at him and he had no choice but to see what you were on about. And his story still proves yours right because he was the first person to walk over to you. 

You flirted, danced and had way too many shots. You quickly found out that night that he was affectionate and touchy after a free drink. His body clinging onto yours and telling you just how cool he thought you were, you teased him for months about it asking if that was his signature chat up line. He swears it wasn’t. 

You went on a few dates most of them occurred during the day time, a walk around the park when you were on lunch, a 4pm coffee on the days you’d leave the office early. You never ran out of things to talk about he’d let you listen to demos but only through shared airpods and pinky promises that you wouldn’t tell anyone, not even your closest friends. You’d tell him about your work drama and he’d always tell you where you were on the right, even if you knew you weren’t. 

It wasn’t easy, you had to navigate his demanding career and merge your lives. You dreaded the months away and savored those moments on the side stage when he’d look over just before he walked to the microphone and you’d cheer him on like it was your first time. The moments you had with just the two of you - no cameras, no second guessing where you should stand or look, just you and Harry the way it was always meant to be. 

He asked you to marry him on a walk through the Heath. He spent the entire walk fiddling with his jacket pocket and talking about how much he loves you and what your relationship meant to him. He just came back from another row of sold out shows and had a preselected two weeks off before he was on the road again. You thought he was just being his sappy self until he stopped walking and got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. 

You cried and cried and said yes and cried some more. You spent those two weeks wrapped around each other and definitely broke the world record for how many times two people can say ‘fiance’. You had your ceremony six months later — you didn’t need to waste time planning. It was in Harry’s mom’s backyard, an intimate ceremony with all your friends and family. 

A month after you got back from your honeymoon you realized you missed your period. You thought there was no way it could’ve happened that quickly — you’d only been off the pill for a few months. You went upstairs and took one of your tests you knew you had in the bathroom. Harry was on one of his morning swims and you knew you had a limited window of time before he came back. You took the test and waited patiently as you waited for the longest two minutes of your life to pass by. 

There it was. 

Pregnant. 

You were overwhelmed with joy, doubts, anxieties. The next two years of you and Harry’s life had been planned for you already; tours, albums, award shows, photoshoots. And now, you are going to have to plan a baby around it. You wanted this more than anything but you were in pure disbelief that it was real. And after what felt like an hour of double checking that you weren’t reading the results wrong and rummaging through the downstairs drawers to find a second and third pregnancy test. 

You dreamed of this moment, starting a family with the love of your life. It felt so far away for so long, right before you met Harry you were certain it would never happen the way you imagined. And here you were at this moment, married to the best man you knew and about to start a family. 

You were going to throw up. 

You let yourself take the moment in, checking your phone to make sure that Harry wasn’t on his way back yet. You took the first pregnancy test and washed it before heading down to your storage room. 

One of your first trips after your engagement was in New York City. It was one of your favorite places to go with Harry because of the connection he had to the city and the friends he introduced you to along the way. It was also one of the few places that you and Harry could walk around and blend in. You were in one of those cute knick knacks shops in the Lower East Side just browsing when Harry picked up a baby onesies that had a taxi embroidered on the front with ‘NYC’ in black underneath it. 

“Do you have something to tell me?” You asked when you noticed him picking it up and putting it down. 

Harry laughed, “No, just think” he paused thinking through his words before speaking again, “would it be nice to get a present as a way of manifesting?” 

“You want a baby with me?” You teased knowing that it was something you discussed at length, many times. Your mutual desire for children when it felt right. And the fact that it was something that was already on his mind confirming that you made the right decision. 

“I always knew you were the one. Just had to work extra hard and make you realize the same for me.” Harry closed the space between you, stealing a quick kiss on the lips before grabbing the onesies and heading towards the checkout counter.

“Oh, so I was right - you were the one that approached me that night.” You said as you followed quickly behind him. He smiled big, the kind that always made you melt, where you could see all his teeth and his eyes crinkled up and his lips disappeared.

“Touche.” he replied with a wink. 

You found the onesies in your storage and quickly ran around trying to find a gift box to present it in. You checked the time, it had been an hour and a half since Harry left for swimming meaning he would be home anytime soon. You found a box, placed the onesie in it and on top of that the positive pregnancy test. 

You were buzzing with excitement and nerves waiting for him to walk through the door. You paced all around the house trying to take your mind off it and when you heard the ring of the security system letting you know someone had just put in the code and saw Harry in his hoodie and sweatpants make their way to the front door you were filled with nerves. 

You knew he would be excited and overjoyed but you knew once he knew, your lives would truly be changed forever. He walked through the front door greeting you with a hug and a kiss. You tried to make small talk, and asked him how his swim was. 

“Somethings wrong,” Harry immediately picked up on your weird nervous energy “you seem.. off.” He said examining you from head to toe as you stood in front of him. He knew you too well. 

“I got you a gift and was just waiting for the perfect time to give it to you” you nervously said walking over to the box that you left on the kitchen table. You wanted to keep the memory of this moment forever, the moments before you knew his life would truly change forever. It wasn’t album sales, music awards, accolades that you thought would be the best moments of his life but this one would truly. 

You handed him the box. He looked up at you, the same face he made in that pub way back when. His brows quirked up in wonder, his forest green eyes meeting yours, his mouth melting into up in a soft smile. You watched closely as he slowly opened the box, his hands were ring free, minus the wedding band - you still got butterflies looking at.

His eyes scanned the materials inside once, twice , and three times over. You watched as he studied the items slowly raising his head to look up at you, “What? Is this real?” He spoke, you could see the tears forming in his eyes.

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, took three tests to prove it.” 

You closed the gap between the two of you, your lips crashing into one another the love you had moving through your bodies. You wanted to be as close to him as possible. Harry moved his hands from your back to your legs and hoisted you up on the kitchen island. His mouth moving from your lips down to your neck to your collarbones. He moved back and lifted up your shirt. 

You watched as Harry began kissing your stomach whispering lowly, “Our baby is in there.” as he left kiss after kiss after kiss. You wanted to wrap this moment up and keep it forever. The two of you, the only ones in the world that knew you were expecting and going into this new season of life together. 

You told your families first. Buying every ‘Worlds Best Grandma’ and ‘World Best Aunt and Uncle’ shirt you could find. Everyone’s excitement for the two of you makes everything more real. You were most nervous for Harry to tell Jeff -- he was his best friend but also his manager and you knew the second he told him after the excitement and celebration, you’d have to be looped into conversations about how or what Harry was willing to share.

“I told him that I didn’t want to tell anyone that doesn’t have to know. No exclusives, no confirming or denying stories. I don’t want anyone involved in this that doesn’t have to be.”

“Do you think it would be easier if it was on our terms?” You asked, “Rather than a rumor that gets reported on by others?” 

“No. It’s ours.” Harry’s was speaking fast and direct something he did when he was serious, “I’ve shared so much of my life when I didn’t want to, I shared you for fuck’s sake. I don’t want to share this -- I don’t want anyone in this that doesn’t have to be.”

You were two years into your relationship before people online began to catch on. You blended into his crew of people. It wasn’t until a picture of you at his family Christmas made its way online - a phone call from Jeff made the two of you aware. Harry remained calm letting Jeff know that he still didn’t want your name anywhere but if any media outlets reached out just to say he was happy. It didn’t stop anyone from digging and finding out as much as they could about you but it didn’t matter because both Harry and you knew that this was it. 

Harry held your hands in his, “I’ll protect you,” you looked at your belly and then back up at you, “and you with everything I can. I love you so much and just want to keep this to us. We can let the people talk and speculate and wonder but it’s our family and our story to tell. I wish I didn’t have to deal with all of these logistics but”

You cut him off, “Harry, I love you baby and I understand. The way you go above and beyond to protect everyone around you doesn't go unnoticed. This is the one thing that we can keep as ours.” 

And you did. You lived your life as normal, went to his shows and supported him through his career concealing your bump through skirts and dresses. Your pregnancy went by quickly, one day you were barely showing and the next you were already planning your baby shower and then you were in the hospital in labor with Harry by your side and after 16 hours of labor your bundle of joy was in your arms. 

You never felt love like that before. It was indescribable holding the human that you helped create, learning how to breastfeed, change diapers and navigate this new chapter in your lives. Watching Harry as he stayed up late reading and researching on all the milestones that you should be looking out for. You’d catch him singing ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ as a way to make her fall asleep and it always melted you 

Your life was built on routine. 

You wake up at the same time everyday to give yourself some uninterrupted time in the morning. You brush your teeth, do your skincare before heading downstairs to get the day started. You clean up the kitchen and tidy up the living room but mostly, your favorite part of your morning was your cup of coffee. You make the same cup of black coffee, almond milk and two sugars and leisurely scroll through your phone basking in the silence and solitude that you felt in the early morning hours before being interrupted by anyone else. 

Some days you’d have longer mornings than others but when you’d hear your monitor begin making sounds you make your way back upstairs to your nursery. 

Motherhood was something you always wanted for yourself but there came a point in time where you weren’t sure it would happen in the traditional sense. Relationships were tough and you had your fair share of negative experiences. It would always be good at first, the honeymoon stage clouding all of your judgments until it was a year and a half in and you realized you were hitting a wall. You got to the point where you were content with continuing life without a partner - looking back, it’s funny that the moments where you’re giving up is when the right people come into your life. 

Today was different. 

You woke up to the sounds of Harry in the kitchen. He was singing along to his playlist as he made you breakfast. Your daughter was a little older now and was spending the night at your mom’s house so you and Harry could have uninterrupted time together. It was few and far between these days with work schedules, daycare and playdates. Harry was currently working on his next studio album and moved all production to be closer to your family so he would no longer need to be traveling back and forth from the US to London. 

