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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 4 years ago

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you weren’t supposed to hear that (F! reader)

A collection of instances where your roommate hears you moaning their name whilst your fingers are between your legs. Or your neighbor. Or maybe you walk in on them saying your name. Take your pick 😈

warnings: NSFW, manga spoilers (in terms of what the boys do post timeskip) words: 9.7k (oops)

a/n: wow it’s been awhile since I wrote one of these!! This has been half finished for a while and i finally got the inspiration to complete it. please enjoy!! 💖

Other parts: Kuroo | Sakusa

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Being Ushijima’s roommate is fairly simple. He’s easy to get along with once you get past his jarring frankness and strict regime. Seriously, the guy never changes his routine; working out at 6am, breakfast at 8, leaving for practice at 9, home at 5, dinner at 7, and in bed by 9 o’clock. He’s a machine, but you don’t mind his predictability. It certainly makes your life easier being able to plan around his tried-and-true schedule.

You saw his ad for a roommate a few months ago when you were desperate to get out of your parents’ house and into the world. They weren’t too keen on the idea of you living with a man, but upon meeting Ushijima, they changed their minds quickly. Neither of them able to believe that stoic Ushijima Wakatoshi would ever lay a hand on you. Plus, the deal was far too good to pass up, he is seriously underselling the room you’re currently renting; and there’s the bonus that he’s frequently absent at away games, leaving the entire apartment for you to enjoy alone.

You learned quickly to keep your mouth shut on who exactly your roommate is, never inviting anyone over anymore in fear of them finding out from the various volleyball paraphernalia Ushijima so sparsely decorates the apartment with. It became difficult for you to tell if people you just met actually liked you, or if they just wanted a glimpse of the infamous Ushijima Wakatoshi and maybe an autograph. And don’t even get you started on his fangirls that he’s so oblivious about.

To your surprise, he was indifferent about having a roommate of the opposite sex. You thought for sure he’d try to ‘keep your honor’ or some shit like that, but all he’d asked you was what your job was to make sure you can pay rent, if you were tidy, and if you didn’t mind being alone. He’d seemed satisfied with your answers, and you’d moved in the following week.

The first and only time Ushijima has someone over, you get home from work surprised to see an interesting looking character standing in the kitchen across from him. They both look up at you, Ushijima giving you a slight nod in greeting while a wide smile spreads across his friends’ face.

“Ushiwaka! You didn’t mention your roommate is that pretty!”

Ushijima blinks as if he’s never considered that about you before, while you chuckle. “Ushi…waka?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone refer to him in such a casual manner before.

The red-head beams, slinging an arm around Ushijima that he surprisingly allows. “Yup, me and Wakatoshi have been friends since high school!”

Now it’s your turn to blink, never having expected Ushijima to have friends outside of volleyball. Especially not ones who call him by his first name. In fact, you don’t even know if he considers any of his teammate’s friends either. He doesn’t spend any time with them outside of volleyball (that you know of) and so far, this is the first person he’s brought to the apartment since you moved in.

“Well,” the visitor nudges Ushijima in the side, who’s expression hasn’t changed throughout this entire interaction. “Are you going to introduce me or what?”

Finally, Ushijima speaks, his deep voice rumbling through your chest as he says, “This is Tendo, we played volleyball together in high school.” He doesn’t show it, but he notices your piqued interest at that information.

“Oh?” You say, “Do you still play?”

Tendo waves his hand dismissively, “Nah, it wasn’t for me. And I’m nothing compared to golden boy over here.”

You try to hide your amusement. This is definitely not what you were expecting from one of Ushijima’s friends. Tendo is rather enjoyable and chatty, much unlike the stone of a man sitting beside him.

“Tendo is a chocolatier in Paris,” Ushijima supplies.

Now you can’t hide your surprise. “Wow! That’s really amazing. What are you doing in Japan then?”

“Just visiting,” he beams. “And of course, I had to see my best friend Wakatoshi-kun.”

“Are you going to his game tomorrow?” You ask, ignoring the way Ushijima’s attention focuses on you. He didn’t think you paid much attention to his volleyball schedule besides when he’s going to be away.

Tendo nods excitedly. “Wouldn’t miss it! You should come too!”

You open your mouth to give some excuse, but then close it again at Tendo’s expectant expression. You bite your lip nervously; in the time you’ve been living with Ushijima you’ve never once actually seen him play. There’s a part of you that avoids it, fearful you might become one of his dreaded fangirls. But you can’t refuse Tendo’s invitation, and to Ushijima’s surprise, you agree to attend.

Clapping his hands together Tendo says, “We get to sit in Ushiwaka’s special seats! Maybe I’ll bring some chocolates for us to snack on…” And when he sees your eyes light up at that, he smiles again, “Chocolate for the lady, done.”

You laugh, and then Tendo is seeing himself out, telling you he can’t wait to see you both tomorrow. And once he’s gone, you can’t help feeling like you don’t know what to with yourself now. Not with Ushijima’s stare boring into your back. After a minute he says, “You don’t have to come.”

And if this had been the first week you’d known him, you might’ve taken that a little personally. But knowing him, he thinks he’s just stating something. He doesn’t see how it can be interpreted as him not wanting you there. “No, it sounds fun! And Tendo seems nice.”

“Tendo is very kind,” he states, and you have to resist the urge to chuckle at him. Ushijima is not a man of words and if that had come out of anyone else’s mouth you would’ve thought they were little strange. But in the months of living with him, despite your limited interactions, you’ve gotten used to his mannerisms.

Looking away from him, you start retreating down the hallway to the safety of your room, but before you disappear you say one more thing. “Plus, I’ve never seen you play.” Then you’re gone, not to be seen for the rest of the night. You don’t see him watch you until you’re out of sight. If you had, you would’ve been shocked by his dumbfounded expression at how the small smile you gave him made his heart stutter for a moment.

Ushijima has to leave much earlier than you do for the game, but he informs you that Tendo will be by to pick you up and go to the game together. Then, for the first time probably ever, he bids you goodbye and tells you he’ll see you afterwards.

Tendo comes by the apartment a few hours later, sporting an Ushijima jersey and a box of chocolates he asks to hide in your bag. For having just met him yesterday, he easily leads the conversation, asking you all sorts of things—though he seems particularly interested in your relationship with Ushijima. You try to assure him it’s nothing. Really, you aren’t even sure if you can consider Ushijima your friend. Right now, you’re pretty much strictly roommates and that’s it.

When you let it slip that you’ve never seen Ushijima play, Tendo is shocked. “Really? Not even on TV or anything?”

You shake your head. “Nope! I guess I never thought of it.” The lie slips through your teeth easily and Tendo doesn’t bat an eye at it.

Though he does grin telling you, “You’re in for a treat then! Have you ever watched volleyball at all?”

Your regretfully admit to him that no—you’ve never seen a game. You do vaguely remember the rules from high school, but they’re a bit fuzzy now. Tendo tells you not to worry and spends the rest of the train ride to the stadium filling you in on all the aspects of volleyball. And the more he talks, the more excited you get.

When you finally enter the stadium, Tendo is amusingly proud to show off your VIP tickets to be allowed entrance to the special seats reserved solely for Ushijima’s guests. To your delight, they’re some of the best seats in the house and you and Tendo get to work on the chocolates you snuck in while you wait for the game to start. Already the stadium is buzzing with excitement and you can feel your own continue to grow.

Meanwhile, Ushijima hasn’t said a word that he has visitors today. So, it comes as a complete surprise to his teammates when a chorus of cheers erupts from his seats when he enters the stadium. He doesn’t take note of how shocked his teammates are—he’s never had any spectators before. And none of them ever expected one of them to be a girl.

“So, who’re your friends?” Heiwajima asks during warm-ups, nudging Ushijima in the side and motioning his head towards you and Tendo.

“Isn’t that Tendo-san?” Kageyama notes, his own eyes up in the stands.

Without looking upwards, Ushijima replies, “It is.”

Heiwajima rolls his eyes. “Yeah, we aren’t so interested in him as we are the beauty sitting next to him.”

Now Ushijima lifts his attention, eyes drifting to you. He hasn’t told anyone on the team he has a roommate. Not because he has any reason to hide you, but there has never been a reason for him to bring you up. So, he doesn’t think much of it when he says, “That’s my roommate.” And then introduces you.

Everyone on the teams’ eyes nearly bug out of their heads at that information.

“Ushijima, you bastard!”

His brow furrows. Why is he a bastard? You’re just his roommate. And he never lied to anyone about you, nobody ever asked.

“Keeping that a secret from us this whole time!”

He ponders that. He wasn’t really trying to keep any secret. “It’s not a secret,” he says. “You never asked.”

The team guffaws at him and continues to grill him about you until Hirugami claps his hands and tells everyone to focus on the match. They’ll have plenty of time to discuss Ushijima’s secret roommate later. Again, Ushijima tries to explain it you were never a secret, but Hirugami brushes him off and tells him to start spiking warm-ups.

It isn’t hard for him to ignore you and Tendo during the game. He’s used to having nobody here for him, so he just treats it like any other day. It’s nothing special, he’ll play the way he usually does. Meanwhile, up in the stands, you can’t keep your eyes off him. You finally see why he works so hard, and maybe understand him a bit better.

He loves volleyball, you know that—but seeing him in action really drives it home. He’s a machine. Every time he serves or spikes you swear the other team’s arms are going to rip off from the force of the ball. And the sound that ricochets in the stadium when the ball connects solidly with the floor is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It’s like a clap of thunder rattling your bones and before you know it, you’re cheering loudly alongside Tendo with no qualms.

It’s exciting being here. You can feel your heart racing in your chest each time the Adlers or the other team is at a critical point, and sometimes you catch yourself holding your breath in anticipation for the outcome. You never thought watching a sport could be so thrilling.

And Ushijima is incredible. You suspected as much, but actually watching him for the first time is something else. You can’t help gobbling up the sight of him, his powerful thighs thrusting him into the air when he jumps, his biceps on display when his hand connects with the ball—and above it all, that sharp look in his eyes that sends goosebumps prickling down your spine without your permission. If Tendo notices you shamelessly ogling your roommate at all, he doesn’t comment.

He's oblivious to the fact he’s actually playing a lot more intensely than he usually does. Which some of his teammates never imagined possible. And most of them, besides the clueless ones alongside Ushijima, have a pretty good idea what’s different about this game. Though they can’t pinpoint if it’s just a result of having spectators in general, or if it’s you specifically.

The Adlers come out victorious after four hard sets, winning the first and second, but then having to snag the win in the fourth. You watch as the team gets swarmed by reporters looking for a post-game interview and Tendo tugs on your arm telling you that Ushijima is going to meet you by the locker room. You must give him a surprised look because he holds up the card dangling around his neck with a grin. “VIP, remember?” You giggle and follow him out.

In the locker room, Heiwajima and others try desperately to invite him, you, and Tendo out with them after the game. But he has to decline, you three already have plans. And he doesn’t wait around to see their disappointed expressions as he heads out of the room to look for you and Tendo. He finds the two of you nearby and once you catch sight of him, a smile splits your face in two.

“That was amazing, Ushijima! I’ve never had so much fun watching a sport before!” You gush once he’s in earshot.

“Volleyball is very fun.” He nods as the three of you head towards the exit. Ushijima purposefully avoids the spots he knows he is likely to be ambushed by reporters or fans, opting for a back exit instead that he sometimes uses when he wants to make a quiet escape.

“I had no idea being left-handed was such an advantage! Tendo told me it really throws people off apparently.”

Tendo sneaks him a smile and then throws an arm around his shoulder. “So, where is the great Ushiwaka takin’ us for dinner?”

You end up at a nice restaurant not too far away, and of course Ushijima gets recognized a couple times being this close to the stadium. He politely agrees to autographs and declines photos, seemingly unaware to the fact they’re just taking them secretly when they return to their tables. And while you’re waiting for your food to arrive, you can’t seem to stop talking about volleyball. Admitting that you’ll probably watch a few more of his games from home now and even cover your face in embarrassment when Tendo suggests you get your own Ushijima jersey to wear in support.

It’s then that Ushijima realizes he very much enjoys listening to you talk about what you thought of volleyball. Though he does feel heat creeping up his neck at the thought of you wearing one of his jerseys. All the while, Tendo is sitting beside you smirking up a storm, and Ushijima can’t for the life of him place why.

After dinner, when you’re walking a bit ahead of them and out of earshot, Tendo nudges him playfully in the side. “She’s pretty great, right?”

He looks at your back, expression unchanging. “She’s a good roommate.”

Tendo groans dramatically. “No blockhead—like, she’s pretty great, if you know what I mean.”

He blinks. “Do you want to ask her out?” Tendo can’t help slapping himself on the forehead. Who was he to think that Ushijima has any idea you are available, and he has a very high chance with you?

“Not me,” Tendo spells out slowly. “You.”

“I don’t want to ask her out.”

Tendo’s thin brows lift. “Are you sure about that?”

Tendo doesn’t miss his slight hesitation before he says, “Yes.”

And he doesn’t—you’re his roommate, and a good one. He likes having you around, but not the way Tendo seems to think.

But Tendo isn’t convinced. “Okay~,” he sing-songs before skipping up to loop his arms through yours and make you laugh about something. Ushijima thinks about that for a few minutes, why doesn’t Tendo believe him?

When you first moved in, it took a few weeks to get accustomed to each other. But once you figured out his schedule it became a lot easier. You know exactly when to hide in your room if you want to avoid him and when to come out once he’s gone. After going to his volleyball game, you especially try to avoid him during the times he’s walking down the hallway towards the shower, damp with sweat from a workout. Your brain can’t seem to function seeing him slick with the shine of sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead, and a towel draped around his neck—it’s too much for you, as much as you hate to admit.

But one week, you swear he’s on a warpath to make you a stuttering, flustered mess. Despite knowing the fact you’re certain Ushijima has no clue he can have that effect on people, much less do it on purpose. But every single day he’s waltzing around the apartment without a shirt on and while he doesn’t seem to see the problem with it, you don’t think your heart can take it much more.

And it’s the final straw when you see him a few days later, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin as he saunters across the apartment from his home gym towards the bathroom in the hallway. All while you’re standing dumbfounded in the kitchen trying really hard not to get caught staring at his enormous biceps or the way the shine of sweat accentuates the dips of his abdomen. It’s in this moment you can truly understand why he has so many fans despite his rather stone-like demeanor.

“You have got to put a shirt on,” you blurt when he’s halfway across, knowing this will turn into some dangerous territory if he keeps walking around the apartment half-naked.

He stops in his tracks, his head cocking the only indication he’s confused by your statement. “I don’t want to wear a sweaty shirt,” he says by way of explanation. He doesn’t seem to notice your flustered expression. “I might catch a cold.”

You resist the urge to groan and slap yourself on the forehead. “Fine, then I’m wearing whatever I want around the apartment,” you say, determined to make him realize why he can’t just walk around like that. Though knowing Ushijima, you’ll never get through that thick skull of his.

And as you suspect, he simply replies, “Alright.” Before disappearing into the hallway and the bathroom to take a shower.

You lower your forehead to rest it on the cool countertop, shaking your head at how dense he really is. And you’re beginning to realize you think it’s endearing. While his infuriatingly toned body may be a major perk, you’re starting to see that you like him too. Now you actually groan. You swore this would never happen—not with Ushijima at least. But here you are.

After that, you make a pointed effort to wear the shortest shorts you can possibly find whenever he’s around. And you purposefully pair them with an oversized shirt, so it doesn’t look like you’re wearing pants at all. But if it has any effect on Ushijima, you can’t tell. You can’t help cursing his dumb impassive expression every time you retreat to your room for the night. Seriously—is he swayed by anything ever?

However, Ushijima hardly knows what to do with himself the first time you strutted out like that. He might be dense, but he’s still only human. His eyes naturally span down the expanse of your exposed legs and he has to grip his water bottle like a vice in order to keep it from clattering into the sink when you rise to your tiptoes to grab something from the top shelf. Your shorts ride up even more, hugging the curves of your ass as you stick it out to balance yourself.

You let out a surprised sound when he appears behind you, easily picking up the thing you were vying for and handing it to you without so much as a word.

“I really need a stepstool or something, huh?” You joke, taking it from him gratefully and blissfully unaware he was just blatantly staring at your ass.

He doesn’t say anything, but the next week you find a small stepstool leaning against the cabinets for you.

Staring at your phone in your hands, you thank any god listening that you brought it with you. How stupid do you have to be to lock yourself out of your apartment when you’re taking the trash out? Sitting on the floor against your door, you lean your head back on it and let out an exasperated sigh. You already went down to the office for help, they called a locksmith, and they aren’t available until tonight. And by that time, Ushijima will be home from practice and you won’t need the service anyways.

You have several options here. You could call a friend and stay with them until Ushijima gets back from practice, but they all live too far to walk to, and you don’t have your wallet. You could hang out in the apartment buildings lobby until he gets home, but if your phone dies, you’re stuck with nothing to do and no way to contact anyone.

The last option is slowly beginning to seem like your only option: calling Ushijima at practice for help. Burying your face into your hands you groan—you really don’t want to do that. Plus, you doubt he’s going to answer his phone anyways. After you sit there for a few more minutes, you take a deep breath and steel your courage. Leaving a message is better than nothing.

Despite deciding to call him, you still stare at his contact for a few moments before finally pressing the ‘call’ button. It rings a few times, then unsurprisingly goes to voicemail. When it beeps for you to leave your message, you swallow your pride and say, “Hey Ushijima, I know you’re at practice, but I locked myself out of the apartment…and the locksmith can’t come until tonight. If you by any chance get a break, would you be able to let me back in? I’d really appreciate it…sorry for the inconvenience and disrupting practice!”

