#I was waiting to drop weight a little tbh
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Just realized I could cosplay Negative Man now if I wanted to 👀👀👀
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crybaby (explicit)
genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.
word count: 4.3k
contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩
A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~
and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰
read on AO3!
~*~
You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.
He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.
And today, you want to test them, too.
That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.
There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.
“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”
“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.
You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”
The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.
When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.
That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.
Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.
One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”
That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.
Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.
His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”
“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.
You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.
“How’s that? Too tight?”
He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”
“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.
“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.
“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.
You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.
“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”
“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.
You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.
The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.
“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.
He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.
“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”
“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”
You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.
It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.
“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.
Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.
Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.
He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”
The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.
“You can’t.”
“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”
“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.
And still fighting against his fucking restraints.
“Think I could rip these?”
It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.
“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”
You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.
The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.
“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.
Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.
“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.
Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.
Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.
You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.
“Shit, that was hot.”
Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.
“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.
“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”
Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.
“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”
His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.
Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”
You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.
“F— ahh!”
Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.
Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.
“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.
The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.
Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.
“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”
You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.
You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.
The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.
He’s still hard between your legs.
“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”
With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.
He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.
The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”
It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.
“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.
Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”
“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”
A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.
The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.
“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”
Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.
You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.
“Oh, baby.”
A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.
“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”
“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”
“No? You sure?”
Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.
“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.
“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”
He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.
Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.
Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.
Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.
“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”
Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.
“Did so good for me, bunny.”
There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.
His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?
“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.
It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.
“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.
He’s still crying, you realize.
Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.
“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”
Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.
When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.
Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.
Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”
You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”
He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”
“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”
Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”
“You certainly are.”
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18 + 19 | 🔞
summary: gun eats you out and makes you squirt for the first time.
wc: 1.4k are all these number prompts are gonna be 1k+? let's wait and find out
cw: fembodied reader, smut, established relationship, oral
an: no one actually cares besides me tbh but im not making different fanfic headers for repeat character requests. after i finished this, i realized that this also fits prompt 21.
Gun laments the fact that the first time he had sex with you, the both of you were too worked up to bother with the art of foreplay. So when he propositions you for a redo to do things properly, you weren’t sure what you expected.
But you definitely weren’t anticipating him asking you to ride his face. Sure, the brazen way he goes about it was something you could have predicted. It’s the thinly veiled neediness in his voice, the truly primal hunger in his eyes and how his jaw drops open when prop yourself over him. Knees sinking into the plush mattress with your thighs on either side of his head, his hand reaches for yours to help you keep balanced.
Before he even touches you, you feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your sticky folds and you let out a small gasp. Fingers still interlocked with yours, both his hands settle on your hips to keep you in place. When you see him lean in to close the small distance between his mouth and your heat, you brace yourself for the lashings of his sinful tongue but it never comes. Instead, his lips latch on to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. The feathery kisses make you shudder and goosebumps prickle your skin. Trailing closer and closer to where you want him, when you finally feel him plant a kiss on your swollen clit, the simple action has his lips glossed up with the sheen of your arousal. Pulling back slightly, he looks up at you with a smug grin; tongue poking out to lick up your wetness from his lips. His first taste of you has him absolutely elated, a rush of pleasure rushing to his cock and he’s eager to seek more of it.
Yet there’s reluctance. Coming from your end. When Gun tugs on your hips to bring you closer so he doesn’t have to crane his neck the whole time, you resist him.
“What are you doing?” He questions, trying to mask his annoyance out of fear that you might genuinely be put off by something he did.
“I’ll crush you if I put my full weight on you.” You mumble, heat spreading across your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” Gun taunts, unphased by your admission as he looks up with you. A smirk graces his lips before he speaks again. “Now, be good and spread your pussy open so I can eat.”
Not giving you a chance to argue back, his hand slips out of yours before he delivers a sharp smack to your ass that makes your whole body lurch forward; your lower half getting dangerously close to his mouth. Gun anticipated some sort of shyness from you but he didn’t think he would like it this much. Embarrassment paints your expression but it doesn’t quite match up with the wet mess between your legs, your pussy getting wetter right above his lips as your trembling hand reaches to touch yourself. Fingers ghosting over the slick skin, you demurely evade Gun’s eyes while you part your folds for him.
His breath hitches at the sight of you so spread open for him, really allowing him to see every bit of your glistening pussy.
“You really are gorgeous everywhere.” Gun muses quietly, making you wonder if you were meant to hear the compliment but it’s only a fleeting thought.
You let out a surprised squeak when he roughly grabs you by the hips, pulling you down onto his tongue and letting you feel his tongue on you for the first time. The little lick to your exposed clit is more than enough to get him hooked. You’re absolutely soaked, leaking your nectar and Gun wants to lap it all up straight from the source. But, he needs to show some restraint this time around.
“Keep yourself spread open for me.” He demands, voice muffled due to him mumbling into your skin before he flicks his tongue over your clit again.
Gun focuses his attention on your most sensitive spot, enamored by the way each pass of his tongue makes your pussy drool and the sweetest moans to tumble past your lips. Your sounds do little to satiate his appetite, only making him more ravenous when he feels your wetness smeared out all over the lower half of his face.
“Oh fuck—keep going—” You gasp, finally letting yourself sit all the way down on and your hands flying to Gun’s hair, gripping the inky black locks tightly.
Now, Gun can really give you his tongue and show you what you’ve been missing. Gentle is the way his lips encase your clit before he starts to suckle between flicks of his tongue; relishing in the pretty sounds you make and ignoring his untouched cock aching to feel your warmth.
Shamelessly, you grind your hips back and forth on his tongue. It doesn’t cross your mind that Gun isn’t the type to normally tolerate such lewd behavior while he’s eating. But for you, he’ll make an exception. You look and taste so good while you’re selfishly getting drunk on the pleasure he gives you.
“Your tongue feels too good.” You whine, finally rid of all your inhibitions and looking down to meet Gun’s eyes.
You don’t even notice that a stray tear had rolled down your cheek; your face was already decorated in a light layer of perspiration from trying to keep yourself together. However, Gun craves to break you. He wants to see you come undone from just his tongue so he can help put you back together. Your needy movements tell him everything. You’re so, so close to falling apart. You just need that extra push.
Fingers digging into the meat of your hip, Gun snakes his tongue into your pussy; burying it deep while his nose pressed against your swollen clit. Thankful that you were doing such a good job of keeping yourself spread for him, he’s able to greedily feast on your cunt. At this point, he might want you to cum more than you actually want it yourself. Just the idea of you cumming in his mouth and giving him your essence sends another rush of blood to his cock.
Gun keeps a close watch of your face, anticipating your finish as he feels the familiar sensation of your walls convulsing around him. Brow furrowed, your mouth hanging open, and your thighs trembling, your orgasm is just around the corner but it doesn’t feel like any that you’ve had before. As much as you try to hold back and make sense of why it felt so different, Gun’s determination to bring you to the pinnacle of pleasure is on another level.
You can’t control your moans or give any warning before it feels like all the tension in your body gathers in the pit of your stomach then snaps like a rubber band. Your mind is totally blank as you sob out, only feeling this gush of wetness trickling out of you. With your eyes squeezed shut, you miss Gun’s expression of pure elation as you squirt all over his face. He was so fucking hard just from eating you out, it takes a ridiculous amount of control for him to stop himself from thrusting upwards on instinct.
Gun laps up your release like he had been dehydrated for days and you were his salvation; moaning into your sensitive flesh and licking everything up until the only taste that lingered on you was just his saliva. By the time Gun’s appetite has been satisfied, your mind has come back and you realize what just happened.
“I’ve never done that before.” You admit quietly, pulling off of him and moving to sit on his lap. Just a few more inches down and you would have settled right on top of his hard cock that was throbbing in need of attention.
“Never?” Gun echoes, an amused hum rumbling in the back of his throat as he licks his lips, your honey still lingering on his taste buds. “I guess we’ll be spending the night finding out how many times you can squirt before you start whining about being too sensitive.”
