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hysteria-things · 4 months

Note

Love your two works! Could you write something about Matt dating a girl in college and his reaction to meeting all her friends?

BELLA NOTTE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your college friends have been asking to meet your boyfriend for a while. he’s visiting for a weekend, but the downside is that he’s terrified to meet them.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: anxiety, cutesy fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 865

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you anon! i hope you like this. i loved writing it :)

the laughter died down after a few minutes, you and your two closest college friends hanging out in their dorm. your friends sat in their assigned bed while you sat in the beanbag in the corner. it was thursday night on your lovely college campus.

“so y/n.” your friend jasmine starts, throwing her now empty soda bottle with the food bags scattered in the middle of the room. “when are we going to meet that boyfriend of yours?”

you smile, a light blush forming on your cheeks. you go to school in LA, meaning that visits to matt or vice versa are easy. the only thing is that jasmine and sage have yet to meet him.

they ask about him a lot, and your answer is always ‘soon.’

however, matt is supposed to come tomorrow and stay the weekend.

“for real, girl. i’m starting to think your delusions are getting to the best of you and he’s not real.” sage jokes, licking her spoon with ice cream on it.

“he is real.” you say. “lucky for you guys, he’s coming to visit for the weekend tomorrow. i can tell him you guys are dying to meet him.”

the duo let out girlish squeals. “this is so exciting! he sounds like such a good guy.” jasmine smiles over at you.

you return it and nod. “he is.”

matt knocks at your dorm door in the late afternoon, making you spring up from your bed and open it. “matt!”

“hey, baby.” he greets, pecking you on the lips before entering your single dorm.

he sets his backpack down next to your bed and rubs his sweaty hands on his pants. “so, uh… when are they coming?”

“around seven. we still got a few hours.” you walk over to your bed and sit. you scan matt’s face, and you can tell he’s nervous.

the lip-biting, the hand fiddling, the looking at the ground.

“you have nothing to worry about, love,” you reassure, grabbing his hands and rubbing your thumbs on them to calm him.

“i know.” he sighs, sitting down beside you. “can we watch lady and the tramp?”

one thing about matt is that whenever he’s feeling anxious about something, he turns to binging disney movies to distract him. it’s one of the many qualities you love about him because even at twenty, he doesn’t let the kid in him go.

the closer seven rolls around, matt’s fiddling and lip-biting don’t get any better. your head rests on his chest, the both of you facing the small TV you have. you can hear his heartbeat.

“talk to me, matt,” you say calmly, being that all you hear in your ear is the erratic pump of his heart.

“is it stupid for me to be so scared?” he asks lowly, playing with your hair.

you lean off of him so you can face his front. he has a look of worry on his face, and it makes your heartache.

“not at all. it’s normal to be nervous when meeting new people.” you stroke his face with your hand, and he leans into your touch. he kisses your palm.

“if you get too anxious, i can ask them to leave. they won’t mind at all.”

he exhales. “thank you.”

bella notte starts to play on the TV, and the music makes you smile. out of all the binging disney movies with matt, this song has to be your number one.

“listen.” you exclaim, pointing to the TV. “it’s going to be a bella notte. a beautiful night. trust me, okay?”

your disney reference forces the cutest smile on his face and he nods.

you kiss him on the head and as if on queue, a knock floods the room. “come in!”

sage is the one to walk in first, jasmine following behind. she glances at the TV and gasps. “omg i didn’t know you guys were watching a movie. we can come back when it’s over—”

“not at all.” matt smiles at them. he takes your hand in his and squeezes. “why not watch it with us? i’m matt, by the way.”

“i’m sage, and this is jasmine. it’s so nice to finally meet you! y/n doesn’t shut up about you.”

“sometimes it gets a little too intense.” jasmine says, but in a joking manner.

“sorry, i love him,” you say coldly. you hear matt giggle.

the girls get comfortable in chairs and join you guys in the movie.

as the minutes go by, you sense that matt starts to calm down a little. the whole time his hand is in yours, playing with the ring he got you for one of your anniversaries.

he chirps into some conversations, and the night is better than you can imagine.

matt wakes up the next morning to the sun beaming through your curtains. what he didn’t wake up to was you.

he looked around the dorm room, but you were nowhere to be seen. he groggily reached to his phone to see if you texted him but instead found a note on top of it.

he started to read the small piece of paper, smiling like a fool while doing so.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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thekissofaphrodite · 4 months

Note

Hiii im absolutely in-love with your writing and I was wondering if you could do Clarisse X daughter of Hecate (ive seen a few fics of this dynamic and as a child of Hecate and someone who has a massive crush on clarisse I love seeing works like those lmao)

THIS IS AMAZING OML. TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!! THIS IS SO FUN TO MAKE <33

Black Magic

Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Hecate!Reader

Summary: Brewing potions and matchmaking is a fun but not much fun as admiring the infallible Clarisse La Rue.

Warnings: KISSING. (i noticed that almost all of my requests had this warning :P )

Author's Note: I'M BACK WITH MY LAPTOP! AND I'LL TAKE A DAY OFF FROM SCHOOL SINCE IM TIRED FROM TRAVELING BUT HERE I AM! I DO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS.

You loved the smell of brewing potion.

As a child of Hecate, you and your half siblings were often known as witches and matchmakers at camp. But still, some campers looked you in the eye and would call you a freak, Boasting about how their godly parent were part of the olympians, pointing at your mother's lack of place beside the Olympians.

Still, you've got a queue of campers (Mostly girls) waiting outside your cabin, The first ones left your workshop with a big smile on their faces or clutching their best friend whispering excitedly.

you and your siblings don't exactly share the same power for your mother had blessed you with different, but divine powers, and sure enough, you got foreseeing.

But some also left with a distraught expression and muttering a string of curses at you...It's not your fault that that their crushes aren't interested in them! You're just a fortune teller!

"B-but this is a mistake! I love Presley! your magic is wrong!" Cried a girl from the aphrodite cabin, tears streaming down her cheeks, smudging her mascara, You gave her a sympathetic look before sighing.

"That's not what it said here..." You looked down at your cauldron with purple-ish pink bubbling liquid, The Boy, who you assumed was presley, had another girl in his arms, twirling her around as they dance into a romantic song. The aphrodite girl stormed away furiously, purposely knocking down several of your stacked candles and jars full of ingredients.

Then, You saw the girl bump into someone, It was Clarisse. The girl frowned, but then gulped when she saw Clarisse staring back at her.

The moment Clarisse saw you, her eyes soften a little bit, her lips curling into a smile as she watched you get flustered.

"Hey"

"Hey" You blushed as you hid your face in a book.

"Can i try?" Clarisse asked.

"Try what?" You raised your brow, staring at her carefully, The cauldron separating you two in between.

"That fortune potion thingy, I wanna know who i'd end up with" Her words made your heart break a little bit, You had a big crush on clarisse la rue the moment you stepped inside camp, and now here she is, you crush asking you to foresee her future with someone else.

You swallowed your disappointment and anger before nodding, your face frowning a little bit as you set your book down and grabbed a pair of scissors.

"I need a piece of your hair" You said, Clarisse then grabbed the scissors and cut a decent amount of hair.

She watched you carefully, her brown eyes glinting with admiration as you recited latin and greek spells before dropping her hair into the cauldron, the smoke started rising and the liquid started bubbling, at first, you thought your eyes deceived you, you saw yourself with clarisse, sitting under a tree your back leaned against hers as you two laughed, hands intertwined as the sun rays hit you two.

you became breathless, your body stiff, Clarisse was confused, her dark brows raised as she scanned your expression.

"Oh my gods, please don't tell me it's Chris Rodriguez" She said, she secretly hoped it would be you, the thought of chris rodriguez and her being all lovey dovey made her sick.

When she peaked into the cauldron, She felt victory, joy, ecstasy she couldn't describe it. Every happy emotions filling her as she watched herself and you in the cauldron, laughing while kissing each other's cheeks lovingly.

You became speechless while watching Clarisse's eyes beam with joy, You two stared at each other for a moment before the Ares girl took the matters to her hands and kissed you.

It took you a moment to process what's going on. Then you find yourself kissing her back, pulling her closer as her breasts pressed against yours.

You two were then interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you two quickly pulled away and stepped back. Clarisse pretended to look around while you improvised some words to save you and Clarisse from being caught.

Your half sister, Lou Ellen looked at you and Clarisse before going to her trunk, rummaging into her things.

"I'll have your strengthening draught ready by tomorrow" You blurted at clarisse, You looked at her and she stared back before nodding.

"Of course" She whispered.

As she left, You saw her wink at you cheekily before closing the door.

"What's that ares girl doing here?" Lou Ellen asked.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all" You whispered, still feeling her lingering touch.

A/N: THIS IS AMAZING OMG!!! I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT MORE WITCHY AND STUFF BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS!!

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #xy/n #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarrise pjo #dior goodjohn

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judeswhore · 1 year

Text

coffee, pancakes for two; jude bellingham

summary: coffee dates with jude before class sound way better in your head

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

warnings: mentions of food

notes: you can find my masterlist here

"we're sitting in."

jude's tone was final, firm enough to suggest he wanted no argument from you and the slight raise of his eyebrows and tilt of his head said he was waiting to shut down any attempt you gave. he held on to your waist, fingers soft on the skin beneath your jumper as though he could stop you from running away. not that you would, you wanted your coffee first.

"but i have to squeeze in my last few slides of notes before the exam." you pouted slightly up at him and watched him shake his head as he tapped just above the curve of your bum. the coffee shop was busy with the early hour, students and workers alike waiting for their first hit of caffeine, eager for the few minutes of warmth the small corner establishment offered. despite the stream of people around jude had no issues in tugging you as close as possible, dipping his head and pressing a quick kiss to your jutted out bottom lip.

"you can do that here."

"but you'll-"

"nuh uh," he cut you off with another kiss. "but nothing. you have lectures after your exam and i know for a fact you won't eat anything until at least 5 and it's-" jude checked the clock on the far wall with a pointed look. "8 right now. i wanna make sure you have something before you leave."

your eyes narrowed, fingers tugging at the straps of your bag as he ushered you forward just slightly in the queue. half of you was grateful for him, a fuzzy feeling low in your tummy that he wanted to take care of you, loved you enough to make sure you were okay when he knew sometimes you forgot to put yourself first. the other half of you knew being with him meant you probably wouldn't get much done, his presence alone a distraction, even if he remained quiet.

"i can grab something after my exam."

"i know you won't. so how about you close that pretty little mouth of yours and go find us a table?" this time you rolled your eyes and jude grinned, kissing the side of your head. "don't roll your eyes at me."

"you're so bossy."

"maybe you should just listen to me then." knocking your elbow into his side you pulled away from him, gaze sweeping the cafe for somewhere to sit. jude's fingers were still on your back, thumb brushing back and forth almost absentmindedly against your skin and it had you half melting into him, any hint of protest gone from you as you nodded towards an empty table by the window.

"m'gonna sit over there."

"you want your usual?"

"yes please." he squeezed your hip in a sign of acknowledgement and then you were weaving your way to the table, sitting yourself down with your back to your boyfriend. you were already pulling your laptop from your bag, setting it on the table in front of you and pulling up your notes, attempting to get at least a little bit of reading done while you were here.

you'd read three pages of an assigned journal before jude appeared at the side of the table, a tray balanced in his hand. his brows were drawn together, tongue peaking out from the corner of his mouth in a way that had you giggling. his gaze snapped to yours then to your laptop.

"scoot that out the way."

"i'm busy."

"you want your coffee or not?" shifting the laptop off to one side to make room you peered at the tray, gaze sliding over the two cups of coffee and landing on the small stack of pancakes, a small boat of maple syrup beside them. "almost got those for free." jude had settled into the seat opposite you and was in the process of shrugging his black jacket off, twisting to drape it over the back of his chair. he was wearing a plain white tee underneath and you hated him just a little for looking so effortlessly pretty in such a minimalist outfit.

"the barista was a fan?"

"the barista thought i was cute." your gaze snapped up from admiring his arms at that, a grimace twisting your lips as you reached for your coffee. it was warm beneath your hands, eased the slight chill that had been in your fingers since leaving the house that morning.

"clearly has terrible taste, all that caffeine must be going to her head."

"yeah? what's your excuse?"

"i know what your bank account looks like."

"funny." jude knocked his foot against yours beneath the table, locked it around your ankle and tugged softly. "what was it you were saying this morning? i'm sure you were telling me how fit i am, couldn't keep your hands off me."

jude had poured the syrup over the pancakes and you used your fork to cut a piece free, popping it into your mouth with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"oh really? you don't remember begging me to-"

"i swear to god, bellingham, if you finish that sentence." you pointed your fork at him in an attempt to look threatening but jude only grinned. your cheeks suddenly felt hot with the reminder of what had happened only an hour earlier and the fact that your boyfriend was so ready to air it out despite the old couple sitting at the table next to you.

"what?" he was pretending to be innocent, taking his own forkful of pancakes but his lips had tilted into a teasing smile. "i was gonna say how you kept begging me not to leave the bed."

"yeah, sure you were. these are really good by the way."

"thanks, i think they really went out of their way to impress me."

"the size of your ego never fails to amaze me." you turned to your laptop, pulling up your notes to skim over, aware that jude was still smiling over at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"only the size of my ego?"

"nothing else is big enough to impress me."

"'oh jude! please don't stop, s'just so good.'" the toe of your shoe smacked harshly into jude's ankle, your glare enough to seer through his head as his fake moans tapered off into soft giggles. the couple beside you sent a look of disgust your way, muttering away to each other as heat crawled up your cheeks.

"seriously? you're ridiculous."

"just tryna jog your memory."

"you don't have to be so loud about it, you're gonna get us kicked out. and i do not sound like that."

"no, you're a lot louder. and more whiney, kind of like a-"

"shut up." he only laughed at your tone, held his hands up in mock surrender before reaching for one of yours. he held your hand in his, the black ring on his finger a cold sting against your skin as he slowly lowered his head. with his gaze still on yours, he kissed your knuckles.

"m'sorry babe."

"hmm you will be. here, make yourself useful." you pulled your hand away and pushed your laptop towards him, finger pointing to a small list of questions you were sure were going to be on the exam. "ask me these?" you watched him read over the words, his brows scrunching, nose crinkling as he glanced back up at you.

"you know what these things mean?"

"i hope so."

"it's so hot that you're smart."

"stop being a flirt and help me, would you."

for the next twenty minutes jude managed to behave himself, asking you the questions set out, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your mouth whenever you got it right, leaning in and kissing you even softer if you made a mistake because "kissing makes you smarter or whatever, it's biology". he'd cut off little slices of pancake for you, holding the fork in front of your lips and urging you to take a bite while your eyes skimmed the notebook you'd pulled from you bag.

once you'd made your way through all of the questions he pushed the lid of your laptop closed, slid it back into your bag for you before you could complain. "you're sorted for this, take a break before you burn yourself out.” you didn’t protest like he’d thought you would, only settled your elbows on the table, chin propped in your hands. jude had ordered a croissant halfway through your study session and he tore a bit of pastry off, pressed it between your lips with a tilt of his head.

