#no promises on how soon the fic will start releasing but it should be before the start of the next hg week

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[hargrove-mayfields]

New Hellcheergroveton Au ~~ Short Chapter Fic Coming Soon!

Premise: In a Post-Vecna world, Billy recently started using a cane to help with his developing mobility issues, while Steve, his boyfriend with partial vision loss, chronic migraines, and a TBI that affects his speech, has thought of a plan to help Billy feel more comfortable using it. That plan happens to involve Chrissy, who is blind, and Eddie, who is hard of hearing and uses mobility aids as well (a decked out, fully customized rollator or a wheelchair of the same punkness usually) to manage his fibromyalgia. Secretly they’re all definitely crushing on each other.

Small Preview of Chapter 1 below the cut:

His solution comes in the form of one Chrissy Cunningham.

Ever since she barely survived Vecna crumpling her like a paper ball, her vision never came back. They pinned together her bones and wired her jaw until it healed, but they can’t exactly get her new eyes that aren’t bloodshot and clouded milky-white. So she walks with a cane. It has a little round circle on the end to roll and feel more accurately where she’s going. She likes it better than the hard-ended tapping cane they gave her first.

And that’s a whole revelation.

A cane. Billy can use a cane.

He asks Eddie to arrange a ride for him, and the next day they’re at the pharmacy (thanks to Wayne. Billy loves that guy) buying him an adjustable, pretty cheap cane. There’s a choice between a harsh, eye-burning blue color that reminds him just a little too much of his old junked car, or a plain black one. It’s a pretty easy choice.

He’s just a little bummed that the one he gets is so… boring.

Billy’s second revelation comes in the form of Eddie Munson.

Why it didn’t come to him sooner, he isn’t sure. Eddie was literally there with him the day he got the damn cane. In his wheelchair. Totally decked out in patches and spikes and stickers.

Customized mobility aids. Billy didn’t even know that was a thing!

Well, obviously he did, but he didn’t think that was an option for him. Eddie Munson is so much cooler than him. They both went through hell, but only one of them had come out the other side passionately fighting against the systems that would make it impossible to pay for their meds and their aids were it not for the liability payouts they were owed by the assholes who made the monsters that tried to kill them. Billy admires the social reform shit Eddie gets up to in his free time, when the spoon drawer isn’t empty.

He calls it Cripple Punk. It’s a whole thing. Billy doesn’t like that word so much, but he likes Eddie a lot, and he likes what he stands for too. And honestly, he kinda likes the idea of having spikes on his cane like Eddie has on the back of his chair.

Just the idea makes Billy feel badass too and not so much like somebody’s old granny.

[solaireverie]

cl16 | are we out of the woods yet?

summary: [ charles leclerc x f!driver!reader — social media au / fic ] after you get into a rough crash, charles is faced with difficult decisions

request: can i get a female driver reader injury/crash angst with daniel, seb or charles pls love your fics!

warnings: crashes and injuries, general medical stuff, unspecified mentions of death (implied to be jules and hervé), open/unclear ending

author’s note: hihi lovely!! tysm for requesting <3 hope this is enough angst for you ;) also i have no clue how to write injuries soooooo just roll with it

5,891 likes

ynupdates y/n has been taken to the medical center following her crash in the #brazilgp. no further news has been released yet. we're all behind you, y/n! 🤞

view comments

user did anyone see if she was able to get out of the car by herself?

↪ user no, i think she had to be extracted by the medical crew 😬

user i hope she's okay...

Charles' phone is halfway out of his pocket when it starts ringing. Glancing at the screen, he swipes to accept the call when he sees that it's from your mother. He had called her a few minutes ago, when the sight of your crash had first appeared on the screens in the Ferrari paddock, but she hadn’t picked up. Her voice filters through the speakers of his phone, worry tinging her tone. 

“Do you have news yet?” she asks.

“Don’t know,” Charles replies, “I’m on my way to see her now. It… might be good to book a flight — and soon.” He doesn’t want to alarm your mom but it seems inevitable and he knows that you would want her next to you. 

“Okay,” she breathes shakily, “and Charles?”

“Yeah?”

“She better be okay when I get there.”

Charles winces. Of all the people in the world, he knows all too well why you can never make any promises, especially in Formula 1. 

“I’ll do my best,” he says and ends the call.

There’s a marshal waiting for him in the tiny waiting area in the medical center. He’s pacing nervously and immediately strides towards Charles as soon as he sees him. 

“Mr. Leclerc,” he begins, “the doctors wanted to see you before they take any further action. You have medical power of attorney for Ms. L/N in case of emergency, correct?” 

Charles nods numbly. It had been a precaution at the time because you had insisted that out of everyone in the paddock, you trusted him the most. He had accepted it without thinking twice but now the weight of the responsibility settles heavily over his shoulders. He follows the marshal past empty treatment rooms until they reach one with its door thrown open. 

Charles feels his lunch crawling back up his throat as he stares at your figure. You’re laid out on a stretcher and you’d almost look peaceful if not for the numerous medical apparatuses connected to you and the thin trickle of dried blood on your temple. He somehow finds his voice again.

“What happened?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

A paramedic steps forward. “Ms. L/N took quite a knock in her crash, I’m afraid,” she explains gently. “Something came loose in the cockpit and hit her head. We’re not sure if there’s any further internal injuries, but our professional opinion is that she should be moved as soon as possible to a hospital for further testing.”

Charles swallows around a lump in his throat. “Is there any particular risk with transporting her in this state?” 

The paramedic shakes her head. “No more than the usual, which is relatively low compared to the risk that we run by keeping her here without knowing if there’s anything else wrong.” 

Charles follows your ambulance all the way into the hospital in a haze. He barely registers the press grouped outside the entrance, pushing through them, always keeping you in his sights. He waits outside of the examination room they bring you into and follows as they wheel you around, receiving god knows how many tests. 

After a while members of your team start showing up, although they keep a respectful distance from Charles. He’s glad. He knows, rationally, that you were just unlucky, but the irrational and protective side of him is screaming at him to place the blame at someone’s feet. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up at your team, though, so he doesn’t say anything to them and keeps vigil by your side as the doctors poke and prod.

Eventually you’re carefully placed in a hospital bed and Charles is pulled aside by what seems to be the main doctor assigned to you.

“Unfortunately, it seems as if we will have to operate on Ms. L/N,” he says gently. “Someone else will go over the details with you, but long story short she’s bleeding internally and it’s imperative that we get to it as soon as possible. Of course, any operation of this size could potentially be dangerous, but I strongly recommend taking action sooner rather than later.”

Charles shakes his head, the words not yet registering in his scattered mind. “Is she going to be okay?” he mumbles, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.

He can feel the doctor’s pitying gaze on him and Charles doesn’t have it in him to tell him that he’s been here before — not this specific hospital, no, but he’s been on this side of the conversation that they’re having already, and it tears his heart up just as much as the first time. The only difference this time is that he’s the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else.

“We can’t make any guarantees,” the doctor cautions, “but it would significantly raise her chances of survival if we act now.”

Charles winces at the doctor’s words. Survival. Drive to survive, surviving to drive, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. He uncurls his fingers gingerly from where he had been unconsciously gripping his pants. 

He wants to avoid the decisions he knows he will have to make in the next twenty-four hours. He wants to pretend that nothing happened, that you’re still on the track, passing everyone in your way. He wants to go back to this morning, when he had kissed you goodbye before jogging off to get ready for the race. He wishes he had taken time to do more than peck you and throw a “love you!” over his shoulder. Charles wants to hide from the cold, stark reality he’s faced with. Your life lies in his hands and Charles is so, so tired of bleak hospital hallways.

He wants to scream at the heavens. He’s suffered and given so much already. Is one shred of happiness too much to ask? Charles had known the risks going in when he started dating you — one Formula 1 driver was usually more than enough jeopardy in a relationship, let alone two — but he’d never really thought that the day would arrive where he would have to make decisions about you, without you. 

Charles stares at your face through the window to your room, tracing the curves and slopes with his eyes. It’s the face he wakes up next to almost every day and he curses himself for not cherishing the time he’s already had with you more. His brain is moving a mile a minute, running through all the possible outcomes. At the end of the day, though, he’s only got one choice.

Charles Leclerc has always been selfish and he’ll be damned if he lets another person he loves slip through his fingers.

“Where do I sign?”

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora

[staybabblingbaby]

Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: 2672

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.

Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon!)

The meeting goes something like this;

They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.

The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.

Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.

Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.

The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order.  

“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”

A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.

Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.

“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”

“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile. 

“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.” 

Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.

Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.

It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.

It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.

Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.

No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.

Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.

He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.

He has to hear them out, at least.

“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires. 

Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words. 

“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”

Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her. 

He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?

Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.

“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.

It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words. 

“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,” Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”

And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.

Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.

Because they love him.

He loves them right back.

“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.

It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye. 

Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.

Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.

Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.

Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.

It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words. 

Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.

Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.

But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.

They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.

“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.

Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”

“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.

“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.

A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is. 

Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.

It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.

He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.

He doesn’t think he could handle that.

It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.

That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.

Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.

Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.

It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-

“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with six confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.

“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.

His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.

“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.” 

“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.

He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.

“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”

“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”

“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”

“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”

“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”

“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”

Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”

Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.

“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”

All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.

“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”

Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”

His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.

“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.

“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”

This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”

Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.

Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond. 

“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.” 

Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”

He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all. 

Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.

“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.

Worm List <3 :

@thatgirlangelb , @hyeon-yi, @velvetmoonlght, @missvanjiii, @hanniemylovelyquokka, @vegetablesarefuntables, @scribblesnsketches05, @kkamismom12, @alexateurmom, @baribaaari, @tayla2351, @heart-trees, @unicornwhisperer666, @aalexyuuuhm, @stilldontknowhoiam, @brbwritingfanfic, @kaciebello, @ririzisblu

Perma Tag List <3 : @mbioooo0000

[selfishdoll]

❛ HIS FAVORITE FAN...❜

You're my four-leaf clover | I'm so in love, so in love ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ♡ JAPANESE DENIM.

ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 SUMMARY.

hcs of pro gamer! gojo satoru & his favorite fan, you.

ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING.

ooc gojo, cocky gojo (ofc) mature themes in some of them, him being a little shit, fluff, geto & shoko mention, etc.

ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 NOTE.

will make an actual fic later. these are messy, sorry for that </3

pro gamer! gojo wasn’t someone you got along with at first. he was cocky, arrogant, and didn’t like following the rules. over extending when playing with his teammates, you just hated watching him play. you remember commenting something on a stream of his, the man eager to go back and forth with you for a while before you decided to leave the stream all together. yet, instead of letting that drop you suddenly received a message on your social media.

“didn’t have anything else to say?” was what it read, a shit-eating grin emoji placed beside it. and well, the rest was history. how you got swept into his arms was beyond you, really.

pro gamer! gojo who has a picture of you as his desktop wallpaper. but not just any picture, a pin up of you in a bikini. he saw a fellow gamer with one and practically begged you to do it, declaring he would pay for it. everything. your hair, bikini, the photographer. all you had to do was bring your pretty ass there, (he proclaimed). after some playful reluctance you gave in, the man basically buzzing with anticipation waiting for the pictures. the moment gojo received them he was uploading it as his wallpaper, cropping it perfectly so your plump ass rested just below his favorite game.

the man has, accidentally clicked off a game to his desktop when on stream, declaring he had to check something. really, it was a message to anyone interested in him or you.

pro gamer! gojo who encourages you to come with him when traveling for events. promising to spend some time with you personally and that he just needs his lucky charm there. most times you’re able to take off work in time, others you aren’t— leaving the poor man upset. satoru will still go to the event, but his heart is definitely not in it; pouting like a child. you’ve gotten messages from geto, complaining about his behavior and making you promise to come to the next one.

pro gamer! gojo who is so good at multitasking it should be a crime. who’s able to have you on his cock, crying and being stuffed full; all while clutching his matches. face cam off, switching his mic on and off between your gasps and moans, rising his hips to adjust in his seat— grinning at the way you nearly toppled into his chest. pressing you against his desk when the match gets intense, shushing you softly when you whined.

finally after the match is done he’s releasing his controller, hands falling to your waist and bouncing you up and down his length. with the cockiest grin ever he’ll say; “you’ll have to hurry and come, baby— the game’s starting soon.” yet will slow you down, just to watch the frustrated tears build in your eyes, and the dreaded sound of the game starting again. so quick to release you, attention turning back to the game as if nothing happened. the cycle continues for so long you swear you’ll break, face pushed into his neck as soft gasps escaped you.

the torture would finally end when the last match of the game is finished, gojo tossing his headphones off his hair, grabbing your hips whilst standing. he would waste no time in turning around, heading towards the bed to drill you into the mattress. satoru just loves the way you beg and beg for a release, all while pretty tears trickle down your face and the gold plated anklet of his name jingles right beside his ear. yeah, he’s coming in minutes, stuffing you so not a drop escapes.

there have been a few times gojo has tossed his headphones a little too hard, rendering geto’s and shoko’s poor ears to your activities. the pair now know to click off the call quickly when they know you’re home.

pro gamer! gojo who feels his heart swell when he sees you at his tournaments in the front and wearing a shirt with his name. it’s cheesy, he would tell you, earning a playful slap on his shoulder. yet satoru loves it, happy you’re there to cheer him on. definitely try hards just to hear you praise and scream for him.

pro gamer! gojo who is pretty cold with his female fans. he’s nice, sure, but with every conversation he’s somehow bringing you up. “oh, my girlfriend likes that color..” “yeah, my girlfriend loves that band.” “no, my girlfriend wouldn’t like that.” constantly reminds them he’s taken and happy. doesn’t entertain anyone that flirts.

pro gamer! gojo who teaches you how to play, mostly fighting games and will be a sore loser if you somehow beat him. the type to bump into your shoulder, smack your controller out of your hand, or even tickle you. also will definitely ask for a rematch, claiming he wasn’t ready (he was).

pro gamer! gojo who will drop a stream just for you, doesn’t matter how little the request is. doesn’t care who’s annoyed by it. you’re priority to him.

pro gamer! gojo who has threatened to fuck you on stream before. maybe you’re waving at his face cam and talking too sweetly to his fans, maybe you’re walking in the camera in your cute little shorts, or maybe you’re just breathing around him. gojo is quick to snake an arm around your waist, pull you close, and whisper the threat right into your ear— all while smiling innocently. it takes everything in you not to challenge him, as gojo satoru, never backs down from a challenge.

pro gamer! gojo who has his issues, but loves you dearly, much more than any video game.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi! If you're still taking requests I'd love request a drabble about the moment when Konig and Reader first noticed each other and what they thought/felt during that moment based on your "Just Friends" fic.