Though his words are teasing, they’re nothing but honest. You had already anticipated a long evening ahead of you after finding out just how much stamina Gun possessed. But after your sweet pussy was generous enough to squirt for him, he intends on finding out exactly how much you can give him.
#lookism x reader#lookism smut#gun park smut#gun park scenarios#park jonggun x reader#park jonggun smut#junggunz.txt#arminsumi prompts
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Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic rivals AU])
Hiii! Ya girl is sick 🙃 but it’s okay! I wanted this chapter to be longer but I felt like it was taking too long to put out so I’m gonna just make the next one longer. Hope you enjoy! Not proofread.
(L/Y)- Last name.
Um, Shakespeare? Miguel and reader squabbling, cursing, nothing really tbh.
Word count: 1.3k
Series Masterlist Series playlist
Chapter 5: And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you
—
You felt a little delusional, having found yourself growing fond of the masked hero. But how could you not? He was so kind, offering to drop you off back to your room, he was probably just doing his job as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, seeing you struggling to make your way across the campus while he was probably watching the streets, and saw you needed some help. But you’re just a girl, who were you to not allow yourself to be a bit delulu and pretend that the spider was in love with you?
Shaking your head, getting rid of the lingering thoughts of your favorite insect, your giddiness started to turn to annoyance when your mind shifted to your lovely (derogatory) English partner. What a jerk, leaving a poor injured girl on campus like that. Without even realizing it you start to compare the two in your head, despite not having interacted with the wall-crawling hero for more than an hour if you added both interactions together time-wise. It’s a bit of a silly comparison the more you sit on it, what would a loser like Miguel have in common with Spider-Man?
You drop the thoughts as you placed your headphones on and begin to listen to music, pulling out your math homework.
—
Miguel pulled his navy blazer all the way on, making sure the buttons on his white button up were down properly after having missed a button the first time. Half-hazardly making sure he didn’t trip over his untied shoelaces as he turned a corner and almost crashed with another student wandering the halls. Shouting a rushed apology as he adjusted his book bag over his shoulder again,having to make sure it didn’t fall as he went from corridor to corridor.
He didn’t have to be a genius to know that he was gonna get a ear full for abandoning you in the library, he'd be surprised if you even opened the door for him when he shows up to your room unannounced. Praying that him helping you back to it while in his spider persona will help earn him some brownie points if it’s it’s as Spider-Man and not… Miguel. You wouldn’t know the difference, sure but it was most just so he didn’t feel as guilty.
The fact he felt guilt towards you in anyway at all was a bit too much for him to fully process, Miguel wasn’t the type to sympathize with others despite his super alter-ego, so finding himself go out of his way for the girl that has made his academic career a living hell since the 6th grade was… a lot to say the least. Dwelling on it for more than a few seconds was enough to make his temples begin to pulse with tension. So he’ll push it down into the caverns of his mind where he’ll abandon the thoughts until they vanish completely, although that task was difficult to do when he was forced into such close proximity to you due to this stupid, and in his opinion unnecessary assignment. But… no point in tanking either of your grade point averages because of his stubborn pride.
He hadn’t even realized he had arrive in front of your door because of all of his thoughts running rampant, deciding to wait for a second before knocking, telling himself that it’s so he doesn’t look completely out of breath, swinging from downtown to your dorm, then back to his just to ran back to yours, and not to help him prolong the upcoming conversation with you.
He knocked after finally recomposing him, shuffling his weight on his feet as he waited, a tick he’s picked up from his brother. There was no answer, so he knocked again, a bit louder now. He knew you weren’t asleep already, it was too early for you to be asleep. He subconsciously released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he heard the faint muffled sound of sheets shuffling, before footsteps then being met face-to-face with you. It was obvious it took you a second to register his presence, your small smiling face slowly forming into your usual scowl when you were around him.
“Hey-wait-wait!.” His foot darted out to keep you from fully closing the door in his face, not even so much as flinching when you brought your small one out in an attempt to kick his away with your fluffy bunny slippers. “I know, I know- I should have told you- I couldn’t make it!-“ Despite your smaller stature, you were putting one hell of a fight against his feet, he wouldn’t be surprised if you end up injuring your good foot by the end of this.
“Like hell you should have!” You foot finally came to a halt only for your balled fist to hit his shoulder, he gave no reaction since it didn’t hurt at all, but his jaw did tense a bit, stopping himself from straight up picking you up again like he did last time he came to your dorm unannounced, not wanting to piss you off more. “Your lucky Spiderman spotted me and helped me back to my room, or else I’d be more pissed off from having to do all that walk.”
“Spider-Man huh?” Miguel’s eyebrows shot up as he attempted to act surprised, taking his foot away from It’s makeshift post as a door stopper. “Isn’t he supposed to be stopping crime, not picking up random girls at night time?” The comment slipped from his lips subconsciously, a self criticism, but you for some reason had taken the comment as a personal jab, him noting the lines scattered between your eyebrows deepening as he quickly brought his hand to keep the door from closing again.
“Is there a reason you’re here ooor…” God why did you always have to be so bratty, one of these days he was gonna shut up that pretty fucking mouth of yours. It took all his composure to not turn around and stomp back to his own room, he'd rather deal with Gabriel’s loud-ass gaming sessions with his friends than another sarcastic quip of yours.
“I’m here so we can work on the stupid project.” He groaned with an eyeroll, “so can you just let me in so we can get this over with? The sooner we start the sooner we finish.”
With a sigh you open the door.
—
“Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, and death's pale flag is not advanced there- I’m sorry, I can’t, I feel like my soul is dying, I’d rather blow my brains out then have to continue to read the rest of this mind-numbing monologue.” Miguel groaned as he tossed his copy of the scene on your coffee table, before crossing his arms over his chest. You let out an exasperated sigh as you allow yourself to fall backwards on your bed that you were both sitting on, the smiths playing quietly in the background from your vinyl record player.
“It’s been 5 minutes O’Hara.”
“And I refuse to read another 5 minutes more.” With a groan you begin to slowly pick yourself back up into a sitting position as he continues to rant. “This whole thing is stupid,” he motioned to the pages he now had scattered on your table, “he barely knew the girl, and he’s gonna just… end it all for her, completely insane.” He shook his head, the bed dipping underneath him as leaned back, resting on his forearms.
“Okay, I admit it is a bit…asinine…but-“ You murmured, before being cut off.
“But?” Miguel shot back up, looking at you as if you had grown a second head.
“Buuut, they were young and in love. Only a few years younger than us, love makes you do foolish things,” You attempt to reason with a shrug, only to be met with a scoff and an eye roll. The dismissive action from the male made you scowl a bit, not like how quickly he can write off the concept, “but you wouldn’t know anything like that, your heart’s made of ice, O’Hara.”
“And yours of glass, (L/N).”
—
Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini12 @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o hara fanfic#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#astv miguel#astv spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara au#miguel spiderverse#love me or hate me fanfic#academic rivals au#atsv miguel#miguel x reader
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trust
summary: your little crush on the lord you serve is exacerbated when he saves your life.
word count: 0.8k | character(s): darth vader x reader
notes: it was stuck in my head; you and vader aren’t in a relationship but you work together and get caught in this mess together.
warnings: vader being the lil bitch he is <3 no gore no violence tbh
“Look out!” the man overhead jeered, gripping tightly around your upper arm as he haphazardly tossed you off the open hatch. You yelped out of instinct, before landing hard in the arms of your lord.
Darth Vader holds you much like a bride, and the chaos around you falls away. The gaze of his visor is fixed on the ship you were just thrown from, and he is eerily silent. In one dark second, you fear you’ve disappointed him, and the current compromising position becomes most dire.
“Put me down!” you demand, thrashing in his grip out of humiliation. Complying, he drops your legs, and your feet are met with the nimble peak of the spire you both now balance on. Your toes overstep the edge, and once your eyes meet the ground far below, you panic. The adrenaline of the setting controls you, and you cling onto the Sith Lord. “Pick me back up- pick me back up!” Whatever is within reach: his cape, his robes, his shoulders are all fair game to use to your advantage, climbing up him without a second thought.
