#my one fear is that I’ll be so annoying that my fic will finish and no one will care

[whoblewboobear]

It’s strange, I’m used to hyperfixating hard on things like HARD (beats my 2yr long beetlejuice musical obsession back with a stick) but Starbreaker- not even fantasy high itself took me over to the point of feeling like a teen about. Like I haven’t had this much fun in fandom in years. I haven’t like- interacted with people this much in fandom in years (which is still not enough but if I beat myself up about social interaction again I’ll jump off a cliff)

But there’s never been a concern of like “this obsession won’t fade for a while but it’ll lose popularity” and that’s fine and surprisingly it hasn’t. But it is different. It’s like adapting to it constantly as the thing itself changes even when there are aspects that you’d like to stay the same. Like that ‘I don’t go to this school of thought, but I’ll still take the class bc it’s interesting’ sorta thing.

And then there’s that feeling of WANTING to contribute but the thing has become such a beast that it’s like oooh I’m so out of my depths here.

Also like constantly having to look myself in the eye and be like ‘bitch you don’t have to talk or contribute to EVERYTHING’ and the sooner I accept that and accept that it is what it is, ill miss things, I won’t get enjoyment out of every aspect and every aspect isn’t for me and that that isn’t a bad thing, I’ll stop having moments of feeling weird and out of place. I have my lil corner and that’s okay

[pupyuj]

[cw: cnc (reader receiving ofc), g!p ive, somnophilia, exhibitionism, degradation, humiliation, spanking, slapping, etc. (there’s just… a lot going on)]

been having cnc thoughts with ive so this is what i came up with! i’ll try to get some asks done and ehehe i’ve been working on a new fic for a while but ofc i get the block sdkdhsj.. BUT i’ll get out of this little predicament and hopefully come back w more food for you guys 🥰 i hope this was okay! i’m still tryna get my groove back 🤕🙏

p.s. this is like, long asf for no reason so have fun guys! 😭😘

everybody knew (y/n) (l/n) as ive’s brightest little star that was pretty much perfect in all aspects ☺️ nobody adores you more than your members though! you’re their battery, their personal motivational speaker.. but sometimes there’s a better use for you than simple bear hugs and little kisses.. you were the elder members’ toy, and they all love to use you in different ways… 😵‍💫

yujin gets real busy so she doesn’t have a lot of time to relax and do whatever she wants 🙁 poor girl barely has enough time to just sit and watch her favorite show before she has to leave for another schedule! she’s exhausted, angry, and most importantly, so fucking needy 🤭 so one day, she'd come home all tired and grumpy as she usually was... walks lazily towards the bathroom to get changed and wash her face when she notices an underwear of yours haphazardly thrown on the floor, missing the laundry basket nearby... and ofc yujin gets hard! it was annoying, really! how easy she gets horny whenever she sees you or thinks of you—you were too pretty! soon enough, yujin would sneak inside your room all hot and bothered, more than grateful that you were wearing the shortest shorts and the thinnest tank top in your closet.. fuck, yujin could practically cum at the sight of you alone!! yujin never liked touching you without your permission, but she remembered how you never fail to tell any of the unnies about how they "can use you however and whenever they want" and how "you wouldn't have a problem with it".

you were in deep sleep, so you didn't do or say anything at all when yujin swiftly gets rid of your shorts and it turns out you weren't wearing panties at all! god, you were such a slut—you just figured one of the unnies would come into your room and fuck you silly while you're asleep 🤭🤭 best believe yujin would be fully erect with even just the thought of fucking you in your sleep, so taking off her pants was quite ‘liberating’ in sense! ugdhhfhcbsig baby whimpering as she slowly inserts her cock inside you, practically drooling at how tight your pussy was! 😵‍💫 she gets a little scared when you stirred slightly, but then starts thrusting into you in a steady pace once she realizes you weren’t going to wake up any time soon 🫣 omgomg her whining in your ear bcs it’s been so long since she’s been inside you 🥺 sure it might be more fun if you’re awake (yujin needs a good riding right now actually…) but yujin couldn’t wait for that!! and now because she was thrusting inside you so fast and deep, naturally you’re wake up 😰 but you couldn’t even do anything bcs yujin’s pushed your head down to your pillows, telling you to “not say a fucking word” and “take it” and ofc you do that bcs who were you if not yujin’s stupid little pet?? 😋

biting your lip while yujin’s grip on your hair tightens more and more the closer she gets to her climax, afraid of waking the other members up and disturbing their rest :(( yujin pulling your head up roughly just to get a mix of a moan and pained sound out of you.. oh she fucking loved it 😙 seeing you look at her with both fear and lust in your eyes was what made yujin cum! filling you up to the brim but the two of you were far from finished! you haven’t cum yet after all… so expect yujin to manhandle you for the rest of the night bcs one thing she wants more than fucking the lights out of her pretty doll? control.

now… gaeul doesn’t know why but you had a real knack for pissing her off 😒 she never had too much of a problem with it before bcs most of the time you were just doing it for the camera to establish a cute little dynamic between the two of you for the fans to see! it was all fun and games until one day you went too far and gaeul just snaps 😔 the two of you were fooling around in an empty waiting room—making out and being touchy and all that, then you made a stupid joke which gaeul laughed off at first… but then you started to outright insult her and it wasn’t until gaeul has slapped you to shut you up that she realized that oh!! that was what you wanted out of her!! well, that angry reaction anyway… the whole bending you over in front of a vanity mirror and forcing you to watch yourself get fucked from behind was a surprise, but a welcome one 😋😋 she’d ignore your whining about how your hair, makeup, and outfit’s gonna get ruined, only grinning in response when she sees your shaking your head at her desperately bcs it was all becoming too much :(( her cock and her grip on around the back of your neck.. her other hand holding your hip, keeping you steady while she slams into your walls… and now what gaeul couldn’t ignore were your tears, and the pitiful way you’ve started sobbing ☹️

gaeul would’ve stopped right there (she would never want to hurt you on purpose! well except when she slapped you earlier—)… if it wasn’t for the fact that you subtly started to push back into her when she slowed her thrusts bcs she had been worried 🫣🫣 gaeul looking at you all confused and a bit conflicted bcs you literally were sobbing but you looked back at her, urging her to keep going, to keep ruining you… and you didn’t have to tell gaeul twice for her to do just that! “look at how much of a slut you are for me.” her now gripping your hair and pulling you up so you’d look directly at her through the mirror… oh that condescending look in her eyes mixed w disgust and annoyance.. you could’ve cum right there, really! but you knew gaeul would be disappointed if you did so you just stayed there, bent over and spread open like the good pet that you were 🤭 with how loud the two of you were, you were surprised that nobody has come in and interrupted you.. or maybe the noises drove everyone away! 🤔

eughfhdhc the thought of people outside the room hearing all of this.. somehow the idea did nothing but turn you on even more!! now you were moaning gaeul’s name even louder, calling her all of the names she likes through your sobs and whimpers… eventually gaeul feels you claw at her wrist, and that was when she finally came and with you, too!! 😋 as mean as she was, gaeul will definitely kiss the cheek she slapped an infinite amount of times and apologize 🥺 even though she knows it wasn’t going to be the last time you were gonna pull that stunt on her…

rei loves taking care of you! out of all the members, she was the one you stuck to all the time! everyone knows rei and (y/n) are attached to the hip, the pretty best friends who have the best instagram feeds due to each other being their own personal photographer… basically, you and rei were inseparable! 🥰 she knows you like the back of her hand, inside (😉) and out—all that stuff! the two of you didn’t fuck much, mostly bcs all you wanted to do when you’re together was gossip, make jokes, go to pretty places to take pretty pictures of each other… sure you’ll make out every now and then but ultimately, rei doesn’t touch you unless the mood strikes her 😙 and apparently, you coming home drunk out of your mind after a fun night out with your other friends was a good time for ‘the mood’ to hit rei 😚 her swinging the door open and seeing your flushed face, lazy smile, and messy hair.. she didn’t like the smell of alcohol no matter how fancy it was but when it came from you, it smelled nice enough! and then partnered with the very outfit rei helped put together… well, who could blame her for getting so hard?! by the time she sat you down on the couch, her cock was practically begging to be freed but she ignored that feeling for a while! giving you a glass of water to drink, taking off your jacket for you, caressing your hair and pushing strands away from your face.. god, who allowed you to be this pretty??

as rei slowly left kisses from your collarbone up to your jawline, she wondered if it was okay to take advantage of your dazed state like this.. it had to be, right?? you were the one who said the unnies can do whatever they want to you whenever… and rei wasn’t stupid—she knew you just wanted to get fucked for no reason bcs you were a stupid slut. she knew you better than anyone! in fact, she gets a pass for all of this, she’s your best friend after all 😚 it didn’t take long until she had you laying on the couch, with your pants and underwear removed and legs wide open and ready just for her… rei licking her lips at the sight of your wet pussy clenching around nothing, oh how she couldn’t wait to make your scream her name tonight.. 😋 you were exhausted though, barely processing anything that was happening until you felt something stiff and hard entering your pussy.. panic rushes into you until your eyes met rei’s, and then it was just a wave of emotions flooding through your head… confusion, lust, thrill.. and then even more panic when rei pushes in further, moaning loudly at the feeling.. you don’t know why it pained you so, perhaps you weren’t used to feeling rei inside you or maybe it’s bcs you clearly weren’t in the right state of mind to be doing this but fuck, why did that fact turn you on??! but your mind goes blank when rei decided to just force her entire length inside you, her ears tingling at the sound of your choked moan, wanting to hear more until your voice was gone...

"s-so big..." aww you were so cute underneath rei as you whined and weakly tugged on her shirt 🥺 but ugh as much as this all ‘weirdly’ felt good, you just wanted to have a good shower and sleep till the next afternoon.. but rei was intent on keeping you where you were when she pinned both of your hands above your head, using her other hand to clamp your mouth shut when you started to whine in protest 😤 tells you to “be a good slut” and ofc you didn’t want to disappoint your best friend so laid there and let her use you to her heart’s content! rei needed it anyway, what with everything she’s had on her shoulders as of late.. and you would never pass up on the opportunity to be of use to your unnies! after rei’s breeded you for hours on end, expect to be coddled and babied for the next week 💕 perhaps even spoiled 👀 (maybe it’s time i write sugar mommy rei actually…)

now wony… wonyoung’s got a lot to express, okay?! between living up to her ‘perfect idol’ image, schedules, and practices, you can’t exactly blame her when she suddenly just decides she wants to pull you to a corner and fuck you like it’s her last! every time she fucks you there’s always a sense of urgency in her actions… as if the world will explode if fucks you a second longer than she planned 😗 sometimes you feel like just another ‘activity’ in wonyoung’s calendar, there would be a specific date, time, and location when she wants to play with you and truthfully, it makes you feel shitty! she makes you feel shitty! god, the things she does and says to you??? you’re so lucky you’re such a slut that’s super into being practically bullied and humiliated… otherwise you’d be crying while she fucked you (but she’d probably love that) 😙 that ‘urgency’ makes wonyoung do a little of risky things.. especially if she’s desperate and wants to get off to let her frustrations out! all of ive would be alone in a waiting room and she’d literally daydream about fucking you right where you sat and laughed with yujin and rei… then she’d send leeseo out on an adventure (the baby will NOT see this fucking shit AT ALL in her life, wonyoung will make sure of it) before asking you, from across the goddamn room, to suck her cock 😀😀 there would be a pause, then the change in the atmosphere would make you shiver as wonyoung held your confused stare with a confident glare of her own… her ego only getting bigger when yujin nudges you and tells you to obey wony with a knowing smirk… evil, evil girls 🫣

ofc you were scared so you’d be frozen in your seat, trying to figure out if they were all joking or not but nope, they were 100% serious!! frustrated, wony takes up the space in between you and rei, not even giving you a minute to form a thought before lifting her skirt up, pulling her dick out of her compression shorts, and grabbing you by the back of your head 😵‍💫 “you know i don’t like repeating myself, (y/n)-ah.. nor do i like being denied of my pleasure…” and then she was balls deep inside your throat 🤤🤤 she simply loved how your mouth fit around her cock like a glove, making sure to control your pace so that your lips drag on her entire length.. finding joy in the way you’d gag and choke whenever she hits the back of your throat… even your tight grip on her thigh added to the fun—your tears too, ofc!! she’s sick, smiling wickedly while she listens to your muffled moans and your attempts to breathe but failing.. wony would feel bad but you clearly liked this! you weren’t protesting, you weren’t tapping out, you weren’t looking around trying to ask the other unnies for help… in fact, gaeul had already pulled her phone out and started recording you but you didn’t seem to mind! 🫣🫣