Then you hang up and slump against the door again. Might as well head down to the lobby to sit somewhere more comfortable than the hallway floor. You turn the brightness down on your phone to conserve battery and resist the urge to just sit in the lobby scrolling through social media to pass the time. If he by some stroke of luck calls you back, you want to make sure your phone isn’t dead.

“Hey Ushijima, your phone was ringing in the locker room while I was in the bathroom. It was your roommate~,” Heiwajima teases. Ushijima slowly looks past his shoulder back towards the locker room door—that’s odd. You’ve never called him before. “And she left a message!” He coos.

Before Heiwajima can make any more comments, Ushijima strides past him to check his phone. They’re taking a short break and he doesn’t see a problem with making sure everything is alright. You wouldn’t have called if it weren’t important. He doesn’t see the rest of the team share suggestive looks behind his back. Before you, Ushijima refused to check his phone during practice, no matter how many messages he had (which are few and far between but still).

Upon hearing your message, he calls you back immediately.

You’re shocked that he’s calling you back within a half hour of your call.

“Uh, hi,” you say upon answering the call. “Sorry for bothering you. I’m surprised you saw my message so fast.”

“Heiwajima heard my phone ringing while he was in the bathroom.”

“Lucky me,” you joke.

He gets straight to the point. “I’ll leave now.”

Your eyes widen. He’s going to leave practice right now to let you back in? “Oh—um, you don’t have to do that! I’m just waiting in the lobby; I can wait until you have a longer break or something!”

“I can come now,” he says plainly. Then he hangs up on you. You sit back in the chair you’re sitting in and huff out a breath speechless. Never once has Ushijima left practice early. And now he’s just dipping out without hesitation because you’re a major idiot? You can’t fathom it, and the little voice in the back of your head that’s been slowly falling for him is absolutely swooning at the thought.

When he enters the gym again, Heiwajima finds him immediately, while the other members of the team look curiously on as he asks, “So, what’d she want?” Immensely interested in the fact that judging from his sweatpants and jacket over his practice clothes, Ushijima looks like he’s about to leave.

“She’s locked out of the apartment,” Ushijima explains as he heads towards the door.

The team looks around at each other surprised. They don’t get another word in as Ushijima explains to the coach the situation and says he’ll be back in less than hour. Then he’s out the door and a few of them start chuckling to themselves, while the more clueless members wonder why in the world Ushijima would willingly leave.

The gym isn’t far from the apartment, so it’s not long until you see Ushijima step through the front doors and sweep his gaze across the lobby. You greet him right away and the two of you get in the elevator. The silence is unbearable for you—though you’re sure he’s completely fine with it.

When you reach the door and he lets you in, you finally say, “Thank you. You really didn’t have to leave practice though; I could have waited.”

You swear his eyes soften, but it might just be your eyes playing tricks on you. He appreciates that you are being considerate for his time, but he found he wasn’t keen on the thought of you being locked out. It didn’t sit right with him. Not when he’s only 20 minutes away. He’ll be back in under an hour, and that’s better than you just sitting out here for several hours.

He just nods his head and says, “I’ll come anytime.”

At those words, that voice inside your head becomes a pathetic puddle and it’s an effort to keep your knees underneath you.

He can’t explain the way his heart lifts at the smile you give him. Stepping backwards into the apartment, you say as you’re closing the door, “See you when you get home.”

Home.

He’s surprised how that word coming out of your mouth makes him feel.

Any feeling of domesticity is thrown out the window the morning you’re walking around the apartment in one of his sweatshirts he lent you a few weeks back when you were cold. He’s stops in his tracks in the hallway seeing you in the kitchen at the stove cooking breakfast, his sweatshirt too big for you covering your shorts and just brushing your bare thighs.

Without giving him the chance to quell it, against his will, his dick strains against the front of his sweatpants and he rushes out the door with barely a goodbye in hopes you don’t see it. It doesn’t even go away on the train on the way to the gym, no matter how hard he tries. His thoughts subconsciously drift to the sight of you and how soft your thighs looked. It’s shocking to him how much he liked seeing you in his clothes. It was the same sort of sensation he felt when Tendo suggested you get yourself an Ushijima jersey—only it’s a hundred times worse.

He tries to ignore it, walking into the locker room like nothing is wrong, stripping his sweatpants and jacket off and shoving them into his locker before he looks around and sees Heiwajima staring at him with raised eyebrows. Then his eyes pointedly look downwards before he lifts them to meet Ushijima’s again. “You wanna deal with that before practice?”

“It’s fine.” He’s sure it’ll go away once he starts warming up.

But then his thoughts drift to you warming up and stretching in his clothes. You bending over, his sweatshirt sliding up your chest, revealing more of your ass and thighs as you count to ten. And any sort of effort he’d put forth to settle down is destroyed as his shorts feel uncomfortably tight. What is going on with him? He hasn’t been able to stop thinking of you as of late, and it’s only been getting worse.

Heiwajima just starts laughing. “Seriously dude, nobody wants to look at that all day.” Then he motions his head in the direction of the showers.

Ushijima’s eyes widen, realizing just what he’s suggesting. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually concedes. He won’t be able to play like this. Nobody seems to care as Ushijima grabs his towel and heads off to the showers, despite feeling distraught about what he’s about to do. He’s never really been one for masturbating, so it surprises him how easy it is to let you in his sweatshirt come to mind as he wraps a hand around his cock. And he comes a lot faster than he expects too.

That’s the first time he jerks off to the thought of you. He tries to brush it off as a necessity for him in order to practice well that day, but it soon becomes a terrible habit he can’t stop. Especially when you keep doing things that make him uncomfortably hard. Like still wearing those tiny shorts around the apartment, doing yoga in the living room, showing him your Ushijima jersey you finally ordered online—seriously, never in his life did he think this would ever become a problem.

He hardly knows what do with himself at this new infatuation.

Recently, you’ve started going out on dates because you’re beginning to feel this strange tension between you and Ushijima, and you have no idea how to deal with it besides letting some other guy pound you into a mattress while you ashamedly picture it being Ushijima instead. One night, when you’re bidding him goodbye as you’re on your way out the door, he asks you, “Will you be home tonight?”

Your heart stutters a bit at that word. Home. And then you feel disgustingly guilty that he’s noticed you don’t usually come back after these dates. Meaning you think even he can put the dots together on what you’re doing.

But really, he’s asking because what you’re wearing is already making his pants feel tight and even though it makes him feel a little ashamed, he needs to get his frustration out somewhere that you’re out spending the night with other guys. It makes him feel incredibly jealous—an emotion he’s not used to yet.

“Probably not,” you tell him, swallowing your pride about it and shutting the door.

For the next couple of hours, he tries to resist the demon in his head telling him to go sprawl out on his bed and think about you with his hand wrapped around his cock. But even after he makes dinner, works out, and takes a cold shower; it’s still there nagging at the back of his head. And he knows it won’t go away until he’s coming into his hand with your name spilling from his lips. He resigns himself to this becoming something he does now and heads off to his bedroom to satiate himself.

Your date is terrible. He wasn’t like this when you met him at the coffee shop last week, but tonight he must be feeling extra lucky. Enough to let his cocky, asshole nature shine through and you find yourself forcibly smiling your way through dinner. It doesn’t help that all you can think about is a certain stone-faced, stoic, gentleman who’s just sitting there waiting for you at your apartment. And just the thought of letting this guy touch you tonight makes your skin crawl. So, once the dinner is over, you end the date short, blaming it on not feeling well. He looks pretty put out that he won’t be getting his dick wet tonight, but you’re not inclined to care very much.

Unsurprisingly, the apartment is dark when you return. Ushijima goes to bed promptly at 9 o’clock every night, so you weren’t expecting to find him awake. So, you’re stunned into silence when you hear sounds emitting from his room on your way to yours. It sounds like he’s…panting? Is he working out?

Your brow furrows and your curiosity gets the better of you. You know it’s wrong, and such an invasion of privacy, but you just can’t stop your fingers closing around his doorknob, turning it slowly to just get a tiny peek into his room.

Your heart comes to a jarring halt at the sight you stumble upon.

Never, in your entire life, did you think you’d catch Ushijima Wakatoshi masturbating.

It never even occurred to you that is something he might do, not really seeming the type to.

And holy shit—is it a sight.

Your mouth involuntarily dries up at his enormous hand wrapped around his equally massive cock, pumping it from base to tip as his hips work in unison with his hand. His hair is a bit damp, and fuck—his cloudy, lust-filled gaze is making heat pool in your core. Additionally, he’s completely and utterly naked. Who the hell jerks off totally naked is beyond you, but you aren’t complaining as you watch the way the muscles of his abdomen ripple with each movement of his hips and breath he takes.

You could probably stand here watching him do this forever if you’re being honest.

That is, until your name falls from his lips.

You swear the floor drops out from under you.

At first, you think he’s caught you. But you soon realize that is very much not the case. His hips start shuddering, his pace becoming erratic as he chases his orgasm and you’re suddenly struck by the thought of: you don’t want him to finish without you.

And before you can hesitate, you open his door fully and step into his bedroom.

His reaction is nothing like you imagined from someone who just got caught masturbating by their roommate who’s name not two seconds ago escaped his mouth. Anyone else would have yanked their hand away and scrambled to cover up. But not Ushijima.

To his credit, he does cover himself, but he does so in such a calm manner, you’re shocked. Plus, you can see he clearly still has his hand around his cock beneath the blanket. The two of you just look at each other for a few moments, and after what seems like eons of silence, he opens his mouth and says, “You said you weren’t going to be home.”

Your brows raise, amused he’s chosen that as his defense. “I think I said, ‘probably not’ actually.”

His expression doesn’t change as your gaze drifts downwards towards his impressive erection that somehow has not gone away despite that he’s lying there in all his naked glory caught red-handed.

You lick your lips subconsciously. “Can I help you?”

He wasn’t expecting that. Nor was he expecting the way his dick twitched in his grasp at your words. Or how heat is spreading across his entire body at the way you’re looking at him. Is he really going to let this happen? He’s pretty embarrassed you caught him, but you don’t seem phased at all. To him, you almost look…excited.

You don’t really wait for him to respond, taking the way he eyes you up hungrily as a yes, and stepping further into the room. Tentatively, you start lifting away the blanket he covered himself with, and he seems to be in a daze as you toss it aside, baring him for you to see. Glancing up at him, you see he’s breathing heavily, his pupils blown wide as he watches you—and while he may not be able to tell you with words how he feels, his body is telling you enough.

But you still want to make sure. Settling yourself between his thighs, you set a hand on each of them and squeeze lightly to get his attention. His olive gaze rises to meet yours and you ask, “Is this okay?”

Without hesitation, he replies, “Yes.”

And if you know Ushijima at all, he means what he says.

You get yourself a bit more comfortable between his legs, chastely kissing each of his thighs, finding it immensely ego boosting at the way they tremble at your touch. You make your way to the base of his cock and lick one stripe up to the tip. He groans quietly at the sensation, realizing his hand will never be enough again.

His fists curl into the sheets beneath him as you take his head into your mouth, and you fail to suppress the quiet groan that emits from you at how heavy he sits on your tongue. Your mind immediately wandering to what he might feel like inside you—if this goes that far, that is. His eyes haven’t left you, watching you intently as you take more of him into your mouth, the weight of his heady gaze making heat pool between your legs.

Steeling your confidence, you hold his stare as you take nearly all of him into your mouth and start bobbing along his length. A barely audible hiss escapes him, the muscles in his arms straining with how hard he’s fisting the sheets. Yet, you still have his rapt attention, and it makes you want to make him feel so good he has to close his eyes and lean his head back against his pillow.

The thought of having Ushijima Wakatoshi a puddle beneath you makes your thighs clench together. An action that surprisingly doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

In a matter of minutes, you’ve made him throw all qualms out the window and you soon get your wish of seeing him let go. His eyes close, head leaning back revealing the strong column of his neck, and his hips start to move in tandem with your bobbing motions. A guttural groan escapes him when you hollow out your cheeks, and the sound rumbles through you before adding to the growing ache between your legs.

You can’t imagine he’s even close to reaching the end of his stamina, but you are certainly losing patience. So, you pop off his cock, and start making the motions to undress so you can finally fulfill your fantasy of riding him.

He startles you by lifting himself to rest on his elbows, his deep voice filling the silence, “Wait.” You pause, your dress already halfway off. He sits up and pulls you into his lap, completely unbothered by the fact your clothed core is now sitting directly atop his prominent erection. “Let me,” he says so softly you think you might combust.

His hands replace yours, and he gingerly unzips the back of your dress and starts sliding it off your shoulders, each inch of newly exposed skin met by the soft press of his lips. You have no idea if he’s ever been with anyone before, but whatever he’s doing is making your insides scramble and burn. His movements are slow and meticulous, like he’s savoring each touch are you’re positively melting in his lap.

Eventually, you have to stand up to shimmy the dress down your legs, but he sits at the edge of the bed waiting patiently before his large hands rest at your hips and pull you back into his lap. Now you’re looking down at him, so you lean down and press your lips against his.

He’s somewhere else entirely—heaven, maybe, as you kiss him. Your lips are soft, body pliant and warm against his as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your hips. He groans involuntarily when your fingers slide into the hair at the base of his neck, tilting his head so you can kiss him even deeper. You’re pleasantly surprised when his tongue darts out questioningly and you happily open your mouth for him.

I’m doomed, you think as his tongue sweeps in at the same time he uses his hands at your waist to grind you down onto his hips. He feels absolutely huge beneath you, and you have no idea if he will even fucking fit inside you. “Fuck…Wakatoshi,” you breathe. His fingers grip a little harder at your voice saying his name like that, but you’re too dazed to notice what it does to him. You continue, “Fuck me, please.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment you think he’s going to comply with your request. Instead, he murmurs, “Not yet.”

You almost pout, but then he’s unclasping your bra and lifting you to set you down on the bed. He doesn’t waste much time ridding you of your underwear next, and you have to resist the urge to cover yourself as he stares at you with a near predatory look in his eyes. “You’re perfect,” he says, clear as day and you feel heat course through your veins at his words.

He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world to him right now. The intensity of his wanton gaze making you squirm beneath it until he lays his body over yours, the comforting weight of him pressing against your skin as he takes your lips again. He elicits a moan from you, his fingers dancing along your sides and his tongue sweeping into your mouth, making you nothing more than a trembling mess underneath him.

His lips leave yours, but he slowly begins trailing kisses along your jaw, down your neck and across your collarbone; almost as if he’s worshipping every inch of your skin before he reaches your breasts. He takes both of them into his enormous hands, the callouses of his fingers scratching along the supple flesh, making your back arch into his touch. Pressing a chaste kiss to your sternum, he rolls your nipples between his fingers, all while keeping his steady gaze on you. And you have no idea how the simple action of him just teasing your nipples while pinning you with those olive eyes is so unbelievably erotic your head begins to feel light.

And then he takes one of them into his mouth and you about lose your goddamn mind. How the fuck does he know exactly what to do? In the time you’ve known him you’ve never once seen him be even remotely interested in anyone. But at this point, you’re well past the point of caring how he learned his way around a woman’s body.

His tongue laps at the pert bud, all while he keeps his meticulous pace on your other nipple before turning the attention of his mouth to it. Without thinking much of it, your fingers dive into his hair, curling into the strands as he continues his worshipping. Though it does pull a deep rumble of pleasure from his chest that goes straight between your legs.

“Wakatoshi,” you pant breathlessly, chest heaving, desperate for him to do something about the growing ache at the apex of your thighs.

This time, he seems to heed your words. He pops off your breast and wanders with his lips down the expanse of your stomach, his hands finding purchase at your hips as he settles himself between your thighs. Your thighs tremble in anticipation as he presses soft kisses to each of them, fingers kneading your hips and pulling you closer to his mouth.

Never in your life did you think you’d have Ushijima Wakatoshi between your legs, looking for all the world like he’s about to devour you.

He groans as he slides his tongue between your folds, drunk on how wet you already are. And despite the fact his cock is throbbing almost painfully and leaking on the sheets, he knows to take his time. If you want him to fuck you, he has to make sure you’re ready for him.

You throw your head back, fingers fisting into the sheets as a lewd moan escapes your throat that only makes him bury his face even deeper into you. His tongue finds the bundle of nerves at the apex and sweeps across it, moving in small circles that have you finding purchase in his hair to keep him there as you move your hips in unison with his tongue.

A loud gasp fills the air as one of his thick fingers enters you, the ministrations of his tongue not stopping as he slowly pumps it in and out of your core. He’s kept his attention on you this entire time, his gaze never wavering as he watches you fall apart at his mercy. And he finds he’s thoroughly pleased at how easily his finger slipped into you, enough that he tentatively prods another one at your entrance that after a moment slides in without any resistance.

It’s so satisfying that he buries his face even deeper, his tongue pressing harder against your clit as you fuck yourself on his fingers. At the sensation of his second finger, your own find purchase in his hair, babbling utter nonsense that if you were in a clearer state of mind you might be a little embarrassed about.

“Please,” you beg, desperate for his cock inside you, “fuck me Wakatoshi. I want you inside me.”

He nearly falls apart at your needy request, but he isn’t finished yet.

You continue to plead with him, until you abruptly feel the absence of his tongue and you look down to find him staring intensely at you. Your throat clams up at his smoldering gaze as he says simply, “You aren’t ready.”

Your mouth drops open as you blink in surprise. Is he joking? Are you not frantically fucking yourself on his fingers right now, desperately asking for him to be inside you? How can you possibly be anymore ‘ready’?

“What are you talking about?”

Now his eyes drop, and very quietly he murmurs, “I’ve been told I am…quite large.”

