#i get so excited when you guys want to hear more about this au
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theglassofmiddleearth · 2 days ago
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Imagine Reader watching WICKED 2024 for the first time with the 141.
2 FICS in 1
Camera Guy!Au, Female Reader
Masterlist
Previous - next
Reader can sing.
Reader! who can sing but the rest of the base has no idea. She hasn't sung in a while until WICKED came out. Now she has to refrain from belting out the songs in the common showers.
Reader! who hums in the common room and sings quietly in her room. (Ghost can hear her.) Ghost who makes a note of this and gets prime video just for no reason. (Yes it's so she can watch WICKED over and over again.)
Reader! who thanks him with excited rambling before shutting up with an embarrassed smile.
‘I uh, I just really like-’
‘Its okay Sargent. We all have things we like, just like Johnny loves those fluffy shites.’ Ghost shrugs good naturedly.
‘You mean kittens?’ Reader! stifles laughter, not wanting him to take away her password privileges to Ghost's account.
Soap and Gaz who end up joining her to watch. Both arguing that they would be Elphaba but the Price who walks in claims the title of ‘The Elphaba’ of the task force. Gaz and Soap pout and slouch down into the couch while Reader! chuckles.
‘I remember when the broadway show had its first tour.’ Price hums.
‘Okay grandpa it's time fer bed.’ Soap quipps, with a snicker. Earning a pillow to the face for his comment.
Ghost who sits back and watches for the first time. He makes no comment as to whether he likes it or not. However he watched it the whole way through!
Reader! who starts hearing the group humming songs. One day in the common room she hears the melody of defying gravity being hummed and she pops her head in.
Simon, dressed in his basic compression shirt and cargo pants, mask and all humming defying gravity.
Reader! Who quickly whipps out her phone but Simon turns around so she fumbles with it as it clatters to the ground.
Simon (who Reader! can see) ‘s eyes are crinkled at the edges.
‘Bloody good song innit?’ Before taking his cup of steaming tea and heading back to his room.
Reader! Who just stares blankly at the spot he was just in.
‘LT isn't tone deaf?!’ She exclaims.
Or
Reader! who doesn't sing.
Reader! who isnt a singer. She'd never really known about wicked until Gaz and Soap had all but dragged her to the common room for movie night.
Popcorn in hand and a cup of (whatever beverage) in her hand, she sat down.
‘I don't think I'll particularly like it, I'm not too huge on musicals.’ Reader! mumbles, unknowingly about to eat her own words.
After the movie finishes, reader! who is all teary and sniffling,
‘They were such good friends!’
Gaz patting Readers! shoulder in comfort and Soap just handing her tissues. (It didn't help that she was on her period)
‘They sang so well together! It's like they were meant to be!’ She continues sniffiling.
Ghost who just looks on, making a decision to subscribe to Amazon Prime just so they could all watch it again. He could tell she would want to view the movie again next week.
Price who reassures reader !that the movie was only part 1 and that there would be more for her to see next year.
Reader! whos tears slow,
‘You swear?’
‘Yes love, there'll be more.’ He speaks in a soothing slow tone, careful of his words so she doesn't lose it again.
Reader! who sniffs one last time and then wipes her face with a tissue.
‘Can I have a day off so I can go-’
‘Do you wanna go see the movie again at the cinema?’ Kyle nudges her.
‘Ye we can all go together.’ Johnny smiles at the reader, rubbing her knee gently.
‘We have Saturday off.’ Price nods, the plans already solidified in his head.
‘Did you want to go to a sing-along play through?’ Ghost speaks up, voice gravelly as ever.
‘But, would you guys be okay with that? I can't really sing.’ Reader!, whos now embarassed because shes little more aware of the fact that she was crying over a movie. She's now looking at the boys with wide hopeful eyes.
‘Yes of course! I'll go book the tickets online, go drink some water and we can go to bed early okay?’ Kyle rubs her back before getting up off the couch.
They all end up going to the sing along and Reader! swears she hears a low voice that sounds like Ghost singing along.
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dollyichi · 5 hours ago
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OH KATSUKI
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bakugou katsuki x f ! reader ᯓ★ 3.7k words. m—dni. roommates + university au / f/wb / toxic themes (slightly) / creamp!e (don’t be like them!) / bisexual katsuki / krbk open relationship / ex!sero / slight ooc / mentions of smoking & drinking / not proofread
an entry to my “ milk and cookies “ event with the prompt #5 “i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that sweetheart.” this is my self request oops!
you just broke up with your ex, and your roommate’s boyfriend is miles away. having fun together shouldn’t be too bad, right?
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you’re sat by the kitchen counter. eating the reheated dinner your roommate left by the fridge. you just got home from a pretty rough night.
you’ve just broken up with your boyfriend, but that’s life. you’re sure he’s going to beg to get you back next week but it didn’t matter right now. the relationship was a mess and you were sure it wasn’t exactly love.
you hear a door open and you see your roommate getting out of the shower. “hey kats~” you say.
he places the towel on his shoulders heading over to you.
“you just got here? it’s interesting you’re actually home.” always sassy, but that’s why you liked him. it’s true, you’re rarely at home anyway. only there during exam season or at the morning. always outside at a party or with your boyfriend, now ex.
“yeah we broke up.” you say with a dry chuckle. he makes no response, instead goes to the fridge. “yikes. well that’s none of my business.” he says, not actually knowing how to comfort someone after hearing that.
the sad thing about your relationship ending was the constant sex. you were sure that was the only factor gluing you two together. he was a sweet guy, but you were sure getting your brains fucked out happened more than a proper date—and you’re sure he’s still got his ex flings on his contacts.
“you and eijirou are still dating right?”
“it’s an open relationship.” he mumbles, grabbing a glass to put water in. you’re kinda happy to know that though.
“hmm makes sense but, doesn’t it get lonely? i mean he’s in osaka and it’s a pity you’re not getting fucked while he’s gone.”
he scoffs, “who says i’m not getting fucked?”
“i know you’re home every night bringing no one over.” he shakes his head.
“tch. fuck off. what’s it to you?”
you didn’t know why you even thought of it. maybe you just wanted some type of comfort, or maybe you’re just an insatiable wreck. though nobody would blame you for finding the blonde attractive, if given the chance anyone would love to eat him up, you just wanted to know if he’d give you the privilege.
as for the ‘issue’ at hand, you didn’t cry after what happened. “let’s break up.” you repeat in your head from earlier. you didn’t know if you’re numbed from all emotion of romance but you always wanted something physical. exactly how your relationship with your ex started and now, you’ve broken up because he wasn’t being ‘a boyfriend.’
the breakup felt empty but it didn’t exactly hurt as you expected. it felt weird even. like a ‘so what now?’ feeling.
“then, let’s be fuck buddies.”
he flinches at your question. and even you were slightly surprised. still, you got it out.
“yeah right, like i could get it up for you.” though that’s a lie. he’s thought about it, once, twice. in the rare times you bring your ex over and he hears those muffled moans from the other side of your room through the wall— “come on kats. we could fuck when we’re free, how about it?”
“what even happened with that sero that you’re replacing him? or are you such a cockslut that anyone’s good?”
“we broke up so it’s fine. and i only offered to you.” he rolls his eyes and you laugh. “i’m serious! my door’s always unlocked anyway. if you wanna use your dick just come right in.”
“i’m serious, fuck off.”
you smile at him, getting excited that he’s glaring at you under the dim light of the kitchen.
“the fuck’s wrong with you today?” he thinks to himself.
you take your coat off and walk to your room. katsuki didn’t dare watch you walk away, however your suggestion lingered in his head.
you were probably drunk, you smell of alcohol and you’re not thinking properly. you were always nice to him, you were always sweet.
still, he finds himself texting his boyfriend to tell him what you just asked.
eijirou: hey baby it’s okay, you can fuck around with y/n i don’t mind at all.
he thinks about it.
you and katsuki weren’t too close to begin with. sharing this big condo with him was just for convenience. both of you were going to the same university, he needed a roommate and you needed a place.
you thought of him as a friend and he does confide in you every rare chance. eating dinner together, cooking for you while you clean the place. helping each other with some projects, not too deep not too shallow. he was a hot headed guy who’s in a ‘long distance relationship’ and sees his lover every six months. that’s mostly what he knew about you too, how you were always out with your ex boyfriend, how you were always on and off.
fuck buddies—you’re pretty, attractive, though sometimes unbearable but it’s not like you’re asking him for a relationship—like hell he’d break up with his lover for someone as crazy as you.
would it be so bad to have a bit of fun?
the next day you greet him like normal. wave at him in campus like normal, eat dinner with him like normal.
you’re giving him so much to think about and you’re acting like nothing happened and it’s slowly driving him insane.
he’s a man too, he’s got his own urges—exactly why eijirou suggested to keep the relationship open, as long as it’s purely for sex.
it’s been a while since he’s hooked up with someone either, and he’s not the type to really go out of his way just for it.
you did smell of alcohol when you brought it up, but you were the most straight forward person he knows. the biggest factor as to why he even let you be his roommate in the first place.
your offer was convenient. he knows you, you know him, he doesn’t have to drive too far cause you’re just there. your face is nice and he doesn’t mind at all.
“yeah…. i don’t mind.” he mumbles.
you didn’t think much of it the moment you turned your back on him. you didn’t want to be pushy, you didn’t like repeating questions either. so if him not acting on it is his answer then it’s fine.
“not going out tonight?” he asks breaking the silence. you tilt your head at him, “do you wanna go out? i don’t mind.” as if that’s his thing.
“nah just unlike you to be here is all.” you both were washing dishes. wiping the counter, cleaning around. bumping arms from time to time, it was silent, comfortable.
though you probably didn’t notice the slight bags under his eyes for keeping him up at night from your question.
“maybe not tonight.” he thinks.
nothing happened the next day, and the next. you’re acting too normal, only uncharacteristically staying more at your shared place with him. not going out with your friends, not drinking, though he sees you smoking at the balcony from time to time.
it was already late at night and he couldn’t sleep. you on the other hand is on the couch on your phone.
you’re fresh from a breakup, but it’s firm you just wanted to get off, no strings attached.
katsuki almosg felt pathetic from how much he’s overthinking this.
he reads a text from his boyfriend, making sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid at all.
eijirou: yes katsuki i told you i’m okay, i’m fine with it. i’d rather you be with y/n than some random too. don’t worry about it baby and just tell me what happens. <3
it almost hurt how casual it was but it shouldn’t—he’s in love with someone else. hooking up really wasn’t his thing, that’s why he rarely engages on it no matter how ‘needy’ he gets, and he’s not necessarily needy.
yet, somehow you’re getting him to be. you’re not even doing much but it’s like you’ve planted a ticking bomb in his head.
of course, he’s not gonna back down from such a good offer though.
he groans, getting out of his bed and walking over to where you were. his lover gave him an explicit yes. there shouldn’t be any issue now.
“hey kats~” you greet him, just like you did the other night. it’s sending shivers down his spine. “let’s do it.”
“huh?” you act dumb, knowing he actually agreed.
he clicks his tongue, “let’s fuck around.” impulsive but well thought.
you grin, sitting up properly to look at him from the couch. standing over you under such a dim light just like before. you didn’t think his presence would be so demanding like this. but he’s already wincing from your glare—almost crystal clear from the way you’re looking at him, how you’ve been wanting to eat him up.
you waste no time getting him seated on the couch, already on his lap while you start to grind on him.
you’re overwhelmingly assertive it’s so attractive. “how do you fuck with eijirou? tell me everything~”
his breath hitches when you start kissing his neck. getting sensitive when he feels your breath under his ears. “he tops.”
“that’s your preference? what about girls?”
“just a few times.” you hum. “usually oral or fingers. not often more than that.”
“kissing?”
“that’s the best part.” and you swore you almost swoon. you didn’t know katsuki could actually be cute.
he stops you for a bit, “are we really gonna fuck tonight?”
“well what do you want to do?”
he sighs, “just wanna feel you a bit.” you wait for him to make his move. you wonder what he'd do, what he likes.
“stick out your tongue.”
and so you do, moving your head to look at him with you tongue out. katsuki leans forward, taking the tip of your tongue in his mouth. his hands are already moving towards your chest.
katsuki fully takes your tongue in his mouth, sucking on it. you mewl against him—you never did that before.
katsuki pulls away to take off your shirt. “didn’t know you liked that.” you tell him.
“yeah? i like a lot of things.”
it was definitely like a reset on your part, almost like an awakening. seeing this new side of him, getting to understand and feel this way for the first time—katsuki was just so different from anyone you’ve ever been with, and from what you even imagined.
the cherry on top was seeing drool coming out of his lips. you should’ve just broken up with your ex sooner. and you’re so glad you never asked him to get into a threesome, that scumbag didn’t deserve to see someone as perfect as katsuki.
when your top’s finally off he takes a bit to look at them. “even your tits are pretty huh.”
this might’ve been the first time you’ve ever felt shy.
“take your shorts off for me.” you nod sliding them off slowly, making sure he sees every inch of skin that you’re revealing for him. katsuki can’t help but grin from excitement.
“thought you couldn’t get it up for me?” you say hovering over the bulge from his sweats. he rolls his eyes.
he holds onto your sides while you pull down the fabric along with your panties. his mouth’s slightly open when he finally sees your pretty cunt that’s shiny from the slick pooling. he chuckles, using two fingers to swipe between your folds, “you’re so fucking wet.” he says, moving his fingers up and down as strings of your slick stretched onto his fingertips.
you shudder when he stills on your clit. your move your hips, trying to get any stimulation from him. “too eager huh.”
he takes of his fingers causing you to whine. in a swift motion he carries you over to his room. “funny you chose yours.”
“don’t want plushie eyes watching me fuck you thinkin’ i’m their dad.” it’s cute that’s he’s trying to be funny.
"don't got a condom." he says as he lays you on the bed softly. wasting no time then to hover above you. "don't want you to use one." neither of you couldn't help but chuckle.
you're both just as needy.
“can you play with yourself for me?” his voice was raspy, breathy, almost needy. you’d prefer him touching you but him on top was enough to get your hands moving towards your clit. “yeah circle around it with your pretty fingers.”
you do exactly everything he tells you to. moving faster, slower. teasing your entrance while he pinched your nipples. he’s kissing the corners of your mouth while he asks you make yourself cum while he toys with you.
you never noticed the mirror on the top of his bed. you were rarely invited into his room, this is the longest you’ve been in there.
“what a fucking view.”
his back is so seductive, watching it move while you get off on your own fingers. the visual and the stimulation on your clit and his hot breath on your neck is getting you so sensitive—you’re almost there.
you’re almost shaking from how hot he’s being. “when are you gonna fuck me kats~” you’re already a mess doing this much. he’s stripping himself off his clothes and you’re getting so close the moment he’s flashing his happy trail.
katsuki hisses from hearing how wet you are, all for him. it’s just so different from what he’s used to.
“don’t wanna cum yet.” you say, slowing down your fingers. he pulls you towards him, maneuvering your body so that he’s on the bed.
you’re sat back on his lap, you bring your fingers covered in his slick towards his mouth which he takes in. sucking on them while he starts pumping his shaft. your breath hitches when you feel him moaning against them.
you wanna fuck him so bad.
he pulls away, lips now covered in more spit than earlier. katsuki’s getting messier each minute he’s so gorgeous to you.
“sit on it yourself.” firm and commanding, you’re sure him getting you to do the chores would be bad after this.
you replace his hand with yours, positioning the tip against your entrance. you’re surprise he even let you do this raw, someone so picky as him.
“f-fuck yeah…” he moans while he enters you. so slow yet so smooth, like a perfect fit. “i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that sweetheart.”
you elicit a long moan. you can feel him throbbing inside you, “fuck this is the best.” you hear him say.
you jolt when he pushes you down, back arching as your chest hits against his. you’re sure you could feel him so deep inside it’s driving you insane.
you’re panting, trying to catch your breath but he ignores you, gripping your hips to move you the way he wants, using you to get off like a fucking toy while you’re trying to get a hold on his shoulders. “said you wanted me to use my dick right? well aren’t you all bark.”
“your cock’s so f-fucking big!” bigger than your ex’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever fucked before.
you’re scared you could get addicted to this. you’re scared the moment you stop you’d ask for it every night.