“f-fuck, really..? in front of your u-unnies and in a p-place where—oh, shit..!—we could easily be caught?? you’re disgusting…” you can’t see wonyoung but you can just imagine a psychotic expression on her pretty face while she said those words.. nothing makes her more happy than knowing that she can do literally anything and everything to you whenever and wherever… “where next, hm..? o-on stage? in front of dives? y-you wanna show them.. ahh… who you really are?” wonyoung, as well as the rest of the unnies, would burn the entire world if anybody else saw you like they do but it was a nice tease… pulling you up briefly so you could answer.. you frantically shaking your head no bcs the thought genuinely mortified you, then wony laughing at how panicked you looked bcs you knew that if she was pissed enough she would terrorize you during a fansign or something… after a while, she’d be done playing games—moving your head up and down so fast that you can barely keep up ☹️ she’s so desperate to cum it’s not even funny!! and when she did, she came a lot 😋 yujinnie making sure that every single drop is not wasted so she keeps your head down since wony had gone limp, they’re all cruel really 😣😣 but wonyoung, being a gentlewoman, is the one who cleans you up and returns you to your presentable state! becomes super soft bcs she knows she goes overboard sometimes 💔

jiwon is one strange case! she’s lowkey a perv and touches you inappropriately all the time but when it comes to actually fucking… well, suddenly she’s stupid 😭😭 either way, when you told the unnies they can use you… jiwon got more than a few ideas as to how exactly she’ll use you, but never had the courage to do it all! ☹️ but then you’ll find yourself in a situation that completely mirrors that one drunken experience with rei… this time around, jiwon came home completely wasted! she and yujin apparently had too much fun and now you were left to take care of the blondie 😙 she’s slurring, she’s stumbling, falling all over… can’t even take a step without needing to lean towards the wall to support herself 😭 she was GONE gone 💔 and when you hurried over to her side to help her, jiwon catches a whiff of your perfume and her entire demeanor completely changes!! 🫣 “w-what is that perfume you’re wearing..? smells nice… can i…” then she’s hugging you?? face down on your chest, sniffing your shirt, while her hands groped your ass?? “unnie.. come on don’t do this here… we need to get you to your room so you can rest up..” but nope jiwon refuses to listen! your scent alone was enough for her cock to stiffen right up…

first things first though—she has to feel how tight you are with her fingers 😵‍💫😵‍💫 subtly unzipping your jean shorts and slipping her hand inside your panties… literally moaning at how soaked you were, trailing her fingers along your folds as she leaves sloppy wet kisses on your neck.. god it was as if jiwon was completely hypnotized by your scent, going as far as to inhaling your hair and getting her boxers all wet bcs of all the precum that was leaking out of her… being so weak that you don’t do much when she presses your back against the wall 🫣 now rubbing your clit gently.. who knows how many marks she has left on your neck and chest at this point?? she doesn’t care! and jiwon barely bats an eyelash when she hears a pained squeak from you as she suddenly inserts two long fingers inside in your cunt 😵‍💫 she could practically cum at how your tightness just sucks her fingers in.. you’re squirming but you were clenching all around her! and she doesn’t miss the way you’re slightly grinding on her hand.. so she continues her work, fingering you in the best way she knows how… her free hand roaming anywhere she could touch until she grabs a fistful of your hair so you could look at her before she crashes her lips into yours 😋 jiwonie kissing you feverishly and getting so lost in your taste that she doesn’t notice you tightly gripping her wrist bcs she was going too fast… not that she’d care if she noticed anyway 🤭

“mmhn.. need to feel you on me…” jiwon moans in between kisses.. her being so knuckle-deep inside you that it hurts a little but jiwon showed absolutely no signs of stopping! she needs to hear you scream her name, needs to see you cream all over her hand… you looked so pretty with your neck all marked up and a bit of your lower lil bleeding bcs jiwon bit you while kissing you… nobody can blame her for pushing you over the edge to the extreme and making you cry as you came!! 🫣 jiwonie shushing you bcs you ended up being so loud, giggling a little seeing your tears and your swollen lips 🤭 definitely makes you clean up the mess you made on her hand, barely giving you time to react before she’s dragging you to her bedroom by your shirt, more than ready to ruin you until sunrise 🤤

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

#!! - 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑴𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ; ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ

CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖈𝖜: RAPE/NON-CON.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊:

Finally finished the fic after months of procrastinating.

This fic is not proofread or beta read.

Don’t try this at home, kids!

….And some rape down there. I don’t condone any of this irl (no shit). It is to note that it is part of the story’s progression and I only intend to explore such dark elements like the series always intended to do so in canon.

The “don’t like, don’t read” rule applies here. Kindly heed the tags one more time before proceeding.

“Griffith…I…” you paused as you caught your breath. You were failing to fake self-confidence at this point in time, your legs shaking as you could only watch yourself give into the fear that made its way through your head and heart.

“I…wasn’t expecting your presence here…I….”

Griffith’s eyes narrowed in response, letting out a low hum. He was getting closer this time, giving you less time to react and run for your life.

You took a step backward, pressing your hands against the dresser for some support. You knew you’d hit a dead end the way you clumsily hit the wall, groaning softly in response. You waited and waited for a sign to attempt running past Griffith and escape the palace with all your will’s might. You still had your bathrobe on, which made you partially vulnerable to him, but you didn’t care. You just had to run away from the man who has been invading your personal space.

“Worry not, princess. I came not to disturb your slumber. What I ask for is one simple thing that I believe you and I could share. If I’ll allow you to do so, that is.” Griffith said.

“Who are you to tell me what to do with my Kingdom? This is my lair, as bestowed by my father before me. The fact that you’re trespassing does not make you worthy of seeing me at my-“

Your words were cut off by Griffith, his cunning tone making itself clear in the dead silence. “And who told you that this kingdom was entirely yours? Remember, your induction to queenhood was only taken into consideration because of your father’s sudden death. Besides, it’s not as if you have any experience in leadership whatsoever.”

“Are you underestimating me?” you asked, slightly annoyed with his attitude.

“Why, of course not.” Griffith said as he took brisk steps forward, making it almost impossible for you to escape. “Want to know a secret?”

You nodded in response.

“I killed your father.” Griffith said, shamelessly. He walked three steps forward, caging the both of you within a small distance.

“You son of a bitch! Why….why would you do such a thing?! My father has been-“ you were interrupted once again.

“I had to do it. There could only be one way to test as to whether Midland is fit to be led by a Queen all on her own…..and turns out, the ‘Queen’ in question has no experience.” Griffith said.

“How dare you insult me in my own palace!” you exclaimed. “I’m leaving!”

“Not when you’re barely dressed like that.” Griffith smiled deviously. “Now…..come here….”

“What….what are you implying?” you asked, attempting to charge your way to the exit of your bedroom. “N-never mind….I’m fucking leaving.” As you charged your way to the exit, you felt two hands wrap around your waist from behind. No, it was too late. Griffith caught you. Pulling you backward, he lifted you to your own bed and started stripping down until he wore nothing but his Behelit.

You attempted to escape once more, only for Griffith to pin you down to the bed and press his lips into yours. You fought against the sheets and turned your head to break the kiss, but your attempts were rendered futile as it only prompted Griffith to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Griffith kissed you harshly, and it frankly felt like kissing an untamed beast cornering its prey. You never knew Griffith was ...quite an expert at this, his mouth slightly nibbling at your lower lip everytime he retreated.

After finally pulling away from you, Griffith latched his face onto your neck, positioning himself next to your right ear. “Give yourself to me, Princess. After all, your Kingdom….will soon be mine.”

“No…NO!!!!” you exclaimed.

“A little stubborn, are we?” Griffith asked, tilting his head. “Well, it’s not like you’ve stood a chance. We’re taking off this one, okay?”

You kept tugging at your bathrobe’s ‘belt’ to keep it away from the filthy man on top of you. “Griffith, I don’t want this, please…..”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Too stubborn.” Griffith said, his touch growing angrier as he grabbed your bathrobe by the waist, curling his hand to a fist. Using his other hand, he slid a sleeve of the wardrobe off your shoulder, revealing your bare shoulder and right breast. Griffith dug right in, his lips kissing your hardened nipple as he engulfed his mouth to suckle it whole. While doing the do, he used his right hand to slide off the other sleeve of your bathrobe, exposing your other breast and stripping you down to your naked form. Griffith pulled away from your nipple, impressed with how he rendered the Queen of Midland helpless under his touch.

“Mmmm……what a pretty little thing you make, just for my kingdom.” Griffith let out a satisfactory hum. “This will be a rather fun time showing them who’s deserving of the throne.” Next thing you knew, Griffith was about to go down on you, positioning himself around the area of your waist.

“Don’t resist, Princess. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs wide open.” You hesitantly obeyed, up until Griffith grabbed you by your inner thighs, spreading them wider and raising them. Finally, he slipped your legs up his shoulders. It felt dirty having someone’s face right up your pussy, especially since this was your first time. Your mind wandered as you closed your eyes, hoping everything you just witnessed was just a dream. But no, it wasn’t. You fought against Griffith’s clutches, tugging at his hair and pushing him away.

But this just prompted him to dig right in, lapping at your fluids as he used his hands to part your lips for better tasting. You muffled a moan from the pleasurable feeling, covering your mouth with one hand. Griffith’s tongue worked you in fast, yet practiced motions—the tongue moved swiftly and curled just the right amount to send you shivers down your spine, earning muffled whimpers from you.

Granted, vibrators didn’t exist in the Medieval Era of Midland, so you might as well indulge in that feeling of someone’s tongue right up your pussy.

Griffith withdrew from eating you out for a while, his breathing and humming loud enough to send you goosebumps. “Mmmm…. You’re already this wet from a little kissing and heavy sucking. I wonder how it would be like to have you sing while having myself fully inside you, to have you clench around me while I slowly take what’s rightfully mine.”

“L-let go!!!!” you screamed. “I don’t want this!!!”

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, Princess. After all, you’re something…..” Griffith said, strict and unwavering. “Magnetic.”

Griffith moaned as he dug right back in, his tongue hovered over your clit. He started tracing small circles in a slow pacing, which left you impatient and begging for more. You tugged into his hair trying to fight him off, but as previously stated, you were left with no defenses against his strong grip.

“Griffith!!! Oh God…..!!!! I’m gonna…..!!!”

The feeling gave you that guilt, guilt for enjoying this man’s advances on you, and guilt because you just couldn’t believe your sense of authority was being challenged by a man of common birth.

But Griffith refused to stop. No, he didn’t stop suckling at your clit gently to give you a break. Griffith was merciless in the bedroom, leaving you with no choice but to accept the fate you’ve been accustomed to.

“Agh! Griffith!!! Stop….!!!!” you moaned out loud.

Griffith’s tongue kept going, and it wasn’t long before he inserted two digits inside your entrance without warning. He just didn’t care. His tongue slowly picked up the pace, speeding up and finally making you reach that sweet, sweet climax you’ve been waiting for. You fucked back subconsciously against his tongue, riding out your orgasm until it was ready to subside. After coming down from your high, you suddenly realized Griffith was looking down at you icily with his bright blue eyes, his body towering over yours despite lying down in bed.

You were screwed. What was about to happen next?

“Hmmm…..perhaps you are ready to take all of me. I’m going to fuck you so good you’d actually forget being the Queen of Midland.”

“No…..NO!!!!” you exclaimed, attempting to get up and reach for the door. You were stopped dead by Griffith once again, leading him to push you back to the mattress and grabbing you by the legs. Spreading them wider, Griffith let go of your legs, only to stroke his length before initially inserting it in your entrance. Slight precum formed through a pearl-like shape at the slit of his cock, adding lubrication to the process of entering you. Before you knew it, Griffith made efforts to adjust and bury his length within your vagina, though you ached in retaliation.