“By who?” You blurt.

All he says is, “Others.”

You decide to leave it at that, your attention traveling to his erect cock, it pulsing so hard you can almost see it and dripping from the tip. You swallow nervously trying to imagine that going inside you. Ushijima just watches you eye him, his two fingers still knuckle deep in you, which he seems to have forgotten about as he angles his head in question. “Do you want to keep going?”

Warmth blooms in your chest at his concern. “I would very much like to,” you reply, smiling innocently at him, despite the fact the position you’re in is very much the opposite of innocent.

And the answering small smile he gives you makes your stomach flutter. It’s so soft and dazzling, it nearly knocks all the breath out of you. He presses his lips to your inner thigh, smiling against your skin, and all you can do is stare in awe of him.

Then, as if remembering where is fingers still are, he drags them slowly out of you, his mouth latching on to your clit once again before sliding them easily back in. Soon, he’s got you writhing on his fingers once more, toes curling and your own fingers gripping onto his bicep you can feel flexing with each thrust of his hand.

He waits a bit longer, until his fingers are soaked with your wetness again, before tentatively prodding a third finger at your entrance. He stifles his groan against you when he finds that it slips in along with the others effortlessly. Particularly as the grip you have on his biceps tightens, nails digging into his skin and eyes flaring open at the new sensation.

“Fu—fuck,” you mewl, holding on to him for dear life as he continues his slow and methodical pace. At this point, you’re practically shoving yourself onto his fingers, wanting him to fuck you deeper and trying to match the pace at which his tongue is flicking against your clit. The sensation becomes overwhelming, your thighs starting to tremble with the effort to not come around his fingers and mouth.

“Wakatoshi, please—I’m going to—,” you try to warn him, nails digging so hard into his arms that you’re leaving small crescent indents in his skin. He doesn’t stop though, not until you’re practically sobbing, “Let me come on your cock, please.”

That seems to be his undoing. His fingers and mouth abruptly leave you, eliciting a small sound of discontent from you. But you quickly shut your mouth at the sight of him leaning over you, aligning his hips with yours, one massive hand palmed around his cock as he pushes forward.

When the head of his cock sinks into you, a strangled gasp rips from your throat at just how utterly massive he is. Instinctively, your fingers wrap around his wrist to keep him from going any deeper as you say, “Slow.”

His brow is furrowed in concentration, as if it’s taking all of his willpower to keep from snapping his hips forward and sinking to the hilt in you. “Of course,” he growls, his voice taking on a deep tone that makes your toes curl.

And inch by glorious inch, he pushes deeper into you. His forearms coming to rest on either side of your head as he takes your lips to distract you from him nearly splitting you wide open. You tug him closer, fingers tangling in his olive hair, slanting your mouth against his and slipping your tongue inside which he gladly allows.

Eventually, his hips meet yours, and he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours, his toned chest rising and falling with the deep breaths he has to take in order to keep his sanity. The feeling of your tight walls clamping down around him is enough to make him hiss through his teeth, “Shit.”

The word alone makes heat pool in your core. Ushijima Wakatoshi never swears.

“Holy fucking shit.” You correct him. He’s seated fully inside you and you’ve never felt so full in your entire life. Your legs splayed out to either side from just how big he is, and once glance down confirms his thick thighs are shaking with the effort to be gentle.

He just shakes his head at your crass words, then pulls out slightly before ramming his hips back into yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him close to you, your chest meeting his and his head finding the crook of your neck and he begins slowly. And while you’re very much enjoying each of his careful, deep thrusts, you very much would like to be pounded into his mattress. You’re certain he can.

You wonder if he’ll dirty talk with you.

Running your fingers through his dampening hair, you whisper against his ear, “You feel so good, Wakatoshi.” He merely responds with a kiss against your neck and a small approving growl that makes you keep going. “You know what I thought about anytime I was in someone else’s bed?” He makes no indication whether or not he likes you talking to him, so you press on. “This,” you murmur, “You.”

He stops, and for a second you think you’ve gone too far. But then he rises from your neck, and you swear to god—you almost come on the spot at the carnal glint gleaming in his eyes. Like he is about to utterly and completely destroy you. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation as he finally draws his cock almost all the way out of you before driving his hips home in a way that sends you into total euphoria.

His pace becomes brutal, his hips punishing, wordlessly making you realize it was a mistake for you to ever think anyone but him should be between your legs. It was pure luck you stumbled onto something you didn’t realize—he was immensely jealous every time you came home in the morning, clearly having spent the night with someone else.

It drives him so wild that he growls against your lips, “You’re mine.”

The words are so deliciously possessive, you can’t help the way your walls tighten around him, nor how your legs wrap around his waist and start helping him with each thrust of his hips.

“Yours,” you say, lips brushing against his. His hands wander down your sides, fingers digging into your hips pulling you even closer so that there is virtually no space between your bodies. He’s resting almost his entire weight on you, and his warmth and build is so strangely erotic, the coil in your stomach winds tighter and you can feel your impending orgasm begin to climb.

He cages you in his arms, hips never relenting, seemingly chasing his own release. His quiet grunts of pleasure are going straight between your legs, and you can’t help but start exploring the expanse of his exquisitely toned chest pulling an even deeper sigh from him making you almost melt on the spot. Your hands eventually find a place to rest in the dimples of his hips, relishing the sensation of his muscles moving beneath your fingers.

He refuses to finish before you, no matter how unbelievably tight you’re pulsating around him. So, he reaches between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, pride filling his chest at how you moan lewdly; your head falling back and fingers grappling even harder onto his hips. He takes the opportunity to press kisses to your throat, shoulders, collarbone—any expanse of skin he can get his mouth on.

“Fuck—yes,” you groan, hands leaving his hips to weave their way into his hair, using your legs to push him even deeper and meeting each of his thrusts with your own. You start quivering under him, your body preparing for the onslaught of pleasure rising in your chest, threatening to snap at any moment.

You come completely undone when Ushijima commands, “Come for me.”

Something about his husky, lust filled tone; his lips making their mark all over your skin, and the harsh thrust of his hips sends you over the edge. Your body bows off the bed, and Ushijima meets you, his arms wrapping around your middle to press you against his chest as his lips latch onto your neck and he buries himself to the hilt in your wet heat.

For the second time tonight, he curses quietly, holding you to him as your walls pulse with your orgasm and he finds his own release alongside you. You hold on to his shoulders for dear life as waves of pleasure roll through you, your body spasming in his grip all while he kisses you softly. It’s tender and erotic at the same time. As you start to calm down, he claims your lips, tongue sweeping in as you push his damp hair off his forehead before cupping his cheeks.

He pulls away from you, only to set his forehead against yours, your warm breath mingling. Both of your chests are still heaving, and although it’s silent, it’s comforting as he holds you.

After a moment, you open your eyes and find his closed, his lips curved into a barely noticeable smile. It fills your heart seeing him look so…content. “Wakatoshi?” You say quietly. His eyes open and your throat closes at just how handsome he is. “I…I like you.” Your eyes close now, embarrassed at how pathetic that sounded.

“I’d hope so.”

Your eyes burst open finding him looking at you comically seriously. You know he doesn’t mean it as a joke, but you can’t help the smile that rises to your lips. He gazes at you curiously as you ask, “And? Do you like me?” As if his softening dick isn’t still inside you right now.

Though, it still makes your heart flip when he replies without hesitation, “Yes.”

“Good.” You grin. “I’d hope so.”

You kiss him again before he finally pulls out of you and without a word, he gets off the bed and disappears out into the hallway. You grimace at the mess between your legs but are pleasantly surprised when he returns with a warm towel to clean yourself up with. While you deal with the mess, he rummages around in his drawers and at first you think he’s looking for clothes for himself, until he hands you a pair of his briefs and a t-shirt.

You must eye them curiously because he sets them on the bed saying, “Sleep with me.” He doesn’t word it like a question.

Taking the clothes, you smile teasingly up at him. “I just did.”

To nobody’s surprise, he’s relatively unfazed. “Overnight,” he explains further. “In my bed.” Though the light dusting of pink coloring his cheeks as he says this makes you want to smother him with kisses all over again.

You slip on his clothes and climb beneath the sheets as your response. You watch him dress, marveling over the muscles shifting in his back and arms until he covers them and joins you in the bed. He draws you close to his side, letting you run your fingers across his cheek before settling at his chin and pulling his lips to yours. You kiss lazily until you both grow tired and you tuck your head under his chin, letting his fingers intertwine with yours and enjoying the affectionate kiss he presses to the top of your head.

He surprises you when he says into the silence, “Are we going to do that again?”

The chuckle that escapes you is by no means meant to be mean. He just fucked you better than anyone in your entire life and if you were in deep shit falling for him before this—you’re doomed now. Yet, you don’t mind in the slightest. Not when being here in his arms feels exactly where you should be.

So, you kiss his neck and reply softly, “Yes.”

You don’t see his answering smile.

taglist: @bobawithpomegranate @anothermessedupbitch @abswrites @toorus-goodgirl @apollochjld @vicassa @sssjuico10

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi reader-insert #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader-insert #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu!!#ushijima wakatoshi imagine #ushijima wakatoshi scenario #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #ushijima imagine #ushijima x reader

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selfindulgentpoorlywritten · 3 years ago

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Surprise

Okay I’m soooo late, I’m sorry! This is my submission for @antoineroussel ‘s Summer Fic Exchange! I managed to dislocate my shoulder (again) and then get myself and half my house sick in the last week, so I’m so grateful for Demi and Emma’s patience <3 @leafs-forever , I hope you enjoy!

Rating: T (language)

Pairing: Kirby Dach/Reader

Words: 1599

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Kirby get ready for the NHL Awards.

Luckily, you had started getting ready before Kirby got home. You’re used to getting ready beside him, but it takes you longer to prepare for a fancy event. Getting dolled up isn’t as easy as people make it out to be.

By the time he gets home, you’ve already showered and are in the process of doing your hair. You keep it simple, just cleaning it up a bit and putting in some product to make it shine for the cameras. You can hear Kirby moving around, hanging up his bag and probably grabbing a glass of water. With the amount of water that boy drinks, you’d think he’d live in the bathroom.

“Hey, baby,” he greets when the two of you meet in the bedroom. He plants a lingering kiss on your lips, smile soft and relieved as he looks into your eyes. That look never fails to make your heart melt, touched by the way that he feels relaxed and safe around you.

You’ve been together for quite a few years, which is probably how you move around each other so easily. He strips and throws his clothes into the hamper on his way to the shower, and you take the opportunity to smack his ass as he passes by. He jumps and tries to give you a scolding look, but the smile glued to his face gives him away.

Needing to shower multiple times in a day has made him quick with it, so he’s out in time to zip your dress. You’ve already put your jewelry on, just a classy silver necklace-bracelet combo and a few different sized fashion rings. You like the way that they sit at different parts of your fingers, highlighting your hands and making your fingers look long and elegant.

You had tried to convince Kirby to wear something interesting, rather than just a plain black suit. It had kind of worked. The suit was still black, but it had a black satin trim with a subtle pattern that gave the whole look a little something special. The NHL Awards is supposed to be a fancy event, so he didn’t want to do anything too crazy.

You’d been to the award ceremony a couple times before, when teammates and friends had won honors. This was the first time Kirby himself was getting one, and you’re beyond proud. The Art Ross was a huge deal, and it was amazing to have Kirby officially alongside the likes of Gordie Howe and Mario Lemieux.

Once your dress is zipped, you head back into the bathroom to do your makeup. You know it’ll have to be a bit more dramatic and involved to show well on the cameras, so you take your time to get it right. You chat with Kirby through the door as he finishes air drying on the bed, sharing about your days as you usually do when you’re both home.

He’s half dressed by time you finish your makeup, fanning your face to make your setting spray dry faster. You head out into the kitchen to get yourself some water and kill a few minutes until Kirby finishes dressing and doing his hair.

“Can you grab my cufflinks, please?” He calls from the bathroom, “They’re in my bag.” You shout back an affirmative, making your way to the entryway.

His bag hangs next to yours, so you take it down, sitting on the floor to root through it. While your bag is organized neatly so that you can find things easily, Kirby’s backpack is a disaster. You take out clothes, push past empty Tupperware containers, finally finding a velvet box all the way at the bottom. It isn’t until you’ve pulled it out that you realize it’s far too small to be a cufflink case. Plus, you see an appropriately sized box leaning against a notebook at the bottom.

First things first, you grab the larger box to check inside. The cuff links are there, so you set it aside to bring to him. You take a few deep breaths to calm your suddenly racing heart. It doesn’t work. The weight of the small box in your hand feels immense, and lifting the lid is a Herculean effort.

The ring is silver, or maybe platinum or palladium. There are two gemstones as the centerpiece, a garnet and sapphire, entwined with a twisting infinity symbol that morphs into the band. His and your favorite stones, tied together perfectly. It’s beautiful.

That motherfucker.

Yes, you’re happy that he’s planning to propose, ecstatic even. Kirby is the love of your life, and you’ve intended to be with him as long as he’ll allow, ring or not. But yeah, the ring is a nice assurance.

Back to why he’s an asshole. He’s had this ring in his bag for who knows how long. Are you mad that he hasn’t already proposed? No. That he’s given no hint that this was coming? Nah. You’re mad because the ring you got for him has been sitting in your underwear drawer for weeks, and this jerk was going to beat you to the punch. Steal your thunder. Well, he’s got another thing coming.

You’ve been waiting for just the right moment to pop the question, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been procrastinating out of anxiety. Yeah, he’s your soulmate, but there’s still that annoying bit of fear that he could possibly say no. You’d thought about proposing tonight after the ceremony, or maybe behind the scenes after he received his award. You can’t seem to remember why you decided against it.

You pocket the ring box and shove everything back into his bag. Maybe you shouldn’t have sat on the floor in your dress, but you can always have Kirby dust you off if needed. Before you go to him, you open your top drawer as quietly as you can manage. You know exactly where the box is, so it only takes a second to grab.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest as you take another steadying breath on your way to the bathroom. He turns to you when you enter, hair fluffy and suit slightly rumpled. Even after all your time together, he still takes your breath away.

“Thank you, love,” he says when you hand him the cufflink case. He turns back to the mirror to check his hair one last time, before looking down to focus on getting his cuffs properly buttoned. You take a step to the right to ensure that you’re out of his line of sight, carefully adjusting your skirt as you go to one knee.

“You ready?” he asks, turning to where you were just standing. His left hand freezes where it’s tugging his shirt cuff into place, mouth falling open slightly when he sees you on the floor. You raise the box in your shaking hands, forgetting everything you’d been planning to say for the past month.

“Yeah,” you say instead, “I’m ready.” You open the box to present the ring, hoping you don’t sweat your makeup off in anticipation.

“Me too,” he replies, smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen. You’re glad that you don’t have your heels on yet, because you spring up from the ground to wrap him in your arms. Your smiles make kissing difficult, but you can’t seem to stop, anyway. You bury your face in his neck after, glad you’d used a lot of setting spray. A makeup faceprint on his suit would be kind of funny, but probably wouldn’t look the best.

“So, do I get that ring at some point, or?” Kirby teases. You punch his shoulder lightly.

“I don’t know, do I get an official yes?” you quip back, already taking the ring out of the holder.

“Yes, you do,” he says confidently, “And yes, I do.” You have to kiss him again for that one. The ring fits perfectly when you slide it onto his finger, hoping he can feel the garnet embedded into the inside of the black band. He kisses you once more afterward, and you can tell he’s squealing with joy on the inside just as much as you are.

“I have to go grab something,” he says, pulling away, “You’re not gonna believe this.” He doesn’t get two steps away before you grab his hand, turning him back toward you. You pull the second ring box out of your pocket, going for a smug smile but probably just looking like a dork.

“You mean this?” you ask, reveling in his shocked expression. Now it’s his turn to punch your shoulder, laughing brightly.

“You’re the worst!” he says, grinning nevertheless. He snatches the box out of your hand while you laugh.

“Turn around,” he orders, “I gotta surprise you too!” You only laugh harder at that, barely able to force yourself to settle as he turns you by the shoulders to face the opposite direction. Once he says “okay”, you turn back to him, giving the most over dramatic performance of your life as you act surprised. You’re both laughing too much for him to get much out, though you’re sure he had a planned speech too.

The ring sliding over your skin is an amazing feeling, but nothing compares to the way he wraps his arms around you once again, resting your foreheads together. You lose track of time looking into his eyes, amazed that you’ve somehow managed to find someone so perfect for you.

Now you have to call your mom so she doesn’t find out through an article. Oops.

#kirby dach imagine #nhl imagines #RI #andis coping mechanism #this is the only time I will ever write for the hawks #please do not ask me to write for them #this is a special circumstance 😂

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zintranslations · 4 years ago

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Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 108

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 108: False Answers

Generously sharing hints inside the door wasn't much of a good thing at all, at least for the owners of the hints.

Because once you’d shared your hint, you’d exposed your own strength. The more difficult the door, the more true this was.

The more toward the end you were, the more difficult it was to get hints at all. So going public with a hint might make you a target, someone everybody was on their guard against. You might even be subject to sabotage.

Plus, without peculiar circumstances, nobody would want to share their hard-won hints anyways.

But the door before them obviously had to be an exception, because if they didn't tell the others the rules of the game, then those who died and became Hakobito would increase the difficulty of their escape.

"Are we going to tell them?" Lin Qiushi asked. "What happens if we just announce it like this?"

"We have to tell them no matter what." Though he'd heard the scream, Ruan Nanzhu wasn't distressed at all. "But there's no rush. They're all shrewd old things, even if I tell them everything they might not believe me."