His concentration and his freedom to force the shuttle to hold— to tear it back to him in order to escape this and teach those who wronged him a lesson— is broken, now focused on you and your frightened idiocy. The arm around your middle remains, but he grabs hold of your wrist as he stumbles back because of how you throw yourself at him. You scream in the face of death, and he counter-balances with your weight. As the two of you straighten, sharing the limited space chest to chest, an intense red cakes your cheeks from the proximity as well as your display of cowardice. He towers over you, and you feel the weight of his arms around you.
If it were anyone else, he’d care not if they plunged to meet the Maker, but it was you. As infuriating as it is.
“I’m—“ you begin your apology, but you are swiftly interrupted.
“Calm yourself.” His rumbling command rolls through like a thunder, and you obey him so as to not worsen your unlucky circumstances. “I have no time for your groveling. There are more pressing matters at hand.”
You gulp, and you nod.
His arm moves to grasp your other wrist, raising them above your head, and twisting you delicately— much like a dainty doll— so your back is to him, his indicators jabbing into your skin. You try to ignore how much you like him taking control of a situation, so you don’t have to. Habitually, your fingers cup over his gloves, and tighten when he lifts you. Your feet part from the ground, and point, swaying in his hold as you gather the words.
“Wait, wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to drop you.” he replies as he steps forward, the vision of life-defying height causing a lightning bolt of terror to course through your veins.
“What?” you cry out, your legs kicking out, begging to be reinstated to the spire as narrow as it is. “No, no, my lord, please, I’ve done nothing—“
“Quiet! I am not condemning you to execution! I am going to catch you.” The anger in his voice, reminiscent of frustration rather than wrath, makes you tremble like a newborn fawn anyway.
“What? No!”
“It is the only way.”
“It is not!”
Still he keeps you as you are, and you fight off tears.
“You chose to ruin our chances when I could’ve caught the prosecutor's stolen shuttle! Accept your fate or die.”
“Stop!”
His grip loosens, and you slip through, the thrill of falling shooting your stomach into your chest. Wind rips through your hair so loud you cannot hear your own scream. A cushion of air, invisible to the eye, envelopes you, slowing your descent. It’s nothing, there is no matter nor pressure; you float yet you are not feather-light. Your confusion interjects your cry, looking up to see Vader’s steady and shaped hand. He caught you, like he said he would.
His range is incredible, and you wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t witness it. The spire he remained at the top of, was kilometers tall. Yet you sense no struggle as the force around you dissipates, and you land curtly onto the sand. You check on the Sith, your predicament now resolved means you adopt a new one. How is he going to get down?
Your question is answered as quickly as it was asked.
The dark red of his sith blade ignites, filling into its form. You watch as he steps off the spire, and sinks his saber into its side. He slides down at a record pace, but he outstretches his hand, combining the efforts of the minimal friction of his weapon with the padding of the force.
Heavy, he dents the ground when he makes contact, and like the lovesick fool you are, you’re entranced the entire time. The spire crumbles behind him, influenced by his opposing force pressure, the dust and debris clouds everywhere but him and where he steps.
You’re not even spared a side glance as he passes you.
“Come.” he recalls. Loyal, like a dog, you do as you’re told.
#indy: drabbles#ch: vader#darth vader drabble#x gn!reader#darth vader fanfiction#darth vader imagine#sw#star wars#darth vader x reader#star wars fanfiction#no smut#slow burn#romance#burnt!vader
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hdidjdd hi aceee <3
saw that your requests are open … 👀
is it alright if i request a mikey x reader, orrr a ryusei x reader, where reader is suffering from burnout from school ?? like, all their work keeps pilling on top of each other, and its just too much for reader to handle. reader is literally just mentally and physically exhausted, and they havent got the energy to do anything
icl .. this is literally my life rn and many others 🧍♀️
but if you dont wanna do this, that’s perfectly fine !
LY <33
hi love<333 thank you so much for requesting! Ugh tbh I relate so much to this. Like school just started and I’m already so done. The senioritis is hitting HARD
Anyway, I really loved writing this and I really wanted to make this headcanon so I added shin to make it three! Hope you enjoy and I love you sm <33
WHEN YOU’RE FEELING BURNT OUT
reader is gender neutral!
characters: manjiro (mikey) sano, ryusei satou, shinichiro sano
tw: cursing, depression, being burnt out, mental exhaustion, etc.
RYUSEI
Tired. That’s all you felt. So tired. Each day a new weight always seemed to get added to your shoulders. Whether it was homework, or just the thought of school alone, it all made you feel…exhausted.
It quickly became too much. Every day lasted longer and longer. Your work built up more and more. Even talking to your friends seemed like a task. It just seemed like there was no end to any of it, it made you so tired…so stressed.
And Ryusei noticed that.
Ever since you had shown up to school, you noticed he was giving you an odd look. He kept looking at you, confused, as if he was trying to figure something out. Then, confused turned to concern, and concern turned onto questions.
“Y/n?” Ryusei asked, pulling you away from your friends. “Are you okay?”
Nervously, you laughed, barely being able to keep eye contact with Ryusei. “What?” you chocked out. “I’m fine! Just a little tired is all”
Ryusei looked at you skeptically and sighed. Sure, you were tired, but he knew there was a lot more going on than that. He knew very well there was something a lot deeper than “a little tired” going on.
“Y/nnn” he began, gently holding your shoulders. “Don’t lie to me”
“I told you, I’m just tired”
“No”, Ryusei persisted. “There’s something wrong, very wrong. What’s bugging you love?”
Silently, you looked up at him. Your mouth pressed together, and you sighed, as if you were getting ready to say something. A familiar glint appeared in your eyes, one that remined him all too much of tears. His heartbeat picked up and he was ready to whisk you away to safety. But, just as you opened your mouth to say something, someone interrupted you.
“Y/n! What’re you waiting for? We gotta go!” your friends yelled. They were waving you down, telling you it’s time to go to class…to more work. “Coming!”, you answered. And in one movement, you gave Ryusei an apologetic look and left. Ryusei just watched you leave, worried.
Throughout the day Ryusei thought about you non-stop. On the outside, he was his happy, dandy, teasing self. He spent his day with friends, teasing Chifuyu, and sleeping on the roof. He looked fine, happy even. But on the inside, worried plagued him. You looked so sad, so tired. And he hated that. It drove him crazy.
Even worse, he kept trying to talk to you, trying to comfort you—but you avoided him. Every time he’d walk by you or call your name, you’d drop your head and act like he wasn’t there. It was like he was a ghost. And that, worried him more than anything.
Eventually, Ryusei had enough. Mid-way through the school day, right before you went into your last class, Ryusei grabbed your arm and walked you up to his favorite place—the school rooftop.
“Ryusei!” you yelled, attempting to pull away. “Ryusei?! What’re you doing?!”
Ryusei said nothing. He didn’t turn to you, he didn’t look at you, and he didn’t say anything. He just kept walking you up to the roof. No matter how many times you yelled for him and asked him what was going on, he just ignored you and kept going.
It wasn’t until you reached the roof that he did something. He hugged you.
In an instant, he dropped all of his cool-boy bravado. He just stood there and hugged you. He didn’t tease you and he didn’t act like he usually did. He just let it all go and showed his soft, boyfriend-y side that he showed to no one else but you.
Silently, he pulled you closer, and hugged you as tight as he could. He cradled your head and ran his finger through your hair. His head rested on top of yours. His breath blew your hair a bit. It was a real, loving hug. You completely fell into it. You let him wrap his arms around you, cradle you, and hold you as if this was the end of the world. You stood there with your head against his chest, just listening to his heartbeat.
“Y/n...” he began, still running his fingers through your hair. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with you?”
Silent. It was completely silent for a few minutes. You said nothing, you did nothing. But Ryusei could feel you tense up. He could feel you grip onto his shirt a little more.
“I-I already told you. I’m just a little tired.” you shakily uttered. Ryusei, however, didn’t buy it one bit.
“Please don’t lie to me, Y/n” Ryusei replied, tightening his arms around you. “Please, please don’t lie”
Suddenly, you shook. You shook hard, and soon enough, Ryusei heard sobs. Tear were streaming down your face and wetting his shirt. You gripped onto him as hard as you could and just cried. And Ryusei let you.