Btw I love your work and oh my god, it's perfection, absolutely amazing. Super excited to read chapter 3&4 (no rush take your time!!)

Thabj you!!!

Even Demons are Lonely

Wordcount: 3.8 k

Summary: König sees reader for the first time. Soon, the promise to never touch someone as lovely as her turns into a vow to never leave her side.

Tags/warnings: F!Reader, König POV, Just Friends universe. Angst, twisted & fluffy feelings, pining, obsessive behavior, stalking, panty stealing, mentions of past trauma, abuse and patricide, yandere!König falling in love (=being delusional). Mild sexual and violent themes. 

A/N: I did take my time with this one... 🩷 And it's only König POV, but I hope you enjoy! 💋

"Abashed the Devil stood, and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely – saw, and pined His loss..."

– John Milton, Paradise Lost

Purgatory.

That's the word that stuck to him when he was learning English at school, simply because it was an accurate definition of how he felt.

Adults used to say there is heaven and hell, and then this world, the world of humans, somewhere in between. They said he would go to heaven after he died and that bad people would go to hell.

They were all liars because hell already existed here on Earth. He had lived there ever since he was born.

The first memories of the cutting are shallow and pale, like they happened to some other boy. With every hit and cut and every cry, the sounds turned muddy until he was mute too, until all he could hear was mother's crying and Papa's roaring. The old man always got more mad when people cried and cowered. 

That's when he knew he would someday do something about bad people, that crying and cowering and begging wasn't going to help. It was the birth hour of hope and heaven. He dreamed of killing his father, killing his "friends", killing everyone who looked at him like he was a freak. 

He soon learned that this was not what people associated with heaven at all. He learned that there was a word for people like him, for phantoms who were morbidly interested in death and decay.

Ghoul.

A grave robber and a corpse feaster he was not, but neither was he going to pretend that some people didn't deserve to be gutted. If being normal meant he should just play along and pretend that there was justice in this world, then he was happy to be morbid. A little ghoul boy who grew up in hell, who dreamed of heaven, who slipped behind the thin veil between the worlds when he was four, who learned how to make the knives dance while everyone around him suffered.

He learned to cry and beg before he learned to speak, but when the words finally started to make sense to him, he had no use for them. No one wanted to talk to him, so he settled to observe. Life was a film reel running by, and words were useless when all he wanted to do was roar. There was a growing, gaping maw inside him, shrieking and spitting blood while he was without a voice.

It took a while to make Papa cry and beg. But he begged, eventually. In his last words, he tried to hide behind a woman’s skirt. 

"Don't do this to your mother," was a plea that didn't ignite mercy: it drove him off the ledge. Looking at the horrible excuse for a man squirming at his feet made him realize he should've released his mother from this demon years ago. He was too weak, and he vowed to himself, to the whole world, that he would never be weak again.

………………

Sometimes, a glimpse of true heaven can be seen on a clear summer's day when the sun shines, when bees are buzzing and a beautiful voice sings a love song on the radio. Beautiful, peaceful things only add to his suffering. They are simply evidence gathered – examples of everything he will never have. 

The air clots inside his mask with a brew of old sweat and acrid gunpowder. It's usually enriched by a hot desert wind or the stench of dust and emissions, a city's rotten core. It would feel odd to be met with a fresh breeze or the smell of rust and smoke than have them dampened by the baggy mask. He's certain that it would only be painful to feel the full brunt of the world on his naked face again. His enemies can't see him when he kills them, so they can't haunt him either.

He is the only ghoul here. He is the one who haunts.

He's learned to let love and peace go. He came here to reap; that's his job. Ghouls cannot love or be loved. They are supposed to get rid of the plague, do what normal people can't do, what good people deem hideous and wrong.

People have always been alien to him: they both know something he cannot seem to decode and are unaware of the constant presence of the Maw. He has to feed it in order to not be swallowed by it himself. It helps with the constant yelling for a while. 

His father was the first demon to be punished, but he has learned that all demons are liars when they beg. They don't know what real hell is like. That's why he didn't give mercy to his father, and that's why he doesn't give mercy to them, either. It's not hell, it's not heaven, so he must be in a limbo state in between. 

That's why he calls this place purgatory. 

………………

He sees a woman under the sun one day.

The sheer sight of her sitting there on her little blanket spread over the grass, dressed in a pure white dress is like a torturing dream from above. It stops him in his tracks like there is suddenly an invisible wall in front of him, forcing him to halt.

His heart is pounding, but that's not new. His heart is always tight and racing, and that's why it's better to have a heavy gun in his hands than hold onto nothing at all; it's better to do something than do nothing at all. The only thing that calms the endless roil inside him is work; when there's no work, it helps to go outdoors, somewhere between the shadows between thick trees.

Trees are better than people...

But they're not better than a woman like her.

He knows his mind plays tricks sometimes with females. That is why at first he thinks that the creature before him is not from this world either. How could someone like her even end up here? There are few ladies in the base, and none of them have picnics; none of them look like angels.

She looks up at the sky, at the single cloud drifting across the cerulean blue that hurts his eyes. Sun shines on her exposed throat, her stare is dreamy as she basks in the warmth and raises an apple to her lips. 

He stops breathing as she takes a bite, fearing it might stain the beautiful white dress from how juicy it is. The runaway apple juice drips down her chin, but she catches it with her finger, then sweeps the sweet taste of it back into her mouth. 

Her lips hug the finger gently as she savors the treat, and his breath returns to him, heavy and with a pang, like someone just punched him between the lungs.

She can't be human... 

He wonders if she's even real. 

He's hungry, but the need to devour this woman turns into a need to worship her before he can even decipher what is happening to him. He would grovel at her feet if that's what it took to get her to feed him some of that fruit. His mind goes numb from the need to march there and hug her. Just hold her, so close that he forgets what it is to breathe.

He knows she would only scream, and it's good he's been walking in the shade. It's good that she can't see him unless she turns her head. Because she must be an angel, and angels have no business with ghouls. 

He should go and leave her be... Mortals he can want, humans he can torture, but a celestial being he could never touch. The wind carries a whiff of apple juice to his nose; it overrides the stench of sweat and gun oil and smoke. 

And then the angel turns her head. 

It's Judgment Day, but she doesn't condemn him. She blinks a few times, lashes fluttering like he's another sun, the dreaded black sun, and she can't bear to look directly at him. But there's no disgust, no uneasiness, there's no fear. There's only shyness and the smallest smile. 

The pain inside his gut turns into a brutal stab, pure suffering. He hasn't hoped for anything for a long, long time. Now hope bleeds into his stomach with golden tingles, like those rays of sun that caress her skin.

He thought good things would feel… well, good, but to his horror, they feel painful too. She's painfully sweet. Even the demon inside him falls silent, the only demon he cannot destroy. It's finally quiet, as it should be. Everything in him bows to this greater power of Her. 

But she can't be real... His mind is sick and has finally conjured up the most beautiful thing he can never, ever have. He's been called a freak, he's been called a dumb ugly giant, he's been called so many things, but he's not stupid enough to think that the creature hugged by the golden aura of light is meant for him. 

So he squares his shoulders and pushes through the invisible wall, back behind the veil, back to where he belongs, and leaves the heavenly apparition in the sun.

………………

The next time he sees her is after a mission and inside the base. 

He brings mud and blood inside after a few rainy days spent in the mountains. He's so soaked that not even the 3-hour flight managed to dry all the dirt. She's waiting for him, or that's how it feels like when she gives him a small, relieved smile and starts to clean the mess he and every other operator leave behind.

His angel is not only a celestial visage but a cleaner.

She keeps the building that houses people who destroy life, clean. She scrubs the filth killers like him bring inside the cold, dead compound built on what used to be a forest full of birds, life, and wind through the trees. 

No one thanks this girl as she humbly dusts a table or mops the floor. No one understands that she's a saint for coming to the purgatory and making it a more decent place for the demons and ghouls to live. And she's relieved every time he comes back unharmed. She's happy to see he's alive. There's someone waiting for him. And not just someone, not just anyone, but an angel.

It's unbelievable how no one has claimed her yet. She has no one to keep her safe, and it makes his hands twitch. If he was her protector, she would never have to work again.

She's not like the rest of them: she doesn't turn her gaze away when he flicks a knife out. She likes to watch him make them dance. It's a ritual that makes him invincible on the battlefield. He used to do it every morning before school to stay safe – there were no angels back then to keep him alive.

He almost stops the first time he sees her watching how he goes through the rite. 

No, look away, little angel... You're not supposed to see this; this is a death dance, it's filthy, demonic magic.

But she's not afraid of his blades or the way he weaves his spell of protection. The girl follows his moves entranced. Her eyes shine, and he nearly drops the blade – he hasn't dropped a knife since he was ten – because there's hunger in her stare. Not as fathomless as his, but deep enough for him to recognize it. 

His angel is lonely and trapped too. 

He completes the dance, returns the knife to his pocket, and looks back, straight back.

She doesn't look away. She doesn't wince or lean back, no: she leans forward, and he can see it, the way her pulse flutters on her neck, the way her mouth opens even more, how a tiny pink tongue sweeps across her lips as she looks back into the jaws of damnation. It takes him a while to realize his angel must be wet, just from seeing how good he is with a knife. The notion doesn't only make his cock jolt; it throws him headfirst into the abyss. 

You'll never get rid of me now, the demon growls before he can choke him silent.

Her wet eyes, her wet, promising lips belong in a realm of madness. She's not filthy; his angel could never be filthy. But she's seducing him, which means she might seduce other men too. 

Has someone claimed her already…? 

What if she has a lover? Do they make her legs shake, do they make her mew?

Who does he have to kill?

………………

He breaks into her room that night. 

He only meant to stand watch and see if someone creeps to her in the cover of darkness. He thinks about different ways to kill her lover as he waits near her door. Should he just strangle them when they enter her room? Make her an offering, let her know she could have a far more powerful male if she wants?

No, he must use a knife... She will get wet if he uses a knife.

But no one appears: he is the only shadow in the dark hall, and after midnight, he decides to take a look at his innocent, sleeping angel. Just one look.

Her domain is full of softness, and he has to take a few deep breaths before he continues. Her world is so different from his that he nearly turns back and closes the door to paradise. But then her breathing calls to him, causing him to take a few steps. She sleeps with her window open, likes to listen to the sound of night birds before she falls asleep – just like he does…

The demon is awake in an instant and grabs him by the throat. 

No. 

Don’t look. If you look, she will steal your soul.

He freezes before he reaches her bed. His gaze sweeps her room instead, and the demon pants at the sight. Her dresses are laid out on a clothing rack: they salute him like a row of colorful flowers. Flowing and singing like a river, they hit him with a breeze made of life and all things good. 

She has a little armchair filled with cushions, and there's more softness and beauty everywhere he looks; he can see it even in the darkness of the night. Her delicate perfume that follows him as he follows her around the base lingers in the air and mixes with the distant birdsong and moonlight that shift the curtains in her room.

There's art on her walls, lively houseplants on the window sill, she has collected a cavalcade of cute little things on top of her drawer: nail polish and sea shells and beeswax candles and a piece of driftwood, a bottle of that perfume she uses, decorative lights above it all, placed around a small mirror. 

He wants all of that. 

He wants light and living things and greenery – he never had plants at home – he wants softness and cute little items, he wants to listen if the seashell still roars with the crashing waves were he to bring it to his ear. His mama always told him seashells remember the ocean because it used to be their home…

He wants her to light a honeyed candle and give him a bite of that apple, catch the juice as it runs down his scarred chin, or better yet, kiss it away before it falls. He wants to taste what's between her thighs. She must taste like honey and heaven.

One of the drawers is open, and from it, a torrent of cute little underthings is spilling out; they almost cascade on the floor. In different colors, too, and his hand reaches out and takes one before he can even think. He steals it like it's candy, then turns around with a stiff back and shoulders heavy from the sin he just committed.

He's about to go to the door, but her soft breathing calls him back. He tries to calm the demon - the girl can't steal anything: there's nothing left to steal. He has no soul, so he doesn't have to fear her either. 

Taking a few steps, he takes the peek he shouldn't take because it will only prolong his sentence in purgatory. Little does the demon know that he would suffer eternally for one little glimpse… 

She's not cocooned inside her blanket as he thought she would be. He thought he would find her coiled into a fetal position, curled into safety, but instead, she's sleeping on her back, arms spread next to her face, looking like she just fell from heaven and is feeling a little dizzy from the fall. She's calm and innocent as the moonlight brushes her cheek, her face free from all worry.