As the three spoke, they returned to the foyer they were in before, and saw that someone had opened a chest in the corner. Inside the chest was something like a stethoscope. Someone had taken it out, and was examining it closely. That was an item available for use inside the Hako Onna game, Lin Qiushi recalled. He didn't think someone would be lucky enough to open up an item immediately.

"Who screamed just now?" Liang Miye eyed the stethoscope, then looked elsewhere.

"It was me…" a girl said meekly. "I was just getting ready to go check out the kitchen with them, but then I saw something in the crack of the door. I think it was a- a little girl wearing a dress. I couldn't stop myself, and screamed."

This girl was obviously a newbie, nervous-looking and by all appearances inexperienced.

After hearing her explanation, a few of the veterans had on peculiar expressions. They wanted nothing more than to stay as far away as possible from those things—only newbies got so foolishly close and offered up their heads like that.

Lin Qiushi took the opportunity to look around, quickly counting up the proportion of newbies to veterans.

Of the twenty-three, at least four in that group of seven were newbies; dazed bewilderment was still visible on their faces.

Minus these seven, there were likely also some newbies in the remaining sixteen. Which was to say, more than one group had brought newbies into this door. So the newbie count was between eleven and twelve, about half-and-half with the vets.

Actually, upon closer thought, it was easy to understand how people could risk other people's lives like this.

There was a limited number of death conditions. To test and identify one meant being able to avoid it. Testing these conditions with other people's lives was the easiest method.

"Can you not just open random chests?" Among the old hands, there were already some who couldn't watch these newbies mess around anymore. "Look—these chests are everywhere, so they must have some sort of special function. If you keep randomly opening them, shit's definitely going to go wrong!"

"What can go wrong!" The one who'd obtained the stethoscope was a young man, bravely swaggering about with a poor attitude. "I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?"

"You might be fine now, but who knows about later." The one with all the suspicions seemed to be called Sun Yuanzhou. The twist of his head was cold as he spoke to the leader of this newbie pack: "You brought them in. Get a grip on them, will you?"

The one who'd brought the bunch of newbies in this time was a middle-aged man named Wei Xiude. His face was unremarkable, and by appearance alone, seemed friendly and congenial. But evidently, to have brought in so many newbies, he wasn't at all a good person.

"Alright, alright." Wei Xiude at least knew to speak well. "I'll take care of them. Xiao Ji, don't open anymore chests. It won't be good if something happens. It's dangerous inside the door after all."

"Like anything will happen," the young man called Xiao Ji spoke impatiently. "You're too wimpy. No risk no rewards…"

As he spoke, he lifted his hand to open another chest.

"Wait—" Lin Qiushi spoke up to stop him.

But Xiao Ji naturally wouldn't listen to Lin Qiushi. In a single breath, he opened up two more chests. Fortunately, his luck was good: one chest had a slip of paper in it, and the other was empty.

"What's this?" Xiao Ji picked up the paper, and read it out loud. "False Answers…" There seemed to be only those two words on the paper, and no other information. He muttered, "the hell is this?"

He tossed the paper aside onto a table.

"Don't open any more." Seeing that Xiao Ji wasn't planning to quit opening chests, Ruan Nanzhu finally spoke up. "If I'm not wrong, this should be a tabletop game I've played before, called Hako Onna. If you keep opening up chests like this, something nasty really will pop out."

At this, Xiao Ji's hands finally stopped. He said, "What? Why didn't you say so earlier!"

Ruan Nanzhu shrugged. "You moved too quickly. As if I had time to."

Because of Ruan Nanzhu's words, all eyes in the house were now on him. Some looked energized, some doubting, some suspicious.

"You mean we're playing a game right now? Have you played it before?" Sun Yuanzhou got the point quickly.

"A few times." Ruan Nanzhu sat down on the sofa and leaned back. "I couldn't be sure when I first came in, so I went upstairs to find some key items. I'm sure now that it's that game."

Everybody gathered around, waiting for his next words.

Ruan Nanzhu very simply explained the rules. In the heavy chests was a ghoul, and opening them up at random could very well release it. Humans caught by the ghoul became Hakobito—box people—who continue on to sabotage the survivors.

Regarding the rules, Ruan Nanzhu hid nothing. He gave detailed descriptions from beginning to end, and answered many people's questions. But it was as he predicted—though he kept up an earnest attitude, the veterans didn't simply believe everything he told them.

"According to what you said, we can just not open chests??" someone spoke up in the group, questioning Ruan Nanzhu. "That's what you mean? That if we don't open any chests, nothing will happen? You said the safe has a four-digit passcode. Though there are ten thousand combinations, as long as we spend some time testing it we'll get it right eventually!"

Ruan Nanzhu turned a palm to the sky. "I'm only telling you the rules from the game I've played, not what the rules are here. There must have been changes, but I don't know what those changes are either."

"Let's count up how many chests are in this house total," a young woman said. Though she didn't look very old, she was seasoned. "I'm Yin Xinyi, pleasure working with you." She extended a hand to Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu shook it. "I'm Zhu Meng."

"On the first day, the Hako Onna will cry once," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Where her cry comes from is where she's located. After that, she'll only cry when she wants to obtain a power…"

"Power?" Yin Xinyi asked.

"Yes. He's opened one up already." Ruan Nanzhu pointed at Xiao Ji. "False Answers."

Muttering broke out among the crowd, many asking what exactly this meant.

"In the tabletop, it's one of Hako Onna's powers," Ruan Nanzhu said. "It means the player who plays Hako Onna can lie."

Yin Xinyi, "lie? She can answer our questions?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "in reality, yes. As for here, I don't know what sort of derivative effect the power will have."

"We'll rest for today." Sun Yuanzhou's personality leaned toward dominant, taking up leadership among the group. "It's already after ten, and things are more likely to happen at night. Let's discuss this in more detail tomorrow."

"Okay," most agreed with Sun Yuanzhou's suggestion.

Then everybody began splitting into rooms.

There were three floors in the mansion. Floor one held the functional rooms, like the kitchen. Floors two and three were mostly bedrooms, with studies and bathrooms among them. There was also a large balcony, though it was sealed up by cement.

There were no rules about how many people could stay together, but most went for two to three per room—Lin Qiushi's group as well.

As the night got deeper, the mansion went hazy in the darkness.

Steel boards hammered over the windows blocked out most of the sun. Then, thick drapes like curtains at a show's finale sectioned away the remaining light. The lights in the hallway were a dim red, making the whole area seem like a darkroom or something. It was quite discomfiting.

The room Lin Qiushi and company were staying in was also filled with chests.

They had done a rough count. In the entire mansion, there were at least two hundred wooden chests, each about half a meter tall, neatly placed in every single corner of the house; they had a collective presence that was difficult to ignore.

It was in a chest like this that a girl, with her body all twisted up, could be hidden. At the thought, nobody wanted to take a second glance.

After washing up, the three got in bed. Ruan Nanzhu took the bed by the wall and could see the mass of chests with a mere turn of his head.

Before they slept, the three discussed some things.

"What happens if I don't open any chests?" Liang Miye said. "If nobody opens them, then nobody dies?"

"As if," Ruan Nanzhu said. "There'll definitely be a catch for us in here." They just didn't know what that catch was at the moment.

The doors would never allow them to unconditionally waste time inside, unless…there was only one person left inside this door.

"What kind of catch?" Liang Miye said. "But forcing our moves is good actually, or we're all left hoping others will gamble on their own lives."

Every time you opened a chest was a wager; who knew what would come out?

Ruan Nanzhu made a sound of agreement.

Lin Qiushi's attention was also on the chests, though he was thinking about that stethoscope the guy took during the day. The stethoscope was a game item, but could only be used once a day. It could determine whether or not the Hako Onna was in a chest, because if she was, the stethoscope would pick up soft sounds.

It was a very important item, but it was now in somebody else's hands.

Ah, this really was a game of luck, Lin Qiushi thought. As someone who'd never even won a simple five-yuan lottery, his luck truly wasn't all that impressive.

Plus, with their lives as the gambling chips, they could hardly afford it.

Late in the evening, Lin Qiushi still couldn't sleep well. Around three in the morning, a horrible scream came from downstairs, waking everybody from their dreams.

Lin Qiushi came awake in an instant, opening his eyes and meeting Ruan Nanzhu's gaze.

"Something happened?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Let's go see. Downstairs."

Liang Miye had woken up as well, and said, "that was the second floor, right? Don't tell me somebody got bored enough of living and decided to open a chest?" Ruan Nanzhu had explained it thoroughly enough during the day. If, after all that, someone still wanted to risk their life to open a chest, then Liang Miye really had nothing more to say.

But the annoying thing about newbies was their unpredictability. Under the oppressive weight of terror, no one knew what stupid move they would make next.

The crying and wailing didn't stop. When they got to the second floor, they could still hear the sounds coming through the door.

"Aaaah, it hurts, help me, help me!! Aaah—" The screams were chilling. Several people were currently stood outside that doorway. A sweeping look told Lin Qiushi that these were all veterans, including Sun Yuanzhou. He pushed at the door, then said, "it's locked. I'll go grab something."

"No need, I got it." Ruan Nanzhu slowly approached the door, bent down, and got to unlocking it.

Everybody's eyes were fixed on him. Moments later, the lock clicked open, and the room inside was revealed to them.

The room was already empty. The cries were coming from inside a wooden chest. Not only were there cries emanating from the chest, but also a dull banging, as if the person inside wanted to beat their way out.

"Save me, please save me, I don't want to die…" The closer they got, the more nerve-wracking the sound became.

"Who was staying in this room?" Ruan Nanzhu asked. As he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the chest beside this one. "They opened a chest."

"Fucker." Sun Yuanzhou seemed pissed off, angrily spinning around and going to the room next door. He banged on it until he'd woken up the people inside. "Wei Xiude, get your ass out here now! Were the people in this room with you?!"

Moments later, the room door opened and Wei Xiude walked out. He said, "what are you talking about, 'with me'?"

"In that room!" Sun Yuanzhou jabbed a finger at the room where the incident occurred.

Looking at that room, Wei Xiude's brow lightly puckered. "Yes, there are two of them in there." He seemed to comprehend something. "Something happened to them?"

Sun Yuanzhou spat a curse.

Wei Xiude saw everybody's eyes on him, none very friendly, and he laughed somewhat awkwardly.

"My apologies, I'll give them all a stern reminder for sure. But they haven't been in many doors and some of them don't know the rules…"

Sun Yuanzhou, icily, "mind your own people, or don't blame me for coming after you."

Then he walked off, seeming thoroughly disgusted with Wei Xiude.

Which was fair. A normal tenth door was difficult enough, but the newbies Wei Xiude brought in managed to ruck up the gameplay level to difficult-as-hell.

Nobody was in a good mood at this moment. The looks they shot Wei Xiude were also filled with distaste. Behavior like Wei Xiude's had always been contemptible. Inside the door however, every one could really only sweep the snow from their own front porches; they had no wherewithal to mind anybody else. But if Wei Xiude'd actions proved detrimental to everybody's interests, then that was another matter altogether.

The chest was still wailing at a head-splitting volume.

Lin Qiushi found some items that were left behind around the chest. Judging by the quantity, it hadn't just been one person dragged into the chest by the Hako Onna.

People dying meant an increase in the number of Hakobito; the risk of opening a chest had once again increased.

Lin Qiushi let out a breath, thinking things really were getting tricky.

It was the dead of night at this point. Most likely, nobody got any sleep since that chest wailed on for the entire evening. It was only by morning of the next day that the noise gradually weakened, then finally disappeared.

Lin Qiushi still couldn't understand—Ruan Nanzhu had clearly told them not to open chests for no reason. Why would people still break the taboo? Did they really just believe they would be lucky enough?

After a sleepless night, nobody looked very well. The experienced veterans were mostly fine—it was those who'd been hoodwinked in who looked on the verge of collapse. One girl just curled up in a corner sobbing.

Breakfast appeared by itself in the dining room. It wasn't too bad. Though Lin Qiushi didn't have much of an appetite, he still forced himself to eat some.

It was Ruan Nanzhu whose attention kept wandering. He seemed to be thinking something over. Halfway through eating, he said he wanted to go to the bathroom, and Lin Qiushi said, "I'll go with you."

"Sure," Ruan Nanzhu chuckled. "I'm actually a bit nervous."

Bathrooms in the mansion were all stalls with no distinction for gender. Lin Qiushi stood outside to wait, but after a while, he heard a strange noise coming from inside the bathroom.

Lin Qiushi leaned in closer, and upon realizing what the noise was, his expression changed. The noise…was coming from Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu seemed to be quietly keening, and in that keen were weak cries for help.

Lin Qiushi rushed inside the bathroom, calling out, "Zhu Meng, Zhu Meng, are you alright?!"

He wanted to open the stall door, but found that it was locked. He fished out his tools in a hurry, and popped the lock on the stall in a couple of swift motions.

Once the door was open, he could see inside. There was nobody there. Beside the toilet, there was a black wooden chest. There was no lock on it—it could be opened with a simple lift.

But Ruan Nanzhu's voice was coming from inside the chest.

Lin Qiushi's face darkened. Many thoughts turned over in his mind as he hurried over to the chest.

"Zhu Meng! Zhu Meng! Is that you in there?"

He knew that Ruan Nanzhu wasn't someone who would just open a chest, but the world of the doors was full of peculiar circumstances. He feared that Ruan Nanzhu had encountered some sudden situation and was dragged into the chest by the Hako Onna.

"Zhu Meng!" Lin Qiushi began hitting the chest calling, "are you inside? Say something—"

"Help me…Please help me…" Ruan Nanzhu's voice was getting weaker and weaker, as if it was going to fade away at any moment. "Please help me…"

It had only been a few minutes, but there was already a sheen of cold sweat on Lin Qiushi's forehead. He stared at the lid of that chest and swallowed, hard, before asking in a raspy voice, "what's my name? Tell me, what's my name outside the door—"

"Linlin, save me…" was how Ruan Nanzhu responded to Lin Qiushi's question.

Upon hearing Ruan Nanzhu's answer, Lin Qiushi released a violent breath. He pressed his hear to that chest and listened as that thing inside keep calling his name in Ruan Nanzhu's voice.

"Linlin, Linlin, save me…Linlin, it hurts…Linlin…"

After staring at that chest for a while, Lin Qiushi turned and left the stall. Then he began going stall to stall, knocking down the row.

Very soon, one of the stall doors opened at his knock. Inside was Ruan Nanzhu with his skirt lifted up, and his expression as he looked at Lin Qiushi was strange.

"Linlin, what are you doing?"

Lin Qiushi looked at his face, and without saying anything, walked in and wrapped him up tightly in a hug.

After a moment's shock, Ruan Nanzhu returned the hug.

"What happened?"

Lin Qiushi, "I've learned what the change is."

Ruan Nanzhu, "hm?"

Lin Qiushi said, "the Hako Onna's power…False Answers." He glanced at a certain stall. "The Hako Onna can imitate people's voices and call for help from inside the chest."

Affection disturbed the mind; the moment something happened to someone you cared for, you were no longer in the state of mind to contemplate the logic of the situation. And once you'd actually opened the chest, there was no longer time for regret.

"What did you hear?" Ruan Nanzhu instantly got an answer from Lin Qiushi's words and expression. "You heard me calling for help inside the chest?"

"Yes," Lin Qiushi said. "Fortunately, you don't like to call me Linlin on the outside."

Ruan Nanzhu said, "I didn't hear anything. It seems the two people from last night were tricked like this."

"Mh," Lin Qiushi said. "They must have a good relationship outside the doors."

Ruan Nanzhu said, "you said just now that the Hako Onna cried inside this room, right?"

Lin Qiushi nodded.

"Then we can confirm her location." Ruan Nanzhu was thinking out loud. "There must be conditions restricting her movement, or we wouldn't be able to open the chests at all.”

If there were no restrictions, then that meant the moment you chose a chest to open, the Hako Onna could move to the chest before you.

"Yes," Lin Qiushi said. "So we can confirm the Hako Onna's in this room…But two people died last night."

That meant there were two additional Hakobito inside the house, and they were in unknown chests.

Ruan Nanzhu said, "let's get them to confirm it with the stethoscope."

Lin Qiushi, "the stethoscope's with the newbie that Wei Xiude brought in."

Ruan Nanzhu nodded. "Mh, I know. Let's go talk to them first, so this item doesn't go to waste."

The stethoscope must have changed as well. As for how, they didn't yet know.

Author's Note:

The strongest players pretty much won't ever bump up against each other, because they typically have their own hints for their own doors. The rest of the spots are divvied up among people without hints, so those people are weaker in comparison. Emmmm personally I think getting your hint out first thing would be catching the Idiot Ball? Everybody's basically your competition, and there's only one super important hint to the next door. Ruan Nanzhu would never go in a door and immediately announce he has a hint and attract everybody's attention like that.

Translator’s Note:

Many thanks to this YouTuber for giving me this split-second screengrab of the English name for “False Answers” ‘cause I couldn’t find it in the rulebook PDF...

Names in this chapter

Sūn Yuánzhōu / Sun(1) Yuan(2) Zhou(1) / 孫元洲

Wèi Xīudé / Wei(4) Xiu(1) De(2) / 魏修德

this bastard's name translates literally to "one who practices ethics" lmao

Xiǎo Jì / Xiao(3) Ji(4) / 小薊

[Ch. 107] | [Ch. 109]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒

182 notes · View notes

bxngchxn · 4 years ago

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strawberries and red wine || l. minho (lee know)

this is a fic that I have re-uploaded from my old blog, @ethereal-bang . I’ll be reuploading all of my old works here and deleting my old blog soon. hope you enjoy!

characters: minho x fem reader

wc: 4.8k

genre: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving)

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!!