“Aghhh!!! It hurts! It burns! Let go!”

“Hush, princess. I know what I’m doing.” Griffith said as he spread your legs open for a better view. He adjusted himself by taking slow yet sure steps in burying his length into you, filling you to the brim. You were at this point begging to be freed from his grasp, though your fainting strength was no match for him.

Placing his hands on your wrists, Griffith pinned you down and started thrusting his hips in a slow, yet ambitious pace. You bit your lip to hold back your moans, but it was all for naught. You let out a small “uh” while he rocked in and out, sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air as he leaned closer to your ear to speak.

“You don’t stand a chance against ruling Midland.” Griffith muttered at an intimate distance from you.

“What…..Huh…..?” you whimpered, your breasts being grabbed as it bounced from Griffith’s thrusts. “What….do you me-ngggh!” you grunted, trying to resist him by trying to get up. “I owe you nothing! Just please, let me rule my Kingdom in peace! I’ll do anything…..anything….but this…..!!!”

“Surrender your pride, little one.” Griffith said as he caught his breath. “I want you to dream of this.”

As a means of defending yourself, you attempted to grab Griffith by the hair to pull and tug on it roughly. However, your efforts to distract Griffith failed. You had to take responsibility for what had to happen next, and it was all because Griffith wanted a taste of your kingdom.

“I have every right to follow my dream, princess. And I want you and your kingdom surrendered to me. That is the pinnacle of achieving my dream.”

“You’ll…..you’ll never…..have my kingdom…..” you fought your way to speak in the midst of denying the pleasure Griffith gave you.

“You’ll take whatever I deem right to give you, princess. After all, your kingdom and this body will be mine.” Griffith said.

You screamed as loud as you could that the servants and every guest would hear you. The walls were soundproof, but you didn’t have a choice.

“Please!!!! I don’t want this! Please get off!!!”

“You do know screaming out for servants to assist you won’t do your kingdom justice, right? Mmmmm…..”

Right on the dot, Griffith stopped thrusting, pulled out, and aggressively flipped your body over that you were facing the bed. With one fell swoop, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pinned your head to the pillow to muffle every moan and protest you had up your sleeve. Without warning, he repositioned himself right up your entrance, taking you from behind.

“This is a far better idea to keep your mouth shut and do as I say.” Griffith commanded.

“Mmmmmhhhh…….mmmmhhhhh!!!!”

The sounds of lewd clapping resumed, Griffith’s cock milking every last bit of your pussy’s juices with fervor. There was no turning back now, and he was truly getting at it, without any form of warning or informing you of any discomfort felt. It was like Griffith only cared for his own pleasure and never left crumbs of remorse for your wellbeing. This left you scarred—physically, emotionally, and most significantly, spiritually.

“Mmmmmm……I’m getting quite close.” Griffith smirked as he leaned forward. “What are you going to do about it, princess? Squirm? Run away?”

Your eyes widened at his remark, your body telling you to escape as he was nearing his release. You certainly did not want to carry his child, nor want to do anything with the monster who pounded on you animalistically.

“Noooooo!!!!!!” your voice protested while being muffled by the pillows where your head rested.

“As I said, you’ll take whatever’s been given to you. Now….”

It wasn’t long before your body betrayed you. You felt your climax approaching despite being against the thought of Griffith fucking you. Subconsciously, you fucked back, trying to get Griffith’s cock deep in you before you could feel his fluids leaking straight from your soaked cunt.

Three.

Two.

One.

Your moans and grunts filled the pillow, adding to its warmth while Griffith bit down your neck out of extreme pleasure. His thrusts sped up as he began to feel ropes of cum shooting itself inside you before pulling out. And the feeling was mutually GOOD. You let out a groan as your muscles relaxed, Griffith moaning as his cum began to leak out from your newly filled cunt. You were soaking wet and drenched in sweat as Griffith stayed inside you for long.

You were now marked as his. You didn’t know what to do at this point as you were deflowered after your coronation day.

“Sleep well, princess. Provided you are to raise a child from our time together, just let me know. We can build a kingdom where you could rule by my side.”

You couldn’t respond, which prompted Griffith to flip your body back to lying on your back. It was truly a tiresome night, filled with intensity and passion as Griffith stole everything from you.

You just never stood a chance.

Your eyes suddenly admitted defeat, staring up at Griffith as he looked down at you with a look of an angel. He was charming, so to speak, but heavily dedicated to what he promised to achieve.

And he achieved it.

He achieved his dream.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 14 all chapters

warnings: The Author is choosing not to spoil the chapters with super specific warnings, (honestly they annoy me, sry). From here on out, expect sexual content. This is a yandere fic. If you have squicks, you probably shouldn't be reading this. Ye've been warned. I love you all. Carry on. 😘

-However, when you get back to your hostel, you find the doors are locked. It’s not even that late, and they actually fucking locked you out. Only then do you see the sign outside that proclaims they in fact will do this at the ridiculously early hour of ten o’clock.

“Shit.”

Seemingly calmer now, John slings an arm around your shoulders against the night’s chill. “I’ll get you a room in my hotel;” he promises. “It’s my fault I kept you out so late.”

You would be a liar if you pretended you did not consider the possibilities of this arrangement.

John is staying in a beautiful old boutique hotel with an ornate carved stone façade and wrought iron balconies. As it turns out the room directly next to his is vacant. A miracle, considering it’s the height of the season. He takes you up to get you settled, and brings you one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

Somewhere along the way he’s lost his suit jacket and tie, and you are hypnotized by the sight of him in just his shirt, his trim waist on display.

“Will you help me with my zipper?” you ask. You’re not being completely conniving. A kind comrade at the hostel did assist you in getting dressed in your dorm room.

He helps you like a gentleman with no real funny business, pulling the fine fastening down. You know he can’t help but brush the bare skin of your spine a little with his fingertips, but it is a fight not to squirm with the desire that small touch ignites within you again, moist heat pooling between your thighs. When he finishes the gesture with a seemingly innocent caress of the tops of your shoulders, you burn.

You turn in his arms, feeling the dress falling down your shoulders as you do, and stand on tiptoe to press your lips to his. He freezes for a single moment before his arms wrap around you in answer, holding you so hard you fear your bodies might fuse. He kisses you like he intends to eat you, his tongue sweeping your mouth and warring with yours, his teeth grazing the swell of your lower lip.

A part of you wonders how long its been, since he’s touched a woman. Since his wife passed? Is that why his hands shake as they slide into your hair, pulling just hard enough to get your attention? His mouth finds the line of your neck, branding you with kisses on your sensitive skin. Somehow, your hands work just enough to undo the first three buttons of his shirt, before he catches your mitts in his.

“Wait…” It is hard to tell if it is a request or an order, caught between a pant and a growl. He kisses you again, bending you over backwards and stealing your breath away. “You have had a lot to drink, and I am trying to do this the right way, and I am barely holding on. Please, y/n.” He presses his forehead to yours, as though he can will you to understand what is going on in that mysterious mind by osmosis alone.

“It’s ok,” you try to soothe him, hardly recognizing your own voice. “I want you. I want you so much, and for so long…” If he thinks this all was just a whim of yours brought on by too much alcohol, boy is he mistaken.  

A yip of surprise escapes you as suddenly he lifts you in his arms, as though you weigh nothing at all, carrying you to the bed and pressing you down into the soft mattress with hands on your shoulders, breathing heavily. You reach for him again, starving little thing that you are, but he catches your hands in his. “Stop.”

Thoroughly chastised, you freeze. Again, there’s that steely tone. Wide eyed, you look up at him, his hair a wavy mess from your fingers, his shirt half undone. He is beautiful, and there is something wild in his eyes that takes your breath away.

You are so confused. What did you do wrong?

He lets out a ragged sigh as he straightens, running his fingers through his hair.  

You are soothed a little, when he touches your lifted knee lightly, running fingertips down the blade of your bare shin. With precise fingers he unties the bows of your shoes at your ankles, removing them from your feet and setting them on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The moment his hands are absent from your skin you whine, knowing you sound like a cat in heat, but absolutely too drunk on desire as much as booze to care.  

“Shh,” he says, gentler this time. “We can talk about this in the morning. Right now, you need to get some rest.”

He touches your bare foot, tracing the arch, dwarfing it in his big hands, before turning to go. You sense you really are about to lose him for the night, and in your desperation you play your last card, not knowing where you get the cheek or the bravery to do so.

“But Mr. Wick…” you whine, and he freezes in his tracks. You can see the tension thrumming between his powerful shoulders, fighting with the decision to stay or to go. “Sir, haven’t I been a good girl?”

He turns back to you then, those burning dark eyes narrowed down at you. Just that single look floods you with a searing wave of heat, and you soak through your panties for the umpteenth time that evening. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the agonizing ache this man inspires between your legs.

You’ve never actually done this before with a man, but some woman’s intuition in you knows that at last, you’ve got him in the bag.  

“Young lady, do you know what game you’re playing?” he warns, taking a step closer to the bed.

Maybe he’s right to caution you, but you’ve come too far now to care. “I need you.”

At least that much is true.  

He lets out a shuddering sigh, taking the remaining step to bring him back to you. You reach for him as he bends down, but he catches your hands again with a tut-tutting sound. You are beginning to think he doesn’t want you to see what’s beneath his shirt—which seems absurd, because from what you felt he’s fucking gorgeous and frankly, way fitter than you.

“These stay here,” he directs, pressing your hands above your head. His tone is not harsh this time, but low, still unyielding as stone. You reckon he’s a man who is used to being obeyed. It’s not your strong suit, but there is something buried in you that finds this new game unusually titillating.

“Or what?”

This wins you a dark little chuckle that lifts the hairs all over your body.

“Or, else.”

Something in that last word makes you squirm, and again you press your thighs, the ache you feel there bordering on pain. “Okay,” you agree breathily, too crazed by lust to care how ridiculous you must sound.

Finally, his lips are on yours again, a soft kiss with the barest slide of tongue that only leaves you wanting more, your nipples drawn to painful peaks. You whimper as he withdraws to kiss your throat, then lower on your chest.

“Shh, you needy thing,” he admonishes softly. “Good girls don’t whine.”

Somehow you manage to catch your next little sound in your throat, though it still comes out a strangled peep. You feel him smile over your breast, before he gives the bodice of your dress the slightest tug. In your current state it’s all it takes to bare your pebble-hard nipple to him, which he kisses with tenderest care, flicking his tongue over the bud. It sends spears of pleasure straight to your loins, and in that moment you think you really might die from wanting this man. You writhe beneath him, and without thinking your fingers find their way to his hair, grabbing soft fistfuls of dark curls in your desperation.

Immediately, he stops.

“What did I say about those?”

Suddenly you are on the edge of tears.

“I can’t….”

He stands, and you watch with fascination as those sure fingers flick open the silver buckle of his belt. He whips the leather from the loops with a crack. The sound startles you, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. The tent in his pants is more than impressive, but there is a sharp glint in his eye, and you can’t help but worry a little about what he intends to do with that belt.

With the leather doubled in his hand he caresses the line of your shins. You cannot help but part your legs a little, and he smiles. It’s almost a cruel curl of lips, but you are a broken thing, and all you can manage is anticipation mixed with the slightest bit of fear for what he has planned for that designer strip of leather.

“You will,” he corrects you, looping the belt around your wrists and making a knot. It doesn’t hurt, but…you are genuinely trapped. “Where do these go?”

With a sigh you return them above your head.

“What was that?”

“Here, Sir.”

“That’s my good girl.”

Those four words utterly wreck you.

He returns his attention to your bent legs, his fingertips ghosting up your thighs, higher and higher to disappear under the lace of your skirt. You sigh with relief when his fingers hook in the sides of your silk panties, slowly drawing them down your hips. He smiles wickedly at the damp little bundle in his big hand.

“These are ruined.” He sounds so very pleased about it as he slides them into his pocket.

“Before we even went to dinner,” you confess, and it’s absolutely true. The sharp look he pays you is a breathtaking mix of awe and hunger.

“You really want me so much?” There is an incongruous vulnerability in this question that tugs at your heartstrings, as though he can hardly believe it.