“I’m so done”, you whimpered. “The work it…never ends! It keeps coming and coming and, and—I can’t do it anymore! I just want a break!” you sobbed. “I want it to end”
Ryusei just sighed and he kept hugging you. He felt terrible that he couldn’t just take all the stress off you and put it on himself. He wished he could take all your worries away so you could be the happiest person on earth. But he couldn’t do any of that, as much as he wished he could. But he could still do one thing.
“I’m here…” Ryusei muttered, stroking your hair. “And I always will be”
Indeed, Ryusei would be. He would always be there by your side, picking you up in the worst of times. Although he wished those bad time never happened, he still stayed by you though it all. And although he didn’t see as much, it was more than enough.
He was enough, and he always would be.
MIKEY
Life has been hard lately. Every day it seemed like just getting out of bed was a task. Going to school is practically a nightmare anymore. The work seems nonstop. It feels like the moment you get something done; 2 other things pop up. You couldn’t keep up; you can still barely keep up. You knew you needed to get up, you knew you needed to do the work, but you just couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything.
It had only been the beginning of the school year, yet you were already so done. You were so tired. It felt like life was moving forward quickly, so quickly you could barely keep up. You wanted, no needed nothing more than for it to slow down. But clearly that wasn’t happening. After all, thing upon thing kept piling up in your list of stuff you need to do. And it was all so exhausting.
For now, all you could do was try. Trying was really the only option you had, but even trying didn’t feel like enough. You didn’t feel like enough. Maybe that was why you showed up at your boyfriend’s house 2’oclock in the morning. Or maybe it was because you didn’t think you could keep going if you couldn’t see his face. Either way, you were knocking on Mikey’s door in the middle of the night on a school night, praying he would answer.
You knew this probably wasn’t a good idea. After all, Mikey is a busy man. Having to deal with Toman, fights, and of course the burden of whatever goes on in his head takes a toll on him. You knew that right now he was either busy or tired, and you felt guilty plaguing him more. But you needed him. You needed him so badly right now. So, here you were pounding on his door at 2’clock in the morning, awaiting an answer.
It didn’t take Mikey longer than a couple minutes to open the door. The poor blonde looked disheveled, confused even. He still wore his Toman uniform, and his hair was up in his usual semi-up hairstyle (at least as much as it could be). Somehow, he still looked like a kid in this state. He gripped onto his towel tightly, and drool ran down his face. Unfortunately, his eyed were anything but that of a kids. They were droopy, blank, and usually dark. The dullness in his eyes was scary. It really spoke lengths as to how tired Mikey was.
“Y/n-chin?”, Mikey mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
Looking up at him, you felt guilty. The dark circles underneath his eyes were even darker that they were. You instantly regretted disturbing him. But you needed him. It was an uphill battle you weren’t sure would be ending anytime soon.
“Umm…” you began, eyes moving away from his. “I just needed to see you.”
Confused, he glanced at you, before opening the door wider for you to come in. Silently, you slipped in, and took off your shoes. Mikey, on the other hand, ran back into bed. He went back into a half-asleep in what seemed like an instant. Still, his eyes carefully watched you. He was skeptical already, but the way you awkwardly stood by the door unmoving only made him that much more skeptical.
“What’re you waiting for?” Mikey mumbled, lifting gup his blankets. “Get in”
You sighed, before crawling into bed next to the blonde boy. His hair was already sprawled all over the place and he looked exhausted. Yet, he still laid awake. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. Happily, you buried your head deep into his chest, and just laid there, listening to his heartbeat. It was calm, as was his breathing. In a way, it put you to sleep. But just as you felt you conciseness begin to slip away, Mikey spoke, his voice more serious than normal.
“Y/n…what’s wrong?” he said, running his fingers through your hair. He was looking directly in your eyes, with a more serious look than you’ve seen in a while.
“Huh? What are you talking about? I’m fine” you retaliated, refusing to drag him down more. Unfortunately, Mikey wasn’t buying it for a second. “Uh huh”, he replied, pulling away. “That’s why you look so sad”
“What?”
“There’s clearly something wrong Y/n. I can tell from your eyes” he began, cupping your face. “You can’t lie to me, idiot”
In an instant, you felt everything in your body just…release. All the stress, overwhelm, exhaustion, in all took over. Tears began running down your face. And then, soon enough, you found yourself sobbing into Mikey’s chest while he held you.
“Shhh…it’s okay”, he mumbled into your hair. Silently, he ran his fingers through your hair as he just let you…cry. You didn’t say anything, but Mikey already knew what was wrong. He watched you from afar. He saw how you instantly looked more stressed when the teacher brought up more work. He saw how tired you looked. He watched how you struggled to even look at all homework, let alone do it. He knew what was wrong, and he understood.
He understood all too well.
“I’m so tired, Mikey!”
“I know…I know…” he mumbled, tightening his hug. “Don’t worry, I’m here…i’m here with you”
In that moment, your whole world became a whole lot lighter.
SHINICHIRO
Shinichiro had noticed how tired you looked.
The bags under your eyes spoke more than words could say. Your unusual distance, the dullness in your eyes, your uninterest to do anything; Shinichiro had noticed it all. Hell, he had noticed more than once you been crying. After all, red, puffy eyes didn’t happen for no reason.
Even when you came to visit him at the bike shop, you looked so tired. Even when you looked at him, the light in your eyes seemed to fade away. Everything about you now worried Shinichiro to no end.
He worried about you all the time. He just couldn’t get the thought of your dull face out his head. It plagued him a way, but maybe it was just the worry any boyfriend should experience.
Either way, he worried about you—your safety and your health. Shinichiro had tried many times before to talk to you, to figure out what was wrong, but you always gave the same answer.
“I’m fine.”
He knew damn well that wasn’t true, but he didn’t want to push you. So, Shin let it go. He decided to let you come to talk to him instead of forcing something out. But, one day, when you just suddenly disappeared, he had enough.
It was a school day, in fact, it was one of your last school days. Shin had just handed off the black dragons, and he finally had a plan to work full-time at the bike shop. Shin went to school, texted you, did stuff in class, and then continued through his day like it was nothing. However, not long after 1st period began, Shin noticed immediately that you hadn’t answered any of his texts, and it worried him. But hey, maybe you’re just running late, and you haven’t checked your phone!
Oh, how wrong that was. And Shin knew exactly how wrong it was when you didn’t show up to school…at all. He texted you what seemed like hundreds of times, trying to get a hold of you, but he got nothing. All day, there was just no sign of you.
He had to admit, Shinichiro hadn’t been this panicked in a long time. He wasn’t sure what was going on, or exactly what to do about it, but he was going to get to the bottom of it. After all, you were one of the most important people in his life; he had to make sure you’re okay.
In heartbeat, he rushed to your house. He didn’t care that they were still time left in the day, or that he had a test later, Shin ran to your house. Frantically, he knocked on the door, praying you’d answer. And at first, there was nothing. But after banging on the door again and pleading for you to come out, you finally answered the door.
Exhausted. That’s what you looked and that’s what you were. The bags under your eyes were darker than ever before, and your eyes themselves were as blood shot as could be. You sniffled, looking up at Shin.
“W-what’re you doing here, Shin?” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Shin just looked at you, relived. “Y/n?! Oh my god, thank the lord you’re alive!!” Shin yelled, pulling you into his chest. The taller man squeezed you as tight as he could, finally letting the anxiety in his body lessen.
“The hell are you talking about?”, you croaked out, returning the hug. Your voice, however, was raspy and dry. Shin worriedly ran his finger through your hair and asked beyond a lot of questions. But the biggest thing of all wasn’t even a question, but a demand.
“Y/n”, Shinichiro said, pulling away. He gently held your face in his hands, but his face was a serious as could be. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Wha-“
“What is wrong?” he sternly said, his stare as serious as ever. Silently you dropped your head, and finally let more tears run. Your body shook and quickly began wiping the tears away. You tried containing yourself, but the more you tried to, the worse it became. Quickly, you began sobbing. And soon enough, you were uncontrollably sobbing.
