#mostly cause I’m probably not gonna ever finish this au’s story | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

titan-fodder · 4 years ago

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Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys.

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable.

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party.

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that.

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now.

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought.

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!"

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening.

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?"

More cheers, more hollers.

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!"

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day.

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse.

Again—you fucking hate frat boys.

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst.

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer.

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt.

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team.

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!"

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Hell no!"

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike."

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving."

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed.

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?"

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly."

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer.

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little.

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?"

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along.

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though.

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?"

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer."

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers.

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in.

He does, and you let out a breath of relief.

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?"

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?"

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you."

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs.

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue.

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?"

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself."

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon.

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip.

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice.

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach.

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum.

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!"

"Ayyy, waterfall!"

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced.

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch.

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up."

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game.

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards.

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace.

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup.

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you.

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts.

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely.

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you.

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before.

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team?

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you.

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out.

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult.

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes.

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses.

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way.

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls.

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you.

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc.

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover.

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall.

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster.

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him.

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them.

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it.

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms.

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees.

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested.

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins.

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?”

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away.

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him.

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave.

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning.

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you.

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too.

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was.

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips.

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble.

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere.

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out.

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper.

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind.

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind.

“Holy—”

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs.

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass.

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately.

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress.

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan.

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you.

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it.

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to.

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door.

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias.

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again.

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot.

Is still hot.

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong.

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner.

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits.

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face.

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you.

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago.

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head.

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick.

God dammit, why is he so sexy?

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so...

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body.

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face.

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted.

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip.

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock.

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion.

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth.

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue.

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you.

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward.

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot.

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit.

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to.

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine.

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts.

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight."

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you.

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed.

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach.

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression.

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support.

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot.

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee."

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out.

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side.

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth.

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like.

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?"

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!"

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together.

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave.

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it.

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove.

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?"

And, there's that point.

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request.

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea.

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times.

But, it needs to stop.

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth.

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer.

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call.

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven.

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it.

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them.

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious.

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before.

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods.

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated.

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself.

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee.

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much.

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully.

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?"

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to.

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point.

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you.

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie.

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal."

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended.

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards.

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day."

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face.

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias."

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps.

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick.

"You have any classes?" You ask.

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place.

"Sucks," is all you can come up with.

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?"

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'.

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?"

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals.

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it.

"God dammit."

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear.

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to."

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan.

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole.

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane.

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name.

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit.

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air.

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess.

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat.

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate.

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

#miche zacharias x reader #mike zacharias x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #mels prima vista #mels frat house

422 notes · View notes

tipolover22 · 3 years ago

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AO3 GAME

So, I was tagged by my wonderful friend (I know we don’t talk much, but I still consider you a friend) @etherealbutterflie !!!! Thank you so much for tagging me in this!!! I usually don’t do these (Mostly because my adhd makes me procrastinate for so long that it’s too late to do it when I finally want to), but I really wanted to do this one because it sounded like fun! I love talking about my writing! Here we go!!!

How Many Works Do You Have On AO3?

I have 9 works on AO3 currently, and (Just because I want to mention them) I have three other fics of FF.net.

2. What Is Your Total AO3 Wordcount?

It’s 370,348. Jesus fucking christ. I did not know that until now. That’s...that’s a lot of words XD. (Excuse me while I go cry for second because my stupid spotify decided to play “Go find out for me”, like seriously?!?!?) Anyway, out of curiosity, I also added the word count from FF.net and that all together equals 474,309. My fucking god. I write a lot for someone who’s only ever finished, like, 2 fics XD

3. How Many Fandoms Have You Written For and What Are They?

I have written for 6 fandoms in total. Those are...

Luca

Coco

How To Train Your Dragon

DreamWorks Trolls

Gravity Falls

Kung Fu Panda

4. What Are Your Top 5 Fics By Kudos?

Ok, so, Here we go!!

Betrothed (Trolls) with 853 kudos

Siempre (Coco) comes in 2nd with 245 kudos!

Listen To Your Heart (Trolls) is in 3rd with 153!

Uncharted Waters (Luca) (Which I’ll probably never finish) comes in 4th with 122 kudos!

And, finally (I’m so happy this actually made the list) Caro Luca Paguro comes in at 5th with 93 kudos!!

5. Do You Respond To Comments? Why Or Why Not?

I do my very best to respond to comments because I really love doing so, but with my ADHD, it’s kinda hard to do it cause I’ll respond in my head and say I’ll respond for real later, but then I never do. I like talking with others about my fics, especially if they’re fans!

6. What’s The Fic You’ve Written With The Angstiest Ending?

Ok. So, like. I don’t like angsty endings. I’m the kind of girl who loves happy endings. I don’t really like there to be any real villain. Just a lot of misunderstandings that become cleared up by the end of the story. HOWEVER! If you ask my good old friend @geekgirles , she will fucking tell you I’m a horrible ass liar because I wrote a fic based off this song called One Headlight by the WallFlowers. So, naturally, the fic is called One Headlight. It was a Human Broppy au (Trolls), where they’re teenagers in a small town of Nevada (God, I miss Nevada) where Branch has lost everyone he loved to this disease called Bergen’s disease. It was a heart disease that ate away at your heart and the only true cure was a heart transplant. So he was pretty distant in this new town until he met Poppy, this upbeat girl who was the fire in his cold heart! They had a great night at a dance, but when he met her friends, he knew he didn’t fit in her life with his depressed attitude, but Poppy always did her best to get him into her friend group. So he had become already attached (though he would never admit it) to her when she had told all her friends that she had Bergen’s Disease. He was pretty shitty about it at first, not believing she was gonna make it. But, the thing about Poppy was that she was hopeful. He had never had someone like that before. Someone who had hope. When his grandma had found out she had bergen’s disease, she had tried her best to prepare him for the day she would die. She had no hope of getting a donor on time. But Poppy always had hope. It was refreshing to him. In the end, after they confessed their feelings and shit, I did the most horrible thing I have ever done to the Trolls Fandom. I killed Poppy. She had gotten a donor in time, but her body wasn’t responding to the new heart. It killed Branch inside. And, years later, he killed himself because she was the only one he had ever felt happy with. This was meant to be sort of a bittersweet drama like “All The Bright Places”. It had actually been a challenge to write this fic, because I had never written anything so fucking sad before. I actually ended up crying myself while writing certain scenes for this fic. But I did it. I proved to myself I could write a story like this.

7. Do You Write Crossovers?

No, I don’t think I ever have? Siempre, though, if I had ever actually finished it, was going to be one because I was a Higuel fan (Hiro from Big Hero 6 and Miguel) and they were gonna sort of end up together in the end because Honey Lemon’s real name was going to be Jimena and she was going to visit the Rivera’s since they were putting a new photo on their Ofrenda. That’s how they were going to meet, but I never finished it. I am, though, trying my hardest to write down a small synopsis of what was going to happen in the entire story and posting it along with notes and scenes I had written beforehand but had never gotten to just to give some fans a little closure, but, with my adhd, it’s hard to focus on a fandom I’m no longer in.

8. Have You Ever Received Hate On A Fic?

Oh my fucking god! YES! Seriously, The HTTYD fandom doesn’t fuck around, especially the toxic Hiccstrid fans. Jesus christ. In my fic, I Didn’t Mean To Come Here, people were going to have to suffer through a bit of Eretstrid (Which I don’t really ship, I just did it for the plot), and I got death threats for that shit. It was the worst feeling ever when I got those comments, but now I just take them in stride because, like, imagine sending death threats to someone because of a fucking ship. Like, this wasn’t even a problematic ship either. It’s two fucking teenagers. Not to mention, I made Hiccup bi in the fic, and some people didn’t like that and had the fucking AUDACITY to tell me that they were gonna stop reading the fic because of it. Like, Ok? I’m not writing this fic for you anyway, I’m writing it for me. Not to mention, in my Gravity Falls fanfic, Forever Love, people throughout the years just fucking LOVED to tell me how overrated my fic is and how it wasn’t even that good. Like, so fucking what? I was 15 when I wrote it. Get over it. I still like to revel in the fact that, at one point, it was the most favorited fic in the fandom. I still live off of that high because I was only 15 at the time and really made my year.

9. Do You write Smut? If So, What Kind?

Yes! I have written smut before. In the trolls fandom. I don’t really know what kind of smut there is, but I was told that the scene I wrote felt like something out of a romance novel, so I guess more Sensual than a BAM! WHAM! Sex scene! I don’t think I would write smut for any of my other fandoms though, especially because it’s all kids and teenagers and I am no longer one so it feels weird? I’m not that old, only 21, but teens feel like babies to me now and fictional characters that are teens are just like my barbie dolls now where the most I’ll make them do is kiss. Probably write awkward scenes just for comic relief, but nothing even close to smut.

10. Have You Ever Had Fic Stolen?

OK BUCKLE FUCKING UP!!!! I once had a fic called ‘Destiny Calls’ for the Kung Fu Panda Fandom that I had actually finished when I was, like, 15 or so and it was about how Tigress ran away from the Jade Palace to go find herself and actually finds her Birth family in the process. It turns out her birth mother had six or seven other kids, I don’t remember, but there was this special one that she grew to like the most, Gushi, which means Story. (I probably had her ND coded without even realizing because I made her like me, kind of a self insert) Well, it turns out that the reason Tigress’s mom gave her up was because a Demon was after her (I don’t even remember why, but I’ll chalk that up to 14 year old me who thought this was a good plot) because the demon was destined to be defeated by a tiger named Ming Yun, which was Tigress’s birth name. So, the demon attacked the family and that’s when Tigress’s mother had to give her up, lest her child die at the hands of a demon! Well, it turns out that it was not Tigress who ended up defeating the demon, because the demon got his own story wrong. Ming Yun means Destiny in Chinese, which meant it was the demon’s destiny to be defeated by a tiger, not necessarily named Ming yun. Gushi was special because she was the only one who could hold the Sword of Heroes without being cut and for plot reasons because she was actually the one who was destined to kill the demon. But, in order to kill the demon, she had to die herself. It was a hero's sacrifice to save the valley of peace (which actually got destroyed, but no one had died because, if I remember right, which I don’t think I am, they had escorted everyone out when they found out the demon was coming). Tigress, in her grief, goes with Po and the Furious Five, forgetting her life as Ming Yun and her siblings reluctantly let her because the mom now wants nothing to do with her if she’s gonna be like that. And that’s how I ended it off because I had a sequel planned but in the end, I deleted the whole fic and it’s sequel because it was starting to become those Next Gen fics I don’t like and, as I grew as a writer, I was looking back at it and thinking “TiPo, what the fuck is this?”. Anyway, someone tried to repost it as their own fic. I remember being 16 and pissed as fuck! Especially cause the person who stole it put the title as “Destany Calls”. The typo really sealed the anger because I was like “You’re gonna steal my fic but you’re not gonna write the title correctly? Bruh?!” But that’s all in the past now. I guess, now that I look back at it, it’s kind of funny because that story was absolute shit! But this person thought it was good enough to steal, so I’m sort of flattered in a way. But, nah, if someone tried stealing any of my fics now, I would call them out on their shit.

11. Have You Ever Co-Written A Fic Before?

No, I don’t think I have. Though, I do remember when my sister was, like, 8, she wanted to write KFP fanfiction just like me, so she would write small, cheesy stories that, ya know, an 8 year old would write and ask me to post them on my FF.net account. So I guess that kind of counts?

12. What’s Your All Time Favorite Ship?

Po and Tigress. No fucking doubt. I’ve been in the Pandom since I was 8 years old, the year it came out, before I even knew what Fandom was. They were my ultimate favorite ship and when KFP 2 came out, it only sealed it. That’s why I’m TiPoLover 22, because I love TiPo. But don’t ask me who the other 21 are, I don’t know. I’m actually still a huge fan of TiPo, but my preferences for them have changed. I used to ship them in that Hetro bullshit way, but now I headcanon Tigress as Asexual, biromantic and Po as Asexual, Demiromatic. I was going to update Friendship because a while back I was editing chapters and I added a new one and I had decided that I wanted to add a real plot to it where in the end, Tigress and Po realize that the friendship they have became much more but because they don’t experience feelings like everyone else, they hadn’t realized it before. But I never got around to doing that. Even so, TiPo will always be my ultimate ship.

13. What Was The First Fandom You Wrote For?

If it wasn’t obvious already, Kung Fu Panda. I had so many fics planned for them, but I never got around to them and the only one I ever finished was Destiny calls. Though, Friendship, as it is now, is technically finished cause each chapter, though connected, were stand-alone oneshots. I’ve deleted a lot of my KFP fics because as I grew as a writer, I realized how hectic and unsolvable the plots were and how horrible I was at researching Chinese culture. I’m not active in the Pandom anymore, but I still consider myself in it because it’s a fandom and a community that will always be dear to my heart.

14. What’s Your Favorite Fic You’ve Written

I don’t know. I kind of love all my fics, really. They’re all my babies! But, I guess I would have to say Forever Love because it was the first fic I ever finished. All the hype I got through that fic was amazing and really boosted my confidence as a writer.

AAAHHH! This was so fun!!! I’m so happy I was tagged. Now, for MY tags!!

@geekgirles , @eyeloveu , @peppermintyboy , @flying-princess , @anchoviesinthenightsky , and anyone else who would love to do it!!!

#Luca pixar #Pixar Luca #kung fu panda #kung fu panda 2 #kung fu panda 3 #how to train your dragon #httyd #pixar coco #coco pixar #Gravity Falls #dreamworks trolls #trolls world tour

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twistedtummies2 · 4 years ago

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Descending From the Sky - Part 1 (500 Followers Special)

IN CELEBRATION OF 500 FOLLOWERS...! (freezes as someone whispers in my ear) ...Eh? You...say I have 509 now? ...Frick. WELL, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER! Something a lot of people have wanted me to write - on this site as well as an alternate site I frequent - is a “rampage story.” You know the type: macro-sized predator goes stomping around eating people and causing destruction in their wake. I have several ideas for such tales, though most of them are still in the “pre-production” stages. I decided to go with the one that could offer me the clearest possible plot, and which I know a few people were hoping to see: this is the third chapter in my Giant AU for My Hero Academia, based on Jack and the Beanstalk. In the past two sections, Midoriya and Kaminari went up to see the Giants. THIS time, however, one of the giants comes down to Earth themselves. I mustn’t say more though, or I shall spoil the fun. This is a two-parter; part two will be up tomorrow. As is typical, this first section is mostly just expository stuff and...well...actual STORY than anything else. Most of the “fun stuff” will be in tomorrow’s second half. Keeping this in mind, I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for the support!

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Three months had passed since Izuku Midoriya and Denki Kaminari had descended from the beanstalk with the Golden Eggs.

The result of their fortunate adventures were plainly visible: the farm where they both lived had become far more prosperous. The fields had been able to widen, as their master, Aizawa, had been able to hire new farmhands, buy new equipment, and even purchase a new cow for milking! (Although Izuku couldn’t help but notice how much whiter Milky White’s output had always been.) The farmhouse had been repaired, and plans were in motion to construct a larger building, all while a second barn was being built to house all the new supplies. Over all of this rising splendor towered the magnificent beanstalk...and on the unusually hot morning where our story begins, the boys were very glad about that. Kaminari sighed as he paused in his work, wiping his brow with a spotted handkerchief before stuffing it back into his pocket. Though the boys could afford nice clothes, they usually wore their old peasant garb while working After all, there was no point in ruining the good stuff. “Y’know something, Midoriya?” he mumbled out, looking up. Midoriya paused, putting down his hammer and looking down at Kaminari. His expression was wide-eyed and attentive. Kaminari huffed, leaning against the side of the shed the two were in the process of building. “Life doesn’t make sense sometimes.” “Yeah, that’s a fact,” Midoriya said, with a small smile, and chuckled, turning his freckled face back towards his work. He was standing on a ladder and tapping nails into place to hold the roof boards. Kaminari was holding the nails in a jar, and passing them up, and was supposed to be holding the ladder. In that moment, however, the distracted blonde was more focused on the jar, biting his lip as he stirred the nails boredly. The pair had been alternating positions every couple of boards, since, obviously, it was a lot more work to hammer than to hold. Not that the heat made either of the stations particularly fun. Kaminari tried to get a bit of shade from the side of the shed, but as the Sun was facing in the wrong direction, there was no shade to be had. “What I mean is,” Denki went on, “I thought all this extra stuff would make our lives easier: a little less of a workload on us. Instead, it feels like we haven’t a chance to just...you know...breathe.” “I know,” Midoriya murmured, pausing in his work and dipping his head. “Nor a chance to visit our friends ‘upstairs.’” “Friend. Singular,” Kaminari corrected. “Unless you count that mean man-eater as a friend…” Both of the teens shuddered, and Kaminari even crossed himself. Midoriya shook his head and refocused on hammering as Kaminari passed up another nail, and made sure to grab hold of the ladder with one hand. He didn’t want Midoriya to fall over. For one thing, it would be kind of embarrassing if either of them broke an arm falling from a ladder after managing to climb up and down a mammoth beanstalk and never tumble once.

“Mr. Aizawa says that after this is built, we should be able to rest a bit,” Midoriya said, with a bright-eyed smile that made his green irises look like emeralds. “Maybe we’ll get to go back up there in a couple weeks.”

“Maybe,” murmured Kaminari, and frowned. “Hey, do you think he’s giving us extra work to keep us from going up there?” Midoriya frowned and turned carefully on the ladder, looking to the beanstalk, then looking over the farmland...and shook his head again, this time in disagreement. “No,” he answered, and continued hammering; the boards were hard and the nails long. “With everything going on, I think we can give him the benefit of the doubt there. There’s just...so much expansion, with all the buying and selling we’ve been doing…” “I’m glad he let us keep those Golden Eggs!” grinned Kaminari. “They look cool in the bedroom.” Midoriya nodded wordlessly in agreement, and began to descend the ladder. It was Kaminari’s turn to take care of the next few boards-and-nails. “We’ll get back there soon,” he said. “Things just have to get harder before they get easier.” “That’s one way of looking at it,” shrugged Kaminari, giving Midoriya the nail jar as he took the hammer. He bit his lip and looked off to the side. Midoriya tilted his head, concerned by the unhappy expression on his friend’s face. “Hey...something else wrong?” he asked. “Just...when I went up there last time…” Kaminari trailed off...took a breath...and shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, and smiled. “Let’s just get back to work. The faster we finish, the faster we can get inside where it’s cool.” Midoriya looked skeptical, but before he could answer, a voice interrupted the pair… “It’s going to take a little longer than expected to do that.” The boys looked up. The baggy-eyed figure of Aizawa was approaching the pair. The teens stiffened, almost as if standing at attention. “Good morning, Master!” they chorused, as if speaking to a drill sergeant. Aizawa rolled his eyes and made a grumpy sound. He made a lot of those. “Relax, you’re not in trouble. Yet,” he mumbled, then went on a bit more clearly: “I need you two to stop work on the shed today. There’s another job for you both now.” The teens looked at each other, then back to the head farmer. “Um...no offense, sir,” Midoriya spoke up, and sounded sincerely polite and curious as he spoke, “But why not get one of the others to do it?” “Or do it yourself?” suggested Kaminari, in the same tone. Neither sounded defiant, just a little confused. Aizawa crossed his arms and sighed through his nose, looking out over the farmland, watching the new helpers hoe and shovel and rake away… “I have to stay,” he said, simply and strictly. “And as for the rest of the farmhands…” He looked back to the pair somewhat earnestly. “...I trust you both more than most of them.” The two boys practically had stars in their eyes. “You...you trust us?” peeped Midoriya. “Really?” Kaminari gasped. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he droned, drably. “I trust Mineta more than you both, and he’s a donkey. And I trust my dog more than I trust him.” The pair ducked their heads with nervous, bashful smiles. Kaminari scratched the back of his head, kicking an imaginary pebble, while Midoriya rubbed one arm, trying to look anywhere but into Aizawa’s face. Aizawa rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat. “Ahem...the new help has loaded the wagon with produce to take to market,” he informed the pair. “Change clothes and hitch the horse up, then take it all. And this time, PLEASE don’t try to trade anything on the way for Magic Beans. One big green liability is enough.” He looked to Midoriya pointedly with those words. Midoriya gulped guiltily. “We’ll do our best, Master,” Kaminari promised, and slung an arm around Midoriya as he gave a cocky grin. “Just leave it to us! We’ll come back with more money than you can shake a stick at! Although I don’t know why you’d want to…” Aizawa just made another grumpy sort of sound and paused before going on… “Mind your way through the forest. Don’t stray from the path. Keep the cart moving on its course: some of the new boys have said they’ve encountered robbers in the woods, ever since…” He pointed up towards the clouds indicatively. “We’ll be careful, Mr. Aizawa,” vowed Midoriya, then looked to Kaminari. “C’mon, let’s get moving!” The duo folded up the ladder, and darted off to put away their tools before getting ready for the journey to market. Aizawa watched them go, then looked back to the partially finished shed, then turned his gaze heavenward. He glared as he looked at the top of the beanstalk...or, at least, the furthest point he could see, as it disappeared beyond the blue sky’s crest. He shook his head and pinched his brow as he walked off to see about feeding the chickens. “This place has never been the same,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t mind so much if I could decide if that was good or bad…”