At this point, you might as well go for broke. Maybe he’ll feel less like he’s taking advantage of you if you admit, “I’ve missed you. From the moment I left I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

  A pained sound escapes from low in his throat at hearing it, and he sits on the bed beside your feet, his touch agonizingly light upon the backs of your calves. He meets your eyes unwaveringly as he pushes your legs apart, gentle but exacting.

You are putty in his hands.

He ducks to kiss just the inside of your knee, lingering there as he looks down upon you completely bared to him. You are sure he can see your folds glistening and swollen, needing him with every iota of your being.

Yet he sits completely still, and the next sound you make more resembles a frustrated little snarl.

“Did you just growl at me?” You can tell by his voice that he is inwardly laughing at you.

Wondering what punishment that would entail, you hold your breath to stay silent.

He ducks lower then, nipping at the inside of your thigh with a harsh little suck, and you know there will be a bruise there in the morning.

“You’re like a fierce little kitten with her claws out. Big eyed and soft and so fucking adorable.”

You’re not sure if you like this or not, but his mouth continues downward, and as he nears the apex of your thighs you forget all about it. When his tongue touches your clit you make a sound like a sob; you’ve never felt anything so good in your life. He circles you slowly, paired with hard laps of the flat of his tongue, and you cannot help but arch into him. The sliding pressure of one of his long fingers inside you is heaven, and yet somehow, not enough.

“God, I want you,” you plead as you writhe against his skilled ministrations. “Let me cum on your big cock buried inside me?”

He makes a low sound deep in his throat in answer, the vibrations themselves are nearly enough to push you over the edge. You feel him shake his head no slowly in answer, his tongue a menace and a marvel as it kneads your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Please?”

You forget everything in the throes of your desire for him, maybe even your own fucking name, and that is when you make the mistake of moving your hands again, touching his soft hair with your fingertips to get his attention.

He looks up at you then, and you’re not sure how just the lift of an eyebrow can communicate such volumes, but as his eyes meet yours you know you fucked up.

He abandons you in your need, standing beside the bed again. You are too astonished to say anything, just watching him in pure agony. His eyes flick to your wrists, as though he’s considering leaving you trussed like a Christmas goose, before he releases the belt with two sharp tugs.

“We can try this again tomorrow.”

“John…” you’re finally able to protest, hating the broken sound of your voice, your every nerve at painful attention. “Mr. Wick…”

He doesn’t look back until he reaches the door, turning to look over his shoulder with his hand on the handle. He brings his index finger to his mouth, licking the juices you left there, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Don’t even think about touching yourself. That sweet little pussy is mine.”

Shocked and dumbfounded, you watch as he makes his exit through the adjoining door, and locks it behind him. You hear the click, and in all your frustration you throw a pillow across the room, certain he can hear your enraged little shriek.

He makes no answer, letting you stew in the anguish of your unfulfilled desire.

[chishiyasleftnut]

I love your writing smmmm <33 could you do chishiya with girlfriend who suffers from anxiety? (Social anxiety) one and kind of introverted type?? Thank youuuu.

Hi there! Thank you for your support and request (-^〇^-)

This one is really short, but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please let me know if you’re fine with the occasional short fic! Life has been quite busy lately as I’m both moving apartment and writing my bachelor’s thesis, so I haven’t had much time and energy to write for this blog, sadly. 

Nonetheless, I managed to finish this cutie! I hope you’ll enjoy it ( ღ’ᴗ’ღ )

(It wasn't planned, but there's no gendered language regarding the reader, so this time it's a gn!reader story!)

Silly Thoughts

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warnings: None! Pure fluff. Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader.

Plot: gn!reader suffers from social anxiety, leading them to cancel an event hosted by Chishiya’s work. Chishiya, who does not understand anxiety, tries to figure out why and attempts to help gn!reader overcome their anxiety.

1090 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“I just don’t feel like it.”

For the past week, your mind had been filled by nothing but the big event you had agreed to attend. Chishiya, your boyfriend, had been invited to a seminar run by the hospital he worked at - invited was a kind word, as it was definitely not voluntary whether or not he attended. Luckily for him, he was allowed to bring a guest, giving him a tiny sliver of hope that he wouldn’t be completely bored out of his mind.

“Why not?” Chishiya asked while tying his tie in the mirror. He had never understood why you were so anxious about social gatherings. Sure, he didn’t like them either, but he wouldn’t say he was anxious about them. Annoyed would probably be a better word.

He watched you in the mirror as you fiddled around with your hands, trying to come up with an excuse that could be somewhat believable. As always, you didn’t meet his eyes when you were anxious. He had yet to figure out why, but his best guess was that you were scared he could read your mind or something.

“I don’t feel like it today,” you repeated. “I feel sick.”

“Sick?”

Chishiya turned around to face you, immediately springing into his well-known role as a doctor and taking a few steps closer to you before putting his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. Just as he suspected, you didn’t have a fever. You were, however, shaking enough to hit a 6.5 on the Richter-scale, trembling as if your body was the epicentre of an earthquake.

“Why don’t you want to go?” he asked again, his hand moving around your face as he continued to feel for a fever.

No reply came out of your mouth, your eyes glued to the floor. With a gentle finger on your chin, Chishiya raised your head, so you were looking him in the eyes. You were expecting him to look angry that you were trying to get out of a promise; to be pissed that you didn’t want to do this one thing for him; but he didn’t look mad. No, quite the contrary - he looked… concerned?

“Tell me,” he insisted again, his tone softer than you’ve heard him before.

Your mouth kept opening and closing, no words coming out as you tried to figure out how to explain to him what was wrong. Your own fears felt silly to you and admitting an irrational fear like that to someone as chronically logical as Chishiya felt like defeat - even though he was your long-term boyfriend whom you loved dearly. Surely you should feel open with him at this point, no? So far, he had yet to belittle any of your thoughts, no matter how small and irrational they were. He was safe and you knew that.

“I don’t like big crowds.”

“Really?” your boyfriend asked, sounding slightly confused. Chishiya had never suffered from any type of social anxiety. Mostly he just found unnecessary social interaction bothersome to deal with - not anxiety provoking. “Why not?”

“I’m… I don’t know. I’m scared people will talk to me and I won’t know what to say, or maybe I’ll fall flat on my face in front of everyone and they’ll laugh, or I’ll-“

Chishiya interrupted you with a finger on your lips and a small chuckle, slightly amused by the way your brain was spinning itself into death, circling around every hypothetical scenario.

“That won’t happen. You’re intelligent and very much capable of walking without falling over your own feet.”

“But what if I’m not?” you asked with a small voice, almost sounding like a child.

Although Chishiya was still smiling, you didn’t feel as if he was making fun of you. Instead, it was clear that he just enjoyed getting a glimpse into how you worked. From the first time you met, Chishiya knew that you and he were very different people, and truth be told that was what he loved about you the most. You were almost like a puzzle to him - a constant riddle he couldn’t wait but solve. He was almost itching to figure you out, excited by the way you were led by emotions instead of logic like he was.

“Okay,” he finally said after a while, his hands immediately working on loosening his tie. “We’ll stay home. I’ll call and tell them I’ve gotten sick.”

No words, not even ‘pure and utter relief’, could adequately describe your facial expression. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you had been holding, immediately feeling ten times calmer and lighter at his words.

“But,” he continued while placing his tie on the table and slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You’re starting therapy for this.”

“Therapy?” you asked, now sounding slightly anxious again.

“Yes, therapy. You can’t avoid crowds forever, you know? I’ll help you find someone who can help you with this.”

Chishiya’s eyes darted all over your face as you took in his ultimatum. At last you decided that potential therapy sometime in the future was way less scary than the concrete social event you were otherwise forced to attend. Hence, you nodded and accepted his demand.

With his white dress shirt open, Chishiya pulled you into a hug and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, pausing with his lips pressed against your face to savour the serene moment. You allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, letting the remnants of his aftershave travel up your nose and overwhelm your senses, effectively grounding you in reality and melting away every lasting remain of the anxiety that had previously paralysed you. All that mattered right now was him - not some stupid medical seminar. Crisis averted.

“You know,” he finally said after a minute of silence. "You can always tell me if something is wrong. Even if you think it’s silly.”

“I know, I just feel stupid admitting silly stuff.”

A sharp exhale of air huffed out of Chishiya’s nose and travelled over your forehead as he half-chuckled at your words.

“You can be silly without being stupid. You’re never stupid.”

For a few seconds, you let his words calm your mind. You didn’t want to admit it, but that was exactly what you needed: to know that Chishiya didn’t find you to be unintelligent just because of the way your anxiety was dictating your life at times. You felt Chishiya’s lips graze your forehead again, sealing in his words and cementing them in your mind.

You are never stupid.

[abyssruler]

i love how u write the delinquent childe esp in the 711 diaries… he is everything i could ever want if it isn’t too much trouble can u write a little drabble of him?? idm the content <3

7-eleven diaries spin-off

childe x gn!reader

fluff, comedy-ish, friends to lovers, getting together, childe basically being your sugar daddy

from my other fic the 7-eleven diaries with hints of delinquent childe sprinkled in, sort of a continuation on childe’s part and what could’ve happened if he’d been more persistent. ok so i rarely ever actually write requests bc i’m too lazy but you bet if you request anything for childe i will most likely do it. i just love writing him

Your friend Ajax is a little strange—scratch that, he’s a lot strange.

“So, as I was saying, my friends and I are hosting a party at my house, and I’d really like it if you came.”

His eyes bore into you, a sort of blue that mirrored the depths of the ocean. It’s no wonder he intimidates a lot of people, his eyes alone could scare anyone with thalassophobia. Luckily for you, you don’t have much fear of anything besides failing class, which is why you’d have to turn down his offer.

“Can’t. I’ve got a test tomorrow.” You pick up a soda that’s frankly worth more than your entire week’s worth of allowance and scan it.

Ajax leans on the counter, blinking his eyes up at you in what he probably thought was cute, but really only managed in giving you the ick. “Aw, c’mon. Pretty please?”

“I’m charging you extra if you don’t stop bugging me.”

He sighs dramatically, conceding with a pout. But the calculating look on his face tells you that you should be on your guard for the next few days.

✧

You were correct.

Your classmate Ajax is annoying.

He’d gone from being a slight bother in the 7-eleven you work at to somehow being enrolled in your university and coincidentally sharing all of your classes. Even the ones that don’t have anything to do with his major.

“Hey, let’s have lunch together after class!” He accosts you while you were in the middle of placing your things back in your bag. You were about to say no, citing an excuse about meeting with a friend or finishing some unfinished homework, but your attention was caught when he adds, “Don’t worry about the money, I’ll pay for our food.”

And so you find yourself sitting at a high end restaurant, staring at a menu that lists the cheapest food possible as the exact amount of your monthly salary. Ajax remains unbothered by the price, watching you with his elbows on the table and fingers interlocked, chin resting on top of his hands and waiting for you to pick which one you’d like.

Well, he did say he was paying so…

You order the ones you’d have never been able to afford and, for good measure, an expensive cup of ice cream that would normally cost ten mora at any convenience store. He doesn’t even flinch when the bill is presented, only smiling like he’s having the best day as he hands his card to the waiter.

He even drives you home that day with his fancy car that looks just a little too polished for you to mistake his intentions. He’s bragging and trying to impress you.

And, well, consider yourself impressed.

✧

Your boyfriend Ajax is crazy.

Not even the fun kind of crazy, no. This is beyond insane, a catastrophe, borderline harassment—

“I’d like to dedicate this song to my lovely sugarpie who deserves the world and more!”

He’s standing outside your classroom window, a guitar in hand while his friends hold a microphone to his mouth and a speaker that would make even your university’s auditorium speakers sound like a whisper. People are staring, students and professors alike pointing at him and then to you, a grin on their faces whilst some of the older professors look scandalized.

Ajax remains smiling, singing the cringiest song you’ve ever heard in your life with his off-tune voice. Not even Venti made you feel this much second hand embarrassment.

With one final wink and a kiss he blows in your direction, he ends the song.

You hate Valentine’s Day.

(At least the chocolates and flowers were good.)

[chronic-optimistt]

YOU WRITE ICEBREAKER FANFIC OMG BEST NEWS EVER!!!! also lol fo you have any other family headcannons your enjoying cureently its no big deal if you dont!