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

“No, Mina what did I tell you we do NOT pull people’s hai- wait, BENJAMIN, where did you get that frog from?!? Let it go!!” You scramble around the classroom as you try and control the chaos that is your 4s classroom. Being the lead teacher in a room full of toddlers is nowhere near easy, but you’ve always had an affinity for kids. It started out with babysitting your cousins on the weekends, then volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. Eventually it led to you, taking early education classes in college and graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education. Now, you find yourself here, making sure these kids keep the sand IN the sand box, for the third time this week.

No matter how frustrated you got, though, you could never get genuinely angry. They’re just babies, after all. They have no real concept of right and wrong (or object permanence for that matter), therefore their decision making skills are ~slightly~ off. Plus, they look so cute with their innocent, bright smiles and big eyes. How could you not love them?

The day is just about over, and you’re trying to get everything as clean as possible before the kids leave, that way you don’t have to stay too late to finish it all. It’s Friday, and the thought of going home to your quiet apartment for some much needed me time is all you’re thinking about as you wipe down the snack table. You survey the other children to make sure no one is causing trouble, and you smile as you take in the sight of everyone (finally) sitting in their assigned seats, various hobbies distracting them as they wait for their parents to arrive.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it.

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh– but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously.

The way she was looking at you screamed innocence, her smile never faltering. “From my daddy! He said it when he dropped the casserole on the ground the other night. But it’s okay! He ordered us a pizza instead!” She says and you can’t help but giggle, while simultaneously making a note to speak to the girl’s father. Kids tend to overshare way too much, and it reminds you of all the crazy things you’ve heard over the years– those poor parents.

Before you know it, the day has ended and it’s time to walk the children outside. Calling your students to form a line at the door, you double check for backpacks and blankies and stuffed animals. Once everyone (and everything) is settled, you lead the children outside to their parents who are standing with open arms, ready to have their babies back with them for the night. The sight is always so endearing, the little ones getting overly excited and jumping into their parents’ arms.

As you watch everyone begin to leave, you notice a certain brunette toddler waddling up to her father, who scoops her up into his arms and immediately puts her on his shoulders.

She looks like him, the way that his eyes seem to shine reminiscent of the sparkle you get to see in hers every morning. He’s rocking her back and forth as she’s sat atop him, her giggles ringing out through the daycare’s playground and bringing a sense of calm and happiness to the air. Making your way over to the two of them, your breath catches in your throat when you realize the height difference between the two of you. He’s at least a head taller than you, making you feel small as you get his attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee? Would it be okay if I had a word with you for just a moment?” You ask him quietly.

He looks at you, and you can feel your heartbeat skip when a small smile graces his lips. Taking his daughter off of his shoulders, he ushers her over toward another parent, and the child runs off with Kim Seungmin and his daughter, with promises of ice cream from the truck down the road. “Absolutely, is everything okay Ms….?” He says, realizing (embarrassingly) that he’s never gotten your name. “Y/N! My name is Y/N.” You say with a smile, and he nods, wanting to commit your name to memory.

Minho has seen you day in and day out, greeting the kids in the morning at drop off, and bringing them outside to release to their parents. He’s spoken to you maybe once? Maybe twice? He really wasn’t sure, but something about your soft smile and the way you take care of the children is hitting him differently today. He has a mix of curiosity and slight panic running through his system, afraid his daughter had gotten into big trouble. She’s his whole world, and although raising her on his own definitely isn’t easy, it’s just as equally rewarding. She’s just like him, her personality so big and so funny for someone so little.

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today…” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

After that, talking to Minho when he came to pick up his daughter became a daily occurrence. It was never for long, maybe two or three minutes of conversation at a time, but it was something you looked forward to. He seemed so carefree, always coming in with a smile on his face. Each day his little girl runs to him and demands to be put on his shoulders, and he always obliges.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t form some type of crush on the man in question. You would find yourself hiding your smile after every little interaction, and you weren’t sure how to feel about the fact that you fell for him so easily. It had been a long time since you had decided to focus on your love life, so every time you get those butterflies in your chest you’re unsure of how to react.

Minho, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten. He never took this kind of interest in his daughter’s teachers before. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling he gets when he witnesses his little girl run up to hug you in the mornings as you head to class fills him with a lighthearted emotion. Plus, the more he spoke to you, the more he came to find out that the two of you are fairly similar. He knew that he needed to take you out on a date. It was the only thing he could think about.

Would it be inappropriate? Absolutely. For as long as you were her teacher, there was no way he’d be able to openly express his feelings. So, he waits. He keeps his feelings at bay for the remainder of the year, waiting for summer to come so he can ask you out on an actual date. And when he does, it’s in the most unexpected way possible.

You see, Minho had a plan. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he was going to get you a small gift and a card with some cheesy pick up line, asking you to do him the honor of going to dinner with him. His daughter, however, has a (very unfiltered) mind of her own.

The summer months were in full swing, the heat and humidity taking over the town as people rode their bikes through the streets, and everyone who drove a car with their windows down, music playing at full volume. It was one of your favorite things about summer, you loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves, alongside the nostalgic feeling of freedom that comes with the warmer weather. This is why you decide one Saturday morning to get up early and head to the Farmer’s Market. The big, open air market held fond memories from your childhood, and going there to shop for your groceries became a stress reliever for you ever since you started college. The older women selling produce were the sweetest, always giving you free samples when you came round.

Today was one of those days, the smells of spices and different street foods filling your noose as you looked at some apples at a produce stand. You pick up what seems like the perfect apple. Round, shiny, no bruises anywhere. That is, until you feel a little someone bump into your legs.

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so…Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness.

She nods her head furiously and you laugh, picking her up when she raises her arms. You hold her on your hip and lean down just enough for her to grab a new apple to put in your bag. On the sidelines, Minho is trying so hard not to die at the sight in front of him. His daughter looks so happy, and so do you, bonding over the differences between the fruits. He just smiles as he watches in the interaction.

“This one looks perfect! Don’t you agree, sweetie?” You ask the little girl, and she giggles and takes it from your hands. “Yeah! Daddy, look at the apple~~” she says, and Minho’s attention is brought back to the girl in your arms. “Y-yes pumpkin, it looks really perfect! Red apples are a lot sweeter than green apples, they’re your favorite right? Why don’t we get some too?” Minho rambles rather quickly, and it makes you laugh as you watch him clumsily put some apples into a produce bag and hand money to the lady working at the register.

Once you also pay for your apples, Minho invites you to come have lunch with the two of them in the picnic area. You can’t bring yourself to tell them no, so you follow them to an area of grass that is filled with families eating, playing and just enjoying the summer weather. You and Minho help his daughter with her lunch, all the while enjoying the time together, as well. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, because the little girl was no longer in your 4’s class. You spent a few hours with the two of them, and when it was time to go, his little girl scrambles into your lap before you can even make a move to get up.

“I figured something out!” She says, proudly. “Yes, dear, what is it?” Minho asks her, and you crane your head to look over at her. “I think daddy likes you, Miss Y/N,” she blurts out. Your cheeks turn pink, and Minho starts stuttering. “W-what makes you think that, love?” You ask her, and she shrugs her head, completely unbothered by the fact that the two of you look like you’ve been caught, even though nothing has happened.

“Well,” she says, determined. “Daddy talks reaaaallyyyy fast when he talks about me, or soonie doongie and dori, because he likes us a lot. And he does the same thing when he talks to you, or talks about you. I just figured that because he talks fast like that, it must mean he really likes you. Because daddy talks reeeaaally fast about you.” She says, and then goes back to eating a strawberry out of the container that Minho brought with him. The blush on your cheeks turns even darker, and Minho’s face isn’t too far behind, either.

“Aaah, I see. You must be really smart to have figured that out, huh?” You ask her as you laugh, trying to make your nervousness go away. Minho has since taken interest in his hands, not being able to look you in the eye. “Well,” you start, getting the girl’s attention. You lean in close, but still far enough away that Minho can hear, too. “I think that I like your daddy just as much,” You “whisper” in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and Minho’s face shoots up from looking at his hands. “Really?!” The girl squeals, and you just smile and pat her head.

“Really.”

The three of you wander the market for a little while longer, before you notice Minho’s daughter getting sleepy. Once she asks Minho to pick her up, he carries her on his back and she’s out cold within two minutes. He laughs at the snoring toddler, and looks down at the ground before he looks at you. “Did you mean it?” he asks, and you feel your heart explode when you look into his eyes. “About liking me, did you really mean it?” He repeats, and you can’t bring yourself to hide the truth anymore. “Mhm, I did mean it.” You say quietly. His smile brightens ten fold, and if he wasn’t hauling a sleeping child on his back, he would’ve taken your hand. “Well in that case, would it be out of pocket to ask you over for dinner this weekend? She’s going to a slumber party at Seungmin’s house, so we can have an actual conversation,” he asks sheepishly.

“I would love that.”

__________

The rest of the week flies by, and you can feel the nerves gathering in your stomach as you arrive at Minho’s house. Walking inside, it’s exactly how you could imagine it to be. It’s cozy, and you can definitely tell that a toddler lives there. Toys are in the living room corner, stacked neatly next to a two story dollhouse. Sippy cups align the kitchen sink, and you see cat shaped sandwich cutters sitting in the dish drainer. The sight makes you smile, as you remember cooing over the cute shapes at lunch time.

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this– candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

Dinner goes well, just as you expected it to. The two of you never run out of things to talk about, and the wine is definitely helping the two of you loosen up a little bit. Once dinner is over, you insist that you help with the dishes. Minho tries to decline, but you bump him out of the way with your hip, picking up a towel to dry the clean dishes with. He laughs and mimics the action, except his arm wraps around your waist in an attempt to catch you if you fall over. You feel electricity shoot through you at the action, and you turn to face him as you laugh.

He doesn’t let go, and the look in his eyes has you dropping your towel onto the kitchen counter. The air in the room feels charged, and you can’t help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. Everything just felt natural, with him. Like you were supposed to be this way all along. His other hand drops the dish he was holding into the sink, and he decides to wrap it around your waist instead. The feeling of finally being encapsulated in his arms makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do.

Minho feels your tongue at his lips, and he immediately grants you entrance but quickly gains dominance over you. A hand of his moves from your waist up into your hair as he pushes you into the kitchen counter. Your hands roam his body, his broad shoulders and toned arms feeling like heaven under your fingertips. When your hands find his hair, you tug on it slightly and that’s enough to prompt Minho to lift you onto the counter. He’s standing between your legs, his hands falling to your hips once again. He traces light circles into the skin under your sweater as you start trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you say breathily, and it makes Minho chuckle. “You really want this?” He asks, confirming that it’s okay for him to take it further. “I want all of it.” You say while looking him in the eyes. They darken, and you can tell that you’ve just awoken something inside the man. His hands bunch under your shirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal the royal purple bra that you were wearing. Thanking god that you chose a matching set, you take the initiative to take your sweater off the rest of the way, throwing it on a chair near the table.

Minho wastes no time attacking your neck, biting marks near your collarbone and trailing them down towards your breast. He takes one in his hands, feeling the fabric underneath his hands and relishing in the quiet noises you’re making. His fingers ghost over your nipples, the texture of the fabric bringing you an added sensation. You subconsciously move your hips against his, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. Minho sighs, and the sound is music to your ears. You continue to move your hips against his, and Minho quickly grabs the back of your legs. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” he teases, telling you to hold on as he picks you up and takes you in the direction of his bedroom. His lips never leave your neck, at least not until he has you lying comfortably on top of the pillows on his bead. The look in his eyes is almost primal, and it mirrors every feeling that is running through your body in the moment.

You sit up quickly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as you kiss each inch of exposed skin. Minho helps you as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and you take in the sight of the gorgeous man sitting in front of you. You look down to his jeans and then back into his eyes, as if asking for permission. He grabs your hand and guides it to his belt, and that’s a sure fire sign that you can continue.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold– the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

You look so gorgeous on your knees for him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you begin to sink lower onto his cock. He can feel your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein and making sure to swirl your tongue at his head with each pass you make. If you keep this up, he’s going to cum fast.

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of your pretty little mouth, baby, I don’t want to cum inside it this time.” He says, pulling you back up onto the bed. You feel excitement rise in your chest at the idea of a “next time”. You giggle as he hovers over you, pulling you into another kiss. He can taste you on his tongue, and there’s something so inherently dirty about it that makes him impatient.

He starts working on your jeans, undoing the buttons with ease and sliding them down your legs. He stares at the matching purple underwear that you’re in, and he chuckles darkly. “Seems like someone had something certain on their mind when getting dressed today, huh love?” He teases, tracing slow circles over your clit in a teasing way. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” you say as you try to keep your noises to a minimum. He’s going at a pace that is way too slow for your liking, but you’re not ready to beg for it. At least not yet.

“Hm? Feigning innocence now are we? That’s not very nice of you, baby. Tell me, what were you thinking when you put this on today, hm? Were you thinking that I’d take you like a good girl tonight?” He asks. His eyes never leave yours, and you try your hardest to keep your voice level. “Maybe,” you tease, and his pace quickens for just a moment, just enough to have you keening, but then he returns to the torturously slow pace. “Trying to be a brat, are we? Don’t worry, I can have that attitude fixed in no time,” he warns. You want to test him, see how far he’ll go. “Really? I don’t see you doing anything about it,” you fight back.

Bad idea.

Before you can even blink, your underwear are ripped off and thrown across the room, and Minho’s hand is now around your throat. The sweet feeling of the air leaving your lungs has you dizzy, not able to form coherent words. “Oh? Where’s that mouth of yours now huh?” He says, his tone condescending. His fingers return to your core, but this time his pace is rough and fast. You try to move, but the grip on your neck is tight. “Tell me what you want, love. Use your words,” he says. He decides to loosen his grip to let you speak.

“Please, Minho God just-just fuck me,” you finally speak out, voice shaky as your high is quickly approaching you. “That’s all the permission I need, baby doll.” He laughs as he pulls you closer to him. Reaching down, Minho grabs his cock in his hands and runs the head up and down your labia, teasing you before giving you the real thing. “You’re so wet, this is all for me right? I’m the only one who makes you feel like this?” He asks, knowing that you’re slowly losing your cool.

“Yes! Yes it’s only fo- only for you, Minho please” you beg, and it quickly turns into a moan as he enters you. Your back arches, and a low groan comes from Minho’s throat as he feels how tight you are around him. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, but once you rock your hips into him even a little, he sets off at a steady pace. The feeling is euphoric, he’s stretching you in just the right places and somehow knows exactly how to make you see stars.

He’s panting, and when you whine a quiet “Harder, please,” he loses all control. Slamming into you quickly, he brings his hand back to your throat. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Jesus. Only for me,” he says over and over again. He’s leaned close to you now, mouth against your ear and you can hear every ounce of praise that comes from his mouth. Your high is approaching, and you clench around Minho when he starts drawing fast circles on your clit once again.

“Minho I- I’m so close, please make me cum,” you moan, and with a certain swivel of his hips he’s hitting a spot that’s making you see stars. “Cum for me then, baby. Let me feel you,” he says, quickening his pace once again, so fast you didn’t think it was possible.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and your labored breathing, moans loud as you finally feel the knot in your core tighten and then burst. His name leaves your lips in a long, drawn out whine, and you feel him fill you up not long after your orgasm starts wearing off. He’s panting in your ear, grip tightening around your throat once again as you feel him spill into you.

Riding out both of your highs, Minho’s thrusts slowly come to a stop. The two of you lay there, basking in the glow of the events that just unfolded. You stay like that for a few minutes, and then Minho gets up to run the shower, placing a kiss on your forehead as he leaves the bedroom.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You wake up the next morning in one of his tshirts, and you can smell pancakes being made in the kitchen. You look over and realize that Minho is no longer next to you, and you smile as you hear the radio playing and a sweet voice singing along.

Aware that his daughter could be coming home at any minute, you throw your own jeans on as you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s shirt still falling off your shoulder. Quietly padding behind him, he jumps as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Good morning,” you giggle, and he quickly turns to place a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning to you too, doll.” He says. The name brings back memories of last night and you feel a blush on your cheeks.

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

@dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix @moonlit-lixie @feliix

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #bxngchxn fics

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

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Oh, Loverboy: Part 2 (Everyone x Everyone, Star x Fem!Reader Centric)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: drug use, canon compliant bullying/teasing/violence, cursing,

Word Count: 1.9k

I feel like this is just gonna turn into an everyone x reader, star!centric fic so- hope you guys are down for that

While she'd given you a taste of the silent treatment last night, it didn't stop you and the boys from teasing her relentlessly for her crush. David sat on his bike, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette. He loved to tease, and he did so subtly by saying,

"He kinda looks like Jim Morrison." He started, and Star sent him a glare from where the pair of you were sitting. Even if the boys didn't know where he was taking this, Paul was already laughing. David grinned and was quiet for a moment. As if he would agree to drop it. He didn't, and finished his teasing by saying, "Y'know, we could move that poster into your bedroom." And the boys erupted into a chorus of laughter when Star threw her corn dog stick on the ground. The boys only added onto his teasing, with Paul reaching out to pinch her side and say,

"Hey, no littering, miss." As he mimicked Big Ed's voice. She rolled her eyes again, and you grinned and gave her hand a squeeze. You knew it was all in good fun, and it wasn't their fault if Star happened to just be an easy target. Even Dwayne was having fun with it, telling her,

"I didn't know you had a thing for brunettes." Before running a hand through his own hair. Star had scoffed at that, and finally cracked when even Laddie started to laugh along with them.