“why’re you staring at me like that, weirdo.” he hadn’t missed the soft look in your eyes, the lovesick smile that was growing as you shrugged your shoulders. he copied your position, elbows on the table, chin in his hand and suddenly you were both almost nose to nose, his eyes locking on yours.

you sat quietly for a moment, took in the lighter flecks in his dark eyes, the slope of his nose and the full outline of his lips. he was trying to grow out his facial hair, the dark stubble on his chin and jaw almost begging you to drag your lips over it, to leave behind soft marks, too light for anyone to see. his full attention was almost making you squirm, heat blossoming in your tummy and rising until your heart felt ready to burst.

“i love you.” jude blinked a little in surprise at your sudden confession, not that he’d never heard it before, you said it often enough, he just hadn’t been expecting it in that moment. you cocked your head and sent him a somewhat shy smile. “thank you for the breakfast.”

“the pancakes were more for my benefit than yours, i was starving.” a soft snort left you as you shook your head.

“i’m being serious.”

“i know,” he pressed his foot to yours beneath the table. “but you don’t have to thank me.”

“i know.” again the two of you went quiet, neither of you wanting to be the one to look away first. jude’s eyes crinkled at the corner when he grinned, his head nudging to one side slightly.

“c’mere.” he didn’t give you the chance to move forward, he closed the gap himself, lips slotting softly over yours.

the kiss was slow, a gentle brush of his mouth over yours, broken rather quickly from fear of upsetting the couple still sitting a few feet away. jude didn’t move back straight away however, just bumped his nose against yours. “i love you too by the way.” then he was sitting back, pulling his jacket back over his shoulders, gaze tracking the time on his watch. “c’mon i’ll buy you one of those ice lattes and walk you to campus.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

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soobnny · 1 year

Text

24 hour stream — lhs.

trope. established relationship. streamer!au

synopsis. you think it’s adorable how heeseung seems to be fighting his exhaustion in favor of being with you as you finish your twenty-four hour stream (1.1k words)

warnings. none

note. hello this is totally self indulgent but enjoy streamer!heeseung making an appearance again cos i miss writing streamer content >:( btw thank u to user notrenes i got inspired by that clip u sent of quarterjade and masayoshi i love them truly

[4:27 AM]

The monitor of your computer is bright, reflecting rather harshly on your face as you fight to keep awake while entertaining chat. The room is much lonelier than it was hours ago – Winter and Ningning had dropped by earlier to join you for your stream, playing in real life games and taste testing hot wings on different scales of spicy.

They left with Winter’s upset stomach grumbling and Ningning laughing as she escorted the pair of them back to their shared home. After they left, you decided to queue up some Valorant to shave some time off of your 24-hour goal.

Currently, your clock is mockingly situated by your set-up, screaming the time and reminding you that you only have a few hours left until you’ve accomplished your 24-hour stream. You had long finished Valorant and were just talking to chat, searching for another game that you could play by yourself that’s still entertaining to the people viewing your stream.

To battle the exhaustion and tiredness in your system (with the hint of a headache you had briefly mentioned to chat), you decide that playing a horror game would be an appropriate choice. Chat’s been requesting you do a horror stream for a while, and you realize now might be a good time to do it.

You first hear it midgame, when you’ve paused to recover from the horrifying monster design that was chasing your character. Your head snaps towards the direction of your door, staring at it to see if you’ve heard right. Thinking that it was just part of the background soundtrack of the game, you turn back to your monitor.

The second time, it’s unmistakable.

“I think someone’s knocking on my door, chat.”

As if to confirm your suspicions, the knocks come back and in goes Lee Heeseung, your bleary and half-asleep boyfriend who makes his way towards where you’re sat.

“Hi!” You greet him, surprised he was still awake at this hour. He had just done a long stream and finished only a few hours ago – you assumed he wouldn’t be awake until afternoon. Maybe something had woken him up?

It doesn’t take long before Heeseung’s plaguing your monitor with his presence, breezing his lips across your forehead to press a soft kiss on your cold skin. Then, placing a careful hand on your shoulder, he hands you a newly refilled bottle of water and a pill.

“Here, take some medicine.” Heeseung pays no mind to chat, pushing his hand in your direction and offering you a strict gaze before a warm smile follows. You take it from him confused, staring down at it before you look back at your boyfriend. “You came here just to give me medicine?”

“You mentioned on-stream that your head was aching.”

“You were watching my stream?” Even after years of being in a relationship with Heeseung, he never failed to trigger your heart into a million cartwheels.

Heeseung hums, eyelids starting to drop again and your heart warms at the sight of him trying to fight it. “Now drink up and get better, okay?” You nod your head, placing the medicine on your tongue before swallowing it down.

“Oh, it’s so cold.” You say in amusement when your hands make contact with the bottled water, immediately placing it down by your side after taking a few gulps. Then, your lips drop into a pout, holding onto his hand which he happily offers. “Babe, I’m so tired.”

“Do you want coffee?” Heeseung offers thoughtfully, looking down at you and giving you every bit of his attention despite exhaustion chasing after him.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I can make you one. No?”

You hum. “It’s okay.”

“Alright. Are you cold?”

“Only a little.”

It seems your response triggers Heeseung to leave your room briefly (not without a kiss on the crown of your head) before coming back with one of his hoodies, wrapping you in its incredibly soft cloth.

Your boyfriend’s sweet gestures don’t go unnoticed, causing an instant frenzy in your chat.

heeyn4ever: the way i cried

imgaylol: MUST BE NICE

breadlover: where’d my toaster go

gardenclub: my therapist cant help me but heeseung could

Trying not to disturb you and your stream any further, he gently pulls another chair from your room, dragging it towards where you’re seated before plopping down – just enough so he isn’t really seen on your stream.

“Hi chat.” Heeseung greets your chat respectfully, waving and blinking a few times to try and let their comments and responses sink in. “Sorry for stealing my girlfriend for a bit.”

“You’re staying?”

“Figured you could use some company.”

You smile gratefully at him, feeling him lean his head against your shoulder, tired eyes fixed on the screen of your monitor and urging you to continue the game you had been playing earlier so he didn’t disturb chat. Your fingers rest on the controllers, pressing the necessary buttons to navigate through the map. One of Heeseung’s hands is cradling the back of your head, and every once in a while, he would brush the stubborn pieces of hair in front of your face and place a sweet kiss on the side of your head.

His eyes open again after closing them briefly, leaning comfortably against your shoulder and following along your character in the game. You adore him, and you think he’s so adorable, and you can tell he’s extremely tired. You can tell because he keeps yawning, eyes disengaged from time to time as he goes over chat.

Sensing your gaze, Heeseung slowly looks back at you. His lips twitch into a smile. He murmurs, voice heavy with fatigue. “Why’d you stop playing?”

“I can’t seem to get past this part.”

“Here, let me help you.”

You pause to widen your smile. “Hee, you don’t have to. I know you’re tired. You should get to bed.” He stares at you, eyes droopy and warm as you speak. His pink lips form into a gentle pout at your words.

“How many hours left til your stream ends?”

“Just 6 hours more.”

“I can handle 6 hours. I’ll just be quietly sitting here if you need anything.” Heeseung waves goodbye to chat before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead as he moves away again.

[10:00 AM]

Your 24-hour stream ends, and as promised, Heeseung is seated by you. He endured the long hours to make sure he was there if you needed anything — food, water, or just his company as someone you can talk to so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

His ears perk up when you bid farewell to chat, and then he’s standing.

“Bye, chat.” His hand comes into your monitor’s view, waving politely. When you shut off your stream, Heeseung is quick to pick you up in his arms. “I finally have you to myself.”

“Mhm, all yours again.”

“Never wanna share you with chat for 24 hours again. No more 24 hour streams.”

#k-labels #heeseung fanfic #heeseung oneshot #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x y/n #enhypen heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #reader insert #enhypen x you #fluff #established relationship #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung fic #lee heeseung oneshot

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refiwrites · 1 year

Note

hello there! can i request 8 (shielding the other one with their body) and 9 (listening to the other’s heartbeat) with Spider, please?

couldn't resist and I made this into a Na'vi reader bc why not, but let me know if you wanted something different!

also fight scenes are literally my weakness why did i do this to myself.. anyways let me know your thoughts!

Touch Prompt Number 8. Shielding the other one with their body & 9. Listening to the other's heartbeat with Spider Socorro

Pairing: Spider Socorro x GN! Sully! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warning/s: slight(?) ATWOW spoilers, typical violence, swearing

GIF is mine

Eclipse had set; however, you weren’t out of the woods yet.

You were still held captive, the avatar holding your queue in a tight grasp, often yanking it to keep you still, in which you return by hissing at him. Spider, who was being held in front of you to scold them. “Stop that.”

It didn’t help that rain also started to pour moments ago.

“Watch your 6.” You could hear the leader say to the one holding you, leading him to haul you when turning, still pulling on your queue making you grunt. You couldn’t do anything as your hands were clasped together.

You just breathed in deeply.

Then a few seconds passed, the sounds you could hear were only the pattering of rain and occasional animal sounds. But then an all too familiar sound catches your ear, making it twitch towards that direction, with you turning your head.

You could tell your siblings and Spider heard it too.

Seeing Spider take a quizzical look at Lo’ak and for him to nod, you guessed it had confirmed Spider’s guess.

It was your mother.

You heard it again.

Opening your mouth as you let out a prayer, you could only thank Eywa that they found you, and that you pray for the ones who are about to face the wrath of your mother and father.

“Shut up!” He whisper-shouted at you, tugging on your queue again making you wince.

You continued, looking the guy in the eye as he moved in front of you. “Shut u—”

He didn’t get to finish as an arrow came straight through his head.

You gasp as the others took action.

Then you were pushed to the side along with Spider as they opened fire out in the forest.

Lo’ak then made the smart decision to set off the gas on one of the avatar’s vest, spraying everywhere.

Then you could see Tuk and Lo’ak bite the arms of their captors, successfully letting them go.

“Go, go, go!” Lo’ak ushered, helping Tuk climb over the branch.

“Run!” Spider said to you, hoisting you up and you followed him.

You can almost taste the escape when your queue was suddenly dragged again, making you scream and Spider to turn around with a horrified look on his face.

Trying to break free, you were once again released as an arrow came through, barely missing you and hitting your captor, sending him flying over to the side.

You froze, only regaining your senses when Spider reached out to you, grabbing you and pushing you in front of him to give you a head start. “Run!” He shouted again.

For Spider, your safety was his priority.

Continuous gun shots rang in your ears as you ran.

“Come on!” Spider said as you kept running.

Then you heard silence, followed by a shout and another round of ammunitions being released.

It continued then suddenly there was an explosion.

It made your heart spike, panic filling your senses once again.

“Spider, come on hurry!” You said.

It was too late as another explosion happened just behind you, sending you to the ground as Spider was knocked off, tumbling down onto the lower ground as he screamed in pain.

“Spider!!” You screamed, halting in your movements, your eyes flickering to see if you can find his figure in the dark.

“Spider!” You shouted once more as you look to the side to see your mother approaching. “(Y/N)!”

You didn’t listen. “Spider!” You still called out.

Then you felt your mother tugging on your arm forcefully, making you stumble back as she pulled you. You resist.

“Spider, he’s down there!” You shout. “Come. We must go, (Y/N)!” Her voice was firm, her hold on your arm was strong.

You take a quick glance at your mother as you looked down. Then you glanced back up at your mother. You knew she didn’t have an ounce of liking towards Spider, but you didn’t care.

You wanted Spider back.

“I’m not leaving him.” You growled at her, breaking free from her hold as you jumped off.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N) no! My child!” You could hear Neytiri scream for you before another explosion sounded, making her spare one more glance at you before fleeing, her thoughts clashing against one another.

You let out pained grunts as your body was met with multiple obstacles, but nothing you weren’t used to. Only then when you finally hit the ground you noticed the restraints on your wrists was broken.

“Spider, spider!” You called, dodging and jumping over branches and vines until you finally found him under a branch.

“Spider, hey... Hey we’ve got to go.” You say, you shake him but it seems like the fall has knocked him out, which also left a few gashes on his sides, his body covered in dirt.

Your heartbeat drummed in your ears as you heard the crunching of footsteps nearing you. You listened intently, knowing that there was only one approaching.

You hurriedly carried Spider to the best of your ability, managing to move him a few feet away when suddenly another one of those avatars appeared.

“I’ve got the boy, sir.” He spoke into his comms.

You took out your dagger. Being one of the eldest has certainly taught you a hefty amount of self defence and you really work well with a dagger.

“Got it, boss, there’s another one here, seems to be protecting him.”

You hiss loudly at him, your ears flattening. You hovered over Spider’s body to shield him from the avatar, dagger held tightly in hand.

“Aw, that’s cute. But you’re gonna have to go, kitty. I don’t want to use this on you.” He said, pertaining to his gun.

Your lips pursed into a thin line, already thinking of what you were going to do when he throws his gun to the side, him pulling out his knife.

“Let’s do this the old-fashioned way.” Then he lunges.

You dashed to the side, jumping over the small terrain, not letting him get close to Spider. He followed you quickly.

You jumped back down, swinging your dagger at him, sending him back.

He then lunges forward at you again, but you were quicker, nimbler as you moved to his side, but he managed to land a small slice, nothing to deep, but it still stung.

You retaliate by slicing behind his knee and kicking it, him letting out a pained yelp as his knee fell to the ground. You were now behind him as you now dashed forward again, you manage to land your dagger on his back as he screamed in pain.

You let go of your dagger stuck to his back as he turned to face you. You felt the adrenaline pumping in your veins as you stared him down.

You were now empty handed.

Making a move, you jumped on his back, quickly wrapping an arm around his neck, putting him in a headlock.

He was much bigger than you and he could easily throw you off, but you didn’t let go. You tightened your grip as you screamed when his knife went down to your thigh. In your effort, you grabbed your dagger once more, taking it off before plunging it on his shoulder this time, nearly close to his neck.

All you could see was red. You weren’t going to give up Spider that easily.

You took your knife again before plunging it again in the same spot then you went back on strangling him.

He tried fighting your hold, his knife forgotten as it clunked to the ground, while his hands tried to reach you.

You evaded him, you felt him tapping on your arm as he was slowly losing air.

Not too long before his actions ceased, body dropping to the ground as you hissed at his unconscious state, grabbing your dagger and limping over Spider’s body, hissing and looking around.

You knew their team would be back any time soon and you had to get moving.

As your adrenaline ran out, you look to your thigh.

“Shit.” You utter

After tying a makeshift bandage for your thigh, you tried carrying Spider to someplace safe, where you knew you’d be safe for the meantime.

So after taking care of Spider, you watched over him.

When he finally stirred awake, he jolted, looking everywhere before he spots you.

“(Y/N).” He spoke.

“I couldn’t... I couldn’t leave you behind.” You reply.

Spider spots the bandage on your thigh, then the faint cut on your scar, making him scurry over to your side. “What happened?”

“One of them was going to bring you in...” You kept the story short.

“Holy shit.” Spider said in awe, but it quickly turned to worry for you. “Why didn’t you run? Look what happened to you.”

“I’m not leaving you.” You said firmly.

As much as you liked the boy, he was quite slow at times. But tonight, that seemed different as he looked at you.

His hand slowly reached up to your chest, to where your heart would be, as he felt it beating a little faster with his touch.