“No, no, no, you were supposed to stay upstairs I had it all planned out,” Harry was playfully shouting as you made your way down the steps and into the kitchen. He was wearing a matching set of pajamas. The top was completely unbuttoned; the butterfly on his chest still had a market left on it from when your daughter was using him as her personal coloring book. 

He had everything laid out on the table; eggs, hash browns, waffles and was currently putting together a fruit bowl to finish it off. 

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me?” You said as you walked over and gave him a kiss.

He stopped what he was doing and pulled you in closer for me, “S’why I’m doing it,” he met your lips one more time before whispering “for you.” 

Your mouths clashing again as you melted into each other slowly taking your time, there was no toddler that you had to worry about walking in or waking up, it was just the two of you. You moved your hands up his chest and pulled the rest of his pajamas top off making what you wanted known. He quickly followed your lead helping you out of your pajamas of choice, one of his old touring shirts.

“The food is going to get cold,” Harry mumbled between kisses as your hands moved down the waist of his pants to get them off of him fast.

“Don’t care, need this” You began kissing up his neck licking and sucking the spots that you knew drove him crazy, down his jawline and below his ears. 

His hands were moving from your breasts to where you wanted him most. You were always ready for him after years of being together he still turned you on like it was the first time. “S’fuckin wet for me,” he whispered under his breath the anticipation sending goosebumps through your entire body. Harry used his finger to start moving circles around your clit. You had your hands squeezing at Harry’s shoulders before taking your own right hand to stroke his dick through his pants. You felt like two teenagers that were feeling, touching, exploring as much of each other as you could with some of your clothes still on. 

The fire inside you was ignited when Harry dipped his finger into your center, arching up and hitting you immediately where you needed him most. Slowly a second and third followed and your moans filled the kitchen as the sweet sounds of his playlist, “Harry,” you moaned encouraging him to keep going as you haphazardly tried to please him as well. He pauses for a second, fingers still deep inside you and says, “S About you now, don’t worry about me, just want to make you feel good” his voice deep and low giving you the permission to enjoy yourself for once before worrying about others around you first. You kissed him again as he continued to pump his fingers instead of you, your hips begin matching his movements and you can feel yourself getting the heat inside you intensifying as you squeeze your eyes shut. You felt like your body was on fire as the sweet sounds of his fingers against you and the playlist he loves the most and his whispers in encouragement brought you to an orgasm. 

You slowly began to catch your breath and watched as Harry put all three fingers in his mouth, one by one, tasting every bit of you, a dopey grin on his face whispering “Never gets old,” as he closed the space between you. 

You spent the rest of your day like that eating and having sex and wrapping yourself in each other as much as you could. You were grateful for your life and your husband who always put you and your family first. 

And when you got into bed that night, Harry asked you for permission to do something he never did before. You thought long and hard about it and you felt like it was the right moment. You watched as he scrolled through his camera roll trying to find the best image before landing on one you took. It was of him and your daughter at your favorite overlook in Malibu. It was a place you spent a lot of your time with your family allowing for the privacy that Los Angeles proper didn’t. You remember that afternoon clearly, she was tired and cranky but you had just got there for the sunset and Harry had her asleep on his shoulder in minutes. You snapped a photo as the blue sky was slowly turning orange. 

Harry looked over his shoulder at you before hitting ‘post’ you gave him a nod just as he hit it. A picture of Harry and your daughter with the caption “Isn’t she lovely, made from love.” 

Now, the whole world knew and it was on your terms. 

[wrongcaitlyn]

Do you have any fame aus or anything else that inspired you for the dear reader series?

no fame au's, unfortunately :( i am a BIG fan of fame au's, however, so i do have some recs! but the inspiration for dear reader was largely just me listening to my music and forming an au around it - one playlist turned into two, which turned into seven, which turned into 16, etc - and then i had a full au plot in my head😭

but for recs!! i bookmark pretty much every fame au i read just because i love them so much. they're definitely my niche i just cannot stop putting these people on red carpets - and it's always been this waySDKJF

you'd be paranoid too (if everyone was out to get you) by harrowhark is a catradora fame au (popstar!catra) and it was one of the first fics i ever read on ao3 and literally changed my brain chemistry. now this was like 3-4 years ago, so it's been a while since i've read it, even though when i was in my shera hyperfixation i re-read it like six times i think - if you ARE a shera fan, i would 100% recommend this one, i still remember how incredible it was! did it inspire the dear reader-verse specifically? no, they're very different in terms of plot/characters, but i feel like if i'm talking about fics that inspired me this one's essential😭

everyone wake up new jinx album just dropped by Drindrak is similar to the first one in that it is a fame au that just made me love the trope so much, even though it is much more crack than angst, unlike you'd be paranoid😭it's an arcane fic where jinx... becomes a popstar? except it's like, set in runeterra and vi is still in jail and all of that. like. I DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH I FUCKING LOVE ITSKDF i swear i just love a good crack fic every now and then, and this did it WITH fame?? i love. and so yeah, looking back on it, i actually do think it inspired dear reader a bit in the way that jinx was absolutely chaotic (will i ever stop on the jinx nico parallels? i wrote a goddamn solangelo timebomb au already but i'm still going to be pointing it out)

he was seen on occasion (pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea) by stargirltv is a solangelo fame au!! and i know that i already rec'd it. but like. you have to know how much i LOVE this fic and though, once again, the plots are pretty different - but also similar in the sense of the character dynamics! so yeah tbh i'd say i probably did, unintentionally, take a lot of inspo from this, just because i do love it so much, and it was one of the only fame au's for solangelo that i had read (i've read much more now, ofc, seeing as i stalk the fame and social media tags like a hawk)

and then the last thing i feel like i have to mention when talking about the inspiration for this fic is the book, red white and royal blue. i think i mentioned in the first chapter of talk your talk's end note that this entire au?? started off as a rwrb crossover in my head. nico's age was calculated with alex's in mind. will going to college at nyu was because i originally planned for alex and him to idk meet at a class or smth. cecil was originally a law student (another ironic thing for a child of hermes, and yet i ended up making him work towards cyber security lmfao) just so he could somehow become friends with alex. i was fully emerged in this universe where somehow these friend groups collided, and i fully orchestrated nico as a popstar just so that they'd have double the fandoms to go crazy about it. so does it really have to do anything with rwrb in terms of plot?? no, but alex and henry are entirely to thank for this!!!😭

i know that i kind of took a bit of a strange route for a popstar au in talk your talk so it doesn't really match the usual trope? like person is already famous -> meets someone, either famous or not -> fight to get together bc of the press -> some sort of leaked photo of them -> they choose each other in the end. and dont get me wrong, i will eat up that trope any day, but i do really like what i did with talk your talk! i love any form of fame au, and so it's always just fun to see different spins on the common tropes :)

thank you for the ask!!

[lume-nosity]

coldest front, warmest heart

violet evergarden!gn!reader x xiao

an: i’ve been brainrotting about this idea for quite some time. violet and xiao should meet, because they are literally the same but in different fonts. if only that can be a reality,, on another note, the song inspo can be used as background music to read this because i had fun listening to it while writing this. AND AFTER ALL THIS TIME I FINALLY FINISHED THIS IDEA!! ONE W FOR ME AND ONE L FOR PROCRASTINATION (and if this flops then that’s two L’s for me)

style: fluff

song inspo: never coming back (violet evergarden ost)

notes: gender neutral reader, kinda rushed because tumblr was mean to me, comfort fic basically, spoilers for violet evergarden & possibly the liyue archon quest, implemented self-care reminders, not proofread, reader is blue while xiao is green, can be perceived as romantic or platonic, weirdly formatted/written probably because i haven’t written in a bit, written in semi-hc form, mentions of war (both violet + xiao), ooc violet possibly because it’s been 2-3 years last time i’ve watched it, takes place after xiao’s latest appearance

reblogs are appreciated!

[name] and xiao talk about their times during war. they both fought for something, and would most likely be open about their experiences since they have something in common (but it took a long time for xiao to be open about it though)

and the idea of [name] losing major gilbert during the struggle and xiao being saved by morax (or rex lapis?? idk i’ll refer to him as morax) are contrasting opposites of what of who they lost but they’re both one in the same.

xiao comforting [name] because of that… oh, and he also talked about them making a contract with morax just so they can defend liyue together,,, that’d be nice. oh yes and [name] was down no questions asked, you know it.

they don’t know much about love either. (wow what a surprise) because one time [name] asked him: ‘sir xiao, what is love?’ (baby don’t hurt me) and he’s like: ‘why are you asking me that?’

…...

he looked away from them, crossed his arms, and went: ‘i don’t have enough knowledge in that area to answer your question.’

‘….and don’t address me that way. just call me xiao.’

[name] being overly obedient & hardworking does perplex xiao, especially with their military etiquette. (the saluting thing and all that) there’s even times where he had to tell [name] to stop saluting to him, morax, and everyone else they meet. he thinks it’s unnecessary to do it. (he’s even a little embarrassed too)

as much as xiao works hard to defend liyue’s borders, he thinks [name] is pushing it. because he saw just how determined they are that they don’t stop to take a breather or a break. so he confronted them about it.

‘don’t you think you’re overexerting yourself to the brink of exhaustion?’