"Y'know, you guys are the worst." Before she hopped off your seat and floated away from the pack of you. When you tried to follow and called after her, Marko was quick to grab your hand and spin you. He pulled you back into his arms, pulling a laugh from you as well, before he said,

"Nah, let her go. She's been hogging you." He said, and leaned down to nip at your neck. You yelped, trying to slap him away but his grip was too strong. It didn't take long for you to surrender, pulling him in by his jacket to satisfy him with a kiss.

She'd been gone for a little bit longer than you liked. You were picking at Markos jacket, having moved to sit behind him. It was almost time for you to leave, and Star still hadn't returned. The boys did what they did best, and they were a good distraction. Mostly. The night was stretching on, and you were starting to worry your lip between your teeth. You glanced at David, concern swirling in your eyes before he glanced away. Towards the opposite side. It seemed one of you may have to go find her, draw her back. You knew it would probably be you, and you were just about to offer before David let out a small scoff.

You looked where David was looking, leaning back as you held onto the curly-haired blonde. It seemed Star had caught her stray.

He was leading her towards his bike. It was red and not nearly as geared up as the bike you were sitting on, or the bikes surround it, but the simple act made you frown. From over here, you could almost hear him ask if she wanted to go somewhere, and you watched as she made moves to accept.

All it took was a shared glance, and the five, plus Laddie, of you had the same idea. You'd been starting to get worried, thinking that you were going to have to go track her down. And all this time she was with loverboy? Even if you didn't want to be, a part of you was pissed. You didn't know why. Sharing had been easy before, but the idea of this mysterious kid? He set you off, ground your gears. Maybe it was because you thought she could do better. Maybe it was something else you didn't want to admit. Either way, it didn't help that David seemed to feel exactly the same way. Or maybe David just wanted to be a dick.

The six of you rode up to them, boxing the pair of them in. You had your chin on Markos shoulder, and you played with a couple of the loose strands on Markos jacket. Your eyes fluttered over the boy. He was handsome, with a strong jaw and nice cheekbones. It was understandable as to why Star liked him. Hell, he was pretty. There was no other way to go about it. But your eyes moved to her right as David spoke,

"Where you goin', Star?" And you lifted your head. You were staring at her, silently asking her the same question.

"For a ride." She said. She had met David's eyes, but quickly avoided everyone else's. Your own. She even turned her back to you as she said, "This is Michael." You frowned, your eyes shifting to the boy besides her. So, loverboy had a name?

"Hi, loverboy." You said, leaning your cheek on Markos shoulder and sending him a small wave. You'd caught his attention for a moment, and you almost thought you could see his cheeks tinge at the nickname. It seemed he remembered you. He was quick to look away, hiding an embarrassed smile. Just cause he had a name didn't mean you were going to use it. Especially when embarrassing him was so fun.

"C'mon, let's go." He said, and your eyes were quick to flick to David's. He was already on it. He leaned back, calling the single word,

"Star." And her eyes flicked back to him. David clicked his jaw, staring back. It was a game of chicken. One to test if she really was mad at the lot of you. You didn't know how she'd react, but you watched the exchange just as closely as Michael did. Finally, Star gave in. She wasn't really mad at all of you, and she didn't want to stir any tensions by acting like she was. She moved to take her usual seat behind David, and your lips spread out into a mega-watt smile as you reached a hand out to touch her. Paul laughed his usual laugh, but it was more at the brunettes expense. You turned to see that Michael had deflated, a look of disappointment on his face. David smiled, and you couldn't tell whether it was from winning Star over or from Michaels loss. Maybe a little bit of both. Either way, David could be an ass, but he was a surprising ass. "You know where Hudson's Bluff is? Over looking the point?"

With Michael in tow, you'd ended up back at the cave. He was pretty, sure. But he wasn't smart. You'd guessed that the second he'd tried to pick a fight with David. To your surprise, David had let it go. You were almost impressed with him. You didn't know him to have an easy temper, but he'd even gone as far as wrapping his arm around his shoulders as he showed them their little living area. After giving him the usual spiel, of course.

Your boys had spread out, with Marko going to get food, Paul, Laddie and Dwayne on the fountain, and David and Michael heading towards the couch with a joint in hand. You didn't live in the cave, but you might as well have. You spent plenty of nights there before retreating to your father's house. You were his golden child, and he wouldn't have you sleeping over with kids like them, as your father put it. You and Star had clasped hands, the pair of you standing near the rock entrance as you watched David sit Michael down. You glanced at the pair of them, before glancing at the poster David hung on the wall. You watched how David talked to him, before you gripped her hand and grabbed the arm of the girl next to you. You leaned in, whispering,

"Doesn't David have a thing for brunettes?" And it took Star a second to realize before she was tearing her eyes away and staring at you,

"No way-" But you were cutting off her words with your own laughter. She reached up, covering your mouth despite her own giggles as the boys looked over at the pair of you. You watched as David arched a brow, a cigarette balancing between his lips. Michael looked confused, and you almost could swear that you could hear elevator music coming from inside his head. You tried to silence your giggles, but even Star couldn't stop her smile as she dragged you towards her room. You saw David lean back, his arm around the back of the couch behind Michaels head. He's totally putting on the moves. You thought to yourself, making your giggles even harder to stop. You watched David clench his jaw, and faintly you could hear him say,

"Don't mind them, Michael. They're like a pair of hyenas, those two."

You were sure that Michael was staring at the pair of you. You were sitting on the floor, a layer of pillows keeping you from sitting directly on the gravel. You glanced over your shoulder, but Star was quick to grab you by it. She was quick to say,

"Don't look." And you tried to be serious. You really were trying. Maybe it was the joint the two of you had been passing back and forth, but everything was funny. It was also the second you made eye-contact with her; you couldn't help the giddy feeling she made run through you, and you couldn't help your own attempts to make her smile. After a moment, she whispered, "Okay, okay, now look." You weren't surprised to see that Michaels baby blues were trained over to where the pair of you were sitting, but they glanced away at the blonde beside him the next moment when David tried to steal back his attention.

"If you don't hurry up, David's gonna steal him-" You said quietly, and you couldn't stop your laughter when she tried to shush you. Maybe it was a trick of the candle-light but you thought he'd face had turned a lovely shade of red. She gave you a half-hearted glare, tilting her head as she said,

"Shut up. You're- You're terrible at this. How did we start dating?" And you only hummed in response, sending her a shrug. You held her hand, interlacing your fingers. It was much easier to not be jealous of Stars crush when she was holding your hand, and when David was expressing his own interest. Well, it was probably mostly easier because you were high.

You ran your fingertips over the warmth of her hand, your eyes trailing over her face as she glanced over at the other curly-haired brunette. You thought about leaning in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. To her neck. Her lips. You wondered how Michael would react to that. But Star was snapping her head back towards you and whispering,

"He's coming over." And you tore your eyes from the sight of her face just in time to see him standing near the bunched up curtains of Stars room. He seemed almost shy, but too- whatever to really show it. He was unsure of where he stood, at least aware to know that he was a newcomer. But you were sure he remembered what had caught his interest in this group first. It made a small smile come to your face, and you brought the rolled cigarette up to your lips, blowing out a flume of smoke before you said,

"Hi, loverboy." It seemed to become his semi-permanent nickname, and even just saying it made you smile. You watched how Michael moved his head, attempted to hide his face. He pointed a finger to where you were sitting, at the spot between either of you.

"Mind if I join?"

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #star the lost boys #the lost boys star #star x reader #the lost boys x reader #michael the lost boys #the lost boys michael #reader x everyone

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fandom-collective-writers · 4 years ago

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a two player game | obey me | leviathan

“And what are you doing with this game~?”

It’s an innocent enough question until Leviathan tips his head back to glance at the game in question.

“How did you sneak hentai into the House of Lamentation? I would have expected Lucifer to have some anti-porn devil dog to confiscate these types of things.” Your fingers are perfectly curled over the main character’s lewd expression as she’s ravaged by… tentacles.

“Uh–”

You smile slyly and drape your arms over his shoulders as the blush settles across his cheeks.

“I got it as part of a promotion. People pay me to review games, y’know.” It’s the best excuse he can give really, but he is at fault for not hiding it better. “Now give it here so I can put it inside of my desk. If Mammon finds this, I’ll hear about it for the next century.” Leviathan paws at the box, but you hold it just out of reach.

“You haven’t opened it.” “It’s a two player game.” “You plus me equals two.”

Leviathan laughs a bit and scratches the back of his neck. “Very perceptive. You don’t even know what the game is about.”

“Play as Haru or control the tentacle monster that has her locked up in its underwater dungeon. Win the game by resisting the orgasms or by bringing the second player to their knees,” you read from the back of the case. “Sounds easy enough. Wouldn’t it be funny if you were getting pegged by tentacles though, and I was the one to control them?”

Levi finally manages to swipe the game from your hand and sets it down on a stack of papers. “You’re into that? I think we skipped over that in last week’s kink-meeting.” The demon laughs at his own joke. (There had not, in fact, been a kink meet between the two of you, but it makes you giggle as well.)

“You never asked! I’d be down to try it with you.”

His nose brushes against yours gently and his hand finds yours. As Levi’s fingers lace with yours, you reach for the box with your opposite hand, click it open, ignore the surprised hey! and hold on tight so that the game absorbs the two of you.

Maybe you jinxed it when you teased Levi about getting pegged, because now you’re the one bound and half suspended in the air. When you try to move your wrist, the kelp-like ties around your wrist only grow tighter. “Kinky,” you mutter under your breath.

There’s a loud crashing sound outside of your cell, but it is quickly followed by Levi’s familiar voice. He looks damn good as a merperson: dark purple hair floats just above his shoulders, an iridescent tail, and of course (likely the best scene of them all) his more-than-usual pronounced abdominal muscles flecked with purple scales.

“Finally! I found you– I’ve been going through this maze for ages, just looking for you.”

“Did you miss the sign that says ‘human sex prisoner here’? Maybe turn the neon lights on.”

This earns a laugh from Leviathan before he leans against a pillar. “You look good,” he comments, checking you out in the same manner you had. When your face turns into a quizzical frown, Levi fetches one of the mirrors on the other side of the room. Upon holding it up, you realize he’s not entirely wrong. You are sporting a half ripped bikini top (calling it meager would be generous) and a sheer skirt that hangs from your hips.

“Are we underwater?”

“Technically, yes– at least according to the game we’re meant to be. Don’t question things too much, this game is still in its beta stages.” He pushes his bangs back and fusses with one of his gold rings.

“Oh, I see.” You continue to hang in place. “...What now?”

Leviathan lifts a hand. “Well… you read the instructions. Either you cum and I win, or you hold out and win.”

It takes a moment before you hear similar crashing noises. Swallowing hard, you turn your head back and see shadows darting around in the shadows. Finally, they emerge into the light: tentacles. They’re not attached to anything in particular. In fact, you can’t tell where they have come from, but your attention is quickly pulled back towards Levi.

He grasps your chin with one hand and smiles almost devilishly. “Y’know, I was going to be nice, but you were so cocky that I think I’ll just edge you and make you cum.” Levi has the ability to control these tentacles, and suddenly, you’re being held in place by said appendages rather than the kelp bindings.

“So, what, you’re going to take meme with your fancy new toys?”

One of the limbs climbs up your right leg, pulling your thighs apart. It doesn’t feel sticky in particular, but you can’t help but yelp at the sharp sensation of cold air hitting your now semi-exposed cunt. You yelp meekly and try to keep your legs closed, but there is no way you can overpower the tentacles.

Levi makes his way over to you and brushes his fingers over your collarbone. “Hm.. I think I will. This will be entertaining, no?” He lowers his head slightly to press a kiss to your lips. “Tell me if it hurts, alright? There might be some glitches because of the game.”

You’re not entirely sure how he’s controlling the tentacles, but before you can manage a response, one begins to prod at your entrance. It’s cold and sticky, but makes you moan nonetheless. “Levi!”

“What, did you orgasm just from that? I’m only testing things out.”

“Get on with it–”

“Oh? Gladly..” Levi covers your eyes with his hand and keeps the other at your jaw. Driven by a seemingly animalistic urge, he presses his hips against yours while stealing wet kisses from your lips. The tentacle moves in sync with Levi’s motions: every body roll translates to a languid stroke from the extra appendage. When he captures your nipple with two fingers, a suction cup finds your clit and pulls at it teasingly.

It’s a plethora of sensations, all at once, and is almost overwhelming. You’re being ravaged by Leviathan and his tentacles at the same time, but the worst part is that you can’t even see his beautiful expression as he wrecks you. How could anyone last in a game like this?

Saliva dribbles from your swollen lips and you open your mouth to say something, call his name– anything to warn him that your underwater tryst might come to an end faster than you could have anticipated.

A pathetic moan rolls off your tongue, but it’s cut short when something smacks your ass. Another tentacle?! How many are there?!

Not that you could count them, even if you wanted to, because Levi keeps his hand firmly over your eyes. It’s torture at this point, feeling every little thing and listening to the intense lewd sounds, but not being able to see them.

“Levi,” you whine with desperation. “I can’t see– I want to see you.”

“Eh?” He moves his hand back, and you nearly squeal with delight at his expression. Leviathan is blushing more than usual, as if he’s feeling pleasure from what the tentacles are doing to you. “Better? Does it hurt?”

You shake your head. “You’re so cute…”

“Cute?” Levi huffs. “I’m fucking you with tentacles made of pixels and you call me cute?” Now he laughs a bit and a few suction cups stick to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. “I can’t do you anally though, that’s Level 2.”

Now you’re the one laughing, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I actually am. No matter who wins, with each level increase, more toys and positions are unlocked. That’s kind of smart actually.”

“But Levi, don’t you want to put your tentacle in my ass?”

This makes him shiver, and you know what the answer is. Regardless, it seems like any attempts to make the tip of the tentacle get closer to your second hole, nothing happens. With a pensive sigh, your hips meet the side of his tail so that you’re grinding on both Levi and the tentacle simultaneously. “This will have to do.”

Up until this moment, the tentacles hadn’t actually entered you, but instead danced around your hole and focused on your clit. However, your momentary leap of authority gives him a figuratively boner, since he doesn’t technically have a visible dick. It might be in his tail somewhere… but you aren’t about to ask where he’s hiding his cock. That would be weird.

“Hey Levi?”

He grunts back in response, obviously focused on other things.

“Do you think you can penetrate me? I’m sure you’ll win if you do–”

“It’s not as easy as you think– I have to give each thing something to do or my stats drop.” “You have stats?!” You lean back slightly and eye Leviathan.

“Yeah, just flex your palm.” You give Levi a flat stare. “It’s kind of difficult to do that when my wrists are bound.”

The tentacle holding your right hand releases slightly, giving you enough room to do as he’s suggested. A small screen appears in front of you. “Moaning level 2, cockwarming level 1– wait I can change the size of my breasts?!”

Levi pauses for a moment long enough to look at the small screen. “Oh, yeah, I had dick options too, but I didn’t mess with them yet.”

This makes you blink a few times in astonishment, thinking that this game is far more complicated than the first one you played. You want to look through the menu more and see what other things you can do– your mind drifts to the actual purpose of the game. Could there be a power up that would help you resist the tentacles?

Before you can continue scrolling, the slick sound of something penetrating you fills your ears. He’s done what you’ve asked him to, and is absolutely merciless about it. Now that Levi’s found a way to fuck you hard, he’s not going to let up any time soon. In fact, chances are that he won’t stop until the Congratulations, you’ve made your bitch cum screen pops up over his head, if that’s even how the game works.

A string of curses fly off your tongue, meant to be praises than anything else, but you don’t hear your own voice. “Why don’t it let me say ----?!” you screech, dragging your fingernails across Levi’s bare shoulders. “I just wanna moan for you, Levi–”

“Curse words are censored, but that’s stupid, I don’t know why. Is it possible you changed the settings?”

You’re frustrated now because, now you’ve finally accepted that you’re his and the stupid game won’t let you call out for him. It’s not a problem for very long though, because the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. A burning sensation ignites your entire body now, and your mind can’t anchor a single coherent thought for more than a few moments at a time.

The strangest thing: it actually feels like he’s the one fucking you. Not the tentacles, but rather, it feels the same as if Leviathan were fucking you in his bed. This makes you happy, so happy that saliva begins to dribble down your chin as the inevitable pressure of an orgasm starts to fill your lower abdomen. You arch your back in such a way that the bikini straps give away, releasing your breasts from the fabric.

Next thing you know, you’re subconsciously grinding against the biggest tentacle– the one fucking your mercilessly– in search for more delicious friction for your clit. At this point, it doesn’t matter who wins or loses, you just really want to cum and see if those tentacle things of his will splurt out some cum.

“Levi–”

“Hm?” His lips dance over the crook of your neck, and the last thing you need now is for him to suddenly decide to be all daddy-merman. You bet anything that his tongue is wetter than your pussy is right now, and the way his teeth graze over your skin–

And then you’re cumming.

Something breaks inside of you, and then it feels as though you’re drowning but breathing at the same time. Is it part of the game? Is this what a simulated orgasm feels like? Your body pulsates like never before and you understand the appeal of sex games. Another moment passes and your mind goes blank, but only for a second because you feel the budding warmth of seed running down your legs.

So the tentacles can cum.

You manage to find the minimal strength it takes to just open your eyes, and you’re met with Leviathan’s beautiful expression as he crashes down from his high as well. He freezes for a split second, almost as if the game is glitching or overloading from the sheer impact of both orgasms taking place. You pray that he remains like this for just a bit longer, giving you the chance to lean your head against his chest.

Levi’s skin is soft, but covered with a thin, inexplicable film of perspiration. If anything, it just makes you giddy again, but you’re not sure that either of you could last for Level 2 in this sorry condition. Running your tongue over his pronounced clavicle, you nip the skin there and suck on it just as he buffers for a moment and releases a painfully loud moan.