Why is she so cute, why is she so sweet? 

She has no right. She should be up in heaven.

He almost crawls on top of her right then and there, because blinding want is nothing compared to this. He wants to breathe her, breathe with her, hold her gently, and have her smile at him when she wakes up. He doesn't want to ruin her… He just wants a taste, see if an angel would like to have a demon worship her. If his worship would mean anything, if it had any power to persuade her to like him... 

He would never kneel before anyone, but he would kneel before her. In spirit, he is on his knees, and the only thing that makes him suffer is the fear that she might not want him, a ruined temple haunted by old, hateful spirits.

The madness was right. Apparently, there was a soul to steal, a tiny broken mosaic piece left, for the angel has it now. She owns what's left of him, the haunted temple is hers if she would ever want to come visit. He would restrain all those monsters so that she can walk freely and explore all the things buried under the rubble.

Her underwear burns his palm like a flower on fire. He only then realizes that there are no actual flowers in her room. He wonders if she would give him a kiss if he were to bring her one. Or two. Or an entire bouquet…

The demon inside cuts him with a searing blade – stupid idiot – she doesn't want to kiss your mauled face or love your ghouls. There's no treasure hidden inside that filthy rubble, there's only shit and blood and festering vomit. Better to just take her right now, see how tight she is, how wide her eyes go when a proper man comes to assert his will and authority. The demon tells him to at least ruin that cute thing in his hand and throw it on the table. Imagine her shocked little face when she wakes up…

Tears brim, and the maw of hell laughs with a roar of raging fire. He forces both down with a swallow and a wrench that shuts his heart.

There's no way she would ever let a man like him inside her. He's a sickness; no, he's an entire plague. He could try to make love to her, and she would only cry and bleed to death.

The smooth place between her brows gains a wrinkle as if she can hear his thoughts but doesn't agree with them. A little whimper escapes her nose, her head nods on the pillow; it looks like an attempt to hide while you're tied and cannot move. 

Pretty angel is having a nightmare, and it's no wonder. Of course she can sense she's being visited by a monster. 

He turns to leave, and notices another colorful thing on the floor: her underwear, and not clean. She's slipped out of it before bed: his angel is naked under that blanket. His angel sleeps naked…

He wonders if she has touched herself before sleep. Not with feverish, stern hands, like he does, but softly, under that blanket, with her features melting into pleasure as she comes with sighs and a series of desperate little whimpers. 

His blood turns to hellfire as he drops the underwear he's holding. It falls right next to the intoxicating thing he picks up instead. Taking a deep inhale, he can finally smell her. Not just her perfume, but her. She smells of an angel and a woman, raw, perfect woman, and he knows he's lost. This is worse than any dream or demon; this is worse than anything ever before. There's no going back now. 

Her scent calls to him, those hands frame her face in a gesture of surrender. She smiled at him on that day under the sun, and she smiled at him today.

What if he's spent enough time in hell? What if it's possible to have a taste of heaven?

He can't help but wonder if his angel wants this too... 

“Engel,” he whispers into the night.

It takes only a second before she whimpers again. It's an answer, it's a yes, and his heart is full of tiny needles; they pinch him with terrible love and hope. The wrinkle has smoothed out, and his angel is smiling very, very softly. 

She's calling for him. How could he refuse?

His angel is full of light as he makes his decision. He whispers his apology, only in his mind and only in German, trusting that angels must know every language in the world. He asks for her forgiveness for all the things he's about to do to her. Then he promises he will come for her, that she doesn't need to worry: she has a guardian now and always will. She will be forever safe with him by her side. He will drive even her nightmares away.

Then he returns to his room so different from hers, returns to the realm of death and worships the thing he just stole, spraying it with hot, white love - the only thing inside him that can be called pure, the color of angels. It's only a matter of time before he gets to worship her in the flesh, unite with her, the soul who forgave his sins and slipped him the key to heaven.

[therealplaguedoctor]

A Stupid Bet

Esteban Ocon x driver!reader

Summary/prolong (idek anymore)- You made a stupid bet with Esteban, well he asked you to agree to it and you did. Little did you know how soon after that promise the conditions would be meet and everyone will know....

Warnings/content- fem reader, no use of y/n, 2nd person (you/your), Esteban in alpine, talks about media being kinda(?) sexist only for a sec tho, doubts about your position again only for a sec, lmk if i missed anything

Non serious warnings: reader has no nationality mentioned (actually surprising for me lol), author is a dumbass and pretends she knows shit(she doesnt), American spelling, I never spell check. Idk what a kilometer is,

F/c- n/a

A/n- woke up in a cold sweat wrote down this fic idea and asked my friends who it should be on. First person (and only one) to respond wanted Estie bestie so this is for you, you know who you are lol love youuu

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

A stupid bet. It all happened cause of a stupid bet.

It was just before COTA you and Esteban where both on his couch watching a random movie that neither of you cared to much for.

"Amour" Esteban says softly as he looked over to you something slightly unveiling in his eyes...mischief...?

"Yeah..?" You answered a little worried about what he might say

"You wanna make a bet?" He smiled definitely mischief in his eyes

You smiled "depends what's the bet?"

"If we're both on the podium in one of the remaining races can I kiss you on it?" He asked with a slightly begging tone

You and Esteban had been dating for slightly over a year now. Somehow being able to keep your relationship under wraps. You haven't talked to much about making your relationship public. There has been some talk when you started dating of course an there was the whole discussion you had to have with Alpine about your relationship. And so so many NDAs people had to sign. It was insane.

"You know that will never happen estie" you chuckled

"Hey a man can dream" he smiled "..so if it does can we?" He asks again

"Of course" you smiled as you pushed him down on the couch in a hug laughing

He laughed as well kissing your forehead "I love you mon amour"

"I love you too Esteban"

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

It was the brazil gp and it was hell.

"Okay one lap left, one lap left" you heard your race engineer buzzed in your ear. You wanted to yell at him to shut up as you drove. You were sweating bullets. You were currently in p3, Esteban was p2. This would mean monumental points for the team if you crossed the finish line like this. Which is proving more difficult with the current track conditions yet-

"That is the checkered flag, p3 that is p3. Congratulations"

"WOOOOO OH MY FUCKING GOD"

"You and Esteban are one podium great job, great job" you could here the cheers in the background as your race engineer talked your smile grew wider with each cheer.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You slowly pulled up to the p3 plaq and parked the car. You slowly climbed out standing on the halo you cheered doing your celebration. Before jumping down and running over and jumping into your team. You almost get swallowed by your team so many hands, cameras, flashes, you eventually get released by your team.

You turn to see Esteban you quickly hug eachother helmets bumping before you pushed eachother to arms length to look eachother in the eyes. Both of you held the other shoulders while you couldn't see his mouth you could see the scrunching of his eyes, and he could see yours. Both your jaws will definitely be hurting from smiling so much.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You both were walking into the cool down room the atmosphere was buzzing. Esteban leaned over and asked in a quiet voice "you remember our bet?" He asked

"How could I forget?" Is all you respond with a smile still plastered on your face.

The cool down room felt like hours as you Estie and Max chatted it was smiles all around.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The Dutch nation anthem rang out before the trophies where handed out you held yous up high before placing down softly with a satisfying clunk. And before you knew it the celebration music rang out as you all popped your champaign and drenched eachother.

You wiped the fizzling liquid from your eyes and face before taking a swig of the liquid as it satisfyingly fizzled down your throat. You look over to Esteban who had just appeared at your side you both smiled.

Esteban and you clicked the large bottles together both taking another swig.

Just then he pulls you into him, hand gentle but firm. With that he kisses you and of course you kiss back. I mean who would you be if you don't kiss your own boyfriend back? His hand rested on the back of you neck, and you hands were lazily thrown over his shoulders.

Your heart rate spiked as yet the world seem to slow the loud cheers of the crowd lulled into nothingness it was just you and Esteban for a moment. As you shared a gentle and passionate kiss.

That was until you felt something cold wet and undeniably champagne. The kiss broke so both you and Esteban didn't drown in the sweet liquid both looking over to the source:

Max fucking Verstappen with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

You smiled and so did Esteban, you three laughed as you held the champagne up high cheering the world.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You really didn't want to go to the media pen.

I mean you and Esteban didn't think the bet entirely through. What would the media response be? Will all your accomplishments be given to your boyfriend?

You have gotten your phone a while ago but you didn't bother to even turn it on scared of what the media would say.

But why should you be scared? You and Esteban have been dating for a year. Wayyyyy after you joined formula one. And you loved eachother and the media could not change that.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You finally entered the media pen just to be met with a loud cheers. Esteban quickly took notice to you as he was standing just by where you entered he quickly motioned you over to do the interview with him.

"There's my beautiful girlfriend" he smiles which you swear is bigger than when he won his first grand prix "hello mon amour"

"Hi estie" you smiled

Quickly though the interviewer got to work: "Hello to both of you" he said "well first I should say congrats, and of course I'm assuming this relationship isn't new..?"

You spoke first "no me and Estie have been together for a year actually back in Singapore" Esteban just smiled and nodded.

"And of course we can speculate all we want but I'm sure many people want to know did you decide to do this before hand or was this spur of the moment?" The interviewer asked

"Well it as actually a bet" Esteban said

"A stupid bet" you added

He playfully rolled his eyes "I asked her before COTA that if we both got on the podium in one of the remaining races if I could kiss her on it" he explained

"And of course I agreed" you smiled

The interview concluded and you were surprised no one made any negative comments about your relationship.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You both arrive back at your shared hotel room (which Alpine was happy about because they only had to pay for one room). You finally take out your phone unlock it ready to see all the hateful messages only to see none.

You smiled as you looked though them:

User: I mean have you seen how Esteban looks at her how did we not figure it out sooner????

User: I want what they have

User: THE MADE THAT BET IN AN APLINE BRO JCKSNJDKS BOTH OF EM JXNOSKA

User: can we point out the fact that the kiss made basically ALL the media not pay any attention to the Max master class? I think that's hilarious as a Max fan

User: No cause the photo of Max spraying them with champagne as they kissed is so cute imma cry

User: mama y papa

User: I will never understand how Esteban pulled HER

User: Esteban is stronger than me cause if I had her as a gf she would be ALL OVER my social media

User: she called Esteban estie and he called her mon amour if you need me I'll be crying THEIR SO CUTEEE

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You laughed as you read the tweets. You've never been happier.

Esteban comes back into the room freshly showered, "what are you looking at mon amour?" He asked

"Just twitter" you said as you show him you screen "everyone loves us"

"I mean what isn't there to love about you?" Estie said

"Smooth" you smiled "is that what you say to all the girls"

"Only the ones I'll marry some day" He says with the biggest grin

"I love you Estie" you smiled as you leaned over and kiss his cheek

"I love you more" he said back kissing you in return

"Impossible"

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

A/n: OMFG I LOVE THIS I HOPE YALL DO IK IT WAS A BIT SCUFFED WTV PLEASE LIKE REBLOG OR WHATEVER YOU WANT THEY ARE VERY APPRECIATED IDK WHY IM STILL YELLING LOVE YALLLLLL

[chuuyasheaven]

Day 8 with Tecchou and afab reader maybe? 😳

“—As you recall, you know I love to show off..” — Flashing lights by Kanye West !!

Tags: Tetchou Suehiro / afab! Reader, original! au, dom!Tetchou, sub!Reader, foreplay (eatin’ out), passionate but rough sex, overstim, praising kink, pet names, might contain grammar errors, ooc!, lazy, etc.

Notes: I’ve never written for Tetchou before, but GOOD LORD IS HE FINE. MIGHT BE A LITTLE PROJECTED ON ME BUT OTHERWISE ENJOY!!

Man, you have no idea how lucky you are..

I mean, you’re having a relationship with THE Tetchou Suehiro, one of the strongest hunting dogs. But from his view, he was the lucky one. You were way too perfect for him. And of course, he’ll make sure you know how much he loves you.

It was pretty easy actually, as a hunting dog you probably make an hell amount of money, and Tetchou’s not afraid to spoil you with it. Even without it, he will kiss you, hug you and show lots of affection towards you! As if he was showing you off to everyone.

Not to mention, there’s other ways he can make you ‘feel good’..

“Fuck, right t-there, Tetchou!..”, you choked as you felt his tongue drag over your folds, getting to taste your ‘desperation’.

“Here?”, Tetchou asked you after he licked that spot again, you just nodded. He smirked and went down on you again, and you kept on playing his favorite tune, your moans and whimpers.

Tetchou was leaving time for you and your pleasure, wanting you to know that he worships any body part of yours. As his tongue was doing wonders to your cunt, you could manifest your orgasm coming through soon. And you were right, it came crushing to you, it was quite intense.

After coming back to your senses, Tetchou got up from his knees, licking your slick and cum off his lips and chin.

While doing this he wore a small smile on his face while holding eye contact with you, this just turned you on even more than it should.

“—Oh? Seems like you got wet again, princess. We can’t leave you like that, now can we?”, Tetchou noticed as he walked towards you while removing his belt and freeing his hard cock.

Finally, as you felt his dick at your pussy, you nearly felt like cumming again. But when he pushed it inside you, the pleasure fell beyond you, a loud moan was heard from you while Tetchou let out a pleasured grunt.

When he started to thrust inside you, you went into heaven, his cock filled you up so nice!

It hit all the right spots, and your cunt hugged him so nicely! He was starting to get impatient anyway, so he got a little rougher than usual.