‘oh, it’s not a problem.’ no, it’s most definitely a problem. in secret, xiao was completing whatever tasks [name] had to do.

once [name] found out they didn’t have anything to do, they were quite confused. so then they had to go up to xiao and ask if there’s anything they have to do. well, xiao took this opportunity to tell them an ‘order.’ (an order of taking care one’s well-being that is)

‘rest for the day.’ pretty straightforward, but [name] seemed to do it without arguing. because it sounded like an order to them.

xiao offered to share his almond tofu to them but as expected, [name] is stubborn and waved their hand dismissively. but xiao’s not having it.

‘you must eat. mortals need to consume nutrients in order to strengthen their energy.’

he pushed his dish towards [name] ‘and you need this more than me.’

[name] was unfazed, but they perceived his words as an order. so they took the plate and started eating. no words were said after that.

okay tumblr is being rude to me so i’m going to write one last scenario here to finish this with a bang.

[name] leaning against the balcony of wangshu inn with xiao, staring off into the horizon, and letting the wind flow through their bodies in complete silence.

it was a comfortable silence, but xiao decided to break the silence. ‘…[name]? may i speak with you for a moment?’

[name] immediately pushed themself off of the railing and turned to face xiao.

‘yes, what seems to be the problem-‘

xiao hugged [name]. (yes, yes he did.) he may dislike physical contact and would prefer to not get himself involved with such a thing, but considering the hard work [name] had done he was sure they might need something like this. even if it’s out of his comfort zone.

‘for a mortal as persistent and obedient as yourself, you should be more attentive to your own needs.’

[name] didn’t return the hug, as they were slowly processing the sudden action. but xiao continued to speak.

‘i understand how… resolute, you are, with any and every order that comes to your attention. however..’

xiao tightened the hug a little, but not enough to hurt them.

‘you have to come to terms with having the freedom to decide for yourself. as well as taking frequent breaks should you need them. to see you work so hard without anything in return.. i despise it greatly. i was once told these words by morax when i was like you, so it’d be appropriate for me to send his words to you as well.’

[name] stayed silent, but they’re still listening to each and every word that comes out of xiao’s mouth. it seems as if they couldn’t find the right words to respond, rather, they’re fine with listening. instead of denying xiao, they stayed put and listened.

‘..so do me a favor to take these words into account, okay?’

[name] is still silent, but they slowly moved their arms to wrap themselves around xiao to return the hug. it may have surprised xiao a little, but not to the point he was visibly taken aback. because of this gesture, he gently rubbed circles around their back.

‘…i will, thank you.’

[dangopango00]

COLLEGE BAND AU HEADCANONS

Legato x gn reader

It was pretty rude of me to just randomly put an au fic without explanation so heres the explanation bye still self indulgent; always will be i fear

more utc

- OK FIRST ABOUT HIM. He works for knives still but in this au his job is to cause vash suffering by 😭😭… outselling him??? Ridonkulous ik but go with it

- Knives wants him to outsell vash so vash realizes that art and human creativity is obsolete and instead help him run his tech/AI company that also focuses on helping global warming (humans suck they should die. robots go!)

- Hes apart of a band to rival Vash’s and ofc its the Gung Ho Guns; he hired them to play for him

- Tbh i think their genre isnt set in stone bc theyre purely doing this to outsell vash so I think theyd keep the core of it rock or indie but it has a lot of shifting gears, doing wtv gets the most traction

- Legato is the bassist but he knows keyboard if their keyboardist is absent

- I think legato writes most of the songs himself (to impress knives ofc this is still HIS mission afterall) and gets a lil sad and defensive if it flops LMFAO even if its just his first album; considering how Knives talked down on music Legato thought it’d be somewhat easy

- It DEFINITELY took him a while to write things that had some semblance of humanity in it tbh he had to have either another less emotionally stunted member write it or a ghost writer but he did still practice writing in his spare time since he had nothing better to do

- NOW ABOUT YALL. Ur roommates in a college dorm; if it were up to him he’d have an apartment but knives wanted him to keep an eye on vash and vash lives on campus

- He only has like one or two official rules as roommates but if ur pissing him off with sth thats not on the list he WILL let u lnow LOL

- The only rules established off rip are:

1. MYOB

2. Do not touch him (no tolerance rule if u touch him without permission he WILL be out of there asap even if its a lot of trouble and will probably even idk push u or sth ignore u forever, hope and pray on ur downfall idk its hard to translate his violent tendencies to modern society without getting him arrested ok)

- You often eat together when he isnt busy tbh usually in silence but its ok its comfortable silence (to him at least)

- Ok im gonna try to say this in the least creepy way possible but like. He likes to observe you for inspiration HEAR ME OUT. Just seeing u go about ur day and since hes always in first person POV seeing someone else just… live gives him immense inspiration on what to write

- He also gets inspo from other artists and heres where u come in hehe. You are a solo artist who doesn’t show your face and your speaking voice is pretty much completely different from ur singing voice (Not like insanely different but if you heard the two separately you wouldnt really connect the dots unless ur one of those people who connect voices easily + depending on ur genre u could be using a completely different tone of voice than usual)

- Your genre is a little similar to Legato’s in the fact that although you keep your core component (Love theme IMO but hey i dont make the rules yes i doo) you change around the other moving parts such as the instruments or wtv so he listens to your music often though he never really thought it would be you; just never really thought about the possibility

- Im not gonna say hes like obsessed with your artist persona or anything but he does (as much as he would rather khs than admit it since according to Knives music is the bane of this world) greatly enjoy your music and often finds himself getting your songs stuck in his head

- Hes def a gatekeeper i mean this is the guy who can name every song in ur discography (Not saying much though since you dont post too often)

- ANYWAY u have no idea this is going on since hes prone to just listening to music in his headphones rather than showing you or blasting it for the world to hear so ur relationship is developing as normal roommates

- You often get him stuff from the college snack shack and in return he often gives u whatever he doesnt want from the dining hall (that sounds crappy but its usually good stuff like ur fave fruit or cheese and crackers or sth)

- After u become a bit closer going on trips together becomes common not like vacation but like a little drive to a department store or him taking you with him to practice/performances

- SPEAKING OF PRACTICE U work part time at a coffee shop and it has a practice room which is where he usually brings his band it sounds random but I’ve encountered a coffee place like this before ok

- Killing two birds with one stone, he gets to see you on his way in and out and he gets a quiet place to practice + Vash often brings his band here too so ig killing two birds and one afterthought with one stone

- Other GHGs (NOT greenhouse gasses. Gung ho guns) think that ur another one of his groupies probably 💀 he def has tons i fear

- He def writes songs about you or rather than about you, references how u make him feel but he is in denial and thinks feelings are embarrassing so hes just like no they just gave me inspiration

- Its ok though the only one he has to justify himself to is himself bc hes like. The only one who knows its about u since his songs are never rlly about romance and in the rare cases that they are its very subtle

- When, if ever, he feels ready for touch he frames it like hes doing u a favor lmao “I will allow you to (blank)” he is tbh

Random Misc:

- Hes majoring in Ecology or Conservation Biology prob minoring in sth like computer science (his entire life surrounds Knives what did u expect)

- Sleeps in his daytime clothes and ur always like ???? Esp bc he wears jeans often… U two went to the department store one time and u convinced him to let u buy him pajamas so he could wash the day clothes overnight

- Hes a big ass fan of vinyls and cds and just physical ways of owning things like music or games but wont admit to himself he likes it its just for the aesthetic ok even though he has a record and cd player

- Wants to cut ur hair and feels like its one of the most intimate things u could do without having to touch too much (forever subscribed to knives cut his hair hc)

- If u have a lot of accessories and generally just a lot of stuff he gets annoyed if it isnt properly organized and will organize it for u wnv hes having writers block

- If ur an artist he has u make his merch designs n stuff 😍😍 he pays very generously he rlly dgaf abt money tbh + Knives sponsoring him

A/N: irrelevant but idk whether to imagine him as tristamp or trigun design like both are so good but Ok im done yapping ty

[tinycryptid18]

i've been bingeing steddie fics and i came up with an idea for one, but i'm a terrible writer so i just put it all in bullet points and im wondering if i should post it here

[blorbocedes]

your beloved parallel universe wife anon here, i'm coming once again into your inbox because i was just imagining lewis and nico in a russian doll-like situation (i don't know if you've watched the series, the one with natasha lyonne, if you haven't i strongly recommend it because it's amazing, especially the first season). well, let's imagine lewis finds himself stuck in a time loop, forced to relive the same day over and over again and he's literally going crazy because he's got no damn clue about how to get out of the loop, and also because he can't tell anyone about what's happening to him or they'd definitely think he's lost his mind. until one of these days that he's relived countless times (even though, despite the setting always being the same, the days all look different because he's been trying to figure out how to get out of this) he meets nico in the lift of their montecarlo building and that's how he finds out that nico is in the same situation, stuck in a time loop he doesn't know how to escape. needless to say lewis isn't very pleased that he has to go through all of this with his former anything but lover *COUGHS VIOLENTLY* at first, but nico thinks there must be a reason that the universe is playing this trick on them, that maybe there's something they have to accomplish together if they want to get out of the loop. so every night they promise to find the other the following day so that they can keep investigating and trying to break the loop, and this of course makes them get closer and also pushes them to talk about everything that happened back in 2016 one day, making them reach some sort of reconciliation. and then the morning after they both realise that it's not the same day anymore, and that the universe, tired of their antics as well, probably pulled this prank on them because there are some things, some loves, that nothing could ever truly break and force apart

(cont) 'so lewis figures that it's maybe about damn time he gives nico another chance and they decide to start over '

my lovely anonwifestie im thinking it's time we renew our vows again 🤭🥰 im still as in love with you as the first time we met

first of all I LOVE Russian Doll, i binged season 2 in like 2 days, nat lyonne fucks so hard and the outfit inspo!!! ugh!