“Woah, woah, woah” Shin said, immediately pulling you back into his chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay”
“I’m so tired!” you sobbed out, though not very clearly. “I-I can’t do this anymore!”
“What can’t you do anymore?” Shin gently questioned stroking your hair. He was so gentle with you, so caring, yet so pained at the same time. This hurt more that he ever thought it would. It almost felt like his heart was cracking with each sob you let out.
God, all of this was horrible.
“I -can’t so this! I can’t do anything!” you sobbed gripping onto his shirt. “The work never stops it just keeps coming! I-I can’t take it anymore! I’m so fucking tired!”
“I can’t live like this”, you continued “I’m just not…enough”
Shin sighed, before pulling away again. Gently he cupped your face and began wiping the tears away. His eyes looked into yours the whole time. He was serious, dead serious. His tone and voice were serious too. He meant what he said completely, but more than anything, he meant what he would say next.
“You’ll always be enough for me, Y/n”
masterlist || reblogs are very appreciated <33 || so sorry for any typos too lol
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#manjiro sano x reader#ryusei satou x reader#shinichiro sano x reader#tokyo rev#tokyo rev x you#tr#tokyo revengers x y/n#tokyo revengers x you#manjiro sano#manjiro sano x you#manjiro sano x y/n#mikey#mikey x reader#ryusei satou#ryusei satou x you#ryusei satou x y/n#ryusei sato#ryusei x reader#ryusei#shinichiro#shinichiro sano x you#shinchiro sano#shinichiro x you#shinchiro x reader#shinichiro x y/n#headcanons#tokyo revengers headcanons
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favorite parts of today's episode of last twilight bc I'm still thinking about it hours later:
1. mohk swearing up and down that he hasn't told day he liked him. uh huh whatever you gotta do babe. you might not be lying but you're sure not truth telling. technicality at best At. Best.
2. gee instant journey from skeptic to shipper. get you a best friend who is ready to tear you down and hype you up in the same conversation tbh
3. this is actually like four things.
a) i'm calling mohk all the way out on point 1 because he knows the kiss was tantamount to a confession because what he says is he /just wants day to know how he feels/ without saying anything further about his feelings I see you you little sneak
b) this sad boy :((( who is going to Do The Right Thing Again and keep his feelings very thoughtfully to himself
c) yeah i'm not actually mad at mohk at all and to be honest the reason is I'm sort of mad at day this whole episode. i know baby is in denial but i wish he would stop implying mohk is anything but the fuzziest softest boy
4. /i'm leaving. don't want to get chased away again/ /wait up. can you read to me?/ nong day take your head out of your ass o'clock. tend to your cold hearted bad boy you both want it and he is suffering
5. right after mohk agrees that he's the last person that fits the "warm and nice" description he warmly and nicely points out the location of the food he has just made for and served to day and warmly and nicely tells him to eat up while looking at him...you know what warmly and nicely do not do it here. with absolute adoration and tenderness
6. called tf out. porjai is so fucking funny. namtan's timing on the weighted glances here is fantastic. out of this world. no notes. i adore her
5. day telling mohk that he can feel rung's warmth in the house and mohk gazing back at him like this. softest! boy! alert!
...the real question is why are they still letting everyone talk about mohk like he's some sort of lean mean toughness machine. did they not know jimmy was going to make him into this? honestly that's my best guess bc visually impaired or not nobody in mohk's life could be this blind to his words and actions
6. so we're all in agreement that they're getting married before we put this thing to bed huh. fucking superb p'aof you funky little director. do us right
7. ok i /did/ think for a hot second that day was about to push mohk away romantically again and i was ready to be mad at him again and then WHAM angst drop. p'aof just can't help himself and you know what nor can i i eat this stuff Up. mohk visibly panicking as he strokes day's hair and uses his best gentle voice to calm him down i. eat it up i'm telling you
#listen i want them to be happy#but and#i do like my favorites to suffer a little on the way there#also long post cw sorry#i never think i'm going to have that much to say/write and then i start and well...#last twilight#mhokday#jimmysea
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Falling
tenth doctor x fem!reader
SUMMARY: reader needs a helping hand. The Doctor offers her one.
fluff tbh
i wrote this with ten in mind, but honestly it could be read as any except 13.
WARNING. deals with serious mental health topics, such as depression.
Sometimes I feel like I'm falling. Time around me slows and my arms flail around helplessly. My mouth is open wide as I scream so hard my throat burns, but no sound can be heard. I've been falling for so long that I begin to lose hope. I wonder, what will happen when I reach the bottom? Will I land on my back and become paralysed, unable to move, unable to feel? Will I just become a shell of the person I used to be? Or maybe I'll land on my feet. But still stuck. Trapped at the bottom of an endless abyss with only the darkness to keep me company.
Which would be worse?
I'm not sure.
I felt myself nearing to the end. I used to feel scared, but I think I made peace with my impending doom. But then, a few months ago, I met a man. Honestly, I still believe he's an angel in man form. He constantly tries to assure me he is far from it, though I'll never believe him. After all, how can my saviour, my hero, be anything other than a good man?
His name, or title, really, is ironic. A title he shares with us because his real name is too powerful to be spoken. And this man is The Doctor.
When I met him, and he whisked me away in his little blue box, I started seeing a light. I no longer felt like I was falling. Don't get me wrong, I was still a long while away from reaching the top, though now I was suspended in the air, bright light peering through, guiding me upwards. My legs would kick and my arms would punch, this time with motive. I was swimming back up to the surface.
And I could feel him waiting. Often now I could imagine his smile as he greeted me, the hand he'd offer as he'd lower me onto the ground. Life would have colour again. All in aid of him.
"Y/n," He'd whisper and I'd just look at him as though he'd hung the moon and stars, just for me. "Welcome home."
I stir in bed when I heard my name being called. I blink, then squint as my eyes adjust to the influx of light. I want to press my head back into the pillow, condemning all of the brightness that bids me goodmorning, but before I can, I feel a hand on my duvet covered hip. The Doctor.
I look up, and he smiles so kindly. "Morning," he says, and I smile in response. He places a cup of tea on the table beside me, then asks softly if I'm going to get up, if I'm going to shower. I nod, saving my breath as my energy gradually heightens.
He exhales softly. He doesn't prod for more answers, he never forces me to move. He allows me to take things at my own pace. And I'm eternally grateful.
His hand makes contact with my face, and he begins to brush away strands of hair that shield my eyes. I just blink up at him, trying my best to speak through body, rather than words. He stares back, and I may be deluded to assume we are both having a conversation in touch, rather than I speaking alone.
After a few seconds pass, he tells me to budge up, so I do. I make room for him in my bed, and he slips in next to me, the mattress creaking as he drops his weight, alongside the duvet wrinkling when he wraps it comfortably around the two of us.
"My Doctor." I mutter as I snuggle into him.
He looks my way, going back to stroking my hair before he responds. "You shouldn't call me that, you know?"
I just blink back absently, waiting for further explanation.
"I chose this name as a promise. Never had to put it into practice before. I don't think I make a very good doctor. Maybe you shouldn't be relying on me to act as yours."
At this, I frown. "How could I think of you as anything but?" I ask, sincerely. "You're too hard on yourself. Every day you fulfill the promise you made. You can't save everyone, Doctor," I tell him, knowing his mind often hovers on the fates of former companions. "But you saved me."
His eyes meet mine once again, and a smile takes over his face. "Yeah?"
Without so much as a second thought, I confirm. "Yes."
He just smiles wider, then leans down and kisses my forehead, forcing me to smile back in return. His hand trails down under the cover until it finds mine, and he laces our fingers together.
"I think you've saved me just as much as I saved you." He speaks.
I rub my thumb on the back of his hand and whisper:
"My doctor."