I DO!!! my user on ao3 is imdeadsirius and i’m dedicated to exclusively icebreaker fics :)) got my first little au almost finished and should be up this month! soooo excited for yall to see this one !!

Now here’s some headcanons ! I’ll share some more in the future if that’s what yall want

I’ve made a post of this before but Mickey wears a necklace with a “J” charm because he can tells everyone it stands for “James” but the real ones know it’s for “Jaysen”

Whenever Nova + Mickey don’t like someone they call them a “3-in-one” (calling them unhygienic; a user of 3-in-1 soap) ex. some asshole: “I agree with the All Lives Matter movement.” *walks away* Mickey and Nova: “what a fuckin 3-in-one”

Dorian doesn’t wet his toothbrush before brushing his teeth. he says the saliva in his mouth is enough. diabolical.

I touched on this briefly in a fic, but Cauler is a naturally good artist. He’s got doodles for days and they’re all surprisingly lovely. Sometimes he draws in the corner of the page of Mickey’s homework when he’s not looking and Mickey finds it and secretly thinks it’s so fucking cool how genuinely talented he is without even having to try

Novas a huge swiftie. Like. Huge. I mean this chick is a straight white girl with a thing for hockey boys and a canonical ao3 addiction. There’s no way around it.

^ Cauler absolutely hates Taylor Swift. Like. Rolls his eyes whenever the name is uttered. Is visibly disgusted when her music plays in a public facility. The second someone outs themself as a swiftie he’s putting at least 8 feet of space between the two of them and sanitizing his hands in fear

Mickey’s shoe size is legitimately oddly small. Like when Barbie joked that he had fetus feet he was borderline right. Bro’s a men’s 8 on a good day

Mickey falls asleep during class alllll the time but when he does in their public speaking class Celeste and Nathaniel make a game out of stuffing as many pens in the hood of his sweater as they can before he wakes up and then letting him walk around all day with pens falling out of his hood and internally confusing the fuck out of him as he wonders which of his pockets he has pens falling out of unknowingly

^ when his teammates pick up on this they start to do it during the team study sessions except instead of pens it’s like tupperware containers and tissue boxes and stress balls and instead of in his hood it’s them balancing random shit on his body so Mickey’s eventually just like got his head resting on his arm snoozin with everyone’s stuff stacked on the back of his head in a giant tower on the verge of toppling

Delilah is obsessed with asmr and it annoys the shit out of everyone because she’ll just be sitting in the corner listening to *tappy tap tap* when ppl are trying to sleep

Mickey’s mom used to tend to his hair when he was little and it now brings him so much comfort when people play with his hair. Sometimes when he’s chilling with his sisters they’ll sit behind him and take out a comb and brush it out of his face and he’s like falling asleep. The first time Cauler runs his fingers through his hair he absolutely fuckin melts. (Cauler does it a whole lot more after noticing how much he likes it.)

[quietlyimplode]

here again now

Warnings: violence/aftermath of torture

Word Count: 2047 (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha is captured, tortured and left with insomnia. (Part 2/4)

A/N: Chapter 2 - Tony worries; Natasha talks about where she’s been and no one sleeps.

(pls note that the fic starts below and finishes on ao3 - i know how annoying it is to start on one platform only to have it finish on another)

The night is rough.

They stay in the hospital wing.

There’s drugs in Natasha’s system that sends off flags. Residual adrenaline, and some other run of the mill drugs, but nothing that Bruce can find that would give her such fear of being asleep.

It’s psychological.

It’s clear from her demeanour, though her shaking hands and hyper vigilance, make Clint think that other things have happened that they can’t test for.

He wants to ask.

Is desperate to ask.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he sits with her throughout it the night, holding her tight, changing positions, talking about stories from the past.

The hours are slow.

He wonders if it’s the same for her.

He thinks it is as she apologizes, and tries to push him towards bed.

She tells him she’ll be fine, as shaking hands drink water.

As she comes back from the bathroom with a wet face, clear that she’s tried to use water to refresh herself.

“Sorry,” she apologizes again as he licks his lips and changes his position.

The silence that follows is loud, her apology hanging.

He regrets the look at the time.

3.15am.

He sighs.

Even a couple of hours.

“You can go to sleep,” she whispers, “I’ll be okay.”

He throws her a look, knowing he needs sleep.

Especially if tomorrow is like today.

Images of her being rolled out of the van play in his mind.

He wonders that even if he did sleep, would he dream?

Would he wake up gasping?

Would he have dreams?

He doesn’t know.

He offers her water, and she takes it, sipping it gratefully.

“Come on, lie down with me,” he offers.

He’s tired. He wants sleep but he wants to keep her safe more.

It’s four am.

The night almost done.

He yawns heavily, and finally she talks, voice hoarse; he thinks she’s reached a point where she’s going to fall asleep, so all that’s left is for her to talk.

It’s self preservation.

To keep herself awake.

Clint yawns.

He prompts a yawn from Natasha and he pulls the cover a little higher around them.

“She’d threaten you. She said if I fell asleep, she’d kill you. They’d monitor my heart rate, when it dropped below a level, they’d electrocute me. They said.. They left you alive. Clint, she didn’t want anything. But she kept me awake, just to torture me.”

She swallows hard.

Clint puts his hand over hers, her fingers picking at her cuticles. Looking up to him, she reaches for his face.

He closes the gap and allows her to touch his face.

“She said that I killed you. Every time I fell asleep. That I wanted you to die. She’d count down, tell me that I only had five chances left. Time was a loop. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I think she wanted me to sleep because then she’d wake me up with drugs, adrenaline, I think. Then leave me. My heart felt like it was going to explode. I was handcuffed. I couldn’t move.”

She huffs and he knows she’s crying.

He doesn’t comment.

Holding tight onto her hand, he squeezes it gently.

“I don’t want you to die, Clint.”

He nods.

“I’m not going to die, Nat,” he assures her.

She shakes her head.

“This isn’t real,” she moans.

“We’ve been here before, don’t you see? I can’t tell if I’m awake or asleep, and if I’m asleep, then when I wake, you won’t be here. She’s going to kill you.”

She turns and the tears continue down her face.

“I’m asleep. You’re not real. This is just my mind conjuring images. I was asleep? I am asleep? Am I awake? You… They woke me? And now we’re here.”

She settles back in against him. He words jumbled and not making sense.

“You’re not real,” she repeats.

“But I wish you were.”

.

Continued

[natewriteslol]

Trailer: No Strings Attached...

Summary: Peter Parker has been developing a huge crush on you, yet you have no idea. He feels as though he cannot act on it, a “forbidden fruit” as dubbed by his acquaintances. So what does Peter do when the residential player on the MIT campus has his eyes on you for a bet...

Gender neutral reader

Peter Parker x reader

The guy who stumbled into your lecture with only half his flannel shirt buttoned, his brown hair slightly jostled. His eyes widened in fear of being a nuisance yet he didn’t really disturb the current atmosphere of the lecture. His demeanor resembled a startled puppy in a way. 

Peter Parker. You knew of him slightly from high school since he occasionally had something chaotic going on and when the professor would call his name for accidentally dozing off or coming to collect a paper of some sort. 

You had always thought he was a cutie for sure, but maybe he had some insomnia problem with the way he would fall asleep. 

Yet, that one day when he was late to the lecture was what brought you both together. 

The seat next to you was the only one that was free, the brunette would occasionally make glances at your face concentrated on the professor. Not wanting to annoy you, but desperately needed the notes you had already taken. 

“Hey do you mind if I look at your notes really quick?” he asked shakily as if you were some spooky beast. 

“Uh, of course,” you replied pushing the notebook towards him, feeling sorry for him since he was so unnecessarily anxious. While it didn’t mean anything, the ‘of course slightly reassured Peter that he wasn’t being a pest toward you. 

After the lecture, while you were putting away your things he came up to talk to you. 

“I’m really sorry I bothered you for notes, I just wanted to say thank you,” he said to you apologetically. 

“Trust me, there’s nothing for you to apologize for,” you replied while putting your notebook away, “We all occasionally come in late, I’m Y/N.” 

You gave him a reassuring smile. 