I am such a sucker for forceful magical trope where the solution is reconciliation 😭 I've actually written them for other fandoms!!! the thing about the Groundhog Day au (same day over and over) is that it is such a visual treat. i still have supernatural's "heat of the morning" stuck in my head and I'm not even an spn fucker 😭 just a tumblr heyday connoisseur. however I Have read some fics that capture the Groundhog Day vibes just perfect, the repetitiveness the unease the going from denial to perfect memorisation of every possibility by day 200...... all that good stuff. could I do it justice? no, but is it a delicious delicious concept? yes

Lewis was tired of dying by the stairs. He'd avoided the lift every time he saw Nico's blonde hair through the closing gap of the elevator doors. But he'd been through so many loops at this point, he just wanted to be able to go to up his room, see Roscoe again -- the day starting from the Mercedes motorhome and him being unsuccessful to get back to his apartment.

This time, he walks in the elevator. He expects Nico to avoid him, the cool silence between the two the handful of times they've shared the lift over, what, a decade of living here? That would be par for the course.

Instead, Nico's eyes widen. "That's new." He says, under his breath.

Lewis is immediately out of patience, he's died too many times to care. "Nico," oh, it feels good to say his name, to stop pretending he's above it all, "Shut up, man. You won't believe the kind of day I'm having." Days now, if not weeks. He's lost count.

Chances are Lewis will turn on a light switch at his apartment and die anyways, so why bother with all the energy it took to avoid Nico? When nothing mattered anymore.

Nico laughed, a more expressive sound from him than Lewis has heard in years. "Touchy. Yeah, I bet."

Lewis is actually glad when the lights starts flashing red, pressure losing rapidly as their elevator fails. Better to pull the plug as fast as possible. He looks at Nico, to see the panic, horror, fear all the mundane expressions of when you're about to die. Instead, Nico is calm, almost smiling with his eyes closed.

"We're about to die, mate." Lewis comments, in case he hadn't noticed; was in some deep denial funk. Nah, Nico didn't get to walk out of this.

Nico opens his eyes to smirk at him, always leaving with the last word, doesn't he?

He knocks the wind out of Lewis more than the eventual crunch will.

"It's okay, I die all the time."

Wait, what?!

Everything goes black.

Lewis wakes up in his Mercedes motorhome to the same fucking annoying affirmations alarm. 'You are loved. You are important. You are the best you can be. You will rise again.'

But this time, he has a purpose. He has to find Nico.

(hehehe I hope you enjoyed it... I love love being stronger than every cosmic force in the universe...... how long do you think they'd take to get their shit together lol)

[free-pool-trash]

happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

[vicious-vixxxen]

Drabble Interest Check #1

So just a quick recap, refer to my previous post for a more in depth explanation- I wanna start sharing some drabbles I write more off of a whim, when idea’s hit me really suddenly, and I just start writing them down, and they never turn into much afterwards.  But, I thought if I shared them with you guy’s, maybe they’d prompt some inspo to request more, to turn them into full fics, with a full story- as most of my drabbles spawn from me thinking of one specific scenario, and building off of it a bit until I get to a drabble length- or more, as this one is nearly 2K lol don’t ask me how, I was super into it as I was writing.  Or urge me to try and and add a real start and finish to them, so put out as full fic’s myself. I also think these drabbles will give you a guys a better idea of what I like to write, what I'm willing to write, and what I'm open to writing. As my drabbles usually hit more angst and nsfw/kink notes. ‘Problematic’ or otherwise. I’ll add some notes to the end of the fic to give an idea of what I had in mind with this drabble, and go more in depth on that. But here it is, I'm actually very proud of this one, and hope to figure out how to finish it at some point.  Established Enji Todoroki X Male!Reader Additionally: Natsuo Todoroki x Male!Reader angst, unrequited love (or is it? ;3))

Shuffling into the kitchen, you grimaced as the carpet turned to cold, hard tile below your feet- wrapping your arms around yourself as you did your best to stay quiet, rummaging around the Todoroki kitchen for some snacks. You’d woken up restless, your stomach growling, and after prying yourself from underneath Enji’s death grip, you’d worked up quite the appetite. The soft sizzle of pork on the stove could be heard soon enough. Not too loud, but that, alongside the soft beeping of the rice cooker, and the delicious scent of your cooking wafting across the lower levels of the house, are what woke Natsuo from a fitful sleep. Rubbing both of his eyes with his fists, Natsuo yawned. Brow lifted in question as he sniffed the air, and checked the clock. Who the hell was cooking at two in the morning?

 Legs swinging off the bed, he stuffed his feet in his house shoes, and set off towards the kitchen. Yawning as he went, lifting up his shirt briefly to rub at his stomach, as he came to a stop in the kitchen doorway. The scents pouring out of it pulling a soft moan from his lips, his stomach twisting with want.

Though not just for food anymore. Not when he saw you moving swiftly around the kitchen, like you’d cooked there your whole life. Trying to be silent, but humming under your breath quietly. Clad in nothing but a pair of sleep shorts...and one of Natsuo’s fathers much larger shirts. The younger Todoroki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, ignoring the steering jealousy that raged within him, in favor of whistling lowly, catching your eye, and offering you a shake of his head, and a soft smile as he moved around the island, towards you. You had enough sense to at least look apologetic, though Natsuo quickly shrugged it off, coming around to inspect your cooking briefly, before allowing himself to be dragged into a hug by you. Something he could vaguely recall being off put by, the first time his father had introduced you to them all. Your affection. Your ability to be so close in so little time. Trusting, caring, sweet, kind. Intimate touch of any kind was something Natsuo had rejected all his life- well, when he could start rejecting it- as his own advances for comfort and touch as a child had been snuffed out quickly. Point being, it had taken him a while for him to come around to you being so...hands on, with him. Seeing you be so hands on with his siblings. It settled something, deep within himself, he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge even existed, but it helped. It helped a lot. Though now, Natsuo rationed quietly in his own mind...now maybe he took things too far. His hands slung around your waist, your arms around Natsuo’s neck- hands in his soft, white hair, face in the boy's neck, where it would usually be pressed to Enji’s chest. You and Natsuo were almost the same height, though Natsuo had you beat on mass- taking after his father already, broad shouldered: muscular. Handsome. He was going to be a fine young man some day...he already was, really. An uncomfortable flip of your stomach followed as Natsuo nuzzled into your neck- and you were quick to pull back slowly after, patting the boys chest with a smile, looking up at him through your lashes briefly, before turning to the stove to flip the cuts of pork in the pan. “Are you hungry?” You whispered, almost conspiratorially, grinning as Natsuo blushed, laughing under his breath, before nodding. “Good. Grab two bowls, it’s almost finished.” You both ate in relative silence, only your contented sighs, and Natsuo’s soft affirmations of how good the food was. As always. You even had Fuyumi beat when it came to certain dishes. Though he’d never tell his sister that. When the food was gone, and all that were left were empty plates, you lead Natsuo back to the large family room, adjacent to the kitchen, both of you taking seats on either side of the love seat/ feet tangled together under a blanket you threw over you both, before dissolving into random, half asleep conversation. Stomachs full, bodies warm, and pliable. Your eyes closed as you recalled something from your childhood- natsuo suddenly wide awake, as his eyes drifted down over your neck, counting your freckles, and blushing as His fathers shirt rode down far enough to see some of your chest hair, and the definition between your pecs. God you were handsome, Natsuo thought, consumed with the need to lean over and press his face info your chest. Rip his fathers shirt off of you, and swaddle you in one of his collegiate sweatshirts instead. It would keep you warm so much better. Plus, Natsuo thought suddenly, heatedly: you’d just look good in something of his. The icy blue of Natsuo’s color palette reflected in your eyes. God... “Natsuo?” You called across to him, snapping the younger man out of his daydreaming- a deep crimson flushing down over his pale cheeks, as the younger Todoroki averted his gaze, and rubbed at his neck. “Sorry, I just...I got...I was somewhere else, for a moment. I apologize.” Natsuo finally stuttered out gruffly, staring off at the corner of the wall, trying to calm his thoughts. But they were swarming now, insistent, /fiery/, burning up his chest, and his mind. “It’s alright, I-“ “why-“ Natsuo caught himself, biting his tongue as he cut you off, feeling embarrassed. You paused, smiling and shaking your head as you motioned for the man to continue. 