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Meanwhile, in the Land of the Giants… “Sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” The red-haired, fang-toothed giant known as Kirishima looked with concern to his friend. His fellow titan, Bakugou, narrowed his own crimson eyes, a sour expression on his face as he lounged on a sofa in their living room. “Hell’s that s’posed to mean?” he sneered. “What do you think’s gonna happen while I’m here?” Kirishima opened his mouth to answer...then closed it again. “...Never mind,” he shrugged, and gave a cheerful smile as he slung the leather backpack over his back. “Anyway, I better get going. Tamaki’s probably gonna get all anxious if I’m late; start thinking if I still wanna be his friend, and so on…” “Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, and took a sip of the coffee he held in his hand. “How come you hang out with that wuss anyway? He’s softer than you are!” “Hey, you can’t pick your friends!” “Yes, you can,” droned Bakugou, boredly. “It’s family. You can’t pick your family.” “That, too.” Bakugou blinked slowly, his expression tremendously dull as he took another drink. “Whatever. It’ll be nice to not have your dumb hair poisoning my vision,” he grumbled. “Yeah, I’ll miss you, too,” Kirishima chuckled. Bakugou just grunted, taking yet another drink. He licked his lips thinly as Kirishima tilted his head. “Hey...you certain you’re alright?” “What makes you think I’m not?” “I dunno...just...you’ve been a lot quieter lately. And you haven’t gone down to mess with the little guys in a couple of months. Not that I mind that at all…” He grinned. “Am I rubbing off on you a little, maybe?” “Dream on. I just haven’t had an appetite for ‘em.” “Uh-huh. Sure,” Kirishima mumbled, sounded unconvinced, and gave a smile. “Well...anyway, I’ll be back by tomorrow. Guard the house well!” “The fuck do you mean ‘guard the house well’?!” snapped Bakugou, barking out his annoyance. “DO I LOOK LIKE A DAMN GUARD DOG TO YOU?!” Kirishima sniggered, and responded with a jaunty mock-salute. Whistling merrily, the friendly giant thus left the house. Bakugou growled (ironically sounding VERY much like an angry guard dog), his fingers twitching around his coffee cup as he finished his drink. He stifled a burp in his ballooning cheeks - “HHHMMMRRRLLLRRRPH...grm…” - and swallowed the excess gas back down, thumping his bare chest with a beefy fist before rising to his feet. The Barbarian-garbed colossus then tromped back to the kitchen, cleaning his cup and putting it aside to drain and dry. In truth, there was something on Bakugou’s mind. Something that had been buzzing around in his brain for months, and had become increasingly more annoying. I climbed a beanstalk to the top of the sky...I befriended a giant, was able to hide from another...and I was able to make my whole village happy, and even the king...do you think anyone who’s ‘just meat’ could even think of all that? The giant ground his teeth together, fingers twitching again. “Worthless little runt,” he growled to himself. “What does he know?” The little one Kirishima called “Midoriya” wouldn’t leave his mind. He kept trying to force the small one’s words aside, but the pathetic rat wouldn’t get out of his head. It was starting to drive the titan insane. He’d spent his whole life eating humans. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and all around better than they were. It was the law of the jungle: they were SUPPOSED to fill his belly. It was just their fault they were so small and tasty! That’s how he’d always justified it. That’s how he’d always felt about it. And it wasn’t as if he ate indiscriminately. But now… Someones gotta knock some sense into you, Bakugou! You can’t just eat people, it’s...it’s not right! And if one of my friends is in danger...I’ve got to do whatever I can to help them! No matter what! Bakugou snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. The little vermin had guts. What he wouldn’t give to introduce them to HIS guts... Still...he hadn’t been down to eat in months now...and the truth was, what he’d told Kirishima was true. He just...hadn’t been in the mood to eat little people in a while. It was really starting to piss him off, because this had never happened before. They were his FAVORITE food...so what was holding him back? GRRROOORRRLLLB… Bakugou winced and hissed through his teeth, clapping a hand to his belly. His fingers rubbed over his bare, strong, well-sculpted abs as his stomach gurgled and “brumbled” noisily. So far, all he he’d had that morning was coffee. It seemed his gut was demanding something more substantial. For a moment, the thought of dozens of squirming little morsels flashed in his mind...but he shook that thought away with a toss of his messy blonde locks, and instead relaxed slightly as he stomped towards the icebox. “Something light oughta kill those damn noises,” he muttered coarsely. “Where’d I put those cold cuts…?”

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The wagon full of pumpkins, apples, cucumbers, potatoes, corn, and all sorts of other home-grown delights rattled along the semi-level road that twisted and twined its way through the forest. Kaminari sat beside Midoriya, who held the reins, while an old gray mare hauled the cart along at a steady trot. “Easy there, Chiyo,” Midoriya smiled gently, as the horse huffed softly, ears flicking at a noise from somewhere in the underbrush. “Just a jackrabbit.” “Hopefully,” mumbled Kaminari, then cocked his head to the left. “Say, Midoriya? Do you think we’ll run into that Yagi guy who gave you the Magic Beans?” “I doubt it,” Izuku said wistfully. “I get the feeling that was a one-time deal, or something.” “Hm. Got it,” Kaminari grunted, looking away again, a somewhat pensive, pondering look on his face. Midoriya’s smile faded. “Kaminari...seriously, what’s been bothering you?” “What do you mean?” “You’re thinking. A lot. That’s...very unusual for you.” “Hey. Thinking is dangerous. It can lead to headaches.” Midoriya smirked and chuckled, then paused, pulling the horse to a stop. “Come on,” he said, gently, placing the reins at his side nad putting a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably. “We should keep going,” he said, quietly. “Aizawa said there were-” “We’ll be fine. Talk to me. We’re friends, right?” “Right...well, um...it’s just…” Kaminari took a deep breath, and let it out before speaking. “...I’ve felt...really bad ever since I went up the beanstalk.” “Bad as in sick?” “No, just...bad. Emotionally. I really messed things up, and I almost got killed for it. I was being greedy and stubborn and selfish, and...look, I still love money-” “And girls.” “Well, duh, girls are what make life worth living, and money helps there.” Midoriya sighed and rolled his eyes, still smiling. “But seriously,” Kaminari went on, shifting his position so he could look Midoriya in the face, “What I did was wrong and...well...kinda stupid, even for me. I wanna make up for it somehow, just...I don’t really know what to do. And with all the time that’s gone by-” “I forgive you.” Kaminari stopped short. “I forgive you,” Midoriya said, his smile gentle and friendly. “And I know Kirishima forgives you, too. If it makes you feel so bad, we’ll find a way to go up there and see if you can do something more. I wanna go back up there just as much as you do. But work’s gotta come first.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Kaminari sighed...then smirked, and adopted a dramatic pose, pointing forward. “Well...drive on, my good man!” Midoriya snickered at Kaminari’s over-the-top impression of a pompous nobleman. “Yes, My Lord,” he winked, and whipped the reins, clicking and calling out Chiyo’s name. Chiyo let out a soft whinny and began to move forward again. Kaminari paused to adjust his clothes: both he and Midoriya were dressed in sharp-looking coats and breeches, so they could look more presentable at the market. “Yellow and black are good colors,” smirked Kaminari, admiring the golden lining of his jacket. He grinned somewhat sneakily. “Hey, think I’ll impress a few ladies while we’re out?” Midoriya was about to respond...but before he could - and after the pair had only traveled about twenty or thirty yards - Chiyo suddenly let out a sharp cry and came to an equally sharp stop. “Whoa, whoa, girl!” called out Midoriya, and as the horse settled, he and Kaminari frowned and stood up in the wagon to see what was the matter. The pair were surprised by what they saw: a small girl, dressed in a somewhat ratty-looking white dress. She had metallic-colored hair, almost the color of steel, and red eyes that looked like a couple of fresh, ripe cherries. The girl was trembling slightly. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she stared up at the pair. She didn’t move off the path, even as she stood. The two teens looked to each other, then back to the girl, and smiled. “Hello there!” Midoriya said kindly, and stepped down from the cart, while Kaminari stayed aboard and took the reins, just in case the old mare got a bit fidgety. The girl didn’t answer. She stayed still as Midoriya approached. His smile remained gentle and good-natured as he got down on one knee, bringing himself to the little girl’s height. “What is your name, little girl?” he asked, sweetly. The girl paused, blinking just once, before answering in a plaintive, soft voice: “Eri.” “Eri,” repeated Midoriya. “That’s a nice name.” He looked back to the wagon. “Don’t you think so, Kaminari?” “Oh, yeah. Short but pretty,” Denki nodded. Midoriya smiled a little wider, and looked back to Eri. “What are you doing out here, Eri?” he asked, carefully, and looked about with some small amount of worry. “Are your parents around?” Eri bit her lip and squirmed where she stood, looking away and hugging herself. “My...my papa needs help,” she admitted quietly, sounding almost ashamed of the words. “I...I heard your cart coming, and...c-could you...could you help me?” Midoriya frowned with concern. “Of course we’ll help,” he promised sincerely, and looked back to Kaminari. “Stay here with Chiyo and the market goods. I’m gonna see what’s going on, then we can figure out what to do.” “Gotcha,” Kaminari nodded. “Be quick though.” “I’ll try,” Midoriya said, then looked back to Eri with another kind, sweet smile. “C’mon, Eri...let’s go, okay?” He extended a hand...and to his surprised, Eri stepped back, letting out a tiny, timid whimper, as if she expected to be hit. Midoriya looked at his palm, then up at the little girl. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. Just...take my hand, and tell me where to go. Alright?” Eri blinked a few times, looking between Midoriya’s face and his hand...then, her own tiny, trembling fingers clasped about his. Midoriya smiled and stood up, holding firmly but carefully onto the young lady as she led him off the path into the forest. Kaminari, for his part, watched them go. Once they were out of sight, he reached into the cart and picked out a juicy yellow apple. No reason he couldn’t have a snack while he waited: there was plenty in the cart to sell at market, anyway. He checked the surrounding trees as he took a crunching bite from the fruit. He made sure to be alert; he didn’t want to make any mistakes. After all, if Aizawa was right, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let their guard down in the forest… While Kaminari dutifully and calmly guarded the wagon, Eri led Midoriya deeper and deeper into the untouched woods, away from the road. Midoriya looked back and frowned; the cart disappeared from sight behind him. “How far away is your father, Eri?” he asked. “And what happened to him?” Eri bit her lip, and paused, keeping her head down. As they stopped, Midoriya looked to her with concern. “Eri?” he checked, quietly. “Please answer me.” Eri let out a whimper...and, without warning, pulled her hand away from Midoriya’s, as if his touch burned her. He stepped back with some alarm as her tiny, frail shoulders began to shake. He could hear her starting to cry. “...You’re nice,” she said very, very softly. “No one...no one has been nice to me...in such a long time…” She gulped and looked up to the teen with misty eyes. “I’m so sorry.” No sooner had Eri uttered the words...then suddenly, someone leapt out from the bushes behind Midoriya and grabbed hold of him. Midoriya gasped and whirled to try and fight back...but another figure lunged from behind a tree and grabbed hold of his other arm. Izuku’s eyes widened: both of his attackers were strapping, masculine figures, dressed in long black robes, with plague doctor’s masks upon their faces. “Wh-What is this?!” he shouted, and struggled to break free. “Let...LET GO OF ME!” “Good work, Eri.” Midoriya froze as he heard the words...and his eyes widened as a third figure stepped out from behind another tree, moving over to Eri’s side. They placed a dark-gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder; she whined like a kicked puppy and shuddered, clearly repulsed but unwilling to move away from the figure’s touch. This figure wore a long green coat, lined with unusual violet fur. He, too, wore a plague doctor’s mask...but this one was not the plain ivory visage the two strikers wore. His was decorated in red and gold, and covered only everything below his eyes. The golden eyes in question narrowed, a supercilious gleam in them. “Very good work, my daughter,” the voice behind the mask intoned. “Thank you for helping us, Izuku Midoriya. We have much to discuss.” The figure then pointed off in another direction, and uttered one command to the two cloaked men: “Take him!” “KAMINARI!” Midoriya yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling harder as one of the two attackers pulled a short club out of their robes. “KAMINARI! KAMINAR-!” WHACK! The world became fuzzy and filled with plain. Midoriya’s voice slurred unhealthily. “...K-Kamin-ar-i…” WHACK! Izuku knew no more. However, his cries had not gone unheard. Kaminari jolted as he heard Midoriya call to him with what sounded like real panic, the apple dropping from his hands and rolling across the dirt. It stopped right in front of the gray mare, who, thinking it was a treat, nibbled it happily. It was a lucky thing the apple distracted the horse, because the moment Kaminari heard the calls stop just as suddenly as they had come, he was on the move. He bounced off the wagon and bounded into the woods, calling back as he ran in the direction he’d seen Eri taking Midoriya. “MIDORIYA! MIDORIYA, I’M COMING!” Naturally, he was too late. Kaminari skidded to a halt, his expression horror struck, as he saw a second wagon not so far ahead...but this was no produce cart drawn by a farmer’s horse. Instead, it was a prison wagon, a cage-cart drawn by two black horses. He saw the driver’s plague doctor mask glint in the sunlight, and heard them laugh jeeringly as they whipped the horses up...then, the wagon rolled out of sight. Just before it disappeared, he caught sight of Midoriya, slumped over in the prisoner’s cage...alongside Eri and another figure he couldn’t rightly make out. Once it was gone, Kaminari stood stock still for several seconds, processing with dread what he had just witnessed...then, cursing under his breath, he dashed back through the woods to his own cart. Chiyo had just finished her apple, and let out a startled sound as the blonde-haired, yellow-eyed youth leapt back into the driver’s seat, tugging and cracking the reins. “C’mon, old girl!” he shouted. “We have to get back to the farm! This is an emergency!” The horse neighed, and the cart was soon turned around. Then, with another crack and a click, Kaminari rode the rattling wagon back down the road towards Aizawa’s farm as fast as he could…

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“Kidnapped?!” “Yeah!” Kaminari confirmed, emphatically. “I saw it happen, Mr. Aizawa! They were riding off with him; I couldn’t hope to catch up in time!” Aizawa grinded his teeth; a look of intense worry burned in his eyes. “Which way were they going?” he demanded, standing up from his desk in the room Kaminari had found him in. “South? West?” “East,” Kaminari replied. “Due East, no doubt of it.” “And you said the driver of the cart wore a plague doctor’s mask?” “Yes, sir!” Aizawa sighed. “There’s no doubt of it then,” he murmured, in an ominous tone of mortal dread. “He’s being taken to Yakuza.” Kaminari gulped nervously. Everyone in the Kingdom of Ua knew about Yakuza: it was one of two neighboring kingdoms, which had been feuding with the land for years on end. It was ruled by the evil King Kai; its armies were ruthless, and its defenses plentiful. While outright war had not been done in many years, relations between the kingdoms were still intensely...well...tense, to say the least. No one in Ua ever went to Yakuza...and lived to tell about it. “Wh-why would they take Midoriya?” Kaminari almost whimpered. “I can make a few guesses,” growled Aizawa curtly, as he dressed himself in his best hat and coat and looked to Kaminari. “I’m going to to take the new stallion to the castle. I have friends among the King’s Knights, they might be able to help us.” “I’ll go with you!” “No,” ordered Aizawa. “You stay here. I already have one of you in danger. I’m not getting you into any more trouble, and I don’t want you causing it, either.” “But I want to help!” “I know,” sighed Aizawa. “But this is no time for rash action!” “This is the PERFECT time for rash action!” Kaminari almost screamed out. “They took Izuku, and who knows what they’re gonna-?!” He stopped short at a burning, searing glare from Aizawa. He ducked his head and looked away. “...I’m...I’m sorry…” “Stay. Here,” Aizawa commanded, then added more softly, “Please.” Kaminari said nothing, but remained where he was. Aizawa looked the blonde haired boy over a time or two...then sighed again and shook his head, before hustling out of the house. There wasn’t a moment to lose. For a time, Kaminari stayed perfectly still where he stood. He listened. He waited. And the instant he heard the sound of Aizawa whistling to his horse, and the sound of the horse hooves galloping off into the distance...his eyes lifted. He looked to the beanstalk outside...and then moved to Aizawa’s desk. He hastily pulled out a small piece of parchment, and scribbled a message onto it. You said to leave you a note next time, the message read. I’m sorry, Master. I have to help my friend. I have to make up for my mistakes. Signed, Kaminari. With this managed, Kaminari clambered out of the open window, and crept towards the mighty beanstalk. He glanced from side to side, to make sure no one was looking...then, without another thought, he latched onto its based, grabbed hold of its stems and leaves...and began, once more, the long climb up...Up...UP…

“I’ll save you, Midoriya,” he promised, as he soon climbed up past the roof of the house, and kept right on climbing. “I’ll save you...one way or another…”