“Such a good girl f’me, aren’t you, baby? F-fuck I needed you so fuckin’ bad, o-oh god—”, Tetchou cursed under his breath, getting even more focused on both of your releases.

He started to get a little more passionate with you, giving you kisses and whispered sweet nothing to you. “Are you close, my love?,”, he asked you.

“S-shit, ‘Hiro! Y-yes, fuck me faster!!”, you nearly shouted, being quite at peace with this response, he picked up your request.

First he placed one leg of yours next to his waist, holding it with a death grip, pounding into you faster to chase both of your orgasms.

Soon you got louder and your knot snapped, your pussy hugged his cock even tighter, which brought Tetchou’s own knot to snap.

Squeezing your eyes shut, Tetchou watched some of his cum leak out. “S-shouldn’t you pull out, ‘Hiro?”, you asked him.

“—Why should I? It’d be an waste to leave all of my cum leak out of you, wouldn’t it, darling?”

GOOD LORDY.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I might need to pause this event because I’m traveling with my family! So I’ll be able to post like 2-3 fics before I go! Sorry that it came so sudden, but I promise I’ll be very productive after!! Until then, bye pookies!!

[giggly-squiggily]

The Great Escape (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Hehe, thought there wasn't gonna be a fic today, did ya? >:D This is a sequel to "A New Kind Of Mystery"; I won't lie- originally I wasn't planning on writing one (do I ever plan sequels? Not really jlkrejarjeajraejkrjka) but after being encouraged by the ever wonderful @intheticklecloset here we are! :D I hope y'all like it!

Taglist Peeps:

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @dirtpie39 @duckymcdoorknob @cupcake-spice13 @t-wordiiish @rachi-roo @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart

Summary: Poe's getting ready for his and Ranpo's vacation and makes the bold decision to leave his notebook behind. Surely he'll be fine without it, right?....Right?

“Oh…which should I bring?”

Poe was once again at a crossroad, brows furrowing as he looked between too well loved hardcovers. Ranpo and his holiday was just around the corner, and while the important things for their trip were already packed- if not a bit messy on his boyfriend’s end- he now had to decide on reading material.

“Gggggr?” Karl was curled up on the nearest suitcase, watching Poe stress with lazy eyes.

“I know I won’t be reading the entire time, Karl- I just want a few things for when things settle down.” He flipped the books over, scanning their synopsis. Oh, they both sounded good! And then there were those new books he recently purchased…

“Poe!” Fingers jabbed his sides, making him squeal with a spasm. “Surprise! I’m here!”

“R-Ranpo!” The author turned to his boyfriend, or at least tried to. Those dastardly fingers were still prodding and poking at his sides, making him curl up and giggle. “Rannananapo, pleahahhahase! Iihihih’m trihihihihying to pahahhahack!”

“Still? I thought you had everything?” The detective looked over his boyfriend’s shoulder as he kept on tickling, humming at the books. “Didn’t you read both of these like- several hundred kajillion times?”

“Huhuhuhush! Thehehehy’re clahahhahahssics!”

“Just like you! Hehehe!”

Poe felt his cheeks burn- a combination of the tickles and Ranpo’s teasing compliment. “Ahehahahahha Rahahahn!”

“Hehe, okay okay.” The detective released him. Soon after he grabbed both books, tossing them in Poe’s remaining suitcase. “When you can’t decide, bring both! That’s how I go about my snacks.”

“Hehe..heheh..I suhuhpose thahaht’s fahahair…” Pushing his bangs back, Poe reached to zip up his bag, pausing when Ranpo quirked a brow. “Whahat is it?”

“You’re not bringing it?” The detective asked. Poe knew instantly what he was talking about.

His go-to notebook; what he used to scribble down outlines and ideas for his next big mystery. It was rare for Poe to let it out of his sight- even rarer for him not to bring it. 

Poe raised his chin, squaring his shoulders. “I’m not bringing it. I promised you a holiday, and I intend to keep it.” Nodding, he finished zipping his bag, finalizing his decision. “No working for me. Nope, none at all.”

“Are you sure?” Ranpo raised a skeptical brow. Poe hoped the smile on his lips wasn’t too frozen.

“Absolutely.”

Ranpo watched him closely before shrugging, reaching out and poking Poe some more. “Okay! In that case, let’s get this vacay started!”

“Rahahhan!”

~~~

“Look at that! Oh, and that! And that!” Ranpo was lying half-on top of him, nose and hands pressed into the foggy glass of their train compartment as they watched the scenery go by. Their destination was a cozy little cottage not far from the main attractions in Yokohama. The owner of said cottage was none other than Fukuzawa himself- only mildly panicked upon hearing Ranpo’s plan to “Find a cheap motel and pray.” It was a joke of course, but he insisted upon them taking it.

If anything, it guaranteed their safety. Though Poe wouldn’t be against the idea of a haunted hotel room…

“Poe, look! Look! Are you looking?” Ranpo’s gentle but insistent prodding brought him back to current time, turning his gaze out towards the pamphlet in his boyfriend’s hands. “They’ve got a zoo around where we’re heading! And lots of gardens and-” Ranpo went silent, eyes glued to the paper.

“What?” Poe couldn’t take the anticipation any longer!

“They have a cup noodle museum!” Ranpo all but breathed, eyes lighting up like a child on christmas. “Poe, we have to go! We have to! Cup noodles are the ultimate snack! The staple of childhood- are you laughing at me?”

Poe was in fact giggling in his hands, barely hiding a smile. “I'm sohohorry! I’m sohohrry- just; you’re so cute!” The author giggled against his shoulder, shaking with barely repressed mirth. “I nehehever knew how excited you were abohohut noodles!”

“As the god of snacks, I am mildly offended.” Ranpo replied, his deadpan expression breaking into a smile when Poe snorted. “As punishment, you get tickles!”

“Ah! Ahhehahahhahaha! Whahahit, wahhahahit- Rahhahahan! Whehehe’re in puhuhuhblic!” Poe squeaked, sinking as much as he could in his chair as he tried muffling the sound. Ranpo had decided to take full residence in his lap however- making it near impossible.

“Don’t worry- no one’s looking!” Ranpo teased in his ear, keeping his tickles just light enough to keep Poe snickering. “Even if they were, you’re cute! They’d love you.”

“Shuhuuhuhush! Aheahhahaha, Raahhahahan!” He squeaked, clinging to the detective’s jacket with barely any strength. He didn’t feel eyes on him, so Ranpo was speaking the truth.

Even if they were being watched, part of him simply didn’t care. Let them witness their love on this train going nowhere.

Huh- that’d be a good idea for a horror story. Two lovers on an endless train in limbo. He should write this down-

…Ah, right.

At some point Ranpo must have stopped, for when he came back to the Detective was once again reading his pamphlet, leaning into his shoulder and getting comfortable. Poe smiled, pressing a hand against his boyfriends.

He pretended the small ache in his chest was something else.

~~~

“CANON BALL!” Sheets and pillows flew everywhere as Ranpo landed in the bed, sprawling out like an octopus as he wiggled about. “This is the BEST! I’m so glad we came- that cup noodle exhibit was amazing!”

“It was rather..unique. Who knew there was so much to learn about snacks?” Poe smiled as he sat down, resting his aching feet. Their vacation seemed to fly by- the day they got there to now has been nothing but exploration and adventure. “I also enjoyed those racoon dogs- they reminded me of Karl.”

Said racoon made an assortment of clicking noises as it curled up against Poe’s pillow, snoozing once more. Ranpo grinned as he stroked his fur, cooing gently.

It was all so fun, and Poe was having a great time. However…somewhere deep down, he felt like such a failure.

Wherever he went, wherever he turned- he couldn’t turn off his brain from work. The sights and sounds of Yokohama’s beautiful gardens and zoos made him imagine the perfect settings for his books. The secrets within the city gave him inspiration for mysteries, and Ranpo…

Oh being with Ranpo made him think of a genre he never thought he’d write. Romance.

A hide and seek tale, maybe? A man is trying to find his lover but they’re so far away. He searches high and low, following the sound of their voice as it calls out to him playfully. He crosses the oddest of people and the most breathtaking sights to find them-

Everytime it happened he reached for his notebook, only to not find it there. It caused a small panic until he realized he left it home.

Then that panic turned to shame at how disappointed he felt not having it.

It was like a betrayal, only he was holding the knife aimed at Ranpo’s back.

“Poe?” Ranpo was standing before him now, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

The author blinked, suddenly unsure. “I…erm..”

“Poe?” Ranpo’s eyes widened suddenly, his hands reaching out to the other’s shoulders. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Again, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until he blinked that he realized he was crying. “Ranpo…I’m failing you.”

“What? Come here, come here.” The detective pulled his boyfriend to his feet, leading him to the bed. Once there, he pulled him down, down, down some more until they were laying against the warm sheets, Ranpo’s arms around his torso as he pressed gentle kisses against his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I made you a promise, and yet- here I am breaking it. I promised you I wouldn’t work but yet- here I am longing to write. I shouldn’t be thinking about all that- I should be spending time with you.” Poe blinked a few times, willing the tears to dry. He shouldn’t be crying- he didn’t deserve to. “I’m sorry, Ranpo.”

The detective was quiet against him, the arms around Poe strong as ever. Then he was sitting up, just enough to look down at Poe’s face. His expression…

“You know what I love the most about you?” He asked, eyes soft and lips curved in the gentlest of smiles. “It’s that you care so much about others. You want to give them your best self, even if it comes at sacrificing yourself.” He reached up, gently brushing Poe’s long bangs from his forehead so he could look him in the eye. “I know you, Poe. I know you’ll never quite turn off your brain even when on vacation. I know you’ll always be thinking about books and stories and writing- and you know what? That’s okay. It’s a core part of you, and another part about you I love with my entire heart.”

Poe wanted to argue, but Ranpo pressed the softest of kisses against his cheek, silencing him.

“I love how your mind is constantly running on creativity. I love how you find inspiration in things I wouldn’t even think about. I love how you’re so devoted to the craft it becomes real.” Each statement came with another kiss, stamping them into Poe’s heart permanently. “I love the fact you willingly came with me on vacation. I love you walked through an entire noodle exhibit you likely didn’t care for just to make me happy. I just- I love you. Even if you’re thinking about books and whatnot- you’re here with me. You’re with me right now. That’s all I want.”

Poe couldn’t find words. His throat was constricted with a lump the size of a baseball as he looked into his boyfriend’s eyes. Even if he could speak, how was he supposed to voice how much he loved him? Words aren’t enough.

Instead, he breathed out a small “May I kiss you?”

Ranpo grinned, nodding. Poe pulled him down into himself as he kissed him, putting everything he felt into it. Warmth spread across his body, curling his toes and setting into the deepest crevices of his heart for all eternity.

Beneath his hands, he could feel Ranpo’s heart racing just as fast, syncing up with his own and playing the same melody.

When they pulled away, they were both slightly flushed and breathless, Ranpo’s eyes bright against dark hair. Poe reached up, gently brushing it out of his face with a small smile.

“Hey..I love you.” Poe whispered, making Ranpo light up.

“I love you too.” He fell back into Poe’s chest, snuggling his face into his chest with a content sigh. “We should go on holiday more often.”

“Definitely.” Poe surprised himself by saying it. He surprised himself even further with how real the words felt.

“Oh?” Ranpo sat up with a grin, fingers scritting against Poe’s belly. “Did I hear you right? You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Aheheahahha! Oohohohof cohohohoure I ahahhaham! Ahehahaha- nohoohow you gehehehhet toohohoho!” With a boost of strength he didn’t realize he had, he managed to push Ranpo on his side, going for all the spots that he knew would have the detective squealing for mercy. “Tahhaek that!”

“AH! Aheahhahahhha, Pohohohohoohe! Ahehahhahhahaha!” Ranpo flopped like a fish against the sheets, sending them flailing off the bed. At some point Karl jumped for safety, landing on the nearby bed table as his humans wrestled about the bed, laughing all the way.

~~~

“Surprise!” Ranpo pulled out a small notebook from his snack bag, holding it out to Poe with warm yet nervous eyes. “I know it’s not your preferred notebook, but I saw it while snack shopping and thought of you.”

Poe stared, seemingly frozen at the gesture. For a moment, Ranpo was sure he messed up.

Then the author took it in his hands, tears misting his eyes as he held it close. “Thank you…it’s perfect.”

The detective grinned, jumping forward and kissing Poe’s with reckless abandon. “Do you love it? I know you love it, you love it don’t you?”

“Ahehaha! I do! I do!” Poe giggled, pulling the smaller man into his chest. “I do. Thank you Ranpo. In fact- I already know what I’m putting in it.”

“Oh?” The detective raised a brow but didn’t push, settling on snuggling against Poe’s chest instead. It wasn’t long before he was sleeping away.

~~~

Poe’s new notebook was not used for notetaking. Nor was it used for outlines.

Within the pages were an assortment of things- photos taken on a polaroid of them smiling, Ranpo giddily next to a giant cup of noodle, Karl staring at the Racoon dog- all various parts of their holiday.

Between photos were little blurbs- Poe’s sprawly handwriting detailing each event and his favorite moments from each activity. Some were softer- a secret photo taken of Ranpo snoring against his chest kept in the “Treasures” section. Wrappers of snacks his boyfriend insisted on him trying and he ended up liking were stashed inside as well- taped in with care and cute racoon washi they found. Pressed flowers from the garden trip were carefully added, a picture of Poe with a crown of them on his head nearby.

They only took so many pages- the rest of the notebook was far from full. Poe smiled as he pressed it closed, tucking it away in his desk.