You didn’t know what it was, but you saw something in his eyes telling you that he needed it. 

~~~

Sooner or later you two became pretty good friends, catching lunch with each other after class. And you’ve finally just started to visit each other’s dorm rooms. Yet Peter didn’t want to get attached, rarely any friends were allowed, let alone a partner after the incident. 

With Spiderman’s name still disgraced and having no friends besides a couple acquaintances from class and then, you. 

While you were a gorgeous person, Peter couldn’t allow himself to fall for you, you’re just friends. 

Does a friend think about your beauty?

Yet, would a friend fiend for when your elbows or knees accidentally touch? 

Does a friend look forward for you to your message or to seeing them an abnormal amount? 

Does a friend fantasize about being with you?

Maybe it’s just curious thoughts, nothing deep or anything special, yet why does it eat at you inside when you’re laying in bed, Peter? 

The splash of cold water hit his face, trying to clear his thoughts after he finished a stack of homework. Ink staining his veined hands from his pen, inscriptions of notes carrying on and on. 

Just as he was right about to go to bed, the brunette had gotten a buzz on his phone, lazily draping his hand on the device he looked to see who it was, you. 

Y/N :): I’m sorry it’s late asl I was up doing my essay but do you wanna stop by the cafe tomorrow?

There was never a time that he said no after all except if he were doing hero work. So of course he replied, 

Peter: Sounds great, I’ll be there :) 

You were his weakness...but just in a friendly way of course. 

No strings attached. 

Reminder that this is a trailer and the full fic will be done soon, I know that this is different from my other content but lemme know what yall think :D

[that-left-turn]

Look at you, think you're a real writer because you wrote some fic that isn't even finished. You aren't 👏🏼 qualified 👏🏼 to judge👏🏼 the SO without having seen it. NR and MMB are executive producing and they love the finale! They have experience and know the characters. Stop ruining it for everybody!!!

I have concerns about "the best one hour of The Walking Dead anything ever," that's true, but I have watched S1 so my opinions on the spinoff are not "sights unseen." Most of my concerns regarding 206 can have been addressed in post and I hope they have, but the big issue is that the climax of the season is framed in a deeply problematic way and it's not possible to cut or reedit it into something less off-putting because that's literally the culmination of the season's emotional arc(s). I don't think Melissa has said anything about the quality of the season finale and that's a statement in itself, but if she does tell us TBOC is the best thing on television, I’ll believe her.

As EPs, Norman and Melissa give notes on the script drafts, which may or may not have been addressed because the studio and/or showrunner saw things a different way. They might've given notes on the cuts which again, may or may not have been acted on because of opinions, time constraints or money. They will have given notes on the edits, which could've been ignored because "that's not the direction we're going in." Being an EP doesn't make anyone the feudal lord of the manor.

Unless you're a senior producer with years worth of experience, you don't want to comment on every little thing that doesn't conform to how you see things (and if you're a senior N/W EP, you won't unless you're an asshole too). Yes, the actors know their characters, but there are many things taken into consideration when producing a show that have very little to do with "artistic vision." Often, that vision has to fit into "what can I do for X amount of money in the locations I have access to, with the cast and crew already at my disposal, without pissing off anyone at the studio and still deliver on time?"

If you're not part of the hive mind at the studio, you're not the showrunner and you don't have a background of dealing with all the minutiae that goes into the actual tedious parts of making of a show—a lot of detail work, plenty of big figure costs and all the logistics—you pick the things that matter the most and those are the battles you fight as a junior producer. People who have experience don't appreciate having their job explained to them by others who don't know what it entails and as someone with a newly minted EP title, you don't want to get a reputation for being annoying. Producing functions like an apprenticeship, you learn from those who've done it longer.

"But Norman says..." Norman says a lot of things and various factions of fandom seem to believe him whenever it suits their own narrative. Carylers didn't believe what he said when Melissa was pushed out, but now he's speaking the gospel because it sways the tide of some imaginary battle against other fans? Norman embellishes and exaggerates—much like other actors when they try to hype their projects. S1 numbers were bad and he's trying to get more eyeballs by way of hyperbole.

We’ll see once the episode airs how truthful Norman’s assertion of "the best hour of TWD anything ever" is and whether I was wrong about my fears. I suspect that for the majority of Carylers the quality of the story won’t matter much if they get canon. If they don’t, though, what then? For Melissa's sake, I hope the season does reasonably well and that Carol's emotional arc revolving around Sophia won't feel cheap, but TWDU needs better writers than the regurgitated middle-aged white men currently in AMC employ.

[avatarmerida]

A Reliable Source

This is a deleted scene from the fake dating huntlow fic I’m working on rn that doesn’t make sense with the direction I decided to go in but I still really like it so y’all can have it as a treat if you want. 

---

 “Listen Blondie,” snarled Boscha, slamming Hunter’s locker closed before he could finish gathering the books he needed as she pointing her finger menacingly in his face. “You’re gonna do my Isles History homework for a week or else.”

“Or else what?” Hunter snarled back, reopening his locker to finish collecting his stuff having no intention of fearing or helping the bully in front of him.

“Or else I’ll tell the whole school you’ve got a crush on half-a-witch Willow,” finished Boscha smugly, crossing her arms.

“Don’t call her that,” he said, his voice low and serious as he went to walk away before he stopped himself, having registered what else she had said. “And please don’t say anything.” he added quietly, something more bubbling beneath the surface of his request as his hand fidgeted at his side.

“Well, if you don’t want everyone thinking you’re-.”

“- because if she hears it from you, she’ll never believe it’s true!” Hunter cut her off in a small panic.

“Wait, what?” The entitled and confident smiled fell from her face. 

“She won’t believe it, she’ll think it’s another dumb rumor you’re trying to spread!” Hunter said, more to himself than to her as he bit his knuckle,  processing the severity of Boscha’s threat.

“You... want her to believe it?” Boscha asked, truthfully never expecting this as a possibility. But Hunter didn’t hear her, he was far too caught up in the possibility of his carefully crafted plans to confess being undone in a second by the pink haired menace. “Um, hello? Stop ignoring me!”

“Maybe she won’t hear it,” reasoned Hunter, trying to steady his breathing. “Ugh, I haven’t finished the jacket I was gonna give her! I thought I had more time! It’s too early for the gromposal, but maybe she’ll tune it out when she hears your name come up then she won’t think-.”

“Excuse me, I was in the middle of blackmailing you,” said Boscha, her voice high pitched and annoyed as she waved her hand in front of his eyes to get his attention back on her. “Are you saying you don’t want me telling the whole school you have a crush on half-a-witch Willow because… you actually do?”

“Well duh!” He said, rolling his eyes. He thought it had made the fact clear to everyone but Willow, who he had planned to tell in an elaborate confession worthy of her.  “I wouldn’t lie about that!”

“And you’re not... embarrassed by it?”

Hunter looked at her like she had just said the most absolutely ridiculous thing he had ever heard, because she had. “Why would I be?” he asked. “I mean, sometimes feel sweaty and nervous about it, but never embarrassed.”

Boscha wasn’t used to being accused of telling the truth so she did not have a snarky response ready. She struggles to see how she could twist this to her advantage, starting another rumor stating the opposite seemed redundant and didn’t have her usual humiliation factor. 

“Well, I-.”

“Considering you still call her that awful name, she has no reason to believe anything you say is true.” continued Hunter. “But I guess a broken clock is right twice a day, even a clock as rude and obnoxious as you.”

“Hey!” she spat, furious that her plan was crumbling and she would most likely end up doing her own homework. “I-I can still ruin you!”

Hunter gasped. She was right. If Willow heard that Boscha was the source of the news of his crush of her, she’d dismiss it as one her lies! She might even think the opposite was true, considering the amount of lies Boscha was known for. There was a chance Willow might think he only liked her the way he liked Gus or Luz. Or even worse: the way he liked Amity. 

Purely platonic. 

No, he couldn’t bare the idea that she felt his feelings for her stopped at friendship when they were so much more advanced than that. 

“You can’t start the rumor if I tell her first!” Hunter declared loudly, pointing his finger at Boscha before turning to sprint down the hall at full speed. He half expected her to try and race him as his teleporting ability kicked it to help jumpstart him, leaving her equally confused and bitter as she watched her plan backfire before all three of her eyes.

The boy appeared before her once more in a flash of gold, his brown eyes turning from panic to fury as he said in a tone he had not used since he was actively the Golden Guard: “Also, DON’T call her half-a-witch!”

He disappeared once more as he teleported to his destination, his mind racing with how to cram the elaborate confession/grom proposal/flyer derby captain jacket reveal he had planned for weeks into a few sentences. The most important thing was he get far ahead of any rumors that could ruin the credibility of the statement. Had he only known today would be the day, he would’ve done something different with his hair! Titan, he certainly would’ve had more plant glyphs ready!

Boscha remained by his locker, her mouth agape like she was trying to catch flies as she yelled in frustration to no one.

“What the heck just happened???”

[deityoftherain]

post-concert highs - Gem and the Scotts Fanfic

Rating: Gen

Relationship: Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 1,436

Summary: Gem and the Scotts recently finished performing at a concert. They are just vibing as friends after it. That's it. That's the fic.

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

Sweat dripped off Gem’s face, down her arms, and soaked her clothing. Working under the heat of the spotlights for an hour and a half would do that to anyone. She was sure she smelled and that her clothes would need to be run through the washing machine twice but these shows always felt so exhilarating that she couldn’t dwell on the discomfort for long.

“Woo!” Impulse enthusiastically threw his hands up in the air once they entered the room. They had recently finished performing and talking to fans at a meet and greet. “Fantastic job, everyone! That was great!”

“I’ll never get over this high.” Scott looked exhausted but the grin on his face was wide. He bent over to grab a few water bottles from the flat for himself and his bandmates. When he turned back to them, he called out, “Hey, catch!” The first bottle was tossed to Impulse, who caught it with ease. Gem was thrown the next one. She had to reach a bit to be able to catch it before it hit something other than her hands but she did manage it. Scott and Impulse both cheered for her.

“It’s so cool that they love our music.” Gem felt pride build in her chest. They had released their first album “Cherry Blossoms” and they were overwhelmed with love and support. Gem wasn’t sure how so many people discovered their little band from the middle of nowhere online but she was not going to complain. Impulse had always been the one to handle their @gemandthescotts social media accounts and then the label whom they now work under. He would be the one to know all of the behind-the-scenes work on that front. Maybe she should ask him in-depth about it one day. “I wasn’t sure if we would’ve ever gotten out of my mom’s garage.”

“I knew we would.” Scott leaned forward to grab one of the towels sitting on the coffee table. He used it to help some of the sweat drifting off of him but he made sure not to touch his eye makeup. The blue would mark the white towel easily, seeing how much sweat would combine with it. “We did win our town’s Battle of the Bands three years in a row.”

“We also sucked for a long time though.” Impulse chuckled as he thought back to when they were still learning and finding their sound. “Your mom tried to be polite but I think we are the real reason she soundproofed the garage when we were ten.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Gem snorted at that. “She did always die on the inside when I said Scott was coming over.”

“Which one?” Scott asked, greatly amused at Gem’s words. Her mom had always been great to all three of them and they all loved her but they did like to joke around about being her annoying children. “Impulse Scott or me Scott?” “Both, duh. Mom would live in fear, never knowing which Scott was coming to haunt her doorstep!” Gem put on her best ghostly voice, even adding little ghost “oooo”ing noises at the end.

“She must have been so relieved when we started calling Impulse by a nickname.” Scott shifted his gaze to Impulse, a sly look in his eyes. “That way she could remember that Impulse was the one bad at the drums.” Impulse gasped, returning Scott’s sly expression with a flabbergasted one. “What do you mean? Are you saying I haven’t always been this perfect? I will let you know that my rhythm has been impeccable since I first held a pair of drumsticks.” “I could say I would pay to experience that again but I value being able to hear too much so I will have to graciously decline.” Scott continued to tease his friend, which just made Impulse gasp dramatically again.

Their lighthearted quips went back and forth for several moments. Gem just smiled lazily at them, taking sips of her water as she listened. She was grateful to have her closest friends as her bandmates. “You both are idiots.”

“How am I an idiot when I am supposed to be the smart Scott?” Impulse’s attention turned to her for a moment before shifting to side-eye Scott. “That guy though… hmm…” “Oh, shove off.” Scott tossed the now-empty water bottle at Impulse. It managed to hit his knee but it didn’t do anything more than make a few little crinkly sounds.

“I don’t know why we’re even friends.”  Impulse wiped several non-existent tears from his eyes. “You’re so mean to me.”

“You love me.” Scott blew him a kiss in response. Impulse grabbed the blown kiss from the air and placed it on his cheek. “Hey, where is my kiss?” Gem scrunched her nose at them, a false hurt written all over her face. “Last I heard, it’s ‘Gem and the Scotts’, not ‘Dumb and Dumber’! Don’t I deserve some love too?”

Impulse and Scott shared brief eye contact, mischief radiating off of them now. Oh no. What did she manage to spur both of them on about at the same time? Did all guys named Scott have a telepathic link that she didn’t know about?

Next thing she knew, Scott had plopped down to her right and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Impulse came in on the other side soon after.

“Hey!” Gem squeaked at their sudden attack. “Gross, I can feel your sweat. I said a kiss! I did not say ‘Everyone, jump on Gem!’” “We’re all sweaty already so it’s all good!” Impulse’s yellow face paint smudged against the black side of her shirt. The yellow side would have faded in more but she knew they would get cleaned enough to get the stain out.

“It can be both,” Scott responded at the same time as Impulse. He placed a quick kiss on her cheek and Gem just laughed at both of them.