“s-shit- katsuki-“ you couldn’t even look at him properly. you were so sure if you were eijirou you wouldn’t let him go. if you eijirou you would’ve been fucking him everyday.
he’s fucking you so good you’re tempted to ask him if you could be his second lover. you wonder would he be sweeter? more softer? would it be more intimate than this?
would he call you baby? what else would he do? would his hands touch you more tenderly?
he's handling you so well you're hoping this wouldn't be a one-time thing.
though underneath katsuki’s roughness is a man that’s easily stimulated. it’s sexy that your sweating, it’s sexy that your tits move while he bounced you on him. when he pulls on your tongue with his fingers when you ride him.
you sit back and show him your puffy clit, which he presses his thumb against, circling around the the sensitive bud. “you’re whimpering so much.”
maybe he’s getting carried away, wanting to invite you when eijirou comes for a visit. getting greedy thoughts getting you to ride him while he’s sucking off his boyfriend.
“h-hey focus on me.” you cup his cheeks with a pout.
he looks at you with half lidded eyes, removing any restraints he’s been suppressing for the past few minutes.
it’s getting so late and you’re still at it. you’re just that good. “you’re cute when you become a mess huh?”
his cock’s so big it’s still not letting up, even getting bigger with every thrust. both so focused in each other that he let his phone ring a few times before he picked it up.
“put it on speaker~” you whisper.
katsuki makes the swiping motion to answer the call, “sero.” he says.
he hisses when you clench on him tighter from hearing your ex’s name out of his mouth.
he’s always fucking ruining shit, but do you even care anymore?
you take his phone from him to place beside you. “honey~ i’m fucking katsuki~” you exclaim, wrapping your arms on his neck as you pulled him closer. katsuki looks at you with confusion, absolutely hates that you’re involving him in a feud he doesn’t care to be in.
then again, perhaps this whole ordeal got him involved automatically.
“y/n? w-what?” you hear sero’s voice break.
a new record, barely a week in and he’s getting katsuki to talk to you for him. "what a loser," you think.
you’re not interested in talking though. you've almost forgotten that your ex even existed the moment you got a taste of your roommate.
he tried to talk to you, call out to you it was so pathetic. saying how he misses you, if he could come over, only to be drowned out by your spews of, “oh katsuki,” or praises of the blonde's touch getting rougher each time your ex started to beg you to listen. it's almost bruising.
“you’re better than him.” katsuki’s sure he could hear sero’s heart break from the other side of the screen. his eyes were focused on the number of seconds of the call. only for it to end, knowing he’s given up.
he chuckles, “you broke him.” and yet he feels somehow prideful, an ego he didn’t know he had—how he’s fucking you while your shitty of an ex is struggling to get your attention, pitiful but exciting.
“nah he probably didn’t- hnngh~ get a shot with a girl that’s why he’s crawling back.”
“yeah? and i was sure he was fucking you good every time.” you yelp when katsuki changes positions. you’re now on your back again, watching him from the reflection of a mirror.
you’re such a mess, you didn’t even realized you cried.
“you made me want to fist my cock every night.” he says before thrusting back in. it was steady, hot, you’re sure you’re already melting as he picked up the pace. you didn’t know how much more you could take.
“your moans are always fucking hot.” he takes your legs to wrap it around him, “but it sounds better when it’s my name instead.”
you’re so close, he’s holding back so well. you’re probably the best fuck he’s ever had. “g-gonna cum-“ you weakly whisper.
his cock’s already twitching so much you could feel everything. “inside please- do it inside kats~” no matter how much you’re fucked out you still have it in you to tease him with that tone of yours.
it’s going to haunt him for the rest of his life.
as if it’s like a switch flips whenever you call out to him. how your tongue perfectly moves when you say his name, like you’re meant to.
yet you’re not his, and he’s not yours. you’re only just playing around, this was just to satisfy his urges and yours.
somehow, still, he didn’t want to let you go. and you’re the same.
he yelps when you pull his head down towards you, taking him in a sweet kiss. bucking your hips upwards to meet his as your movements turn more erratic.
cumming feels so much better when you’re kissing. all you could hear in the room was the sound of skin slapping against each other and your moans muffled from the kiss.
you grip onto him, clawing at his back and he didn’t care how much of a mark it left on him.
his thrusts become sloppier, quicker, and you feel your climax building up so fast. the knot in your chest becomes so tight.
“mmhh~” he moans loudly against you, pushing one last thrust before spilling inside, just as you asked him to. and you’re crying, feeling so full of him that you still wanted a bit more.
he whimpers while you tried to continue his movements, almost overstimulating him. katsuki pulls out and lays beside you. only to pull you close to him he plays with your pussy.
“look at yourself in the reflection for me. watch me play with your pussy.” broken breathy moans come from your lips as you bury your head further onto his chest. his other hand’s on your chin, motioning over your head to the top mirror. "such a fucking mess we made huh?"
you’re both sweaty, tired, yet he’s fucking you with his fingers relentlessly just to give you that climax you’ve given him so graciously.
“c-cumming~ katsuki~ 'm c-cumming!” it’s almost embarrassing how loud your cunt is.
that tight little knot in your stomach come undone, shouting his name one last time, your body twitching on top of his as you calm down.
“holy shit that was so hot.” you exclaim in between heavy breaths. "you liked it?" he asks you and you nod.
“then tomorrow.” huh? “i’ll fuck you even better tomorrow.”
“hah...” you breath out, laying on your chest on his to plant a kiss to his lips. “then we should let your boyfriend watch too~ to return the favor.”
“shut up.” maybe he’s gotten greedy for sure. he doesn’t even want to share you with his own lover after this.
can’t tomorrow come any faster?
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do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
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scary-grace · 14 hours ago
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#3 for roommates to lovers!! :D
Hi! Thank you so much for this prompt! As I alluded to, I went through two other versions of this fic before settling on this one, so if this ends up not being your speed, that's okay -- let me know and I'll post one of the others.
Prompt: “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” No quirks AU, female reader, Shigaraki and the reader are roommates, approximately 3k. ANGST. But with a happy ending.
CASUAL
You hear the key in the lock on the front door and try to scramble up off the couch, at which point the four shots of vodka you’ve taken announce their presence. The first thing to go is your balance, and you bump into the coffee table before tipping backwards onto the couch again. The next is your dignity, when you realize that your roommate and his Valentine’s Day date are about to walk in and see you, on the couch in your pajamas and totally trashed. The third is your control over your emotions. Your face heats up and your throat goes tight and your eyes start to sting, and that’s all before Tomura even opens the door.
Tomura snagged himself a date for Valentine’s Day. A really hot date, Spinner took pains to tell you, like it was something for you to be excited about. Some cosplayer whose DMs he slid into, who dresses up as the slutty version of all his favorite video game characters, who flirts with guys and girls alike but never seems to settle down. Tomura’s friends are all amazed that he was able to pull it off, but you aren’t. You’ve been roommates with Tomura long enough to know that there’s more to him than meets the eye.
And you know he’s got some degree of game. You’d have to, since it worked pretty well on you.
Or maybe your game, as weird and offbeat as it is, worked pretty well on him. However it happened, you’ve been fucking him for the last six months. It started as hooking up to blow off steam, because neither of you had been on a date in forever and you were both too lazy or bad at dating apps to find a booty call. Just a roommates-with-benefits thing. A little recreation. Casual.
You’re not sure where it went off the rails, but over the past six months, you’ve slid from not hanging out except when you’re fucking to hanging out all the time, from bitching about your friends and their love lives to trading loaded glances when it comes up, from texting each other hey you up from your rooms to sleeping in the same bed. It started out as casual, but it’s not casual anymore. At least not to you. You were trying to think of how to raise the subject with Tomura, and thinking maybe of doing it tonight, until he announced out of nowhere that he’s got this date.
You didn’t find out until a couple days ago, and since then you’ve been seething, or at least you tell yourself that the throbbing ache in your chest is seething instead of heartbreak. You’ve played it cool around Tomura, razzing him over the restaurant he picked, offering to let him borrow your hair products if he wants to do something special with it – except then he took you up on it, the bastard, and he left for his date smelling like your leave-in conditioner. Part of you is pleased by that, by the thought that his date might catch the scent and wonder if she really is the only one he’s into. The rest of you thinks about her getting close enough to smell his hair and decides to throw up about it.
You lock your jaw and swallow hard. As terrible as this is going to be, the only thing worse than them walking in on you in the midst of a single-woman cringefest is if they walk in on you throwing up. What’s taking them so long to walk in on you, anyway? Tomura’s still trying to unlock the fucking door. You picture his date pressed back against the door, the two of them unwilling to stop kissing long enough to get into the apartment, and a surge of disgust and anger and hurt hits you harder than the vodka did. Fuck this. You’ve had enough.
This time you’re more careful as you get off the couch, and you’re steady enough on your feet as you cross the room to the front door. Deadbolt off, latch turned, two seconds to brace yourself, and you wrench open the door. You’re expecting the two of them to fall over onto you, so wrapped up in each other that they barely notice the shift from vertical to horizontal. But you don’t see any cosplayer in the hallway, or smell anyone’s perfume. The only person there is Tomura, still dressed for his date, trying to unlock the door with the wrong key.
The two of you look at each other for a moment. You can’t speak for him, but your mind’s gone totally blank. Except for one thing. “That’s the laundry-room key. Not the apartment key.”
Tomura keeps staring at you for another few seconds, then looks down at the key like he’s never seen it before. “They look the same.”
“Yeah. And you’ve lived her for two years. When are you going to suck it up and label them?” Your frustration is starting to spill over, and it gets worse with every second Tomura spends looking at you. Why is he looking at you like that? Like he’s hurt – like you’re being mean to him for no reason, when you’re not even being that mean. You could be meaner. He’s the one who went out and got a hot date without even telling you, when – “Wait, what time is it?”
Tomura glances at his watch, then holds it out to show you. Seven-thirty. Huh. “You’re back early.”
“Yeah.” Tomura takes off his watch and drops it into his coat pocket. “Are you going to let me in or what?”
You stand aside, the wheels turning in your head with painful slowness. Tomura’s date was supposed to start at six. He’s back at seven-thirty. He’s back alone. That’s not what happens with a Valentine’s Day date where things go according to plan, and everything about the way Tomura’s acting right now says that things went off the rails. The last three days, you’ve been proceeding under the assumption that Tomura’s Valentine’s Day would be fuck-on-the-first-date good. It never crossed your mind that it might go badly.
“Are you going to close the door or just stand there like that all night?” Tomura sounds tired, but there’s an edge to his voice. “I guess I don’t have to ask what you’ve been doing. You can’t hold your liquor for shit.”
“And I guess since you’re back already, I don’t have to ask about how your date went,” you return fire without thinking. You shut the door, maybe harder than you meant to, and turn to face Tomura with your arms crossed over your chest, doing everything in your power not to cry. “Want to tell me about it?”
“Do you care?” Tomura picks up the vodka bottle, uncaps it, and takes a long sip. “I don’t think you give a shit.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” you snap on autopilot, but the longer you think about it, the more confused you get. “What have I ever done to make you think I don’t care about you?”
Tomura doesn’t answer. He’s too busy drinking half your vodka in a single swallow, unnerving you even more. “Hey. Stop. Whatever happened on your date, it’s not worth a hangover. I’ll help you, but –”
“Don’t worry about that. You’re off the hook.”
“What?” You’ve always helped Tomura with hangovers, way before you started sleeping together. His body reacts to alcohol like it’s actual poison, and there’s no point since you met him that you’ve ignored him when he needs help. “I’m not on the hook, Tomura. I do that stuff because I want to.”
“So stop wanting to,” Tomura says, but at least he puts the bottle down. “It shouldn’t be that hard for you. You’re good at not doing things you don’t want.”
“What are you talking about?” You can’t wrap your head around it. Tomura’s pissed at you. He’s the one who went on the date. Even if it didn’t go well, he still went on the date, so where does he get off being mad at you? “If you’re going to do this, say what you mean. It’ll be a lot faster, and after what you put me through –”
“What I put you through?” Tomura’s laughter goes jagged. “What do you tell your friends about me?”
“Nothing –”
“Right. Because it’s casual,” Tomura sneers. You’d believe it a lot more if you didn’t see his shoulders go tense, see the tendons in his neck stand out, hear the catch in his breathing. “Because I’m just some loser who’s still hanging around.”
“Because I don’t want to hear them tell me it’s a bad idea!” Your voice pitches upwards, fraying at the edges in a way you hate. “I don’t want to let them take something that makes me happy and ruin it. But maybe I should have, because I hate that I let this drag on so long, and if they’d told me it was a bad idea and I’d listened, then I wouldn’t be –”
“If it’s such a bad idea, then –”
All at once you’re fed up with this. Tired of pretending it’s fine. Tired of listening to him tear into you over something that isn’t even close to true. “I wouldn’t be losing my shit because you went out with someone else on fucking Valentine’s Day!”
Tomura blinks. “What?”
“You heard me.” You can’t look at him right now. You slump back against the door, your arms crossed over your chest, eyes averted. “Don’t come after me when you’re the one being casual. I’m not the one who went out and got a hot date.”
“That’s what you’re mad about?” Tomura demands. You nod, your eyes stinging. “Were you ever going to say that?”
“And out myself as the one who caught feelings? Are you joking?”
“No!” Tomura explodes. You look at him and find him scratching at his neck, hard. “That’s what I wanted you to do!”
It’s your turn to stare blankly, and Tomura’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. He spins away from you, still scratching. “I haven’t slept in my own bed in a month and a half. I can’t fall asleep without you anymore. You make tea for me if you’re the one who wakes up first and I kiss you goodbye if I leave before you do and even the stuff I hate doing is fun if you’re doing it with me. Except it feels like that because I’m in love with you. And you’re only doing it to blow off steam.”
The stinging in your eyes hits fever pitch. You blink and tears slip down your cheeks. “Tomura –”
“I thought if I told you I had a date, you’d say something. So I’d know one way or the other.” Tomura’s scratching slows, from frantic scrabbles to hard digs. “But you acted like you didn’t care at all. So I went on the date and she could tell I wasn’t into it and she gave me a hard time for leading her on –”
You hated his date on principle up until a few seconds ago. Now you’re actually starting to feel bad for her. Being on the other end of Tomura’s disinterest feels awful. “If you liked me, why didn’t you just say it?”
“I didn’t want to out myself, either.”
You both caught feelings. Neither of you wanted to admit it, but now you both have, which would be really nice except for how you got here. “So we’ve been yelling at each other over nothing.”
“I guess.” Tomura’s hand slows still further, the scratches lightening again. “Now what?”
“Uh –” You try to think, but you’re coming up sort of empty. “We just ruined our first Valentine’s Day together. Should we have make-up sex or something?”
Tomura snorts. “There’s not anything to make up. We were both stupid and we both hurt each other. We’re even.”
“That’s not exactly a no on the make-up sex.” You lever yourself off the door and cross the room to him, reaching up to pull his hand away from the side of his neck. The first time you ever tried that, he got mad at you, but ever since he’s let you do it. He lets you do it today, and you kiss his hand. “I just want us to feel better. It doesn’t matter how we do it.”
Tomura’s fingers curl and uncurl, like he can’t decide whether he wants to hold on. “I said I love you. Do you love me, or did you just catch feelings?”
You had that one coming, probably. “I love you,” you admit, and his grip on your hand tightens. “I should probably have warned you before we started hooking up, but I’m kind of shit at this casual thing.”
“Same.” Tomura leans back against you ever so slightly and you plant your feet in a hurry. “What movie were you watching?”
“Something dumb. We can watch something else.”
“Yeah. When we get back.”
“When we get back?” you ask. “From where?”
“It’s still Valentine’s Day,” Tomura says. “And you’re my girlfriend, so I should probably take you out.”
You’re his girlfriend. You’ve never had a shorter define-the-relationship talk in your life, and part of you can’t think past what a relief it is. But you and Tomura have never gone out, anywhere – whatever’s going on with you has stayed here in your apartment, barely even referenced when you’re outside of it. And you’re not exactly at your best. “I’m in my pajamas,” you start, only to realize how dumb it sounds. “I can change. It won’t take long, and I’ll be ready to go.”