He couldn’t wait for their next adventure.

Thanks for reading!

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Lee Know Drabble

Pairing: lee know x gn reader

wc: ~630

warnings: none? Kinda sad.

an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace. i forgot how much i love this little drabble that was based on a dream i had. all i remember from the dream now was that kiss left me questioning my bias when i woke up. 😭 i was a minho biased girlie that morning. sigh. i need to write more minho fics.

masterlist

The car had pulled up outside. Your fun was officially over and they were leaving. All the boys filed into the back of the suv, except one. You watched from the front porch as Minho approached the vehicle, his duffel bag slung carelessly over his shoulder, his hair lightly blowing in the fall breeze. The trees that surrounded your small cabin also blew in the breeze, their branches swaying back and forth, their leaves slowly twirling to land softly on the ground. The leaves crunched under his boots, and you felt your heart might crush with them, watching him go. Your stomach twisted at the thought of him leaving without saying goodbye. Had you done something wrong? It’s so hard to tell with him sometimes, what he is feeling behind the mask of indifference he wears. He opened the back hatch, throwing his duffle on top of everyone else’s. Through the opening you could see Jeongin, turned around with a silly grin on his face, frantically waving goodbye at you before the back hatch slammed shut and you could no longer see him. Minho opened the back door of of the vehicle, and you squeezed the wooden porch railing tighter in your grip, white knuckles, sure to have splinters. He was really going to leave without saying goodbye. Had your time together this week meant nothing to him? You felt the words rising up in your throat, wait- don’t go- but you choked on them before they could make it past your teeth. But instead of sliding in next to his band mates, he leaned in and said something to them, before standing straight again and shutting the door. You held your breath as he turned to face you. He took a couple steps toward the porch, locked eyes with you, before he gave you the most heart shattering smile and opened his arms, beckoning. You launched yourself off the porch, running to him. You crashed into him, his strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist, burying your face in his neck. The tears were flowing now as he gently stroked your back.

"Shh, kitten. Don’t cry. It’s not forever." He said.

You pulled back and he sat you on your feet. Your tear stained face looked up at him, his own eyes looking a little glassy. He cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you softly. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, holding tightly, unwilling to let him go. He brushed the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs, before kissing you again.

"Hyung, we have to go. We’re going to miss our flight." Hyunjin called from the car. Minho’s head jerked around to face him with what you assumed to be a murderous glare, as hyunjin mumbled a sorry before rolling the window back up.

"You should go." You said, sniffling.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose, and then your lips. "I’ll be back soon, I promise." He whispered. He kissed you one more time before releasing you and turning for the car. He climbed inside and the engine started. All the windows rolled down then, Minho leaning out of one in the back, Han leaning out the other side, Felix leaning out of the passenger seat, all waving at you. They all smiled brightly, except Minho, whose smile was a little watery. They all yelled their goodbyes, you could even hear the others shouting from inside, though you could not see them. You let out a shaky laugh and waved back as the car slowly pulled down the long driveway, the only thing left of him being the sound of tires on gravel.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Taste (NSFW)

Lmao basically using all 5 senses for Hux!

Anyways, here we have a fic that I am rushing to post because I want to write more lmao. I don't promise that this is my best considering how I did not revise(I need to stop being so lazy) and this is just me testing something about with Hux...I'm obviously still getting the hang of writing robophilia smut too so please bear with me ^^

Warnings/Notes: SMUT! AFAB Reader, Robophilia, Cunninlingus, Hux being Hux, Weird stuff, Slight tentacles???(Please tell me if you guys think I should add anything else)

Words: 3,250

“I have made a discovery.” 

The times when such a phrase came out from Hux’s voice box were not always the prettiest moments. Although he had started off as an android, he proved to be just as eccentric as the typical “mad scientist” trope entailed.

Afraid wasn’t the word to describe what you felt before asking “What is it you discovered, Hux?”, but perhaps it was uncertainty. An apprehensive feeling that would have never expected what would happen after Hux demonstrated his “latest physical development”. 

His theory was that the organic parts of himself had grown accustomed to the crystal displayed on his body, evolving him further than he believed possible. Rather than affect him conscious-wise, Hux instead…grew an extension of some sort. Extensions in fact. Miniature, snake-like extensions that protruded from within his face’s orifice. 

It had started with a simple demonstration that had quickly led to indecent thoughts on your part, and after all this time Hux knew how to read your mind perfectly. 

Thin tendrils that seemed to have bloomed from his organic flesh, sprouting from his mouth to fully exhibit to your curious eyes. Thin tendrils that snaked and toyed with your fingers that you had brought up to Hux’s features to better examine them. Thin tendrils that you quickly found slithering over your cheek before they came close to your lips.

Could you really blame yourself for having your mind be flooded with obscene thoughts?

Things had quickly progressed from you strolling through the tranquil land of Dvarka Deepwood to you gripping onto Hux’s body, face practically melding with his own as he stood as still as possible. But even with Hux’s stoic mannerisms, he himself could not remain in a single location as you fought against him. The robot stumbled backwards when you pinned your body against his, and he was soon able to catch himself when your lips away from him. 

“What the hell am I doing?” you breathed out once a sense of clarity hit you, mind pondering at how you basically threw yourself onto Hux once a fervor struck you so suddenly. Kissing Hux was a rather simple task, especially when considering that he frequently demanded that your affections befell him. But Hux kissing you…now that was a task that was impossible to challenge when taking into account that he did not possess such an ability due to his lack of lips and muscle movement. And now that he presented himself with a tool he could use for a form of kissing...you just couldn’t help yourself. 

“You are indulging yourself in what appears to be an attempt at the human act of ‘kissing’.” Hux replied to your rhetorical question which only caused you to release him to cover your face. Attempt.

“I know Hux.” you mumbled behind your hands before showing your face again, looking at him while his unemotional lights stared back at you. “I think I just got a little carried away with your…tentacle-tongue-whatever-it-is. Think I got excited at the thought of…”

“Reciprocation.” Hux chipped in with a twitch of his body, craning his head sideways as you realized his miniature tendrils were still out and about. Practically teasing you.  “It felt satisfactory.”

“What?”

“Your attempts…exceeded typical human limits.”

A chuckle escaped you at the sound of Hux’s attempted compliment, you at least hope that’s what it was. You could honestly say it made your heart skip a beat hearing a robot say your kissing skills weren’t disappointing. 

“So…what exactly does that entail?” You tilted your head before Hux moved forwards, just enough to lower his head that was buried into the crook of your neck. It was seriously getting harder to push certain thoughts away…

“This body requires more.” He announced which prompted you to widen your eyes, though it wouldn’t be the first time he’d ever insisted on something like that. Your own hormones were probably getting the best of you. “It lacks the perception of flavor.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and prepared yourself to pull away from Hux to look at him, but you were startled the second you felt his tendrils hit your exposed skin. Your hands shot up and grabbed onto his body, clawing into his figure once the realization hit. 

Everything was coming back to you, you couldn’t hold back the excitement that prompted you to take Hux’s head into your hands to resume your actions from before. Your own tongue slithered out from in between your lips before entangling itself with the many tendrils Hux provided. 

While you were able to taste the fleshy bits of his skin on the tendrils, you were sure Hux was savoring the desperation that dripped from your tongue. Hell even your body reacted with such an intensity, beginning to sweat while your chest rose both quick and without any rhythm. If anybody had advised you that you would experience such venereal instances with a murderous robot, you probably wouldn’t have believed them. 

But here you were with legs feeling weak despite no other physical pleasure being inflicted on you. Though perhaps that statement was wrong in its own way, and this was yet another thing Hux could sense. 

His left arm came around your body to press itself against the lower part of your back, caging you against him like every other time. 

You whined at the feeling as though you had been deprived of physical touch for too long. And you could admit that it was also so damn rewarding when Hux provided you with whatever form of intimacy his robotic self allowed. So damn gratifying like right now as his miniature tentacles toyed with your tongue before wriggling themselves in between your lips to explore your wetness. 

And you knew the feeling to be mutual with how Hux used his second arm to hold you, folding his scythe-like claw in an angle that prevented it from ruining the mood. While he pushed you further against him as if you were bound to leave him, his mouth pushed you back as he deepened the reach of his tentacles.

To your misfortune however, your body’s limitations were beginning to show when your lungs begged for some oxygen. Your hands removed themselves from Hux’s head to place a hand on the metallic parts of his right shoulder with your other hand placed flat against his chest. 

“Hu…Huxlee…”

“Why have you stopped?”

“Hol…hold up…I need to-” You let out a stammer after inhaling as deeply as you could, your breath of air immediately cut short when Hux’s tendrils attacked your mouth again. You were definitely NOT getting out of this one. Or perhaps…

Hux took back his actions and pulled himself away from you much to your surprise, finally giving you the time to catch your breaths with weary pants. 

“This is not enough.”

At this point, you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad statement. 

“This body requires more.” he repeated his phrase from before a mechanical whirring followed soon after, and Hux forced you to stand erect before removing his claws from you. Speaking of erect… “I sense your body is also in need of additional fulfillment.”

“Yeah…you could say that.” You panted before wiping your own saliva from your lips, staring intently at Hux who stepped forwards. You in turn stepped back, not to keep away from him but instead to find the stone structure you had been previously studying amongst the plantlife. 

“My sensors detect an increase in heat in your lower body.” Hux followed you until your bottom and legs clashed with the stone ramp that was meant to be a jumping location during trials, and you made sure to slightly lean back on it as comfortably as possible. He towered over you like every other time,visor looking straight at you before you peered down at the practically non-existent space between your and his lower halves. “Your form requires fulfillment.”

You could see that his self-made phallic apparatus had revealed itself, no doubt a while ago with how it stood and leaned against the cozy coveralls you wore. A jumpsuit you graciously borrowed from a locker in the colony ship, and a jumpsuit that was beginning to stain with whatever fluid was dripping from Hux’s appendage. With how it twitched against you, you were convinced it could sense the excitement radiating from your groin.

Fuck, if Dvarka’s humid nature wasn’t getting to you then clearly it was the hotness between you and Hux. A warmth bothersome enough that you unzipped the coveralls to reveal your tank top that had been clinging to your dampened skin. And your skin only proved to humidify further when Hux brought his head back to your neck, gliding his tendrils down to your collarbone  and eventually near your chest.

Fuck, it was hot. Too damn hot. Hot enough to have your hands scrambling on the zipper of your suit, desperately trying to take it off to cool yourself while also exposing yourself to the robot. 

However, Hux wasn’t having any of that. He didn’t have time to wait, he needed more now. And the twitching his body gave when he pulled away from your body was telling enough.

His left claw took you by surprise when he took hold of your jumpsuit with it, particularly the crotch area, before he ripped a portion of the material with complete ease. Hux’s head craned down to study your shocked self, your gasp signaling that he had revealed more than enough. 

“This body lacks a sense of taste,” his voice box rang out once he positioned himself, phallus placed against your wet sex. “I have studied the worms enough to know your flavor can be enhanced with enough pleasurable stimulation.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You what?” You weren’t surprised that he of course had been stalking your fellow survivors to learn-

“Ah-!” your thoughts were interrupted when you felt him easily fill you up without warning, and you threw your head back while gripping onto the structure beneath you. “Fuck, Hux!”

You removed your left hand from the stone to hold onto Hux’s metal arm once more as he continued to insert himself, your wetness allowing him to smoothly slide back out as you threw your head back. It was then that you parted your legs to both ground yourself a bit more and give Hux easier access, and he took this opportunity to step forwards so that he could plunge himself even deeper into you. 

The whirring of his mechanical parts sounded as he pulled out almost excitedly, robotic member in full view and drenched in your juices as he lay it against your hole again. After so many heated sessions with you, and the occasional “observing” of the survivors’ and killers’ sexual acts, the machine really had been learning. 

He knew the sudden emptiness would elicit a whimper out of you, that it would have you crying for more before he blithely obliged. He knew it would have you humping yourself against him, holding his hips in a desperate attempt to have him inside you again. 

It felt almost poignant, rubbing yourself against him before you reached out to his phallic device with a hand. It was crazy how crazy this robot made you feel, head dizzy at the thought of his sex and how it felt as though it was made for you. 

“Huxlee…please.”

“You succumb so easily.” The robot announced as he felt you pump him, and he finally moved his hips so that you could slide him right back into you. 

“So do you.” You gave out a breathy chuckle as you returned your hand to Hux’s side, pushing his body toward you so that he could completely bury himself inside you. A sigh of relief escaped you before Hux resumed his movements, sloppy thrusting resulting in Hux’s left claw moving up to take hold of your hip. 

He gripped onto you as if trying to steady himself, every thrust making his legs tremble just as your body began to slightly quiver. To steady himself even more, he threw his scythe beside you and over the vault, this being enough to scare some sense into you.

But even then you didn’t give a damn, instead shutting your eyes with an elated smile. The pleasure was beginning to take over you, mind becoming hazy the more Hux pushed his hips into yours. And in between all his thrusts you let him go with your dominant hand, now bringing your fingers to your wet clit. You began with some careful rubbing, making circular patterns that were quickly building up a sensitivity. And as that new feeling grew in your bud, you increased your pace before your back began to arch into Hux.

But the moment Hux caught sight of this, he removed his claw from your side before forcefully grabbing your fingers, bringing up your hand to his visor as he scanned the new fluids that coated it. Never once did he cease his pumping into you, in fact you were pretty sure his humping had sped up and increased in some force.