#doctorwho#doctor who#doctor who x you#doctor who x y/n#doctor who x reader#new who#tenth doctor x y/n#tenth doctor x you#tenth doctor x reader#tenth doctor#ten x reader#ten x you#ten x y/n#ten#10th doctor#10th doctor x reader#10th doctor x you#10th doctor x y/n#david tennant#doctor who fanfiction#mental health#fluff#the doctor x you#the doctor x reader#the doctor#the doctor x y/n
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Hi hi hi how have you been so uh when ya have a chance could ya do a eddie x reader x gareth hurt/comfort like jason beats the shit out of those two and y/n patches them up or smut whatever you want tbh I just want a eddie x reader x gareth
Of course, sorry for the wait! Also, I hope it's okay that this isn't exactly as dirty as some of my other stuff. Papa Tumblr is mad at me for posting smut.😒
ST Eddie Munson x Reader x Gareth Emerson - Stupid Boys
Summary: You help patch the boys up after they defended your honor against Carver the Scoundrel.
Warnings: violence, fighting, injury, lime, make out, petting, groping, threesome, non-detailed sexual actions
"I said stop it!" you protested angrily, shoving Jason against a locker, much to his shock. "He's just a kid, and he didn't mean to do it, don't be such a dick!" You spat, pulling Dustin up by his back pack and dusting him off. "You okay?" you quickly asked, only to be stopped short by a harsh grip on your hair.
"I'm sorry," the bully mocked, his fist clenched painfully against your scalp. "Are you actually talking to me? Because I think you're using the wrong fucking tone for that."
You winced against and seethed out a rebuttal through touching teeth. "Yes I am, you douche." Before you could say more, your heart shattered as your gaze connected with the freshman's as he turned and dart down the hall, leaving you there to get yourself out of a mess that he started. Jason laughed darkly in your ear watching the boy turn tail, his grip now twisting. You whimpered, feeling strands of hair tear form your skin.
"Oh no, did your toothless little brat abandon you? Too bad." he jeered, turning around, and taking you with him, forcing you to stare at his belongings that scattered the floor, a result of Dustin running to fast in the hall and knockings the tormenter over in the process. "Luckily for you, I'm in a good mood today, so I'm gonna let you bend that little ass over and pick all my shit up. Then I'll let you go, got it?"
"Go to hell," you retorted, still straining against his grasp, and spat fat drops on his exposed school papers.
He faked a chuckle, finally tearing is fist away from you as harshly as he could, collecting a fist full of (H/C) locks. As you doubled over and cried out form the sudden pain, he grabbed your hair again to let you know that your actions had been irredeemable. "See, now, that wasn't -"
Suddenly, you were toppled to the ground, Jason's weight and then some pinning you to the linoleum tiles of the school hallway. When the initial shock from hitting the floor wore off, you began to hear voices all around you, and feel vibrations of steady movement against you. Looking up from underneath your attacker, you locked eyes with Dustin, worriedly reaching out to you. He came back.
You gave him your hand, and he struggled to pull you out from under, unbeknownst to you, was the weight of two nearly grown men. "Outta my way," you heard, as a pale figure took the boy's place in yanking you to safety. Before you could register, you were secure in the freckled arms of a friend, aching head resting against musky plaid. Inhaling you noticed notes of faint cigarette smoke and Downy fabric softener. Identifying the person from that simple aroma alone, you glanced up, finding yourself enveloped in the protective care that was Gareth's limbs.
However, he wasn't looking back at you, but sternly away, at the scene unfolding before him. You met his distraction and your eyes bugged. There was your good friend, Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, gone to blows with Jason Carver. Eddie was currently on top of your bully, pounding at his face with both fists. You cringed at the thought of the damage that his rings might have been doing, probably more than what was deserved if you were being honest.
"Say you're fucking sorry, you piece of shit!" He shouted in the jock's face, his voice cracking with sheer adrenaline. The assault came to a halt to give the accused the chance for repentance, only for the time to be used unwisely. You hadn't noticed at the time, but Jeff stood behind Gareth as he crouched with you in his arms.
"I'm not apologizing to that little whore."
Suddenly, you were thrown to the floor again as as blur of red plaid and chestnut curls charged into battle. It seemed that the fight was as good as won, a victory going down in the Hellfire's books with both members wailing on the lone blonde. That is until the rest of the basket ball team arrived.
You looked on in guilty horror as your champions were overtaken by jocks much more athletics than themselves. Nobody else from your side dared to intervene, though you wanted so badly for it to stop. You matched stare with Lucas, the team's newest member, looking shameful, but not enough to stand with his club. Eventually, someone had had the insight to go get the attention of a teacher, most likely Dustin once again.
Once the fight was broken up, everyone took their turn with the principal, receiving unequal punishments according to their social status. It wasn't fair but, Jason and his boys couldn't possibly serve the temporary suspension that you and your friends were to. They had a game on Friday.
-----
You sighed, filling bags of ice, wrapping them in rags and handing one to each boy as they both sat on your couch. You yourself held one to the back of your head, plopping down between then. "You didn't have to do that, you know." you mutter, looking down at Eddie's bruised knuckles as they rested against your thigh.
"Like hell we didn't." Said man piped up. "You really think we would just let him hurt you like that?" He looked at you accusingly, while Gareth simply looked away, pretending that the dated china in your mother's old hutch was particularly interesting today. Eddie gripped your knee, looking deeply into your eyes, one hand still hold the ice pack to his temple. "No way some prick like that is gonna lay a finger you our girl." You blushed at that. Though you knew he hadn't intended it the way you wished, it still felt nice.
At this time, you glanced at Gareth, still studying the painted trim of your mother's plates, resting your hand on his thigh. "Are you feeling okay?" you asked softly, Eddie repeating you with slightly different terms. The junior nodded slowly, not wanting to further upset his headache, resting his chin on his hand, still askance. "What's wrong?" you pressed, brows knit. "Does it still hurt? I can get some medicine, or some more bandages if I-"
"I just can't get what he called you out of my mind." he replied bluntly, gaze neglecting you. Your shoulders slumped, and you playfully rolled your eyes, nudging him.
"It's okay, man. I've been called much worse than a whore." you comforted, listing things you been referred to as that you see as more offensive.
"That isn't the point." he rebuffed. "You're not any of those things. And him calling you a whore for helping your friend makes no sense, he just said it to hurt your feelings and it's not right. Even while Eddie was beating the shit out of him he was still trying to get under your skin." he rambled, his chest rising and falling more rapidly now.
"It's okay, dude." Eddie soothed. "We got him, that's all that matters."
"And we got our asses kicked." Gareth added, letting his head fall back onto the wall of the sofa.
"We protected the honor of Lady (Y/N), and our party grows healthier with her grace." the senior joked, voice deep and announcing, arms waving in the air with grandeur. You giggled at his reference to your character's name in the current Hellfire campaign. "And it was an honor to fight alongside Gareth the Great."
The aforementioned teen laughed, successfully cheered up, and you and Eddie joined in. As your fits of giggles died down, you noticed a small trail of dried blood seeping from your older friend's head, concerning you. "Oh no, Eddie," you gasped, holding his jaw in one hand and pulling and his skin with the others, examining the trail, trying to triangulate the wound. "I guess I missed one, your head's bleeding."
"Oh no, not the alcohol again!" he whined as you got up and ran to the bathroom. While you were gone, he grumbled little complaints with his friend agreed with until you came back with a cotton ball and a bandaid.
You planted yourself in from of him, legs between his and hoisted his chin up to look at you, before tilting it to access the wound. As you zeroed in with your cotton ball, Eddie couldn't help but blush a bit at your closeness, finding the way your tongue poked out when you were focus too cute to be good. That fondness changed when he felt the sting of the alcohol you'd soaked the ball with hitting the side of his head.
"Ah, fuck, god damnit!" he cried, dramatically falling over, hiding himself from you under a throw pillow. You rolled your eyes at him, before trashing it. What a baby. Pivoting, you headed back to the bathroom to get some more ibuprofen to shut him up. His gaze tracking you, Gareth decided to follow you, excusing himself on the grounds that he needed to pee.