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“UUUURRRRRRRROOOORRRRRPH...mph...weak…” Bakugou snorted as he lounged back on the couch in the den of his and Kirishima’s home. His stomach was ever so slightly distended; just enough to make the strong, deep crevices between his six-pack muscles a little less well-defined, a clear but very small curve of fullness along his middle. One of his hands was resting upon his gut, covering his deep, black navel. He didn’t rub his stomach, didn’t scratch it...simply let his hand rest there, the limb rising and falling as his gut moved with his breathing. The ogre’s other arm was slung behind his messy-haired head as he glared with his usual, grouchy scowl at the ceiling, red eyes smoldering as he seemed to look through the ceiling itself...thinking and thinking. The (relatively) light meal he’d enjoyed left a pleasant warmth in his belly...but was not truly full yet. It barely made the slightest dent in his gut, and he knew he could fit more. But nothing around the house seemed to his satisfaction...and he had a feeling he knew what he wanted. What was stopping him? He knew what his stomach desired. He’d never denied it before. So why was he purposefully avoiding it now? He couldn’t even blame his appetite: he clearly wanted it, so what was holding him back? He didn’t know. This was...annoying. “Pissing me off,” he all but hissed to himself, fingers curling over his bare belly and twitching slightly with his ever-present anger. “Damn that little snack-rat...how’d that little fucker get inside my head anyhow…” He growled and shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts and the ever-repeating words. But they wouldn’t go away. He covered his ears, snarling and pulling at his hair. “Die, you stupid thoughts!” he snapped, trying to think of a way to force them out of his mind. He couldn’t take this much more…! He froze in the middle of his thoughts. His eyes widened as his ears pricked up. The giant listened closely. He could have sworn...he’d heard the scampering of tiny feet. He sniffed the air...and growled again, almost like a wild bear. “Fee, Fi, Fo-Fuck it. I don’t have time for this shit…” The giant swung himself out of his seat and onto the floor...but he didn’t stomp his way towards the source of the sound and scent. Instead, he cautiously began to prowl towards it, moving almost like a giant cat. He was fairly certain the little rat hadn’t realized he was around, and he wanted to keep it that way… The giant tip-toed out of the living room and towards the main hall. He peered around the corner, and his red eyes widened at what he saw. He looked both surprised and angry at the same time. Creeping across the floor was a familiar little fellow - no bigger than a mouse, compared to the man-eating man-mountain - with yellow hair and matching eyes. He nervously moved across the floor, peering from side to side and looking all around. “Kirishima?” he called out. “Hello? Is anybody home?” “Yeah. Someone’s home, little snack.” Kaminari jumped...then squealed with fright as he saw Bakugou step out from hiding. The giant’s teeth were bared in a vicious snarl, his fists clenched and visibly shaking. With a comical holler, Kaminari flailed and turned around, trying to make a mad dash back the way he had come… “COME BACK HERE, RAT!” Katsuki roared. “I’LL KILL YOU!” “That’s not a good incentive for me to come back!” Kaminari called back. Bakugou just let out a wordless shout of anger, and lumbered forward. In three long, strong strides, he moved in front of Kaminari. Kaminari skidded to a halt as the Giant glared and lifted one massive boot over him... “DIE, RUNT!” “YIPE!” Kaminari barely had time to scramble out of the way before the giant’s foot slammed into the floor. THOOM! Denki stumbled as the floor shook with the force of the stomp. He hit the floor was was briefly winded...and barely had time to lift a hand in a pleading gesture, a futile attempt to stop the inevitable, as Bakugou’s own giant fingers came swooping down towards him and snatched him. Kaminari cried out as he was hoisted into the air; vertigo hit him in an instant, and he felt woozy...but only for a second or two. He had much worse things to worry about as he was soon held up to the giant’s face. “What are you doin’ back here?” sneered Bakugou. “I...I was lookin’ for-GACK!” Kaminari choked and gasped as Bakuguou gave him a squeeze. His ribs felt nearly ready to cave in, and his spine creaked forebodingly. “I don’t give a damn,” Katsuki snorted, then smirked. “Guess it’s my luck you decided to try and rob us again. This time...you’re not goin’ home, runt.” Kaminari let out a terrified moan as Bakugou licked his lips. “I haven’t had a human to eat in months,” the ogre rumbled, his free hand rubbing his belly up and down. “Now, I’ll finally get a small taste again...thanks for comin’ to me, meat.” So saying, Bakugou closed his eyes and opened his jaws. Kaminari cried out as he was brought closer to the stinking hot maw of the man-eating monster, the tongue twitching as the teeth parted to reveal the slimy chasm of pink, soft flesh that would consume him. “W-Wait...WAIT, JUST A MINUTE! WAIT, PLEASE!” Kaminari yowled as the mouth loomed closer and closer, and he struggled in the giant’s grip. “I DIDN’T COME HERE TO STEAL, I PROMISE! PLEASE!” Bakugou stopped. His eyes opened...and he pulled Kaminari away from his jaws, closing them and glaring at the small morsel. “You’re...not here to steal?” he repeated, skeptically. Kaminari - relieved to be away from that mouth and the odor of digesting meat that came from it - sighed and nodded in confirmation. Bakugou glared darkly. “Why should I believe you?” “Um...b-because it’s true?” Kaminari eeped out. Bakugou’s glare did not soften. “Listen,” Kaminari said, and took a breath to steady himself before going on, still wiggling to try and find some semblance of comfort between the boa constrictors that were Bakugou’s mighty digits. “L-Listen, I...I’m sorry. For what I did last time. I know it was wrong, a-and I won’t do it again.” “Apology not accepted,” sneered Bakugou. “And if that’s all you’ve got, I’m eating you.” “It’s not, it’s not!” exclaimed Kaminari, desperately. “Please...wh-where’s Kirishima? I need his help!” “Stupid hair’s not here. He won’t be back till tomorrow,” shrugged Bakugou, carelessly. Kaminari looked mortified. “But...but...oh, no...now what do I do?” the human worried, speaking more to himself than the giant. “By tomorrow...b-by tomorrow, he could be dead…” Bakugou looked the tiny morsel up and down, and tilted his huge head curiously. “What do you need that extra’s help for, anyway?” he groused. “Midoriya. My friend. He’s been kidnapped.” Bakugou’s eyes widened anew. “Kidnapped?” he repeated, voice soft and somewhat shaky. “Yeah,” Kaminari nodded, his expression dour. “He...he was tricked…a-and a bunch of creeps from a rival kingdom took him away. I...I was too late to stop them. I though...maybe Kirishima could...you know...help me rescue him. Being a giant and all. But...without his help…” “Without his help, you’ll be better off,” snorted Bakugou. “Where is this kingdom?” Kaminari looked up, seemingly stunned. “Wait...you mean...YOU’LL help me?” “Psh. Don’t think of it as me helping you. I’m just helping myself,” Bakugou snorted, and smirked cruelly as he jabbed his free thumb to his chest, head held high. “No one’s gonna kill that green-haired, worthless idiot except ME. Besides, I’ve been on a ‘diet’ recently, you might say…” He licked his teeth as his stomach let out an excited burbling noise. “...I think it’s time I broke it. So...where do I need to go to eat?” Kaminari gulped nervously. “Um...uh...y-you need to go due east, f-from our home. I...I can point the way if you...um...maybe...p-promise not to eat me?” Kaminari smiled hopefully. Bakugou glared. “I don’t make promises to snacks,” he growled...then paused before going on, slowly: “Still...it’ll be hard to find the place without a guide...I guess I can let you live a little longer.” Kaminari sighed with even greater relief. “Thanks,” he breathed...then squeaked like a rodent as the giant quickly tucked him into his vest pocket. “Stay right there, and if you do anything stupid, I’ll squash you flat,” Bakugou grunted. “Now come on, snack. You’ve got another annoying bug to save…” He grinned viciously as he began to march out of the house. “...And I’ve got dinner waiting for me now. Heh heh heh…” Kaminari shuddered as he heard the giant smack his chops hungrily, and looked out over the white and blue landscape of the Kingdom Above the Clouds as his “ride” stepped out into the daylight and went on his way. “I hope I don’t live to regret this,” Denki murmured to himself. “Hang on tight, Midoriya...I’m coming…” “Ahem!” “Uh...oh, uh...w-we’re coming.” “Hmph. Better. Don’t make me regret not eating you…” “I’ll try...h-heh…”

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Izuku Midoriya groaned; a splitting headache greeted him as he opened his eyes. Breathing, itself, required great focus, which only made the throbbing, stinging pain in his cranium worse. Something prickled like nettles inside his nostrils - it smelled like ammonia - rousing him from the bleary, black haze he’d been in for some time. He could still feel the weight of the club against his skull, and hoped he didn’t have any lasting damage to worry about. Midoriya sneezed as the odor became stronger, and shook his head with a louder groan, trying to clear it and focus on the fuzzy, faded-out world around him. “That’s enough,” a voice grunted. “He’s coming to.” The scent went away, and that’s when Midoriya became aware of a few things. One, his hands and ankles were both bound with what felt like rough hemp cord. Two, a large wooden post or pole was against his back, his arms wrapped around it behind him. Three, as he shifted his bound feet he realized they brushed against splintery wood. Finally, vision and total awareness returned to him...and Midoriya felt a chill go up his spine. The location appeared to be a city square, a huge black castle not so far in the distance, and various buildings all around him. This, however, was no city square he’d encountered before...and the people around him were the most unsettling part of all. There were hundreds gathered all around him, and while many of them looked perfectly ordinary in dress and appearance...at least a third of them were wearing dark robes and bone-white plague doctor’s masks, thee black lenses blankly staring at Izuku upon the pyre he was stationed on. At the base of the pyre, Midoriya became aware of a flicker of flame. He looked down and gulped nervously: one of the Plague Doctors carried a torch. Beside him stood King Kai: his purple eyes peering over the crest of his ruby-and-gold mask, dressed still in his expensive-looking green and purple coat. Half-hidden behind the King was Eri, who was visibly shaking, eyes darting about to look anywhere except at Midoriya. Midoriya blinked at Eri...then looked up with a glare at King Kai. “Where am I?” he asked, bluntly. “Wh-What’s going on?” “Welcome to Shie, the capital city of Yakuza,” King Kai answered, and Midoriya could sense the smirk behind the mask. “I am-” “I know who you are,” Midoriya said, trying to sound as brave as he could, but unable to stop shaking. “What do you want with me?” Kai blinked slowly. “Why don’t you guess, filthy Uan?” he responded, his voice cold and cutting. Midoriya bit his lip. “In the past few months, the Beanstalk you grew has helped make your kingdom’s capital all the more prosperous,” Kai decided to explain, his voice business-like. “I would like to know how you were able to create such a thing, and where all the wealth came from.” “And why should I tell you that?” Kai narrowed his eyes, and with a slight motion of his head, the robed figure holding a torch stepped forward. Midoriya shuddered, but held up his head, straightening against the post as he glared defiantly. “Y-You can do what you want to me,” he said softly. “I’ll never tell you anything. If someone like you figured it out, who knows what you could do!” “I can already think of a few possibilities,” Kai said, coolly. “But I would recommend reconsidering. Burning to death is a TERRIBLE way to go. Trust me.” Midoriya’s defiant expression did not shift. “Please don’t hurt him…” Both Kai and Midoriya looked down at the furtive little voice that spoke. Kai’s eyes widened as he found Eri tugging on his pant leg. “Please...j-just let him go,” she pleaded. “H-He’s nice, he didn’t-AH!” Kai sneered as one of his minions struck the girl across the face, knocking her back. Kai checked his leg and sighed with relief when he saw nothing wrong. “Never touch me,” he said, in a soft, warning tone. “How often do I have to tell you, Eri? You. Do. Not. TOUCH ME.” Eri sniffled and whimpered, holding her cheek; a bright red mark was visible upon it. “Leave her alone!” snapped Midoriya. “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” “She’s useful on occasion,” Kai answered, in the same icy tone as before. “But she’s very undisciplined. A father is supposed to discipline his child when they misbehave, yes?” Midoriya looked ill. He looked to Eri with sympathy. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently. Eri blinked, clearly not sure how to respond to the question under the circumstances. “She is far from your concern,” Kai intruded. “I’ll ask again: will you tell us where you got those so-called Magic Beans that brought that stalk to fruition? This is your last chance.” Midoriya struggled against his bonds for a moment, but the knots were strong and taut. He heard several in the crowd snicker. Sighing in defeat, he glared at Kai, who stared up patiently. “Even if I knew where you could find them,” he said, firmly, “I would never tell you.” “Very well,” shrugged King Kai. “In that case, you are of no use to me.” He held out a hand, twitching his fingers in a beckoning gesture. The minion holding the torch handed it over. Kai then turned to address the crowd. “Citizens of Yakuza!” he thundered. “The enemy agent has refused to tell us the secret of the Magic Beanstalk. Today, we burn him, and purge his sorry existence from our clean and well-ordered society. Tomorrow, we shall treat those who live on his farm the same way...and then cut down the mighty beanstalk itself!” The crowd cheered, lifting their fists and shouting jeers at Midoriya. Kai smiled darkly behind his mask, amethyst eyes glittering maliciously as he turned back to Izuku. “Any last words?” Kai hissed. Midoriya blinked once...and gave his reply quickly. PHUT! Kai stumbled back...and his expression became one of livid horror as he felt the slimy substance on his cheek...felt his face burning, felt the hives itch and puff up… He glared with psychotic, feral fury at Midoriya, who smirked back with undying defiance after spitting in the evil king’s face. Kai snarled, and without further hesitation, hurled the torch onto the pyre. The kindling at the base of the pyre began to crackle and burn in an instant. Midoriya’s smile faded, and he began to struggle again. The crowd cheered louder than before, laughing and mocking Midoriya’s struggles as he fought for dear life. Smoke was wisping up, and growing rapidly in density...the fire would be burning fiercely in a very short while. If smoke inhalation didn’t kill him, the flames themselves would. Either way, it would be a lingering, painful demise. “HELP! HELP ME!” he called out, struggling to loosen the knots. Kai glared with triumphant anger as his robed minions taunted Midoriya by mockingly screaming for help, and the crowd pointed and hollered. “NO! NO, LET HIM GO! STOP!” Eri cried out, as two of the masked men held her back. “Perhaps you’ll scream out the answer while you burn, you diseased piece of trash,” sneered Kai. “If not...at least tomorrow we’ll make sure your family suffers the same fate.” Midoriya struggled harder in response, which made Kai chuckle. He crossed his arms, the dark king patiently watching the fire rise and the smoke billow, quickly growing into thicker and thicker curls of vapor...it wouldn’t be long before Midoriya began coughing and wheezing. He was going to enjoy every last second of this he thought, shuddering with revulsion as he touched the stinging portion of his face the boy had spat on. “Bring me my balm,” he muttered, looking towards one of his minions. “I need to-” THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP… Kai froze...and the crowd soon went silent...as a huge, pounding sound echoed through the air. The ground began to tremble, and all across the city went very quiet, confused and frightened as the noise grew steadily louder, and the vibrations more intense… Midoriya blinked, and looked upwards, as did Eri and Kai and nearly everyone else gathered in the city square. Midoriya saw a huge, towering silhouette - at least as large as the castle itself - approaching the area… “Kirishima?” he whispered to himself hopefully, with an optimistic smile.

“A Giant!” exclaimed King Kai, and barked orders to some of his soldiers as he moved a few steps away from the pyre, the people of the city clutching each other, their chatter turning into frightened noises as the King shouted and cried out: “Get to the edges of the city! Fan out! Do everything in your power, but don’t let that...that THING pollute my capital!” The soldiers hurried to move, forgetting all about Midoriya, whose pyre still burned. Midoriya himself had almost forgotten, himself, given the circumstances.: the adventurous lad’s smile quickly faded into a look of confusion and fear as he realized the hair didn’t look like Kirishima’s...and as the giant moved closer and closer, and people in the city began to fretfully murmur, he soon saw the glare of two glowing red eyes. So like Kirishima’s, yet so unlike them. A flash of green and orange caught his eye...and that’s when Midoriya knew. “B-Bakugou?!”

To Be Continued...

49 notes · View notes

bbugyu · 5 years ago

Text

finding something to do + kim mingyu

you had spent your better years bored with mingyu, and he thought holding your hand felt like holding his fleeting youth.

wc.4088 | almost smut, mostly fluff, friends to lovers/uni au, fem reader, that one trope where there is mutual pining but both of them think the other is gay, maybe like half an ounce of angst if you squint Really Hard, lots o swears

i usually make my fics hella neutral as far as gender and size and orientation goes but hahahaha this ones for the average sized bi girls! also just realized that i stopped using capitalization in my fics and yk what? im fine with it. this fic is based off of the song of the same name by hellogoodbye.

“stop honking, other people live here.”

mingyu grinned at you through the half-open passenger window, leaning over to pop open the door. the handle had never recovered from a giant cup of soda crashing into the side of his ride in the middle of a particularly rowdy summer shenanigan, the sticky substance soaking into the mechanics before he had gotten the chance to hose it down in a friend's driveway at 2am. now, you had to wait for him to open it from the inside on all future shenanigans, and you could only roll the window down half way, lest you have to laugh at mingyu aggressively pulling on the window between his palms as you pulled on the motorized switch to coerce it back into the closed position. you slid into the co-pilot seat and looked over to your best friend.

"if you answered your texts i wouldn't have to honk."

you rolled your eyes, tugging on the seatbelt. "go, gyu."

he laughed and shifted into drive, turning up his stereo as he pulled away from your apartment building, hand returning to the stick to shift up a gear. "thanks for coming."

"what else was i gonna do?" you slipped the slides off your socked feet and pulled your legs to sit cross-legged. "i finished rewatching avatar."

"study, maybe?"

you looked at him. he was right, finals were right around the corner, but you had an uncharacteristically light load this quarter (due to you not realizing you needed approval for one course before registration and it filling before you could sign up) and you weren't too worried about the three tests you would have to take in a couple weeks. "could say the same to you."

mingyu let out another laugh, suddenly singing along to the song as he ran a hand through his hair. you smiled at his profile, then pulled out your phone to update your instagram story. as you moved the camera over to mingyu from the streetlight-lit road ahead of you, he laughed midway through a lyric and practically yelled "mwoya" at you, gripping the wheel with both hands and jumping in his seat.

you laughed hysterically, frantically saving the video before pointing the screen at him. he turned down the music to watch it, eyes flickering between your phone and the road. he laughed at the way it cut off on both of you screaming. "what was that?"

you giggled, swiping through filters. "you being dumb."

"you love me."

"you're right."

mingyu smiled at that, adjusting the stereo volume again, bobbing his head to the rhythm as he drove to the one convenience store in your town that sold his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream, a mission he had called upon you for at 11:30pm. when it switched over to a song you knew, mingyu noticed your subconscious humming to the tune and a few lyrics falling out of your lips, the wind from the open window whipping through your hair.

by the time you reached a small parking lot across town, you had yawned probably half a dozen times.

"tired?" mingyu pouted as he rolled up the windows and unbuckled his seatbelt. "sorry for dragging you out."

you shook your head, following suit and pulling yourself out of the car. "i slept too late, i think. i'll be fine."

you followed mingyu across the quiet street to the convenience store the two of you frequented perhaps too often, finding yourself there after late night study sessions or mid-barhop for ramen, snacks, and most importantly, the mint choco ice cream bar of mingyu's affections.

after perusing the options as if you hadn't been there earlier in the week, you picked out an ice cream bar as well as a couple bags of chips. you walked up behind mingyu at the register as he was pulling out his wallet.

"i'll pay if you come over and play smash," he said, nodding at your hands full of snacks.

you eyed him. "what's the catch?"

"you can't be mad when i play meta knight."

you groaned, but put your things on the counter for the cashier that was likely the same age as you both to scan. "fine. i'll still beat you."

mingyu grinned at you, and you snagged your ice cream bar off the counter as he paid, the other snacks getting put in a plastic bag. you grabbed the bag and held it open as mingyu retrieved his own ice cream, both of you peeling them open as you exited the convenience store.

"mm," you let out, mouth full of ice cream as you leaned against the metal bar meant to lock up bikes on the sidewalk. "it's nice out tonight."

mingyu agreed, biting into his treat. "it's refreshing but not too cold."

you nodded, watching cars pass on the street. "i can't believe it's almost summer already."

"me neither," he said, squatting in front of you as he ate. "we're gonna be seniors next year."

you groaned. "have you decided if you're doing summer quarter?"

he shook his head. "i decided against it. i only really have to take one extra course next year so it didn't feel worth it."

you nodded, looking down at him. he was looking to his left, absentmindedly watching someone walk their dog across the street.

after the ice cream was finished and you threw away your wrappers, mingyu cursed slightly at the fact that he still managed to get his finger sticky despite doing his best to avoid meltage. after he popped open your door, he dug in the glovebox for some wet naps, playfully knocking your knees aside as you tried to sit. you laughed, waiting for him to be done so you could put the bag of snacks on the floor in front of you.

when you met mingyu sophomore year, your hair was shorter and he was blonde. he had sat next to you in your shared ecology lab and promptly fell asleep before the class had even started, and you had to nudge him awake when the professor was handing out the syllabus.

"gah, fuck, i'm up," he waved a massive hand in your face, blinking away his sleep before focusing on you with furrowed brows. "you're not seokmin."

seokmin was his roommate, you learned, and also met a few weeks later when you went over to their dorm to work on assignments together. they've since upgraded to a compact but efficient three bedroom apartment and acquired another roommate. you stared out the window into the night sky as mingyu drove to said apartment, blinking heavily at the lure of a nap. you pulled your knees up to your chest and tried to listen to the song playing from the stereo.

only moments later, mingyu glanced over and noticed that your eyes had fluttered shut, your head lolling against the window. he wondered, staring at you in awe, how much longer he could pretend he wasn't in love with you.

when you and mingyu had first gotten to know each other, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, until you found out he had a boyfriend. even after they split almost four months later, and you had been there to bring him chicken and beer while he fumbled with the drawstrings of his sweatpants and rubbed his swollen eyes with the back of his hand, you decidedly resigned any feelings for him, knowing it was a lost cause for you to pine after a guy that didn't even like girls. hell, you barely even liked boys - you had gone on dates with six different girls, yet not a single guy since you came to university, and mingyu had sat on your bed while you tried to get ready, giving a concise "try again" when you showed him an oversized sweatshirt.

"why not this?" you asked, groaning.

"you have good proportions, bitch. show 'em off."

rolling your eyes, you rooted around in your closet for something less shapeless. your style had always skewed a little athletic, a little hip-hop. you bought mostly mens fit shirts, making the task slightly more difficult. you found a nice pair of high waisted jeans you hadn't worn in a while and paired it with a drop shoulder tee and a turtleneck, finally getting the approval of your best friend.

all of the facts laid in front of him led mingyu to believe you were completely and utterly gay, and even if you weren't, your taste in women suggested he was the exact opposite of your type. you liked petite girls. girls with long hair and that wore skirts and lots of rings. the kind of girls that you had to lean down to kiss.

so he continued to try out the pool of eligible bachelors in your area that were within a respectable age range. he had even tried to date some girls, but every time they tried to suggest the dates go further, he would think of the way his best friend's fingers had sent electricity through his entire body just by brushing an eyelash off his lip, or how you would trace the veins that ran through his wrist as you watched a movie together on your couch. the way your touch set his skin on fire. the way he wished he could just admit the way he felt about you.

he always smiled and said he'd call them sometime. he never did. it wasn't fair to them, but neither was him only ever asking them out because they reminded him of you somehow.

guys were easier, he thought. they didn't remind him of you.

mingyu was so caught up in the sight of you sleeping that he absolutely ran a red. he cursed under his breath when he realized the light he was passing under had been yellow for longer than he had thought, thinking how lucky he was that the cross street was empty. good thing he was almost home.

"hey, sleepyhead," he said when you stretched suddenly as he pulled into his parking spot. "do you wanna go home?"

you shook your head, yawning. "no, i need to eat chips."

he laughed and killed the engine. "you left a pair of house shorts here and you can borrow a shirt," he said, suggesting you crash in his bed when you got too tired for smash.

"what, you don't wanna carry me home?"

mingyu slammed the car door shut and shoved his hand in his pocket. "i'd rather not, no."

you stretched again, a hand reaching out to ruffle his dark hair as he tried to punch in the door code for you to enter his building. "mean."

he laughed at you again, leading you up the three flights of stairs to his apartment.

"hey, minghao," you said, waving at the shadowy figure that was seemingly melting into the couch, illuminated by the tv.

he raised a hand in acknowledgment, sitting with his neck at a 90 degree angle, a movie with subtitles on, and his phone face down on his chest. "yo."

"wanna play smash?" mingyu asked.

"no thanks."

mingyu dropped his keys on the kitchen counter. "we're playing smash."