And when you opened your eyes to look at him, you were now certain of how eagerly he wanted to experience taste.  Once he took a proper look at your fingers, he brought them to his mouth where his tendrils immediately wriggled back out to lap up everything he could. 

You weren’t certain if the desperate licks were because he was trying so damn hard to taste something, anything…or if he finally acquired a new sense and was completely reveling in it. 

“Huxlee…” You lifted your head slightly higher to better watch him, soon enough feeling as his movements slowed down before coming to an easy stop. “No, no, no. Don’t do this to me aga-”

“This is not sufficient.”

Then what fucking was!? 

With your mouth agape, you watched in horror as Hux removed himself from you once he released your wrist and removed his scythe from behind the ramp. After how many times he had pulled such a stunt, you were almost sure it was now done on purpose. 

“Where are you going?” you questioned him with a fully flushed face, seeing as he took a step back to overlook your entire body. “Hux!”

“Get comfortable. Fast. Please.”

“Comfortable?” you made a face before his fingered claw placed itself on your chest, gingerly pushing you backwards so that your entire body lay on the stone ramp. Something told you it was best to bring your body as high on the ramp as possible, and thank the Entity you did. 

Despite Hux’s hunched stance, he proved to be too tall to reach his goal. Having you get up made it easier for him to bow his head down to the area between your legs, visor fixated on the wetness you continued to provide for his inquisitive self. 

“Something great is about to happen.” Of course he always had to bring in his damn lines like this was some damn video game. But as it seemed, something great was indeed happening. 

Before you were able to question Hux any further, you quickly found one of the robot’s tendrils lapping up the entirety of your slit, eliciting a sudden upwards jerk from your hips. Holy shit he had no mercy with the way those tendrils attacked your sex; it was almost as though each individual one had a mind of its own with how they parted your lips to pace their way inside you. 

You couldn’t help but writhe under Hux, whimpering, whining, nearly crying at this new sensation. Never in your entire life would you have imagined a makeout session with a robot that would eventually lead to him eating you out in this way.

The tendrils, despite being an extension of his damaged flesh, had their own kind of texture that proved to be softer and exceedingly nice against your flesh. And they were feeling up every inch they could find, every bit they could reach, letting you feel each and every one of them at all times. 

“Aah….Hux-” you managed to choke out before a gasp escaped your lips when one and then two tendrils found themselves deep inside you, your hands shooting out to hold his head that remained motionless unlike his new tongues. “Shit! Please…!”

“Your blabbering is satisfactory.” Hux voiced before his left claw held onto your waist, holding you in place after you jerked into him once more. “As is your squirming. Climax levels are swiftly rising.” 

And he was so right, because that usual knot in the pit of your stomach had been forming for a good minute now, tightening the longer Hux licked and toyed with you. More of his tendrils inserted themselves inside you, squirming inside your walls as if exploring some new cavern. Guess in a way that’s what it was to Hux. 

“Huxlee, I’m…” you panted with one more arch of your back, gripping onto his head with quick breathing that was as hot as your body felt. The heat only furthered your incoming orgasm while the cold feel of Hux’s claw brought a tingling. Oh fuck…it was becoming too much to handle on top of the feeling of Hux pulling you towards him as if it were even possible, spreading your walls ever so slightly. “I’m…I’m-”

Hux’s tendrils slid out from your hole to all collectively rub themselves against your clit, almost furiously to make your coming arrive even faster than you anticipated. And the robot was successful, catching you off guard by playing with your sensitivity that almost immediately made you cry out and throw your head further back. 

But although Hux knew you had finished against his mouth, fluids glazed over his orifice and tongues, he never stopped his licking. You squeezed your eyes shut while your sex had you twitching and squirming intensely, Hux taking full advantage of your current vulnerability. 

“Hux, please!” you whined as you continued to ride out your high, never able to catch a break or even a damn breath. “Hux…oh my god…please, I don’t have anymore…”

As your chest rose and went back down rapidly, your lips agape to try and catch your breath before you finally felt Hux removed himself. Quite hesitantly, but he managed to break himself away from you to give you your moment of recovery. 

You reopened your eyes to peer at the robot, vision almost blurry as the lustful fog remained in your mind. And looking into his visor’s lights, something told you he had the same sentiment.

“Did…did you get a taste?” you cleared your throat, ultimately shutting your mouth to ease your breaths. 

“Negative.”

Your eyes widened at Hux’s reply, shock coursing through you enough to make you instantly forget about your exhaustion. Meanwhile, Hux twitched his head before glancing down at your wet crotch in what you considered a predator-like stare.

“You’re joking.” You rubbed your eyes, not being able to contain a chuckle before you also took notice of his member that had not yet reached its satisfaction. 

“We must make another attempt.” Hux stepped close enough to rub said member against your still sensitive clit, making your legs wince before you looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Perhaps more stimulation involving insertion is required.”

“That just might be it.” you gave a breathy smile as you took hold of him, ready for the machine who was already gripping onto you. 

[anonymergremlin]

"I want to feel you... my love"

Here is the promised repost of my first P x Reader smut fic… now… with a gn!reader. Anything to make my readers happy! I also corrected a few things… and changed some words to make it sound better in my opinion. Enjoy it!

WARNING: Smut! Grinding, finger fucking, etc.

It has been like this for a few years now. [Name] would leave the safety of the hotel in the morning, two blades in each hand, a gun strapped to their hip and a desire to fight once more. Fight for the people of Krat, who have suffered far too long. Fight for the memory of two of the most important people in their life, their bestfriend Romeo and their beloved Carlo. That motivation is the only fuel left inside [Name]’s body to keep fighting against this nightmare, even if it meant returning to the hotel exhausted and tired. But with the arrival of the good puppet, the situation changed, there were fewer puppets to fight, the number of maniacs decreased and the hope in the people's eyes began to shine again. Geppetto's puppet, P, is a blessing to everyone.

At the very beginning, [Name] kept a distance. Watching the puppet from far away. From the way Lady Antonia was looking at him and talking to him, [Name] knew that the lady thought the same way as they did. That pretty face of his, that long chestnut hair, and the way he was built - it was all too familiar. As time went on, [Name] started to close the distance between themself and the puppet, to include him into their life, to open their heart for him. P is a valuable companion, P is the chance to bring an end to the chaos, P is the One who might heal this broken heart.

[Name] never planned to go this far. They never imagined that they would end up kissing him after he came back from a dangerous mission. They never imagined that they would whisper sweet words into his ear every time he paid them a visit in their little workshop, hidden in the basement of the hotel. And of course they never imagined that they would eventually want to take him to their room to devour every inch of his body. The young adult had opened their heart for him, something he fully embraced. As he began to become more human, he started to lean towards their actions, himself becoming needy and romantic. He let himself become affected by her gestures and words, causing the desire inside [Name] to grow even stronger. Soon, they would have to devour him.

The lovers entered the hotel, drenched in blood and oil. It had become normal for him to accompany them on what they call their 'hunts'. P needs to protect them, wants to protect them, so [Name] had no choice but to allow him to join. Step by step they climbed the stairs, both of them heading towards their room.[Name] opened the door slowly and walked in, immediately removing anything heavy from their tired body. Their coat fell to the floor while their blades and firearm were gently placed on a nearby table. A groan escaped [Name]'s lips as they moved their head from side to side to release some of the pressure from their sore muscles. "Ahhh, it really hurts today. I should have been more careful.

“Mia cara”.

[Name] turned around the moment the petname reached their ears. Oh, God above, [Name] loves it when he calls them by that petname. Their orbs focused on his face, observing how his soft lips were parted slightly and how his eyebrows were slightly lowered to show his concern. "Oh, my love, it's all right. A little pain didn't stop me then and it won't stop me now," they said softly as while stepping closer to him. Their left hand found its way to cup one of his cheeks, thumb stroking across his skin. [Name] watched as he leaned into the touch, his head moving slightly to ensure that their touch reached every tiny spot. The both of them remained like this for a while before [Name] leaned in for a kiss. Their and his lips pressed against each other, both their hands now reaching for a spot on each other's bodies. 

[Name]'s body was burning. They needed him now.

With all the strength left inside their tired body, [Name] shoved him and themself backwards. A slight slap echoed through the room as his back hit the wall. The tip of their tongue pressed against his lips, waiting for P to understand the action or a moment where he would open his mouth just slightly enough to let their tongue sneak in. It was no surprise that the second possibility proved to be the true one. Without any hesitation, [Name] slid their tongue into his mouth, twirling it around his as if they were going to dance. Unfamiliar noises, noises they had never heard from him, escaped from his mouth. This tongue kiss was a foreign thing to him, but one that felt so right. He slowly began to mirror their action, swirling his tongue around theirs like a dance, toying with it. 

They both remained like this for some time until [Name] broke the kiss. Thin strands of salvia hung from both their lips, the young adult breathing heavily, and judging by the way he looked, P would probably be as well if he needed to breathe at all. Their eyes travelled over his body before grabbing his coat to help him pull it off. "Come on, love. Let's take this to the bed," [Name] whispered into his ear while they grabbed his hand.[Name] pulled him close enough to their bed before giving him a little shove. As he fell backwards into the soft mattress, his blue orbs still focused on them. If he were able to blush, he would now look like a ripe cherry.

P watched as their hands moved over their own body, tugging at each piece of cloth that covered their skin. The puppet's eyes grew wider and wider as one piece after another was removed from their body, leaving them with nothing but their natural beauty. "Do you like what you see, my love?", they asked with a cheeky smile on their face. Slowly moving closer, kneeling down on the bed right beside both of his legs. [Name] settled where his crotch would be, rubbing their lower half against his. They knew P isn't built after the normal human anatomy, certain human parts aren't necessary for a puppet like him but they didn't care. They would get pleasure from each other in a different way.

[Name] leaned forward, their bare chest pressed against his. A few strands of his chestnut hair finding its way between their fingers. They played with them for a few seconds before planting a soft kiss on top of the strands. "You're so beautiful P, like a dream in the shape of a person, like a light that keeps you secure in the dark. You are truly amazing, my love".Their attention returned to his face, watching his reaction. P looked confused but also charmed, something she could see in his sparkling blue eyes. [Name] moved their face once more closer, planting a kiss on his lips before moving them along his throat, stopping at his chest. Fingers finding their way under his shirt, carefully pushing it up to pull it off his body in one swift motion.

His chest was incredible. The skin looked so soft, so radiant and untouched. It felt like they were looking at an ancient painting. A painting that summed up the word 'beauty'. [Name]'s fingertips rubbed circles into his skin, poking him just slightly to see if he would react, and to their surprise, he did. Soft, short gasps left his lips and his back arched slightly the more they touched him. It was a delicious, alluring and erotic view, one that made the feeling inside them burn even more. [Name]'s hands found their way into his pants, pulling them down by the waistband. Leaving the puppet exposed in all his naked glory. 

Even without any sexual human parts, with no cock between his legs, he still made them lose their mind. A short moan left [Name]'s lips, a blush spreading across their face. They couldn't contain themself any longer. "P, my love, look at me. Look what you are doing to me." The young adult pressed their knees deeper into the mattress, moving their hips back and forth, grinding their body against his body. [Name] felt the slight shape of a bulge beneath them, perhaps meant to express a certain masculinity in the puppet's form, pressing against their sensitive parts. Their hands grabbed his hips, using them to pull themself deeper into his frame. He observed them satisfying their needs with his body, while they gave him the pleasure of watching them in return. The puppet's eyes glowed in a bright shade of blue, words tried to leave his usually quiet throat, but he couldn't. The sight of his lover took his breath away. 

"P... P!" they moaned over and over again. His name falling from their lips as if it was part of a beautiful song, sung by them. He watched as their genitals rubbed more and more against his artificial skin, leaving a wet trail which seemed to shimmer faintly on his skin. Their body bounced with every movement, making him realize how perfectly shape they are. The puppet loved watching [Name] show themself to him in such an erotic way. P could feel a certain sensation running through his springs as he kept his eyes on them. He was certain that if he was more human, he would feel the same way, he would feel aroused. 

As he watched them continue to pleasure themself with his body, a certain desire began to grow within him. A desire to be part of the act itself. Away from watching and enjoying the show, to be part of their pleasure. P placed one of his hands on their lower body, halting their movement. He could sense the uncomfortable feeling behind their eyes, a bad moment to stop their pleasure, but he had to do it. With his other hand, he carefully pushed them off his body, letting their body drop down beside him. [Name] was about to raise their voice but was stopped by the feeling of cold metal touching their genitals, rubbing it gently before entering their opening with his fingers "P! Ahhh... there. Yes, right there!".

His action was a little surprising. But not as surprising as the fact that he knew almost immediately where to place his fingers. P's fingers were gentle, carefully exploring their inside. Fingertips rubbing along their walls, looking for the spot which would bring them true pleasure. The puppet seemed to have grasped the concept of finger fucking far too quickly.

They moaned louder and louder, almost singing to him. His name echoed through the room. Over and over again. He began to move his fingers faster, stronger. The springs in his body almost burst at the sight of his lover in total ecstasy. His lips also tried to please his lover with wet tongue kisses, following the rhythm of his fingers. The puppet desired all of it.

[Name]'s nails sank into his back, their body trembling and their moans became choppy. With one last call of his name, they came. Their juice coated the sheets. For a moment they closed their eyes, only to open them again to see their lover curiously holding up his fingers soaked in their juice. The faintest smile on his face. As if he appreciated the result of his actions. [Name] pulled his hand away from his eyes, forcing him to look at them. Without any hesitation, they took his fingers into their mouths, licking off their own juice, aware by the way he looked that his springs were responding again.