His heart thunders loudly, echoing in your ears. It’s the only thing you can hear until his hand lands on your cheek. “Are you okay?” Leviathan’s voice grounds you, and then you realize that the tentacles are no longer in sight, but have retreated into the shadows the first emerged from.

“Yeah… but I think you froze for a second there– we should do it again, y’know, to make sure we can review the game correctly.”

This makes him laugh. The beautiful sound prompts a giggle from you as well, so you throw your arms around his neck for a tight hug. It doesn’t really matter that your skirt has magically disappeared, you’re pleased with the experience.

A screen flashes in front of the two of you, but you’re actually surprised to see the congratulations message.

“We both lost?!”

“How? I made you cum.”

You read the small print: “Haru successfully made the sea monster cum first, but unfortunately succumbed to the tentacles.” With a huff, you scroll through and read the extended audit log of your ‘underwater’ sex adventure with Levi. “That’s bull----! Ugh! I still can’t ----ing curse!”

Levi shushes you gently before brushing your hair back and offering you a consolation kiss. He taps the ‘return to main screen’ button, and the two of you are transported back to the real world.

Nothing’s changed since you left: in fact, it’s only been a few minutes, according to the clock on Levi’s nightstand, that you even opened the game in the first place. Before you can say anything, Leviathan closes the box and throws it into the desk drawer. “No more hentai games for you. I need a cold shower and something to eat after that.”

You stretch and massage your wrists. Although there is no physical evidence of the bindings, you can sure as hell feel where his tentacles kept you in place. Disappointed though, your eyes follow the outline of Levi’s body, happy to see that his normal legs have returned… with a third, very aroused, appendage sitting comfortably between the two of them.

“Levi~”

“Yeah?”

“Two things. One, give it a good review, but say that I need to be able to curse when I cum.”

He raises an eyebrow, but then nods. “And the second thing?”

Now, you’re smiling and reaching for the bulge in his pants. “I think you need a second orgasm to take care of this, no? But no game– this one, I’ll give it to you and make sure it’s real.”

Levi just swallows and shoos you away, calling you silly and that he doesn’t have any energy for that because he knows you’ll leave him an absolute mess. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction though, because now he’s both painfully hard and blushing brighter than a virgin on a windy day.

“Hey Levi?”

“What is it now?”

You just smile and wave your hand. “No, it’s nothing like that– I was just thinking, maybe next time we’ll be in reversed positions. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

He contemplates this for a second. “Why, you want to try and win?”

“Well yeah!” “In your dreams, Haru.”

“I was really worried you’d moan the in game character’s name instead of mine. That would have been awkward as hell.”

Levi extends his arm, offering you a place to sit on his lap. “I wouldn’t do that. But let’s keep this between the two of us for now. Okay?”

You nod and nestle against his chest. Regardless of who the game declared, or didn’t, the winner, you like to think that both of you won. At least for a moment.

#obey me!#obey me leviathan #Obey Me Levi #obey me fanfic #obey me smut #leviathan #leviathanobeyme #shall we date #leviathan smut #otome #xreader #leviathan x reader #obey me x reader

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lunannex · 4 years ago

Text

Writing Latino characters

Before I get into these tips/things to avoid when portraying a character who's Latino, please keep in mind that I'm speaking for no one but myself. I'm just one voice, and there's so many other things that go into writing Latinos that I'm sure I'll forget to mention. And for anyone who might see this, please consider reblogging as these are some things that I feel like all non-Latinos should take into consideration.

—————

•Latinos aren't just from one country alone. We come from a large variety of places (ex. Puerto Rico, Cuba, Perú, Costa Rica, México, Argentina, etc.).

•Not all Latino cultures are the same!!! I cannot stress this one enough. We all have different cultures based on where we're located. This means that we all have our own traditions, national holidays, dialect, names, last names, foods, music, etc!

•To expand on the food topic more: stop associating all Latinos to tacos, burritos and nachos. And additionally, just because a character is from a certain country doesn't mean that they only eat foods that are native to that place.

•Just to clear this up real quick: Latino is NOT a race!!! Stop treating it like it is!!

•When writing a story, it's important to think beyond just the plot and story you wanna tell. You have to think about how and why you're using the characters that you are. Make sure that each character is there to serve a purpose. Representation for the sake of feeling woke and inclusive is tokenism, plain and simple.

•On that note, representation points do not count if that “representation” just means that the minorities end up dead. Or even if they're just there to be tortured or mistreated. I hope I don't have to explain why this is a shitty and racist thing to do.

•Don't rely on cultural symbols in order to sell your character. I get that you might want to emphasize the diversity and show just how inclusive you are, but you have to slow down and think, "Is this detail actually important to the character, or is it detracting their development/the plot?". Because believe it or not, while it's an important part of who we are, our personalities don't center around our cultures—shocker!

•If you feel like you're portraying something in a racist way then...you probably are. Some little details aren't obvious at first, since a lot of racism tends to be a lot more subtle than you'd think, but it's always good to double check. It's difficult to authentically tell stories with characters that exist outside of your own lived experiences. A lot of these things are easily googled and capable of being researched, but make sure that these sources are from actual Latinos because non-Latinos do not get to decide what does and doesn't count as racism to us.

•A problem that usually arises when writing characters of colour is falling into racialized stereotypes or making them one dimensional. It's an easy trick to fall into but please try your best to avoid it.

•One of the most well known Latino stereotypes is making the characters sexy, flirtatious and promiscuous. All it does is perpetuate this unrealistic perception of our already romanticized culture. This doesn't mean that your character can't flirt, but centralizing their entire personality on their sexual appeal is harmful.

•The stereotype that the majority of Latinos work as janitors, maids, and gardeners couldn’t be farther from the truth. There is nothing wrong with having these types of jobs, but they aren't the only ones that we're capable of acquiring and it drives me up a wall to see just how much it keeps getting reinforced throughout all different types of media. It's placing us in a very limited box which is extremely damaging. Latinos are capable of having all kinds of occupations, whether it’s as doctors, lawyers, actors, artists, journalists...—you name it!

•For the love of God, don't make them or their parents abusive. We've had enough of the angry Latino trope and if you're the type of person that portrays minorities as violent and aggressive for absolutely no reason whatsoever then I'll automatically assume the worst of you.

•Some other stereotypes include: the drug dealer, the immigrant, the lazy Latino, the Latin lover, the fiery Latina, etc. Just by doing a quick Google search, you'll get a large number of sources that'll inform you of all the stereotypes and tropes out there that you should do your best to avoid.

•I've noticed that a large portion of the Latinos shown in media are portrayed as though they know every single aspect about their country and that's...honestly pretty unrealistic. Many people, regardless of where they're from, mostly just have a general understanding of their country's history and that's it.

•Latinos are diverse. Afro-Latinos exist. White Latinos exist. Mixed Latinos exist. Muslim Latinos exist. Jewish Latinos exist. Plus-sized Latinos exist. Curly haired Latinos exist. LGBTQ+ Latinos exist. Disabled Latinos exist. Write about them. You shouldn't just focus on representing the types of Latinos that you and the rest of society consider "acceptable".

•Not all Latinos speak Spanish. Don't forget that Portuguese is another one of Latin America's main languages or that there are a lot of Latinos out there that don't speak either of those languages. That doesn't make them less Latino in the slightest, whatever languages they do or don't know shouldn't determine how valid their identity is.

•When writing bilingual characters, do NOT use Google Translate. We can tell when you do because it is glaringly obvious. Reach out to someone who actually speaks the language if you want dialogue to flow more naturally and accurately. And if possible, reach out to someone who shares your character's nationality since the expressions and dialect tend to be different depending on where they're from.

•Most bilingual people don't switch languages mid-sentence nor do we "forget to switch back". This is a MASSIVE pet peeve of mine. Yes, it CAN and DOES happen –mostly when we're around someone who we're very close and comfortable with– but most bilingual people tend to just speak English to non-Spanish or non-Portuguese speakers. These "language switches" tend to translate in a very awkward and stilted way when written into actual dialogue, especially when it's done by non-bilingual people.

•Language switches usually happen when someone forgets a certain word or phrase in the language they're speaking in. Ex. "No encuentro el –¿cómo se dice?– el screwdriver." (This is something that's personally done by me at least multiple times a day. And it's not the best shown example, but it gets the point across)

•Do NOT have your Latino character say something flirty/sexual to someone who doesn't understand the language they're speaking in. That counts as fetishization and it's disgusting.

•If you're writing a romantic relationship, please don't have the Latino call their significant other mami or papi. It's what we call our moms and dads respectively.

•As I mentioned before, people are far more than just their culture. So, just treat your characters with the same respect and importance as you would any other character. Minorities should be allowed to have just as many layers as white characters. Humans are complex beings, and just as you should give a white character a reasoning behind their actions and behavior, writing minorities warrants the exact same thing.

•And lastly, it's okay to mess up. All you have to do is own up, take accountability and work towards bettering yourself so you don't make the same mistake again.

#i'm not even sorry that this is as long as it is #i've been wanting to say all of this for soooo long #i'd put it under the cut but tbh i don't rlly feel like it rn lol #luna talks #writing tips #latino #i know there's some typos in there but oh well haha #hope these help at least a little :)#long post #latino representation #diversity #writing advice #important #character tips #writing resources

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captainkurosolaire · 3 years ago

Note

I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

#I acknowledge you #Love you #Keep doing you #Asks answered #I'm the one guy who's never not going to be filtered or unspoken #To many people have left or been broken #Don't you ever think about it.#There's so many many more #But I'll recharge for next time

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plaidbooks · 3 years ago

Text

Witness Protection - part 2

A/N: And here’s the conclusion (for now)! I didn’t do the reunion with the squad, but if anyone wants that, I could. Again, I split the story in two, so this takes place right after last part. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1

Tags: none

Words: 2716

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandblacktea @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner

There weren’t a whole lot of applicants—most people worked at the grocery store or in one of the other little shops in town. But Mike’s eyes lit up when one day, you came in, resumé in your hand.

“Hello! I hope you’re still looking for help? I’d like to apply,” you said, a bright smile on your face.

Mike grinned back, holding his hand out for your resumé. He scanned it quickly, noticing your name, the fact that you were close in age, and seeing that you’ve worked in customer service before.

“I am, yes. Tell me; do you know the difference between a mystery novel and a thriller?” he asked. He wasn’t going to throw you—or anyone—into that position like Gerry had to him. He’d vet you at least a little bit first.

You scrunched up your face as you thought about it, and Mike thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “Well, I don’t have a dictionary definition for you, but in my opinion, mystery novels are more of a…whodunit. It’s the puzzles, the twists and turns until the villain is revealed at the end. Thriller is more…the game between the protagonist and villain. It focuses more on the tension, rather than figuring out who the killer is.”

Mike blinked in surprise. “That’s actually…you’re dead on. And seeing as you’re the only one who gave me a straight answer, I think you’re perfect for the job.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, your hopes soaring.

Mike nodded. “It’ll be working every day, but I’ll let you choose if you want morning or afternoon shift. Either way, I can only pay $15 an hour. If business keeps steady, though, I may be able to give you a raise down the line.”

“What’re the hours?” you queried. The pay would be fine for your little house. Plus, the owner was waaay too cute.

Mike blushed. “Right, that would be useful information, wouldn’t it?” You laughed and he chuckled. “Morning shift is 8am until 1pm. Afternoons are noon until 5pm. I don’t mind working either shift, so it’s entirely up to you and what you can do.”

“Mornings work perfectly fine for me,” you replied, smiling. You were an early bird, anyways.

Mike gave you another bright grin. “Excellent. Come back at 8am tomorrow morning, and I’ll show you the jobs the morning shift does. And welcome aboard.”

***********************

Hiring you turned out to be the best choice Mike could’ve made. You caught on quickly; by the second day, Mike didn’t even need to be there training you anymore. You were great with customers, quick with a joke, and were incredibly well-read. Like him, you often filled the empty time with reading. Though, it was less time than Mike had when working for Gerry; you had to make the coffee and tend to the bakery goods, rearranging them when things sold. And with the higher volume of people, books were left on shelves randomly, making you put them in their correct place.

But the best contribution you made was your own pastries. You told Mike you enjoyed baking, and you brought him in a cupcake one day. It was probably the best thing Mike had ever tasted in his life.

“…would you be willing to sell your confections here? I can’t give you extra time off, not unless I hire someone else. But we can have a limited amount, and once they sell out for the day, they’re out—”

“I’d love to,” you replied, smiling. “Maybe not every day, but I usually make a batch of a dozen in my free time. I could always do two dozen, or a dozen of one thing, a dozen of something else.”

Mike nodded. “How about we start off slow, only selling things on Sunday? And if it turns out to be too much work for you, we can stop.”

“Sounds like a deal, boss man.”

************************

Your Sunday Special Treats became so popular, that it was obvious one day wasn’t going to cut it. You’d open the store at 8am with two dozen cookies, and they’d be gone within an hour. It got to the point where you’d show up at your normal 7:30am, and there would be a crowd by the doors, eagerly asking which treats you brought in that day. After discussing with Mike, you agreed to bake for both Sunday and Wednesday, for a mid-week treat.

Mike even offered to come by your place after he closed the shop to help you bake, if you wanted another pair of hands.

“Just so you know, though, I’ve never baked a day in my life,” he said, chuckling.

But he was so damn cute, and you were kind of hoping for more than a work relationship with him. Which is why you replied, “I’d appreciate all the help I can get. I can teach you.”

************************

It became a biweekly routine. Tuesday and Saturday nights, Mike would come to your place, around 6pm. You would be just starting baking, and he’d wash his hands before jumping in with you. At first, it was a struggle for him to figure out what to do with all the ingredients in front of you. You handwrote all your recipes—recipes passed down through generations of your family—and Mike followed them to the letter.

“The thing with baking, like cooking, you can add a little bit of this or that if it needs it, whether it’s in the recipe or not,” you told him one night.

He gave you a smirk. “But I don’t know when something needs a little this or that.”

“You’ll get it; you’re incredibly smart, Mike.”

He ducked his head, but you saw his cheeks turn a bright pink, a grin on his face.

Working so close together, not just baking, but in the bookstore as well, it was no shock that you fell head over heels for the sweet man. And it was no surprise when he fell just as hard for you. Both of you were afraid of the implications and the power play of Mike being your boss. But it never felt like a boss/employee relationship. It was always just…a partnership.

Eventually, you stopped eating dinner before he showed up, instead offering to make dinner for him. He stopped picking things up to eat on the way to your place, opting to have dinner with you, whether homemade or takeout, it didn’t matter.

One night, you were feeling playful, and you flicked flour into Mike’s face. He gave you a look of disbelief before breaking into a grin. He threw a pinch back into your face, and you let out a laugh so pure, it had Mike’s heart melting. He was leaning against the counter next to you, close enough that your clothes were touching. Your laughter came to an end, and you glanced into his face, smiling at the white powder on his nose and cheeks.

You couldn’t say who leaned in first, but soon enough, your lips were brushing against his before he pushed his more forcefully against yours. One of Mike’s hands went to cup the back of your head, and you grabbed his shirt, holding him to you.

Suddenly, the timer dinged loudly, and you gently pulled away from him, giving him a small smile before going to pull the brownies from the oven. You didn’t mind being interrupted, though; it was the first kiss of many that you would share with Mike Jones.

***********************

It was like you were both on the fast track in your relationship. You dated for only a few months before you found a house together. You both ran the shop, Mike raising your pay—while cutting his—until you were equal. And you never thought you could be more in love with someone in your life.

One day, Mike told you that he wanted the shop closed on the next Saturday. When you asked why, he said that he needed to have an important talk with you on Friday night, and that he wanted a free day afterwards; so that you didn’t have to be in bed early, and you had time to process things. He had seemed nervous, and it wasn’t the first time it felt like there was something on his mind while he was with you.

You were slightly worried, but also excited; was he going to propose? You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you had no other explanation to what this talk could be.

Mike came home after closing the shop on Friday evening, carrying takeout in a plastic bag. You greeted him with a kiss, and he gave you a smile. But you could see the nerves and concern in his eyes. After scooping food into a bowl, you both sat at the dining table in the kitchen.

“What I have to say isn’t…easy. And I must stress that it doesn’t leave this house, ever,” he started.

You nodded. “Whatever it is, I’m sure nothing will change, Mike.”

He sighed, closing his eyes. “My last name isn’t Jones. It’s Dodds.”

“What? All this is about a name change—”

“It’s more than that. I—I’m in witness protection.”

You sat there, stunned into silence as Mike gave you his entire life story. He gave you every little detail about himself, about growing up in New York City, about his overbearing father and his career in the Army, boxing, and the NYPD. He told you about his parent’s divorce, about his brother’s drug problems. He told you about his fiancée, about how the hit out on him was probably one of the best things that ever happened to him.

“I miss my family and squad, will always miss them. But until the Western Italian Mafia is dealt with, I can’t go home. And that syndicate is huge; I doubt I ever could go home.” He let out a small chuckle. “After meeting you, though, I don’t know if I want to go home, either.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you tell me all this?” you muttered, conscious of how loud you were talking. “Aren’t you supposed to keep it secret?”

“Technically, yes. Only the FBI and that doctor who pronounced me dead knows. But I…I couldn’t give you all of myself until I gave you, well, all of myself,” he explained, his expression pleading.

You felt goosebumps on your arms. “You really trust me that much?”

“Darling,” he said, shaking his head. He took your hands in his. “I trust you with my life. You’re it, the end game for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears sprung up in your eyes. “I don’t care if your name is Mike Jones, or Dodds, or anything! I love you, and only you. I want to grow old with you, too.”