"you're funny."

you laughed, and mingyu pouted. "please, myungho?"

minghao finally looked at his roommate. "i'm watching annihilation. the switch is handheld for a reason."

you watched mingyu roll his eyes with a smirk on your lips. he went over to the switch dock by the tv and grabbed the console, sticking his tongue out at hao. you giggled, following mingyu down the short hall to his room as minghao waved you both off.

"have i said that i like hao a lot?"

"yes," mingyu said. "like, every time you come over."

you smiled, throwing open his dresser and carding through the shirts that would surely be massive on you. "well i do."

the switch got tossed onto his bed and he sneaked around you to grab a pair of sweatpants from the drawer above the one you were looking in. he also pulled out the pair of shorts you had left, putting them on top of the dresser. "i'm getting naked now."

you shook your head lightly, knowing he was only changing his pants, but kept your back to him out of respect anyways. you picked up the shorts. "did you wash these?"

"yeah, i threw 'em in with my laundry last week."

you nodded, spotting the color you had been looking for. "aha!" you pulled on the ashy gray shirt, revealing one of your favorite things you had ever convinced mingyu to buy. an extremely soft, lightly distressed shirt with a tasteful rip along the neckline. "i'm getting naked now."

"clear," mingyu said, letting you know he wasn't looking as he flopped onto his bed, propping up the switch on his bedside table and setting up the controllers.

you pulled off your loose sweatshirt and swapped it for the borrowed shirt, then shoved the denim shorts down your legs, laughing lightly at how your sleep shorts completely disappeared under the shirt. you turned around, stretching out your arms to show how large the shirt was on you. "look."

mingyu rolled onto his back and propped himself on an elbow to look at you, giggling as you swam in his shirt. outwardly, he smiled, but internally, he thought this was simultaneously the worst and best idea he had ever had.

you looked absolutely stunning in his clothes, he thought, but only said that you were cute. he ignored the familiar feeling in his stomach and handed you a controller as you crawled onto his bed, settling on your stomach next to him.

he had to stop putting himself in this position. you were far too pretty for him to forget his feelings towards you.

but maybe that's what he wanted. maybe he didn't want to forget his feelings. maybe the few times you had told him his dates were attractive weren't just objective reassurances. maybe he held onto the sliver of hope that you could possibly be attracted to him, too.

you slammed your face into the bed as the game loaded. "why are all switch load times utter ass?"

mingyu adjusted so that he was laying on his side with an arm propping him up and flicked the back of your head. "because the console can fit in my palm."

your hand went up to swat at the culprit of the flick, and you pouted as you lifted your head to look at him. "that's not fair, your hands are huge." you wiggled onto your elbows to grab his wrist, pressing your palms together. "see?"

mingyu laughed, feeling his cheeks heat up. "well, you have baby hands, so." he punctuated his point by curling his finger over yours. you pouted again, then slipped your fingers between his, thinking about how nice his warm hand felt over yours.

you blinked, then pulled your hand away and grabbed the joycon as the game finally loaded the skippable intro, hoping you weren't blushing too much as you cleared your throat. mingyu stared at your pink cheeks for a moment, his mind reeling. was he seeing something that wasn't there? or was his hope in you validated?

you were clicking through the menu and felt his eyes on you, and all you wanted to do was hide behind your hair and avoid eye contact. you nearly jumped when mingyu cleared his throat.

"hey, i have something i've been meaning to ask you."

your eyes met his briefly. "shoot."

"do you…" mingyu paused, trying to think of the right way to phrase his question. "i know you have exes that are guys, but is that something you're, like… still into?"

your ears burned and you wiggled until you could sit back on your own legs, fiddling with the hem of the shirt you stole and hesitating to make eye contact. "you mean, being with guys?"

"yeah," he said, watching you intently with his brows furrowed.

"yeah, i mean, i guess?" you shrugged. "i like both."

mingyu nodded slowly, watching your eyes as they stared at the wall across his small room. your cheeks were a rosy pink, and you were chewing on your lip. "me too."

you looked at him finally, your eyes wide. "what?"

he gave you a crooked smile. "i like guys and girls, too."

if you were blushing before, now you were blazing. "oh, my god, i'm an idiot."

he laughed. "what, did you think i was, like, totally gay?"

"shut up," you threw yourself down onto his bed, hiding your face in the blanket. in your defense, he had definitely called himself gay before, but you definitely called yourself gay constantly, so maybe you shouldn't put so much weight in those words. "shut up, i'm embarrassed. i don't want to talk about it."

hearing mingyu laugh next to you made you feel like you were on fire, then you felt the ghosting of fingers on your arm. you froze. mingyu's voice was soft when he spoke again. "do you wanna talk about how i have a massive crush on you?"

you slowly raised your head to look at him, cheeks burning red. he gave you a small smile before you choked out a "huh?"

"i ran a red earlier," he said suddenly, his fingers moving from your arm to absentmindedly brush your hair out of your face, then to your shoulder, then back. it was a reassuring touch, one you had felt from him before, but you still were caught off guard by his sudden succession of confessions. "you were sleeping and i couldn't stop looking at you. i totally could have crashed the car."

"dude, what the fuck." you stared at him, then lowered your voice to imitate him. "'hey i have a crush on you and i almost killed us both because of it.' that's you, that's what you sound like right now."

mingyu laughed in your face and you couldn't help the chuckle that fell out of your mouth. "sorry i almost killed us."

"i guess i can forgive you," you said, picking at your nails suddenly despite them being clean. "especially because i might have a crush on you, too."

mingyu kept staring at you with a fond smile, and you wondered if he could also hear how hard your heart was beating. "can i kiss you?"

you looked at him, trying not to stare at his lips. you nodded, almost hurriedly. his hand pulled against your back as you rolled your body to face him, and your hand reached out for his jaw as he pulled you into him. and when his lips crashed into yours, you yelped slightly, melting into him almost immediately. they were plush against yours, and he was gentle as he pushed your back onto the mattress, adjusting to hover over you slightly. when you let your head fall back onto the bed, he grinned at your blown out pupils and swollen lips, buzzing at the way your hands curled around around his neck, fingers digging into the hair at his nape. he adjusted again, a hand finding your waist as he pulled back to let you swing your leg across his lap. you pulled him back over you, enjoying the way his hips hit the back of your thighs as he caged you in with an elbow by your shoulder. you stared up at him, heart racing, eyes flicking down to his lips too many times for him to not take the hint.

mingyu had always enjoyed pleasing you. this definitely felt like the next natural progression.

he dove into you, and your arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders. mingyu was a hugger, and he also liked wearing very little clothing when he worked out, so you knew what he looked like under the plain white tee. knew what he felt like. but suddenly - with his hands slipping under what was technically his shirt to properly feel your waist, with how his tongue fought with yours - you really felt him for the first time. the way his shoulder muscles rippled just beneath the skin as he adjusted, clearly trying to not make his growing bulge so obvious. you considered the fact that you might get to see how much leg day really benefited, considering how much he posted about it with sweaty post-workout pictures on his story.

mingyu felt your thighs squeeze around his hips, pulling back slightly. "is this okay?"

"is it?" you responded, a hand pulling back to fall on his jaw. "i've wanted you for ages."

he laughed lightly. "god, we're idiots."

you had no time to respond before he was kissing you again, his hips rolling into yours, pulling a surprised moan from you. he ate it up, his fingers gripping your waist tighter at the sound. you felt his girth as it pressed against you, and you gasped. when was the last time you had been with a guy? high school?

when mingyu's teeth bit down on your lip, you were really glad he was the guy you were unconsciously waiting for.

he tugged on your hips as he rolled onto his back, pulling you to straddle his lap. you giggled slightly, settling back into the open mouthed kisses as he ran his hands from your ass up your back, slipping under the sports bra you were wearing.

then there was a knock. you yelped, burying your face in his shoulder as you heard the door swing open. "make room for king k r- oh shit!"

you laughed into mingyu's neck as he yelled for seokmin to get the hell out, his hands tugging the hem of the stolen shirt over your butt in an attempt to shield it from view. you heard him squeak out an "i'm sorry!" as the door shut again.

"i'll kill him."

you exhaled, the laughter still on your lips as you looked at his profile from where your cheek pressed against his shoulder. "bet he thinks we're secretly dating."

mingyu laughed, scratching an eyebrow before returning his palm to your ass. "not a secret now."

"oh, so we're dating now?"

mingyu craned his neck to look at you. "is that not what was going to happen?"

you giggled, sitting up and putting your hands on his chest. you adjusted your knees, fully aware of how the movement would rub you against his still hard bulge. "we have both fucked people without dating them afterwards, kim mingyu."

"ah," he said, digging his fingers into your soft ass and rutting into you gently, making you gasp. "we're gonna fuck? i thought we were just joking."

you slapped his chest, giggling still as you rolled your hips. "if you don't wanna, i could ask hao-"

"oh, shut up," he said, pulling you down to kiss him. "if you liked myungho like that you would have tried it ages ago."

you smiled, your thumb running over his adams apple as you placed gentle kisses on his jaw. "sweetie, are we jealous?"

"i don't deserve this, you know?" mingyu pulled your hips against him again, a low grunt tumbling from his beautiful mouth. "i haven't put my dick in a girl since i met you and now i'm with you and you're talking about my roommate? this seems extremely mean."

you giggled again, then placed your lips on his again. he instantly kissed you back, one hand leaving your ass to go to the back of your neck. "you're the only guy i ever think about," you whispered, getting repeatedly interrupted by mingyu's needy lips on yours.

the wolf-like grin that broke onto his face sent chills down your spine. "let's keep it that way."

seokmin's hand was still on the doorknob, his wide eyes blinking, when minghao paused his movie and sat up to poke his head out and look down the hall. "the hell was that?"

he puffed out his cheeks as he walked back into the living room, his palms clapping gently. "i thought you said y/n came over to play smash?"

minghao's eyebrow quirked up. "she did."

the eldest sat on the couch. "i thought mingyu was gay?"

"what?" minghao looked down the hall again. "wait, what? were they-" he stopped when he heard a muffled groan that was far too familiar.

seokmin grabbed the remote and pressed play, scratching his cheek as he turned up the volume. "what are we watching? catch me up."

550 notes · View notes

vegalocity · 4 years ago

Text

The Tinkerer (Red Groom AU)

It took me a hot second to decide who i wanted to be Miracle Max because there was no way I WASN'T gonna put that scene in this AU

I decided on Syntax bc the other spiders haven't shown up yet and so why not

The house was little more than a glorified workshop; there were shelves of research notes and half finished odds and ends puled up on an open wall near the back, and Xiaojiao was unsure of whether they should be approaching the front door or coming in through the workshop area. Especially since the front door had a very clear 'No Longer In Business' sign hanging from it.

All the same it seemed like Sandy had all the confidence in the world in this 'Tinkerer' as he was known. As his usual grin didn't waver as he shifted his grip on the Not-Monkey King's body and approached the front door. Xiaojiao fell into step beside him of course, and upon Sandy's polite knock stationed herself between her friend and the question of what will be coming next.

A small peek window opened and Xiaojiao was suddenly making eye contact with a pair of very bright green eyes, nearly bioluminescent in their vibrancy, surrounded by a pale purple complexion not unlike the late Spider Queen's.

“We're closed.” The Demon stated firmly.

“Are you The Tinkerer?” She asked in reply.

The demon at the door snarled with a mouth of sharp teeth. “I was. And thank you for reminding me of what that wretched Prince did to my reputation, Why don't you throw a handful of dirt in my face while you're at it! Scram.” he shut the peek window. And Xiaojiao was far less polite when she knocked.

“I said beat it! Or I'm calling the brute squad.” The Tinkerer opened the little window again and glared her down, but Sandy leaned in at the offer.

“I'm on the brute squad.” he waved.

“You are the brute squad.” The Tinkerer agreed.

“Look, we heard you were one of the best healers in the region with your experiments and we're in desperate need.” Xiaojiao tried again.

“What part of 'was' did you not understand? Past tense. I'm Not in that business anymore. Besides-” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Why would you want a disgraced tinkerer to have a look at whoever you've got in mind anyway? I might kill them.” he said that last part in a mocking tone, clearly imitating the Prince in the false posh accent. The only thing stronger then The Tinkerer's sarcasm seemed to be his bitterness.

“He's already dead?” She tried one last time, and this time the Tinkerer seemed interested. He leaned forward a bit to peer at the Not-Monkey King.

“He is, hm?” He paused for a second, eyes flicking into nothing as he thought something over, before eventually shrugging. “Sure, bring him in. I'll take a look.”

The little home indeed was as small as the door implied, and in the living space there was in fact an extra door that lead to the outside workshop area.

Scanning the room for anything flat enough to lay the Not-Monkey King down on, Xiaojiao eventually started to clear the table of books—and there were many books in this house.

“Careful with those!” The Tinkerer chided but as she turned to hand them off instead of a more average demon aggravated and ready to take the tomes from her, she was met with a pair of metallic prongs infront of her, not dissimilar to the legs of a spider demon, and peering to the side a bit she saw that indeed, they were sprouting from The Tinkerer's back.

...Huh... Spider Queen had let on that she was the only spider demon in the area, to think there was another of her kind so nearby without her knowledge before she'd died... The Tinkerer's spider legs sprouted from his back which WAS a little odd since she'd always been told the hips were the usual area for spider legs, but he was using the other pair to better arrange the table for Sandy to put Not-Monkey King down onto it, so it didn't seem like they were a hindrance. She placed the books in the spare two prongs and said tomes were carefully deposited on an empty chair.

The Tinkerer strode over to the body and hemmed and hawed for a moment. “Well I've certainly seen worse.” He continued to prod at the body, and the running clock began to hold over Xiaojiao's head.

“Sir we're in a rush here-”

“Never rush a scientist, Miss.” The Tinkerer responded evenly. “Nothing makes an experiment go wrong quicker than rushing the scientist.” He fretted over the body a little longer, and his attention was on the corpse still as he spoke again.

“So how much is this worth to you both?”

“All we've got is Sixty-five.”

The Tinkerer scoffed. “I never work for so little.” He paused for a moment, considering. “Except for that one time, but that was a very noble cause.”

Xiaojiao thought fast “Sir this is a noble cause.” Though no one ever said she was any good at improvising. “His wife cannot leave the house after the accident, children on the brink of starvation-”

The Tinkerer was unmoved. “You're not a gifted liar, are you?”

Fine, if she couldn't make this happen with sympathy she may as well tell the truth. “I need him to help me avenge my father. Murdered these last ten years-”

“Your first story was better.” The Tinkerer cut her off with a scoff. “Probably owes you money, doesn't he?” he turned away from the body to rummage through a crate of strange looking devices. “Now where did I put the- Ah.” He pulled out a pump looking thing. “Well if you're not going to be giving me a straight answer I'll ask him myself.” Her thoughts spluttered for a moment.

“He-... He's dead he can't speak-”

The Tinkerer chuckled. “Oh, so now you're the expert, miss?” he shook his head. “No, your friend here is only mostly dead.” He began to turn a few knobs on the device before gently prying the Not-Monkey King's mouth open. “There's a very distinct difference between mostly dead and all dead you see.” He began to turn the crank on the device and slowly the Not-Monkey King's chest began to inflate. “If he were all dead there'd only be one thing to do.”

“What would that be?”

The Tinkerer smirked “Go through his pockets and see if there's anything worth selling. But Mostly Dead, is Slightly Alive. So there's far more options.”

Soon enough he stopped turning the crank and lifted the device from the Not-Monkey King's mouth. After handing the device off to Sandy, whom helpfully carefully set it back inside the box, the Tinkerer leaned in close to the body.

“Hey! Hello in there! Hey- What's so important? You got anything here worth living for?” he then placed both hands and two of his spider legs onto the Not-Monkey King's chest and pushed.

At first the wheezing noise didn't sound like much of anything, but then Xiaojiao was able to make out-

“'True Love'! You heard him!” She leaned forward to examine the body herself for a moment, but other than the faintest moving of his words, the Not-Monkey King remained still. And peeking back up at the Tinkerer he looked pale, mauve skin suddenly more of a sickly lavender. “You couldn't ask for a more noble cause than that, sir.”

“Well Miss, true love certainly would be a noble cause of all noble causes.” He agreed, before blinking once and shaking his head. “But that's not what he said! I've been hearing mostly dead groans for the better side of thirty years now, and I know 'To blave' when I hear it.” He waved a hand dismissively as he turned away from her. “And since you seem like those whom may not know 'To Blave' is an archaic way to say 'to bluff'. So here's my read on things, you lot were gambling on something or another and he was cheating so-”

“Oh for the love of- You CanNOT be serious, Syntax!” a raspy voice piped up, and emerging from one of the small rooms was another spider demon, this one looking far more traditional, with the obvious mandibles and four green eyes instead of The Tinkerer's two.

“Huntsman I am in the middle of something can you just-”

“You're in the middle of making yourself look like an obstinate fool that's what you're in the middle of!” The other spider, Huntsman, approached and grabbed The Tinkerer (Syntax apparently) by the arm. “What kind of coward has my brother turned into that he can't even say the truth when he refuses to do what he poured his life's work into?!”

“You have no idea what you're talking about-”

“You head him,You know what he said-” Huntsman turned to the two of them and were it not for the sadistic gleam in his eye Xiaojiao would have thought he was honestly trying to help them. More likely he just wanted to see his brother squirm. “He's turned into a coward ever since the prince fired him! He's been stuck in a rut for months now!”

“Hey! You said you wouldn't bring that up! You swore you'd let that drop!” The Tinkerer's voice went shrill with anger, and the smirk on Huntsman's face widened, showing off his far more pronounced fangs.

“What? That you got fired? You got fired!” and then in a routine Xiaojiao would more expect out of a play than from a pair of fully grown brothers, Huntsman began to chase Syntax around the little room, loudly crowing 'Fired' over and over again while Syntax made vague noises of distress. Eventually Huntsman got hold of his brother again, and this time he maybe actually looked concerned.

“What would mother say if she saw you puttering about like this?! You know how much she went on about 'True Love' and all that ilk! And Sure Goliath was the only one who ever believed her, but you don't even have the decency to say why you won't help?!” Syntax had his hands clapped over his ears and seemed to be trying to loudly tune Huntsman's words out. “What, one good for nothing Prince gives you the boot and you don't have a reputation anymore?! Where in the world did your Spider Pride run off to because sure as anything else it ain't here anymore!” Wait he meant THIS prince, right?

“This man is Red Son's lover!” she cut in. “If you heal him he'll stop at nothing to stop the Prince's wedding!”

That gave both spider brothers pause, and something sparked to life behind Syntax's expression, he took a step away from his brother and leaned over the Not-Monkey King's body to lean in close to Xiaojiao.

“Hold on, hold on. I heal him and the Prince suffers?”

Xiaojiao leaned in and shot him as big a smirk as she could muster. “What's more humiliating than having your groom run off on the day of your wedding? He'd be mortified.” Syntax smiled back at her, and cackled.

“Now that is a noble cause.” a pair of his spider legs rummaged through the bin again before pulling out a set of adjustable glasses. “Give me the sixty-five, I'm on the job.”

“You're welcome.” Huntsman sarcastically called out before sitting down in a nearby chair and crossing his legs.

Sandy seemed to take an interest in him, wandering over beside the spider and striking up conversation, but Xiaojiao had her eyes on the Tinkerer, and her hopes.

–

“So that's gonna heal him up?”

“Something along those lines. He'll be more alive than he is now.” By this point all three of them were leaned in watching The Tinkerer put his last touches on the cure pill.

“Huh, chocolate coating and everything” Huntsman chiming in every so often for color commentary. “Of course you're enough of a petty bastard to pull out all the stops for revenge.”

“You should wait about fifteen minutes so everything's got time to settle.” Syntax continued as though he hadn't spoken, finishing up the pill and sliding it into a leather pouch. “Oh, and don't let him go swimming for awhile, about an hour or so.” He handed the pouch to Xiaojiao whom quickly slid it into her pocket, and Sandy lifted the body beneath his arm again.

“Thank you so much for this Tinkerer.”

Syntax rolled his eyes. “Just make sure someone sees the Prince suffering so you can send me a letter detailing it.”

And then they were off.

“Don't die!” Huntsman called out as they left.

“Have fun storming the castle!” Syntax added on.

–

“Think it'll work?”

“Do I look like a miracle worker to you?”

–

But soon enough they were at the mouth of the mountain entrance. A small wall the only separating Xiaojiao, Sandy, and their only hope from what was supposed to be about 30 demons.

Key word, 'supposed to'.

“Xiaojiao there's at least sixty men there.”

“What?!” She hissed and poked her head out the side to confirm Sandy's observation. And sure enough-

“I could probably take about ten on my own, how about you my friend?”

“Twenty, assuming we're fighting to incapacitate.” Sandy added on very carefully.

“Damn it all.” She hissed. Before glancing back down at the body. “Well, no matter, we've got him. He'll think of something.”

“Has it been fifteen minutes?”

“We can't afford to wait any longer. The wedding's in half an hour!” She shuffled with the body until he was propped up against the wall and took the pill out.