-----
Eddie shook his leg impatiently, wondering what the hell was taking you both so long. Surely you can't both be in the bathroom at the same time, especially for such an outrageous amount of time. He stood up with an annoyed sigh, rounding the corner to check on you. "Damn, (Y/N), did you decide he needed you to hold his dick to piss-" he joked, freezing as he stood at the end of the hallway. There was his darling you, pressed against the wall, lips occupied by that of his best friend. Gareth's fingers were tangled in your hair, and vice versa, grabbing at whatever you could of one another. "Dude..."
Silently, Eddie backed away in disbelief, unsure of what to say or how to feel. Gareth was all too aware of his feelings for you, and they had both sworn off pursuing you, it was bro-code. Meanwhile, your eyes shot open, hearing an otherwise unnoticed creak of the floorboards. Suddenly, you broke away from the junior, eyes still hazy from the last few minutes. "Eddie, wait!" you called as he walked away with a thousand yard stare.
It was at this point that Gareth realized his mistake, how could he forget the code? He hadn't intended to kiss you, it just sort of happened! He bumped into you in the hallway and one thing just lead to another, it wasn't on purpose! "Dude, c'mon, I'm sorry." he apologized, following you both into the living room.
"No, fuck you, man!" Eddie snapped back pointing an accusing finger. "We made a pact!"
"I know, I know!" Gareth argued back, guilt tugging at his insides. "I didn't mean for it to happen!"
"Oh, what, so you just tripped and accidentally pinned her to the fucking wall?! And let me guess, you accidentally shoved your fucking tongue down her throat too, right?!"
"No, it's not like that, Ed! And even if it was, so what? You get all the girls you like, why can't I have one fucking person just because you like her too! News flash, jackass, obviously she liked having my tongue down her throat-"
"Enough, both of you!" you screamed, seething with their obvious objectification of you. "I am not a fucking award to be won, and if that's all you two see me as, then I never want to see either of you again!" You stood between them, fists clenched and hot tears bubbling up in your eyes.
"Princess, it's not like that," Eddie soothed, pushing his friend out of the way to comfort you.
"Don't 'Princess' me, Ed, I'm not an object!" you protested.
"We know your not, Sweets," Gareth came behind you to lovingly place his hands on your shoulders. "I'm sorry, it was a douchey thing to talk about you that way."
"Stop it with the stupid pet names!" you snapped, trying to wriggle out of the cage they'd locked you in. "I'm still mad at you and you can't just charm me out of it!" you held strong, recalling all the times the boys would flirt with you to get you to give them something they wanted. Whether it was writing a term paper for Eddie, or giving Gareth all your mash potatoes at lunch, you had always been putty in their hands.
"Maybe we've been looking at this the wrong way," The elder said, more looking pasted you then at you. "Maybe we don't have to fight over her."
"Maybe we can share," the younger agreed, chuckling a bit and trailing his fingertips up and down your arms. "I think I man live with that."
"Me too."
-----
You currently sat back on the couch, much the same as you had before, but this time, your body lay in Gareth's arms, lips crashing against his like waves on the shore, and Eddie laid between your legs, eating his fill. Soft moans and whimpers filled your living room, and your thanked your lucky stars your parents were out of town.
Your lips felt raw as the former broke away from them, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at you and whispering sweet nothings in your delicate ears. "Touch starve little one? That what you are? Does my Sweets like getting her little cunt eaten up?" You nodded shyly, burying your face against him, legs trembling under Eddie's ministrations.
Finally, after what felt like hours of sucking and licking in all of the most perfect spots, you felt your face begin to fuzz, and the knot in your bell snapped taught. Eddie reveled in the feeling of you shaking against his face, lewd ooze coating his jaw. "That's a good Princess, cum for me, baby." he praised against you.
After a moment you fell still with exhaustion, ignoring the feeling of the bodies around you shifting. You were awakened with the sensation of light patting on your face, and Gareth's smooth voice cooing:
"Don't fall asleep just yet, we've been wanting you for years and we're gonna make this last."
#gareth emerson x you#stranger things smut#eddie#eddie munson x reader x gareth emerson#stranger things#gareth stranger things#gareth x reader#gareth emerson#stranger things eddie#stranger things eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson angst#eddie munson smut
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WIP Wednesday day. Lots of fucking around and also black/grey this week.
I didn't knit the border repeat of my evenstar (Shawl 14) for a couple days there due to family gatherings so I just banged through a couple repeats last night and called it good enough. Which puts me at 12 repeats out of 56. I was right that it's already a little boring but each repeat takes me less than an hour so it's pretty easy to just. Knit one and move on.
I also finally got through the first half? of shawl 15's repeat. I'm entirely off pattern so I'm just kinda fucking around until I get low on yarn but I'm not entirely sure where the paper is I wrote down all my yarn weights on before so I can't really continue until I track that down. When I was actively working on it all the time I wasn't super happy with it but picking it up again, I really like it. I'm sure I'll hate it again within the hour but that's what happens every time I do any sort of colourwork.
Speaking of hating my colourwork, the weird super bulky knit skirt is. I can't tell still if I love it or hate it. I've had fun making it either way but man does it confuse my brain. I'm almost done with the actual knitting portion, I decided to add a lace edging around the bottom which was a mistaakeeee. I still think it looks ok? so i'm not going to remove it but every row takes Forever to knit. The edging pattern I started with is beautiful but 18 rows and I literally will never finish this if I do all of them (also I managed to totally fuck up the row i'm currently knitting and have no idea how or why but it's black yarn on super big needles I'm not gonna be able to fix it).
This skirt still absolutely 100% needs steam blocked tho and I don't have a place for that set up right now. Also other finishing work (sewing in the waist elastic that was thankfully on sale, I kinda wanna add some of my patches to it, I wanna embroider some on it). I think? I don't like it right now not because it's ugly. But because it takes up so much space on my desk. So the minor hatred will not go away for as long as I work on it.
Lastly is a different fuck around project. Knitting a large gauge sweater out of the world's stinkiest crochet cotton with intentionally distressed lace work. I finished the sleeve I was knitting and now started with the front body, which I've strangely had a lot more issues with (dropping stitches, tension issues, the crochet cotton hurting my hands when purling). I don't have much to say about this one tbh, I'm not looking forward to the short rows to shape the front neckline (the pattern I'm working off of has zero neckline shaping so I'm going to make it up) but it's mostly purling that has me down. I'm almost tempted to do part of the body in garter stitch or switch to norwegian purling but neither of those are attractive options for different reasons so I'll just suffer (and wait for my hands to heal all the way before picking it up again).
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The Terrifying Ordeal of Falling in Love with Leon Kennedy
CHAPTER 11
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader (female reader)
Series Warnings: Minor injuries, Leon teases reader a lot, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Drinking, Drinking followed by driving, DO NOT DO THAT THIS IS FICTION, Anxiety, Leon S. Kennedy has PTSD, Leon has an anxiety attack, Anxiety Attacks, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nightmares, Leon S. Kennedy has Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Probably incorrect medical talk, Strangulation in one tiny little scene, Reader's brother was a cop who was KIA, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Grief/Mourning, Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Arguing, Love Confessions, Looking for Alaska is mentioned, Inconvenient Love Confessions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Leon loves eating Pussy change my mind, Shower Makeout, romantic smut, Desperate Leon S. Kennedy, They are both desperate for each other tbh, They say I love you as they come, Scar Kissing, Enthusiastic Consent, Always pee after sex, UTI PREVENTION, POV First Person, No use of Y/N
Words: 2K
Masterlist
August 2004
You really know how to make me cry
When you give me those Ocean eyes
I’m scared
Never fallen from quite this high
Falling in your Ocean eyes, those Ocean eyes
-Ocean Eyes, Billie Eilish
The door closes with a slam, pulling my attention from the noodles I was cooking, the steam rising from the pot. I backstep, leaning far enough back that I can see Leon, standing by the front door, hand pressed against the wall with his left leg hiked up, pulling at the laces of his boot with the clumsy fingers of his other hand. After pulling on the strings for far longer than what is normal for the Leon S. Kennedy, I step into the room, turning the burner of the stove down to a low temp.