In turn, you smile at him, your even bigger hand going to his chest to feel his heartbeat. You flattened your palm on him as your free hand grabbed his that was on your chest, giving it a light squeeze.

“Thank you.” He said in a whisper, moving closer, resting his forehead on yours, the exopack being the only thing separating your face from touching.

“I see you.” You say, giving him a soft tap on his chest with your palm.

Spider let out a deep breath, blinking at you as he returned the affection.

“I see you.”

637 notes · View notes

kingofthe-egirls · 10 months

Note

Omg! Omg!

Phone Sex after Part. Luffy is back, late at night, still texting with her and he can't wait to see her agin, so detour to her home, and both desperate and happy to see each other again 👀👀

wait wait WAIT OMG ok ok ok

PHONE SEX: LUFFY x Y/N (part 2)

modern au

(cw: flirting, sweet fluff, self-harm scars, shower sex, spider mention, silliness, sweetness, comfort, blowjob, sex, cunnilingus, food mention)

(a/n: the line "enough to make me supernova" is something i wrote a long time ago, back when i was in high school and had no idea what love was, except that i was sure it had to hurt. guess what, teenage writer? you're still a poet. you're happy now, and you have a partner who loves you so much that you can't even handle it sometimes. he makes you cum, all the time!!! effortlessly and without sadness. i love you, lady.)

"You want me to love you in moderation?

Do I look moderate to you?"

Songs: "Moderation" by Florence + the Machine, "Reality Television" by Maude Latour, "No Rush" by Maude Latour, "Lovebomb" by Maude Latour

words: 4.7k

As soon as his plane touches down, Luffy is searching your address on his phone. He's gonna see you, now.

It's been a week.

One whole long week where he's had to reduce himself to jerking off to your smiling videos, or searching your PornHub for new content. He knows you only film one week in advance, videos weekly scheduled as you queue them up. He's watched your latest (a cute clown girl cosplay) and replayed it over a scant thirty times.

Hey, you're hot, okay?

And he has ADHD too: he hyperfixates on things. And watching you suck a silicone dick with a cute red nose and turquoise wig is enough to make him supernova. He stands up as soon as he's able, and reaches overhead for his black-and-red duffel bag.

****

Luffy trudges along the snowy streets, making his way to your apartment complex. He hunches his shoulders against the freezing winds, not so used to the winter weather. He wonders how you can live here all year round. Or, even stay in one place at all. He's got a few houses dotted around the country, plus an apartment in New York City. He travels between them as it suits him.

He likes freedom.

So do you, apparently, as he notes your lifestyle: you're polyamorous, with a long-term girlfriend named Nami. She's sweet as can be (when she needs something). She'd swiped Sanji right away, the first night you all went out together as friends.

The first time you'd kissed.

He hums, smiling at the memory despite the cold. He hugs his arms around himself for warmth, shivering in just his track suit and sneakers.

why do u have to live somewhere so cold??

He texts you, typing with frozen thumbs. Snowflakes gather on his phone screen, as he sees your ellipses pop up.

sorry lol

It's all he gets til he's buzzing his way up to your apartment. It's a one-bedroom you share with your girlfriend (who is politely out of the apartment for the weekend, spending some much needed spa time with friends). He steps through the glass door of your brownstone apartment building, and makes his way up the carpeted stairs.

It's three flights up, with snow falling outside the staircase windows.

Luffy stops in front of your door.

He knocks.

After just one rap of his knuckles, you open the door. You're standing there in shorts and a t-shirt. You're sparkling and alive, and Luffy feels something clench in his chest. He smiles, big as can be, and wraps you up in his arms without a second thought.

"Luffy!" You cry, arms trapped by your sides as he bear hugs you. Your feet lift off the floor. He's strong, you think.

"Missed you so much!!!" He sings into your hair, nestling his nose in the dark strands so he can breathe you in. "Mm, ya smell nice."

You flush, suffocated slightly.

"Missed you too!" You squeak, nuzzling against his cheek. His face is cold and chapped from the wind. "Come inside!" You breathe as he sets you down, "I've got dirty dishes in the sink so don't look."

Luffy laughs, loud and unashamed, as he scoots in after you. He sets his duffel bag down by the door. He kicks off his shoes (designer brand, you notice, with barely a scuff) and skips happily into your studio.

He crashes onto your daybed immediately. It's barely big enough to fit you and Nami, and Luffy's dangling limbs easily take up the whole space. He spreads out like he owns the place, and you snort.

"Want some hot cocoa?" You ask, heading to your tea kettle.

"Yes!!!" Luffy screams, already excited. You turn around to shush him, reminding the professional athlete of your neighbors. "Oh," he says sheepishly, "Sorry, shishi."

He's so cute.

You hum, singing happily under your breath as you start to heat up the water. You're out of milk, so Luffy's just gonna have to deal. It's the Swiss cocoa with marshmallows though, so hopefully that makes up for it. Luffy's never turned down food or drink as far as you've noticed, so you try to let the stress of having him here in your space roll down your shoulders and off your back. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. The kettle starts to sing, and your pour the hot water into two mugs, the chocolate powder already set in the bottom.

"Here," you hand Luffy his cocoa. He slurps it immediately, and gasps at the heat. "Sorry," you grin, sitting down next to him on the bed. You lean over to blow on his drink, cooling it down. Steam curls around his cute, squishy cheeks. You lean forward to peck a kiss on the one closest to you: the one with the scar.

"Where'd you get that?"

Luffy shrugs.

"Stabbed myself."

You choke, spluttering on the hot cocoa. Hot liquid spurts onto your thighs, staining your shorts, and you grimace. You swipe the chocolate drops away, licking your fingers of the sticky sweetness. "Why?"

"Wanted to prove somethin'."

You nod.

"Here," you say, reaching quietly across your body to show him your left forearm. It's marked up in self-harm scars, uneven and sad. "I stabbed myself, too. Well, more like sliced. Sorry," your cheeks heat up as you realize you're talking way too violent for this conversation. Luffy traces the barcode-like scars on your skin.

"Means you're alive," he says simply. And then, "Sorry."

You shake your head. "S'okay. They're old, anyway." You don't show him the scars on your thigh. Bright red and fresh, you're too embarrassed to admit how current your struggle is to him. At least, not yet.

"So," he smiles, gripping his hand around your wrist. "What comes after cocoa?"

Luffy plants a kiss on your forearm, and your face heats up. You look away, too ashamed to mention how much you appreciate his care.

"Watch a movie?" You suggest, softly pulling your arm back into your lap. He scoots closer, wrapping his arms own, muscular arms around you. His t-shirt smells like sweat. "Was it a long flight?"

"Oh, just a couple hours," he lies.

You smirk, bumping your shoulder into his. "We can take a shower if you want," you suggest, arching an eyebrow. He grins maliciously, and your heart flutters. You swallow.

"Sure, kitty."

****

Butterfly decals line your shower's walls, pink and purple and blue fluttering over the white porcelain tile. Luffy scrubs a washcloth over your back, both of you standing naked in the steaming water.

"Hmm," you sigh, letting your shoulders relax. He caresses your sides with the washcloth, letting his other hand snake around your waist. He's so warm, soap sliding between your bodies as he brings you into his heated chest. He smells like the charcoal-eucalyptus facewash you let him use from Nami's shelf of shower necessities. (Your girlfriend won't mind, will she?) Luffy bites at your earlobe.

"Pretty kitty," he croons, rubbing his soft hands over your breasts. He squeezes gently, washing them with soap. The bubbles gather on your chest, sliding around in slippery iridescence. He presses a hot, wet cheek against yours, his chin resting on your shoulder. He sways with you slightly, in the water. His back is closest to the stream: with you standing in front. You trace the butterfly stickers with an index finger, trying to stay upright. Your heat is dripping between your legs, you can already tell.

"Luffyyy," you moan, complaining almost at what he does to you. To your body. He's got this freaking Midas touch, sending golden shivers down your spine at every flick of his calloused fingertips.

"Whaaat?" He grins against your ear: tightening his arms around your waist. Your ass presses against his already hardening cock. You gasp, slightly, and he giggles. His wet hair presses into your jaw.

"Luffy," you say again, breaths coming heavy in your chest, "Fuck me?"

Luffy's breath hitches, his hands tightening around your ribcage. He slides his palms up to cup your breasts, feeling their heaviness in his hands. He groans, biting softly into your shoulder.

"Say please, sweetheart," he says against your ear, voice raspy. He thumbs at your nipples, and you squeal.

"Please, Luffy!" I want you to fuck me so badly.

"If you insist," he giggles, reaching his hand down to slide along your belly. Rinsing his fingers off quickly in the stream of hot water, he deftly finds your clit and starts swiping at it. His fingers are rough from years of martial arts, but you don't mind.

"Mm, lower," you huff, leaning your head back against his shoulder. He kisses your cheek, wet and sloppy with a pop.

"Like that?" He asks, hoarse.

"Mhmm," you nod, letting your eyes fall shut as hot water sings down your face. It trickles down your neck, your collarbones, in the space between your breasts. Luffy holds you close, taking your weight in his strong arms. He stands behind you with the water running down his tanned back, spraying the side of his sweet face. You turn to plant messy kisses along the side of his neck, too.

He fingers you like that for a bit, waiting for your moans to start becoming headier, edgier, needier. "There...," he breathes, once you start heaving stuttering breaths through your open mouth, "Bend over for me, sweetheart." He gently runs one hand down your back, sending you forward to support yourself against the edge of the tub.

"S'alright?" He asks, poking at your entrance with his rock-hard tip. You see stars, pussy clenching uncontrollably.

"Yes, Luffy," you squeak, spreading your legs so he has ample room. He squeezes your ass cheeks, spreading those apart, too. He sighs as he inspects your pussy, fingering softly at the wet folds.

"S'pretty for me," he praises you, rubbing one hand over your ass. He gives the cheeks another squeeze, humming softly as he presses in.

"Shit," you whine, stretched out. "So big, Lu..."

Luffy giggles, and starts fucking you shallowly. "Let's getcha used to me, hm?" He starts off slow, sliding his cock in and out of your entrance. "Feels so good, kitty," he groans, pressing in just a little bit deeper. It stings, but it's sweet. You moan, biting your lip as you rock your hips back onto his cock. He snickers, "Want more?"

"Mhmm!" You croon, spreading your legs as wide as the narrow tub will let you. Your feet are flat on the tub, hands holding onto the edge next to your shampoo bottles and facewash. A small, spindly shape slips out from behind your shower gel, and you shriek. Spider.

"Luffy!!"

You slam back upwards, away from the spider, and hit the back of your head square against his jaw.

"Ack!" Luffy shouts, reeling backward from the weight of your blow. His back hits the tile wall, and he slips. Soon enough, you're both tumbling down and half-out of the still-steaming shower.

"Spider!!!" You shriek, scrabbling out of the shower to stand sopping wet on the bathroom floor. "Kill it!!!!"

"Ah, shit--," Luffy croaks, shutting off the water finally. He stands dripping in the tub, the shower curtain pulled to the side and tangled up. He shakes his wet hair like a dog. "Where?"

"There!" You point at the green bottle of shampoo, closing your eyes against the nightmare image. Arachnophobia. You squirm, reaching for a towel and retreating out into the living space. You leave a trail of wet footprints on the uneven floorboards.

Luffy shuffles around a bit, but eventually shouts, "Got 'em!"

"Thanks," you whisper, shivering as you sit on your bed, toweling off your soaking hair. You sit naked, with your pussy aching from the short-lived sex. Your mood has quickly soured, however, and you lean down to pull a t-shirt from the drawers beneath your daybed.

"Hey, you okay?" Luffy walks back into the room, raven hair shoved backward from his face, revealing a soft widow's peak.

You swallow, shaking your head. "Sorry," you mumble, "Scared."

"S'okay," he says, wrapping a towel around his waist. It hangs low around his hips, the deep line of his V disappearing into the faded purple terrycloth. He comes over to sit next to you on the thin mattress. Your patchy quilt folds beneath his weight.

"You scared of spiders?" He knocks his shoulder into yours. You nod, jaw set, as you pull your black t-shirt on over your head. You lean forward, gathering your hair into a messy bun. It's unbrushed and tangled, but right now you don't really care.

When you flip back up, adjusting the soaking strands, Luffy is staring at you. His brown eyes are shimmering, slightly. "What?"

"So pretty," he murmurs, smiling. He pokes at your cheek, and then takes your chin in his hand. He makes you face him, meeting your eyes. His are wide, and serious. You try not to shy away.

"Spiders are your enemies, then?" He asks, eyebrows drawn down over his face. You nod, seriously. Luffy thumbs your bottom lip. "So now they're my enemy too. I'll take care of the house spiders, for you."

Suddenly, you burst into tears.

"M'sorry!" You say, sniffing, "I just--really hate bugs."

Luffy wraps an arm around your shoulders. His bare skin slides across yours, still wet from the shower. You lean into him, slightly. He sighs, squeezing your upper arm with rough fingers.

"Is this a bad time to mention that beetles are my favorite animal?"

You snort, sobs subsiding as you wipe the heel of your palm across your face. "Seriously?" You ask, sniffling. Luffy nods, sheepish. He scratches a hand through his crow-feather hair.

"S'that a deal breaker?"

You shake your head, laughing a little. "Nope," you say, standing up off the bed. You squat down to rifle through your daybed's drawers. Lilac panties and short shorts are the way to go.

You dress, casually flaunting your bare lower half in front of Luffy. He grins, standing up to slide his warm hands beneath your t-shirt. They softly circle around your waist, pressing into the skin just below your ribcage. He sways you, side to side.

Luffy nuzzles his nose into your cheek. He smells like Nami's soap, which is kinda weird, but sorta satisfying at the same time. You peck a kiss on his cheek, just below his scar.

"So long as you don't, like, put beetles in my bed, I'm fine."

Luffy snorts. "Has that happened before?"

You shift uncomfortably, under his hold. You scratch your heel against the bare wooden floor. "Maybe."

Luffy scowls, ducking his head to make you meet his eyes. They're sunlit from the window, snow having somewhat stopped. Even in the winter sun, dark brown eyes look golden. "I'm not gonna put bugs in your bed, babe."

You snort, levity brought back into the room at his tone. He has a special talent for that. You squeeze his hipbone. "Thanks, Luffy."

He smiles, nodding once.

"Let's go cuddle!" He says, pulling you back onto the daybed. "We can pick up from where we left off," he says with a smirk, and you gasp. He pulls your weight down on top of his lap, lying on his back while you straddle his thighs. The wet scratch of the towel digs into your skin, the knot at his pelvis bulging against your lap.

"Take this off?" You suggest, pulling at the edge of the towel. Dark hair disappears in a soft trail beneath it, and you wanna touch.

"Sure," he says, letting you lean back so he can unwrap the towel from around himself. He lets it drape over the side of the bed, halfway onto the floor. You resume your place, greedily taking in the sight of his hard cock. It's thick, lightly sticky with precum at the cherry-red tip. His skin is slightly bronzed, darker around his dick and balls, too. You lean forward, scooting your ass back so you can kiss and lick around the base of his shaft. Luffy swears under his breath.

"Shit, kitten," he rasps, "You're so good at that."

You hum, happily licking a stripe up the underside of his lengthy shaft. Luffy groans, bucking his hips. You place a hand on his abs, trying to hold him down. You press into his soft abdomen, feeling the muscles clench firm and hard under your touch.