It slid down his throat quickly and concisely, possibly aided by whatever swallowing reflex remained in his mostly-dead state.

“How long do we have to wait, before we know the experiment works?”

“Your guess is as good as mine-” A voice between them interrupted Xiaojiao

“I'll tear you both apart! I'll take you both together-!” Sandy covered the Not-Monkey King's mouth to cut off his desperate threats.

“I guess not very long.”

“Hey, glad to see you awake!” She went for the friendly approach, he seemed sympathetic to her plight when they were about to duel after all-

When Sandy uncovered his mouth the man remained quiet. “Why won't my arms move?” he finally settled on.

“You've been mostly dead all day, friend.” Sandy calmly explained, Xiaojiao quickly adding on that they'd taken him to The Tinkerer to heal him up before Sandy cut back in.

“You know I feel kinda bad just calling you 'The Man in Black' in my head, but now that we know you're human it feels kinda weird to call you Monkey King too, so do you happen to have a name for us to call you by?”

The man paused again glancing between the two of them. “... Who are you two? Are we still enemies?” He glanced behind him. “Why am I resting on this wall?” but the his expression hardened over. “Where's Red Son?!”

“Okay I can explain-” Wait- “...No there's too much. Let me sum it up, but Sandy's right I'm gonna need that name first.”

"Xiaotian. Now tell me.”

“Well Xiaotian, Red Son's marrying the prince in about half an hour, so what we've got to do is break in, stop the wedding, steal your fire demon back, and make our escape. After I kill the Six Eared Macaque.”

Xiaotian's expression tightened and his fingers began to twitch nervously.

“I'll admit that doesn't leave a lot of time for hesitating.”

“Oh hey Xiaotian! You just wiggled your fingers!” Sandy chirped. “That's great!”

“I've still got something resembling the immortality Monkey King loaned me I guess.” Xiaotian agreed. “What are we facing against?”

“One mountain entrance, guarded by sixty demons.” She grabbed hold of his shoulders and lifted him just enough that his head lolled back and he could see the gate.

“Okay, what do WE have?”

“Your mind, my sword, Sandy's muscle.” …. well that sounded pathetic now that she said it outloud-

“That's it? That's pathetic."... but he didn't have to SAY it-

"Maybe if I had a WEEK I could think of a plan but this?” he shook his head slightly.

“Hey! You shook your head too! You're getting better!” Sandy was clearly nervous, with how bright and sunny he was trying to be. Xiaotian tilted his head to the side just enough to turn to see him.

“Your strength, my mind, and her sword against sixty men to stop the love of my life from getting married and then assassinated by a power hungry tyrant-to-be and you think a little head jiggle is worth celebrating?” He hissed and Xiaojiao was about to throw out a hand in Sandy's deference, but as usual the implied insult did little to dampen Sandy's hard earned chill.

“I mean I'd hardly consider it asking for a lot to have a little more to work with! if we had a wheelbarrow that would be something!”

Wait...

“Sandy what did we do with that Wheelbarrow those demon twins had?”

“I think we just left it there after they ran off.”

Xiaotian's expression pinched. “Why didn't you mention that earlier?” But nonetheless she could see the gears beginning to turn in his head. “Ugh... Maybe if we had a dark cloak I could do that plan but-”

“Yeah no, sorry about that, friend.” But Sandy it seemed had other ideas.

“Will this work?” a long dark cloak was pulled from behind him.

“W-... Where did you get that?”

“At the Tinkerer's! That Huntsman guy said it was made for his brother but it was too big and it fit me, so he said I should just take it!”

“Alright alright. Long Xiaojiao was it?”

“Just Xiaojiao is fine.”

“Can you pluck one of my hairs for me and hold it up?”

“Uhhh?”

“Trust me.”

So she curled a finger around a strand of hair and plucked it from Xiaotian's head before holding it up before him.

He blew gently on the piece and directed her to toss it forward.

There was a shower of golden sparks and the hair had turned into a staff much like the one he'd been wielding when they'd met.

“Alright help me up and I'll explain things.” It was a bit of a struggle, Xiaotian had to be sandwiched between Xiaojiao and Sandy “Can one of you attach that to my back?” Sandy reached down and did so.

“You can't even lift it!” Xiaojiao huffed.

“Yeah but they don't know that.” Xiaotian countered, and... she didn't have a counterargument. “So it's going to be a mess when we start this whole thing, one problem after another-”

“I'll say.” She huffed. “I've got three off the top of my head, when we're inside how do I find the Macaque, when I'm done with him how do I find you again, and when I find you again how do we all escape?”

Sandy whom had been basically holding Xiaotian's head up for him during this exchange, tilted the man's head to rest against his chest. “Come on Xiaojiao, lay off the guy, he's had a hard day.”

“Right, Sorry.”

Sandy bobbed Xiaotian's head in an approximation of a nod.

“Hey Xiaojiao?”

“What is it?”

“I hope we win.”

#Red groom AU #Monkie Kid #LMK #Qi Xiaotian #Long Xiaojiao #lmk Sandy #lmk Syntax #lmk Huntsman #mk Sandy #Princess bride Au #Spicynoodleshipping #Vega writes stories too

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kae-karo · 3 years ago

Text

fic writer interview!

i saw @prince-liest do this and thus i will take ur 'tagging anyone who wants to do this' seriously lmaoooo (also hi btw hope ur well!!! 💜💜)

How many works do you have on AO3?

ahaha,,,,,159 lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

fdsjkkjlsfdklj as of today, 2,089,769

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

only three fsdjkldslfkj the phandom (dan&phil), bnha, and genshin!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

chosen (x) - zhongchi (genshin)

to love (and be loved in return) (x) - kaeluc (genshin)

little bird (x) - dabihawks (bnha)

feet don't touch the ground (x) - xiaoven (genshin)

i knew you were fire (x) - dabihawks (bnha)

honestly none of that surprises me except that little bird is still up there, although i think i owe that to sif (@the-final-sif) for sharing it around the time it got posted since it was partly inspired by her raptor stress grip post!!

the rest are all chaptered fics, which is mostly what i expected to be in the top 5 lmao

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

yes!!! always!!!! no matter what u comment, i will respond!!! and if i don't, it's probably cause ao3 didn't notify me properly or i didn't see it in my inbox or something

as for why, it's mostly to do with like...i know how hard it can be for some people to comment, even just a bunch of heart emojis or a 'i loved this!' or something short and simple? and it means a lot to me that ppl are going out of their way to say something nice, no matter how small, and it's really really important to me to acknowledge that

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

hmm,,,,,this is a hard one, cause for a very long time, my policy was that my fic would always have a happy ending? and for a long time, that was true!! but the dabihawks interaction (during the raid) broke me, and from an emotional standpoint, i think freeing icarus (x) is probably the one that has the angstiest ending of the two or so that i wrote in that time?

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

u know i really haven't written any crossovers? it's normally not my thing cause my brain typically focuses on a single thing and doesn't really have the capacity to think about more than that, so i end up writing just au-style or fusion-style (shoutout to that one bnha but it was scooby doo fic i wrote - x)

i don't think i'd be opposed to writing a crossover but i'd have to be SUPER inspired by the idea and both fandoms lmao

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

aha yes, i have. the only straight up hate i've received was on a kaeluc fic (surprisingly not because it was kaeluc, but bc i was 'mistreating' kaeya in the fic) - to be entirely fair, the commenter pointed out something that i hadn't realized myself, and it led to a second piece of the story that helped me tie up some loose ends, but...let's just say they weren't very kind about their feelings lmao

other than that, i had someone very upset because i didn't tag which character was bottoming in a fic (valid if that bugs u!) and they read through most of it before getting to the smut (and said that they enjoyed everything up to that point) then said they were 'disgusted' by it. i have opinions on that and a few other comments they made, but i will keep them to myself lmao

and beyond that, just a few ppl on my xiaoven fic saying that they were unhappy about the background kaeluc (which is tagged lmao) - really no hate whatsoever til genshin, honestly, which is...very hmmmm :) lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yep!!! mostly vanilla or vanilla-adjacent lmao i'm not super into heavy kink, although i know if epi reads this she's gonna call me out for being a monsterfucker bc of my dragon!zhongli smut :) lmaoooo but really i tend to write pretty vanilla smut! i also prefer to avoid any noncon/dubcon or hate sex or anything particularly angsty, just not my jam to write!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

hmm i don't think so? although i don't heavily monitor ao3 (or wattpad/ffn), so i can't really say that for sure lmao

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!!! i've had a few fics translated to russian (little bird is one of them!) which is very sweet and i hope that anyone who prefers to read in russian has been enjoying those fics!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

alksdfjklsdf only once, and it's deadass how me and rose got together. we decided to co-write a podcast au fic for the phandom (x) and ended up flirting via google docs asldkfjkldsfj

What’s your all time favourite ship?

what a horrible question, making me choose between my children like this!!!! sdlfkjdskf tbh i'm not sure i have a real answer bc it changes as i go? and 'favorite' is so vague,,,,,favorite to read? to write about? to think about? asdklfjkjsdfk i really don't know if i have an answer, but i'll maybe say kaeluc for now lmao

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

well first and foremost, with only 2 exceptions, i never post a fic unless it's done. i tend to follow wherever my passion leads my brain, so i'm notorious for jumping around between stories and taking breaks from long fic and returning later on to finish them, and i know that i would not do well under the pressure of posting something unfinished and trying to finish it in a timely manner

that said, many wips sit in my google doc folder, but one is Well Known as the one that has followed me through both the phandom and bnha (rose keeps asking who i'm gonna switch the chars to in genshin, but i think it suits bakudeku too well to do that) - only the lonely survive. it sits at like 36k in my wip folder, and i adore the story dearly and i want very much to finish it, but it never makes it quite to the forefront of my motivation, and so it rarely if ever gets worked on...i hate the idea of 'never' finishing it, but it's unfortunately quite likely that i won't 😭😭😭

What are your writing strengths?

emotion!!! and immersion!!! it's my goal in a fic to make it as immersive as possible and saturated with emotion to help convey that feeling of being in the place of the pov character, and i think i do it pretty well. also just bc i feel a little obligated to say it - another strength is actually sitting down and putting words down. i know that's a struggle for a lot of writers and i often get,,,,lovingly bullied? i guess? lmao for being able to bash out a few k in a day most days

What are your writing weaknesses?

this isn't so much a weakness i guess but i am basically incapable of treating crack fic as crack. if i have a cracky idea, it will, without a doubt, end up turning into a Perfectly Serious fic somehow (notable 'crack treated so seriously that it's no longer crack' fics include: todoroki doing the freeze-the-ocean thing from frozen 2, 'shmigaraki', todo and denki get together bc of vine references, the league sells feet pics, shiggy and natsu own a nightclub/bakery, scooby doo but make it bnha, and dabi getting his ears pierced at claire's)

but in all seriousness, i think my main weakness is that i often get comfortable? and i'm not one to typically push myself forcefully out of my comfort zone when it comes to stories that i come up with on my own, which often means that ideas inspired by discussions with others are what prompt me to branch out and try new things?

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i think, like anything, it has its place? there are certainly stories where it makes sense to do that and even adds depth to a story, although i personally am not exceptionally comfortable enough with other languages (except maybe asl) to do that in fic myself without the assistance of someone very comfortable with that language lmao

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

the phandom! not really my jam to write rpf anymore but it definitely got me started and i'm really grateful for my time writing there, as everyone was super supportive and kind, and it was really a perfect place for a beginner to get comfortable and practice

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

again, forcing me to choose between my children...i really don't know that i can pick one fic bc they all exist in such wildly different spaces? i poured my worldbuilding soul into the king of disaster series (mainly dabihawks - x), exile (dan and phil - x) was my first massively long fic, our hearts are heavy burdens we shouldn't have to bear alone (chayea - x) is probably my favorite character/character dynamic study, i'm exceptionally proud of the smut in chosen (zhongchi - x), the list goes on and on and on lmao like. i could probably list half my fics as favorites in some regard dsflkjdfsjkl

anyway, tyty bellamy for putting this on my dash so i could do it as well!!

tagging: literally anyone who wants to do this, i have so many writer friends slkdjfjklsdf but please please tag me if u do it so i can read urs!!! 💜💜💜

#writing

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saebyeog-i · 4 years ago

Text

a formal occasion | pcy (m)

“He could probably hear your muttering but not any specific words, so you waved your hands subtly in an attempt to reassure him that everything was fine, nothing unusual was happening, and your boyfriend definitely wasn’t talking about sex while seated in the third row pew of a church.”

genre | established relationship idolverse au, romance-ish?, softer than I intended this to be, half fluff/half smut, my attempt at humor, a mostly unedited one shot

warnings | uhhh inappropriate whispering during church, mentions of drinking and celebratory tequila shots, under the dinner table fingering does that count as exhibitionism, dirty talk on the dance floor, semi-public sex, I’m a slut for PCY in a suit (a soft, overly romantic and emotional slut, but a slut nonetheless).

word count | this is 6.66k because i’m going to hell

pairing | PCY x f!reader

—

“I wonder if they fucked in the last week,” he whispers in your ear, leaning over from his place next to you in the pew.

Your eyes bugged out, pupils the size of saucers as your brain caught up and processed. Did you hear him right? Did he actually just ask that? “Oh my god,” you muttered, not wanting to cause a scene or feed into his poorly timed query.

“The dress is really pretty, she looks good, though the white’s not really accurate given… you know,” he gestured his hands vaguely in front of him, low enough that only you could see. “Now that I think about it, I can’t even count the number of times he bailed on plans with me or the guys to go hang out with her in the last six months. But I guess now we know it wasn’t just hanging out as much as it was—”

“Chanyeol!” You hiss, eyes darting around to see if anyone heard him.

“What?” He jeers back in a hushed tone, “It’s not like it’s a secret— ow!”

Were this a conversation the two of you were having in private (namely, in your own apartment or bed), then maybe your reaction would be different other than you reaching under his suit coat and pinching the flesh of his oblique muscles harshly between your thumb and forefinger. But it wasn’t in private— you were in public, in a church no less, at Jongdae’s wedding.

“Shut. Up. Now,” you muttered lowly through gritted teeth. They were only on the first reading, so there was roughly another half hour before the ceremony would end, depending on how long each subsequent reading and the vows would take. Even if his mind was wandering somewhere slightly inappropriate, you were grateful that despite being a groomsman you were able to be seated next to your boyfriend for the duration of the ceremony. Chanyeol knew you well enough by now to know that you really didn’t like just being an accessory if you accompanied him somewhere specifically as his date. Maybe it was selfish, but truthfully it was more because you barely got to spend time with him as it was with his busy schedule, but you preferred when he could stay by your side like this.

You knew most of the boys’ partners, and you all got along well. Hell, it was even you and Jongae’s soon to be wife who had the idea for all of you to get together when the boys were on tour last and have a good ol’ fashioned ‘girls night’, whatever that meant. (Wine. It meant entirely too much wine and an hour of promising you were going to take turns cooking different snacking foods only to end up ordering delivery. Though instead of sappy romantic comedies, the lot of you watched some zombie apocalypse movies and a few comedy specials. All in all, a good night.)

Even though you’d been together for almost two years, you still felt slightly anxious any time you accompanied him to an event, public or private. Publicly, you were just among the throngs of ‘Guests of EXO’, usually not getting to spend any time close to him. Privately, however, you were able to be glued to his side— not that Chanyeol would have it any other way. You were more on the introverted side of the spectrum, and sometimes having such an extrovert for a boyfriend was downright exhausting. But he’d been so excited to bring you along to the wedding, saying that it was the first big happy life milestone for a member of the group, and he wanted you to be a part of it.

It didn’t take too long for him to convince you, either. Once it became clear how far their management would go to protect the details of the event and keep as much of it as private as possible, you felt more at ease about joining him. You had your fair share of qualms about the label, of which Chanyeol was well aware (let’s just say you didn’t have the tightest lips when you’d been drinking), but so far today was handled better than you’d expected.

“Seriously though—” he whispered, tilting his head towards you again.

“Zip. It. We are in a church,” you shot back, locking eyes with him. On his other side, you could see Junmyeon leaning slightly forward, eyebrows raised and giving you both a questioning look. He could probably hear your muttering but not any specific words, so you waved your hands subtly in an attempt to reassure him that everything was fine, nothing unusual was happening, and your boyfriend definitely wasn’t talking about sex while seated in the third row pew of a church.

Said boyfriend held his hands up defensively, shoulders shrugging as he muttered under his breath “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking! Everyone knows you can still have sex while you’re earlier on in a pregnancy—”

“Yeol!”

⬷ ❤ ⤐

Miraculously, you made it through the remainder of the ceremony without any mishaps and Chanyeol keeping any additional commentary to himself. The reception was held at a lovely partially outdoor venue with a garden and a large white tent, with plenty of room for dancing socializing. The number of invited guests was more than you’d anticipated, but then again, you guessed that Jongdae was a popular guy. You were seated at the head table with the rest of the bridal party, nursing a vodka soda while you watched the bridesmaids and groomsmen give their speeches.

And then it was time for the first dance of the newlywed couple.

Of course there was live music at this event— why wouldn’t there be? When the groom was a member of the nation’s boy group, it would have been near criminal not to have some nod to his livelihood. Chanyeol had been beaming with pride when he and Baekhyun had been asked to perform for their first dance, insisting that it was always their first choice, and not just because Kyungsoo was only able to get off base the day of the ceremony for leave from his enlistment and wouldn’t be able to rehearse at all. He also definitely didn’t count this as ‘sweet retribution’ for the tiny grudge he definitely didn’t still hold over his sister and the fact that Yoora had asked Kyungsoo to sing at her wedding for her first dance instead of him.

Watching Chanyeol perform on stage with the rest of his members or for his subunit with Sehun was always a treat, but there was something markedly special about watching him perform like this: playing an instrument, this time an acoustic guitar, side by side with Baekhyun on a pair of barstools. They were playing some love song you recognized but didn’t know the words to, and Baekhyun’s voice was doing a beautiful justice to the song. Every now and again, Chanyeol would lean forward into the mic angled in front of him and harmonize. They’d only rehearsed this a handful of times, what with busy schedules and each of them working on preparations for comebacks soon, but it still sounded heavenly to you. You watched appreciatively, even taking a moment to look around at the guests to see a number of cell phones out to film them.

For a while, it was if Chanyeol was in his own world that was just him, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and his now wife. But as the song approached its end, his eyes fluttered open and his gaze drifted to where you sat. You’d seen him through a plethora of different hair styles and colors in the time you’d been together, and while you loved his natural black hair, a different part of you was fond of the bleached blond hair he was currently sporting for filming a comeback music video. You smiled shyly, looking down at your glass for a moment before back up at him, the alcohol and the long day swirling together to make you feel just a little bit warm. He was the self proclaimed romantic of the group, the one who cried the most, and the one who talked about his feelings the most. Despite his stature and his sometimes intimidating persona when on stage, he was no more ferocious than a teddy bear, and you loved him all the more for it.

By the time the song had finished and he and Baekhyun had made their own rounds with the guests who wanted to say hello, compliment their performance, or ask for the occasional photo, you’d gotten just a little bit sleepy. You were chatting with Jongin, asking how his recent tour and promotions were going, and he was telling stories of their recent show in Paris and how it was very different from the last time he’d been when you felt a pressure on the top of your head.

“Can I help you? You’re going to ruin my hair.” You didn’t need any indication of who was leaning almost their entire bodyweight on top of you. He was getting restless, so of course he was getting clingy.

“Was I good? Tell me I was good. You liked it right? Gosh, I know I’m so talented and so handsome, you’re really lucky to have a boyfriend like me,” he went on and on, fishing for praise and you rolled your eyes, looking to Jongin for some kind of aid. He only laughed, holding up his phone to snap a photo before firing it off into some group chat or another. You made a mental note to file this moment away for reference if there ever came a future time when Jongin would make pleading eyes for you to come to his rescue as he had so kindly failed to do for you just now.

You whined as Chanyeol leaned further forward, going deadweight on top of you at your lack of response. “Yah! Too heavy, you’re gonna crush me!” Of course he started to laugh, and of course he relented finally, pulling out the chair next to you and settling down. He flipped over his phone which he’d left on the table and began scrolling through his unread notifications, left hand reaching over to rest on your knee but his focus staying on his screen, so you turned back to the others to continue polite conversation.

Chanyeol was a very physical person. He was very touchy feely. But he wasn’t exactly big on PDA, unless you were in trustworthy company. It was not unusual for him to keep a hand on your arm, your leg, your waist, even if his attention was focused elsewhere when you were in such company. It was a slightly possessive habit of his, but not one you minded all that much. It was comforting, really, a reminder that he was still right there.

You never really minded it all that much until, that is, you felt that slightly possessive hand snake its way under the skirt of your dress via the slit on your right leg and up your thigh. You were mid sentence answering a question from Yixing about your most recent vacation when you felt Chanyeol’s fingers making their way under the fabric of your underwear and drawing circles on your hip bone. That was all fine and dandy, until a moment later when you felt his hand reach further over towards your core and then the pad of his thumb rub two harsh circles over your clit in quick succession, causing you to inhale sharply at the sensation and choke on whatever unimportant words were coming out of your mouth at that moment. You were definitely more awake now than you were five minutes ago.