Tomura’s grip on your hand tightens for a brief second before he lets you go. “Wait here.”
He disappears into his room, and you take the opportunity to cap the bottle of vodka and wipe your eyes. You never really got into it with the crying, and you can feel it lurking somewhere in the background, ready to ambush you when you least expect it. It’s been a hard night. Maybe it’s okay if you cry a little bit. Crying in front of your roommate-with-benefits is one thing. It’s probably okay to cry in front of your boyfriend.
The door to Tomura’s room opens. “Okay,” Tomura says, and your jaw drops at the sight of him. “Now we can go.”
You didn’t think much about what he was doing in there, but you assumed he was changing out of his fancy date clothes into something more casual. But Tomura’s skipped straight over casual. He’s wearing pajama pants and the League of Legends hoodie you got him for his birthday last year, and you can see the hem of a comically oversized t-shirt sticking out beneath it. As you watch in shock, he tucks his keys and his phone into the front pocket of the hoodie and heads for the door. “Are you coming?”
“Um, yes.” You find your own phone and wallet, detouring to your room to grab a sweater. “Tomura –”
“You look good like that,” Tomura says. He looks you up and down in a way that makes you think that make-up sex might not be entirely off the table. “I was just getting on your level. Where do you want to go?”
“I’m not sure,” you admit. “Let’s figure it out on the way.”
There are other things to figure out on the way, too. Like whose room is going to be your room together, and what you’re going to do with the other one. Like what you’re going to tell your friends, or how Tomura’s going to explain blowing his date with an objectively hot cosplayer so he can go out with you. Like holding hands – which way you like better, and how tight is too tight to hold on, and how fast is it acceptable to grab each other’s hands back after you have to let go.
“This is what got me in trouble,” Tomura says, inspecting your laced fingers as the two of you wait for the train. “Holding hands.”
“How did it get you in trouble?” you ask. “We never really do that at home, except –”
You trail off, your face flushing, and Tomura elaborates. “It was like the third time we hooked up or something. You probably don’t remember.”
You do. It was the fourth time you hooked up, the first time it was spontaneous instead of planned, and you were blowing him on the couch, whichever movie you’d been watching completely forgotten. Tomura was being himself about it, twitching and squirming and making all kinds of pretty sounds that he kept trying to hide, and you glanced sideways at one point and saw his hand, scrabbling desperately at the couch cushions. You had a free hand, so you reached out and held it. You remember being startled at how tightly Tomura held on, surprised at how quickly he stopped trying to be quiet, and when you finally drew back, you were surprised again at how reluctant he was to let you go.
It was weird, but you wrote it off, until the next time you hooked up with him and he went for your hand while he was eating you out. Then it was your turn to hold on too tight.
“I was probably reading into it,” Tomura continues, snapping you out of a set of memories that you’d really rather not be wandering through on a train, “but you doing that – it didn’t seem all that casual to me.”
“Maybe it was never that casual,” you admit. You don’t think you’d have started hooking up with him in the first place if you hadn’t already liked him at least a little bit. “I think I’ll be fine if I never hear the word ‘casual’ again.”
“Casual.”
“Shut up.”
“Casual,” Tomura says again, and you nudge him with your shoulder a little harder than necessary. You’d elbow him, but you’d have to let go of his hand. “We’re going out on Valentine’s Day. Is it casual now?”
He’s joking – mostly. You can tell by the way his grip on your hand tightens, the way his red eyes search your face with a little more urgency than before. “No,” you say, and you kiss him, feeling his lips curve into a smile against yours. “It’s not casual at all.”
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dreamsteddie · 6 hours ago
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Stretch Zone Part 2
Hi everybody! I'm back with the next part of my Yoga Steve Steddie AU. I've decided to call it Stretch Zone as a bit of a teacher joke 😅
Still not sure where this is going or if it will go further, but I will be officially starting a tag list after this installment so if you want to be added let me know if the comments or tags.
Part 1
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Despite his best efforts, Robin does not come with him next week to Chrissy’s yoga class. He tried to tell her, many times, that Chrissy was totally into her but she was impervious to his completely air-tight proof.
“She asked if I was your boyfriend and totally lit up when I said I wasn’t. She totally wants to get with you, Robbie”
“First of all, gross. Second of all, that is not proof of anything.”
So he came along this week. Mostly, it’s the same thing as the first class but instead of introductions, they just get right into the exercises. Chrissy is a good teacher. Kind, patient, and always giving alternative ways to do the poses for people who want more or less difficulty. Of all the girls Robin has liked, she’s definitely Steve’s favorite and he’s determined to play wingman.
Chrissy always leaves enough time after class for everyone to mill around and clear up their stuff, which leaves Steve plenty of time to meddle.
“Hey Chrissy!” he calls out, jogging a little to reach her before any of the vultures do. Chrissy is a cute girl and he thinks more than one of these guys is here is more interested in her than mindfulness. Probably some of the girls, too. “I wanted to thank you for the links you sent me. This one is much better than the one they loaned me at the desk.” He says a little louder than is probably necessary, but he wants the vultures to hear and think that he’s already got an in with the pretty blond.
“Oh, no problem Steve, I was happy to help,” she says. She really is tiny, he finds himself thinking. Steve himself isn’t the tallest guy around but she has to tilt her head all the way up to look him in the eye. She’s going to look so cute next to Robin, speaking of which. “I didn’t see Robin this week. Was she not able to make it?” Steve once again curses Robin’s stubborn streak. Chrissy was very clearly hoping to see the other girl today.
“Nah, she decided it wasn’t for her. I don’t know if you saw, but she’s kind of clumsy,” Steve admits. “She told me to say hi though. She’s always talking about how great your ideas are for your writing class. I think she said something about peer editing? I don’t know,” he says with faux nonchalance. Robin most certainly did not ask him to pass on a hello and she would be mortified to know that the previously anonymous peer edits she submitted for Chrissy’s last paper are not so anonymous anymore. Steve would feel bad, Robin was definitely effusive with her praise, but if he’s right about this whole situation then Robin with thank him later.
“Oh! Robin was my editor last week? I didn’t know that! That review was so thoughtful and kind I was wondering who it was. I’ll have to thank her in class tomorrow,” she says with a bright, excited smile.
Robin is going to owe him big time.
Mission accomplished, Steve becomes aware that he’s taken up a good chunk of Chrissy’s time and there is a small pod of people awkwardly loitering around, probably waiting to ask questions that are actually yoga-related. One guy in particular is boring holes into Steve’s head like it’s his damn job, which is…well, it’s a little uncomfortable but Steve can appreciate he’s being kind of annoying taking up all the instructor's attention.
He says his goodbyes to Chrissy and turns to leave, catching that guy’s eyes again and sending him a little wave and sheepish smile. He might as well try and be friendly; they’re going to be in this class together for the next two months, after all. To Steve’s mild relief, it seems to snap the guy out of his single-minded glaring. He watches as the guy blinks hard and turns a charming shade of pink, clearly embarrassed to be acknowledged, and give a little wave back.
The guy is kind of cute, in a wet cat kind of way. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a shirt for some band Steve doesn’t recognize with the sleeves cut off and despite the fact that he’s got long, curly hair he clearly didn’t bring any kind of hair tie because the whole thing has become one tangled, sweaty mess. He’s not the kind of guy Steve would expect to be taking yoga classes, but he supposes anyone can get into this kind of stuff.
With one last look at the strange man, Steve continues toward the door, mind once again turned toward making sure Robin is prepared to talk to Chrissy on Monday.
—---
Eddie can not believe this is his life.
Of all the things he thought he would do one day - write an award-winning song, buy his uncle Wayne a better trailer in a better town, find a man to take his virginity - yoga was never on the list.
Eddie Munson is not, and has never been, the kind of guy to do exercise that didn’t involve running away from jocks and preps he’d annoyed to the point of violence. In fact, he’s been adamant that he would only ever do recreational exercise of the non-sexual variety when the sun fell out of the sky and Andy Johnson from high school professed his undying love to him.
Neither thing has happened as of yet but unfortunately, his best friend is the surprisingly cunning Chrissy Cunningham, who is determined to make Eddie into a healthier person. Chrissy, a bonafide jock but also the kindest person on planet Earth, has tried every trick in the book to get her best friend to commit to a better lifestyle, but Eddie has always been stubborn to a fault. Even he can admit that his dedication to cigarettes, microwave meals, and general sloth is not the best way to ensure he lives a long, healthy life, but old habits die hard and he’s still too young to be thinking about his inevitable death. 
No amount of pleading, cajoling, or petty theft from his apartment has gotten Eddie to commit to anything for more than a week, but Chrissy isn’t his best friend for nothing. She knows him better than anyone and that means she knows that Eddie is proud to a fault and when presented with a challenge he can’t - won’t - turn it down. She traps him into a bet he can’t win and in all her cruelty, she demands that he sign up for her two-month yoga course at the rec.
Two months.
Eddie won’t make it.
Eddie definitely won’t make it if the absolute snack of a man diagonal from him doesn’t start wearing something other than the tightest pair of yoga pants known to man. Seriously, Eddie thought this would be bad enough when all he had to worry about was his stiff joints and complete lack of lung capacity and then this man had the gal to walk in and set up not 10 feet away.
 From the front, it had been bad enough. Droopy puppy eyes, sweet moles, a strong nose, and a fit body. And, well, Eddie is not a creep. He isn’t. But there is also an adonis of a man standing right in front of him wearing yoga pants and it’s kind of hard not to look but much to his dismay, or relief he can’t tell, the adonis seems to know what he’s doing and has worn the correct undergarments to keep everything from flopping around.
And then he turned around and…
Dear god.
Those pants can not be fucking legal.
Eddie spent the entire class trying not to stare like the creep he swears he isn’t and failing. His only saving grace is that he doesn’t fall on his face, but it’s a near thing, especially when Chrissy guides them into these weird lunges that make the back of Eddie’s thighs burn and the man of his dream’s ass look completely biteable. He swears Chrissy is torturing him on purpose. She’s probably trying to get him back for being such a brat about taking care of himself.
When the class finally lets out 45 agonizing minutes after it started, Eddie feels like a wrung dish towel. He’s sweaty and gross and he’s going to be aching in places he didn’t even know existed until next week when he has to do it all again. Seriously, fuck bets.
When he finally summons the will to sit up, he is once again treated to the sight of the most fabulous ass this side of the Mississippi. The equally gorgeous man attached to it is chatting to Chrissy, something about yoga mats that Eddie doesn’t care to understand and general pleasantries that he tunes out until his brain hooks on something very interesting.
Robin.
As in Robin Buckley the girl from Chrissy’s writing class that his best friend has been crushing hard on for weeks.
Very interesting indeed.
But he can think about that later. At the moment, he is more concerned with getting off the floor and shuffling a little closer to the front of the room for a better look at his future husband’s face. There’s something pleasant about the shape of his mouth, a thought Eddie has never had about a person before but is nonetheless true. There’s a curve to his smile that is present even as he speaks. Eddie kind of wants to kiss his smile. He’s so caught up seeing if he can count all the moles on the man’s neck that he doesn’t notice him turn toward Eddie until he’s wiggling his fingers in a little wave.
Eddie is suddenly reminded that staring at another man’s moles in the middle of a yoga studio is not socially acceptable behavior, and this man definitely saw him doing just that. He can feel all the blood in his body rush to his face in record time. This is definitely the most embarrassing moment of his adult life. 
Helpless to do anything else lest he look like even more of a freak, he gives a little wave back, feeling supremely stupid as he does. The guy gives him one last look before walking out the door.
As soon as he’s gone Eddie collapses back onto his abandoned mat and covers his eyes with his hands, too mortified to face the world. He doesn’t care if there are still other people lingering around talking to Chrissy and cleaning up their mats, he kicks his feet into the air and groans loud and long. Let Chrissy deal with the weird looks for him, this is her fault anyway.
A couple minutes later the room dims even more as Chrissy looms over him. He refuses to take his hands away from his face, not wanting to deal with her no doubt smug face.
“See something you liked?” She asked, unperturbed by Eddie’s childish behavior.
Eyes still closed, he says, “You’re going to hell. This is best friend abuse.”
Chrissy just laughs.
-------
Little reminder that I am doing a little fanfiction giveaway to celebrate 500 followers. If you want to enter, go to this post for the details!
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notforpenance · 3 days ago
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Hey! This is for the askgame, because I’m sure that I’d love any recommendation from you :)
💖 a fic you recently read, loved and why!
💗 a fic you’ve reread again and again and why!
my tastes can be a little all over the place, so i hope some of these interest you C: i wanted to do one carcar and one lestappen for each but then i found like five lestappen fics i wanted to say so you get a few more than one.
💖 a fic you recently read, loved and why!
You'll Just Have to Remind Me by the_e_sea (t, carcar, memory loss) this fic is still in progress, but so far, I'm loving it. carlos has antiretrograde amnesia which means he wakes up every day thinking it is the same as the day before, and he keeps going to the convenience store every night where oscar works to buy dryer sheets. oscar begins to realize that there's something a little strange about the same guy buying dryer sheets every single night and engaging him in the exact same conversation each time. when i first started it i was a little confused as to how it could be carcar if carlos never remembers what has happened during his day but the dynamic is carried out so well and it feels really natural and lifelike. definitely recommend it, i'm excited to see more of this one.
blood chem by @sediciii (e, lestappen, vampire, roommates) i'm a sucker for vampire fics (pun intended). this one is probably my favorite i have ever read. it's a lestappen oneshot. max is a vampire, and charles is his all-too-willing-to-help roommate. max looks forward to charles coming back to the room so that he can feed, and charles looks forward to letting max feed for... other reasons. it's very sexy and a little soft, and i love the dynamic between the two of them
💗 a fic you’ve reread again and again and why!
purpose in you by @charlescoded (e, lestappen, arranged marriage, dune au) it's a lestappen dune au oneshot. if you know about dune, charles is a member of the benegesserit and max takes on like a feyd-rautha-type role, and they have an arranged marriage. it got posted right when i was watching the second dune movie for the first time, so it was perfect timing to hook me in. i wish there were more fics in dune au because i feel like that universe has a lot to offer. i cannot express enough how much i am absolutely obsessed with this piece. it is written at a level of writing quality i can only aspire to ever write in my lifetime. the whole piece is entirely enthralling. it is the second part of the series, but this is the one i always reread. the first part is breeding grounds
Ruckus by @tylersayscool (e, lestappen, dystopian battle royale) let me start by saying that everything I've read from this author is so good, i highly recommend checking her out if you haven't already. this one is my favorite, here's the description because i don't think i can do it justice. "The students are taken to a deserted island, fitted with explosive collars, and given random weapons. They are instructed to kill each other until only one survivor remains. If no one is killed within a set time period, the collars will detonate, killing everyone." this fic has such a chokehold on me that i literally was quoting sections in my journal and dissecting them in like essay length entries LOL. the writing is so high quality and the plot is so interesting and unique.