“....why are you with my father?” Natsuo finally asked. Voice soft, hesitant. But firm enough that it was clear he was demanding an answer this time. Because he’d asked this very same question just weeks after first meeting you. When you’d fixed the young man with a knowing gaze, rested a hand on his chest, and simply said “because I like him”. Natsuo couldn’t fathom anyone so much as tolerating his father, let alone liking him. So it was a bit jarring, to say the least. “Do we really have to go over this again?” Ah, Natsuo thought. So you remembered that too. “My father could live a thousand lives atoning for what he’s done, and it would never be enough to deserve someone like you,” Natsuo said, voice heavier now, a little louder, breaking the quiet space you’d created there on the sofa together. Gaze directly on you now. Your eyes. Your gorgeous eyes that looked at his father with such admiration, that it made Natsuo ill sometimes to bear witness to it. “You are not the sole keeper of your fathers misgivings, Natsuo. He hasn’t just hurt you. Whether you choose to see and actively acknowledge the man he’s trying to become, is on you, and I won’t force your hand or try and tell you how you should feel. But don’t question my love for your father, because it’s just that: mine.” You matched the young man's tone, voice even, and soft, yet affirmative- leaving no room for argument. Though Natsuo seemed to want to test that. “So you love the old man then, huh? You really love him?” Natsuo urged, sitting up suddenly, much closer now as you stared. “Not that it is any of your business, but yes, Natsuo, yes. I’m in love with your father, and I see myself living a long and happy life with him. Getting married, settling down, having-“ “having what? Kids?!” Natsuo questioned, eyes wide as he stared at you. You paused, wondering if this was a conversation you should be having with Enji at your side. Natsuo was sweet, and soft spoken- when it was with anyone who wasn’t his father, that is, since that usually resulted in a shouting match between the two. Now though, he was feeling combative apparently- questioning your decisions, which you didn’t appreciate in the slightest. “Please tell me you’re not stupid enough to want to have /children/ with that man?” Natsuo urged, half desperate, half pleading, as he sat up on his knees, nearly towering over you now as you looked down on you. “Watch. Your. Tone.” You warned him, sitting up so you were on even level again, noses nearly brushing as you did so. “Your father may put up with your snippy, accusatory remarks because he thinks allowing you to walk over him will somehow bring you two closer together, but I sure as fuck won’t.” Your cursing nearly made Natsuo flinch out of pure guilt, but he stood his ground. “You’re fooling yourself if you think he’d be any different with your kids. Look at how we turned out! Is that what you want for your own children? A childhood of solicitude and abuse, to feel unwanted, and uncared for? To wonder every night when they go to bed why their father doesn’t love them?! Is that what you want!” Natsuo was shouting now, panic rising in his throat, and you suddenly felt wholly unprepared for this conversation. “I’ll be damned if I allow that sorry excuse of a man and a father, to think about bringing up new children. Robbing you of your chance to have a real partner by your side. Someone to help you care for, and love your children. You...you deserve so much better than him, I don’t understand.” Natsuo was holding back tears now, chest heaving as he breathed, and you couldn’t take it. Gathering him up in your arms, you brought the man in for a tight hug. Cradling him in, and rubbing his back as he began to cry, mumbling nonsense into your neck as you just held him, and closed your eyes, willing back your own tears as you bared witness to something for the first time: the result of Enji’s fathering. Or, your brain offered up weakly: the lack thereof. Even more so...his abuse. Here you were, experiencing the aftermath first hand, and it made your heart hurt so deeply, and your mind race. You wanted to beat the shit out of Enji for doing this to Natsuo, but what could be done about it now? Enji was trying, he was trying so hard every day. But Natsuo was clinging to his hate, and his anger, and his fears, and who were you to tell him he should let them go? At least this way, you rationalized, you could be there for him when they became too much. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Im sorry,” you whispered into his hair, raking your fingers through it as Natsuo shuddered through another sob, and shook his head in your chest. “I'm so sorry, Natsuo. I’m so, so sorry.” He mumbled something then, body tense, refusing to be pulled back to see your face, even as you tried. “What?” You asked quietly, tilting your head to hear him better. “Do you love /us/?” ‘Me’. Do you love me he’d asked first, you realized, and your heart beat sped up as you did your best to squeeze Natsuo impossibly tighter- head in his hair as you nodded. “I love you all so much. Fuyumi, Shoto. I have love for your mother, and for Toya. And I love you, Natsuo, I love you so much. I’m honored to be able to call you my family now. I do love you,” you reassured him, shushing him quietly through a new set of sobs, before tensing when Natsuo suddenly sat up, hot breath and humid, tear stains cheeks ghosting across your face as icy grey eyes met yours. He was nearly panting with the effort to stop his crying, clearly looking for something as he stared at you, before he was leaning forward and smashing your lips together in a heated, desperate kiss.

thus concludes the drabble, now on to the end notes lol

So yeah, that’s it lol, lemme know what you guys think? The plan for this originally was to have some sort of double todoroki x male!reader endgame, where he’d end up with both Enji and Natsuo, by some means. Though not without a fair bit more angst thrown in. Arguments, fighting, etc etc. But I did wanna have them all three be endgame someway or another.  Which, yes, would include incest. Whether direct or indirect, cuz one could make the argument they’re sort of just dating the same person, which is also fine- cuz it’s adorable to me, but they’d all be fucking at some point, even if most of the attention is solely on the male reader, it would happen. That’s part of the big reason I wanna do this drabble interest checks, because they give you a glimpse into my problematic mind, and you can decide for yourselves if you wanna stick around and be a part of it, or leave.  Not to say poly relationships are problematic in the slightest, of course- I adore poly ships, and hope to write some in the future- but incest? Boy howdy.  But I love it sksksk >;3  So lemme know what you guy’s think of this fic! If you want to see it continued, if so, how so?  Feel free to ask me anon or otherwise about kink and dynamics, sfw or nsfw, if you’d like too. I’m gonna make an updated kink list with kinks I will be writing about eventually, so you can decide to stick around and see them, or show yourself out so they don’t bother you. My space is mine, so I will not be responding to, or entertaining people who want to be upset about them, or disagree with my tastes. It’ll get you nowhere, telling you right now.  But yeah. Lemme know guys. <3 Vixen

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

7th Dimension (Chapter 3.1)

7TH DIMENSION SYNOPSIS/MASTERLIST

PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 3

WATTPAD LINK FOR 7TH DIMENSION

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: (PART 2) It has been three days that you were unconscious and on bedrest. Gojo Satoru was restless due to the fact of the relics you own---the manga panels you had on hand while surviving a car-crash in the middle of the Hanami incident. He was impatient for information and Satoru was not one to keep himself out of the subject matter especially that these artifacts you acquired had memories of the one and only bestfriend he had and also sketches of a future that left him clueless for whatever lays ahead for him.

Warnings: Brief mention of Riko Amanai. Please don't hate Satoru on this one and with the way he was thinking. Megumi, Yuji and Kugisaki moments.

Tell me if you want to be tagged whenever I publish chapters for 7th Dimension! Send an ask or message me!

A/N: I'm sorry I keep publishing chapters with part 1, part 2 and so on. I tend to be descriptive, so I've been cutting it into different parts so y'all won't get too overwhelmed by it. 😅😂😥 (My cat keeps walking on my lap for the tenth time today while I'm trying to edit this---I apologize the typos and grammatical errors!)

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SUPER-DUPER HIGHLY APPRECIATED! IT GIVES ME SUCH MOTIVATION AND INSPO!

Words: 2.5k words. (Kinda short! This was the next part for chapter 3. I just had to cut it into two because if I did include this on chapter 3 then I would've reached 9k words for one chapter? Hehehe)

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. I only own the plot of this whole fanfic. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the anime or manga as this is a FANFIC.

KUGISAKI NOBARA, A FEMALE FIRST YEAR STUDENT OF GOJO SATORU, a classmate of Yuji Itadori and Fushiguro Megumi who had high reserves of cursed energy and is an expert on manipulating it, wasn't known to be a very patient woman especially when she was ecstatic upon going to places she hardly knew of. She was definitely infuriated over the fact that their Sensei was taking too long than what he promised. It has been twenty minutes already and her anticipation and enthusiasm over experiencing to dine in another known Sushi Restaurant around Tokyo was starting to die down because of their time being bided.

To a great degree of the fact that it was on Gojo's call for the sudden gift of treat.

"Adults are really annoying---," Nobara mumbled beneath her breath, growling through gritted teeth as she crossed her arms in disdain and also glaring at their teacher from where she stood beneath outside. The first year student acknowledged your presence who stood thunderstruck and petrified beside Gojo, painstakingly the contrary of him who wore the brightest smile while sending down a big wave to his students. She was dressed in her typical Jujutsu school uniform, A dark-blue button-down jacket and a long matching skirt that reaches just above her knees.

"--They take long in everything."

"Not all adults. Probably just, Gojo-Sensei." Megumi took his time upon descending the stairs with feathered foot steps, his scowl from the first experience he had with you and Gojo left a lasting impression that you were bound to be chaotic with the Sensei when you finally warm up to him more.

Though, if he were in your shoes, waking up and remembering nothing nor knowing who they were is surely not a problem to take lightly, right? It was like taking a baby out of a woman's womb when it was simply not the right time yet.

"Entirely irresponsible. Tch." The female student continued to grouch, tapping her foot impatiently, watching you and Gojo be engrossed in a conversation that only he endeavored because you still appeared to be lost in space, "---He promised to treat us out after the Tree incident because of the effort we put,"

"The effort we put." Megumi emphasized phlegmatically, taking an impassive gander at the woman.

She loudly huffed in return, disbelief filling her emotions as it reached her mouth. His words being taken to heart as if she was offended, "What do you mean by that, Fushiguro?"

"You were knocked out by Mai-senpai."

"---and you were brought out of the scene by Panda in the middle of it all, Fushiguro!" Nobara barked back, snarling in the process of their raillery.

Banters that spread across the place from left to right was considered as a customary for the trio. A habitual disposition between the first year students, following the additional repartees that their Sensei constantly includes every now and then. Megumi, being thoroughly accustomed by her aggressive attitude blinked languidly back at her, "If we were talking about the sweat under one's brow then Itadori, Todo-Senpai, Gojo-Sensei and the others get to be the people praised for the incident,"

"Sensei!" Yuji Itadori began to holler out loud,  waving back a big one as Gojo managed to give them a glance.

"He's been stalling all this time for chit-chat!" Nobara complained for the fifth time under twenty minutes of her time being partially wasted, she could hear Yuji chuckling beside her for no reason why, sending out a beam to the man who was intentionally being late for their treat-out.

She had no reason why but hearing Yuji's guffaws made her temples twitch in which he earned a glare from her.