"Like that?" You ask slyly, raising an eyebrow as you tongue at his tip. His face is flushed, eyes dark and hazy. He brings his shiny bottom lip between his teeth, shuddering out an exhale.

"So much."

"Hm," you skip your fingers across his hips, tracing the prominent arch of his hipbones. "Good."

You take him fully into your mouth, sucking harshly as he gasps. You hollow your cheeks, lapping at his vein with a swift tongue.

Luffy starts thrusting into your mouth, forcing you to take him deeper into the back of your throat. You're not the best at deep throating (gag reflex too strong for that shit), but do your best to take him as far back as you can comfortably go.

Luffy rambles, his voice high-pitched and raspy as he babbles, "Y/n, fuck, that's so good baby--mmph--yes, please, keep sucking me like that--," Until he's shuddering in your mouth, spilling his cum already.

You sit up, triumphant.

"S'good?" You ask, wiping your chin with a forearm. He stares at you, hungrily, before leaping up to capture your mouth with his. He sticks his tongue down your throat, lapping up any trace of himself.

"Perfect," he whines, "Lemme do you?"

You nod, switching spots. He steps onto the floor, straightening the blanket out under you so you can lie down. He fluffs the pillows behind your head, sweetly smiling down at you. The fake string lights you put up with Nami sparkle overhead, giving him a faint, twinkly halo. You spread your legs.

Luffy kneels down between them, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he lies down on his stomach. His breath tickles the bare skin of your inner thigh. He presses a wet kiss to your clothed cunt, lapping at you through the thin fabric of your shorts.

"Smells so good," he groans, closing his eyes as he breathes you in. His hips grind into the daybed, and your pussy clenches at the sight. Rockets flare down your spine, shooting you through with sparks of ecstasy. And you haven't even cum yet.

"S'okay?" He asks, dipping two fingers into the side of your shorts to pull them aside, along with your panties. You nod, salivating with need. His eyes are shiny with lust, and he grins before licking softly through your folds. Your eyes flutter shut, as your head falls back against the pillows. "Atta girl," Luffy says, teething at the outer lips of your cunt, "Relax f'me."

He sucks on your clit, soft lips closing around your sensitive circle of nerves. His tongue works swiftly, sliding up and down from the base of your entrance all the way back up to swipe over your clit. He traces figure-eight motions around your rosebud, preening into you with heated praises of how good you're taking it, yeah just like that babygirl, don't stop, keep saying my name, sweetheart, yeah--

"Faster--," you moan, arching your hips into his jaw. Your fingers thread through his hair, showing him where to move. "...and a little to the left," you say, guiding his tongue there. He hums, lapping now in earnest at your clit. The two fingers that had been holding your clothes out of the way start sliding into your entrance. Birds chirp from outside your third-story window. A car honks as it passes by.

"Mmph--," Luffy moans, face shoved halfway up your cunt. You hiss, back bowing forward as he starts fucking you with his fingers. He rubs them swiftly at your g-spot (with deadly accuracy, no less) as he moans and gasps and sucks on your clit. He's messy and unorganized, but he's so skilled, nonetheless. A lover with hyperfixation issues and an obsession with food is something you can get used to, you think.

Luffy presses the flat of his tongue against your clit, sliding it back and forth softly. His head slowly shakes side-to-side with the movement. You groan, tightening your fingers in his hair. Water droplets slide through your knuckles, falling down onto the tips of Luffy's ears. Your thighs clench around him, whole body starting to shake. "Luffy--," you warn, sparks building into an explosion within you. Gunpowder alights in your belly.

"Cum f'me," he says, breath ragged in between solid licks of your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of your sticky cunt.

Bang.

It's a sweet death, cumming on Luffy's tongue. He moans appreciatively, grinding his hips into the mattress as he rides you through your orgasm. Your body shakes, sweating and shimmering with the recoil. Luffy is petting your pussy, slowly helping you come down as the smoke clears.

You whimper.

Luffy slides his fingers out of you, popping them into his mouth with a satisfied slurp. "Feel good, baby?"

"Mhmm," you nod, slowly coming back to yourself. Your spine is still tingling, and the arches of your feet are seared with heat.

"Kiss me," he says, leaning forward to place his lips along yours. They slide together gracefully, his tongue poking into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him. He bites at your upper lip, pulling softly. "Did such a good job for me," he croons, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. You nuzzle into his hand, slowly blinking your eyes back open.

"So did you," you whisper, smiling sweetly. He giggles, all shishishi, as he leans down to kiss your lips. He tastes like hot chocolate and marshmallows. His biceps trap you in on either side of your face, as he starts to thrust gently against your cunt. His dick slides against your thigh, tip poking at your entrance every so often. He lets his head fall down into your shoulder, shuddering a breath. He kisses a line along your collarbone.

"Can I?"

"Mhmm," you nod again, already shivering in anticipation. Luffy adjusts himself with little thrusts, angling his hips until his thick head is pushing aside the walls of your entrance. You groan.

"Luffy," you huff, voice shaky, "You feel so good."

Luffy presses his lips against the side of your neck, mouthing sloppily at your pulse point. He sinks himself deeper into your cunt, going slowly until he's buried to the hilt. He shifts, subtle movements from side to side that have you seeing stars.

You grip the back of Luffy's hair, both arms wrapped around his neck. "Faster," you whisper, tugging at the silken locks. Your legs are wrapped around his broad torso, ankles hooked together.

Luffy grins, lips stretching against your neck, as he starts thrusting hard and fast into your cunt. He hits all your sweetest spots, messily kissing your neck, your face, your jawline. He whimpers so prettily against your skin, it has you near-feral with need.

"Harder, Luffy," you tell him, gripping his hair tighter. He lifts his head up to kiss your lips, moaning into you as he speeds up.

"Love when you tell me how ta fuck ya," he sighs against your mouth, tongue slipping out to glide against your lower lip. His cock is deep inside you now, fucking hard and fast and just right.

You buck your hips up to meet him as best you can, sloppily matching his athletic pace with little gasps of pleasure. He growls into your ear, pulling at the shell of it with his teeth.

"Switch," you tell him, "Wanna ride ya."

He giggles, flipping you over with ease. His arms flex as he does, and you gasp with need. He arches an eyebrow, tracking your hungry movements as you grope his biceps, his shoulders, his rock-hard forearms. He flexes for you, sweat shining on his brow.

"Like that, sweetheart?" He teases you, traces his fingertips around your nipples. He flicks them, slightly, as you sink yourself back down on his cock. He hisses, eyes closed.

"Love it," you answer, arching your back so you can start fucking his cock at the exact angle that you need. It's not long before you're cumming, rutting into him with little "ah-ah's!" of pleasure. Luffy strokes your hipbones, urging you on.

"Keep goin', baby," he tells you, command dripping from every slurred syllable, "Cum f'me again." He grips the flesh of your hips, dragging you back and forth on his cock as he starts to fuck up into you again.

He plants his feet on the mattress, lifting his hips so he can jackhammer up into your needy pussy as fast as he wants to. His stamina is no match for yours, especially as you're catching your breath after your second orgasm. You fold forward, moaning all high-pitched and whiny as you let him wrap his arms around you.

"'M close," he whispers, breath hot on the nape of your neck, "Cum with me, angel?"

The pet name is so sweet, so romantic, that it catches you off guard. You swivel your hips into his, clenching your pussy walls around the thick length of his member. All you smell is him, hot chocolate and charcoal, as he pounds up into you from below.

"Sweet girl," he snarls, face hot and flushed with need, "Clench that pussy for me," he slaps your ass, and you gasp. Your pussy flutters around his cock, and he grins. "Good girl, baby."

He pants, thrusting up into you at the same breakneck pace, before he's spasming inside you and you feel his hot cum burst sticky against your velvet walls. You whine, letting him fuck his own spend deeper inside your aching pussy. A fluttering, shy orgasm lifts its wings against your spine. He gifts you with a few more stuttering thrusts, and you gasp. Luffy, Luffy, Luffy--

Sweet as sugar.

Luffy hums, happily relaxing back into the mattress. His fingertips trail little spirals along your ass. You wiggle, and he grins.

"Didja like that?" He peeks down at you with one eye open. His scar is hidden under a scarlet blush. You reach up to touch it with your thumb. You press, gently.

"Loved it."

Luffy sighs, letting his head fall back. You slowly lift yourself off him, letting his slick cock fall out against his strong thigh. You groan, spasms still coursing through your cunt as you stand up. His cum leaks down the side of your leg. Clean up time.

You softly pad back into the (now spiderless) bathroom to wash up.

****

Luffy is waiting for you when you get back, one arm thrown haphazard above his head. His shorts are back on, and when he looks up at you, your hair disheveled and mascara smudged, his dark eyes light up like firecrackers. "Shishishi," he giggles when he sees you, "You're so freakin' cute."

You squeeze your eyes shut, a wave of affection so profound and unbearable that all you can do is grit your teeth against it. He sits up.

"You okay?"

"Sorry--," you gasp, pressing your hands against your chest, "It's just--really sweet when you say stuff like that."

He grins.

You wave it off, coming back over to throw on your comfy clothes again. He skootches over to give you room to sit. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in. You both lean back against the daybed's headboard, legs folded around each other as the two of you relax. Your body is squishy and sore, and his is probably somewhere near the same. You reach over to squeeze his knee.

"Sex with you is really sweet," you say, quietly. Luffy grins, nose crinkling in delight. He scratches the back of his head.

"Shishishi, 'm glad you liked it, y/n!"

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Let's order pizza," you say, tracing circles on his knee. There's a splotchy purple bruise on the side of it: one of many you're sure he has from training.

"Kitty, I love you," he says, slumping his whole weight into you. He nuzzles into your cheek, even as you gasp and try to push him off you. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you over onto his lap.

"My treat," he says, mouth at your ear, "Whatever you want."

#“he grins” is my most used sentence i think #dumpster dive #my writing #one piece fanfic #luffy fanfic #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy smut #one piece smut #kitty writes #my fav line is “A lover with hyperfixation issues and an obsession with food is something you can get used to you think”#modern au #luffy modern au #one piece modern au

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Note

ofc bcs u're my fave haikyuu dad writer and the only one who satisfies my baby fever 🥵 hehe can i request baby tsumu who still cannot determine who among samu and tsumu is his/her real dad? like she often gets confused every damn time when they're altogether and tsumu has never been betrayed like that for his whole pretty life.

anw, i hope u're happy and pls always stay safe!! ilyyyy 💓💞💋

- 🩸

Hey hey!! Welcome to the party 🩸💖💖💖

WAIT OKAY SO THIS IS SO CUTE STOP-

Like I’m a firm believer that she knows the complete difference between the two of them, she sees them both so often that the differences are really obvious to her lil mind.

But then, ‘Tsumu goes away for a week or two. And ‘Samu is left being the “man” in the house (though, both men would argue that you wear the pants in the family), it just so happens that Osamu is the male features that Hisako recognizes.

So. Naturally, when Atsumu comes home, he’s got a little hat on his head bc his roots look buckwild, Osamu’s also wearing a hat bc he just came back from Onigiri Miya, and for the first time in what seems to be ever, Hisako looks between the two, as if wondering who’s who.

“This is hilarious,” Osamu snorts, enjoying the way Atsumu’s skin crawls at the idea his own kid forgot who he was. The glare he got in return was worth it, as Hisako blinks interested between the two of them, almost as if she was trying to figure out why there were two of them who looked the exact same.

“‘Sako?” You coo, bending over to set down the baby, “don’t you wanna go see dadda?”

“Yeah,” Osamu said, crouching down and opening his arms to entice her to come to him. “Don’t you want to see dadda?”

“Don’t start, Osamu!” Atsumu snaps, crouching down on his own knees, “I’m not in the mood, and I want my baby!”

“I know!” Osamu says dramatically. “She’s going to come over, you’re fine!”

You try your hardest to try your snorts behind your hand, earning a glare from your husband while your child, his baby, his blood and soul, coos happily and crawls quickly over to her uncle- you know she only did it because he’s got the smile and inviting face while her father holds an exhausted features, but the way Atsumu’s face contorts into betrayal when his twin scoops her up into his arms is just the tiniest, littlest bit funny.

“That settles that,” Osamu says cockily, and you chuckle before reaching out for Hisako.

“Atsumu-“

“Don’t talk to me,” he grumbles. You roll your eyes at his dramatics before bringing your baby over, watching as her eyes light up in familiarity.

“‘Tsumu, she didn’t forget you,” you promise, knocking the hat off his head with your free hand. As if on queue, Hisako beams a happy, teething smile up at your husband, and you can see him completely melt to her. “You two look the same with hats on. Hell, I get you two confused sometimes.”

“Truly one of the worst things you could say right now,” atsumu snips, but the minute he takes the child into his arms, he’s smiling and curling against her and relishing in her smell, her own tiny hands grasping at his hair. “Never wanna leave you again,” he murmurs, but he’s quick to shoot you a playful glare. “The two of you? I could pass on.”

“No, you couldn’t,” you assure, kissing his temple before turning on your heel to head into the kitchen.

He sighs and looks at his twin with a dramatic sigh. “No, I couldn’t.”

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youareiron-andyouarestrong · 7 months

Note

Followed the breadcrumb of snippets back to the original prompt - they’re all such a treat to read!

May I request 🧡 for rebelcaptain, please, if it’s not already in your queue?

🧡 kissing in bed / lazy kiss / cuddling

Cassian is slow to wake in the morning, which surprises Jyn. She usually the first one up, rising with whatever the dawn is, but Cassian will roll over, grumbling, it's not time yet, santos, mujer--

She suspects it's because he keeps spy hours, nearly nocturnal some missions. Cassian works best at night, which is almost a shame, if only because she loves to see him in the morning.

The morning light loves Cassian, pooling over the planes of his face, lending gold to the hollows of his cheeks, gilding the stubble that appears on his face after a long night, no matter how meticulously he shaves in the morning. Jyn rather likes it, likes the rough rasp of it on her cheeks. Like now, for instance.

His cheeks are rough as she scatters kisses across them, the fine, sharp lines of his cheekbones, his jaw. The place where his pulse beats, which she gives the gentlest bite. But she's not in the mood for teeth (not right now, they'll get to that later), so she moves on, to the soft place under his ear, his earlobe. The very hinge of his jaw.

She can feel him stir under her, wakefulness coming in moments, his barely heard, "Jyn?" as she continues to scatter kisses. The early morning rasp of his voice gives her all kinds of agreeable shivers.

To that end, she leans down, kisses him softly on the mouth, no more than a light press of lips as he enters the waking world fully. Then she smiles as his questioning "hmm?" becomes a satisfied "mmm...." It's exactly the leisurely kind of kiss that Jyn wants to sink into like a hot bath, and they rarely get to indulge in. One of his hands rises to tangle lazily in her hair, angling her so their noses press together more comfortably. His satisfied sound against her mouth sets off sparks in her blood.

Because they have time, at least until someone bangs on the door of their quarters, Jyn doesn't hesitate to take advantage of it. She lets her weight fall on Cassian, pressing his head back against the pillow. She manages to settles herself on top of him, careful to keep most of her weight off his trick hip, and continues to kiss him right into the mattress. This could easily end with their nightclothes scattered across the floor, but alas, they probably would get interrupted just as they get to the good stuff. So she pulls back gently, smiling as Cassian makes a faint noise of complaint as their lips part.