“Babe? You okay?” He had the audacity of asking you, feigned concern spread across his face.

You grimaced and nodded, inching your chair forward slightly so your lap was covered by more of the tablecloth. Chanyeol’s fingers retreated to your hip bone. “Mmm. Just uh, a cramp, that’s all,” you turned back to Yixing with a smile and finished your earlier sentence as your phone buzzed on the table in front of you.

Quickly, you pulled it into your lap to read the message.

찬열 20:04 I thought your period was last week?

You really never should have given him shared access to the health app data on your phone where you tracked your cycle. Seriously. But he had asked, insisted even, saying that he wanted to be aware so he couldn’t know when you needed a restock on tampons, or maybe when having some extra dark chocolate lying around the house would be appreciated.

20:06 It was, you’re just a monster and it was the first excuse I could think of.

찬열 20:07 But if you really didn’t like it, you’d tell me to stop, wouldn’t you?

You shot him a dirty look and had half a thought to step on his toes with the heel of your shoe under the table. As if he could read your mind and your intentions, he retaliated preemptively by slipping two fingers back under the fabric of your panties and between your folds. You bit down on the inside of your mouth, hard, unwilling to be caught by any of the people surrounding you.

But he was right. You didn’t really want him to stop. If you were being honest, you’d been just a little bit horny all day— something about everyone dressed up all dapper, specifically Chanyeol in a suit with his hair styled up on the top like it was now. You felt the slightest hesitation in the movements of Chanyeol’s hand, and you knew it was in slight surprise to the amount of moisture he found. Eyes still focused on his phone screen, his fingers found their way inside of you and curled as he gave two drawn out pumps, placing pressure right where you felt it the most.

찬열 20:11 You’re so wet… have you been thinking about this all night? Fuck, you’re dirty

20:12 Shut up shut up shut UP Just fucking do me or don’t or I swear to god, Yeol

찬열 20:13 Oh okay, I’ll stop

“No,” you hissed out, a hand grabbing his wrist and stopping him from removing his fingers from inside of you. If he was going to tease you this much, he was going to finish the damn job. Across the table from you, you saw Minseok raise his eyebrows curiously at you while sipping on his glass of red wine. Like Kyungsoo, he’d also only been able to take leave from his enlistment for a single night, and it would be the only night he’d get for months yet to come, but he’d even said there was no way he was going to miss this.

The conversation around you resumed, and you politely remained as engaged as you could while your boyfriend was knuckle deep inside of you. and nodding when appropriate. You sighed out and relaxed against the back of your chair, inching your hips forward and meeting his fingers on a thrust inward as Chanyeol quietly and lazily fucked you with his hand. He was mostly just teasing you, lightly stoking the flame in the pit of your belly, keeping your desire going but never satisfying it. It was like he was timing his movement, his slender and well trained fingers never paying enough attention to any one part of your center to actually put you over the edge.

You could feel the crown of your head becoming damp with sweat. God, was he really able to work you up this much in public? Did you have a thing for exhibitionism? Did he? You’d never spoken about that as a potential kink together, but maybe based on your body’s reaction to current events it warranted a conversation later—

“Shit,” you coughed out quietly after one particularly hard thrust of his fingers and a rub on your clit almost sent you spiraling. Did Minseok just snicker? No, no way, he was talking to Junmyeon and his date, he wasn’t paying attention to you and Chanyeol. Involuntarily your walls clenched around him and you leaned forward covering your mouth with your napkin, trying to hold in a moan as you tapped out another message.

20:26 Could you PLEASE stop edging me and either make me cum or get your hand out of my pants while the rest of your friends are five feet away?

찬열 20:29 Mmmm you know I was thinking about it But now that you say it like that, no. Maybe if you asked nicely.

20:30 Fuck you I said ‘please’

찬열 20:32 Is that a threat or a promise?

Before you could even muse a comeback let alone type one out, Chanyeol quickens his pace, and one, two, three brushes against your clit and you’re tumbling over the edge. It was by far not the strongest you’d ever orgasmed on Chanyeol’s hand, and honestly you were grateful— it made it possible for you to (you thought) remain calm, demurely raise your water glass to your lips, and take a long drink while your eyes fluttered closed and he worked you through the waves, like a slow undulation washing over your body in warmth.

Were you not actively in the middle of dozens of people, you would have half expected him to bring his fingers to his mouth and suck the cum off of them. You fantasized briefly about him doing it anyways, pinching the top of your thigh to snap out of the post-orgasm daze and remind yourself of your surroundings. Calmly, he wiped his hands on the napkin in his lap before glancing your way with a smile plastered on his face and planting a tender kiss on your cheek.

“What was that for?” You asked, your voice breathier than you’d intended. Even if it wasn’t that strong, the high mixed with the alcohol had you dizzy, drunk on wine and his affection and you thought again how good he looked in that suit.

“Nothing,” he grinned even wider, “I just love you, that’s all.”

You let out a sharp laugh, flicking your eyebrows up critically as you began thinking of ways to get back at him later.

Junmyeon’s eyebrows furrowed as he called your name and asked, “Have you had enough to eat? You look a little flushed. Too much to drink maybe?” He offered hesitantly, ever the one to be caring and concerned.

Minseok rolled his eyes and snorted. “Sure, that’s all she’s had tonight.”

“What?” The leader asked, not quite catching on.

“Ah Myeonnie, I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Minseok mused, leaning back into his chair with a cheshire grin as he drank from his glass some more.

You were, of course, nothing short of mortified.

⬷ ❤ ⤐

The following hours passed and slowly, guests began drifting away, and the crowd reduced down to only a few dozen attendees as the clock neared midnight. You had finally gotten to see Jongdae and his now-wife and congratulate them on their marriage, and on the beautiful ceremony and how much fun the party was. You’d lost count of the number of drinks you’d had, and Chanyeol had stopped his intake an hour or so ago in order to sober up and drive home, only remembering that somewhere before that Yixing had convinced everyone to do two rounds of tequila shots together. One because they were all together again for the first time in ages as he lamented that only Jongdae could reunite the family, and two when he realized that the bride was unable to join in the celebration. “We all have to drink for her because she can’t!” He’d jeered to the group, immediately waving for one of the bartenders to supply the second round. You’d giggled at his antics, but no one objected as the glasses were refilled and lime wedges passed around again.

The music had switched to a DJ at this point, and after a long stretch of high energy popular dance songs to which you heard the drunken clamor of main vocalists croon humorously off-key to, the last few had been softer, quieter slow songs. You’d finally relented and taken your shoes off, feet aching after the last several hours, and were currently swaying side to side in a lazy slow dance with your arms draped around Chanyeol’s shoulders, face halfway buried in his chest. To avoid the chances of him accidentally stepping on your bare toes, you were balancing with the bridges of your feet over his dress shoes. You’d done this a few times before, always feeling a little shy about it, worrying that you were too heavy. And yet, every time, he’d insist that no, it was fine, with a kiss on your lips or your cheek or the corner of your eye. He rather liked you relying on him like this.

It was so rare that you got to spend an entire day with him like this, surrounded by friends and chosen family. Despite how anxious you’d been earlier about this day, you felt yourself falling more in love with him as you looked into each other’s eyes. Usually a comfortable silence would be appreciated, but there was a glint in his gaze and you were compelled to ask him what he was thinking about.

“Just thinking,” he murmured into your ear, “Of when it might be our turn.”

The way your hands suddenly tightened around his was something you couldn’t help. “Cut it out, seriously Yeol. Stop teasing me, I thought you’d have had your fill with earlier,” You had to look away, pressing your forehead into his chest shyly as you thought of how you’d quietly excused yourself to go to the restroom and clean yourself up from his ‘handiwork’ under the table.

“You know I can never have enough of you,” he murmured in earnest. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you, you know.” Your ears burned at the whispers. “Really though— pregnant with my child or not, if someone told me I had to go a whole week without feeling your sweet cunt, I don’t think I could do it.”

You clenched your thighs together, the ache from earlier returning full force.

“You’ve done it before, you could do it again. What are you, some kinda sex addict all of a sudden?” you mused, thinking back to the times he went on tour and you were left settling for breathy moans through phone calls at odd hours due to time differences and insane schedules. The heat inside you began building again, thinking of the frantic reunions that always followed those long stretches without one another.

Chanyeol’s laugh was lodged deep in his chest, and you felt the vibrations as you kept yourself pressed against him. “The less of that the better. Being inside you feels too good to willingly deprive myself of that.”

Your cheeks flushed once more. What was up with him today and the sex talk in public? This time wasn’t so bad, considering between the music and the distance from the people still gathered your conversation felt somewhat private—at least, more private than when you were seated in church pews. Clearly he was horny given this evening’s earlier events, but you didn’t think it was this much.

You continued to sway together in relative silence while Chanyeol began to hum absentmindedly to the song playing, one you recognized as the group’s own. And then you had a thought, and you were feeling bold, and so you gave the thought life and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a thing for weddings and formal events.”

His grip on your waist tightened.

“I’d think maybe, you get off on dressing up all nice, the whole wine and dine, everyone seeing you look so good,” you paused, mulling over the next thought briefly before continuing, “Though we already know you get off on the attention. That must be why every time you come home from performing you can’t wait to slam my back to the mattress and fuck me into next week, huh?” You teased, rocking your hips forward just enough to press against the front of his dress pants.

In doing so, you weren’t disappointed. Your thought was, more or less, correct. You rocked your hips forward subtly once more, relishing in the feeling of his growing hard on against you. “You just can’t stop thinking about pulling me into the nearest closet or bathroom and getting balls deep in me, can you?” This, you thought as your boldness grew, was payback for earlier.

He pushed away from you suddenly, and you backed off of his feet, stumbling. You were about to apologize, thinking you’d gone too far, when he wrapped his hand around your wrist and growled lowly, “We’re leaving. Now.”

You pulled your lips between you teeth in an attempt to stifle the giggles that threatened to erupt through you as you trailed along after him, retrieving your coats and bags from the chairs at the table as he quickly said goodbyes and gave handshakes and half-hearted hugs to anyone he deemed important enough in those two minutes. You grabbed your heels and quickly slipped them back on, not bothering to buckle them as you did you best to keep up with Chanyeol’s long legs whisking you towards the parking lot of the venue.

“I can’t believe you got me hard in the middle of the dance floor,” he said, voice hushed and gravely.

“I can’t believe you fingered me under the table,” you retorted, watching as he fumbled through his pocket with his free hand and retrieved his car keys.

“I still can’t believe you let me,” he laughed in response, clicking twice and listening for where his vehicle was parked. At the sound of the beep, his eyes widened and he began outright running, and you whined at the feeling in your feet as you somehow managed to keep up with him. “God it was so hot, you did so good baby,” he cooed as the two of you reached his car. He released your wrist only to pull you close to him and cup your cheeks in his palms and place a searing needy kiss against you, which you happily returned. “Please,” he whined as he pulled away, “It’s not a bathroom or a closet but please will you please let me fuck you in the back of my car? I don’t wanna wait til we get home.”

You couldn’t even bother keeping up with idea of teasing him because seeing him so hot and bothered in that suit had you feeling needy and willing for anything. You nodded enthusiastically and he sighed in relief, opening the door to the backseat and a hand flying to the zipper of your dress and tugging it down in one go before pushing you inside.

Usually, you made fun of the deeply tinted windows when you rode in his car with him, asking him if he could even see out the windows to drive. Now, however, you were silently grateful for them, because there was no way in which you could fathom waiting until the two of you got home.

Your heels dropped off to the floor of the back seat. His suit coat was thrown tersely over the head rest of the driver’s side. The straps of your dress fell down your arms, and he trailed kisses from your neck to your collar bone to the space between your breasts, hands snaking around to your back and nimbly undoing the clasps on your bra. You reached for his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons and yanking them down less tenderly than he had your dress— maybe that was because you knew he had plenty of pairs, and he knew this dress had been a more expensive splurge for you. His hands gently bunched the fabric of your skirt upward as you raised your hips, pulling the garment off over your torso and attempting to throw it carefully towards the back of the car. You began undoing the buttons on his collared shirt from the bottom and when your hands met in the middle after he’d started at the top, he grabbed hold of them to pull you forward in a another kiss, holding you so tight you would have thought your lungs were the only source of his air.

“Ow! Shit shit shit,” he cried suddenly, having raised his head up too quickly to finish ridding himself of clothes and slamming it against a fixture on the ceiling.

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out. “You okay? We can just go home if it’s too cramped— oh,” your words were cut off with a moan as his fingers found their way back into your center, and you had your answer. The cramped space didn’t matter, the throbbing on the top of his head didn’t matter, the only that that did matter was you and him and how he made you feel.

He caged himself over you, curving his back to dip his head down to reach your neck to bite gently at your skin and leave faint marks in his wake while his fingers continued to work at your clit. You raked your nails down his skin, head falling back and eyes rolling with it as he pushed you higher and higher. “Stop, stop stop— any more and I’ll cum, I wanna cum with you, please,” you begged, forcing your eyes open and taking his hand in yours to remove him from you.

Chanyeol looked to the side of a moment before sighing in defeat. “No condom,” he said sullenly, lips forming an adorably disappointed pout, “We ran out of the extra stash last month, forgot to replace it.”

You thought for a minute, heavy panting filling the silence in the close confines of the car. “Well, I was going to wait for an anniversary or a special occasion to tell you, but… I changed my birth control last month,” you admitted, your unoccupied hand trailing up his abdomen to his chest, “And instead of a pill that I could forget to take, I now have an implant that’s always there, so…” you trailed off, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in your best attempt at seduction.

Chanyeol let out a deep and guttural groan. “Fuck, fuck please baby does that mean what I think it means?”

There was something about seeing your big strong boyfriend reduced to a whining for you that redoubled your confidence and gave you the willpower to take his hand, still covered in your wetness from just a moment ago, and take his fingers into your mouth and suck them clean. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly, eyes watching your lips the whole time.

“It means,” you said lowly after removing his fingers from your mouth with a pop, “That I want you to lay back and let me ride you until you cum inside me.”

Your boyfriend let out a shaky breath, gaping at your bold words and actions. “Fucking hell, I was just gonna say let me eat you out and I’d settle for a hand job but oh my god this is so much better,” his mouth was on yours as he pulled you close again, and you smiled into the kiss as you felt his dick twitch against your thigh.

It wasn’t the first time you’d forgone a condom with Chanyeol, but it wasn’t a frequent occurrence. The only other time you could remember off the top of your head was when he was away on tour, and your work had miraculously sent you on an overseas business trip that landed the two of you in the same city for a night. Between being a few hundred miles from home and the shared need for one another, you both ended up saying you’d just deal with the morning after pill tomorrow.

But none of that was of concern now. Now, you straddled his thighs and pushed him back, taking control of the moment. You kissed him again, slower than before, mapping the insides of his mouth with your tongue. “Ready?” You asked, circling your hips over him, cupping his face in your hands like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“God I love you,” he whispered back, stroking his hands down your sides. Slowly, with as much patience as you could muster, you lowered yourself on to him and felt your neck go limp as you adjusted to the size inside of you, a heady groan finding its way out of you. “Oh my god,” he croaked, bringing his hand to his mouth to bite on his thumb from the overwhelming sense of pleasure he felt. You hated that the thought crossed your mind, but you really could feel him so much more like this. As you purposefully clenched your walls around him once, you wondered if he felt the same. The string of curses that left his mouth answered your question.

“Good?” You asked with mirth, and he nodded feverishly, hands returning to your hips and pulling you forward. You swatted him playfully in response. “Hey, my turn on top, I set the pace,” you teased. It wasn’t often that you were courageous enough to take charge, so you wanted to relish in it as much as you could.

He laughed and pulled his hands back, holding them up defensively. “Your wish is my command, do your worst.”

You laughed out a single breath. ‘Challenge accepted.’ Fully adjusted to his size now, you rolled your hips forward slowly and snapped them back again.

The teasing comments and banter quickly subsided, replaced with only soft exhales and the sound of skin against skin. You could feel your thighs growing tired as you continued to raise and lower yourself on him, trying to stay active and make it as pleasurable for both of you as you could. But it had been a long day, and you were still tipsy, and you almost just wanted to make him come and get it over with so you could go home and fall asleep together.

Almost.

As if he could read your mind, Chanyeol’s open pouting lips curled up into a smile and and thrust up into you, meeting your hips on a movement down that had both of you gasping as the coil of heat in your belly began to bloom. You began rocking back and forth as he laid back more, the new angle reaching deeper and making you see stars.

“M’close, m’so close Yeol,” you moaned out softly. His right hand went down between you and began rubbing on your clit once more, while his other hand clasped yours, threading your fingers together. You held on for dear life, like he was the only thing that could anchor you to this plane of existence.

There was something so strangely intimate about the simple act of holding hands while fucking the love of your life that notched you just high enough to go spiraling over the edge into your orgasm. It washed over you in waves, and Chanyeol kept thrusting up under you, working you through the aftershocks until he came himself, a low throaty groan coming through his lips as you felt his cum paint your walls and his hand finally fell away from your core. You whined at the feeling, collapsing on top of him as a shudder ran down your spine, every inch of your skin overly sensitive like a livewire.

He kept one hand intertwined with yours and took his free one to brush his thumb across your cheek and tuck the stray hairs that had fallen out of place behind your ear. So gentle, so tender, but when you sat up again to plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that meant he had something to say. You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting as you continued to try and reclaim steady breathing.

“Is this gonna be an all the time thing now? Because I’m not gonna lie, I might just bust a nut again right now if you tell me this is gonna be an all the time thing.” Even in the moments after sex, he still managed to have entirely too much energy and could talk your ear off. Nothing about the every day moments was ever too serious with Chanyeol. Somehow, there was always a sense of playfulness

You shushed him with another kiss on his lips and laughed. “Don’t nut again but yeah, I guess this can be an all the time thing now.” You knew he was kidding because he wasn’t even hard again inside you. Yet.

“Ahh! Ahh!” Chanyeol began letting out faked moans and fucked his hips up and into you, throwing his head back dramatically and pretending to come once more.

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah but I’m your dork,” he replied, his finger tapping the tip of your nose playfully.

You pulled your face away, trying to think up some snarky remark to give him shit, and instead could only smile and let out a small laugh under your breath. His palms gently pressed to your lower back, holding you to him as if you’d disappear the moment he let go. Your hands returned to his face, thumbs brushing across his cheeks once more as you leaned in and kissed him again, slower and deeper than before. Everything you’d been through together, every secret meeting and fear of exposure and invasion of privacy, often times it felt like it might be too much— until you had moments with him like this, relishing in the feeling of connectedness and warmth and him.

After a short while of your head pressed to his chest and his hands gently stroking your back, you felt him begin to shift under you and pull out. You whined at the loss of him filling you and the skin to skin contact you craved, thinking for a heartbeat that you could just stay like this with him all night. He laughed softly, laying tender kisses all over as he mumbled apologies for needing to move, something about the side door of the car not being the most comfortable thing to have pressed against his back. He reached into a seat back pocket and fished out some stray napkins, using them to clean up the cum that spilled from you when you shifted off of his lap.

As the two of you redressed lazily and only enough to feign a sense of public decency and you crawled your way into the front passenger seat, you let out a yawn.

“Mmm see? Now we can go home and cuddle in bed,” he teased, ambling his way into the driver’s seat and buckling up as he pressed the ignition on the vehicle. Soft music filtered through the speakers, demos of his own work that he only let you listen to while they were still rough, and you felt overwhelmingly at ease with him.

With your head resting on your hand as you stared out the window at the Seoul city skyline, you felt a sense of calm settling over you, daydreaming of the softness of your shared bed that was waiting for you to collapse into it as soon as you got home. You could see from your peripheral Chanyeol’s gaze flicking over to you and then back to the road ahead as he came to a stop at a red light. “Hmm?” you mumbled, wondering if something was wrong for a moment as you shifted your gaze over to him.

“Okay, but seriously, how many times do you think they had sex today?”

“Chanyeol!”

—

author’s note | sksksksks oh my god this was so bad I am so sorry I just could NOT let go of this idea please don’t hate me I drank an entire bottle of soju and watched a supercut of the EXO section of the 2019 SM Town concert in Japan when OT6 performed in those fucking suits and then I wrote the first draft of this, sue me. Yeol really is just a big puppy that can’t let go of a question or an idea once it crosses his mind. my smut is always gonna be this kind of soft unless I’m feeling extra angsty just so you know

#chanyeol #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol smut #chanyeol x reader #pcy x reader #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo oneshot #chanyeol oneshot #exo x reader #swamp witch writes #i'm only finally posting this because i'm tired of working on it even tho i kinda hate it whatever #sometimes i think i'm funny #this is mildly inspired by the time i distracted the parents of the brides for 40min #so that they could go fuck in a closet after they were officially married #i make a great bridesmaid lemme tell you

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mcytbdamofficial · 4 years ago

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A strange question. If the official DSMP lore of (a) character/s ever heavily changes from what you wrote it as (in example, if c!Velvet turns out to be long dead or the velvetisegg theory is true, or any of the major characters- that their canon lore starts being majorily different), how do you come up with things that would make them "fit in" again? I am just genuiely curious about that

usually a good way to go around things like that is to fall back on what i've already established and try to spin it in the right way. a good thing to use is the nether lore as well as everything with the memories - things like that are unpredictable and pretty much anything can come to light at any point.