“Okay, okay! You win!” Gem spread herself out as a way to nudge them off of her. She wasn’t mad at them but she did require to have her space again. “Off now, please. I am already hot enough without you two breathing on me.”

They complied instantly, getting off of both her and the couch she was sitting on. All three of them were laughing to the point it was a struggle to breathe. Their bodies were reacting to their little exchange, the adrenaline from the show, and the exhaustion they all felt weighing on them. Impulse was even doubling over and Scott had his head thrown back as they did so.

“I need to take a shower, change into something soft, and then pass out as soon as I’m under the covers.” Scott yawned loudly, putting his hand over his mouth as if to cover it.

“I need to take a shower and such too.” Impulse agreed with Scott’s plan of action. “Probably before the post-concert energy wears off.”

Gem groaned, leaning her head back against the couch. “I think it’s already worn off for me.”

“This is just an excuse for a sleepover.” Scott slid off his transparent, blue coat before tossing it on the back of the couch. “We will just do the sleeping part a little earlier than usual.”

“Ooo, yes!” Impulse lit up at Scott’s suggestion. “Gem, would you do us, the Scotts, the honor of having a sleepover in your room?” “You two act like we don’t have sleepovers almost every night.” Gem rolled her eyes affectionately. Everything was an excuse for a sleepover with these two. The question wasn’t if they were going to, because they usually were. It was more of debating if they were going to sleep early or if they were going to do whatever various activities they wanted to before sleeping. “Honestly, you two are so clingy.”

“Maybe,” Scott shrugged a shoulder with a cheeky smile on his face, “but you love us.”

“That’s debatable.” She stretched her arms up with a yawn, joints popping as she did so. Gem breathed out a soft sigh of relief as some of the tension left her. She did feel a little bit better but her body was still sore.

“Hey, you don’t mean that!” Impulse gave her the worst fake pout she had ever seen.

“Mhm, fine. I love you both.” Gem reassured them with a content smile. A happy buzz sent sparkling sensations throughout her body. One of her childhood dreams was becoming her reality and she was doing it with two people she cared deeply for. Nothing could be better than this.

[spotsandsocks]

Okay Spotty, Spotty pleaseeeeee 😭 actually genuine question because I'm honestly in awe of you and your talent but do you have any advice for writing long fics?? Or what is your process?? Because you always seem to be posting chapter after chapter of a new multi chapter masterpiece and I just asddghhjkllll?!?!?!

I WISH TO LEARN FROM THE MASTER 🙌🏼

Big love xx 💕😘

Oh my darling meegs! What a message to get!! I might have to frame it and take it out on the days that I’m feeling down about my writing.

First off thank you, thank you thank you , secondly master is definitely not what I is! 😂 but I appreciate the appreciation and I’ll admit I do seem to have kicked out a lot of words in under three years 😉

But seriously here’s my thoughts on your question. Got a bit long so under the cut.

No idea. That’s the honest answer which is obviously no good to anyone but let’s have a think about it together and see what we come up with…

I guess one thing will have to be I’m old 😂 well let’s say older 😉 and that means practice even if I’ve only been writing for three years. I”m going to sound big headed here but I think I’m pretty good with words in a lot of different contexts, I get compliments at work for reports and emails, especially how I explain things (written and verbal) to the people and children I work with. I’ve been doing that for 27 years and that’s got to help right?

I just wrote a line in author buck fic “make words dance across the page for a living”

When I’m writing it does feel like that… again with the fear of sounding cocky I’ve always been quick when writing anything, I don’t think first then write it, the words just come out, for example I have no idea where this sentence will go or finish. There is very little planning in my head about anything. I was that annoying person who finished exams early because I just threw up ideas on the page and they managed to fall out coherently.

So the writing bit just kinda happens whenever I get to sit down and write.

The longer fics the lost and found, the pern ones and Good knight are usually ten ish chapters deep and those chapters ready to share (mostly) before I start posting anything. This means I’m ahead of myself and can share and keep writing the newer chapters.

I usually… usually have the shape of the ending in my head when I start writing. Sometimes it’s the first thing I have , I knew how good knight would end months and months before I started those chapters and got almost 100k into the story before I got to include the first of the concepts that started the whole damn thing 😂

in other situations the whole thing moves with me the Ravi of it all in shifter fic didn’t happen till at least halfway through and I’ll be honest I got lucky with some things I had already written fitting what I wanted to do.

About getting time to write, I multitask, write while tv is on, in bed, at work (sometimes far too much… shame on me I know but I’m on top of my work and fulfil my commitments and they don’t pay me enough to go above and beyond, I’m also mostly in charge at work so no one is gonna tell me off either 😏 )

I write when I should be doing other things, read so much less than I used to and ignore 80% of dull household activities to prioritise the words. I write on my phone and iPad so it can come with me wherever I go and spare moments are dedicated to some editing or writing.

Ideas hit me while I’m driving and I’ll get key moments or fix a plot issue while I’m driving to work then have to hold onto it until I can find a pen! Not always easy! Sometimes I scribbles down ideas that hit me non sequentially so I can add them later - this leads to the odd incoherent email to myself if the idea hits in the middle of the night. 😳

I do tend to write in order ,usually heading towards that ending I’m already vaguely seeing. I write with chapters in mind and the length I want for them. GKSP and TLATF I was aiming for 10k. Author Buck I’m aiming for around 5 ish. The Pern ones esp the first one is much more erratic because I really didn’t have a plan there!

I write for a while then I’ll come back and read what I’ve written for that chapter from the start tweaking it and then carrying on further.

I read and read each chapt a lot!! A lot! And tweaks happen right to the last minute.

I work well under pressure, better maybe! I was writing 10k of chapter a week for shifter fic for the last 4weeks cos I’d caught up with myself! Was a bit stressful I’ll admit that but good too.

I started publishing author!buck for that reason, it had been sitting around for a year with maybe 20k/30k written and I thought the only way to drive it and me on was to start sharing. I will not let you all down once I start sharing,

Got really weird towards end of GKSP actually because I was worried I’d mysteriously die before I shared it all! Had several contingency plans in place to make sure the basic plot got shared! Strange little spot that I am!

Depression/burn out helped me too during the second year of writing. Writing was literally all I wanted to do so i dedicated all my spare time to it. When I went on meds some of the ideas slowed down which i didn’t like much at all! I was worried for a while but things settled down again, I don’t have as many wips anymore which might have something to do with that. Tend to write one fic at a time now. Kinda … unless inspiration hits!

Anyway that’s my story, not sure it helps in anyway and it got long so if you’re still reading this, well done and thanks.

Oh and a lot of cups tea have been sacrificed along the way… just looked up and another one’s gone cold 😉

[cloudynyims]

This is part two of the untitled Jamie/borrower fic I started... 6 months ago D: I genuinely didn't think I would lose gusto for that long but January-April is always busy for me w/ school so I'm not terribly surprised. But as promised, here is part two! Enjoy my first writing in 6 months :) Part 1 is here if you didn't read or forgot what happened! This part is about 2.1k words!

Roy was pissed off when they told him what happened while he was gone. “That stupid fucking prick. Not only was he lurking in my office, but he scared you half to death,” he seethed. They knew better than to interrupt Roy when he was worked up like this. Even still, they rolled their eyes.

“He didn’t scare me that badly,” They mumbled to themselves, trying to downplay the mind-numbing terror they had experienced. 

“Fucking hell. Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked them for the millionth time. They hadn’t seen Roy get this protective since the team first found them a year ago. 

“I told you, I’m fine. He didn’t do anything to me. He just asked me a few questions and then left me alone.” Roy didn’t seem to trust their words, but they knew he was just concerned. If Jamie had done anything, he’d be the first to take care of it.

“When I get my hands on that bastard, I swear I’ll…” They began to tune him out. When Roy was aggravated like this, it became a one-sided conversation. They usually listened politely, but their thoughts turned to Jamie. They kept replaying the moment in their head. When he saw them for the first time, how their entire body froze up with fear, and they could barely get a word out. 

But each time they thought about it again, his actions became less scary. He didn’t grab them, hurt them, prod at them, or do anything they seemed uncomfortable with. He didn’t yell, nor did he act malicious in any way. But they also couldn’t ignore how strongly the team felt about him.

They should still be cautious, right?

The Jamie they encountered was so different from the Jamie everyone described. He was gentle, considerate, and attentive. He was a little annoying before he noticed them, but after he wasn’t. He wasn’t demeaning or narcissistic either. The mix of opinions and actions messed with their head. Was he trustworthy or not?

For the next week, they tried to solve that mystery. They still spent most of their time during training in Roy’s pocket, but that was fine with them. It made it easier to observe Jamie. They started peeking out of the pocket when they were certain Roy wasn’t paying attention to them. They wanted to watch and understand how Jamie operated. They needed to see what he was like for themselves. 

To their surprise, Jamie seemed distant. They hadn’t seen him practice before, but this was not what they had expected. From what Roy had told them weeks prior, Jamie was still the same self-centered type of player. While his gameplay wasn’t really affected, even they could tell he seemed off. He had a few uncharacteristic errors during training.

Ted was getting on him about those, and Jamie just took it. They knew Jamie could run his mouth; his insults and backtalk often drove Roy to the edge. But now, he was hardly talking at all. He only nodded absently to any direction he was given. They were even more confused than they were before they started. 

They couldn’t figure it out. Why was he acting so strange? Roy still wasn’t coaching him, but that never bothered him before. The only thing that had taken place recently was him discovering them. They scoffed. He had no reason to be affected by that. He didn’t get towered over by someone he was told to be wary of. He didn’t get his wits scared out of him. There was no reason for their existence to influence him.

Practice had finished once they returned from the depths of their thoughts. Roy brought them back to his office to stretch their legs. Once he set them down, they began pacing on his desk, thinking again. He could tell something was wrong. “Oi,” He said to snap them out of their thoughts. “What’s up with you?”

They turned to face him. “Sorry,” They said with a small smile. “I was just thinking. I didn’t mean to worry you.” “You’re not worrying me.” He observed as they continued pacing. “Are you thinking about Jamie?” He asked suddenly. They looked up with a start. He continued, “If that twat is making you stressed out, I swear to fucking God that I will beat his ass into next week.”

That made them chuckle. “No, no, no, you don’t need to do that. I promise I’m okay,” They said waving him off.

He knew that wasn’t everything. “But?”

“I just… I can’t figure it out. Why has Jamie been so off lately?” Roy didn’t comment and waited for them to continue. “Is it my fault? He makes these errors in practice now, and I know how much it annoys you when he *doesn’t* make errors. And he seems so distant. He’s not talking much, and he hasn’t annoyed you in days!”

Roy sat back in his chair. “You say that like I enjoy it when he annoys me. I’ve been enjoying the peace,” Roy said with a ghost of a smile.

“That’s not what I meant,” They clarified. “I just… I feel bad. Like I drove him to this point or something.” They paused. “Like... maybe if I hadn’t been so nervous… or… maybe I should apologize—”

Roy interrupted them. “Apologize for what? That prick was snooping where he wasn’t supposed to be. Given how shitty he is, he shouldn’t have been surprised you reacted the way you did.” They cast their gaze down, still unconvinced.

He reached out to tap their shoulder reassuringly. “You’re a good person, and I know you care. But don’t waste your energy worrying about him. He’ll get over himself. His attitude is not your fault.” 

Roy’s words dispelled their guilt for a few days. But Jamie’s mood wasn’t getting any better, so their guilt returned tenfold. One day, in the middle of training, they made up their mind. They were going to talk to Jamie and figure out what was going on. Roy would kill them if he found out, probably because this was their stupidest idea to date. But they wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if they didn’t.

They knew Roy had a coaches meeting today, so they waited until he left them in his office. Once the coast was clear, they walked over to the edge of the desk. The office didn’t have much to help them get to the floor, much to their annoyance. So, they went back to their roots and headed to their old stash of supplies in the walls. Finding their old hook wasn’t difficult, and they made their way back to the edge of the desk.

“Phew, it’s been a while since I’ve had to do this,” they mumbled to themself. Digging their hook into the groove they previously made at the edge of the desk (they were grateful Roy still hadn’t noticed), it all came back to them. With practiced ease, they descended to the floor, gathered their hook, and jogged toward the door. 

It was closed, but they were small enough to squeeze underneath. They crawled under, with their hook getting stuck behind them. After yanking it free from the narrow opening, they looked at the locker room. It had been a while since they had seen the locker room from here. They had almost forgotten how looming it all was. A twinge of fear crept up their spine.

As fate would have it, Jamie was the only one present. He was standing in front of his locker, messing with something inside. They took a deep breath and started heading his way. Doubts crept into their mind, but they pushed the thoughts away, their resolve stronger than their fears. 

They had almost reached where he was standing when he suddenly turned away from his locker. With not a moment to lose, they scrambled out of the way as he stepped way too close for comfort. They felt the ground shake as his shoe landed a few feet away. Eyes wide, they stared up at Jamie, who was oblivious to what just happened. Penny in hand, he walked toward the laundry bin and tossed it in absently. 

Their heart was racing from the close call. They pressed themselves against the bench wall as he ambled back their way. Jamie promised he would never hurt them, but they guessed that only counted if he knew they were around. He sat down on the bench in the middle of the room and began untying his boots.

They took a moment to catch their breath and calm down. Their heart was still pounding, but they were directly in his line of sight now. There was no going back. “Jamie?” they called hesitantly. His eyes found theirs in an instant. 