"Come back," he murmurs, the sleep rough drag of his voice practically a caress in and of itself. "I'm not done kissing you yet."

She makes herself resist stealing one more. That's why she's such a good thief. "We can always come back to it," she teases. "Later. When your tin can droid isn't going to knock down the door."

"Kay would only do that if he thought I was in danger," Cassian says, even as Jyn gives him an unimpressed look. "Alright, I know, it doesn't take much with him."

"No, it doesn't," Jyn agrees, and indulges them both with one more kiss to his upper lip. "But...we have that training for the new recruits to get to, after mess hall. Maybe during the dinner break? I'll find us a spot."

"I'll take you up on that," Cassian murmurs, and Jyn savors how the morning light limns his dearest, most beloved face.

#replies #anon good sir #star wars #rogue one #rebelcaptain #jyn x cassian #otp: and make death proud to take us #my writing #prompts

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arctic-shard · 4 months

Note

scp-012 causes whoever saw it to continue the notes using their own blood and if that person were to finish a section of the sheet, the person will kill themself declaring the piece is impossible to finish, I just thought it would be interesting gift for the Yellow Lord.

Bumping this up the queue because the furnace is broken and my office is too cold to work in, so drawing is out for now ( I can set my laptop up anywhere, but hauling out the peripheries like the scanner is Too Much Effort and I have no space for it in my temporary workspace. ) But I can write, and while I could just do a little illustration for this, the idea intrigues me too much to leave it at that anyway.

Dunno how old you are @randomlbirdo, so here's the warnings: No sex happens but there's a couple mentions of Odious as a sexually-active being. Self-harm, sort of, does it count when you're not doing it to hurt yourself, you just need to feed blood to a cursed artefact?

----------

The Unending Crescendo

The Yellow Lord Odious has an anomalous object stolen from the Foundation. It can resist the curse, but it can't resist a challenge …

---

The Lords of Alagadda, much as they considered Earth a backwater world, still kept an eye on it with their agents and cults. It was a wild place, full of emotion and stories and creativity and Alagaddans craved those things.

The Earth also contained the SCP Foundation - not a threat, but something to keep tabs on. The Foundation meddled with Alagadda occasionally, which was what initially drew the attention of the lords, but what kept their attention were the artefacts the Foundation had hidden away in storage. In their attempt to keep anomalies out of the hands of their fellow humans, the Foundation had gathered them up into convenient boxes that a determined Alagaddan Lord could borrow whenever it pleased.

There were ways to smuggle things in and out of Alagadda unchanged. They involved complicated alchemical wards and rituals, but it was doable.

This was not what the Yellow Lord, Wearer of the Odious Mask, was thinking about at the moment. It had put such plans into action weeks ago. It was busy in its study, sketching out musical notes as it played them - primary hands on the violin, secondary to write. The wastebasket nearby was overflowing with torn and crumpled sheets. Aside from the desk, the room contained dozens of musical instruments, including the organ it used for practice. The grand pipe organ of il Palazzo dell'Ira was in the audience hall.

Odious snarled as a knock on the door distracted it. Not that it was making any more progress than usual, but what if this time the notes were correct? It set down the violin with uncharacteristic gentleness, crumpled the sheet and threw it in the general vicinity of the wastebasket, then stalked to the door and flung it open.

A servant stood there, struggling with the weight of a gold case covered in alchemical symbols and the Yellow Lord's brand. The servant tried to lift the case to present it, but the gold was too heavy. "My Lord, I have the artefact. But do be careful with it."

The servant flinched under Odious' glare, the Yellow Lord not deigning to answer vocally. How dare this lesser being be concerned for it and not hateful? Odious was no apprentice alchemist who needed warnings, Odious was one of the great powers of Alagadda. But it did note how reluctantly the servant parted with the case, not because it wanted to protect Odious but because the artefact inside pulled at it. Odious had prepared for that - once the case was locked, only Odious could open it again, protecting its lessers from the artefact's curse. Odious needed the servant alive to deliver it, after all.

Odious chased the servant away, locked the door, and set the gold case on its desk.

It was one of the contradictions of Alagadda that Alagaddans were not themselves creative. The Humours were muses, sparking creativity in lesser beings but incapable of true creation themselves. Mirth was too stupid to care about this and Diligence even seemed to prefer copying, but Odious was different. Its role to be discontented, and one of those sources of discontent was that it was unable to compose its own music. Every time it tried, it only heard other composers - not mere influences but the core of the work. Nothing in its own compositions was Odious.

Deep in its twisted heart, Odious longed to be heard. Perhaps the only one who truly knew Odious was the Hanged King itself as it plundered Odious' mind for new sensations. But did the King really know it? Was it only interested in the hate Odious was created for and ignored its soul?

Odious could scream and use telepathy and fuck and torture, but these were all crude methods of communication compared to music. Music was pure. If Odious could just compose something of its very own, if it could write its Self in musical notation, maybe it would finally reach someone. Maybe someone would finally understand.

Maybe the King would be proud.

Millennia of failure had left it desperate enough to dabble in unknown magic. It drew a key from one of its pockets, licked the teeth to coat them in its bile, and opened the gold case.

Inside was a single sheet of music, penned in blood.

Perhaps it would accept Alagaddan ichor as a suitable ink.

Odious could feel the pull of the artefact. The page wanted blood. Odious denied it for now - no mere artefact could usurp the will of a Humour. Instead it set it on the desk. It hummed the melody as it read the score.

An interesting piece. Bold and jarring, but Odious quickly determined that this artefact wouldn't solve its problem. The score didn't change with each new blood donor, the music was using the blood to complete itself. Odious could add nothing to it but ink.

Odious lifted a hand to rip the paper to shreds in frustration, but changed its aim at the last instant to tear scratches in the table. It had put in an effort to claim this artefact. It would be more of a waste to destroy it immediately. Perhaps Odious could figure out the mechanism of it, to craft a page that it could wring out its heart over and write its own soul.

The melody had intrigued it. How would it sound with more parts played? Music was the purest language, playing the score would help Odious understand the artefact. It set the page on a music stand, settled itself beside the organ, and picked up the violin again.

Odious played perfectly. It always did. It had a passion for instrumental music from its awakening and had practiced for millennia. Two hands for the violin. Six on the organ - it didn't need to look at it to hit every note and pull every stop correctly.

The music was a discordant cacophony, mere noise to someone without Odious' experience. There was something in it, a pattern just at the edge of understanding. And the music just kept building. It shouldn't have been possible - a crescendo can't build forever, there needs to be a release or at least lessening of tension, but it never came. The single page somehow held thousands of lines of music, and the music swelled and built up and up for hours, frustrating and leaving Odious desperate for a conclusion, like an orgasm that just wouldn't come off …

The score ended so abruptly that for an instant Odious thought it had died. But it couldn't be dead, it had been dead before and its dead husk's hearts didn't hammer like this, its lungs didn't heave like this when it was dead. With shaking hands, it lowered its violin.

The violin had a chin rest made of Alagaddan porcelain-chitin, one of the few substances that Odious' bile couldn't destroy. It hadn't helped - Odious had leaked so much from its eyes and mouth that the bile had overflowed and scorched the instrument. Odious threw it aside and glared down at the music sheet.

"Where are you going with this? How do you end?" it hissed, taking the glove off one of its secondary hands and slicing the soft palm open with a talon. Thick, black ichor dripped onto the page and formed more notes.

Odious read the new lines. No conclusion, just more build-up. But it had to be near a resolution. It had to end. Odious ruptured some inner chambers in its body to send more ichor out of the wound.

The notes continued to form.

Odious wasn't going to let a piece of paper defeat it.

It picked up a new violin and readied itself beside the organ. There was no place to start from but the beginning - to begin in the middle would be an insult to the piece.

Odious could focus on regenerating its ichor to drip on the page and play the violin and play the organ. And, just to show the page who held the power, it sang the melody as well, a sharp, wordless soprano. It was the greatest musician in Alagadda, in all the lands of the Nevermeant, possibly even the multiverse. It was going to play the piece perfectly and to the end.

Hours later it reached the part written in its own ichor and kept playing. Odious was going to make it to the end. It was going to find the conclusion.

---

Odious woke up stiff and aching, staring up at the ceiling of its study. It tried to strech but couldn't move.

Finally awake, my lord?

The Ambassador. Odious managed to turn its head to find the hateful creature delicately unfolding the crumpled balls of paper from the wastebasket. It had no face, but Odious knew it was sneering at its attempts at writing music. Odious flexed its arms, recognising the feel of rope around them. "What are you doing here?"

Amusing myself by reading your pitiful efforts to create, my lord.

"Fuck you. You interrupted my practice."

The Ambassador huffed. Practice? You allowed yourself to be possessed by a mere artefact. I had to bind you to pry you away from it, all while you screamed that you had to finish the song.

While the Ambassador prattled, Odious managed to curl around to drip bile on some of the ropes to burn them away. With a few arms free, it began untying itself. "Where is the cursed music sheet?"

Back where your stooge took it from.

Perhaps the artefact was more dangerous than Odious had given it credit for, if the Ambassador itself had deigned to remove it from Alagadda. It was the humans' problem again. "What do you care what I do?"

I do not.

Which meant that it had been ordered. Which meant that the Hanged King had sensed something wrong with Odious and sent its servant to sort things out -

Odious' thoughts were interrupted by the Ambassador's laughter. Is that sentiment I sense in you, my lord? Does the Seething Prince long for daddy's approval? For shame. Our King will be most disappointed.

Finally free of the ropes, Odious lunged for the Ambassador. It stepped out of the way and Odious ended up tackling its own desk.

When Odious untangled itself from the furniture, the Ambassador was gone. Odious howled in rage, at the loss of its prey, at the Ambassador's taunts. You twist my thoughts! I don't want love and approval! I don't want softness! I am everything I am meant to be - I am hate and anger and passion and violence - and I am the best at it! I play my role perfectly! I want -

Odious needed to be perfect. Nothing less was enough. It had to be so perfect that no one could ever find flaw, not even itself. It was a hard way to live, a crescendo without end. If it was perfect, then people would finally notice all it did for Alagadda and appreciate it, instead of taking the rituals and concerts and efforts for granted. It did what it was meant to do but nobody cared that it did it well, they only noticed when Odious made a mistake, so Odious had to be perfect, perfect, perfect …

I want …

The ending Odious craved was to become so hateful, so despised that the Hanged King itself grew angry enough to blast it out of existence. To be seared into oblivion by the hate of a god … glorious. Perfection.

But Odious also wanted to lay its head in the Hanged King's lap, feel the desiccated fingers stroke its hair, and know its efforts and work were seen and appreciated. To know that it had succeeded at being the Yellow Lord, at being Odious. To know that the King was proud of it. To be able to rest, just for a little while.

Triumphant fine or quiet diminuendo, there could be no applause, no rest, until the play was over.

I want to know how it ends.

#alagadda #yellow lord odious #yellow lord alagadda #scp-2264 #scp-012

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thavampress · 1 year

Text

A Court of Flame

Aemond Targaryen x OC!femTargaryen

The Dance of Dragons has finally met its bitter end, and left Saesha Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, without her entire family.

In a last ditch effort to put the war to bed for good and unite a broken realm, the victorious Greens seal a marriage pact between the last survivor of the Blacks, and the notorious second son, Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: violence, smut, language (all the good stuff), incest (duh, but I’m not gonna remind you every five seconds.)

Masterlist

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter One

~Saesha~

Saesha Targaryen opted to arrive in King’s Landing on dragonback, rather than by ship. She’d been ushered from her home on Dragonstone and forced into a marriage with the same enemies who saw to the death of her entire family. She would arrive as a true Targaryen, lest they forget she was of Fire and Blood too.

She had claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, who ironically was the only dragon to challenge Vhagar in size. She wondered if her betrothed would feel threatened by this. She doubted it.

The sight of the Red Keep emerging from the heavy fog pulled her from her thoughts. The Black Water was covered with blanket of mist as Vermithor coasted quietly over the bay. She would not be landing at the Dragonpit. Instead, Saesha brought Vermithor down in the upper courtyard of the Keep. As the enormous dragon cut through the fog, she heard shouts from the soldiers manning the walls.

Vermithor roared as he landed, and as Saesha dropped from his back she looked around to see armed soldiers forming a circle around her and her mount. Saesha scoffed, as if a single word wouldn’t have every one of them in ashes.

She held up her arms in mock surrender. “Is there no one named Targaryen here to greet me?” She called out to the soldiers, “Or at the very least a Hightower.”

The soldiers seemed to relax slightly, some of them looking to others for some sort of queue. She had been expected after all, only they were prepared to meet her at the harbor two days from now.

Finally, Otto Hightower emerged from the ranks. He was unmistakable for Saesha, and the hand pin on his lapel only confirmed it.

“Princess,” he called to her, a mocking smile on his lips, “welcome to King’s Landing. We had not expected you yet… nor on dragonback.”

“Apologies, my Lord Hand,” Saesha replied, bowing comedically deep. “I wished to not be parted from my dragon, and I so despise traveling by sea.”

The Hand only bowed, extending an arm toward the Keep, indicating her to follow. Saesha did as she was bid and was lead through the Keep and to her appointed chambers. The room was mostly bare, save the canopy bed to her left and some other furniture here and there.

A tapestry might be nice, she thought, staring at the blank stone walls.

A knock sounded at the heavy double doors, and Saesha beckoned them to enter. A servant appeared, bowing before her. “Princess,” the servant greeted, “the Queen Mother wishes to see you, once you are settled.”

Straight into the fire, she thought with a rueful grin.

“No need to settle,” she told the servant. All of her things were to follow by ship in a few days anyway. “We will go now.”

She followed the boy through the cavernous corridors, making note of his nervous and quick steps. When she finally reached another set of ornately carved double doors, she realized they were not at the Queen Mother’s chambers. She’d been in the Red Keep only a year ago, with her mother. That felt like a decade now, but no so long that she didn’t recognize where they were.

The soldiers posted outside leaned in and pulled the doors open, revealing the small council chamber. Alicent Hightower sat at the head of the table. To her right was Otto Hightower, and to her left a man Saesha didn’t recognize. She saw all of them only for a fleeting moment, because beside Otto sat a tall, silver-haired man adorned with an leather eyepatch that could only be Aemond Targaryen.

They stared hard at each other. Aemond’s gaze gave nothing away. Saesha tried her very best to keep her own face completely neutral.

“Princess Saesha,” Alicent smiled, breaking the tension and her gaze from Aemond. “I am pleased you have made it to us safely.”

She smiled, bowing politely. If her mother taught her anything, it was that being in King’s Landing meant playing the game. She didn’t intend on losing.

“I must apologize for not sending word of my early arrival,” Saesha said politely. “My decision to arrive on dragonback was… a spontaneous one.”

Aemond Targaryen laughed through his nose. Her wild, violet eyes snapped back to him at the sound. They watched each other for just a moment.

“Your apology is unnecessary,” Alicent assured, a lingering gaze cast on her son. “I myself must apologize for calling you here so soon after your arrival. I was just so eager to reacquaint and make certain you had all that you needed.”