(this answer went on for a while longer than i expected so i’ll put it under the cut in case there’s someone scrollin who doesn’t want this whole thing clogging up their dash)

a good example would be the sbi family canon - when phil first shouted the words "you're my son!" a lot of people instantly thought that techno, wilbur and tommy being his sons had been basically canonized (obviously this got debunked later with only wilbur being his son, but at the time that was the canon i went with and had to somehow push in). until a part of the story i wasn't planning to make the sbi family canon, so i had to think of something fast. so i considered how phil, for whatever reason, supported techno's reign during the antarctic empire days. why did he just outright follow him when his acts were universally regarded as evil? initial ideas were he, himself, was rather bloodthirsty, but this new issue came around and i used this blank in the story as a way to explain it - of COURSE phil would support techno unconditionally, he's his son, after all. later on, i managed to strike a balance in the story between phil supporting techno because of them being family, as well as him, himself, having his own agenda in the empire itself (bringing along the bloodthirsty nature of techno, which in turn i later explained with the voices, once those were canonized. that solution to a new canon was practically handed to me, with how i wrote the bloodlust as a voice beforehand. i just had to change it to “voices”).

for your example, i have one idea that could work! if velvet turns out long dead, i could quickly explain it in a simple way. ant WAS getting letters from velvet, but at one point they stopped and he received news velvet had died. ant has been lying about getting letters after some point because he didn't want other people who knew him to get hurt, and maybe he's even in a certain level of denial.

if velvet IS the egg, that could be more complicated, but still doable. tie it all into the source/nether lore, make him some sort of god or symbol of chaos, just play around with the rules of my own world until things fall into place. usually, somehow, i will find a way out just by stepping back and analysing what i already have prepared and thinking of how it can help me insert a new idea into the story without disturbing what's already there.

this is basically how wilbur being a source came into fruition! initial ideas were him and schlatt decided themselves to not enter the bunker and escape the flood on their own, but how would that make sense? oh yeah, what if one of them IS the flood? then i rewatch the video, and who other than wilbur is putting the commands in to make the water rise! it was too perfect not to somehow include it, yknow? and then boom, i have this cool lore about sources. why not use it? and yes, initially sources were JUST gonna be a passing mention in the captain’s journal. they weren’t ever planned to go this far. and before you know it we have wilbur, kristin, foolish, hannah...

so yeah. what i’m saying is. when in doubt, use nether lore. and that’s how i’ll go around whatever comes of the egg, in the end.

a lot of it also comes down to very careful storytelling and knowing what to change and what to leave alone. when the story started there was a set amount of people that i knew were involved in the roleplay and others i knew would NEVER get involved (keep in mind the story started being written before even the festival happened live, HELL, even villbur wasn't a thing back then), and separated them into small groups based on what i could and what i couldn't play around with. for example;

i could easily change callahan, alyssa, etc around... they're people who barely appear who aren't involved in the storyline. i gave them small appearances to show they're there and mostly kept them to the back.

people who i KNOW will never join the smp can be mentioned, referenced or even included! minx is probably the prime example of this. and if she ever DOES join the smp, by some magical chance? there can always be some magical book in the library that can reverse her from a dreamon to a human. so nothing to worry about there.

future major characters like dream, quackity, niki, etc didn't have much at the start but needed something to push them into their future arcs. in these characters i changed their start but made sure it left space to be moulded into anything they become later - i made niki kind but i also showed her early critisism of wilbur, already sensing she may have a villian arc coming in the future. when season 2 came around, i was proved right so i went in on those small hints more and more.

for characters who have an established arc, start to finish, who it's hard to change in any way, i change nothing - but i look at their past. the obvious people for this are schlatt and wilbur. on the smp they were characters start to finish, their arcs started and ended in the story and had nothing else. so i focused on the past, instead. and boom, suddenly we have 35 smplive chapters of completely original content.

with every character i live small hints of SOMETHING coming in the future. i leave small holes to be eventually filled by canon, and if canon gives me nothing, i fill them myself with something minor. another good thing is to trust fanon - with a fandom like this, where the creators listen to their fans and canonize a lot of popular fanon, it's good to go in on small fanon knowing it will eventually be canon, or even knowing it will make readers happy and will never impact the story, no matter how much it changes (think tubbo having horns, puffy being a pirate/sea captain of some sort, stuff like that)

there are, of course, times when i can’t avoid changing things from canon. phil not knowing who schlatt is, wilbur not knowing schlatt, etc... but i think in those places, those changes serve to improve the story in some way, and i think it’s a welcome change in the end. this story is definitely leaning more into AU than RETELLING, but i don’t think it’s such a bad thing. while faithfully retelling every major plot point, it adds its own elements and creates a somewhat new and exciting story people can enjoy anew. i think that’s what i strive to do the most in this fic - not retell the story word for word. you’ve already seen the videos. you don’t need that. what i DO want to do is create an engaging read for both avid fans who have seen every stream and casual fans who want the lore to make a little bit more sense to them. and that’s that.

god that went on a while didn’t it haha...

okay so to summarise - whenever something major changes in the canon lore, i have various ways of going about it. usually for some characters i would have left behind hints of SOMETHING and will just try to fit them into whatever change has showed up, or try to at the very least explain them with the new development so it doesn’t seem out of nowhere.

if that is not possible, i look back on all i established and think how i can use it to my advantage. could someone have been forgotten in an old world? is there some sort of nether anomaly that could have caused this? is this character a reliable narrator and have we gotten the full truth? there are a lot of ways to change things around with it being completely out of the blue but seeming fitting for the audience - you just have to really think it through, plan it, and make sure you know exactly what you want to do before going into it.

and finally, if there truly is no way to change a thing, shift canon completely and make sure it doesn’t change the base story. allow me to use the sbi as an example again, since i think they’re a good tool for this;

techno will take tommy in and help him recover from exile, same as canon, because he is his brother, as bdam canon states. at first he’ll just do it because phil wanted him to, but soon it will become a matter of family. when tommy betrays techno, it will hurt him more deeply BECAUSE they’re brothers. when he comes back to phil and tells him what happened, even phil himself will become enraged. the two themselves have been shown to have a history of resorting to violence and aggression in the story (look back at the antarctic empire), so doomsday wouldn’t seem out of character, or, at the very least, out of the question, when two men like them are pushed to their very limits by a betrayal like this. still, it would be unfair on tommy, but on both sides there would be something justified and something they did wrong - and that’s how you balance a good conflict in any story.

so yeah. i hope this long ass essay made sense. a lot of work goes into making sure this story flows naturally, so i’m glad someone finally asked something like this where i could reveal just how much work goes into it!!!

#sam speaks #ask #whoo boy a long one

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kaizokuou-ni-naru · 5 years ago

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Don't feel like you have to make a list or anything but do you have any specific fic recs? I just really enjoyed that one you mentioned!

OH BOY DO I

Jonny Recommends a Bunch of OP Fics

(i know you said no need to make a list but i’m gonna anyways, here’s a bunch of junk grabbed from the mess that are my bookmarks. most of these will be gen and G/T rated unless indicated otherwise cause that’s how i roll. i feel like i’m not very good at describing things to make them sound appealing but i will try! if nothing else, know i’ve read everything on this list at least two or three times.)

Oneshots, AKA Most of What I Read

Ring Around by Maldoror_Chant - ~600 words - Platonic kisses!! It’s just so goddamn cute please read it.

Underwater by ThisCat - ~1000 words - In which Luffy almost drowns, and thinks about some stuff, and the author has one of the best grasps on his personality and attitude towards death I’ve ever seen. Also every time I reread this I find myself holding my breath, which should tell you something.

✖ by Faktory - ~1000 words - Vivi gets a tattoo, for remembrance’s sake. We need more Vivi in fic just in general, and this one is just so warm and meditative and lovely.

reach up to me (if you even can) by guiltylights - ~1500 words - Look it’s just a fic about Ace getting to see tiny Luffy post Gear Third and laughing his ass off for a solid five minutes. Good shit. Brothers.

In Another Life by marimoes - ~1800 words - Hey I know you guys love Doflamingo and Rocinante do yourselves a favor and just read this one? It’s not happy but man it sure is something. Closure? I dunno but it’s good.

tomorrow never happens by midnightluck - ~2000 words - Pre-canon, Sabo runs into a Vice Admiral who seems to know him for some reason and everything works out pretty well.

Back So Soon by Moriohno - ~3000 words - Post-canon, Brook keeps his promise, just go read it right now it might make you cry but like for happy reasons.

A Way to Reach the Future by JadeFlicker - ~3000 words - The Strawhats accidentally land on the frozen wasteland that used to be Ohara. More hopeful than you’d think. Also one of the few fics I can’t read in public because I will cry.

Interlude for Eight Straw Hats and One Giraffe by Maldoror_Chant - ~4000 words - Kaku has a terrible horrible no good very bad day, and probably has to falsify a mission report. Honestly just hilarious from start to finish.

paint the flag and fly it high by Codedredalert - ~4000 words - Pre-canon fic about the baby Heart Pirates stealing a submarine, designing their Jolly Roger, and largely failing to paint said Jolly Roger on said submarine.

disaster in the making (we’re not sorry for it) by guiltylights - ~4000 words - The original fic I recced that prompted this ask, but I’m putting it here again now that I’m making a proper list cause it’s just excellent and needs more appreciation. Law crashes a Shichibukai meeting with a big sack of hearts and Hancock and Doflamingo get to bear witness.

Deliverance by Sarcasticles - ~7000 words - Listen, I know a lot of you who follow me love Sabo and Koala. Read this fic. Pre-canon, they have their first mission on their own, everything goes wrong, Sabo does some arson, it’s excellent.

Prospects by BrambleFuzz - ~9000 words - Katakuri joins the long list of people who did not get the heads up that friendship with Monkey D. Luffy isn’t optional once he’s made up his mind about it. Rip.

Birds of Alubarna by kurgaya - ~29000 words - The Strawhats go to a masquerade and that’s kind of all I can say about the plot on this one- and okay listen I know it’s long and also kind of baffling at first but YALL this author’s prose is so floaty and magical and it goes so well with the sort of unreal fantastical nature of events and it’s just good?? It’s just good. Also Vivi is in it and that’s always a bonus.

Chaptered Fics, AKA Half of These are Fix-It Fics and I’m Not Sorry

Lionheart by cyan96 - ~28000 words, Unfinished - tbh I nearly didn’t put this one on the list because I feel like most people who follow me have probably already read it, since I read my tags and I know how many of you love Law and Cora, but, on the off chance you haven’t, go read it rn. Go. Do it.

Sea of Monsters by WhirlyBird70 - ~32000 words, Unfinished but it’s more like a bunch of short stories anyways - Bunch of fucked up stuff in this one so mind the tags but like, it’s a The East Blue is Full of Demons AU and it’s good weird shit so if you’re into that go read it.

Small Changes by sweetscentences - ~37000 words, Finished - More Law and Cora. Honestly this one is just… so happy and domestic and good?? Also it’s got baby Heart Pirates, and they’re fucking adorable. (Also the author says they’re working on a sequel, so go support that!)

our shores of starlight (come sailing in) by kurgaya - ~46000 words, Finished - First thing on this list to not actually be gen- it’s Zolu, kinda, but not really focused on that? Mostly it’s just about Zoro. He’s a ghost in a sword, which is absolutely not gonna stop Luffy from recruiting him. I already talked about how great kurgaya’s prose is somewhere above this and that applies here too, it’s just gorgeously written.

Scylla by missmungoe - ~50000 words, Finished - Technically this one’s not gen either, it’s Makino/Shanks. Makino marries a pirate, becomes a pirate, gets a sword, nearly gives Garp an aneurysm. Please read it.

Overcoming an Era by Beyond_Kailani - ~60000 words, Unfinished - Ace bumps into a very familiar blonde in a top hat while searching for Blackbeard and ends up dragging him along. Maybe my favorite ongoing fic? I’m a huge sucker for canon divergence with regards to the ASL brothers and this is just, that, and it’s wonderful.

Within Risk of Reason by Depths - ~60000 words, Unfinished - Another Sabo-centric ASL fix it, I’m a simple woman with simple tastes- but really. It’s got time travel, and crimes, and vaguely dubious adoption. What more do you need? It’s so so good.

Obligatory Shitty Self-Promotional Note

I’m not narcissistic enough to make a whole nother list here, but I also write OP fic and my ao3 is Origamidragons if you want to check that out!

#some of these authors are my friends #n some of them i dont talk to but i know follow this blog #so if your writing is on here: youre so cool and i love you so much #most of them also have more fics i love but this got long #so if you see something u like here #check out their other work as well #faq #i didnt put many overtly shippy ones on here #since ik theres a lot of people following me who have diff tastes #although if yall want that list too just ask #fic recs #not japanese #jonny answers #one piece

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veliseraptor · 4 years ago

Text

2020 Fanfiction Round-Up

I do one of these every year! And have since I think 2016. Can’t break a tradition even if it’s been a clusterfuck of a time and filling this out was in some ways an exercise in remembering the ways I have failed myself as a writer this year.

But oh well!

Total Year-Long Wordcount: I’ll post the final final number tonight after I finish the writing I want to do this afternoon (and plan to do this afternoon), but it’s currently 451,803 words written this year. Guessing I’m going to land somewhere around 453,000ish. (AO3 claims a higher number than that but that’s because it is counting the entirety of fics where I posted chapters this year.

This year I wrote and posted: I wrote a fair number more than I posted (there are five fics finished but for various reasons unposted on my hard drive) but based on Tumblr I posted 78 posts in my fic tag, which, not including chapter specific updates and three sentence meme answers (but including at least two Tumblr-only longer fics), probably comes out to about 60 or so “full length” fics that saw the light of day in 2020.

Overall Thoughts

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

Well, I wrote more than I did last year, which is sort of a surprise to me (all things considered) but also maybe not, because I was doing a lot less of most other things that could’ve been occupying my time, including two hours daily of commuting.

But still less than I did in 2018. Which is fine.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Lord, I don’t know. It depends on when you ask me. Lately I’ve been in a bit of a “I hate everything I’ve written ever” state of mind, so that makes it sort of hard to do any kind of...reasonable assessment.

I know I’m proud of With Absolute Splendor but I have all these reservations about it and I can’t reread it for the most part because I always notice new things I wish I’d done differently. I feel pretty good about efforts in a common cause but something about it still makes me cringe, which I suspect has to do with my general self-consciousness. I have a hard time feeling unreservedly proud about...anything I wrote this year, really.

I feel like the closest I get is maybe nor autumn falter which I am pretty pleased with and also which does hurt me a lot personally. Or I did end up overall pretty pleased with what came out of By Proxy.

But also the more I look at this question the more I start hating all my own work, so...guess this is kind of coming at a bad time.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I mean, I started writing in my first non-English fandom in many years, and specifically one where I was trying to engage more with the cultural background of the setting (in a way I wasn’t with, say, Death Note, when I was writing Death Note fic). So that was a risk. And I learned that it’s very stressful and there’s so many ways to make mistakes and I am, in many ways, a coward. But also I think I’ve learned a fair amount thanks to a lot of very patient people on the internet, so...there’s that.

Otherwise...I mean, I got ambitious with a few projects this year (the Big Bang fic and With Absolute Splendor stand out), but I’m not sure how much I really tried new things.

I feel like I had to fight myself a little on writing straight up bad sex for By Proxy - I planned on it being hot, and it really wasn’t. It was mostly just miserable. Which made for a better fic, but was a new experience for me as far as ‘I thought I was going to write porn and that isn’t what I wrote.’

From my past year of writing, what was….

My most popular story of this year:

By far, With Absolute Splendor. In fact, it has now become my second most kudosed fic of all time, behind only fuckin Life in Reverse. So like. That’s a thing.

(It is still less than half as many as Life in Reverse, but for context Life in Reverse has been around for going on eight years.)

Most fun story to write:

Most fics where I feel like “I’m having so much fun writing this!” also go through a “oh god I hate this it’s terrible” phase which makes this sort of hard to assess. But I did have overall a lot of fun writing Mutual Friends despite all my frustration with the canon-wrangling I had to do to make it work in my head.

But also I feel like both Retributive Justice and Embedded were in different ways deeply iddy fics that were just fun to write. That actually goes for a lot of the Whumptober fics. That was a very self-indulgent month. Excited to do it again in February (hopefully, if I can write things in a timely manner at all).

Story with the single sexiest moment:

I feel like the beauty of your repair might be my personal favorite smut I posted this year, but I think my personal favorite that I wrote is in the big bang fic nobody will see until January.

I feel like most of the sexiest moments I’ve written this year are in the porn fics I’m going to start posting in January also. But just generally I feel like the beauty of your repair is the sexiest thing I wrote and posted.

Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

I mean, I Come With Knives is definitely up there. It’s not that wrong or anything, but it got pretty intense in some ways I wasn’t expecting. Mostly in how much blood got involved, which was actually more than I’d had it involved in a sex thing before! Kind of surprises me that I haven’t previously done more with bloodplay stuff but. Well. First time for everything!

I don’t think this was a year that really had any “wow, what the fuck, Lise” things in it. Nothing on the level of last year’s winner. I’m almost disappointed in myself.

Abattoir was definitely the story that generated the weirdest conversation and creepiest search questions, though, so it does get points for that.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

I feel like the writing of everyone else is spring bound was a lot of...me thinking through my Jiang Cheng feelings and specifically my Jiang Cheng post-canon feelings.

the martyr, the victim was pretty formative in shaping how I think about both Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and their relationship with each other. It was the first fic I wrote that really dug into them in any way, I think, and definitely one that informed how I thought about writing Lan Xichen later.

Hardest story to write:

I was thinking it was the one that I haven’t posted yet but I did technically finish, aka my Big Bang fic, the terrible threesome fic, the massive “I’m gonna keep everyone in the Yi City arc alive” AU that I started shortly after finishing The Untamed and finished in December. So I spent most of the year writing it.

But then I was like - no, I’m going to have to go with we live until we die even though it’s technically been ‘in progress’ for five years and really kicked into gear in 2019 and I just finished it and posted it this year, because that fic was like. The culmination of a big arc in an enormous verse dealing with a whole lot of balls in the air and trying to tie up a whole lot of threads. It was ambitious and the stakes were high and it was full of plot and action which are not two of my strengths...frankly I’m still amazed I pulled the damn thing off.

Biggest Disappointment:

I think it is better if I refrain from going too in depth on this because it would just end up as me listing a bunch of my perceived failings. But I think off the top of my head I’m frustrated by the fact that I still haven’t really managed to write a XueXiao smut fic that quite hits the spot for me, myself. I’ve written two and for various reasons I don’t really like either of them.

Biggest Surprise:

The fact that my Jiang Cheng fic took off the way it did. Legitimately did not see that coming! At all! I mean, I’m delighted by it but it wasn’t what I saw happening as far as “niche I’d find in this fandom” or “thing I’d write that people would really enjoy reading.”

Particularly with By Proxy. That fic got a lot more attention than I would’ve expected.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story:

I feel like every fic I write with Xue Yang in it tells you something about me and most of those things are things that make me, on some level, deeply self-conscious, but I try not to think about that too much.

I feel like the most telling story is maybe we all drift sometimes because I literally wrote it out of a depressive episode about a bad brain day but that wasn’t unintentional.

Favorite Opening Line(s):

1. So it turned out that if you touched the tendons of a dead person’s wrist and channeled a little bit of spiritual energy just right, it made the fingers twitch and curl like they were still alive. (Abattoir)

2. Here’s the thing: your Daozhang is glorious when he kills. (tear out all your tenderness)

3. Turned out that a sect leader’s head came off like anyone else’s. (Unnatural Selection)

4. The first hint that anything had gone awry was the letter from Lan Wangji (His Excellency Hanguang-jun, pardon me) that simply said have you heard from Wei Ying? (some good mistakes)

5. What Jiang Cheng wanted to do, more than anything, was to go home and take a nap. (everyone else is spring bound)

Favorite Line(s) from Anywhere:

I usually keep this to 10 but because I’ve been in such a :| place about my own writing I indulged myself this once.

1. Sometimes it felt like all he had done since descending the mountain was shatter his own dreams and accumulate regrets. (nor autumn falter)

2. It felt like she was holding all the components of a bomb in her hands, half assembled. If she moved the right way they would stay just that: components. But if she moved the wrong way… (til my judgment day)

3. He should have killed him. Should have been the one to strike that blow, in revenge for Jin Zixuan and their sister and everyone else dead for Wei Wuxian’s pride. Maybe then there would not be this gnawing, aching thing embedded in his chest; this itching, unfinished feeling. Maybe then he would not feel torn in two, sometimes like he should have reached out with his other hand and sometimes like he should have struck truer and sometimes both, in the same moment. (Interstitial)

4. He owed Wei Wuxian more than he could ever give back in this lifetime. Forgiving him felt like betraying his sister’s memory. Not forgiving him felt like trying to walk with a thorn in his foot. He was just - stuck, caught like a demon in a spiritual net.