Open my mouth, on my knees (for you) by @lovelylotusf1 (e, carcar) a little less than a year ago i was scrolling through the second round of F1 Kinkmeme submissions looking for oneshots to read and i found this one. funfact: my one fic "you're too sweet for me" was originally supposed to be a lestappen fic and then i read this piece and i was like 'damn i wanna write carcar' and i switched it to that instead. this is a carcar oneshot. here's the description: "Oscar has to deal with the consequences of a drunken confession he sent to Carlos. He gets more than he bargained for." i keep coming back to it because it has such a special place in my heart.
okay i will stop rambling now! there are a few more i would've thrown in but this is already super long i feel like, so i hope some of these are fresh for you to enjoy C:
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angeart · 10 months ago
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can u feed us some hybrid au 🤲
always!! (brb running around in circles, bouncing off the walls etc, excited)
i wish i knew if you want mimic stuff or general hhau (i certainly have both) (reminds me i should go and compile more mimic arc rambles. the next part is the aftermath!! it's been a hectic couple of days sorry kxcjbn)
you can consider this a bonus to the hhau mimic arc rambles part I, as I skipped this bit thinking maybe i'll make a mini post about it later. this is about the mimic learning there are places that aren't as horrible as this world. and that grian and scar are so different, because they're from elsewhere. (~1k words long, below the cut <3)
so here's the thing. the mimic gets attached to scar for various reasons. desperation, safety, right? but it's the kindness. it's the kindness that seals the deal.
touch-starved and never once in his life treated truly kindly, like he matters, the mimic keeps to scar like a lost puppy, trying to understand this. trying to wrangle with this feeling of being treated well? like an actual person that has needs and feelings. it's so wild to him. so strange. it hurts a little bit, but in a good way. in a way that leaves him craving more. (in a way where he doesn't think he can survive without it anymore.)
and it's so hard, and it's so skewed, because scar is threading a fine line of, basically, how to treat the mimic nicely versus trying to not hurt grian too much. since the mimic looks like grian and grian already feels lesser, like a burden, etc. like he could be replaced. like maybe one day the line blurs a bit too much—
and grian doesn't want to be mean to the mimic, either. he's just a hybrid in distress, trying to stay safe by any means necessary. grian recognises that, even though he hates these particular means. it's so hard, to see the mimic constantly around. to have him near not only himself, but near scar. to watch scar be attentive and gentle towards this look-alike.
but, just to be clear, grian isn't treating the mimic badly. he's just distant, and they have more ravines between them than any attempts at bridges. (there's this mix of really complex emotions, in all three of them, that are incredibly hard to navigate.)
anyway, that all being said.
one day, the mimic asks grian. scar is close by, but out of earshot, and the mimic is struggling wtih his feelings and comprehending who scar is and why he acts the way he does. so he asks, quietly. "how does he do that?"
grian is slow to speak to him. still uncomfortable. "do what?"
the mimic watches scar, kind of mesmerised, but there's an edge of confused trouble to his expression. "stay so kind."
and, you know. maybe grian's first thought is that this is about scar being a vex? vexes are meant to be scary and dangerous, after all. but no, no, actually, that's not it.
it's just that nothing in this world is kind.
something about grian and scar being from elsewhere. a much kinder place.
something about them never learning how to be selfish and cruel.
something about them never having to fight for survival like this.
maybe grian tells him then. that they came from somewhere peaceful and kind and silly. that the meanest things that could happen were pranks that were laughed off and cleaned up and made up for, never meant to be malicious. that it didn't matter who is what kind of hybrid. they were all free to do their own things and interact and wander, build and laugh and live, unafraid. (oh how that word now wobbles on grian's lips—)
he tells the mimic that him and scar knew each other before. that they come from the same place.
grian talks quietly, and there's such a stab of aching nostalgia in each of his words. (he can barely say these things.) (the memories of hermitcraft are painful; he doesn't know what happened to his home and to all of his friends. he doesn't think him and scar will ever get any of it back, and it's scary, and it's paralysing.) (but it also feels like warmth, to think about all of that—about him and scar somewhere less complicated, less cruel. a place that doesn't hurt.)
the mimic listens, bewildered, curious, horribly envious. he can't comprehend a world like that, but he can tell this isn't a made up story, an escapism fantasy or what not. he can tell that this is real and true and scar and grian aren't meant to be here, it explains so much about them, actually.
this isn't what the mimic expected of them, originally. based on previous encounters with hybrids. based on their wanted posters. he thought— he thought there's an avian with beautiful feathers (they don't look so beautiful from up close, broken and messed up and muddied), feral and unafraid with a vicious vex guard by his side.
and instead—
instead it's this broken pair, clinging to each other for kindness and life.
(how he wants to be a part of that.) (how he wants to also cling to kindness and life.) (how he wants to also burrow his way to a sliver of hope that existing can be more than just terror and frantic, exhausting survival.)
---
grian burrows extra close to scar that night and cries while scar holds him. talking about their home—about hermitcraft, about their friends—takes a toll on his psyche. and he finds the safest place to break down. (he finds scar. scar's arms are the safest place.)
scar doesn't question it. he wraps his arms around him and kisses his hair, happy to provide all the soothing affection he can.
and the mimic's heart hurts, because he'll never get to know what that feels like. to be safely burrowed in someone's arms. to be allowed to be weak and fall apart. to be so irrevocably cherished. (to be loved.)
---
and if the mimic ever asks them if they think they'll ever get to go back home? (an uneasy question, as it makes him think of being left alone in this hopeless, dreary world)
well— scar and grian both just go silent. (it's a too heavy question. destabilising. horribly painful.) (it's too much to admit they don't really hold hope. not anymore. not after all this time.) (the only thing they have left of their home is each other, and they'll fight this world tooth and nail to keep that.)
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awrkive · 6 months ago
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[TEASER] THE LOVE PROGNOSIS (m) — JJK.
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for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.
the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. that girl who thought the guy she met at 19 at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. the girl who thought that her boyfriend at 21 would finally be The One after he introduced her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. you’re the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.
but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
WORD COUNT 1.2k words for this teaser but the fic currently is at 22k words (heavily unedited). the final estimate is around 30-35k 🤓
WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, weddings and engagement themes, the angst is a bit extreme (medium level tbh) on this one, it’s the… yearning? one sided-love?, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, multiple sex scenes (will specify once the fic comes out), i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me. the full list of warnings will be indicated when the full fic comes out 🙏🏼 anyways warnings particularly for this teaser: drunk oc, implied alcohol consumption, germaphobe jk lol
NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wanted to do something for jk’s birthday this september and this is what i came up with 😭 i am so soooo so incredibly excited to announce this fic to you guys 😵‍💫 ive been working on this on and off since the last week of july and its currently at 20k words so its coming along really well 🫂 its gonna be a HUGEE HUGEEE fic since its estimated to be around 30k words which will be a first for me hehe <3 pls look forward to it and REPLY TO THE COMMENT SECTION IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST (pls do not send an ask for taglist request 🫶🏼) LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK!!!!! I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS <33333
[ TLP MOODBOARD ]
READ FULL FIC HERE ❗
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“Hey, swing me.”
You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.
“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.
“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”
“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.
“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.
Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it. A huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.
“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.
You laugh.
“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”
He visibly winces. “Touché.”
Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.
For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.
But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.
“Okay, your turn.”
Jungkook gives you a big grin.
“Nice.”
You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.
“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.
You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”
The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.
You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.
“What the fuck, __?”
You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.
Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.
Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.
“Let’s lie on the ground.”
“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.
You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.
Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”
You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.
Jungkook stops his rambling after that.
“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies. “The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”
Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him. As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.
You smile, going back to looking at the sky.
“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.
“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.
Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”
You chuckle at the irony.
“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”
You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”
That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.
“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”
“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.
“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”
“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”
You hum, eyes still closed.
“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.
The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.
Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.
“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.
You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.
Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.
“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.
You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.
“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.
Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.
You fall asleep easily mid-drive.
In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.
morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up
ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed
— your angelic friend, kookie
You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.
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© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2024. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works are not allowed.
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ew-selfish-art · 2 years ago
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Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?
Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.
Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.
Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.
Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.
But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.
Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.
“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.
“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.
“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.
“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”
“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”
From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.
Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.
They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.
Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.
Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.
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endearng · 3 months ago
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Brave
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: You're left all alone, but now you can think of some you want to share your solitude — and food — with. WC: 5.9k (I am so sorry) Warnings: brief mentions of Penelope's parents arch, grief and depression. A/N: Hello! I struggled so much trying to find time to finish this one. Let me know what you guys think! Feedbacks are highly appreciated! neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist
Honestly, hearing your name leaving someone's lip usually made Spencer eager to know what was going on, if it involved you — of course, he knew that you shared it with many people, after all, there are 8 billion people existing at the same time, so he could definitely come up with statistics regarding how many of them shared names with you. Furthermore, he worked with humans, dealing constantly with their data, names included, so yours could definitely be pronounced by someone close to him.
He just didn't expect to hear a chant. Something about you and him sitting in a tree as Penelope approached him in the bullpen kitchenette.
"What was that?" He asked, eyes wide, once he heard Penelope's voice. She snickered.
She repeated the chant.
"Garcia!" His voice came out in a squeak, frantically looking around. "Shut up!" It wasn't in his nature to be so rude, but he was desperate for her to be quiet, especially because someone could hear her.
Emily, apparently coming from thin air, creeped up on them. "Spencer and who?"
"G—ah! Nobody!" He jumped from where he was standing, not expecting someone else to join them anytime soon, almost spilling his coffee.
"I caught our boygenius with a friend." Penelope announced, proud of her discovery.
"What?" Emily asked, shocked.
Once Penelope noticed that she revealed something she certainly should not have and she saw the look on his face, she slapped her hand over her mouth, wide eyes looking at Spencer in an apologizing manner. She was just so excited to finally see Spencer in that scenario that she basically ignored his wishes to keep it — whatever it was — a secret. "Thanks a lot, Garcia," he deadpanned.
"What? What friend?" Emily pressed, a smile on her lips. Not teasing, surprised, perhaps, but she didn't have any traces of mockery in her expression or tone. She looked... proud?
Penelope had started feeling bad for running her mouth too easily, but once she saw Spencer's lips turn upwards in a small grin, she gushed, "Yes!!! I went over to her house to give her daughter's gift, I am her godmother, after all... So I was knocking on her door—”
"More like banging." He interrupted.
"And from my spot, I see our boygenius not so subtly trying to disguise something. Do not look at me like that," she squinted her eyes and pointed her finger at him threateningly when he opened his mouth to speak. "You were stuttering and basically left her all by herself because you got too embarrassed."
"Oh, no, Reid..." Emily couldn't help her remark, pursing her lips.
"What? What did I do?"
Truth was, Spencer was replaying the interaction in his head the entire time after Penelope had left. He had stood there, at the sidewalk, dumbfounded and mortified by her remarks in your presence, not really knowing if he should go back to your apartment. He was definitely enjoying getting to know you, but it just felt wrong to go back and act as if nothing had happened because he had just gotten awfully weird. The man had struggled with himself, his thoughts conflicting between going back to yours or keeping to himself in his apartment. He decided on the latter, not willing to put himself through more embarrassment.
What if you didn't like him like that and you thought he was a creep now? What if you just saw him as a friend?
Worse, as a neighbor?
"You should've stayed. I know you probably got nervous, but what if she got the wrong idea once you dashed out the door when you were seen with her?" Emily inquired, but Penelope, despite not being a profiler, understood right away that she was onto something.
Her eyes glimmered.
Spencer's stomach dropped. "Oh, no..." he whispered softly. "I have to go."
And he basically fled the room.
The women exchanged playful glances.
"I knew it!" Penelope stated. She turned her head in the direction he ran to. "For a profiler, for a genius, he sometimes is so dumb."
"And just like that," Emily snapped her fingers, "IQ of 187 slashed down to 60." she snickered. Reaching for the coffee pot and pouring some of the liquid into her mug, she remarked, "There is definitely something," Emily laughed. "Do you think we should help him?"
"Don't worry," she winked at her friend, "I've got a few ideas."
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Later that day, you got a call from Garcia. You were in your car, taking deep breaths and willing yourself not to cry out of frustration. The work shift had finished, officially, nearly an hour ago, but your boss held you back to discuss some projects that you were involved in. You had to call your dad to ask him kindly to pick up your daughter at school — you didn't see it coming, so you called him after about an hour of Olivia waiting by herself at school.
The unexpected meeting made you incredibly late and it turned your mood sour, because you always loved the car rides with Olivia after you picked her up, not to mention that she probably thought you had forgotten about her. Never. You had just started the engine when you heard your phone ring. You put her on speaker as you drove to your parents to pick up your daughter, who was now there. "Hi, Pen!" You greeted.
Despite the disaster, a smile crept up on your face when you remembered the last interaction you had with her. With Spencer…
"Hi, sweetcheeks!" She said back. You could hear the faint sounds of computers and keys being pressed in the background. "How are you?"
"I'm good, I guess. I had a surprise meeting so I couldn't get Olivia," you replied, eyes on the road ahead of you. "How are you, Pen?"
"Oooh, I'm sorry that happened. I know you're probably berating yourself for it, but it's okay, it wasn't your fault." She tried to lighten up.
"Yeah..." You muttered, a certain tightness in your chest you couldn't keep at bay.
"She'll understand. You are doing a fantastic job showing her the real world." Penelope comforted you. You blinked away emotional tears, grateful that the roads were calm and you weren't a reckless driver. You couldn't really speak, so she continued, "Actually, she is the main reason I called you." She revealed, making you chuckle wetly. "I really miss Olivia and I'm truly sorry I missed her birthday. I haven't been the best godmother in the world..."
"Don't worry about it." You dismissed it. "I always tell her you're a tech fairy who does magic with computers to save people. A real life hero," you chuckled. "She understands it." You whispered. Trying to keep that feeling in. Not sure if you were speaking to her or to yourself.
"I know, but, still..." She retorted softly.
Penelope frequently complimented you and Olivia. You tried your best to raise her to be a good, kind and smart person. Unbeknownst to Penelope, her comments made you remind you of right after you were left all alone with your daughter. The tech analyst didn't hear a word from you for days, but once she visited you and saw the place without a single trace of Olivia's dad, she understood it all. You kept silent, still trying to adapt to a world where you were lonely again. Despite the odds and unwillingness to open up to her, you kept talking to your daughter, even if she didn't truly understand it all. From her early years, you made sure to provide her everything she needed to speak like she does now.
Your own personal chatterbox.
A titter broke through you, "I sure hope so." You replied, rubbing your eyes at a red light. "I also hope you know I'm driving and I can't cry right now," you joked.
"Ah, right! Sorry, baby!" She exclaimed clumsily, true Penelope style. "All of this to ask if I can spend some time with her on... on Friday! Yes!" She paused and then continued.
"Friday?" You asked, uncertain. "That's usually when we go out together."
"Yeah, and I'm sorry for taking it away from you, it's just that I..." second pause on her speech, "I wanna make it up for missing her birthday and I seriously hope that creepy guys give me a break so that I can spend some time with our Oli girl." She finished.
Still uncertain and the tiniest bit jealous, you relented. "Okay, Pen. May I ask you where you are taking her?"
"Well... it's a surpr—we are going to an amusement park!" She paused and then squealed and you could hear clapping.
You snickered, joking along, "It's your funeral."
"I'll die a happy woman. That's all, sweetcheeks! Thank you so much! Gotta go. Prrr."
And just like that, she hung up on you. Little did you know, she and Emily Prentiss high-fived and made ridiculous noises to celebrate the execution of their mastermind plan taking shape.
Penelope Garcia, the singular rollercoaster of emotions that you are.
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Back in the bullpen, Spencer focused on his reports — not that it was a difficult task, but he felt cornered by Emily's outlook from earlier. Had he done the wrong thing? If he did, could he fix it? He wasn't the most experienced man in the world when it came to dating and women in general. He was on the brink of insanity, nearly going up to Hotch for advice. He ruled out Morgan immediately because he knew he couldn't get tips from someone who would definitely tease him, in a manner that felt lowkey demeaning.
Spencer had a lot of insecurities, and being socially awkward in his mid-twenties was one of them. Next to Morgan, he felt like a fourteen-year-old who didn't even know how to properly say hi to people. He needed some words from someone who understood him.
But who did?
Wrapping up one of his reports, his phone beeped.
Come to my lair. Treats are on the table :)
Penelope
Cautiously approaching the door, like there was a bomb inside, Spencer opened the door to Penelope's office. "Okay, so I know you were upset and maybe you still are a little because I spilled your... um... moment to Emily but I wanted to say sorry and ask you to please not be mad at me. I was just excited for you and I knew Emily would be, too." She blabbered once he closed the door behind him.
His ears turned pink and he tried playing it cool by reaching for one of the cookies that were in a bowl. "It's okay, Garcia. I was upset for a moment, but I know you didn't mean it."
She smiled. "Glad to hear that! Thank you, Reid."
He leaned his body on the desk adjacent to her, crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat. "So, um, how do you know her?"
"We met in college. She had my back when my parents... you know."
A pause. He hated that he, sometimes, lacked the sensitivity to approach people and that, despite being brightly intelligent, often missed possible outcomes for more personal conversations.
"I'm... I'm sorry I asked. I know it can be a delicate topic." He offered her a sympathetic smile, even though he was berating himself on the inside.