"My love...you are so good to me. But I'm certain. We could do even more, P."

[coltermorning]

The Freedom of Giving In (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: After you and Charles fool around behind Arthur’s back, you say the wrong man’s name the very next night. Enraged, Arthur gets his due.

Author’s Notes: A request I was very happy to write. There is a bit of violence (a fight) but I wouldn’t describe it as graphic. There is one small mention of blood but that’s about it. Enjoy this fic that again makes me question my preference for high honor Arthur :)

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, smut, low honor Arthur Morgan, rough sex, spanking, fist fight

AO3 Link

~

The Freedom of Giving In

Word count: 2192

You really should not have done this. You should have stood your ground, strengthened your will, fought back. Not this.

For the first time since Arthur Morgan touched you all those months ago, he was not the only gang member to have done it. Thoughts of last night came swirling back to you, the same darkness and trees making your brain fog over with familiarity. There were hardly any differences to speak of between that night and this one, only that where Arthur now stood pleasuring you, someone else had not even a day ago. Even worse, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel guilty about it. You were angry with Arthur. He was being a brat. Hence why you truly shouldn’t have let your desire get the better of you tonight. Not with him, at least.

You were still unbelieving last night had even happened. Most men were too intimidated to go near you, much less take a woman Arthur Morgan thought he owned. But Charles Smith wasn’t. He never had been. And it was this that got your attention, made you proud, even—proud to have landed him. Because you knew he was too cunning to butt into this spat you and Arthur were having under normal circumstances, but he was brave enough, confident enough, to do it anyway if your pleasure was involved.

“Ohh…” you droned when Arthur’s thumb found your clit, dragging against it. But it wasn’t Arthur you thought of. You thought of Charles’ eyes meeting yours, that lazy gleam in them that promised pleasure. You thought of how big he was, so thick you had ached all day from the stretch of him inside of you. You thought of finding your pleasure with him, not once but twice.

You still hadn’t decided whether you wanted Arthur to know or not. He didn’t deserve the pride he was likely feeling now, getting to do this to you. He didn’t deserve to think that he had won, that you were succumbing to him. You debated telling him all day that you had let Charles have his way with you. But you hadn’t, something about it being your little secret making your blood burn every time it crossed your mind.

You started panting when Arthur’s thumb rubbed against you lightning fast. Your pleasure built, and through tightly closed eyes, all you could see was Charles. Not Arthur, not the man who had demanded you obey him from day one. You had been outright ignoring him for a week straight because of it. And what did that get you? Nowhere near an apology and pushed against a tree deep in the woods, knowing Arthur would have his way with you soon. The controlling, infuriating bastard. So you didn’t think of him when your orgasm climbed toward its peak. You thought of Charles taking a full minute to seat himself inside of you because he was so big. You remembered his doting words, his thick, loving fingers. The way he made sure you found your pleasure before he ever sought his. Twice.

By the thought alone and under a different man’s hand, your release hit you hard, and you gasped in a breath at the weight of it breaking over you. Your mouth fell open, the ache within you burning—you wanted him.

“Charles,” you moaned. It took you less than a second to realize your mistake, to realize you didn’t want Arthur to know after all.

Arthur ripped his hand away, meeting your eyes with a blazing anger in his own. “What the hell did you just call me?”

“I- I didn’t-” You couldn’t find the words. He was never violent with you, but that didn’t make you cower any less under the look he was giving you.

“You been fucking Charles?” he demanded.

Christ, that anger. He might as well have made it palpable, cracked it like a whip across your skin. “I…”

He turned and started toward camp faster than you could react.

“Wait! Wait, Arthur.” You ran after him. “Don’t-” He slung your hand off when you caught up, barreling through you. An unstoppable force, headed straight for Charles. “He was- I didn’t mean for you to-”

“I’ll deal with you later,” he nearly growled, pinning you with a look so dark your arousal tangled through you again.

He stormed on, leaving you standing there. Watching, waiting for the inevitable.

Charles was just inside camp, sitting alone. Arthur rounded him with so much anger it was a wonder Charles didn’t feel it coming.

“Did you have her?” Arthur asked, dangerously quiet. Charles looked up at him. Stared too long.

“I asked you a goddamn question,” Arthur said through gritted teeth.

“So what if I did?” Charles shot back, standing. What a terrible thing to say. Charles was bigger than Arthur, probably stronger. But you knew the anger that plagued Arthur well, and with it burning this hot…Charles should have known better.

Arthur was on him in a second. Charles tried to shove him off, but Arthur was no weakling himself. He started punching. Charles tried to dodge, but he was too wide. Arthur’s wrath was too focused. When the first hit landed, you brought your hand over your mouth to hide your gasp—the cracking sound that met your ears was grizzly.

Charles hit the ground, and the other gang members came running. You didn’t have it in you to move a muscle, could only watch in the low firelight as the pair fought like dogs. Fought over you. You couldn’t deny that turned you on.

“Hey, hey!” Javier said, trying to pry Arthur off of Charles.

“Leave us!” Charles shouted, finding his footing and shoving Arthur over, gaining the upper hand. The second his huge fist raised in the air, the heartbeat before it came down on Arthur, you realized which man you wanted to win.

“Wait!” you shouted, but they were oblivious to it. Charles punched Arthur in the face so hard you winced. But Arthur was still moving, still so angry as to throw Charles to the side with ease. Before Charles could regain his balance, Arthur’s fist collided with the side of his head, a harder hit than any yet. Charles’ eyes rolled back, and he keeled over like a corpse, hitting the ground. Knocked out cold.

Arthur got to his feet and spit on him without a backward glance, his eyes immediately finding you. Time stopped with that look. Pure, unfiltered rage. But you weren’t scared of it—quite the contrary. You knew Arthur was a good fighter, but taking down Charles because of you…you wanted him for it. Your desire started burning hotter than you’d ever known when Arthur made for you.

The others tended to Charles as Arthur stalked you down, but you could hardly pay them any mind. Not when he stared like that.

He was on you in a heartbeat, grabbing your arm and yanking you along. You were silent, letting him do it for the sake of the heat burning through you. There was a cut on his face, a bit of blood running down his temple. Charles probably could have killed him. He definitely could have killed Charles. But for some reason, you didn’t care. You didn’t care that Charles was laying in a heap back in camp and that it was your fault. Call you evil-hearted, but all you cared about was Arthur’s hands on you. What he would do to you because of it.

He yanked you along until you were back in the woods. Deeper in the woods. When he finally let go, you expected him to demand answers from you, but he didn’t say a word before he forced you around, making you kneel to the ground. He lifted your skirts, revealing your barely-clothed backside to the world before you could so much as take a breath. He spanked you. Hard.

“Arthur!” you cried. But you couldn’t deny the arousal that shot through the word when he did it.

“Remembered my name, did you?” he snarled. Then spanked you again, your backside already burning like fire from the first one. You cried out, the edges of a moan pushing through. He had never been so rough with you, and by god were you loving it.

“Yes, Arthur, I-” He did it a third time, interrupting you.

“Just too damn greedy, ain’t you? I weren’t enough, so you had to go fuck Charles ‘cause you thought he was the only man I couldn’t take in a fight.”

“I never said-” He spanked you again, so hard you sucked in a breath to keep tears from pricking your eyes. You wanted him then. Wanted him to take you so hard you couldn’t walk after.

“I don’t give a shit how mad you are at me. Don’t you ever go doing that again, or mark my words I’ll kill him next time.”

Arthur spanked you one last time, and with it, you believed every word he spoke. After a pitiful whimper, you spun around, trying to show him just how much this turned you on. Only, you didn’t get an inch closer before he was on you, knocking your hands to the ground, ripping the rest of your clothes away. When you were bare, he forced you back over, the sound of his gun belt hitting the ground meeting your ears. You shivered with delight at the sound.

“You’re gonna take this,” he said, that low voice of his making you hold in a whine.

Without warning, he rammed his whole length inside of you from behind, so hard you cried out and fell forward. His hands brought you back up, holding you steady as he fucked into you again.

“That’s right,” he said through your moan. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, Arthur,” you breathed out.

His hand found your hair and pulled hard. “Louder than that, girl.”

“You, Arthur! I belong to you!”

He pounded into you, his pace brutal, his angle painful. You remembered then what you had been lacking with Charles—Arthur knew how to fuck you better than any man in the world.

“Still can’t hear you,” he said, releasing your hair and drawing your hips upward with his strong hands. He buried himself inside of you with a grunt, and you nearly came from the spot he hit so deep. You screamed his name.

“That’s right,” he ground out. “You’re fuckin’ mine.”

Your high was nearing when his hand found your ass and squeezed hard. His hips rolled into you with such force it was taking all of your strength not to fall forward, even with him holding you steady.

“You ever say another man’s name to me again and I’ll fuck it right out of your mouth.” You let out a loud moan. So damn close.

He leaned in, his hand finding your throat and pulling up. He spoke in your ear, voice rough, “You’re gonna take my spend for what you did.”

Your body shivered. He had never- would never.

Arthur let go of everything but your hips and slammed in deep. He went still and let out a groan so loud you realized how serious he was—he was spilling inside you. Worse still, you didn’t fight him, didn’t anger, didn’t do anything but feel your orgasm take hold at the thought of him forcing you to take it.

Your body shook with pleasure as you clenched around him, as good as saying you had wanted this all along.

After a few breathtaking seconds, Arthur let out a low laugh and circled his hips around, still buried so deep that every pass made you moan with overuse.

“You like that, girl? Like me breeding you?”

Hellfire. You were too high from pleasure for this. Too high to deny it.

“Who knew,” he joked. “Little miss independent wants my baby.”

“Shut the hell up,” you rasped, voice hoarse from all that yelling.

He laughed again and pulled out in one smooth motion, resulting in you falling forward the second he released you.

You sprawled in the dirt, uncaring that your womanhood was bared to the world, too used up to move.

“Minding me looks good on you,” he said, his hand squeezing your ass and teasing where he had spanked so hard earlier. He turned you over, making you lay flat out on your back to look up at him. “You remember this the next time you go testing my temper.” His grin took up his whole face then. Never in your life had you been more willing to let it stay. Not after what he had just done. In fact, if it were up to you, you’d take a different man every night just to have this again. And, unashamedly, you knew you would go crawling back to Arthur now, temporary spat long behind you. For you had forgotten just what made you crazy about him in the first place—that glorious body of his, and everything he knew how to do with it. There was no denying it now. You were his.

[libraryofneith]

Out of Mind - Chapter 9 (Joel Miller x Female Reader)

@hiroikegawa @evyiione @orcasoul @taz-97

*mrs weasley voice* Where HAVE you been?!!!! I know I know I'm sorry for my prolonged absence. I'm in my last year of uni, applying for post grads when all I really wanna do is write about our fav baby girl Joel Miller. If ever this happens again, which it probably will, worst luck I promise I've not abandoned you! I'm loving writing this fic and have big plans for new ones. Huge thank you to everyone who has liked and messaged me, assuring me that I have not been forgotten.

If anyone else wants to be the first to know when this fic is updated let me know and I'll add you to the taglist.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Summary: As you and Joel make the trade, your trust in him is stretched to its limits.

Warnings: [whole fic is 18+ minors DNI], it puts its age in the bio or it gets the block button, cursing, graphic descriptions of violence, attempted sexual assault, i'm going to put *** at the beginning and ending of any descriptions of sexual violence so you can avoid if necessary, Joel is still a dick, not me getting mad at him for things I made him do.

"you know I'd never let them hurt you."

"Do I?"

You

An icy wind startled you awake. The tip of your nose and cheeks had frozen where they'd been poking out of your sleeping bag in the night. You blew into your hands and tried to rub some warmth back into them, careful not to move the rest of your body or you'd wake Joel who was pressed up behind you.

You'd split the first few nights out of Boston, one of you resting while the other kept watch, but soon exposure to the elements had rendered caution impossible and you'd been forced to sleep at the same time, swaddled under both of your sleeping bags, desperate bodies clinging onto each other for warmth. Most nights you could feel Joel fighting to stay awake, body tensing up every time you started to relax until you hissed at him to quit it. Whether it was for fear of being attacked or refusal to accept any comfort from you was hard to tell.

Your body stilled as Joel shifted against you and you felt a familiar poke in your lower back. It had become something of a wake-up call recently, gently poking you awake on the rare occasions that Joel slept longer than you. It was a sensation with which you were familiar and you kept reminding yourself that it happened to a lot of people in your current situation and it didn't mean anything. Still, as a long, low moan rumbled in your ear you couldn't help but wonder which mystery woman was plaguing Joel's dreams currently. Tess? A ghostly apparition from his past? Or maybe, just maybe, you'd managed to worm your way into his sub-conscious. But you quickly scoffed at the thought. If Joel had any dreams involving you they probably involved wringing your neck.

Joel

She was in his dreams. Again. He always clutched her to him as if he already knew how she would slip away when he woke up. That was the worst part - spending his dreams coiled around her, nose in her hair, arms wrapped around her body, thrusting his hips, searching desperately for release - then waking up still embracing her but having to tear himself away, thanking whatever heartless God existed that she was such a heavy sleeper.

He pried himself away from her warmth, trying not to notice the way she immediately started shivering without him, prodding her until she woke.

"Time to get up."

"Mfff" was all the response he got.

"C'mon move your lazy ass."

"Go away."

"God, you would sleep all day if I let you. Gotta be the worst smuggler I ever seen." That got her up.

"How much further?"