“Oh, it’s you,” he said with a remorseful tone. “What’re you doing over there? Did you need something?” Jamie was being extra careful. He could see how their fingers tugged anxiously at their sweater. While they weren't as terrified as the first time they met, it was clear they were still nervous. 

“…” They debated telling him about the recent scare he just gave them, but deemed it counterproductive to their mission. Peeling themself away from the wall, they took a few steps closer. “I just wanted to know if—" they paused as Jamie leaned a little closer to hear them better.

Every instinct was telling them that they shouldn’t be here. But Jamie looked so concerned with what they had to say. So, they regrouped and continued. “I just wanted to know if I did anything to upset you or make you feel bad. I’m sorry if I did.” They noticed that Jamie’s face twisted into a confused expression. “It’s just… you’ve been acting strange since that day, and I feel like it’s my fault and I threw you off your game or something…”

Now he looked downright bewildered. “You’re... apologizing to me?” He asked. 

They nodded. “I thought you might think you hurt me or something… but I’m okay! I was just nervous. I didn’t mean to come across that way. I’ve just heard so much about you from the team and it was wrong for me to judge you so quickly. I wanted to apologize for that too.” They steadied themselves. They were getting worked up into a panic again. “Roy would kill me if he knew I was here but… yeah.”

Jamie didn’t know what to say. They were the last person he wanted an apology from. In his eyes, they hadn’t done anything wrong. Why were they apologizing for how they reacted? Were they so nervous that they thought they had to make amends for being scared? Now he felt even worse. “I don’t think I ever got your name,” he said softly. 

The question was out of the blue. “Y/n,” they responded.

“Listen, you don’t need to apologize to me for anything. How I’ve been feeling is… complicated. But none of it is your fault.” They watched as he stood up from where he had been sitting. They shuffled a few steps back, anxious. He loomed over them even more while standing, but thankfully he squatted down soon after. 

“I’ve been off because you made me think about myself. I’ve been trying to be… better,” he explained, but it was almost painful to watch him say it. “I don’t hate you, or anything like that, I’m just…” He looked like he stopped himself from going further. “It doesn’t matter, but don’t feel like anything is your fault, okay? I get it. I’ve been a dick in the past, and the team only wants the best for you.” 

They were nodding along, taking in what he had to say. “But, could we maybe be friends? At some point? Could I earn your trust?” Jamie asked hopefully. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell they were more than a little uneasy around him, no matter how much they tried to appear otherwise. 

They shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “At some point,” they said after some deliberation. A thought came to them and they smiled a little bit. “It would drive Roy crazy, though.”

Jamie shrugged. “I can live with that.” 

They found themselves opening up slightly. “So… we’ll take it slow?” They asked, just to be sure. 

“As long as it takes,” he assured. 

They nodded. “We’ll be friends… eventually.”

PHEW now that this is done, I can start on new ideas and scenarios and things :D I don't like the end but when do I ever lol.

[writethrough]

I've been waiting for this for so long ! Someone finally accepting Malcolm Bright fic requests ! I love this character so much for so many reasons. So, maybe you could do a Malcolm Bright x Reader or a Malcolm Bright x Original Female Character fic where reader / OC is either his girlfriend or best friend (whatever you decide ☺️) and she stays in at his loft for a few days to take care of him because he is homesick, and she comforts him when he has night terrors. He feels so loved and cherished and valued that he eventually tells her more about his intimate fears (he already told her about his disorders, Martin Whitly, the girl in the Box, Watkins, but he feared she will run away if she found out about his most obscure thoughts and fears because of so many past rejections) and then she reassures him and tells him that she loves him. - 😩 Eventually Malcolm opens up to her more and allows himself to show his vulnerability to her by crying on her shoulder while they hug. You get it. Just pure sweetness and care 🤍

Thanks ;) And please take care 🤍

So Be It

(Malcolm Bright x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Language (one little f-word), sick Malcolm, softboi Malcolm, pining

Word Count: 1849

A/N: Soft Malcolm makes my heart briefly melt from its icy chamber. Sweetness and fluff are my guilty pleasures if you couldn't tell from my other fics! I don't think I used pronouns in this so I'm marking it as gender-neutral—hope that's okay! I'd like as many people to enjoy it as possible. Thank you for the request! And for being patient as I work through my ask box. I hope you enjoy!

“Malcolm, I say this with love, but you are the bane of my existence,” you said after opening every cabinet in his kitchen. Stale crackers and tea bags. That was it.

You had barged into his apartment after he hadn’t responded to any of your texts this morning. You knew his schedule by heart, and no matter what, he texted you back before he left for work. When an hour had passed without you hearing from him, you used your spare key and waltzed right in to find him bundled up on the couch, nose red and tissues littering the coffee table.

He groaned. “I’ve been busy with cases.”

“So busy you couldn’t have groceries delivered?” You crossed your arms even though he couldn’t see you over the back of the couch.

“I forgot,” he whined. One thing you knew about Malcolm Bright: he got whiny when sick. You imagined if you weren't so in love with him, you'd find it annoying.

You huffed, picking up his phone from the coffee table and placing a grocery order.

“There. It’ll be here in an hour,” you said, gently lifting his head so it could rest in your lap.

“Doesn’t that cost more?” His eyes were closed, and a blanket was pulled up to his chin.

“I’m sorry, which one of us actually owns their apartment?”

He peaked up at you through one eye. “Touché.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, and he let out a sigh of contentment.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know.” His voice was raspy from his sore throat.

“I kind of do. If not to help you get better than to keep you here. I’m afraid if I take my eyes off you for too long, you’ll sneak off to work.” You smiled warmly. Sometimes you thought Malcolm loved his job a tad too much. But it was endearing nonetheless.

“I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. My head’s killing me,” he said, squinting up at you.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here if you need me,” you said.

—

An hour later, there was a knock at the door, and you silently cursed as Malcolm stirred.

“(Y/N)?”

“It’s okay. Just go back to sleep.”

You carefully shifted him off your lap and grabbed the bags from the deliverer. It wasn’t much, just the basics, honey, and soup ingredients. He hadn’t eaten anything since you arrived, so you put a slice of bread in the toaster as you finished putting away the stuff you didn't need for the soup.

“(Y/N)?” Malcolm stood on the opposite side of the island, eyes rimmed red. He looked like a kicked puppy.

Striding toward him, you placed a hand on his forehead.

“Go lay back down. You’re burning up and need your rest,” you said.

He only groaned and leaned his head onto your shoulder. God, you hated seeing him like this.

You rubbed up and down his blanket-covered arms. “C’mon, honey, why don’t you go lay in your bed, and I’ll bring you some toast.”

He mumbled an “okay” in your neck and shuffled toward his room.

A few minutes later, you brought him his food and more tea.

“Thank you,” he said, his big, wet eyes gazing at you.

You brushed a stray hair out of his face. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but his shoulders shook ever so often.

“Do you want me to get you a hoodie?” you asked, watching as he took a small bite.

“No. I’m too hot,” he mumbled.

“Okay, finish that, and I’m gonna get your next dose.”

You returned, and he’d laid the half-eaten toast on his nightstand and sipped at the tea.

“Here.”

You switched the mug for the medicine and placed the cup down to hand him the glass of water. After swallowing, he didn’t say a word as he shuffled underneath the blankets.

“Get some sleep. I’ll work on some soup for later,” you said, using your hands to push off the bed.

But one of his stopped you from beneath the sheets.

“Please stay,” he whispered.

Taking in his current state, you couldn’t help the throbbing in your chest and the overwhelming urge to hold him. You wanted to take all of his pain away and keep him from ever feeling like this again.

He tried not to rely on people. The fact that he was asking you to stay and not pushing you out told you how terrible he felt. You’d do anything he’d ask.

“Of course.”

You slipped under the covers facing him as his eyes closed. It didn’t matter if he’d fall asleep right away you’d stay right here just so he wouldn’t wake up alone. Just so he’d have some comfort.

You and Malcolm had met when you were children. It was after his father's arrest. He had isolated himself from the other kids at the park, and you couldn't have that. So, you marched right up to him and told him you would be his best friend, and that's been true ever since.

An hour or so had passed as you admired his relaxed features. It wasn't until you were both well into your twenties that you developed feelings for him. He had swung by to drop off a book he told you about and ended up staying for three hours—you had only seen him two days prior. Once he left, your mom came into the kitchen with this little smile on her face. You nearly spit out your drink when she asked when Malcolm would ask you on a date.

You laid in bed that night when it hit you. You liked Malcolm.

A whimper broke you from your thoughts.

Malcolm shifted, still asleep, and this time, a whispered "no" slipped through his lips.

You'd seen how bad his nightmares could get. You knew it was important you didn't startle him, but you weren't about to lay there and let him relive whatever horror he conjured.

Slowly, you wiggled closer to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Laying on your back, you brought his head onto your chest and smoothed his hair.

"Shh, it's okay. It's not real," you whispered.

As your fingers threaded through his hair, his whimpers slowly quieted, and he inhaled softly. It was a few moments before he spoke.

“Thank you,” he whispered, eyes still shut. He didn't need to pretend with you. And he was grateful for it. 

“For what?” You had told him he didn't need to thank you for this. The first night you witnessed his night-terrors, he wouldn't stop apologizing. He couldn't even look you in the eye. But you reassured him, even told him about the nightmare that haunted you. It was then you both promised one another that if you needed the other person, you'd call and be there—it didn't matter when.

“For taking care of me. For staying with me so I wouldn’t be alone. For…For making me feel like…like I’m worth being cared for.” He blinked, hoping you couldn’t hear in his voice that he was fighting tears.

You swallowed and moved until you were facing him.

“You are worth everything.” You made it a point to keep your eyes locked. “You never have to thank me for prioritizing you. You’re my…You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

You were walking a dangerous line. He had been a profiler for fuck’s sake. It was a miracle he hadn’t figured out you loved him already.

“It’s just…I know-I know you’re always here for me and will always be,” he sniffled, “I just can’t wrap my mind around why you’d want to stay. I keep,” he shakily inhaled, “I keep waiting for the day you leave and never come back.”

Your eyes were wide the entire time he spoke.

How could he think about all those things? No. You knew exactly why.

And it didn’t matter how long it took to prove to him otherwise—you’d do it—happily.

You cupped his cheek so he couldn't hide.

“I know you’ve been through so much, more than anyone should have to go through, but those things don’t scare me. They never have. You’re stuck with me, Malcolm. Even when you want me to leave you alone—especially when you want me to leave you alone. I’m gonna be here, no matter what. I promise.”

Tears were streaming down his face now, and he didn’t care. Not when you soothed his every insecurity. Not when you looked at him like he was important to you. Not when all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you and tell you how he’d fallen in love with you for those very reasons.

His arm wound around your back and slid you toward him. His head buried itself in your neck as he shook with a fresh wave of tears. You held him, running a steady hand up and down his back.

“I’m right here.” You placed soft kisses on whatever skin you could reach. “I promise. I’m right here.”

He quieted slowly, his body relaxing into yours as he was left sniffling, but he never let go of you. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this for the rest of his life. He wanted to feel your warmth. He wanted your hand on his back to become his new heartbeat. He wanted to never be without you.

He ever so carefully pulled away just enough to meet your searching gaze. And before he could say a word, you did.

“I love you.” It was the only thing that could settle his fears for sure. Even if it backfired, it’d be worth it to reassure him. He would believe you and know he was worth everything to you, and if you embarrassed yourself, so be it.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, the barest of smiles gracing his face.

You let out a breathy laugh, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. He loved you, too. He loved you, too.

Your best friend. The person you told everything to and the only one who seemed to understand you loved you.

“I’d kiss you, but I don’t want to get you sick,” he said, squeezing your fingers.

“I think that ship has sailed. We’re nearly on top of each other.” It didn’t matter if you got sick. You were too happy to care.

He smiled, the first one you saw all day.

“I want our first kiss to be special. And I can’t breathe too well right now. Pretty sure that would ruin it.”

“How about this then.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead, staying there a few seconds to try and push all the love you had into his skin.

You settled back, and his eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted. You weren’t sure if his flushed cheeks had darkened or not.

“I hope I get better soon.” He said upon opening his eyes. 

You giggled, pulling him back onto your chest. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Always.”

[clitorphosis]

OMGOMGOMOGOMG EVAAA HIIIII LOVE U SMMM <333

👻✏️🌈🏅

FOR THE RAINBOW ONE I JUST READ TOMB FOR TWO AND I WANNA KNOW WHAT INSPIRED THAT...

JJ I luv you more!!! <3 OMG I HOPE YOU ENJOYED TOMB FOR TWO!!!

👻: What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up? hunter Ada and deer reader, I have even started it two months ago? and…. it got ignored by my and I fear I won’t pick it up… 😓 but who knows

✏️ Do you write every day? No, but I wish 😓 sometimes it is hard to write cause my brain mixes all 4 languages and I can’t even understand what is going on LOL

🌈 What inspired you to write ‘Tomb For Two’? Omg…. A lot, I’ll try not to ramble much… first the idea was born cause an annoying person texted me and sent his music (it sucks) 😓 but Leon’s personality and thoughts are inspired by male musicians I knew; cheating, abuse of substances, being just asshole towards women, and in general losers lol. So… reader’s behavior is uninterested and not caring, maybe a little bit shitty towards him, cause he deserves that, lol. and coke on cock made me giggle cause of how similar they sound, like they belong together 🙂‍↕️

🥇What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc). this is a hard one, omg? I think trying something new (I am trying to write angst lol) and finally writing down ideas I had in my mind for a while 😓

THANK YOU JJ AND I AM SMOOCHING U HARD!!!! Take care of yourself <3