To make your measure of me, Saesha thought, to see what the war has made me.

Saesha nodded, “My things are to arrive with the boats from Dragonstone. Until then I think I can make do.”

She bowed again and turned to take her leave, but stopped. She turned to face the council again, this time addressing Aemond alone. “My prince, I hoped you would escort me to the training yard with you in the morning. My father taught me how to use a sword and I’d like to practice.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, and had an intrigued look in his eye. “Of course, princess. If it please you.”

She grinned, “Why it indeed would please me.”

Aemond faltered, only slightly, but she saw it. “Now, if I may excuse myself, I’m very tired. I will you see you on the morrow, my prince.” With that, she turned and exited the chamber without another word from anyone.

~Aemond~

The council chamber was quiet after she left. Until Aemond’s grandsire cleared his throat, “Well, she certainly has Rhaenyra’s spirit.”

His mother only looked sad. Aemond was thinking.

She was not quite so different from when he had last seen her, only she seemed more bold now. Nothing to lose, he thought.

Aemond excused himself from the chamber and started down the hall. He wasn’t sure where he was going, just somewhere else. His footsteps echoed as he marched, blazing around a corner to come colliding into someone.

Her.

“My apologies,” she said quickly, taking a step back.

“The fault is mine,” he replied. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Saesha smiled. Every time she smiled there was something wicked in it. It drew him to her. “Neither was I,” she said quietly.

Aemond did not know what to say to her. He did not really know her. “Excuse me, princess,” he said formally as he stepped out of her way, “I will get you from your chambers early tomorrow. I do not hope too early for you.”

She smiled that glinting smile again. “I will be waiting for you.”

He watched her walk down the hall until she slipped around another corner. She was quite beautiful, more so than before. A year ago, Saesha Targaryen had been soft, still a girl surrounded by her family. Now she was alone, and harder than before.

He was surprised at her willingness to spend time with him. After all it was his act that sparked the bloodshed ending in her family’s ruin. He murdered her little brother. Even if it was an accident, she’d never believe him. He was suspicious of her and massively intrigued by her at the same time.

He went to bed wondering.

Aemond found himself waking up earlier than he usually did the next morning. The sky was still dark when he dressed. He made sure his eyepatch was secure before sitting by the hearth, a book in his lap. He read by candlelight until the sky turned pale with first light.

He closed the book and started down the corridor toward Saesha’s chambers. Aemond had no idea how this little sparring session would go. He couldn’t tell if she was playing some elaborate trick on him. She seems clever enough to do so, he thought.

Finally he was at her door, knocking firmly on the carved surface. It opened immediately, and suddenly Aemond was face to face with her. Saesha was in all black, matching him. She was in the council chamber as well. Her silver hair was braided back elaborately in true Targaryen fashion. She was every ounce a Valyrian of Old, unlike her bastard half-brothers.

“Good morning, my prince,” she said, unmoving.

He stared down at her, a low hum in his chest. “Shall we, princess?”

They walked silently down to the training yard. Strangely, Aemond felt at ease in this silence. She kept in stride with him easily, despite being significantly shorter.

Ser Criston Cole was already in the yard, setting out the sparring swords. “Prince Aemond,” he greeted, smiling. Ser Criston saw Saesha behind him then, and cocked his head. “Princess Saesha,” he addressed her with much less warmth, “I did not expect you here to spectate today.”

Saesha grinned, “Not to worry, Ser, I am not here to spectate.”

She stepped forward, picking up one of the sparring blades.

“I must protest, princess,” Ser Criston began, “I cannot spar with a princess, Gods forbid I harm her.”

“I am grateful I can put you at ease once again then,” Saesha circled them both, finally landing in front of Aemond, “I will not be sparring you, but Prince Aemond.”

She pointed the sword at Aemond, a taunting smirk on her lips. “Come along, my prince. Do not lose your fire now.” Her taunting smirk was gone, and suddenly there was a serious look on her face. Her violet eyes burned.

Aemond took up a sparring sword. He leveled it at her, then raised his chin, beckoning her to begin. She stepped forward quickly, throwing a jab at him to the right. He deflected it easily. Saesha stepped back briefly before advancing again, slashing, quite predictably, to his left. Aemond swatted the hit away again, smirking.

“Do not be discouraged, princess,” Aemond said, taunting, “I have spent many hours in this yard, and I’ve fought a war.”

Saesha grinned, the fire still bright in her eyes. She was at him again in a flash, bringing her sword up across his leather tunic. If the sword had an edge, a thin line would’ve cut diagonally across his abdomen.

As Aemond found his guard again, Saesha ducked under his arm and summoned a dagger he never knew she had, holding its point to the back of his rib cage. This blade most certainly had an edge to it.

“Do not forget, princeling,” she whispered harshly, “it was my war too.”

Saesha sheathed the dagger back at her hip through a convenient hole in her skirts. Aemond watched her do it. He clenched his jaw, suddenly feeling angry. Bested by her.

She left the yard after that, and Aemond found he didn’t feel like training much anymore. He retreated instead to the library, finding it dark and quiet and full of other lands to escape to.

The war had hurt Aemond. It left him scarred and hollow. There were still those who muttered kinslayer. The blood on his hands rarely bothered him. Why should it? He thought, What choice did I have?

For some reason it bothered him today. It was her. Saesha Targaryen who he’d silently admired, curious and drawn to her fire. They were both blood of the dragon, he could tell. The same side of the coin.

Aemond didn’t grieve the number of men he killed, he knew she wouldn’t either. He knew she could kill, she showed him today.

It didn’t matter.

What he did grieve today, was the fact the he had murdered Lucerys Velaryon. He hadn’t meant to do it, in perfect and plain truth. But somehow having a hand in the collapse of Saesha’s family felt… dark.

It was my war too, her words echoed to him. Aemond wondered how many men she’d killed, burned on the field of battle. Had she ever cut someone down, the way she pretended to with him?

The door to the library squeaked open. Aemond watched with his remaining eye, his mother crossing the room to sit across the table he had seated himself at. Alicent reached over the book laid open in front of him, clasping his hand in her own.

“The wedding is in two weeks,” she said after a long silence.

Aemond only nodded. It didn’t really matter to him when the wedding was. He had known he was to marry Saesha for what felt like a long time now.

“I heard your morning did go over so smoothly,” said Alicent.

Aemond scoffed, “Apparently my wife will not be needing very much of my protection.”

Alicent had the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I hope that you will find some semblance of happiness together.”

Aemond sighed, “I do not think she will accept me. Not after Lucerys.”

It felt strange to him to say his name. The name of the ghost who had haunted him for so long.

“I am sorry for what you had to do for this family,” Alicent replied. She looked tired.

“I am not,” Aemond stated. “We are alive.”

#house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #targaryen fic #aemond smut #aemond x oc #aemond x targaryen! reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut

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not-your-fucking-kacchan · 2 years

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Can we get some erasermic helping a student with sensory overload (and unhealthy stimming) xoxoxo

EEEEE PLS THIS REQUEST>>>😩

Masterlist<3

Warning: mentions of harmful and unhealthy stimming, hitting, pulling hair...

Erasermic x Student!Reader (Platonic) - Stimming

The silence of the classroom is cut through with the anxious whimpers of a lone student, sat in the furthest corner of the room with their head in their hands while they rock back and forth, finding some sort of comfort in the way that their eyes are pressed firmly to their kneecaps.

Lunch had only just started and you had started to get very irritable, rubbing your ear harshly at every loud noise and holding back an angry growl every time someone brushes against you. Eventually you're forced to flee the overbearingly crowded hall when the sound of people smacking their lips and chewing loudly grates at your nerves a little too deep.

Too much. It was all too much, and as you rush through the hallway with tears in your eyes, hands frantically pulling at your now tangled hair and smacking your skull. It was just so noisy and obnoxious and the lights were too bright and the smell was too overwhelming.

Images flash in your head of people's digusting, unwashed teeth chewing loudly with their mouths open, revealing mashed up food inside and you cringe, fighting the urge to throw up. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, smacking your head loudly as you grow more and more agitated, your knees shaking and knocking together.

You're so preoccupied with your sensory overload induced panic attack that you don't even notice when Aizawa sensei walks in, having suspected that something like this woould be happening.

He had noticed how restless and anxious you seemed during the lessons and was going to hold you back at the end of class to talk about it, but you were out of the room faster than anyone else was and he was busy dealing with verbally disciplining Mineta for being a creep. He tried to find you at lunch too, only to bump into a few stunned classmates just moments after you had suddenly barreled off.

It was then that he'd started to worry since, according to your classmates, you looked quite upset. So the only reasonable cause of action was to find you and figure out what the trigger was for your episode.

Queue your teacher coming into the room and letting out a soft sigh before sending a message to Present Mic. He had always been better in these situations, he could provide empathy and comfort where Aizawa was sure he could not, and he understood these things best. His attention is drawn back to you though, when he hears you smacking and scratching yourself and pulling at your hair.

His lips part in shock and surprise as he sees this display, though he quickly gets to work on intercepting your next hit with his hand while setting the other on your shoulder, giving you a look of concern.

"Come on now, stop that... You're stimming right? Sensory overload? Focus on me, now. Everything's fine. Rub your hands together, it'll help..."

He speaks quietly, knowing that being rough or deadpann won't help in this kind of situation. But as your eyes shift to glance up at his and then quickly avoid them, he knows he's succeeded in distracting you enough from whatever your trigger was. Your attention is pulled from your panic and you feel more disorientated now than ever, but at least you're not harming yourself anymore, soft palms slowly starting to rub together as you focus on the texture and the feeling of your veins bulging through the skin or the softness of the back of your hand compared to your palm.

Once Mic finally arrives, you've mostly calmed down, now just a little embarrassed to have been caught during one of your meltdowns. Neither Aizawa Sensei or Present Mic will hear it from you though, the blonde loudly fawning over you and giving you some words of praise as well as Aizawa for being "less emotionally constipated" and actually helping you.

From then on you get to talk to the both of them much more about your habits and what's troubling you. Mic teaches you all about stimming and how to do it safely, along with other healthy habits to pick up, and when you feel especially agitated or close to a sensory overload, you have special permission to stay in the classroom or even the break room with them when you're lucky, just to wind down and feel better.

Neither of them mind of course, and sometimes you're joined by an agitated Bakugou when he's feeling especially explosive that day, and if the two of you bond just a little while you're there, he's forbidden you from talking about it.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #mha #aizawa x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #dadzawa #bakugou katsuki #aizawa headcanons #erasermic #eraserdad #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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blazestar3450 · 21 days

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The Dani fic is finally here!!! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you all like it despite it being pretty short.

The winds howl as the sirens blare. Dani smirks astride the Devil Ride as she tries to get to the compound before the Ash Storm arrives. The moment she heard a storm was coming she booked it to Brass as soon as she could. As she slides into the compound doors, she sees many a racer, some new some old. She reminices a moment on Amun the Ancient, the Mummy Lord that sadly perished during the last race she was involved in, before stepping off the bike and looking around and walking up to the organizer.

“So, what’s the pool this time?” she asks as she hands them 20 gold for the race. The organizer, another Fire Genasi, says “Got about 180 gold this time around. Big turnout this time. You sure you can keep your spot on top?” “Oh, you know I can” she responds before turning back to the bike and getting ready near the giant double doors that face the track. Well, less of a track, more of a bunch of markers put around winding city streets and markets.

As she puts her goggles down over her eyes the doors begin to open, clouds of ash and soot carried by strong winds blew at her face. She steadied herself on her bike as the organizer walked in front of all the racers and gave the usual shpiel. Dani was just waiting for the queue to start. The organizer starts counting down “5…. 4…..3….2….1….” As the countdown ends Dani speeds off along with the other racers, following the dancing lights set up across the course.

As the ashen winds whip across her face she sees three people ahead of her. First, Flint, the Fire Genasi that also showed up to her very first race, looks like he got his ride fixed up after his defeat last time. Then a Salamander riding an odd mount that looks between some sort of reptile with white hot glowing scales and a phoenix. Finally, an Azer astride a very similar bike to hers except it still lets out that infernal scream and combined with Flint’s it’s a cacophony of sound that almost makes it hard to think.

Yet as she gets just behind them, she comes up with an idea. She lays a hand onto the Anarch Sphere that powers her bike and hopes for the ability she called on last time.

As the sphere powers up it lets out a huge gust of wind that propels the bike into the air and forward 60 feet before settling the bike onto the ground. Not what she was hoping for, but it works. She’s now about 20 ft ahead of her opponents but they’re gaining fast. She needs a way for them to not catch up. Oh yeah. That should work.

At this moment a sphere made of shimmering blue energy appears around her, blocking a Produce Flame attack that was coming in at her from Flint. Suddenly she’s moving around in this thing like a hamster ball and speeding towards the finish line, her opponents hot on her tail as they all are vying for that 180 gold.

As they all round the final corner Dani tries one last hail mary, hoping to trip up the other three. She casts Grease directly behind her and it gets one of them as the Azer tumbles off their ride. It’s just her, Flint and the Salamander and in one last ditch attempt she smacks the Anarch Sphere one more time, pushing them away with a wave of water that knocks them off the course right before she crosses the finish line.

The fire Genasi from before walks up to her, handing over a bag that clatters with what can only be gold coins. “Congrats, now you know what to do. The Illuminators will be out any second now, get outta here before then”. Dani nods and tips her hat to him before speeding off towards the docks.

When she arrives to the Per aspera she sees Kyana and Vhas sparring on the deck. “Oh, hey captain! Did you win?” she asks as she holds the Githyanki’s sword between her monstrous spectral arms. “Yeah. I actually think it might be enough to finally get the ship fixed up” she says. “Oh finally!” Vhas exclaims as he pulls his sword from Kyana’s grasp “Been waiting to have the ship at full working order again since that job in Gehenna”. “Yeah, well, we’re in Brass. Gotta go see Oto for this so we can take care of this while we’re here. Anyways I’m gonna go down and get to work” Dani says. “Alright boss, you have fun” Vhas says as Dani proceeds to go below deck to prepare her next project.

#rolling with difficulty #rwd #dani rwd #fanfic

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plasticflwrs · 3 months

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⠀⠀ ⠀┈─ REVELATIONS ⠀⠀／ ⠀⠀ a plastic flowers story ( 2024 ).

"Beyond a certain point there is no return. This point has to be reached." — Franz Kafka.

WORD COUNT. 4.3k words. WARNINGS / NOTES. jiyeon's eating disorder and treatment. mentions of alcohol and food. legal threats. not proof read so there will most likely be mistakes. let me know if i missed anything!

Since moving into their new apartment, they have never had dinner together in the dining room.

Someone was always ordering take-out food, stuck back at their office, fighting with another member, or skipping that meal. It felt weird as Jiyeon pushed past Salem with a handful of chopped mushrooms in her hands. Of all the members that could have helped her with dinner, she was glad it was Salem. She was the only other who had experience cooking more than something microwavable or that came frozen in a bag. Plus, they worked well together since making up last year.

Tonight they were finally discussing their future as a band and under Superbloom Media which called for something better than fried chicken from the restaurant next door. In their first group decision in what felt like ages, they all agreed that bibimbap would be their main meal. Of course, Salem had bought some wine and the other preferred drinks for their members. Jiyeon wasn’t a big drinker anymore so she stuck with her usual—freshly made juice from the store down the block.