"Kugisaki, you're being impatient, Gojo-Sensei's busy interrogating the girl who called Fushiguro, a 'Sea Urchin,' "

Megumi was quick off the mark with what Yuji declared. The cheerful, pink haired student blinked back at him that lacked of guile. His features quickly turning into a depiction of irritability from the wrinkles on his forehead.

There was no need for Fushiguro to mutter a word because his antagonizing silence was immediately understood by him.

"I needed to grab my phone back in my room and I happen to overhear some of the conversation?" Yuji tried to lessen his vexation by being honest, constantly scratching his head as he does so.

Megumi's frown deepened, he responded with a disgruntled hum. Yuji's teasing forever being a plague of peeve that he surely won't get over with every once in a while, "I like her then." Nobara took the mickey out of him, simmering his tea-pot a little more than it can ever take.

"Tch."

Fushiguro was left to his own aggravation as they were already used to his outwardly stoic expression and personality. The possessor of the Ten Shadows Technique, an inherited technique passed down in the Zenin Family---stifled his thoughts to himself and chose not to interact to their personalized taunts. He quietly listened to their continuous discussion, hearing Itadori ask Nobara a simpleminded question that was ought to be answered with no graveness considering that he was asking the female first year student.

"What would you think she would name me?" Yuji innocently mumbled, ignorant that Nobara coherently understood the subconscious spout of his tongue.

"Idiot, probably." she impassively mooted single-mindedly.

"Eh?" The possibility of not hearing her clearly passed by Yuji's subconsciousness, till he realized that she was giggling in the background from how he nodded back at her like he completely agreed to what she professed. All of a sudden, he turned downright taken aback, expression entirely flabbergasted, "---EH!"

The Land of the Rising Sun. Japan, the eleventh-most populous country in the world, as well as one of the most densely populated and urbanized.

At the time, it was beyond your capacity to comprehend what was happening around. Biting Gales swept passed your matted hair, the indignity of your once bedridden state came to your consciousness as you stood wonderstruck beside the guy named Gojo Satoru, wishing that everything was just a dream and that you hoped to finally wake up on.

Being in an overwrought state brought such intense humiliation that you were finally on your senses, with each retaliation from the moment you woke up in Megumi's room until you were behaving mad as a March Hare struck your senses that you actually existed and this was a reality that you were bound to believe in.

Perhaps, did you feel humiliated because everyone looked beautiful enough to be considered make-believe dolls and you appeared unprepossessing to their standard of appeal?

You had no idea, but an absolute feeling of mortification was punching you in the guts when Satoru began to pipe up a mocking question, presumably a slap to the face.

"Still don't believe me?" he motioned out onto the unlatched windows where fresh air began tousling your hair in different angles, "---We're in Tokyo Jujutsu High." Gojo retracted his hand away from your head, rather stunned that he would have the audacity to do so. Yet, he did not give you the benefit of seeing that he was somehow a little bit bewildered from his choice of gestures.

"To-kyo-Ju-jutsu-High." you've heard him repeat more with emphasis and with a lesser bit of an accent. He inserted his hands inside his pockets, leaning a lot more on the edges of the casement as you felt him slyly keeping you under his observation.

Despite of his bandaged eyesight, you could technically feel that he was trying to monitor your every move.

Was it making you uncomfortable? Yes. It was. Confining to the point that his mere presence was enough to make you breathless.

"I already graduated college, why am I even here?" was the only question you could muster, focusing on the three, young students right below the building who seemed to be making fun of each other.

Gojo meekly waited for any indication---signals that can tell him that you were capable of using any amount of Jujutsu. Was he anticipating it? he was taking in such pride towards his postulated convictions, expectant to be of liberty over another omission that transpired in the past. Having said that, Satoru did not want another Riko Amanai in the midst of what was happening around the Jujutsu Society today. He was trying to see through you, why you were capable of providing him grounds for whatever was drawn on such pieces of papers. To others, it was probably zilch but he trusted that it conveyed something out of a simple sketch.

Even showing signs of the bare minimum that you could be trained as a sorcerer, the ability to see cursed spirits was thrown out of the window specially that he could not see nor feel any ounce of cursed energy nor born with any innate talent.

None.

This woman who stood beside him, you---you were another substandard being. Weak, to be more frank.

He didn't need to escort another girl who he deemed as a puny human.

From the moment of your intervention alongside the trespassing of those Special Grade Cursed Spirit during the Kyoto-Sister-School-Good Will Event, up to the time you were being on the mend by Shoko, Gojo knew then and there that you were futile. Nevertheless, confiscating fragments of occurrence that involved him, a bestfriend he knew very well and the Jujutsu Society optimized him that you were teleported to their dimension for a cause.

But, for what reason?

You were unaware of how his smile went minimal upon his own dwelling, never knowing what he was thinking nor recognizing or being accustomed to his habits on how he actually lived as a human since this was the first time you met him, "You seem young, probably a few years younger than me." he nonchalantly stated, claiming his guesses like it was the truth and he had no idea that he was right.

"I'm taking an airplane and I'm leaving here to go back to my country," you firmly avowed, stepping back from the unhatched windows with a determined expression on your face, the way you nodded to yourself with clenched fists says that your decision was final.

Gojo couldn't help but laugh at that, his large palm being placed over his chest as he chuckled back.

"Ha! You sure about that?" he snickered, raising a brow underneath his blindfolds. His response made you give him a double take of your surprised glances, suddenly noticing the slight peek of Ivory-tinted brows that slipped from his bandages in which you tried to ignore, thinking that he had it bleached for whatever reason he wanted, "---Any form of transportation requires money, correct?"

Upon hearing his mockery, your clenched fists began to unfurl from the unforeseen apprehension. There was nothing. It didn't go unnoticed by Gojo but he saw you were stealthily trying to be sensible for any wallet or cellphone upon a clothing that Shoko has dressed you in. It was basically just a plain set of jogger pants and a white tee that was certainly unidentified because as much as you remembered, the clothing you wore back before you were moved to Japan were a set of working clothes adored.

You tried to ignore the smirk on his face and looked away, the heat from your toes coming through your veins and growing till the apples of your cheeks and forehead, knowing he got you there when you couldn't feel your own possessions with you, not even your cellphone.

"Are you saying you've been fondling my pockets when I was asleep and saw no wallet?"

He was keeping it. You knew it was with Satoru. Everything felt like you were being held hostage and you wanted to scream out loud for the conflicted emotions you were currently feeling.

"Yes." the elephant in the room crowed for his early conquer, crossing his arms over his chest as he heard you grumble here and there for his interminable confidence and nonchalance.

"This blindfolded creep,"

There was definitely a consuming equanimity flowing in his blood. It was driving you to distraction. The exasperation of his absolute self-confidence with an arresting poise and stature ending up as being the fracas of your heart and mind. Your level of conscience and sensations plucking the strings to your heart turning a discordant of fueled emotions.

"Correction. A handsome, great, blindfolded teacher." Gojo was candid as he declared so.

Your aggravation was short-lived as Satoru stooped down to your level, bending over to your height as if you were face-to-face, taking you aback from the prompt movement and from the lack of juxtaposition he offered which made your breath hitch.

He lifted two of his fingers, the middle and the pointer one. The latter oddly aimed the tips of his hefty fingers in between your forehead, lightly flicking you off which gained him a scowl from your point of view.

"Hey! My head's still throbbing! Are you trying to hurt my head for the second time?"

What was he trying to do? Make your amnesia go bye-bye like was some kind of god?

"Huh?" Satoru audibly muttered out loud, unable to process what just happened.

The fruitless result knocking him sideways as he expected you to go hit the hay with one flick to the forehead. He was definitely caught on the hop. Satoru had to repeat the gesture for the second time around to double-check again which had you backing away, much to his disappointment. The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer was incredulous over the disenchanting conclusion of it all, he just couldn't believe it.

Maybe, you existed for a certain reason after all.

"Interesting. I can't believe I'm not exempted in this and here I thought..." he went back to his soaring height and shrugged to himself, sticking his hands inside his pockets again before he shrugged to himself.

"Eh, There's no use then." Gojo Satoru began to walk past you. His distinct, odoriferous perfume brushing past, making you feel giddy for some undivulged reason that you couldn't comprehend. "---Come with us for a while, you can plan an escape route along the way,"

He paused, chuckling in the midst of his statement and actually ceased wending one's way across the hallway dorms of Tokyo Jujutsu High, pretending to act like he forgot something essential to say which can actually help you make a break for it. Satoru turned to see you take a dim view of his words, knowing that he was far from giving you the desire to leave.

This man was beyond buoyant that you could even think of leaving.

"That is, if you could run away from us, Jujutsu Sorcerers, Tiny-Chan!"

Chapter 3.1 has now ended. Next chapter has 5k+ words. Hope y'all are excited!

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! I WOULD LOVE IT SO MUCH! THANK YOU! HEEHEE!