"It's okay. Thank you." Garcia smiled. "She always checked on me, made sure I was eating properly, that I wasn't... harming myself... She even went over to my dorm to tidy everything when I was too depressed to get out of bed." She took a deep breath. "I swear, Spencer. She was there. And we had just met." She finished, softly.
If Spencer admired the person you were before, now he was almost tongue tied, not having the wits to come up with a comment of his own. It truly shocked him, because, one: his experience with college kids had been totally different, of course, but two: what kind of person goes out of their way, even when dealing with their personal burdens, to help someone they just met?
Garcia searched his face. A small smile on her lips starkly contrasted with her crestfallen eyes. "Shortly after her graduation, she got married and, later, pregnant with Olivia. I was still around, on and off. I joined the FBI and had less and less time to hang out, but I always had and always will have a soft spot for her. She was there for me."
He couldn't help but want to know more. He knows it should be better to learn about you from you, but, right now, he was handed an opportunity he couldn't deprive himself from grasping, "Wow. That's-That's a lot of history." He said, in a low voice, a little hesitant.
"Yes. And you will know much, much more." Penelope said, confident tone lacing her words.
"Why do I sense you're onto something?" He inquired, brows furrowing with worry.
"Because I am." She winked at him.
Oh, no.
"What?"
"Trust me on this one, loverboy." She snickered.
Penelope Garcia, the mess you'll make.
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Friday rolled around with promises of a certain blonde bringing your daughter home by 9p.m. The feeling almost made you feel like a possessive mother who didn't let their kids have boyfriends. Or girlfriends. You were fine with it, by the way. Either. You just weren't currently fine with the idea of spending time away from her.
You reluctantly let Olivia go. Penelope stood behind her in your living room. You were crouching down to your daughter's height.
"Mommy, I'll be back before you know it," she said. Just like you did when she was first getting adapted to going to school. You scrunched your face, feeling like the most loved person in the whole universe.
You were.
"I'll bring you cotton candy." She promised, raising her pinky in front of you. You crossed your own with hers.
"Now you're just bribing me." You leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.
"Is it working?" Penelope chirped in, an easy smile on her face.
You giggled, looking up at her for a moment. "Maybe..."
"Mommy loves you, okay?" You said. "I promise I can take you somewhere even cooler than aunt Garcia is taking you," you joked.
"Now you're just being mean," the woman frowned playfully.
"Yeah, mom! Don't be mean."
"I can't believe you're turning my own daughter against me. And she's scolding me. In my own house." You feigned offense. Garcia burst out in laughter with Olivia.
Two kids in your living room.
"Okay, mommy," she said, finally, giving you a kiss on each of your cheeks, just like you did with her. "Bye bye. Say bye bye to Aunt Penelope, too."
"Okay," you agreed. "Bye bye, Aunt Penelope." you teased. Olivia was already walking out, ahead of you two.
"Bye bye, mommy." Penelope joked as you walked her out. Olivia pressed the elevator button as you and Garcia stood in front of your apartment, side by side with you, watching your kid wait for the elevator. Then, she looked you up and down, a knowing look on her face.  "You're totally a hot mommy." She winked.
You didn't have an answer to that, the remark catching you off guard. Instead, you shoved her jokingly.
"Get outta here," you quipped, flustered, watching her as she entered the elevator with Olivia, holding her small hand.
You waved as the elevator doors closed. You sighed when they were out of your eyesight.
Coming back to your place, you looked around in hopes to find something to entertain yourself with. Truth was that without your daughter, you felt a little lost. Sometimes, you'd get lost in your own head, too sick with worry about losing yourself in order to be sufficient for Olivia. The remedy for those thoughts were usually doing something on your own for yourself. Tonight, you decided to cook something.
After a quick trip to the local supermarket and some embarrassment on the self-checkout cashier, you made it back to your home with everything needed to make pasta from scratch. Maybe you got a little excited by literally having your hands dirty and made enough pasta to feed the entire apartment complex. You cut them in different sizes and shapes and cursed your dad for a moment for having taught you your way around food.
Giving it a better thought, seeing your kitchen with pasta hanging to dry everywhere, maybe it was an opportunity. You turned the thought of feeding the families who surrounded you to simply feeding Spencer.
You smiled at yourself, pleased with the idea.
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One, two, three eager knocks on Spencer's doors made him interrupt his Doctor Who's weekly (if no bad guys were forcing him to work) marathon. He looked through the peephole and found you, his neighbor, studying his door, probably to avoid looking directly into the hole, like it was an intricate work of art. A smile crept upon his face. He never thought he'd be so happy to be interrupted. Opening the door, he greeted, "Hi!"
A joyful "Hi!" was your answer.
You took a minute to look at him. He looked more relaxed, of course, but you came to the conclusion that he didn't own many casual clothes, because he was dressed in a dark blue Caltech sweatshirt and slacks. Funny matching, but it worked for you. Differently from what you usually saw him dressed in, he didn't appear so tired. He was glowing.
"Um, do you need anything?" He asked politely, scrunching his brows a little bit in concern as your silence became too long.
A sliver of doubt crossed through your features. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"
"No, not at all." He lied.
He'd take your interruptions at any time.
"Oh, that's great. It's just... I miscalculated the amount of pasta that I was um... making." You struggled to find the words, a little mesmerized by the simple act of looking at him. "Do you want to, um, do you want to have some? With me? I've been told I'm good at cooking." You finally asked, with a little convincing on top.
Not that he needed any. You had him at hi. Spencer felt disarmed.
"Yes. I-I'd love to."
"Great!" You cheered. "Come on. You can help me cut them once they dry a little bit."
He followed you into your apartment. Today, the atmosphere felt a lot different. You had music playing softly and the highlight was in the kitchen, where strings of pasta hanged from basically everywhere. There was still a small piece of dough on the surface of your kitchen counter, which was surrounded by a big, sharp knife, a pasta maker machine and some other kitchen gadgets that, surprisingly, Spencer didn't know the name of.
"Wow. It's really a lot." He thought out loud.
"Yeah," you chuckled. "I usually make small amounts, but there's no problem in freezing them." You said, glancing briefly at your watch.
"Oh, okay." He replied meekly. "I'm not so sure if I can help, though. I'm not very good at cooking."
"No!" You feigned exaggerated surprise.
"Yes," he quipped, furrowing his brows playfully.
"But you have to work for it." You deadpanned, looking him dead in the eye. "I tricked you. I only called you here so you'd help me with it. If you don't, you won't get pasta."
He raised both hands, joining your banter. Easily. Despite, despite, despite. "No problem. I like learning."
You scrunch your face, giving him the most adorable grin. "Okay, doctor. So, this small ball here," you said, pointing at the dough and rolling up your sleeves, "needs to rest for a few minutes. It needs to dry a little bit to make cutting it easier. I'll tell you how to do it once you have an apron on."
"Oh, sorry, I don't have any at home. I don't really cook." He mentioned it again.
"I thought so." You grinned. "But don't worry about it. I have a collection. My dad's a chef and everything he gives me as a casual gift is related to cooking" you chuckled.
Okay, so the miscalculated amount was definitely an excuse to have him with you. His heart felt like giving out at any minute. You wanted him there. It was almost like you had it all planned out, and Spencer watched as you moved around your kitchen so confidently and calmly, very much unlike his mind that was running miles per second. Spencer usually had a hard time calming down, but this, this was something else. He was alone with you and he didn't even know how to say anything. Simultaneously proud and jealous of your easygoing chatter, he decided that it was better to follow your lead and try not to be awkward around you than doing anything else.
Slowly being pulled out of his self-conscious and overall sad thoughts, he busied himself with watching you, instead. He smiled to himself. Again, despite, despite, despite. You grabbed an apron from one of your drawers and Spencer watched you quietly. You moved so effortlessly that he felt inclined to just sit and watch you in your own scene. In that moment, you were not Olivia's mother, not a character from a novel he imagined, not a publisher, not Garcia's friend from college, just a woman doing something she enjoys doing. And he was delighted to be present to see it.
Moving back to where he stood, you stopped in front of him. You held it out in front of you, almost waiting for his permission to get closer. Spencer nodded eagerly and you smiled. You put the apron over his head and he raised his arms, almost automatically, so you could wrap yours around him to tie it in the back, bodies mere inches away from one another. He somehow had the courage to watch your face the entire time, but you bashfully avoided his gaze, choosing to concentrate on the task at hand. Once you finished, you looked up at him, though. To offer him a smile.
But what caught his attention was the fact that he finally knew, now, what the color of your eyes were. They seemed a lot different than when he first saw you. Different shades swirled around your pupils in such harmony that he decided that, from then on, he'd associate these colors with you and with you only. You aimed your gaze at him with something so distinguished he couldn't quite decipher what it was, suddenly and momentarily losing his profiling abilities. Spencer knew immediately that he could never shake that moment from his memory. Then, he also noticed that you had a smudge of flour on your cheek, but he didn't have the heart to tell you to clean it up, too stuck in the warmth of your gaze. He thought of it as a reminder of what you were doing, the moment you were sharing together.
He smiled back at you.
"Okay, I guess that's it, then," you announced, voice barely above a whisper, finally. He felt both relieved and deprived from the sweet torture you put him in. He wanted to be under your spell for longer, but he worried he would be too entranced and make a fool out of himself. "First, I'm gonna divide it in half. Oh, wait. What do you want to eat? I have shrimp, chicken and minced meat. But I can also try to do something vegetarian if you don't eat meat." You blabbered inconsistently, jumping from one topic to another, our eyebrows flying to your forehead in concern for a moment.
"It's okay," he soothed you, "I'll have anything." He added softly.
You happily nodded at him. "Alright. So I'm gonna be a good teacher and tell you to use the machine to open it first, but a cook must be skilled enough to know how to open and cut pasta without one of these gems," you said.
He grinned. Cooking classes were not in his weekend bingo, but here he was. Not wishing for anything else. "I'm glad you're walking me through it." He said. "I can hardly boil an egg."
"What? I couldn't tell." You said, faking earnestness, while opening a piece of dough with a roller. You had your eyes on it, rolling the dough on the counter to make sure you'd open it completely. He was mesmerized by your focused expression. Looking at your skilled hands. Watching.
"Really?" He asked, lighting up.
"Yeah, I could. Sorry." You said, snickering, folding the dough on itself to start cutting it. The result was thicker strings of pasta, like fettuccine. "You look like the kind of guy who only eats outside."
"I am." He confided, trying to mimic your previous actions. "Maybe you're the profiler."
"Nah, just a real observant neighbor." He laughed. "Hey, you're doing alright." You told him once you saw what he was doing. Your stare was on his hands. Oh. His deft hands, albeit not accustomed to the task, worked dexterously, flexing the veins on his forearm. You shook your head lightly as an attempt to get rid of the thoughts, glad he wasn't paying attention to you.
Being with you, he realized, was easy. He condemned himself for overthinking the advice Penelope had given him earlier about asking you out today, because she planned on taking Olivia out. He had decided not to under the excuse that a case might pop at any second, but the truth was he was too afraid to be rejected. 
"Okay, so you can open the dough, Doctor. Good job!" You teased as you watched him use the machine instead of the rolling pin like you did.
"I'm decent at it, yeah," he quipped.
Spencer Reid being able to take and to crack jokes about himself. He decided then that he liked jokes, he liked your banter, but because you weren't mean to him.
Something in him finally started to heal.
"Alright." You placed yourself beside him. He gulped at the closeness. "See how I'm doing with my hands." Was it appropriate to answer that he hadn't looked away not even for a second? "You wanna fold it over and over. Careful not to stick it, though, so be gentle. You can use a little flour to help you. Wanna give it a try?"
He only nodded and you helped him fold it. He wasn't as skillful as you were — hell, your movements seemed rehearsed from how much ease you had at doing them. He was a little slower, but he moved in an effective way. "Careful not to cut yourself, Spencer." You whispered to him, to which he hummed weakly.
"Is there a right way to hold the knife?" He asked, turning his head to look at you.
Your reply was to touch his right hand, the one holding the knife, and closed his fingers around its base. Grabbing his left hand, you curled his fingers on top of the dough, and, slowly, pushed the knife down to cut it. "See?" You pulled the cut dough, revealing a string.
He wondered hastily if he could have some more time with your hands on top of his. Your delicate hands, even dirty, beat every single texture he had felt on top of his. Spencer couldn't answer anything. "Okay! Now we can set them to dry."
"Where?" He asked, robotically. You grinned.
"We gotta find somewhere." You chuckled. "By the way, it's best if we keep them away from the others." You advised.
"Why is that?" He inquired, intrigued look on his face.
"I, um, made some with eggs, you know, the traditional one." You bit your lip. "I also made a recipe with no eggs in case you had any restrictions."
Usually, he'd be speechless, not used to being treated like this. Not being one people usually thought of so intentionally, so dearly, so full of carefully. He noticed, though, that as he spent time with you in your kitchen, every one of your actions peeled away some of his issues. Then, "Oh, wow." He said, a hint of a cocky expression dancing around his features. If you kept that attitude, he might even become greedy. He remembered about your so-called miscalculation for the second time.
You finished up the meal in an instant, too fast for Spencer's liking. He was observant, of course, and you made sure to tell him about what you were doing and why you were doing every step of the way, like he was a child acquiring language. He was a grown man learning how to be around you, studying your every movement and engraving it to his memory, trying harder than he ever did when learning English (or other languages). Those came to him naturally. You, on the other hand, were full of patterns he didn't quite know yet — not that he wasn't dying to.
"Okay. We're done." You said, softly, plating the meal on two white plates. "Do you want to sit with me on the balcony?"
"Yes."
"Be there in a second. Make yourself at home."
His face lit up. Joy and embarrassment fighting to control him.
As he left with the plates in hand, which was a little funny to you, you cleaned up the mess in the kitchen as much as you could. You glanced at Spencer, meticulously placing the plates on the table to help you out. You couldn't control the sigh that made its way out of you, out of the very depths of your being.
Sitting down with him after you both ate to your heart's content, he complimented you. "It's not very often that I get to eat this well." He chuckled. "And you're a good chef. You make things efficiently and neatly." He said, looking at you. You looked straight ahead, longingly, into the city.
You shrunk your shoulders, a little embarrassed. Was he flirting? His words were completely different from what you used to consider flirting. Too analytical, too technical. "Thanks!" You exclaimed, albeit meekly.
Silence.
Spencer was rummaging through his big brain for something to say. You were, sort of, deflating from basically carrying the interaction all night long. Letting too many thoughts consume you all at once. "I'm not really an interesting person, so I'm not sure what I should say," he chuckled, a little disappointed by having your attention somewhere else.
Your heart probably doubled in size.
You crossed your legs on the chair. "I think you are an interesting person," you said softly, looking at him. "And I think there's no shame in being silent. It's nice. I know you like it."
His heart was making somersaults in his chest.
"Yeah..." he chuckled. “But I’d like to talk to you.”
"Try me! Penny said you can do magic, good ice-breaker. It's so nice, but so baffling!" You gushed. "I can't even do the classic trick, that one that you're supposed to be pretending to pull your thumb off. Olivia says I'm not convincing enough." You laughed, shooking your head and squinting at him. "Can you believe that?"
"She's a very bright kid." He said, amused. "It must be hard tricking her."
"Yeah, it is."
"Where is she, by the way?"
"Penelope asked to take her out. Pasta time was supposed to be time spent with her. But I guess you're a good substitute."
Again, Penelope was onto something. That was when he knew for sure that his theory from earlier was correct.
"Can I tell you something?" He decided to be honest, instead.
"Is everything alright?" You ask, searching his face for something that told you if there was something wrong.
"Yes! Yes! Everything's fine." He blurted. "It's just that, earlier, Penelope was, ahem, encouraging me to ask you out on a... date. I kept thinking about it and maybe I actually overthinked everything and ended up making excuses not to ask you out.”
You were taken aback by his words. You blinked once, not expecting his words, those words, and failing at trying to slow the racing of your heart and at stopping the smile creeping up on your face. “It's… it's no problem. Don't worry.”
Spencer couldn't help but glance over, listening attentively to your reply. Your words struck a softer tone, a side of you that was filled with warmth and genuine affection — he was estranged to it, not being used to being so understood. It caught him off guard. He watched from his seat, his heart still aching from feeling scared, but filled with a new emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint yet. “Would you, um, would you say yes?”