The widest grin stretched across his face before he got up from his chair. He came around the table and kneeled in front of you, releasing your hands to cup your face. He used his thumbs to brush the tears from your face before pulling you to him in a kiss full of love and passion.

You leaned back slightly. “You’re safe here in California, right?”

“I should be, yes.”

You nodded. “Good, because I don’t want to lose you. And I’d fight a mafia for you.”

Mike huffed out a laugh, and you tugged him back in for another kiss.

*****************

Something that Mike learned a few months later was that his driver’s license and birth certificate were enough of an ID to get married. It was a small ceremony, just you, Mike, and your parents. You both agreed that Mike’s parents had both already passed, and he was an only child. Mike got to wear a tuxedo once more, and he dimly thought about what it would’ve been like to marry Alice back in Manhattan. But then he saw you in your simple dress, and those thoughts faded away. He had never been happier as he stood next to you, signing the marriage license, then bringing you in for a tender kiss. For legal reasons, you decided to keep your last name, but that didn’t stop him from calling you Mrs. Jones, or wifey.

*****************

It took only a month after your wedding for you to wind up pregnant. Both you and Mike were over the moon with excitement and joy. He built the nursery in your home while you made a list of baby names. You were set to have a little boy, and Mike’s only contribution was to veto William and Matthew.

“I don’t want to think about my old family—” he started, but you held up a hand.

“I understand. But what about as a middle name?”

He thought about it. “I guess that’s okay…. Have you chosen a first name yet?”

You smiled softly. “I’m thinking about my father’s name, Phillip. What do you think?”

“I like it. Which do you like more; Phillip William, or Phillip Matthew?” For the same legal reasons, Phillip would have your last name, rather than Mike’s fake one.

You gave him a look. “I chose the first name; this one is on you. Besides, I like them both.”

“You’re a lot of help,” Mike teased, chuckling.

******************

Eight months later, Phillip Matthew was born, happy and healthy. He was absolutely perfect, and neither you nor Mike could be prouder or more in love with him. Of course, you both had closed the bookstore for a week while you were in labor and afterwards, both of you doting on your newborn. And when Mike went back to work, it was for limited hours. The town was understanding, almost overtly so.

In fact, you never had to buy diapers—at least for the first few months. Your neighbors gifted you diapers, clothes, food, anything you could happen to need. The bookstore’s hours change to 8am until noon. Then it closed for an hour and reopened until 5pm. Mike worked mornings now; you were busy with Phillip and pumping milk for the afternoon. Then he’d come home, and you’d eat lunch together before you went to the bookstore, leaving Mike to watch and play with Phillip. It was a perfect arrangement, and you were both happy and in love.

Time seemed to fly by; soon enough, Phillip was crawling, then standing, then walking. He was a Daddy’s boy through and through, always following him around the house. His first word was “dada,” and Mike started taking Phillip with him on his evening jogs—he didn’t take morning jogs anymore, instead wanting to spend his mornings with you and Phillip. And when Phillip saw Mike working out, he would attempt to copy him, much to your amusement and worry.

One day, Mike was doing pushups in the living room, and Phillip couldn’t look away. He was still just under two-years-old, and he got down on his knees. You came into the room just in time to watch Phillip, on hands and knees, slam his face into the ground in an attempt at a pushup. You gasped and went to make sure he was alright, but Mike held up a hand, watching his son intently. Instead of crying, Phillip looked up at his father, waiting for praise.

“That was great, Phil. But try not to hit your head on the ground,” Mike said slowly, as if Phillip would understand what he was saying.

Mike got back in a pushup position, and Phillip followed. “Watch me, big guy,” he muttered, slowly going down to the ground. Phillip mimicked, eyes wide and locked on his dad’s grinning face. And when he pushed back up to his knees, Mike’s smile grew.

“Honey, did you see that?! Our little man did a pushup!” Mike announced, moving to sit and pulling Phillip into his lap, hugging him and murmuring encouragement.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I can’t believe you’re having him do pushups with you. You’re going to make him a bodybuilder by five!”

Mike guffawed, picturing it. “Nah—I can get him there by age three.”

You grinned, gazing at your happy family while Mike rolled onto his back, holding Phillip at arm’s length above him.

#mike dodds x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

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ethereal-bang · 4 years ago

Text

Strawberries and Red Wine

Characters: Minho x fem reader

Words: 4.8k

Type: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

Warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving)

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!!

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it.

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh-- but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously.

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today...” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so...Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness.

“Really.”

“I would love that.”

__________

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this-- candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It's Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold-- the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

Bad idea.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You help him finish making pancakes, and when the front door opens, you hear little feet making their way to the kitchen, followed by the sound of Seungmin’s voice. “Hey, Minho I figured I’d stop in and say hi since I’m dropping off your- oh. Hello.” Seungmin says as he sees you at the counter with said man. “Hi,” you say quietly, giggling at his expression. “Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”

________________________________________________________________

Masterlist

#this took FOREVER #but ITS FINALLY HERE #Minho smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #ryn's work: stray kids #ryn's work: minho

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darkeninganon · 3 years ago

Text

Heyo! Back at it again with Ghost Dream (Gream). He has a little weirdness happen in this chapter, mostly because my brain just yeeted off to Pluto. I don’t think I need any Trigger warnings, I mean... Tommy gets a little shaken up emotionally, but beyond that, this is a pretty safe chapter.

Gream smiled, setting up the final blocks to complete the diorama on the table. It had taken many days, but finally Gream had completed it, with the help of Tubbo, Ranboo, and Tommy. It was an exact replica of the server. Well, with a few changes. Some places had no walls, and the building in place of the prison was nothing more than an obsidian box surrounded by red and orange string. There were also the dolls, almost exact replicas of the people of the SMP.

Almost.

Tomothy had a blue sweater on, instead of whatever the real Tommy was wearing. William was grey-skinned, had no white streak, and was wearing a yellow sweater. Prezbo was wearing a classy suit, reflecting his position of power. Lethe was wearing a cloak and bandages over his eyes. Gream even made one like himself, naming it "Nightmare", it lacked a mask though. He was not about to try and figure out how to make a doll-sized mask. There were so many more as well: A centaur-like creature named "The Warden" sat on top of the prison box, a tall cloaked figure standing in a sandy area along with many other smaller ones, including a fox man; most notably was a figure in a bloody suit with crooked eyes, a pink scar slashing vertically through one, a beanie, a gold tooth, and a square smile. "Fangs", "Raev", "Sir"....

Gream shook his head, fear and dread creeping up his spine and making his stomach roll. He sighed, setting the dolls down after inspecting them. Raev was his favorite in the group; Gream had given him bright orange hair and a smile, plus a cute green-black suit. It clashed with the hair and fur, but Gream didn't mind, it was kind of cute in a way.

Gream continued to just stare at the little scene, sitting cross-legged as he took it all in. All of these characters were related, their stories tied together in some way. Gream reached over, pulling Nightmare from the little brick house he stood on and placing the doll in the cell The Warden stood on. That was where Nightmare belonged.

Gream spun to look at the door as the floor creaked, Tommy looming in the doorway, staring at the ghost.

"Hey there. Your table is finally done?" The teen asked, stepping into the room and over to the table. He wouldn't deny, it made him nervous; it was a replica of the SMP with New L'Manburg, the oldest version of the Community House, and the maximum security cell of the prison, plus Snowchester and Las Nevadas. It was like the server had been spliced between several time periods. "Looks good."

Gream looked back at the table, nodding. "Thanks. I also made the dolls." Gream motioned to them. He noticed Tommy tense, specifically when looking at the one in the prison. "That's Nightmare. He belongs in jail."

Tommy knew Dream was... quiet, to put it lightly, but he had never seen Gream do the same. "Yeah, and why's that?" he asked, sitting next to the ghost.

"He did a lot of bad things." Gream grabbed the doll, pulling it from the "jail" to look at it more.

"Well... sometimes people do bad things for a good reason-"

"That doesn't make it okay. Nightmare did a lot of bad things. He wanted to have a family... He wanted Tomothy to be his little brother, but Tomothy chose William, and William was a megalomaniacle dick to everyone, even Nightmare. But then William died and things got better." Gream placed Nightmare back in the cell. "But... William managed to convince Tomothy that Nightmare was evil, and Nightmare saw people drifting apart because he gave Prezbo a test, and Prezbo failed it." He grabbed the two dolls, holding them close. He then placed Prezbo back in the town he had built, placing Tomothy in a bare plains-like area with wooden fort-like walls around him. "Prezbo kicked Tomothy out of their home because Nightmare got mad and threatened the town. Then, Nightmare tried to... twist? Corrupt? No, neither of those words work..."

Tommy's breath hitched, and it took a moment for him to speak; "Manipulate?" His voice pitched up. Fuck, he really had to get that under control. It was such a tell.

Gream looked to Tommy, nodding solemnly. "Yeah. Nightmare tried to manipulate Tomothy into liking him. Like William had done when alive. Instead, Tomothy just hated him more." Gream picked up another doll, rolling it around. "Then, Nightmare asked for Lethe's help. A favor. Lethe needed to protect the server, but he had to forget everything unless there was actual danger. A True threat. They cast some... spell or something, and Lethe forgot." Gream placed the doll in the area that looked like Snowchester, and now Tommy could see who it looked like: Ranboo. "there is a way to reverse it, but... I don't know if Lethe knows it."

Tommy watched, listened. It was so obvious who was meant to be who. It was like Gream... Wait... "Hey, so... you said Nightmare wanted a family, right?"

"Yeah."

"So... he made everyone think he was evil... and now he's in jail, yeah?"

"That's right. Mostly. He is in jail."

"Well... did... I mean, how did he get in there?"

Tommy watched as Gream seemed to think, staying silent and still before grabbing "Nightmare" from his cell. "Well... everyone teamed up against him. But... even though he'd never see anyone again, he was happy."

"Why?"

"Because, they were finally a family." Gream placed the little doll back in the cell. His voice was soft, wistful.

Tommy nodded. "Pardon me." He stood and left, Gream nodding to show he had heard. Tommy barely made it to the stairs, clinging to the railing as he finally broke. Gream was... He wasn't just playing out his memories, he was sharing what he felt and his thoughts at the time. Dream was... Jealous? No, that didn't excuse his actions, at all! He was still worse than... But... No, he wasn't. Dream was just more physical, less mental.

Tommy took out his communicator, sending a message to Tubbo and Ranboo: We need to talk. Meet me at Snowchester. Bring the others Ranboo. Tommy grit his teeth. He couldn't let Wilbur near Gream. Wilbur would see Gream as an easy mark, and likely a way into Las Nevadas. Sure, seeing Dream's version of everyone on the SMP was unnerving, but it was even more unnerving that he has so perfectly replicated Quackity and Las Nevadas. Quackity who was likely the reason Gream even existed in the first place, and also someplace Dream had never seen. Gream probably didn't even know he had done that.

Tommy swung open the front door, hoping to meet the others right at the tunnel; nearly smacking right into Wilbur. Fuck.

"Tommy! There you are! Now, look, I know me and Quackity were a bit intense-"

"Not now Wilbur."

"Okay, but hear me out! We need so much more stone, and more importantly, we need to team up with-"

"I have more important things to worry about here."

"It'll just take a moment! We team up with Tubbo and Ranboo and let them expand into our land right by Las Nevadas, and-"

"I'll talk to you about it later, alright?"

"Alright, but real quick, We also need to come up with a plan to get Dream out of Prison-" Tommy tensed, unseen by Wilbur; "Because, you know, he has that book that brought me back. God, imagine how useful that'll be! No more death ever! We can fight for eternity and no one can stop-"

Wilbur's head was snapped to the side. Tommy had punched him. "He's not a fucking tool you can just lock up once you're done using him! What the fuck man?!" Wilbur groaned, rubbing his jaw as he slowly turned to look at Tommy, clearly wanting to say something, but too shocked to do so. "You will... never get the revive book, or the power it holds... Dream is... I hope Sam kills you again." Tommy turned away from Wilbur, storming over to the tunnel. He knew Wilbur was following silently behind, confused and desperate to say something, to get to the bottom of why Tommy just punched him.

Tommy stood by the tunnel, furious. Sure, Dream was a dick, and everything would have been solved if Dream had just talked to Tommy, but at the same time... Asking Gream more about Nightmare would shed some light. But he needed everyone else to show up first, to see what Gream was doing. Tommy tapped his foot, staring at the sky as they waited for everyone else.

Ranboo burst from the tunnel, trident in hand, panicked expression, netherite on. "What's going on?!" Someone crashed into the poor half enderman, causing him to make that distinct noise of an enderman in pain as they crashed to the ground.

"Shit! Sorry-" Phil couldn't complete his apology as the rest on the Syndicate tumbled out of the hyper tunnel, crashing into each other.

Tommy snorted, trying his hardest not to laugh as the four people untangled themselves. Ah yes, the most fearsome group on the server, couldn't navigate a hyper tunnel. Tommy lost it as Tubbo came speeding out of the tunnel with a scream, crashing into his platonic husband and causing Ranboo to let out another pained enderman noise. Something about Ranboo yelling like an enderman was just so funny to Tommy, surely he was cursing in the language of the End.

"What did you want to talk to us about, Tommy?" Niki cut in, her usually calm voice cold, snapping Tommy out of his laughing fit.

"Right, uh... Let’s walk and talk, yeah? It's a little tough to explain." Tommy lead the group to the mansion, casting a quick glare at Wilbur. "So, you all know about Gream, yeah? Of course you do, anyways, he was building and working on a table to play games with when it comes to spending time with Big Mike, since neither are really allowed to leave due to safety." Tommy glanced back, making sure everyone was following along; Techno and Wilbur looked completely lost, while Niki looked confused but was clearly listening. "So, the thing about this table, more importantly the dolls he made for the table, is that they're... well... This is going to sound really weird, but it’s everyone and everywhere on the server. You’ll see." Tommy pointed to the door, and everyone crowded around to peer into the room.

Gream sat by the table, looming over it. Even with the cursed mask on, it was clear he was concentrating hard on something. The table and dolls had his full attention. Tommy motioned for everyone to linger back, hiding just outside the door-frame; before he walked in, he let out a quiet cough to not startle Gream. The ghost looked up at the noise, spotting Tommy and nodding at the teen.

"Hey Gream. I... actually had a question for you about that uh... Nightmare character." Tommy carefully walked up to the table, pulling the doll from the cell.

"Well, ask then."

Tommy smiled nervously, fidgeting with the toy. "Well... You said he did bad things because he was angry... jealous, actually. Um, why didn't he just talk it out?" It was such a huge risk, and for all Tommy knew, this could make Gream angry and have the ghost snap like he did back at his house.

Gream was silent, perking up as if thinking about something. Finally, he sighed. "Nightmare... Nightmare can't figure out his emotions... and he doesn't like talking about them... Someone... Hurt him once, someone he loved. It’s something I understand, but... you prefer talking about things, right?"

Tommy was quiet, frozen. "What?"

"I..." Gream pulled on the edges of his mask, a puddle of acid began to form under him. "Ever since the incident with Jack and Puffy I... Tommy, you're not telling me the truth, are you? No one is!"

Tommy flinched. He could hear netherite armor being thrown on behind him, but he took a breath, relaxing as he placed the doll back in the cell. "You're right. I haven't been honest. But-" Tommy held his hand up as Gream glared at him; "But I have my reasons. Nightmare... He did bad things for a good reason... He knew he'd go into jail for it, didn't he?"

Gream was silent, thinking again before nodding.

"That's why he asked Lethe for a favor. Well... People do bad things for good reasons all the time. I'm... withholding information from you for some very good reasons. It's not just for your safety, it's also for me. The things I'm keeping from you... they're things I don't like talking about, ever." Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair. It sucked having to try to explain it, but now... Now they'll get to see things from Dream's view... something that no one was interested in before-

"Dream died?!"

Tommy cringed as he was reminded that Wilbur was there. "Yes, Dream died. Congradu-"

Wilbur shoved Tommy out of the way, grabbing Gream's hand and shaking it vigorously. "It's amazing to meet you! You and I were such- Oh man, we had so much fun together! I was... What was the word again? Oh yeah! I was your vassal! You helped me blow-"

Tommy shoved Wilbur away. "Alright, enough! Leave the poor guy alone!" Tommy stood between Wilbur and the ghost, Gream didn't need to know that he helped destroy L’Manburg or was a traitor or anything like that. Wait... Tommy shook his head. Dream was never really on their side.

"You... I don't like you."

"I'm.... What? What do you-"

"You're a megalomaniac aren't you?" Gream crossed his arms, glaring at Wilbur from behind his mask. "You... You were... Why do I hate you?" Gream turned away, pacing around until he looked to the table. He grabbed Nightmare and William, setting them up along with Tomothy on a hill. He stared at them, gently fiddling with Nightmare as he stayed quiet.

Wilbur went to go say something, but Tommy stopped him, staring intently at the ghost.

"You could have been a good leader... But I don't want to be a good leader. I hate you so much, I'm going to be worse than ram man... I will tear this place apart because I hate you... Tomothy gave up everything and you gave up nothing, you are going to get him killed..."

Gream removed Tomothy, setting him up with Prezbo on top of an obsidian wall. "Can't we all just be a family... No, you're the bad guy... but why?" Gream stopped, picking up Nightmare and holding him close. "But why?"

#Gream #Ghost Dream #mcytg/t #mcyt g/t #Gream is trying to remember things #but he doesn't see himself/Dream/Who Dream Became as the same #So if he were to ever make a ''pre-wilbur'' version of himself #he'd call it Dream as opposed to Nightmare #I was super creative with names wasn't I? XD #He also references the incident with George #angst

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