She had stopped drinking in excess back in 2023 due to some health issues. Like the rest of the group, she would drink herself to the point of blacking out each weekend while performing and continued the cycle for years. When they were put on hiatus, she realized the extent of how alcohol was ruining her relationships with not only her bandmates but her body as well. She was making good progress in her eating disorder treatment and wanted to make a full change within herself. Jiyeon still treated herself to a glass of wine some weekends and a few drinks while performing, but knew her limits.

Though she still had disordered thoughts, she was making good progress with the rest of her goals. She listened to her body’s natural hunger queues, conquered many of her fears surrounding food, and bought fried food the other week. Bibimbap was something easy to eat since she could see all the ingredients and was a safe food for going out with her members. She liked it and was glad it was chosen for tonight’s dinner.

“I think I can finish this all up,” Salem states, washing her hands as she looks over everything. “Can you get the others so they can set the table?”

“Gotcha,” Jiyeon answers with a nod before going to do the same. Though she liked cooking, the feeling of all the ingredients on her hands was often unpleasant. She washed them with more soap and longer than usual, drying her hands, and then trying to look presentable again.

Her hair was in a loose ponytail with pieces hanging out the front and she fixed her sleeves in the mirror. That had been her biggest goal of 2023, being able to look in the mirror without crying. It sounded stupid in the beginning, especially as a twenty-three-year-old, but it was something that needed to change. Her lips purse as she goes to look at the side view of her body before stopping. She walked away.

She was with her members. They barely cared what she looked like most days so she didn’t need to put any delusions into her mind. She had reached a healthy weight and looked much better. This was progress.

Jiyeon knocks loudly on Deurim’s door without saying a word. There was nothing to be said to Deurim and she was not above continuing their silent treatment. Deurim was easily her least favorite member and things would remain that way without that apology. She doubted that it would come. The fight had been in August 2023 and Deurim seemed fine with the silent treatment as well. Whatever. Jiyeon had better things to worry about than her. Next to Deurim was Junyeong, who got a knock and a call to set the table before she reached the last door in the hallway. Oliver’s room.

If the mirror was her biggest goal last year, her goal for 2024 was to get over Oliver Song. Learning the more intimate details of his relationship with Salem and seeing the new people he was interacting with had begun the process. She couldn’t look at him with those rose-colored classes anymore and as time went on, she found more not to like anymore. Though it was only February. She had the rest of the year to complete this.

“Oliver!” She calls, knocking on the door a few extra times to make sure he is even awake. His sleep schedule had been ruined by finishing their process and how many times he went out each week so she was almost positive he was awake. “Oliver Song! Wake up, you need to set the table!”

Pressing her ear against the door, she thinks she hears him get out of bed with a groan and walk back to the connected kitchen and dining area. She didn’t need to babysit him and make sure he made it to dinner. He got two warnings and that was enough for her. Junyeong is setting the placements Salem had bought a few days prior while Deurim picks the utensils out of their drawer.

When she returns, Salem looks at her confused and behind her. They were usually paired at the hip so it was more surprising that he didn’t immediately follow her. “No Oliver?”

She shrugs with a sigh, “he’s probably behind me. Sounds like he was asleep,” she clarifies and sits down at her designated spot on the left side, in the middle of Salem and Junyeong with Oliver sitting in front of her. Jiyeon was glad that Deurim had taken Minghui’s seat when she moved in. She didn’t have to look at the other girl or listen to her annoying voice.

Jiyeon often prided herself on being a “girl’s girl”, however, she only supported those who deserved it. It was obvious that Deurim was a snake and was only using Plastic Flowers for her five minutes of fame. Well, three years of fame. Jiyeon had called her out on it back in August and though Deurim tried to deny it, she was a horrible actress. The real proof was in her attempts to get more focus on herself and how much she hated talking about Minghui. The last time they tried getting dinner together, it had caused Deurim to lose her cool and that was the last time they invited her out.

“Of course,” Salem replies with a roll of her eyes, making sure the vegetables are in the correct order of the picture. “What do we think the excuse will be?” she asks no one specific, but Jiyeon knows her band members. They all have their ideas.

“Hangover,” Junyeong answers, shaking his head. “There’s no other reason why he would still be sleeping at…” He glances at the clock on the oven, “seven at night.”

Deurim hums in agreement as she places down the set of silverware at each seat. “Went to bed too early and fucked his sleep schedule again.”

“Can we not make fun of him, guys?” They all give Jiyeon a look and she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the chair. “Fine. I agree with Junyeong.”

As they work, there’s mindless chatter about their families and whatever’s new in their lives. These are the few moments that Jiyeon enjoys when they’re all together, though she doesn’t have much to add. Jiyeon was more than happy to hear about their relationships and how they have been doing these past few weeks after finishing their newest album. They had spent almost a month together perfecting every song and that was always a recipe for disaster as the cabin fever set in. The recording for Tower of Babel had set the record for the least amount of fights: seven. The most was Call Me Crazy from last year at nineteen.

They had gotten better at working together and that gave Jiyeon hope for these contract negotiations. Things would never be perfect between them as they wanted to make different music and always differed in opinions, but she hoped that they could stay together for a few more years.

Oliver drags himself into the kitchen once everything is set up. He apologizes, still trying to fix his unruly blonde hair that sticks to his forehead and out in every direction possible. He was a mess, but he looked better than usual. Rather than dark bags under his eyes and his face completely sunken in, he looked almost healthy but that was just because of the comeback. Oliver was prone to quit drinking alcohol right cold turkey before promotions in fear of the fans finding out. Jiyeon never understood his thinking as there were plenty of videos of hi drinking at their bar performances and even while out with friends, so he was just acting crazy.

When he catches Salem’s eye, she visibly brightens at the sight of him and her frown turns into a smile. For anyone who didn’t know Salem as well as Jiyeon does, she might have looked excited to see him, but that was far from the truth. She was going to make him carry everything into the kitchen, alone. “Just the boy I wanted to see!” she greets, still smiling at him. “Your job is to set all the food on the table since you missed everything else.”

Oliver rubbed his eyes again with a light sigh, nodding as he went into the kitchen. Jiyeon stifled a laugh behind her fist at how predictable they were. She wasn’t sure when they finally got over how poorly their romantic relationship ended back in 2022, but she was glad to see them able to work together again without much fighting. Even when dating, they were too different to ever agree on anything and this was a welcomed change.

She tried not to dwell on the past too much, but seeing her members hold conversations with each other made her happy. Deurim was a different story. She joined at the perfect time, just as they began to climb the charts, and never had to deal with the worst moments of their career. She was lucky. Deurim was always lucky and Jiyeon was waiting for it to finally dry up.

From his place next to Jiyeon, Junyeong asks Oliver, “Hey, why are you so late?”

Oliver frowns at the other as he places the side dishes on the table. He knows where this is going and doesn’t find it as funny as the rest of the members. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

Deurim smirks at the pair on the other side of the table and Jiyeon fights the urge to roll her eyes. “Working on music or something?”

“No, uh,” he glances at Jiyeon for a moment, linking his chapped lips and shifting his weight to the left. “I was on the phone with my mom.”

Lie.

He might be a genius songwriter and musical prodigy, but Oliver Song had always been one of the worst liars Jiyeon had ever encountered. The tell was not able to look at Deurim and instead looked at Jiyeon, hoping that she would back him up. Normally, she would, but, that was only if she knew where he had been. She didn’t even know Oliver left the apartment last night.

“Right,” Deurim laughs into her hand. “Tell her I said hello then.” He gives her a weird look before agreeing and walking into the kitchen to grab something else. “I bet he was out with that new guy again.”

“New guy?” Junyeong asks. Jiyeon wasn’t sure how Deurrim knew of this, but she had always been too observant for her own good.

“Don’t know the name or anything about them, but there’s definitely someone new in his life,” Deurim answers with a shrug. “Remember his 2024 resolution? Stop drinking?”

From across the room, Oliver shouts, “you know I can hear you from here, right?”

“It’s just some light teasing, Oli, lighten up!”

Leave it to Salem to save them from an argument breaking out. She had gone into her room to change out of her cooking attire and into a different set of comfortable clothes. Oliver was going to reply, but, seeing Salem, he paused. Their relationship had ended almost two years ago, but there were still some lingering tensions because of how poorly everything went over. For the good of the apartment, they agreed not to mention any new partners in front of the other. It had worked well thus far and Jiyeon could only hope that it would continue to work.

As Oliver brings over the last bottle, Salem asks, “Are we eating first or do we want to have this conversation first?”

Jiyeon already had enough anxiety to curb her appetite so she voted to wait until after the conversation. Sadly, she was beaten out by the other three votes. Junyeong had the best defense as the warm dishes wouldn’t taste as good later and they needed to have a proper dinner together for once. Jiyeon hates it when they make sense.

Across the table, they make small talk just like earlier. Trading questions about their lives and what their opinions on the new record were. It was unanimous that they all enjoyed it and seemed excited to promote for the first time in years. They expressed their frustrations with how short the deadline was, however. Thankfully Salem and Oliver always had ideas lying around that gave them a solid foundation for the album before finishing everything. She was often lucky to get her own tracks into the final draft and had learned to enjoy songwriting over the last few years.

The dinner itself lasts about forty minutes before everything is done and put into the dishwasher for the next cycle. She eats most of the bibamap and the side dishes but feels full very quickly. That’s okay. She could always snack on something sweet later. This didn’t have to be her last meal of the day.

The table is silent as they all look at each other, waiting to see who is going to start the conversation. Jiyeon picked at her nails, glancing down at her lap so she didn’t have to meet the member's eyes anymore.

“Let’s start with something easy,” Salem starts, glancing at each one of them. “Raise your hand if you want to remain at Superbloom?”

No hands go up.

Jiyeon lets out a sigh of relief. She’s glad that everyone else was realizing just how shitty their management company was, even if it was her therapist who had made the connection. Though many of her issues stemmed from her childhood, Superbloom Media and their unethical practices only made things worse for Jiyeon as she was pushed to work harder and ‘look better’ for their fans. She never looked better under their training, she looked like she was going to drop dead at any moment.

“I’m glad we’re all in agreement on that. But, it raises another question: what’s the next step? We’re at the height of our careers so sticking together seems like the best course of action.”

“Are we going to the same company or just getting the rights from Superbloom?” Oliver asks, leaning against his palm. “‘Cause those are very different and I can already tell you now, Yeonghui isn’t letting go of our career without a fight.”

“I don’t want to go to court,” Jiyeon states firmly. She had seen too many idols lose against their former companies and knew that they would face the same fate. Yeonghui was a former entertainment lawyer and knew the laws like the back of her hand. It was how she got away with everything so easily. “All the horror stories of losing songs and stage names… we all know Yeonghui would beat us.”

“I can already tell you now that Yeonghui is betting on a lawsuit. She’s been preparing for months now,” Oliver explains. They all give him a weird look and he returns it right back. “Has she not mentioned that in your private meetings?”

“This might be a stretch,” Salem begins with a grimace as she fidgets with her hands. Jiyeon had never seen her this nervous before and it felt weird, almost frightening. Salem has always been cool and collected for as long as Jiyeon has known her. It made sense though. She had the most to lose if Yeonghui took them to court and won. “I think Yeonghui split us apart by telling each of us different things. I haven’t heard that, but she’s told me she will keep us together at all costs.”

“I’ve just been promised a solo career,” Junyeong drops casually. “I mean—that’s the most obvious thing she could use. I couldn't get that anywhere so I haven’t taken it seriously, especially after what happened last year..”

Jiyeon says, “I haven’t met with her but I can’t imagine her trying to bribe me. What does she even have on me besides the band?”

It’s true. There really was nothing Yeonghui could take away from Jiyeon besides her career. She paid for her therapist and nutritionist out of her paycheck and it would not be a good look to hold wages away from the people already discussing leaving the company. Jiyeon honestly had nothing outside of the band. Her family doesn’t talk to her and she’s not in a relationship.

Deurim looks more annoyed than usual as she takes her turn to speak. “I was threatened with losing my career if we left. Like, blackballing me from any other entertainment company because ‘she let me into the band,’” she explains with air quotes. That’s not new information. Everyone knew that Deurim was put into the band because of her reputation as a fan to take the rumors surrounding Minghui away. It had never been said out loud before this moment.

“So, it’s either be exiled from the industry or stay with the company from hell?” Junyeong asks sarcastically. “Great.”

Jiyeon can’t help but nod in agreement. They’re a bunch of rocks stuck in a hard place and decisions seemed almost impossible to make right now. There was just too much on the line—their music, their stage names, and even their freedom were in the hands of Shin Yeonghui right now and she was known for her complicated strategies. She was completely comfortable playing the long game and would just make things harder for Plastic Flowers if they didn’t follow her.

“Why don’t we come up with a plan? Like, what does everyone want for the future of their careers and we can use that to defend ourselves from Yeonghui?” Salem asks, desperate for anything to actually work. “If we can agree, that will make it harder for her to separate us and cause any more issues, yeah?” Everyone considers her plan before nodding. Though not the most ingenious plot, it would make discussions more clear from their end. She goes into the kitchen to grab a piece of paper and a pen from their junk drawer and then returns to her seat at the head of the table. “Alright… Junyeong, what do you want from contract negotiations?”

“First, I want Plastic Flowers to remain in our hands,” he explains, looking at them before rolling his eyes at their confused expressions. “If the solo career doesn’t work out, I need something to fall back on, of course. I want to dance more often though. I’ve played as nice as I can for as long as I can.”

That’s fair enough. She’s still surprised to hear that Junyeong wasn’t running to leave the band at the first chance. Of all the members, he always seemed the most likely to do so. His solo demands were predictable enough. He’s been overseeing the Superbloom monthly evaluations for dance since 2022, so hearring how badly he wanted it was no surprise. After his cover of Taemin’s Criminal at the latest cycle of award shows, the fans wanted it as well.

“Well, I want,” she pauses, trying to gain her confidence as the other members look at her. She keeps her gaze firmly on the wall next to Oliver, though. “I want to stay in the band but I think I need a break from the idol world for a bit.”

“What do you mean?” Salem asks.

“I just—I want a break. We’ve been working like dogs since debut and it would be nice to have a month without having to worry about the next album. I’m not even sure I want a solo career,” she explains, shrinking in her seat as she feels almost guilty about sharing her feelings. Before coming to Seoul, she always had to keep these things to herself and didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

Oliver nods in agreement, reaching across the table to catch her hands. She pulls them away before he can though. “I see where Yeonnie’s coming from. I would want a break before any new music as well. I have everything I could want, though, so don’t worry about me. What about you Deurim?”

“Solo career and stick with the band. I want to try to make a name for myself that isn’t tied to the rest of you or that survival show,” she explains, pausing for a moment, before adding, “no offense though.”

“None was taken,” Salem says with a sigh, writing down as quickly as she can before giving Deurim a forced smile. Jiyeon is glad Salem feels the same way about their pianist and it had been one of their initial bonding points. Deurim was always acting better than them as if she had anything to do with their success. “I want—this might sound crazy. I want my own company. I want to be one hundred percent independent from any entertainment company. I just want to be in charge of myself. So, it seems like we all want the same things… more independence from the company and each other?”