[woosansang]

catch up with me tag game!

i was tagged by @hwichanis to answer some cute questions, thank u chrissy!!

favourite time of the year: honestly i never know how to answer these questions bc i dont really have a favourite season, like i like different times of year for different things. probably like. late summer? i definitely prefer warm weather over cold weather, so if we took out the fact that late summer means i’m going back to work after the holidays, then that’d probably be it - february-ish

comfort food: chicken stock and rice. my mother used to make it for us when we were little and sick and i still eat it when im really sick now

do you collect something? not really. i buy pins from any country i visit and put them all on this bag i had as a young teenager i guess? thinkin about starting to collect ateez albums though......... idk if my bank account wants this but i certainly am considering it asadajhf

favourite drink: coffee for sure

current favourite song: thanxx, but also ive been listening to utopia a lot even before they started performing it lately so it’s been really cool to see them do it on stage!

favourite colours: blue! also purple.

last song: bring it on by oneus

last series: in the middle of an atla rewatch

last movie: last night in soho. it was so fucking weird but also amazing? and anya taylor joy is also so hot im sorry but that was like half the reason i wanted to watch it sdbhfs

sweet, savoury, sour: savoury

craving: phone calls w friends hdfbshbfsj hi my name is jazzy and i am in a needy mood nice to meet u. also bubble tea but i had some today :D

currently working on: so many things but also nothing at the same time sigh. i have a fic im supposed to be writing, and two gifsets im supposed to be making, plus at least two gifsets for the inspo challenge kpopcc is hosting, plus like. actual work stuff i’m supposed to be doing this weekend. but instead i am doing none of those things :^) might try writing the fic tho hmmm

no pressure tags: @hwanswerland @sanhwaiting @hwanwooyoung @blueberrysan @ateezbiased @applejongho @mangomingki @hanjesungs @hyunfelix @steph-luvs-klaine @dearscone @joycebyres or anyone else who sees this and wants to do it <3

[dreamingofaizawa]

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

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You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you. 

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily. 

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.” 

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.” 

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently. 

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

*

*

*

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun. 

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes. 

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease. 

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.” 

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips.  He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time. 

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?” 

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave. 

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

[tanniefm]

boyfriend | jjk (m)

summary - jungkook knows what you need and definitely knows your husband can’t give it to you like he can.

pairing - jungkook x (f) reader

genre - cheating au, fwb, porn with very little plot

word count - 1.7k

song inspo - boyfriend by ray j (i literally couldn’t stop thinking of this man while listening to this song it was becoming an issue)

warnings - infidelity, explicit language, soft dom jk, sub reader, daddy kink, praise kink, it’s kinda angsty at the end oops.., pet names, kook’s very sweet but :(, subspace, hints of dumbification, jealous kook cause he loves you, unprotected sex (please don’t be stewpid like these two), jungkook in sweatpants and a ponytail (the ultimate combo)

a/n - AHHHH hi this is my first fic (more like a drabble but you get the point) like ever and i did nawt feel like editing anymore than needed cause i was afraid i’d end up deleting everything...with that said!! i really hope you enjoy and sorry if it’s cringy or wtv umbdhb yeah enjoy! oh also merry christmas if you celebrate 🥺🥺

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°

You knock on his door hastily. You texted him a few minutes earlier because you just couldn’t take it anymore. You tried to be a good wife. A good, loving, perfect wife for Jacob. But he’s driving you fucking crazy. He won’t listen to you, won’t thank you when you do things for him, and he damn sure can’t fuck you like he can. You and Jungkook have been friends for the longest. He knows everything about you and that’s probably why he can make you cum as hard as he does. You hate that it got to this point. One heated argument with Jacob a few months back is all it took for you to come to your best friend's apartment to vent and next thing you knew you were having the best sex you’ve ever had. Now you crave him constantly and you’re not even sure if you feel bad about it.

You instantly clear your thoughts when Jungkook opens the door with a smug look on his face. Fuck, he looks good. Hair in a ponytail, his black long sleeves rolled up, putting his various tattoos on display. And to your delight, gray sweatpants tight enough where you can clearly see him hard as hell. You automatically launch into his embrace and kiss him needily. He knows you, he knows why you’re here. And he’s happy to give it to you. He smiles and chuckles into the kiss and closes the door behind him. He backs you up against the door and pulls away, much to your dismay. He giggles as you whine from the loss of his lips on yours. 

“What’d he do this time, pretty girl?” he says softly as he cups your face. His hands are so pretty, you think. They're so big and make you feel so good. He’s so big. He loves making you feel cute and small, like he’s the only one that can take care of you. You think he might be right.

“Couldn’t cum…” you whine. There’s a tiny pout on your face and Jungkook thinks you’re adorable. He’ll never say it out loud, but sometimes he wishes you’d just leave him to be his. You and him both know that won’t happen though, you’re very adamant that you love Jacob. Whatever, Jungkook will take what he gets. As long as he has you.

He smiles and mockingly pouts back. “I know baby, you need me to take care of you, hm? My baby needs me to make her feel good?” He pecks your forehead softly as you whine some more. You’re so needy, he has no idea why that dude refuses to listen to you when you ask to try different things in bed. Vanilla is cute every now and then but Jungkook knows you want more. You like to be thrown around and choked but you also love when you’re praised. You like being a good girl but you’re also a fucking brat. You like to be kissed, and cuddled, and babied after you have consecutive orgasms. Jungkook knows you, so why doesn’t he?

You nod and fist your hands into his shirt. You need him, badly. He’s all you could think about while you and Jacob were having sex. All you asked was if he could pull your hair a bit and he looked at you like you were crazy and told you no. It’s one thing to not be comfortable with doing certain things, but to look at you like that and not even hear you out? It stung, and all you wanted was for Kook to take care of you like you knew he would.

“I asked for him to pull my hair and he looked at me like I was stupid. I-I just wanted to try something different for once and he refuses to do anything I want to do. I need you Kookie please I’m so wet I can’t-“ 

“Shh sweetheart, it’s ok. Come on, I’ll take care of it.” he cuts you off gently and taps on the back of your thighs to signal you to jump. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist and bury your face in his neck and suck bruises into his smooth skin while he carries you to his room. He lays you on his bed and kisses you deeply. His hands slowly move your shirt up and out of the way as he makes his way down your neck. You quickly take your bra off and throw it to the side. You can tell he wants to eat you out but you’re very impatient. As much as you love his mouth on you, you desperately need his cock filling you up right now. He softly kisses your nipple and looks up. You’re pouting again. You’re even needier than he thought. He pulls your leggings down and zeros in on your panties. There’s a huge wet spot in the middle and he can feel his cock twitch. The string of arousal that attaches itself to your underwear while he pulls them down is driving him insane.

“My poor baby, you weren’t kidding when you said how wet you were, huh? Who made you this wet?” he says while he strips his shirt off, showing more of his copious tattoos. He loved when you traced them while he held you and hummed softly after you were sent deep into subspace. Maybe he can experience that again tonight.

“You did daddy,” Bingo. You weren’t even thinking when you said it, all you could think about was him him him. He froze before swiftly pulling down his sweatpants and you watched in awe as his dick spring up to his stomach. He’s so big, you need him so bad. He climbs back on top of you and kisses you roughly while teasing your entrance. He keeps running his tip up and down to spread around your arousal.

“Daddy, please I need you inside. Please don’t tease.” you whine. You’re squirming around and your eyes are starting to well up. Why isn’t he fucking you? Should you have come at all? What if he doesn’t want you anymore? Your mind is so fuzzy and negative thoughts are starting to swirl and pull you deeper and deeper-

“Hey hey, look at me. No more thinking baby, just focus on me. There you go, that’s my good girl.” he squeezes your hips as he pushes in. He can tell when you start overthinking, it’s one of the perks of being friends with you for so long. You moan loudly as he pushes deep inside of you. He quickly sets a rough pace once he feels you adjust and sees your eyes roll back in euphoria. You’re so beautiful. He loves that he can make you feel like this. You’re squeezing so tightly around him and everything feels so fucking good. He pushes your legs to your chest and you gasp loudly.

“Daddy it-it’s too deep! Oh my fucking God I- fuck!” you whimper as he goes faster.

“You can take it precious, I know you can. You’re doing so well. Taking me so well. Fuck- you’re always so good for me. My pretty little girl. Love this fucking pussy, shit!” he rambles. He can’t help it, just as much as he fucks you stupid he also gets into a headspace where he can’t think of anything but you. The pretty sounds you make, your tight ass pussy, your soft thighs he’s holding. And that stupid fucking man you’re married to. The thought of him makes him pound into you harder. He hates him, he really does. He hates him because he wants to be him. Jungkook would treat you like a princess if you were his. But you chose that lame ass dude.

“Does he fuck you like this? Hm? Does he know how much of a little slut you are for me? Does he know how much you need this dick to make you cum?” he growls. You shake your head and dig your nails into his biceps.

“No daddy it’s you, only you. No one else but you” you mumble. You’re so fucked out and so so close. Just a little more, a little longer.

“Fuck you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna cum princess? My little slut gonna cum all over me? I know you want to baby, go ahead and let go for me” he switches angles and makes sure your clit is rubbing against his pelvis while he continually hits your g-spot. You nod quickly while he encourages you more and more. With a cry of his name, you finally let go. It only takes Jungkook a few more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of you with a whiny moan. He drops down and faceplants into your neck as you both pant heavily. You feel him peck your neck and face softly as he mumbles how good you were for him.

“My good,” forehead kiss, “precious,” cheek kiss, “baby,” nose kiss, “girl,” he finally reaches your lips. You smile and giggle at his cute antics. He always gets so soft after sex, you love it though. He gently pulls out and lays down beside you to tuck you in his arms. 

“You were so good baby. I’m so proud of you.” he says as he plants several kisses on the top of your head. You snuggle deeper into his chest and look up at him with starry eyes. Your head’s still fuzzy, but you feel safe with him. Jungkook is safe.

“I’m good?” you ask quietly. You were fuzzy, but you weren’t stupid. You knew what you two were doing is wrong. You knew you should break it off or at the very least leave Jacob. But you can’t, you still love him. You want to grow old with him. He just...can’t give you what you need sometimes.

Jungkook pauses. He wants to tell you to leave him. He could give you everything and more if you just leave him. But that always ends in an argument, and he hates arguing with you.