“To what?” You faked coyness, but you knew he could see right through you. You weren’t a good actress.
He smirked, encouraged by your playful mannerisms. “If I asked you on a date.”
“Well, yes.”
Oh, so it was bravery. He felt it completely, now.
A deep breath from his end. “Would you like to go out with me?”
“There's nothing I would want more.” You replied, tone full of mischief, but your eyes held all the truth he needed to confirm that he was actually going to spend time with you in a more… romantic, perhaps private setting. “Does that count as a yes?”
Spencer was hyper-aware of himself and his reality. Therefore, used to his own little life and the trauma and suffering that came with it, he had grown accustomed to the thought that romance was far out of his reach—  stories only told by books and didn’t, couldn’t exist in real life, in his life; writers were just too idealistic. Thus, being used to those thoughts, but secretly refusing to take them as the sole truth of his life, romance came to him in the shape of silly scenarios to help him fall asleep. Now, he was suddenly changing his mind, relieved to see that it could be real.
He was immensely glad for your bravery. He wanted some of it. Needed, even.
“It's the prettiest yes someone has ever said to me.”
“Glad to hear that, Spencer.”
“I just feel a little embarrassed by not having the courage to ask you earlier.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him, again, with an adoring look in your eyes, gazing at him, “we can share courage when things get too much.”
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“Hey!” Olivia greeted once Spencer opened his door after her persistent, but gentle knocking. He looked around, but you were nowhere to be found. He crouched down to her height. “Here’s a sticker. Mommy said you were very brave last night.” She placed the adhesive on his vest, a star shaped sticker. “Here’s other sticker. Mommy also said you were helpful.” She said, adorning his vest once again.
Oh, my God, he thought, even her daughter knows.
He chuckled, not having it in himself to let the opportunity to joke go. “Oh, so we get rewards for good behavior?”
Olivia nodded. “Yes, we do. When I get five, mommy gets me something I want. Usually cookies.” She replied, sounding satisfied with herself.
“Thank you, Olivia. I'm gonna make sure to keep them so I'll know when it's time to ask for my gift.” He said, ruffling her hair playfully.
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At the conference room, Aaron Hotchner couldn't help but frown at the sight of the extra accessories on one of his agents’ vest, almost interrupting his briefing in order to address the topic to quench his curiosity. “Reid, why do you have star stickers on?”
He shrugged, failing at disguising his happiness, the corners of his lips curving up. “These were a gift.”
He was brave.
490 notes · View notes
miamidorin · 4 months ago
Text
𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
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pairing ── kim minji x female reader
summary ── in which when a phoning live with minji had fans going wild and crazy for both of you... are you really not a real couple behind the scenes? (it had fans thinking.)
contains ── wholesome, whipped and clingy minji, a bit of a dense/naive reader, x-smau, hungry tokkis for georgie, idol au
taglist ── @flyingcigarettes
[masterlist]
── ── ꒰🦋꒱ ── ──
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"do you have any favorite lipstick, y/n?" you read. your eyes beam when someone finally mentions it, "yes, i do have one! it's a very very cute one, and i have been wanting to show this to you guys for quite some time..."
minji watches you standing from your seat and heading to get your bag. you rummage through it, not noticing minji staring at you with low-lidded eyes.
you come back with your hands intertwined and a large smile on your face, sitting back down on the chair with minji's arm resting on your chair's armrest.
you looked excited as you took another second to read the comments, "are you guys ready?" it was like talking to kindergartens. it made minji smile knowingly behind you.
then you open your locked hands, revealing a rather medium sized lip balm. "it's a caramel flavored, guys! one of my favorite flavors in the world is chocolate and caramel."
you rotate the mentioned item to the camera, making sure to get every detail you could get.
"since they don't have chocolate flavored, i took the caramel one! it's called 'nikky luck balm' and it's one of the infamous ones out there, so i just took it without hesitation." you laugh, opening the lid and turning to minji.
"i'll let you smell it first."
you said as you reach the open lidded balm to the older girl, who kept her eyes on you before averting it away to lean close to the item. she sniffs and lets out a small hum of content.
"oh, that does smell so nice. do you have it on you today?" she suddenly asks, leaning back to her chair as she stares at you blankly.
you blink before shaking your head, "i haven't actually. wait, let me just-" immediately, you turn to the camera and slightly get close to apply the lip balm onto your lips.
minji continues to watch you, covering her mouth with her hand and her cap slightly shielding her eyes from the camera, but anyone can catch a glimpse of where it landed.
pursing your lips together, you smile happily to see your lips gleaming and neatly applied. you were satisfied at your own work. "heh."
when you turn to minji, you give her a look when you notice her blank stare. "you want some too?" you ask genuinely, not seeming to notice what's going on behind minji's eyes.
minji blinks twice before smiling and removing her hand from her mouth, "sure." as if you know, you gently rub your finger on the balm and carefully apply it on her lips.
with the same finger you used to apply the balm on your own lips.
her lips are instinctively slightly parted for you to have better access on applying it, and you appreciated that small gesture.
but of course, you didn't notice her gaze on you.
after a little while, you sent a rather cute smile— unintentionally, but you were excited and satisfied— and leaned back to look more at minji's gleaming lips with your balm.
"hmm. looks great on you~" you hum in satisfaction, nodding your way as you slowly turn to the camera while closing the lid of your lip balm.
beside you, minji turns to the camera and smirks with one of her brows bobbing slightly.
fans were screaming in the comments and certainly squealing in real life, anyone can tell.
─────
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"you know, my mom..." you started, looking into her phone to look for your conversation with your mom. minji was leaning towards the camera to read the comments.
when she hears you letting out a small sigh, she turns to you to listen attentively.
"she keeps sending me money even when i told her not to." you sulk quietly, pouting at minji as you gave her your phone. she took it and read what you both were talking about.
"i told her not to send me money because they need it for their grocery every week. even dad tries to convince her that i'll manage, but like," you shake your head with pursed lips.
minji didn't even finish reading the conversation, already had her head to you. she ended up staring at your lips as you talked about your mom and dad.
until the very end of the ranting, she didn't take her eyes away from your lips but she had to when you turned to her suddenly, thinking that she wasn't listening to you.
fans always catch on these kinds of things, so it became so obvious that they're flaming the comments again.
─────
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you were starting to feel hot in your comfy jacket, then when looking behind for the remote, it was actually turned off.
"wait," you muttered quietly, standing from your seat and walking towards the remote to turn it on. but knowing that the aircon will take time to cold up the room, you decided to remove your jacket.
"girl, you didn't even notice the aircon was off?" you chuckle, sitting back again with your jacket on your lap, revealing your black tank top that was underneath the former jacket.
she shrugs, taking a quick glance at your top before looking at your jacket. "give." she only said before snatching the jacket from your hands.
you didn't mind, though you gave her a look again before turning to read the comments and replying to them.
and minji just burying her face on your jacket before putting her legs up and rest her chin on her knee with your jacket underneath her head.
─────
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after leaving minji alone in her live to buy snacks and drinks since you haven't eaten yet. she insists that she'll buy them instead, but you were stubborn and immediately left the room, leaving minji alone sulking.
talking and chit-chatting with the fans to kill time, and after a little while, you finally came back with the familiar paper bag. you grin towards the camera and immediately sat on the chair, handing the bag to her.
"i bought a lot, so choose any." you coolly tells her, leaning forward to the phone to read the comments.
feeling the eagerness, minji quickly opens and take out a snack that she first saw. "ohh, i like this one! dani likes it too, i think." she said, reading the name of the snack before ripping it open.
hearing the sound, you turn to her to see her munching on it already. you laugh at her chubby cheeks, holding back the urge to pinch them and instead, you shift towards her and opens your mouth.
minji glances, cheeks turning rosy. she takes one from the wrap and carefully throwing it onto your open mouth, her fingers accidentally brushes against your pink lips.
she tries not to flinch at the sudden shiver, but seeing you smirking at her while chewing the food made her heart erupting like a volcano.
though, she plays it cool.
minutes later, you were drinking your soda while minji was still eating with a new snack this time. you burped quietly as you place the soda can on the table, then you felt a soft nudge.
you turn to see minji bobbing her brows at you, "soda?" she mumbles softly, and damn, it sounded so small and adorable to you.
chuckling, you take the soda can from the table and hands it to her. minji takes it from your hand and drinks it directly, not bothering to distance her lips from the spot you were drinking.
fans, at this point, are destroying the comment section on live.
─────
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"i love this perfume because i got it from hanni's mom! she's the sweetest, i swear," you cry, moved by how sweet your member's mom is to you despite not seeing each other too often as you hoped.
you lightly describe the scent of the perfume and how you take it daily ever since you received the item. minji listens carefully and remembers something.
"oh, this perfume? ohh, i really like this smell too!" minji chimes in, excitement in her voice was visible as it got louder. "the members also like it, especially dani and she has never stop trying to go to you to take a sniff."
you both laugh at the memory of danielle constantly sticking to your side everywhere because of your scent. even during practice and you were a bit sweaty, but that didn't stop dani from, basically, breathing the scent of you.
(weird? ok.)
the perfume scent lasts longer than a day, and since you had it last night on your skin, the smell was still there, fresh as new. and minji— oh, minji.
moments later, she was already sniffing and smelling you while leaning on you. you kept yapping about your day and moments with your members, and you just let minji do what she wants.
even if that wants is her leaning on you and smelling your perfume with a soft smile.
oh lord, please help thy bunnies fans.
── ── ꒰ end ꒱ ── ──
567 notes · View notes
muniimyg · 1 month ago
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUPERNOVA // JJK ੈ✩‧₊˚
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01 | 02 | ♡ 03
— stuck in an unspoken love triangle, oc and jungkook face the end of it all
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au/genre:
mean girl au
love triangle
childhood friends to lovers
note: omg ! the end <3
//
jungkook had a plan. 
he was going to show you around the new exhibit, confess, and ask to be your boyfriend. his entire life, he waited for signs and for the perfect time—only for him to realize that there will never be a moment where bells ring and tell him; now. 
no. 
you see, after all this time—for his entire life—you have been the quiet. 
his quiet. 
all his life, it’s like his eyes only focused on you. everything and everyone around him was blurry and the only real clarity he had in his life was art and you… and as corny as it is; that’s what you are to him entirely. 
art. 
from your pottery, to the way you look, and to the way you simple are—you are his favourite masterpiece. 
the canvas gallery is where you two ran around as kids, amazed at all the pieces other artists made. so, it only made sense that this would be the place where he kicks his anxiety in the ass and finally fucking goes for it. 
so, he waited. 
and waited. 
…. and waited.
and right when he was about to call you—
hana showed up. 
she grabbed his arm and yapped all about how excited she is to be here with him. to that, jungkook shook off her grip and stepped away.
...
“what are you doing here?”
“___ gave me her ticket—”
“fuck that. hana, why do you always do this? why do you always take things from ___?”
with distant yet jealous eyes, hana replied; “because she has better things than me. i like her things. is it so wrong to like her things?” 
“are you insane?”
“maybe.” hana scoffed. “i don’t get it. what does she have that i don’t? we grew up together and did everything together—yet, it’s like… i’m not even half of her.”
“because you aren’t.” he growled. “you hate ___, right?”
silence. 
“that’s okay,” jungkook exhaled. “cos i fucking hate you. with all my being. ever since you blew out ___’s 14th birthday candles. ever since you always kissed the guys she was into. ever since her pottery business bloomed and you accidently knocked over a piece she was working on for two months. god, hana. i have and will always hate you.”
“shit, jungkook. is that it? are you done—”
“no,” he sighed. “i will never be done hating you for taking every opportunity to turn anything good for ___ into something bad. you want to play mean girl? fine by me. let’s fucking play. get this through your fucking head; i will never be yours but i will forever be ___'s."
...
jungkook gave you time.
partly because he was mad—mad that you gave hana your ticket so easily, mad at how quickly you folded like you always do. but mostly, because he knows how you are in moments like this. you don’t talk. you retreat, giving yourself space to breathe, to think. he hopes you’re using the time to clear your head, making space for him.
by the third week of awkward text exchanges—his dry "good night" met with your overly polite “you too"—and no more nightly facetime calls where he fell asleep to your voice, jungkook snaps.
he gets into his car and drives to your studio.
the late afternoon light spills through the frosted windows as he parks outside. his stomach twists at the sight of the closed sign hanging on the door, but the faint hum of a song playing inside tells him you’re there. jungkook knocks, loud and insistent.
for a moment, he worries you won’t answer.
that you’ll pretend not to hear him or let the music drown him out. but then, he hears the soft shuffle of slippers and the click of the lock.
when the door creaks open, you’re there.
cheeks flushed from the warmth of the studio, hair tied back messily, and streaks of dried clay smudged across your forearms. your apron is dusted in powdery beige, a damp hand towel clutched in your fingers.
“jungkook—”
he doesn’t let you finish.
his name on your lips is enough to tip him over the edge. stepping forward, he pushes the door shut behind him and closes the space between you in one fluid motion.
your back hits the sink behind you with a soft thud, the cool porcelain biting through the thin fabric of your apron. his hands find your waist first, firm and grounding, as though he’s anchoring himself to you.
“w-what are you—”
“i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters, his voice low and trembling, the words spilling out as though they’ve been trapped inside for years.
he shifts closer, one hand leaving your waist to cradle your jaw. his thumb grazes your cheek, where a smear of dried clay clings to your skin. you’re so warm, and so unbearably soft that it makes his chest ache. his other hand brushes against the edge of your apron, his knuckles bumping against the damp streaks of clay still drying on your fingers.
“jungkook—” you try again, but your voice falters when he leans in. his forehead brushes yours, and he’s so close you can see the strain in his jaw, the tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“i’ve had enough, ___,” he breathes, his voice trembling with something between desperation and exhaustion. “i’m tired of bending backwards to see you. i'm tired of people standing in front of you and i'm sick of you letting them. most of all, i’m tired of waiting for the right time. i—i’ve been in love with you since we were seven, and you know that.”
his hand leaves your cheek to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers trembling slightly as they linger there. “i haven’t done much to hide it, have i? i'm sorry. i've been a coward but... maybe i never did anything because i always knew how you felt about me too.”
your hands tighten on the towel, the wet clay squelching under your fingers. you glance down, unable to meet his gaze, but he doesn’t let you escape.
“look at me,” he pleads softly, tilting your chin upward until your eyes lock with his. the raw intensity in his stare steals the air from your lungs.
“please, ___... i'm fucking begging to you see me through this,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he leans his forehead against yours again. “i'm begging you to take my heart and mold it yours.”
and that’s exactly what you do.
your hands tremble, damp with clay and nerves, as you reach for him. you cradle his jaw gently, your thumbs brushing over the faint stubble along his cheeks.
then you kiss him.
jungkook freezes at first, his breath hitching in surprise, but it takes only a heartbeat before he softens. his lips move against yours, slow and deep, like he’s memorizing every second of this moment.
he’s hesitant—his hands stay planted on your waist, his grip cautious, almost shy. but when you sigh against him, his restraint snaps. his fingers curl into the fabric of your apron as he steps closer, pressing his body firmly against yours.
he bends his knees slightly, his arms sliding down to wrap around your thighs. with a quiet grunt, he lifts you effortlessly, settling you on the edge of the sink. your legs part instinctively, making room for him to step closer, his body slotting perfectly between yours.
you gasp softly as his hands find the back of your thighs, pulling you flush against him. your fingers slip into his hair, still streaked with clay, and he laughs quietly against your lips at the mess you're making.
his laugh fades quickly, replaced by a deep hum as he kisses you harder, with more certainty. the kiss grows messy, your breaths mingling and the faint taste of salt lingering between you.
when he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, and his eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. he doesn’t move far—his forehead rests against yours, his nose brushing yours as his fingers trace small circles on your thighs.
“so…” he whispers, his lips curling into a boyish grin as his gaze flicks to your apron, your hands still smeared with clay. “about that mug?”
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avis-writeshq · 6 months ago
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pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, roommate au warnings: reader is a pretty girl (YOU ARE A PRETTY GIRL !!!!!!) and she wears dresses !! feelings of inadequacy (aka, it’s so hard to find good guys now ☹️☹️☹️) she’s also taking her master’s degree at Georgetown  a/n: i love roommate reader so much guys !!! give me a million requests for them; i will write it ‼️🫶 wc: 936 part 1 | you are on part 2! | part 3
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“Date?” Spencer asks despite his knowing, watching as you wrap a cardigan over your shoulders and fix the bracelet on your wrist.