Jiang Cheng thought of the way Wei Wuxian looked at Lan Wangji, with warmth and trust and love, and the aching, sick jealousy he had no right to feel returned. He felt a little like a child watching someone pick up a toy he’d abandoned and suddenly realizing that he wanted it back. (everyone else is spring bound)

5. You close your eyes and think about how he looked back in that town, Shuanghua slicing clean through a man’s neck, opening it to the spine, and think dizzily that he could open you like that and it’d be good, as long as it lasted. (tear out all your tenderness)

6. When Wangji loved, he loved with his whole being, without reserve. And now he had been placed between the rock of his convictions and the hard place of his devotion to Wei Wuxian. (the martyr, the victim)

7. He spent a week turning the idea over in his head. Studying it like a corpse he was going to dissect, poking at it, cutting it open and examining its insides. (dead reckoning)

8. When the world hurt you, that was the only thing to do, after all. Hurt it back, harder, worse. Spill rivers of blood for every drop it squeezed from you.

And when the end came, never go quietly. (the blood in your mouth)

9. I would stand with you through the end of the world, said Loki’s voice in his head, and Steve’s heart wasn’t in his chest anymore, was somewhere off on another planet where Loki was lying dead in a ruined city. (we live until we die)

10. Was it always going to be like this? Stumbling into traps, tripping over familiar skeletons, slicing himself open on the edges of old hurts. Was there really such a thing as leaving the past behind? He still felt stuck in it, unable to move, and every time he thought he might be finally dragging himself free something pulled him back. (With Absolute Splendor)

11. His chest was full of poison. His throat was full of grief. And he was still a little drunk.

Jiang Cheng went to his room, sat down on his bed, put his face in his hands, and cried until he couldn’t breathe. (By Proxy)

Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:

I think the scene from nor autumn falter of Xiao Xingchen just crying his heart out over Xue Yang’s dead body would be up there.

The Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian hug from the end of With Absolute Splendor.

Okay, just gonna say it: Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao having sex by the table with Nie Mingjue’s headless corpse on it. So sue me.

The scene in the blood in your mouth where Song Lan has stabbed Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen is following the line of Fuxue to the latter. I have a very clear visual of it in my head and if I could art I’d art it.

Xue Yang with the hallucinatory Xiao Xingchen from liberate spirits, liberate souls.

Fic-writing goals for 2021:

Finish Walking Far From Home.

Maybe I’ll finish some of these MCU WIPs? I’d kind of like to, on an abstract level if nothing else.

Become a more well-adjusted human being about the relationship between my productivity and my self-worth.

#fanfiction round up #confessions of a frustrated writer #you'll get my fun statistical analysis nonsense later

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years ago

Note

Can you do a frat Tom story, where he’s a cocky player and y/n hates him? One day, they get stuck at the campus laundromat together, so they start talking and Tom is actually funny and nice. Y/N lets her guard down and they start kissing. And then Tom takes advantage of the moment and his cocky side turns back on and he starts dominating. He takes her to the back and makes her get on her knees to blow him and he makes her gag for him and he's boasting and dirty talking.

Rinse and Spin

OOF This suggestion is HOT. Thank you!!! Honestly this had me sweating. I tried my best! Requests/suggestions are always open!

Summary: basically above, you and tom get stuck in the laundry room together and some smutty fun ensues. College!AU, Frat!Tom, Lowkey enemies to lovers

Warnings: Smut, mentions of alcohol, mostly smut, it’s all smut.

College was an exciting new chapter for you. Last year when you started school you were bright eyed and bushy tailed for all the new possibilities and independence that college brings. Living on your own, studying at your own pace, meeting new people, it all excited you.

However after a few semesters had gone by the excitement slowly wore off and you fell into a regular routine. You didn’t dislike school by any stretch, but you have always been keen on seeing things as they truly are.

One of the aspects of college that had really excited you was the idea that everyone would shed their immaturity from high school and grow up quickly. You hoped to meet people who took school seriously and didn’t have that unattractive immaturity that so many high school boys had.

This was all a fantasy in your head of course. There were still many people who disrespected professors, slept through all their classes, and acted like sixteen year olds who had been finally let loose from their parents. You assumed the freedom and expectations of college would cause everyone to grow up, but a girl can only dream.

The worst was Tom Holland. You had been partnered with him last semester for a group project and he lives up to all your expectations of a typical asshole frat boy.

He never bothered to learn your name, just calling you “babe” or “love” in that cocky way that probably worked on some girls, but not you. You ended up doing most of the project yourself because the idea of meeting up with him outside class seemed unbearable.

After that it was like you couldn’t stop running into him. At parties, in class, at the coffee shop, he was like an irritating bug that you couldn’t seem to squash.

He was the type of guy who loved being the center of attention. It came as no shock to you that he was the president of some stupid frat on campus, the one that threw the biggest parties. In your eyes frat boys had nothing filling their heads other than cheap beer and objectifying women. You tried your best to stay away from them, but did get dragged to the occasional party.

You had luckily found a group of friends that lived up to your expectations of mature college students, they were funny and smart and you were lucky to have them. The area you weren’t so lucky with was dating. You had a few hookups at parties but nothing worth writing home about, and most of the boys you met either bored you or fell into the asshole frat boy category.

You look around your small dorm room and decide to straighten some things up. You had finished all your assignments and your friends didn’t get out of class for a few hours, so this seemed like the perfect time to do some laundry.

You toss your dirty clothes into your hamper and head down to the communal laundry room in the basement. You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, some loose shorts and a t-shirt sans bra, you figured you’d be back in your room soon enough.

The door was open a crack, so you slip in and put down your heavy hamper next to an open washing machine. You notice someone sitting across the room out of the corner of your eye, it wasn’t unusual for students to wait for their laundry to finish.

However, the creeping feeling in your stomach, the way the hair on the back of your neck stood up on end gave away quickly who the figure was. Ugh, Tom. He had headphones on and seemed to be minding his business, so you hoped you could get your laundry in and leave before he noticed you and said some snarky remark.

That was the thing about Tom, you were one of the only girls who didn’t buy into his smooth accent and pretty face. You would call him out for his bullshit and tell him he’s a creep whenever he made a pass at you. You could tell he liked it though, the back and forth of you telling the other how much you despised them, he liked that you could dish it back.

You manage to get your clothes into the washer, but quickly realize that you left your laundry card upstairs. You dig around your wallet for some quarters, coming up with just the right amount. Jamming them into the busted machine you quickly lose hope of them working, realizing you’d have to go back up for your card.

“Need some help there sweetheart?” Tom asks from across the room.

Your hope of going unnoticed was shattered. Taking in a deep breath you roll your eyes and turn around to face him.

“No thanks sweetheart, machine won’t take my quarters,” you quickly turn back around, hoping that would be the end of the interaction.

You start to gather your things to head back upstairs when you notice that he’s left his spot and is walking up behind you.

“Here just use mine,” he holds his card out.

“No thanks Holland, not taking any favors from you.”

“Really, it’s no biggie,” he taps the card against the sensor in the machine and pays the $1.25 for your load, “it’s the least I can do after you got me that A on the bio project last semester.”

You were surprised that he even remembered that. You hold out your handful of quarters to pay him back.

“I don’t want your coins,” he chuckles.

“Well you certainly aren’t getting anything else from me,” you head towards the door, not knowing what to make of that interaction.

You needed the laundry card to swipe the door open, and it had been open a crack when you had come in.

“Hey,” you turn back around, “mind lending me that again so I can open the door?”

He runs up beside you and presses the card against the sensor, getting a little closer to you than you would have liked. The monitor turned red and starts blinking, indicating the card wasn’t working.

He tries again, “Strange, worked just a second ago.”

“Stop fucking with me Tom,” you grab the card from his hand, but it doesn’t work when you try either.

“Why do you always doubt me,” he takes the card back and examines it, “it’s not like I want to be stuck in here with you either.”

“Did you have the card near your phone?” you ask.

He realizes he had put the card back into the wrong pocket after paying for your laundry. The cheap cards are sensitive to technology and can get messed up if they get too close to a phone.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, “oh my god, of course you’re the type of person who doesn’t put a case on their phone,” you roll your eyes again at him.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to wait here with me until someone else can buzz us out.”

“Damn I better start screaming for help then.”

He lets out a chuckle and returns to his seat on top of one of the dryers. You might as well take a seat too, it may be awhile before someone comes to release you from this hell. You hop up onto one of the dryers across the room from him, desperately wishing you had your phone or anything to distract you.

“Cute shirt,” he comments.

“Shut up,” you realize he was probably commenting on how you weren’t wearing a bra.

“No, I mean it,” he sounded a little hurt, “that band is really cool.” Referencing the band logo on your tee.

You give him an inquisitive look, trying to read his motives.

“Last summer I worked security at a small concert venue downtown, got into a lot of cool shows for free.”

You would usually take this as him bragging, but he actually seemed interested in talking to you. He told you about some of the shows he worked at and you told him about the music festival you had gone to.

After talking like civilized humans for a while he decides to ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Hmm?” You look up from the hem of your shirt that you had been fiddling with.

“It just seems like you hate me and you don’t even know me.”

“I think I know you well enough to know that we don’t get along.”

“That’s not true at all, you don’t know the first thing about me!” He got up from his spot and moved closer to you.

“I guess I just don’t want to bother getting to know some egotistical frat boy who thinks every girl wants his dick, you’re just like the rest of them. Even worse, you’re their freaking leader! What do you want me to know about you huh? How much beer you can chug? How many girls you’ve fucked? I’m not interested.”

“Wow, harsh,” he was actually a little hurt by your comment, but kept the smug grin plastered on his face.

“See, you’re not even listening to me. You just smile and nod until a girl opens her legs for you, so move on cuz I’m not buying it.”

“Oh, you think you’re so high and mighty because you stay cooped up in your dorm room studying like the perfect fucking princess you are,” his tone was mocking, “some of us manage to have fun and get good grades, you’re not special, doll, you’re just a buzzkill. I bet you’ve never even been to one of our frat parties.”

“I’ve been to a few,” you mumble defensively.

“So what, maybe it’s all kegs and tits some of the time, but we also do a lot of really cool stuff too.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We do a lot of charity type shit around campus, hosting events and stuff.”

“Charity type shit,” you mocked him.

“Last semester we did this event where we set up these big tables and just handed out free dildos and condoms and lube,” he started explaining.

“Wow, so charitable, your frat gives out free sex toys to get girls attention, sorry I ever questioned you Mother Theresa.”

“Hey, let me finish,” he puts up his hands, “we were petitioning against campus gun laws. We were trying to make a statement about how some sex toys are against campus rules but there are no gun laws.”

“Oh,” you felt really stupid, “that actually is pretty cool.”

“See, you always are so judgy, if you just listened to me for three seconds then maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much. You just jump to conclusions about people before even talking to them.”

“I guess,” you turn to him, now sitting next to you on the dryer, “Sorry.”

“See, I like cool music and dildos too, we aren’t so different you and I,” you still wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

“You don’t know that about me,” you say flatly.

“Okay well I do know that you are into that one band,” he gestures to your t shirt, “and you are really good at bio… and you do your laundry at weird times of the day…”

You turn to him and lower your eyes, giving him an exasperated look.

“And I know that you like coconut milk in your coffee, and you always get those chocolate pastry things…”

Your eyes widen a little, realizing how closely he must have paid attention to you to pick up on those things. You let your guard down for a second, giving him the benefit of the doubt for once.

“And I know that you look really good in just your pajamas,” he nudges your side, “and I know that… you have really pretty eyes…”

His eyes meet yours, and you suddenly felt so vulnerable.

“Shut up,” you whisper.

“I’m just telling you things that I know to be facts,” he whispers too, his face was very close to yours, and strangely you didn’t mind.

Your mind went a little fuzzy as you stared into his coffee colored eyes, no longer trying to read him and just appreciating their color. A magnetic pull drew your face to his, almost like something you couldn’t have stopped even if you had wanted to. Before you could even realize it, your lips were firmly planted on his, hands frantically coming up to the sides of his face.

Tom would be completely lying if he said he knew this would happen. He hadn’t been trying to win you over, smooth talk you like he did to other girls. The two of you had just been having a normal conversation.

He was taken aback because rarely was he the one being kissed, usually he was the initiator. It only took seconds before he kissed you back, lips moving in synchronicity with yours. Your tongues connected harshly and angrily. He couldn’t tell if you liked him or still hated him, but by the way you felt in his mouth he didn’t care.

Your eyes flutter open, mind finally processing your actions. You harshly pull back, hands quickly moving away from his face and grabbing down onto the edge of the dryer. Your eyes grew wide and a look that could be mistaken for terror flashed across your face.

“Um- I…,” your tongue felt dry and heavy in your mouth, like you were suddenly having an allergic reaction to what you had just done.

You couldn’t come up with anything to say, and before you could his lips were on yours again. He pulled you in by the back of your neck, tongue moving over yours quickly resuming where you had left off.

Neither one of you could reason why this was happening, but it felt too right to care. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, ignoring how crazy and stupid and strange you felt. Suddenly you were leaning back, letting him pin you down against the cold metal beneath you. His hands gripped your sides with purpose and certainty, something you hadn’t ever felt from someone.

His teeth lightly graze your lower lip, pulling it slightly from your mouth. You let out an unexpected whimper, it was quiet and quick but you were sure he had heard. He did. It drove him fucking crazy.

He felt your body writhe underneath him, back arching slightly as his hands slid up your sides. Quickly realizing that the top of a washing machine was not the best place for this, he lifts you up, moving you so you were now straddling his lap.

A small gasp escaped you, surprised at how his strong arms swooped you up so easily. You let your whole body weight sink down onto his lap, pressing your chest tightly against his. Now it was his turn to let out a groan that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

He somehow slides off the machine and stands up, keeping you wrapped up against his torso. He moved with purpose across the small room, slipping into the small back room where no one could see you.

You were lost in the movement of the kiss when you feel your back firmly press against the wall, his body leaning into yours, the kiss getting hotter and wetter. You involuntarily roll your hips towards him, searching for some friction.

“Tell me you want me,” he groans into your mouth.

The way he looked at you like a hungry animal made your breath catch in your throat. His mouth moved to your neck and he buried his head there, kissing and sucking at your soft skin. The haze in your mind cleared for a second of clarity and you spoke with more conviction,

“I refuse to be one of your sexual conquests, Holland,” you continued to roll your hips against his, “You don’t get to tell everyone you fucked some nerdy girl in the laundromat.”

“Our secret,” he moves back to your lips, “but I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” your voice shrunk to a whisper.

One of his hands comes up to your chin, angling your head so he has full access to your neck. His tongue works against your pulse point as his hands come down to your things. Your shorts were a thin material, and he could easily feel you through them.

He squeezes your upper thighs, slowly moving up to your hips, pulling you into him.

“Tell me what you want,” your eyes roll back as his hands creep towards your dripping center, “tell me where to touch you.”

“Please,” you felt pathetic, but you press your hips further, trying to make contact with his hand, “I need you to touch me.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, moving up to your damp underwear.

“Is this all for me?” he says, almost mockingly, “I did this to you?”

You could only moan into his mouth as his fingers slipped into your underwear and moved against your wet folds. You tried to grind into his hand, but his grip on your hip kept you firmly planted against the wall.

“You act like you hate me, but you’ve been dripping for me this whole time haven’t you?”

He slipped a finger into you, curling it perfectly against your inner walls. He could feel you squeeze against him, your arousal starting to cover his whole hand. You couldn’t answer his question, rhetorical in nature, only gasp into his parted lips as he added a second finger.

He lowers his head to nip at your chest through your thin t-shirt, teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric. You manage to slip out of it, still pressed against the wall, legs shaky under you.

His mouth comes down to attack your chest with bites and hickeys as he continues pumping his two long fingers into you, thumb moving tight circles on your clit. You were slightly embarrassed at how quickly you felt your climax nearing. You had always thought of him as a cocky player, but at least this boy knew exactly what he was doing.

You moan out his name with a slew of profanities, eyes closing tightly. His lips move up to your ear, speaking directly to you as you start to shake under him,

“What is it?” his tone was arrogant and knowing.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come soon,” you squeak out.

“I’m going to make you come,” his hand suddenly moving faster and harder.

“Mmmhh, yes Tommy, you’re making me feel so fucking good.”

“I want you to come on my fingers, and then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock with those pretty lips of yours.”

Your moans were getting higher pitched, his words only intensifying how good he was making you feel.

“I bet you’d like that huh. You wanna feel my cock in your mouth?”

You bite your lip and nod, feeling yourself tip over the edge with a cry of his name. His thumb moved quickly against your clit, fingers plunging a little deeper as he felt you contract around him.

You collapse forward, grabbing onto his shoulder, biting down on his skin to silence your own screams. You catch a glance at his face, that stupid cocky smirk still plastered onto him. In this moment you couldn’t bother to care, you could only focus on staying standing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

When your eyes finally came back into focus, he was pulling his fingers from you and slipping them into his mouth. His thumb brushes across your jaw, migrating to press into your lower lip. You let your mouth slip down onto his digit, your tongue pressing against his thumb.

“Look at you,” he pulls his finger back, dragging your lower lip with it, “so fucking good for me.”

You give him a wide eyed look and start making work of his belt. His cock is hard and firmly pressed against the inside of his jeans. You palm him through the thick material for a second while dealing with the button and zipper.

You sink to your knees, fulfilling his request from earlier.

“Wait, here,” he grabs a towel off of a nearby machine and places it on the ground in front of him, “for your knees, the ground is really hard.”

It made you laugh how he had been so cocky one second and thoughtful the next.

“Thank you,” you say softly as you pump the shaft of his dick, looking up at him with big eyes while bringing your tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside.

His shirt was off now too and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his body was. You had always recognized that Tom was conventionally very attractive, but suddenly he was fucking hot to you.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and watch as his head tips back, causing him to let out a groan. You take his hand and move it to your hair, giving him permission to hold it.

He twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, brushing the stray pieces back from your face. He grips tightly, pulling a little. You give him a moan and a nod, letting him know it was okay to pull harder.

He moves your head back and forth to meet your movements, hips moving slightly in the process. You gag a little as he hits the back of your throat, but continue bobbing your head, letting him slide down your throat a little every so often.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me, gagging on my cock,” he tightens his grip on your hair, “taking me so well.”

The sight of you on your knees for him, lips wrapped perfectly around his shaft sent shivers down his spine. He watched attentively as his cock slid in and out of your mouth, your saliva leaving a wet trail around his length. What killed him was when you would look up at him through your eyelashes, big doe eyes begging him to fuck your face.

You dare to move south, taking one of his balls in your mouth as you continue jerking him off. You moan into him as he pulls your hair, vibrations adding to his pleasure.

“Fuck y/n, you’re fucking dirty aren’t you?” He was a little surprised at how aggressive you were taking him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

“I bet you’ve thought about this before, being a good girl on your knees for me, taking what I give you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you flatten your tongue against his shaft, letting his hips do the work. You surely had never thought about him in this way before, that he was wrong about, but you surely would be thinking about sucking his dick all the time from now on.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, swelling a little at the feeling of your tongue. You knew he was close by his grip on your hair and his hip movements. You take him deep down your throat, sucking and lapping up his shaft.

“I’m gonna come y/n,” he warns you, although you already knew.

You continue to suck vigorously, swallowing his come and continuing to suck on him until his legs are shaking a little under your grasp. He lets go of your hair, which messily falls down around you. You release his dick from your mouth with a pop, admiring your work as it was red and twitching.

Tom slumps down against the wall and sits on the floor, meeting you at eye level. You look at him for a second, unable to read his reaction. You knew he liked it by the noises he had been making, but he sat across from you running his hands through his hair.

“What the fuck was all that.”

“I don’t know! You tell me!” you say defensively, “You seemed to like it.”

“Well yeah, you seemed to like it too,” he retorts, “actually, you seem to like it much more than most girls like sucking cock in my experience.”

“What can I say, you have a pretty dick.”

“Only pretty cuz it fits in your mouth so well.”

What were you doing? Was this flirting? You stand up and shake yourself off, walking over to where your clothes had been discarded. You start to slip your underwear back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tom jokes, also getting up from the floor.

“Someone could walk in, plus I have to switch my laundry, gonna need your card again by the way.”

“This is some kind of fucked up trade off if you ask me,” he jokes.

“Still hate me?” He quips, always cocky.

“Jury’s still out,” you start to move your clothes into the dryer, “I’m gonna need to see more of what you have to offer before I decide.”

“Well, the dryer takes about an hour and I was hoping to make you come a few more times. Wanna see that pretty look on your face again.”

You sit up on top of the dryer and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

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