“Yes sweetheart, you’re perfect.” It’s ok. Jungkook can wait.

[highsviolets]

INTERVIEW NO. 1: RACHEL @djarinsbeskar

hello hello! i am so happy to announce that rachel — aka the immense talent that is @djarinsbeskar — has agreed to be my first interviewee for this new series! thank you to rach and to each one of you for all of your support. to read more about the project, click here, and to submit an author, click here.

| why rachel? |

Rachel captured my imagination from the first time we interacted as mutuals-in-law. She’s bursting with energy and vivaciousness, with a current of kindness just underneath everything she does. Her work is no exception. Oftentimes gritty, raw, and exposing (in … ahem…more ways than one), Rachel challenges her readers to dig deeper into both the story and themselves. Her smut brings a particular fire as it’s laced with need, desire, and mutual trust that leads us deeper into the characters’ identities and how physical affection can mimic other forms of intimacy. She’s a tour de force in this fandom and an absolute joy.

| known for |

Engaging with and encouraging other authors, cultivating inspo posts, attention to world building & character development

| my favorites |

Stitches

Boxer!Din

Full Masterlist • Ko-Fi

| q & a |

When did you start writing? What was that project, and what was it like? Has that feeling or process ever changed over time? Why?

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t writing. I was an avid reader, as I think most writers are—and I remember, after picking up Lord of the Rings—that I could live so many lives, experience so many things, all from the pages of a book. I could make sense of the world through words and ink and paper. And it offered me a level of peace and clarity I wanted to share with others. So, I started writing.

My first project I remember to this day, was a short story about a dog. I had been so heartbroken when I learned that dogs were colourblind. I must have been about seven or eight at the time, and I was fixated on this idea that dogs couldn’t see the vibrant hues that made the world beautiful. It was something I wanted to change—and with all the righteous anger of a child not getting their own way, I sulked over the fact that I couldn’t. Until I wrote it down.

“How do dogs see colour?”

And much like my writing today, I answered myself.

“Dogs don’t need to see colour. Dogs smell colour.”

And so, I wrote a story, about a puppy being brought on different walks by its owner. And with every new street it walked down—colour bloomed with scent. Colours more beautiful and vibrant than we could ever hope to see with our eyes. And it gave me solace and helped me work through an emotion that – granted was immature and inconsequential – had affected me. To this day, I still smile seeing dogs sniffing at everything they pass on their walks. Smelling colour. It gave me the key to my favourite thing in life. I don’t think my process has changed much since then. Much of what I write is based on a skeleton plan, but I leave room for characters to speak and feel as they need to. I like to know the starting point and destination of a chapter—but how they get there, that still falls to instinct. I think I’ve found a happy medium of strict planning and winging it that suits me now—and hopefully it will continue to improve over time!

When did you start posting your writing, and on what platform? What gave you the push to do that?

I mean, fanfiction has always been part of my life. I think anyone who was growing up in the late 2000’s and early 2010’s found their way to fanfiction.net at some time or other. The wild west compared to what we have now! My first post was for the Lord of the Rings fandom on fanfiction.net. It was an anthology of the story told through the eyes of the steeds. Bill the Pony, Shadowfax—it was all very innocent. That was probably in 2010 when I was fifteen. I had been wanting to share writing for a long time but was worried about how it would be received. I didn’t really have a gauge on my level or my creativity and – one of the many flaws of someone with crippling perfectionism – I only ever wanted to provide perfection. That was a major inhibitor when I was younger. By wanting it to be perfect, I never posted anything. Until that stupidly cute LOTR fic. It was freeing to write something that no one but me had any interest in, because if I was writing for myself then there was no one to disappoint, right? And that was all it took. I had some pauses over the years between college and life and such, but I’ve never lost that mindset when it comes to posting.

What your favorite work of yours that you have ever written? Why is it your favorite? What is more important to you when considering your own stories for your own enjoyment — characters? fandom? spice? emotional development? the work you’ve put into it? Is that different than what you enjoy reading most in other people’s fics?

I don’t think it’ll come as much of a surprise when I say Stitches. While not original, I mean—it follows the plot of the Mandalorian quite diligently, it is the piece of work I really hold very close to my heart. Din Djarin as a character is what got me back into writing after what must have been five years? He inspired something. His manner, his personality—he resonated with me as a person in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. And gave me back a creative outlet I had been missing.

It’s funny to say out loud—but I wanted to give him something? I spent so long thinking about his character that half my brain felt like it belonged to him—how he reacted and responded to things etc. and of course, like every dreamy Pisces—I wanted to give him love and happiness. So, Stitches came along. Personally, when writing—it’s a combination of characters, emotional development and spice (I can’t help myself) and when we can follow that development. With Stitches, it’s definitely the spice that is the conduit for development—but I adore showing how the physical can help people who struggle to communicate emotions too complex for words.

I don’t usually read for Din, as most people know—but I do enjoy reading the type of work that Stitches is. Human, damaged—but still with an undercurrent of hope that makes me think of children’s books.

You said, “much like writing today, I answered myself.” Could you talk about that in relation to Stitches?

So, I’m endlessly curious, it has to be said. Especially about why people are the way they are. Why people do A instead of B. Why X person’s immediate thought went to this place instead of that place. And I’m rarely satisfied with superficial explanations. One of the most exciting parts of writing and fanfiction especially, is making sense of that why. There can be countless explanations, some that are content with what is seen on the surface and some that go deep and some that go even deeper still.

Stitches is almost a – very long winded and much too long – answer to the questions I was so intrigued by about Din Djarin, about the Mandalorian and about the Star Wars universe as a whole. I often wondered what happened to people after the Rebellion, the normal people who fought—the people in the background. What did they do next? Did some of them suffer from PTSD? What was the galaxy like right after the Empire fell? That first season of the Mandalorian answered some of those questions, but I wanted to know more. So, I created a reader insert who was a combat medic—and through her, I let myself answer the questions of what happened next.

Regarding Din as a character, I wanted to know what a bounty hunter with a code of honour would do in certain situations—what made him tick, what made hm vulnerable. I wanted to explore the discovery of his identity. Din Djarin didn’t exist after he was taken from Aq Vetina. He became a cog in a very efficient machine of Mandalorians—and it was safe there. I wanted to see what – or who – might encourage him to step into his own. Grogu was that person in a familial sense, but what about romantically? What about individually? There’s so much to explore with this man! So many facets of personality and nuances of character that make him so gorgeous to write and think about.

Talk to me about the Din Djarin Athletic Universe. How does Din as all of these forms of athlete play off who you see him as in canon?

The Athletic Universe! How I adore my athletes. Despite being in a modern setting, I have kept the core of Din’s character in each of them (at least I hope I have!). I like to divide Din’s character into three phases when it comes to canon because he’s not as immovable as people seem to think he is. We discussed this before, how I see Din as a water element—adaptable, but strong enough that he can be as steadfast as rock. But I digress, the first phase is the character we see in the first episode. Basically, before Grogu. There’s an aggressive brutality to Din when we see him bounty hunting. He works on autopilot and isn’t swayed by sob stories or promises. He has the covert but is ultimately separate. Those soft feelings he comes to recognise when he has Grogu are dormant – not non-existent – but they haven’t been nurtured or encouraged. This is the point I extracted Boxer!Din’s personality and story from.

Cyclist!Din on the other hand—is already a father, a biological father to Grogu. And his personality, I took from that moment in the finale of Season two where I believe Din’s transformative arc of character solidified. He was always a father to Grogu, but I do believe that moment where he removes his helmet is the moment, he accepts that role fully in his heart and mind. And that is why I don’t believe for a second, that removing his helmet was him breaking his Creed. In fact, I believe it was the purest act he could do in devotion to his Creed—to his foundling, to his son. The Cyclist!AU is very much the character I see canon Din having should Grogu have stayed with him. This single dad who isn’t quite sure how he got to where he is now—but does anything and everything for his child without thought. It’s a natural instinct for him, and I like exploring those possibilities with Cyclist!Din.

You also said, “he has the covert but is ultimately separate.” What does it take for him — and you — to get to that point of being ‘not separate?’

I mentioned this above, but one of the biggest interests I have in Din as a character is his identity. He’s a Mandalorian, he’s a bounty hunter, he’s the child’s guardian but those are all what he is, not who. I think Din is separate while being part of the covert because he doesn’t know. I don’t think anyone can really be part of something if they don’t know who they are or, they struggle with their identity. It’s curious to me—how you can deceive even yourself to mimic the standard set for the many. In the boxer verse, he identifies himself in relation to his boxing—and every part of his outward personality exhibits those qualities. But when he’s given a softer touch—an outlet of affection, and comfort—we see the softer side of him surface. It’s very much the same with Stitches Din. Identity is like anything, emotions—relationships, bodies. It needs nurturing to thrive, an open door—a safe space. At least, that’s what goes through my mind when I think of him.

Who is your favorite character to read?

Frankie because there are so many ways his character can be interpreted and there are some stellar versions of him that I think of at least once a day. Javi because he reminds me of kintsugi-- golden recovery, broken pottery where the cracks are highlighted with gold. I also adore reading for Boba Fett, Paz Viszla and the clones!

Is there anything else you want your readers to know about you, your writing, or your creative process?

Hmm... only that I am quite literally a gremlin clown who is always here to chat Din, Star Wars, literature, book recs and anything else under the sun! I like to hear people's stories, their opinions etc. it helps me see things from alternative points of view and can truly help the writing process! Other than that, I think I can only thank readers for putting up with my ridiculously long chapters and rambling introspection. Thank you for indulging me always! ❤️