He’s not in denial about how pretty you are. He remembers it, even back when the two of you were younger. Everyone loved you– following you around the playground and doing whatever you ask of them. You’re the sun, he accepted on a hot summer’s day, drowsy from the heatwave while you ate a bright orange popsicle beside him. You’re the sun and I’m one of the planets you allow to be near you. 
He’s not entirely surprised either when he sees you again, as beautiful as he remembered, surrounded by people of all genders with starstruck gazes, all enchanted by your brilliant smile and embellished words. He’s not surprised either when you receive so many propositions of romance. A little jealous, maybe, because sometimes he wishes that you would share an ounce of your sparkle with him. 
“Yeah,” you respond with a soft smile, fixing your shoes. “Going out for dinner. I’ll be home a little late, so don’t wait up, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, fiddling with the ends of his hair. “You’ll call me, right? If you need anything.”
Your smile widens and you nod. “Of course I will. Thanks, Walter, you’re the best.”
His cheeks glow warm at his middle name and he clears her throat. “Good night.”
“Good night!”
Then you’re gone. He doesn’t hear the way you return back to the apartment hours later but earlier than anticipated, or the way you dump your bags at the doorway instead of putting them away in your room as you usually do. He doesn’t notice the way the shower runs longer than usual, or the opening and shutting of the freezer door or the clanging of metal spoons. He wishes he did.
*** 
“I give up.” You grip the phone against your ear tighter, your gaze dark with frustration. “Hah, you’re on to talk! You’re getting married in November! Yeah, well, it doesn’t help. I hear enough of that from everyone. Bye.”
Spencer flinches at the harshness of your tone. He’s even more concerned at your initial words. You’re giving up on something? You’ve never given up on anything. That’s one of your biggest charms; you know exactly what you want and you’ll do anything to get it. Giving up is simply not in your vocabulary. Except for now, he supposes. 
“I am so– so  sick of this,” You huff, slumping onto the couch beside him, hugging a Tuxedo Sam plush toy that he bought you for your birthday a few years ago. “This is so stupid.”
“What’s stupid?” Spencer asks cautiously, placing his book down and turning to you.
“Paget is getting married in November,” you say, half happy but half sullen. 
He nods, perplexed. He knows all about the wedding, especially since you’ve come home after shopping for dresses and decided to get his opinions on all of them. “You’ve been looking forward to it since the beginning of the year.”
“I know,” you insist, frowning. “And I am excited! But lately she’s been pressing me to bring someone as a plus one and when I said that I’d invite one of my friends in my class, she insisted that this is a brilliant time to invite a boyfriend. And she keeps sending me off on blind dates lately and I’m just ugh!”
Spencer pats your shoulder in an effort to be sympathetic. “They haven’t been going well?”
“They suck,” You grumble. “Rude, stupid, inconsiderate– the list goes on and I am sick and tired of being treated like an idiot on every date I go on.”
“I see.”
“I know what I want,” you continue, squeezing the plush toy in your lap. “I see it all the time. With my friends and the people I care about. I know how I want to be loved; I know how I deserve to be loved. I just don’t understand why it’s so difficult to find someone who would love me the way I deserve to be. And I see all these people falling in love and getting married and having these wonderful relationships, I can’t help but wonder if I did something to be so unlikeable.”
“You’re not unlikeable,” Spencer says immediately, frowning. How can you say something like that? “You’re the most likable person I know. There’s just a lot that you’re not willing to put up with, things that a lot of men do that you don’t want to put up with, and they can’t understand that.”
He relishes the way you smile, smaller than your usual ones, before leaning your head onto his shoulder. His heart leaps into his throat at the contact, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume. He doesn’t understand how someone could ever dislike you– you and your brilliant smiles and your sweet disposition. 
“There’s an old Buddhist saying,” he begins slowly, watching as you take to drawing circles against the back of his palm, “that the act of bringing you and your soulmate together was 500 years in the making. So you’ll find someone. Or maybe you’ve already met them.”
“You’re lovely,” you murmur, drawing a heart then a series of squiggles onto his hand. 
His cheeks glow hot. “I could say the same for you.”
He thinks of the letters he’s written for you but never sent, all stored neatly in a box. There’s one envelope that sticks out from the rest– your favourite colour with a heart wax seal. He decides against giving it to you for the thousandth time.
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
part 1 | you are on part 2! | part 3
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jihyoruri · 4 months ago
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 HYPNOSIS ahn yujin x reader
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↳ warnings idol!au, fluff, oc group, yn is an awkward loser and yujin is obsessed with the voice
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ECLIPSE had become the name on everyone’s lips lately, and for good reason. when was the last time yg entertainment launched a punk girl group? never. it was fresh, bold, and something so out of the ordinary for an entertainment like yg, exactly what the industry didn’t know it was missing.
yujin vividly recalls the first time she heard a track from the group. the song was called "amnesia." sure, the other members had incredible voices, but there was one in particular that caught her ear.
the girl didn’t get many lines, but when that voice emerged, it was mesmerizing, almost haunting. yujin couldn’t get it out of her head, if she could, she would have that voice on repeat forever.
it made yujin want to find out who the girl was and immediately ask her how did she acquire such a voice and not be the main vocalist?
rei called her a solo stan for that comment.
and sure, yujin could’ve easily found out who that voice belonged to, but there was something thrilling about the mystery.
she knew their faces but had no idea who sang which parts.
there was something fascinating about not knowing, just hearing that voice without attaching it to a name. the mystery made it even more captivating.
then yujin found out ive would be appearing on a variety show with none other than eclipse. as much as she was a little disappointed that her game of mystery was coming to an end, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement.
she wondered what the girl was really like. with a voice like that, she had to be flirty and fun, the kind of person who could charm anyone without even trying.
well…
“eclipse, introduce your names,” one of the mcs said, gesturing toward the four girls. yujin, seated with her group, who had already introduced themselves, scanned the faces of eclipse, hoping to figure out who possessed that voice that had her hypnotized.
“I’m arang the amazing leader of eclipse!”
too high pitched.
“I’m irene, the main vocalist of eclipse!”
nah.
“I’m yn.”
everyone chuckled at the quiet girl’s simple introduction. arang playfully smacked yn’s arm, and yn winced, looking up at the leader. “ouch, you know i have tender arms,” she said, earning another round of laughter from the room, including yujin.
“introduce yourself properly!” arang scolded, while yn adjusted the glasses perched on her face, the sides adorned with sparkly skulls. “I don’t know what I am…”
“she’s our secret weapon.” Irene says saving yn from another slap on her arm, “our secret talent.”
“yeah… I’m that,” yn said a little louder, causing another wave of laughter.
as much as yujin felt a certain pulling towards the girl, her voice was too low.
“I’m celestial! the charm of eclipse!”
that could be her…
“alright you guys can have a seat!”
“so,” the mc starts, “before we go into the haunted house, eclipse prepared a surprise performance for us!”
the girls of ive clapped their hands while yujin mind started racing, this is gonna be it, she’s gonna find out who that voice belonged to.
as eclipse began to sing, yujin kept her eyes fixed on celestia. she had to admit, when celestia introduced herself, she didn’t feel that pull, not like with yn, but still, she fit the image yujin had in her mind of the voice she’d been searching for.
but as the song progressed, yujin quickly realized: celestia wasn’t the one. the song was already a minute in, and she hadn’t heard the voice that had been haunting her thoughts.
celestia had sung a few lines, but it was definitely not her. irene and arang had also had their parts, and still, nothing.
which only left one possibility…
when the bridge of the song came, yujin’s eyes widened. yn was singing. her voice washed over the room, higher and mesmerizing, and yujin felt the same way she had when she first heard it through her phone completely hypnotized.
as they finished yujin was left speechless, not even clapping along with her other members.
“ah, so amazing!” the mc praised the girls, “so this is how it’s gonna go, you guys will be split into groups and a camera will follow you on your journey throughout the haunted house.”
“arang, wonyoung, rei and irene!”
“celestia, liz, gaeul and leeseo!”
“yn and yujin! you two will be in a pair.”
yujin looked at yn who seemed like she was in internal distress that she was separated from her members, she couldn’t help but find the slight pout on the girls face cute.
“there are different entrances that you’ll go through,” the mc continued. “keep your partners close, and have fun—or be insanely scared!”
as they began preparing for the haunted house, yujin couldn’t stop sneaking glances at yn. the girl was quieter than she expected, almost shy, which didn’t match the captivating voice yujin had heard.
and yet, there was something else. a slight awkwardness about her, sure, but also a tomboyish charm in the way she moved like she wasn’t trying too hard to be anything other than herself. 
she watched as yn stood awkwardly in front of celestia who harshly pushed yn towards yujin.
“shit,” yn muttered under her breath, and yujin couldn’t help but chuckle at her awkwardness.
“nervous?” yujin asked, her voice teasing.
yn looked up from fiddling with her belt, which had a large skull buckle, clearly using it as a distraction. “huh? oh, no, i’ve been through plenty of haunted houses,” she replied, her voice calm, though her hands betrayed her. “you?”
yujin watched as yn quickly adjusted her shirt after realizing she’d tugged it up while fixing her belt. yn’s slight fidgeting made yujin grin. “i get scared sometimes…” she admitted, her gaze steady on yn.
yn scratched the back of her neck, eyes flicking up to meet yujin’s. “cool…”
the moment they stepped inside, the air grew thick with tension. eerie sounds echoed around them, and yujin, who was walking slightly ahead of yn, jumped at the first scare, a hand that reached out from the wall. she yelped, stumbling back and nearly crashing into yn, who caught her just in time. 
yn quietly laughed keeping one hand on yujin’s shoulder while the other one adjusted the glasses on her face, “scared sometimes?”
the sound sent a shiver down yujin’s spine, her face heating up despite knowing yn wasn’t trying to be flirty. still, that low voice, so close, caused an unexpected flutter in yujin’s stomach that she couldn’t quite ignore.
yujin shook her head, “heavy on sometimes, wanna walk in front of me?
yn shrugged and went in front of yujin, seems like she wasn’t lying when she said she wasn’t scared.
so why was she fidgeting earlier?
even though she didn’t seem scared that didn’t stop the quiet girl kept muttering under her breath, clearly uncomfortable with the whole experience.
throughout the whole haunted house yujin watch yn in front of her.
she watched how yn awkwardly stumbled through the scares, yujin found herself strangely charmed.
yn wasn’t the flirty, party type she’d imagined. she was dorky and awkward, but in a way that yujin found oddly attractive.
every time yn tripped over something, or yelped at a random noise, yujin’s heart softened a little more.
“you’re really not a fan of this, huh?” yujin asked, glancing down at yn, who was still holding onto her arm, “you don’t seem scared though?”
“nope,” yn muttered, glancing around warily. “Inhate it, though”
a girl with a batter school uniform jumped from behind one of the corners causing yujin to loudly gasp immediately gripping onto yn’s arm who didn’t make a sound but had wide eyes behind her glasses.
yn unintentionally hooked her arm with yujin’s and dragged the older girl the other way, “okay that scared me, I almost shat myself.”
yujin couldn’t help but laugh at the girls words, knowing the editors would definitely have to bleep that out.
yn didn’t seem to notice it but yujin did, even when they were now far away from the girl yn didn’t unlink her and yujin’s arms keeping the girl close beside her throughout the rest of their journey through the house.
they eventually made it to the end of the haunted house, both of them visibly relieved as they stepped out into the light.
yujin stole another glance at her, watching as she adjusted her glasses for what had to be the hundredth time that night. yn’s messy hair, her slightly ruffled clothes, and that sheepish expression on her face, it shouldn’t have been attractive, but to yujin, it was.
as the filming wrapped up, yujin felt a nervous energy building in her chest. she’d spent the entire time getting to know yn in this weird, unintentional way, and now, all she wanted was to spend more time with her.
before yn could walk off to join her members, yujin hesitated for a second, then blurted out, “hey, can i, uh, get your number?”
yn blinked at her, looking almost surprised. “my number?”
yujin nodded, suddenly feeling self conscious. “yeah, you know, just to…keep in touch?” she handed yn her phone.
yn fumbled with her phone, clearly caught off guard. “oh, uh, sure. here.”
as yn awkwardly handed yujin back her oh won number, yujin smiled, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. she had no idea where this was going, but for now, she was content just having this quiet girl with a beautiful voice’s number in her phone.
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wildandsmile · 10 months ago
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commission idea🤌 vampire blue lock au characters like rin/sae/kuni/nagi etc and for kinks maybe like pinning/degrading ykwim i have a thing for neck biting hense why i love vampire au so much
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Rian,Sae,Kuni,Nagi. Bllk boy when you tell them it’s ok to bite you
Total Wc. 1.1k
Warning. Oral F receiving, fingering, biting, choking, teasing, degrading breeding, riding, jealousy , sweet aftercare
An. This is my first time writing for vampires so...... yeah
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Rin
He loses his mind, asking you a hundred times if you're sure about it, over and over again.
But once you reassure him, you're done for; he seizes every chance to take a bite out of you he can.
There's something about the way your blood tastes that sends his undead body boiling.
Oh, and he's a sucker for bloody kisses, the taste of your lips on his while your blood still lingers on the tip of his tongue, it turns him on like nothing else could.
And don’t even get him started on you guys are having sex he loves to feel you ride him while his fang are deep in your neck
You gasped out slowly, "Rin no more, pls I can’t take anyone ." As tears streamed down your eyes, you couldn't grasp how long you'd been at it or how much blood you'd lost. All you knew was that weren’t leaving this room anytime soon."Come on, princess, be good for me, just one more taste, please," he pleaded, not giving you any time to reply before sinking his teeth deep into your skin, watching as the blood rained down your neck."Fuck you taste so delicious and you feel even better," he groans as he rolls his hips, attempting to force yet another sweet orgasm from your already flowing cunt. He eventually lets go of your neck, but not before licking a long hot lap across your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss. It felt good, and the irony only added to your excitement as Rin began to thrust deeply into you. "Come on now princess, let me treat you real good for giving me such a great meal."
Sae
He's nothing like his brother; when you mention he could bite you, he's all in, almost immediately.
You even had to set a limit on how many times a day he could drink from you, fearing he'd drain you dry.
But oh, the teasing—he adores it, especially when he hears that little moan escape your lips. And how wet you get just form his fangs
He LOVES going down on you and nibbling on your thighs; the taste of your blood and slick combined makes his head spin.
He's a HUGE aftercare guy, coming back with bandages, snacks, the whole shebang.
"Come on, slut, you can do better than that," he says into your already swollen cunt, sliding his tongue across your sloppy folds. You tried to pull away, but he pushed you hard into the mattress, keeping you in place so he could plunge his fingers deep within you and curl them in just the right position. "Fuck look pet you’re getting our sheets dirty for me" he says as he begins to rub himself through his clothes. "Don't you think I deserve a reward, pet?" he asked as he itches the tips his of fingers against your sweet spot, forcing you to melt in his hands and moan loudly.That must have been his answer because soon enough he’s licking long hot strips across your thigh before sinking his fang deep into your skin licking up all the blood that trickles down making sure not to waste a drop.“ You’re so addictive pet, but I think it’s time to give you what you want, ” he said as he wiped the blood off his face and licked it off his fingers. “I’m going to have to cancel my schedule cause we’re not leaving this room until you covered in my bite marks.”
Kunigami (Wild Card)
• Right then and there, he takes you up on that offer, no matter where you are.
• Throughout the entire encounter, he's a big bully, teasing and touching you, yet not allowing you to reciprocate.
• He revels in seeing you in that vulnerable state when he drinks your blood, something about your clinging to him that ignites him.
• His possessiveness leads him to bite you in places where there's no way to hide the marks.
• Despite his bullying nature and slight transformation, he still retains the same caring demeanor, as evidenced by your favorite food waiting on the table the next day with a note that reads, "Make sure to rest well today, doll."