“It sounds so much easier when you put it that way,” Junyeong says. “They’ve already promised all that to us. We need them to change, like, fundamentally or something. I can’t keep working under such an awful management team anymore.”

“What else are we going to do then?” Deurim asks. “It’s going to be impossible to demand everything change. Just because we make them the money, doesn’t mean they want to share the benefits with us.”

Oliver’s lip is bleeding from picking at it, but it doesn’t seem like he’s noticed yet as he glances between them. Jiyeon almost gets him a tissue from across the room—almost. “I might have a way…” he says. “When she threatened legal action, she also gave me a way out.”

Salem’s eyes narrow as she looks at him. “Why didn’t you tell us that earlier” From the tone, everyone can tell that she’s suspicious about whatever Oliver was about to say. It was no secret he was the favorite so it could be something just for him and forgetting the other behind him. Jiyeon knows Oliver. He was many things, but he would never leave Plastic Flowers to suffer like that. He cared too much.

“She said that if I stayed, she would let the rest of you go freely. No fight for the music or songs, nothing. She wants to work with whatever new companies you sign to on Plastic Flowers stuff, though,,” he explains.

The moment of silence is broken by Junyeong asking, “Have you ever realized how weird your relationship with her is?”

“Only recently.”

“So that settles it,” Deurim claps, suddenly smiling widely at Oliver. “Oli-boy over here can stay at Superbloom while the rest of us leave. She just wants to keep some form of control over us and I say: let her have it.”

“You really think Shin Yeonghui of all people will keep her promises?” Salem asks.

“I got it in writing,” Oliver shrugs. “I wasn’t sure how everyone else felt so I wasn’t going to bring it up until we actually talked about it.”

“But is that really want you want, Oliver?” Jiyeon questions, finally looking at him for the first time that night. She would feel guilty if he had to stay in such an awful environment just so the rest of them can be free from Superbloom.

“I mean… I’m not excited to stay here, but it’s for the good of the band. I can stay for a few more years, I think.”

"Without us, they really have nothing," Jiyeon adds. "We have until August to come to an agreement before the contract actually comes to an end. Let's see what we can get from Superbloom before making any rash decisions?" The ask part comes out like a question without meaning to. She could never be sure what the others were thinking, especially with a clear answer to all their problems in front of them. She would feel guilty if Oliver had to stay at Superbloom without any real reason for it and knows that she would resent the others if they just left her behind. "We're a five member band. If we keep our ground, maybe we can try them out."

"Jiyeon's right. We need to stick together until the last possible moment. We have a get away option, but I don't want to do anything drastic yet," Salem says and she sounds more confident than Jiyeon could ever hope. "What do you guys think—Junyeong and Deurim?"

Junyeong nods in a surprise turn. Of all the members, it was always hardest to get him to agree to anything. "I think that's smart. Maybe we can get a better deal if we just continue this way."

They all look at Deurim, even though it would be pointless if she disagreed. There was already a majority in favor of this plan and she wouldn't get very far trying to protest it tonight. "This better be worth it, then," is all she has to say and Jiyeon can't help but agree.

Hopefully all this would be worth it.

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sundeathh · 2 years

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Hello honey, I hope you are still taking requests. Maybe angst with a fluffy ending 👀👀👀 Like old regrets and heartaches are replaced by hope when Aizawa and the reader meet again

Hey sweetie! For now I'm still accepting requests, but my inbox is starting to queue up, so I may close soon.

I'll probably take a little longer to write the ones in the queue since I need to focus on some things in my life right now. But since I've been having fun while writing, I'll probably come back as soon as possible!!!

Now, about the request itself, I left a few things unspoken so you could fill in the blanks however you would like, but I still set out a little bit of the plot. I hope you enjoy! ♡

WELCOME HOME

Request | Masterlist

Pairing: Aizawa × GN!Reader

Fandom: BNHA | MHA | word count: 2,7K

Categories: romance; drama; slight angst

CW: None I guess, though I almost cried while writing lol

At five in the afternoon, Aizawa is standing outside the dorm building, although he has no idea why he's doing this in the first place.

But in fact, his reason was simple.

He was hoping to make amends with the person who broke his heart so many years ago – he knew it would be a difficult task, considering all that you had gone through before, and the fact that you were still adapting to your new job.

However, despite all the obstacles, he decided it would happen today anyway.

As he stands outside your doorway, Aizawa thinks back to when you were just kids; about how you would tease him until he would be a flushed mess and poke him out of his shell because you couldn't stand seeing him alone while the other kids played with each other.

You became friends with him fast. You were talkative, easygoing, blissful, and so much more. You were everything good that he craved. And that was why you got along so well: he was the calmness you needed for dealing with your hyperactive mind while you were the strength he faulted, pushing him further to wherever he needed.

You did everything together, from playing hero and villain together through childhood, till studying together as teenagers. You went from two dumb kids that played with each other to two somewhat less dumb teenagers who got along too well. You would do anything for each other.

You also went to the hero course together at the prestigious hero school in Japan.

You could even get married someday if he had asked you to.

Shōta sighed, smiling, though he felt sad as he stared absently at the wooden pattern on your door. He remembered how you used to cry so easily whenever you didn't get what you wanted from him as a kid; but wouldn't tell anyone, acting stubbornly around him as if the pain wasn't visible on your face.

On the other hand, he was always so dense. It took you a long time to finally break through his walls, slowly peeling them down until he started opening up to you. In the process, you made him realize how much he valued you.

It took time, of course, but you eventually succeeded. And Shōta cherished you dearly. He loved you in a way he didn't even know he was capable of loving.

Shota shook his head, trying to clear his mind before knocking on your door. No matter how hard he tried to fight and forget his struggles against it – he always felt the truth would come up sooner or later.

And it came way later than he would like, sadly. But it didn't matter, he needed to know why you left.

He needed to know why you had left him as if he was nothing to you. Or why you ended things between you both before he could even say the words out loud.

It hurts to know you weren't together anymore. Knowing you could hate each other for what happened while you were still in high school.

He thought you wouldn't be willing to forgive him for what he did to you. And anyway, here he was: back to your feet, even though you also hurt him as much as he had hurt you. Even though he thought he knew better, or that he had gotten over you.

You were his first everything. And as much as he forced himself to deny it, you were also his last. He couldn't be with anyone else after you. And he didn't know why.

It just didn't feel right.

You were all he had, all he cared about, and all he ever wanted.

Right now, however, this was not an experience he thought he would have to endure, nor one Aizawa ever hoped to relive again because, after you left, he buried his feelings deep in his chest.

That was why he thought he got over you in the first place.

But he didn't.

And all it took for him to realize it was seeing you again, walking as beautiful as ever through the U.A hallways, with the same grace you had when you were just another student walking there.

He was speechless. He was also static. At first, he thought he imagined things. Then, he thought he was confusing someone else with you. But he wasn't. It was you.

The news of your hiring as a homeroom teacher reached his ears only after he saw you there with his own eyes. But he hadn't spoken to you yet. He was avoiding you, watching you at a distance.

That is, until today, a few weeks after you started at your new job.

And when you opened the door, your relaxed expression faded at the sight of him. You weren't expecting him to come to you so soon.

You weren't expecting him to come to you at all. You knew he'd must been mad at you and knew what he was going to say next.

You had prepared your mind to hear his scolding ever since your hiring – you knew he was working there beforehand, but you decided to go with the job application anyway.

After all, it wasn't like you hadn't thought carefully about meeting him again before sending your application. You were longing for it.

Anyway, Shota didn't say anything. Instead, he gave you a half smile and asked if he could come in.

It was the last thing either of you expected. But you let he in regardless.

The second his eyes met yours after you closed the door, he regretted coming there. The look in your eyes, the way you held yourself, and the fact that you didn't even greet him at all and just gave him a curt nod told him all he needed to know.

And that was all he needed to know. Because it was clear that you didn't want to deal with him right now.

There was still pain, betrayal, and sadness dancing in your eyes. But he also noticed something else.

It was fear, pure and genuine fear in your eyes. You had the same expression you wore the day you told him you were leaving: fear, sadness, guilt, and regret written across every feature of your face.

But that was all there was, and he chose not to dwell on the past, and instead sort out whatever he could fix up now.

He whispered your name. Your gaze immediately shifted towards his at the sound, and a soft gasp escaped your mouth once you met his piercing gaze.

His own eyes widened at how broken you looked. There were so many emotions filling your expression that he was sure you had never seen them all before in your lifetime.

He tried to speak, but no words came out.

Damn it. How he wished to just hold you again. But instead, he only stood there, staring at you.

"Um… hi, uh..." you began awkwardly before clearing your throat. "Do you need anything?" You asked nervously, unsure about how to proceed.

And he only averted his gaze from yours, saying nothing else.

You sighed. "Okay. Have a seat, I guess." You said before turning around and walking towards your bed, without giving him another glance.

He hesitated for a moment but then followed in, sitting next to you. He tried to make it look casual, but it was awkward. And you noticed, so you glanced over to him, waiting for him to speak.

"Listen," Shota starts. "I'm here because-"

"Look, Aizawa," you interrupted. You saw him flinch at the usage of his last name, but he didn't say anything.

"I know." You said. "I know what you're going to say."

You paused for a moment, debating on how to proceed. Shota didn't say anything, waiting patiently until you spoke again.

"I understand if you are angry. I completely agree with that. But I didn't leave you. I promised myself years ago that I would never give up on you, and I still do, but-" You stopped yourself.

You didn't have any excuse, did you?

"We both know there was never a promise between us in the first place." He said calmly.

You bite your lip, colleting your thoughts. Aizawa knew you were holding onto some feelings you've kept hidden for years. It was beyond clear.

"Yes, you're right." You continued. "I am sorry for hurting you." You apologize. "I'm sorry for leaving and making you believe I didn't care."

He looked away from your gaze.

"And... for making you feel like I was abandoning you." You added quietly.

There was a long silence, but it wasn't as awkward as you were expecting it to be.

After what you said, Aizawa didn't seem as angry anymore. He seemed disappointed. Annoyed, maybe. At how long it took for you to admit to yourself how much he meant to you.

"Why did you leave?" He asked quietly, his voice calm. You sighed, feeling defeated – he wanted you to speak your mind, and so you did.

"I had no choice." You confessed, tears stinging in your eyes from the pain and anger you felt towards yourself, but you ignored it. There were more important things to focus on right now.

"I never wanted to leave you. I felt at home with you, but I had to go anyway. I had to... I didn't want to..." you trailed off as your voice cracked, causing you to tear up. He furrowed, worry etched on his face.

He wanted to pull you into his arms and rest your head gently against his shoulder, but he restrained himself. There was too much you still weren't ready for yet.

"You were my home." You whispered, your heart aching. "But you'd be too far away… because my parents wanted me to go to study abroad. They wanted me to follow the family lead and become a great hero like them. They pressured me to move away from everyone I cared about and take risks I wasn't comfortable taking. I- I didn't want to. But it was expensive for them, so I agreed, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to miss you every day!" You explained yourself through quiet sobs and sniffs.

He swallowed thickly as your hand brushed against his, and your fingers wrapped themselves around the hand he had clenched into a fist.

"My family... they had their reasons." You said. "But I didn't. I had no reason, and they pushed me and pushed me until it became painful to be where I didn't want to be." You laughed bitterly, your gaze blurry with tears as it drifted to the floor. "It sounds so stupid now. But I was young and couldn't choose for myself. So I stayed there until I could choose wherever I wanted to be on my own."

Your lips quivered as you struggled with your tears. "I'm so sorry." You said. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much you meant to me and for taking me so long to act on it. Sorry for coming back so late." You wiped at the tears falling from your eyes as they spilled uncontrollably down your cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Silence fell upon the two of you afterward; your breathing became uneven due to how emotional you both were. Neither of you had realized just how close you were sitting until you found yourselves practically pressed against each other's side.

Aizawa's attempts on holding back his feelings during all of these years caused him to break down in front of you – and this was the last thing he planned to do when he knocked at your door a few minutes ago.

He didn't even bother wiping his tears away as you broke into uncontrollable sobs, finally burying your head against his shirt.

He didn't expect this, and neither did you. He was too shocked to react as the two of you cried together, but once you relaxed into him, he hugged you tighter than ever, burying his face in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled your so missed scent.

It almost felt unreal to him, having you in his arms like this once again. He didn't remember the last time the two of you hugged each other this tightly.

Tight enough that it felt like he could feel the way your heart pounded wildly against your chest as if it needed air.

All this time, he thought he was alone in this world. And he had convinced himself about it.

Because you did let him. Even though it wasn't intentional, even if you didn't want to hurt him.

And when you were younger, when you knew you would have to leave for good, you gave in, deciding to put a small piece of yourself in the past without a care, pushing him away from you.

But you didn't do it the right way. He thought he had done something wrong, or that you had grown bored of him, causing you to leave him.

That was why his dumb young self thought you had found someone else. That's why he was rude to you the day you had planned to tell him why you were so distant.

But his thoughts made sense inside his head, especially considering how you acted towards him. You were suddenly so cold. So not like yourself.

The sad truth is, after everything he said and done to you at that night, he deserved nothing but the coldest, most brutal treatment you could give him right now.

But instead, he was receiving a warm, caring, loving embrace. Something so sweet that reminded him vividly of how things used to be.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, tears still dripping down his face. "For not being there for you and assuming so much from you. I shouldn't have done that." He added, pulling back just enough to make eye contact with you.

You chuckled softly before shaking your head, leaning forward. "There's no need for apologizing. I don't blame you for anything anymore." You said truthfully. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, giving you a reluctant nod. He still felt guilty anyway.

And it seemed like fate knew that you both needed comfort right now, so it decided to grant you what you needed.

"Shota," you started, your voice sounding softer this time.

You looked at him directly into his eyes, your gaze holding a pleading you weren't even aware you were wearing on your face.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked.

You were surprised by how quickly his body reacted to your request, his lips immediately connecting with yours. His hands then gripped onto your waist, bringing you closer to him.

His tongue soon invaded your mouth as he kissed you passionately, almost desperate. And you let him, not bothering to push him away. You missed his kisses. You longed for how he always felt so secure against you. You missed him.

A small part of him thought this was a bad idea, that you would push him away again. But as he pulled back, you grabbed his shirt, tugging him into another kiss. One he returned with equal ardor.

You pulled away slowly after a few minutes, your foreheads resting against each other as you caught your breath. You both stared into each other's eyes for a while as your smiles faded into grins – one of joy, happiness, and relief.

That kiss was only one step closer to healing, and even though your relationship hadn't recovered yet, you knew that everything would work out eventually.

You both knew it. You both wanted it. And it was enough for both of you.

And now, you were just relieved that he forgave you, knowing it was all worth it.

Then, he nuzzled your nose with his own before capturing your lips again. And you returned the favor tenderly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He held onto you firmly, and you couldn't help but smile into the kiss, content as he held you in his arms, feeling safe for the first time since you left that night.

A faint smile appeared on your lips after you pulled away, gazing at him.

"I'm glad to be home." You whispered before your smile widened a little more.

And Shota smiled brightly just as well, reaching forward to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek with his palm afterward.

"Welcome home." He said back. "Thank you for coming back."

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