"Not long, we should be able to reach em before sundown. Now remember when we're in negotiations…"

"You do the talking, I decorate the background."

"I know, Tess told me." Joel grimaced.

"What you do is try to be invisible. These folk don't play nice."

He would've much rather done this on his own but Tess insisted he needed back-up. He'd told her before that Ciara was her responsibility, not his, that she would be the only person to blame if she got hurt, but they both knew that was bullshit.

"You ready?" If she was rattled, she didn't show it, just nodded.

Unfortunately for them, Joel's estimations were exact: it was barely afternoon by the time they got to Marcus's camp. Guards frisked them at the perimeter, he noticed that one of them lingered a little longer than was necessary over her and he had to resist the urge to punch him.

"Let's go."

You

As you made your way through the camp, you had a distinct feeling of de ja vu. You hadn't encountered a group like this since before you came to Boston, after which you swore you'd never put your fate in someone else's hands again, fat lot of good that did. Now you felt like a fish swimming into a net.

This Marcus reminded you too much of Robert, except while Robert needed to hire bruisers to do his punching, this guy looked more than capable of striking his own blows. He gave a curt nod to Joel then his eyes turned to you and there was a cruel glint.

"See you've traded Tess in for a younger model." Joel cast you a furtive glance, but said nothing.

"You got what's ours?"

"We have what we promised" Joel responded, producing the collection of guns and ammo you and Tess had filched from the FEDRA base. At the time you'd been pleased to put your skills in climbing and creeping to use but now you didn't like the idea of giving this guy weapons. When you'd asked Tess what he was going to do with it, she rolled her eyes and said "Some light gardening. What do you think?"

"It's still mine till I decide otherwise." But he opened the trunk at his feet revealing a treasure trove of tea, coffee and batteries. You struggled to keep the greed off your face and you could see that Joel was doing the same.

You'd told yourself that everyone needed tools to survive and it was up to him what he used them for, not you. But now, as you looked at Marcus, you could see the faces of everyone you'd ever lost flashing before your eyes.

"It's all there" Joel said as Marcus rifled through the assortment of weaponry.

"Sure seems that way, but now I'm wondering if this is an entirely fair trade."

"It's not. We're giving you FEDRA level weapons in return for batteries n bullshit. You know as well as I do Marcus, that you're robbin' us blind."

"Might seem that way to you, all tucked away in that cosy QZ, but what's the feeling of a gun at your side compared to the feeling of a woman underneath?" Suddenly, you could feel the eyes of every man in the camp on you.

"What're you suggesting?"

"Give me n' my boys a turn with your slice and we'll walk away happy customers."

"C'mon Miller, don't be greedy. We ain't seen a woman in months."

There was a horrible silence. You couldn't hear anything but the ringing in your ears. Finally, Joel replied: "I don't share."

"Probably cos you scared em all away."

"Listen, I promise we'll give her back the same way we found her, more or less. I'll even throw in a few packs of cigarettes we got off a trespasser a while back. Been saving them for a special occasion."

The men were closing in on all sides now, like walls sealing themselves.

"How many packs?" Your stomach dropped.

"Three."

"Show me." Marcus produced the cigarettes with a flourish.

"J-Joel" you managed to stammer out.

"Shut up" Joel glared at you. "Unless you want a repeat of what happened in Austin."

Austin. That was his signal. Loosely translated, it meant trust me, even though things seem shit at the moment, I've got a plan. You have to trust me. And you did. At least, you thought you did.

Joel turned back to Marcus as you cowered behind him.

"At least lemme look at the merchandise."

Marcus beckoned him forward as you could feel his men shepherding you to their side of the camp. You felt a brush on the small of your back and you flinched, looking behind you, but all you could see was a sea of smirking faces.

You watched carefully as Joel went through the trunk. In a flash, you could see a glint of metal. Bullets. Joel must've stashed some in his coat pocket or sleeve. You glanced around, waiting for shouts of alarm or gunfire, but none came. Then Joel was looking at you, just for a second then back at Marcus, and you could see what he saw: under his jacket, a knife strapped to his belt, and a pretty hefty one. Could tear you a new one, or him.

Joel shut the trunk and stood.

"It's all here. I'll be back for her at midnight?"

"Done."

"You two boys escort our friend out of camp, I get first go."

"Right well, enjoy."

You cast one last glance over your shoulder as two huge men prodded Joel with their guns, leading him away from you, as Marcus placed a beefy hand on your shoulder and led you away from him.

*** You swallowed your tears, refusing to give this man the credit of seeing you cry, repeating to yourself, please help me to be brave, please help me to be brave.

"Alright sweetcheeks that's far enough." Bile rose in your throat as his hand forced your head down, pushing you onto your knees. You didn't want to look at him but he grabbed your chin, tilting your head up.

"This'll go a lot easier for you if you don't fight back. I'd hate to return you broken to my associate. That's just bad business."

His shout was cut off by you sticking your fist in his mouth. Teeth pierced your skin but you didn't flinch. You just grinned and said

You said nothing, just nodded and started to unbuckle his belt. You ignored his hand stroking your hair in a disgusting display of tenderness and focused on your task until it came loose. You met his eyes one last time, smiled, then stuck his knife into his groin.

Marcus groaned pitifully and collapsed. Before you could finish the job, you heard the rattling of gunfire and you took off back towards the camp where you could see Joel, having grabbed one of the men's guns, shooting his way through Marcus's men. Unfortunately one man he hadn't accounted for was sneaking up on his left side. Not his left side.

"this'll go a lot easier for you if you don't fight back", sticking the knife into his side.***

The man barrelled into him and had his hands around his throat.

"Let go asshole!" You screamed, plunging the knife into his throat before he had a chance to obey your order.

Joel stared up at you with bulging eyes as you pulled him up, then you both dove behind a crate as shots rang out all around.

"You go left, I go right."

"Real smart thinking giving these douchebags guns" you quipped, but Joel ignored you, responding:

*** You nodded, then edged to your left as Joel drew their gunfire away. It was criminally easy to put your knife through the first two guys but as you grabbed the third one and slit the blade across his throat, you felt a fist closing in your hair and yanking you back. You tried to scream for Joel but another hand clamped over your mouth. You thrashed wildly but to no avail, whoever it was had you in a complete grip. Then you were going flying, hitting the ground with a grunt and feeling your arms and legs pinned as you stared, in horror, at the face of Marcus, covered in blood but still very much alive.

"Guess you shoulda finished me when you had the chance instead of running to help your boyfriend."

"Get off me!" You yelled, turning your face away, the only part of your body you could still move.

Then a single shot tore through the air and Marcus let out a gut wrenching roar above you. Two hands appeared on his arms, ripping him off of you. You remained on the ground, gazing up at the tree tops until a familiar face came into view, tufts of grey and black beard matted with blood.

"I'm gonna enjoy this so much more." You looked around wildly. The sound of gunfire had stopped but you couldn't see Joel, just trees above you.***

"Joel." He helped you up, keeping a firm but not ungentle grip as you swayed in the breeze. The sound of a groan brought you back to reality. Marcus was squirming on the ground like a fish on dry land. A gun was pressed into your hand.

"He's all yours." Marcus whined as you approached.

"No wait, please I didn't mean it, take what you want, let me go, I'm sorry, I won't ever do it again, please…"

You steadied your hand and aimed for his forehead.

"This'll go a lot easier for you if you don't fight back" and you pulled the trigger.

"Are you hurt?" You gazed at Joel who was looking at you with concern. You threw your head back and laughed.

"Am I HURT?!" With a scream that you didn't even realise you were capable of making, you launched yourself at Joel, punching and kicking blindly, shouting "are you hurt? Are you hurt? ARE YOU HURT?"

Joel caught your fists.

"I'm sorry, it was the only thing I could think of." You kept kicking him. "I had to get their guard down and get them separated from their leader." You kicked him doubly hard in the shin. "Ow, stop, you know I'd never let them hurt you."

"Do I?" You screamed, "DO I KNOW THAT?"

Joel held your gaze as your voice echoed throughout the forest. You were suddenly, painfully aware of the death that surrounded you.

"We need to get out of here." You tore yourself away from him and started searching blindly for your pack."

Joel jumped, then followed you as you ran out of the camp.

"Ciara…"

"NOW!"

[fillinforlater]

Important Announcement and Updates

Hello everyone, Smite here!

Dear readers of my blog, loyal followers, writer friends and everyone in between, I got some news for y'all. Things will change and partially already have and I feel like I should give a heads up about it in a single post so you're not confused as to what has happened.

But first of a word from our sponsor a big thank you for the insane Notes-Totals on my last couple of fics. There is a lot of 900+ and already a fuckton of love for "Just Testing", and leaving aside all the nonsense I wrote in this fic, I'm still very grateful for the support. Thank you!

Now to the upcoming changes/wtf is actually happening:

1. I will take an (warning, evil words ahead) indefinite hiatus from writing fics in the manner I did in the past/up until now.

What does this mean?

"Are you retiring? Are you going to delete your stories? Are you not going to be online/active in Discord anymore?"

NO, NO and NO.

I have no plans to (ever) retire and if I would, a 31some would look pitiful it would be with a feeling of certainty and geniune satisfaction (at least I hope so).

I just need a break from this neck-breaking pace of forcing every ounce of horniness and creativity from my head onto the Docs to the point where it's all just a mush of nudity, sex and filth and words and chaos... I'm losing grip on wtf I write at times.

This hiatus is to reset myself, to test other things without feeling forced to post them or at least something just to be on a streak, just to push that number higher and higher. I will def continue creative writing, just don't expect me to post it cuz it won't be all kpop.

BASICALLY: Stories will be released, but they will be rarer and most likely longer and hopefully still to your liking, from a story and smut perspective (unless it's full-on fluff/angst).

2. Uni will come like three big waves and during the strongest fucking tsunami, I have to do a boatload of other things on top. I'll be busy, I need to be focused, failure is not an option. Freeing myself from the (internalized) pressure of "having to post a fic this week" will help me to push through this mess.

I'll miss you when exams start and I'll come back to you, don't worry.

3. MoA will continue until Part 100, then there will be a two year special (because dayum, that's how long I am doing this already) and before/after the special, MoA will enter a new phase:

Instead of doing an appreciation post every Monday, I will do MoA's whenever I've read one to five stories that I want to appreciate. They will pop up every now and then, in different formats, to show you what I read and enjoy and who you should follow for more good stuff.

My intention with MoA was always to appreciate something, never to exclude someone or tell them that their writing id bad because they have been featured less than others. I want to continue this with more heart than before, so I'm going to break out from the regular pattern after Part 100.

4. Regarding the update I send a while back with all the series' and stuff: I still have intentions to keep my promise and write them, just with less urgency and pressure. The final request from back in January 2022 (lol) will also be written.

I will try my best, I thank you for your patience.

5. The final part of L4 and another fic are big guarantees to be released soon, so get ready, cuz I won't hold back. Remember: I'M STILL HERE! I GOT A LOT OF STUFF...

See y'all around!

... and I'll add more!

Let's start this new era on my blog. I hope you'll give me the same love and support you've given me until now.

(Oh, and feel free to flood my askbox with pics, questions, gams and ideas. No guarantee of reacting to them, but they might stirr me up xD)

[astral-mariner]

idk if I should be submitting this to your blog vs commenting on Homeworld Lost directly, but I’ve suddenly had a theory for the reason Saiyan Saga Vegeta does not realize he’s accidentally just sent Freeza his entire plan to find the Namekian dragon balls. Was it Raditz’s job to prevent communications from being overheard and Vegeta either didn’t know that Raditz was doing it in the past or Vegeta didn’t think through that he needed to do it himself now, resulting in a very costly mistake?

Also I’m excited for when the rest of the fic starts releasing! I’ve been rereading to leave comments and noticed the little teaser about what happened to Vegeta’s mom, and enjoyed that I have a tiny bit of extra out of fix context this time!

Hehehe. I'll tell you right now that I completely recontextualize Raditz's (and later Vegeta's) coming to Earth... But that's something I won't spoil! 😈

And yes, Raditz is usually the one to protect himself and his comrades from Freeza's surveillance when he can. He does this via means he doesn't always explain or tell Vegeta about, too (partly because Vegeta isn't technologically-minded like he is and wouldn't understand it). So Vegeta doesn't necessarily know how exactly he has to be on his toes when it comes to concealing things from Freeza. However! Vegeta also just doesn't fucking want Freeza all up in his business anyway, so he's usually pretty cautious himself.

But...let's just say that Vegeta is pretty fucking unhinged by the time Raditz ends up on Earth. They've been serving under Freeza for over 20 Earth years at that point, and it's driven them all a bit crazy. He's increasingly fucked up and sloppy, and without Raditz there, he's definitely more vulnerable to Freeza's surveillance. And that's exactly what happens.

I'll reply to one of your comments on the fic itself soon... You're right to wonder about exactly how and when Raditz realizes that Kakarot might still be alive and where he is. I'm an angst writer, so I promise I've constructed everything to hurt you. 😇

I hope you enjoy the epic post about Vegeta's mom! There are some scenes where her backstory comes into play, but it will definitely be fun to have the context as you read, as it doesn't spoil things necessarily the way having some other context would. You'll learn as I release more, but I'm very big on progressive, indirect revelation of context. Different scenes will take on entirely different flavors after you learn more about what's going on behind the scenes.

I'm finishing up Part 9 as I can when I'm not at work! Then there will be Parts 10-12 to write. I've gotten about 140k words in my draft so far. Really hoping to finish before the end of the year. I will have some time off work this summer, so hopefully I will be able to make a bunch of progress then!