"Didn't I tell you not to push me away doll face?" he says, slapping your ass hard. "Only good girls get what they want," he says, and you whimper an apology before turning your face away so he doesn't see the fire burning your cheeks. But it doesn't last long as Kuni slides his hands up your skirt and rubs tight circles on your clothed clit, feeling how wonderful and puffy you can become with just a few touches."You really are a dirty slut doll face is that why you covered up your bite mark cause you didn't want the world to know what a dirty girl you really were huh” he says as he peels the bandages off your neck, revealing all the bite marks you worked so hard to hide. "I worked so hard to paint this pretty neck like my canvas, and you cover it up," he says as he wraps his hands around your throat, hooking your panties to the side and sliding to figure in rolling them until you buck into him. In that instant, he sinks his fangs deep into your collar bone. "Guess I'll just have to cover all of you in my bite marks so you can't hide them again."
Nagi
Is lazy he just waves it off when you tell him and goes back to his video game
• However, should he catch you talking to another guy, especially another vampire, his demeanor takes a different turn.
• He's typically gentle about things, so don't expect too much until he's angered.
• When he does get upset, he becomes more animalistic, perhaps even draining you completely.
• Yet, he always apologizes the next day, showering you with the princess treatment, whether it's playing his game together or enjoying a nap side by side.
"Who the hell was that love?" Nagi asks, his eyes shining a venomous glow. You don't say anything because you know it will only add fuel to the fire, and so that's how you end up locked in a mating press as Nagi buries his cock deep inside you kiss up to your cervix and his fangs even deeper into your skin drain you of what little you have. You couldn't tell if you were seeing stars because he pulled so many orgasms out of you or because of the blood loss."You’re mine, mine, mine," he says as he pushes your leg deeper into your chest and licking a long lap across your leg before biting you hard and watching the blood trail down your leg. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it, even if I have to bite and knock you up to do so."
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month ago
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a stranger's advice
for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event 'Good Fortune'
using prompt 7: a single kind word can keep one warm for years + mouth + 48, 13, 46, 27, 31, 18
rated m | 1408 words | cw: implied sexual content kinda | tags: modern au, different first meeting, flirting, eventual famous corroded coffin, eventual rock star eddie munson, sound mixer steve harrington, strangers to lovers
🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️
Eddie’s giving up.
They’ve done all they can do.
Jeff’s dad is threatening to cut him off entirely if he doesn’t go to college and Gareth’s mom calls him crying twice a week, worried he’s gonna end up homeless or in rehab. Gareth’s never touched a drug or more than a single beer in his life and works harder than any of them, but he’s tired of telling her that. Frankie doesn’t have the same passion they have; He’s just there as the guy who answered an ad for a bassist.
No record label wants them, most larger venues don’t want to pay what it would cost for them to get there, and the smaller venues are getting less crowded as more people flock to arenas and stadiums to see big name bands. They aren’t as good as they thought they were and Eddie has to accept that.
He’s feeling sorry for himself in the hallway of this record company first, though.
The other guys already shook hands with everyone, patted Eddie on the shoulder, and left. He’s alone now, and he’ll be alone for the rest of his life.
“Waiting for a ride?” A man asks from in front of him.
Eddie looks up and sees someone he vaguely recognizes as the assistant who sat in on their unsuccessful meeting 18 whole minutes ago. He’s stunning in the way that someone way outside of Eddie’s league usually is, but damn if he doesn’t get stuck looking anyways.
The man raises a brow and crosses his arms.
“Uh, no. Sorry. I have one. Just needed a minute.”
The man nods and then uncrosses his arms, sighing.
“You want some advice?”
“Not sure if it’ll do me any good. My band’s done. I’m nothing without them,” Eddie lets himself sound as pitiful as he feels.
“A 13 track demo is too much. Most places aren’t listening to more than five songs at all, and that’s only if they’re impressed by the first two. You guys sound great, and clearly have passion, but it’s not heard by the people who need to hear it,” the man says despite Eddie’s warning.
Eddie is a bit distracted by the way his mouth forms words, like he’s trying to hide an accent. This is LA. A lot of transplants from the south and Midwest don’t like people to know.
“And you know this as the assistant?” Eddie asks and wishes he didn’t.
“I’m the sound mixer. The assistant is out and they asked me to fill in. But I’ve seen how this goes enough to see that you guys have everything right except the part you need,” he gives a small smile. “Cut down the tracks and you’ll be set. You’ve got an amazing voice. Don’t give up yet.”
The man walks away before Eddie can say thank you or ask any follow up questions like ‘do you want to come home with me?’ or ‘does your hair naturally swoop like that or is there product doing the job?’
Eddie decides to head out, waits nearly 31 minutes for an Uber, which is ridiculous when he’s staying in a hotel less than 10 minutes from the building. The guys are at the hotel bar when he arrives, sipping on sodas instead of mixed drinks like they deserve.
“Give me one more shot,” he begs.
They look at each other. They look back at him.
“One more,” Jeff agrees as they all nod.
~~~~~
“Can’t believe there’s 46,000 people here!” Eddie yells as he’s running off the stage.
There aren’t exactly 46,000 people watching them; That number is closer to 27,000. But there are 46,000 tickets sold for this particular event, which means that 46,000 people have seen Corroded Coffin’s name on a ticket stub or event guide. It’s more than he ever expected to know about them.
He’s so excited about the set they just played, he nearly runs right into a guy in nice jeans and a sweater. It’s too fucking hot for a sweater.
The guy grabs Eddie’s arms to steady both of them and Eddie looks up and his jaw drops.
“Holy shit, it’s you.”
“It’s me,” the man replies, smirking at Eddie’s surprise. “Had to see what our label missed out on in person.”
The other guys are rushing past him, probably to get to the green room for drinks and snacks. They never eat before a show, and when they’re done, they’re ravenous.
The man hasn’t let him go yet. He could. Eddie’s balance is fine, his initial adrenaline is crawling to a normal level, and he isn’t gonna suddenly run into anyone else.
“Your advice worked,” Eddie says.
The man nods, knowing smile on his face. “I’m glad you listened to me.”
“It wasn’t just your advice though,” Eddie admits. “I mean, it definitely helped! But you actually saw talent. We were feeling kinda down about how good we were and you made me realize that it’s probably not our talent that’s the problem. We’re good. We’ve been good. We just didn’t know how to show that to the right people.”
“There’s 48 bands here this weekend, you know?” The man asks, as if that’s a normal response to anything Eddie just said.
“Um, yeah. I know.”
“We represent 47 of them.”
Eddie’s brows practically leave his forehead. “But…”
“I insisted they get you guys on the lineup when I saw the options available. And I couldn’t pass up another opportunity to talk to you.”
Eddie feels like he might pass out, which could definitely be from dehydration or overheating, but could also be the very hot man in front of him kind of flirting with him?
“Sorry, I think I’m having a stroke. I don’t even remember your name. You’ve just been Hot Man in my head for four years,” Eddie manages to get out, feeling his cheeks heat up at the embarrassment of his outburst.
Hot Man laughs, throws his head back and everything, like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
“Steve. I’m Steve,” he says when he’s calmed down.
“Steve.” Eddie likes the way his name sounds coming from his own lips. “I’m Eddie.”
“I know,” he laughs again, quieter, more fondness sneaking in.
“Well, Steve, would you like to join me for a drink in the green room? I hear the lead singer of Corroded Coffin requested only the finest PBR,” Eddie gestures towards the steps leading off the stage. “Or perhaps you’d enjoy a vodka soda.”
“I’d love to,” Steve giggles. Eddie feels like he’s won something. “But I am technically working for a few more hours.”
“Oh,” Eddie swallows around the disappointment. “Right. Okay.”
“But I’m staying at the Marriott down the road. If you wanted to meet for dinner later?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Definitely. For sure.” Eddie groans at his awkward excitement, but Steve is giggling again. Hearing a hot man giggle like this just does something to his brain.
“Great. Here’s my number. Text me so I have yours,” Steve hands over a business card and Eddie ignores his dick twitching in his too-tight pants. “See you tonight.”
Eddie’s mouth feels dry as he nods.
Steve is already gone when he finally thinks of something to say, so he groans and makes his way to the green room, where the guys are all spread out across the couches placed haphazardly around.
“Where’d you go?” Gareth asks him before he takes a sip of his water. He’s still a one and done drinker and Eddie loves him for it.
“Got a date,” Eddie shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“A date?!” Frankie asks, nearly spilling his beer.
“Don’t act so surprised, man. I date!”
“You haven’t ‘dated’ anyone since high school.”
“Haven’t felt like I needed to. I was busy getting us famous,” Eddie smirks, finds a beer in the fridge, and settles on a chair. “It might just be one date anyway. He’s probably a busy guy and I’m not sure I’m really his type.”
“Yeah, right. If he’s here, you’re his type,” Jeff laughs.
Everyone moves on quickly, which is a blessing for Eddie because he gets lost in thoughts about Steve pretty much immediately.
In the years they spent trying to make it, only one person ever gave him helpful advice. Only one person spoke of his talent and made him feel like they could still make it.
And now he had a date with him.
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flowerfreya · 7 months ago
Text
First Day
This is Part 2 of an office / cooperate AU for poly!141
Here’s Part 1 / Part 3
Pairing 141 x you
Tw: mean bf ( not 141)
The 141 leaves at the same time , and when they get down to the lobby they see that you are still down there in the cafe with a cup that is for sure empty and a large smart water on your phone. They are all shocked to see you there and and John is pissed but tries to breathe through it.
“What are you still doing here?” ,He ask.
You look up and is a little startled when you are greeted by 4 large guys looming over you. Your startled a little bit, “huh?”, you tired and you know you haven’t done anything for seven hours but your still not at home and you wish you were.
“What are you still doing here, bird?” John pushes out , he has an ideas as to why but he wants to hear from you.
“Oh , I’m waiting on my boyfriend , he gets off in 4 more hours” you say brightly , faking it until you make it.
“Do you need a ride ?”, Soap interjects, “ I get great gas mileage.”
“Oh thank you for the offer, but I’m okay”. You know how your boyfriend can get when he thinks that you are entertaining other guys , which you would never do but he doesn’t seem to realize that.
“You sure?” he questions, you want to take him up on his offer but you know you can’t so just smile and shake your head.
~
Four and half hours later you are passenger side of the car and he doesn’t even ask how your interview went just wonders what for dinner.
You roll your eyes , you don't even like cooking but its your duty since you don’t work and still need to share the responsibilities.
“Probably chicken and rice”
“Anything other than that?” , that pisses you off because one: you haven’t made chicken and rice for a two weeks and two: you don’t like cooking so he should take what’s he gets.
“If you don’t like how about you cook” you snap back.
“Don’t be such a bitch” he says casually. You know you deserve better than this but you feel stuck, you’ve been with him for 8 years, he was you first everything and while they has been many breaks within your relationship you never strayed and hopefully he hasn’t either (he has break or not).
You get home , you make dinner you don’t really want to make , have a sex with a guy you don’t really want to have sex with and go to sleep in a bed you really don’t want to sleep in.
The call comes in the morning at 8:30 am sharp , your so excited you have an issue answering the phone so it take a couple of rings beofre the sliding your thumb across the screen.
“Hello”
“Good morning , this John Price from the interview yesterday” his voice sounds so nice and low over the phone and you honestly love and it take you second to remember to say something back.
“Yes, that’s me”
“We would like to offer you a position as receptionist associate”
“Yes!”
“Woah, bird slow down, you need to hear my offer and then ask some questions”
“Oh okay sure”. So you listen to him talk and do a spiel that sounds almost robotic. He ask if you want to negotiate for the salary. No you say. Honey, you should negotiate he says. So you ask for a dollar more than offered and he says that will be fine.
“When can you start ? “ he ask
“Immediately”
“Today?”
“Ummm I guess not immediately, my boyfriend has the car today”
“I’ll call you a car” he says easily.
“Oh sure, how long do I have”
“Can you be ready in 30 minutes” . No. You cannot, but you say, “Sure”, in the most preppy voice as possible, you can feel the aniexty ramping up.
When you get off the phone it’s a mad scramble to find an outfit , which of course nothing fit rights and everything is wrinkly. You do your hair but you need a reti and your hair is fuzzy so you just leave it down. Your make up is not turning out right and you forgot to powder your makeup so now it’s going to crease. And you didn’t have breakfast but still has coffee so now your going to have to go the bathroom in 20 minutes and it’s not going to be fun.
And your sweating. A lot.
You just finished with your routine by the time you get the text from the number that called you this morning
>>the car is here for you.
You thumbs up the message, rushing out the door with your tote bag.
You slide into the backseat of the car because you think it’s a rideshare.
“What are you doing back there? Sit up here with me”. You look up and see Soap looking at your through the rear view mirror and shoot him a smile slide out of the backseat and move to the front seat.
“I didnt know this is what Mr. John meant when he said he was going to send a car”
“Mr. John,eh”
“ I just want to be respectful,” you say with a laugh.
“Hen , he will love that”
~
By the time you get to the office you are a bundle of nerves , you hate being the new girl , you also hate not being good at your job. You know what happens when you get a new job but you can still hate it. You are picking at your cuticles which is a nervous tick that you have, you follow Johnny up the office space and sit on the sofa next to the reception and wait for John to call you into his office. You do the basic onboarding task with and thankfully Kyle which you now know as “Gaz” is HR and that’s why he’s in the annex. After you are done with John you get sent back there and complete the rest of the task and that when you get shown your desk at reception.
“You can decorate it however you want”
“Really” You’ve never had a cubicle or a desk that you can decorate however you want. You're so excited to go to TJ Maxx after work and spend the money you don’t have . You sit at the desk and get started with making your system to work. Making a new voicemail message, making a new email signature and distro list. You look after answering the phone and having to assign to a rep and see a tall man with a surgery mask staring back at. You remember when you got the tour of that being Simon Riley. You give him a big smile and wave nd then point to the phone and then to you then to him and nods once, you transfer the call hopefully to Simon but then you hear Johns phone ring and you internally cringe, already knowing that you transferred the call to the wrong office.
“This is Price , what can I do for ya?” you hear and want the floor to swallow you up. You look over at Simon and his eyes widening and then is followed by his shoulders shaking and great hes laughing at you.
“Hen, a word ? “ You look up and see John in doorway, leaning against in that sexy way that guys do and you stand up from your desk with you head down and head over. You squeeze by him to get into the office and he shuts the door behind you.
“Please have seat , do you know how to- “ You quickly cut him off and start to explain how your still getting used to transferring calls and that you know Simon sits next to Soap but Soap real name is John but also called Johnny and then everyone's name is blinking an-
“Your not in trouble … did anyone teach how to use the phones?” You shake your head, and then he teaches you, like actually teaches you how to do things, and its the best first day you ever had.
~
You forgot to tell your boyfriend you had to work, and when he got home without you being there he called you. Your phone was on silent. In your purse. He has your location.
The door slam opens with the blinds bouncing on the door causing you be look and be startled. “Where the hell have you been” he demands , you know hes mad , his face is red amd his hair look like he ran his hand through it multiple times and you know for a fact the car is park half haphazardly taking up two spots.
Your used to this attitude and you make sure you stay perfectly still but not too defensive because it will make it worse but you’ve never experienced it at work. You glance over to your coworkers: John standing up in his doorway, Soap moving towards your desk, and Simon watching from his desk , he’s alert and you can’t see his hands.
“I’ve been here, they wanted me to start today”, you smile hoping to pacify him. You start to get stuff ready already knowing that you are about to leave just so he won’t embarrass you anymore. “I’m sorry it was all so sudden, you know”, ending in a nervous laughter.
“I’m not fucking laughing”, he says your name with so much force , you lean back as if that will get you away from him.
“I know” , you say softly, moving around the desk and putting your jacket on.
You look around and thank them for such a good first day.
“You okay ?”, John ask you with a tilt of his head trying to look you in the eye.
“She fine”, your boyfriend answered for you. You know you have tears in your eyes and if you were lighter you would be flustered but all there is to show for it is sweaty armpits. You nod you head and smile at him.
“I will see you guys tomorrow , have a nice rest of your day” , just as your boyfriend grabs you by the arm and drags you out of there.
~
John glances at Soap and then Simon and nods his head towards annex. They need to have a little chat about the receptionist and her little boyfriend.
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