“Need help there, Superman?” I tease, arms crossing over my chest as I lean against the doorframe to the kitchen. He looks up, flushed pink cheeks and soft blonde hair falling into his light eyes, which I notice are dilated to hell. With a scoff, he drops his foot back down along with his focus, opting to just attempt to toe the boot off instead, which seems harder than he anticipated by the way he struggles, still gripping the wall for balance.
“Leon… Are you drunk?” The question rolls off my tongue as the boot flies off, followed by a quiet ‘yes!’ in victory. Then he realizes there is another boot to deal with, his head dropping in frustration before he shifts to attempt the same maneuver. “Leon?” I try again, and only then does he finally look back at me, pausing his movements, almost like he can only keep his attention one thing at a time.
“Yeah?” Pink cheeks. Dilated eyes. Clumsy movements.
“Are you drunk?” Leon scoffs, head rolling to the side before he returns eye contact.
“No,” he assures, and then - almost as if this was some comedy movie - he gets the other boot off with a harsh tug, stumbling sideways at the release of his foot before quickly regaining his balance, without the assistance of the wall this time. Blue eyes find mine, and I can practically watch as his cheeks burn bright red. “I may be a little drunk.” I laugh, head thrown back as I attempt to catch my breath. He is frowning at me when I finally return my gaze to him. “What’s so funny?”
“The Leon Kennedy? Drunk? I didn’t even know you could get drunk anymore.” A thought enters my mind, instantly draining the humor from my face. “Wait, you didn’t drive your bike like that, right?” He chuckles while removing his jacket, placing it on the coat hanger before looking back at me, only to find my scowling expression. He sighs dramatically.
“No, sweetheart. Chris drove, I promise.” Relief floods my system, hand coming up to rest against my chest, dropping myself to sit on the couch, feet still resting on the wooden floors. The weight of the couch shifts, and I glance over to see that the agent has dropped himself onto the couch next to me, posture comfortable as he slumps against the back of the sofa.
He got back home from Spain a week ago. We got back home a week ago. Unsurprisingly, it’s taken him longer than usual to readjust, heart hammering even when someone tromps through the hallway. The first night back, it took all of 45 minutes before my door creaked open and I felt his comforting weight dip the bed as he pressed himself to my back, arms winding around my waist in a comforting embrace. Hands landing over his arms, squeezing in silent reassurance. He’s been there every night since. Friends don’t do this kind of shit… Do they?
His hands around my hips bring me back to the moment, tugging me closer to his body in some attempt at snuggling.
“Alright, ocean eyes, time for bed,” I tease, patting his shoulder before standing and offering my small hands to him. Said ocean blue eyes look at them for a moment, weighing his options before he reaches forward. Only he doesn’t grab them. His arms wrap around my waist and tug, pulling me onto his lap until I’m straddling him. Like that day in the car. I try to stand, pulling him along, but there’s no way I can win in a strength contest against Leon, even when he’s as drunk as he is. My legs are on either side of his thighs, his arms wrapped securely around my ribs, holding me close. His nose runs along my collarbone in tickling touches. No no no no.
“Please.” It’s a quiet, almost broken sound, and I feel my heart clench. “Hold me like you did that day in the car.” And here I thought he’d forgotten about it.
“After the grocery store?” I question, fingers threading through his hair as his forehead presses into my sternum before nodding. “Leon, what’s-”
“I care about you so fucking much,” he whispers, and I almost can’t make it out given that the words were spoken directly to my heart as if saying them there would make them sink in faster.
“Lee-”
“Let me finish. Please?” I agree, nodding my head, and before I can stop myself, I press a kiss to the top of his head, his shampoo scent filling my senses. “When I was in Spain, one of the BO-… One of the bad guys… He showed me a picture of you… It wasn’t like they had taken it, but…” He was scared. “It was enough for me to know that they knew who you were. I was worried they would kill you… Or worse…” His voice is shaking, arms tightening around me almost enough to force a gasp from my lungs. I don’t have the heart to ask him what he means by ‘or worse’. “I never thought I’d be able to care about someone again, not after everything that happened, but then…” He pauses, just long enough for me to wonder if he had fallen asleep right here and now.
“Then what?”
“Then I found you.” We’re silent for a long moment, him because I presume he’s finished speaking, and me because I am attempting to process his words as they circle around my mind, bumping into the sides violently.
“I care about you too, Leon,” I mumble, forearms wrapping around his head in some kind of strange hug. He shakes his head, his temples pressing against my biceps in disagreement.
“It’s not the same.” Finally pulling back, my fingers find the underside of his jaw, lightly pressing up until he’s looking at me, dilated blues staring with the intensity of the moment. He presses his nose forward, just enough that they barely brush.
“How is it not the same? You care about me and I care about you.” His eyes shine with what can only be sadness. He smiles. A fake, almost too-perfect smile as his head shakes again, our noses bumping in a mock eskimo kiss.
“It’s just not, sweetheart.” He knows. He knows how I feel about him. He just won’t say anything cause he’s too nice.
“Maybe we should get you to bed, yeah?” I place a small kiss on the crown of his head before climbing off his lap and offering my hands to him again, which thankfully, he grips tenderly before standing. Leon allows - and I do mean allows, given his stature in comparison to mine - me to pull him out of the living room and down the hall. We pass my bedroom door before he stops, abruptly halting my motions in their tracks. “Leon, what-” Then he’s using his strength, yanking me forward, back into his arms, and then into my room.
“I sleep better next to you,” he admits, and having released my hands, he stands in the middle of the darkened room, hands hanging limply at his sides, features looking like that of a kicked puppy. “I guess I should ask.”
“Leon, it’s fi-”
“Can I sleep in here with you? Please? Whenever I wake up from nightmares, it’s comforting to see you right there.” He trails off, and I reach for him, pulling him into a hug, which he gladly returns. “I can feel you breathing, the warmth of your skin, hear your heartbeat… It reminds me that you’re alive.” His breath brushes against my ear and my whole body shivers, and for the first time, I know he felt it because he chuckles.
“Of course, you can.” The words are mumbled into his shoulder before I pull back from the hug and turn toward the door. “Which sweatpants do you wa-”
Holy fuck. His black tee shirt is already off, discarded onto the floor as he reaches for the button on his jeans. I move to stop him but it’s a bit too late, jeans yanked down to reveal a pair of light gray boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination. I look away, staring intently at the beige color of my bedroom walls. Don’t think about his penis. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
“You gonna come to bed?” His words draw my attention, and by the time I lock eyes with him, he’s in bed, sheets pulled up over the sizable bulge. Which I’m not thinking about. Not at all. The scene is so domestic, my heart fluttering at his phrasing, almost like he’s… Stop. He doesn’t see you like that.
“Yeah, just let me change into some sleep shorts.” Grabbing a pair of shorts from the floor, I head toward the door.
“You can change in here. I won’t look.” He buries his face in his hands like a child, and I chuckle before quickly changing, taking care to also slip my bra off without removing my… Well, Leon’s shirt. Hopping into bed, easily climbing over him as he looks up at me with stars in those blues. Him pulling me into himself is a familiar feeling, but this time he faces me. Noses inches apart as our heads rest on our pillows. My pillows, I correct. When did my bed suddenly become ours? The pillows ours? His side of the bed and mine? I’m ripped from my thoughts as he whispers, breath puffing out and I can smell the whiskey. Cinnamon whiskey. “It terrifies me.”
“What does?” I whisper back, afraid to break the quiet of the room around us for fear of breaking the moment.
“How much I care about you.”
“Leon, I really care about you too.” It’s as if he doesn’t hear me, but his eyes glare right at me, almost through me.
“You mean so much to me.” The look he’s giving me, it sends tingles down my spine, and with a glance of his eyes downward, locking on my lips, I’m almost brave enough. Almost confident enough. It wouldn’t be hard, leaning in. His face moves forward, and my whole body freezes, preparing for the taste of him I’ve only gotten in a dream, but then his face is buried in my neck. Releasing a shaky breath, I swear I feel him inhale before his arms tighten. “Please don’t leave me. Not like everyone else.” I feel tears spring into my eyes as I return his hug in reassurance, my lips grazing his ear accidentally. He shivers.
“Superman, I’m not going any-”
“I can’t be alone again.” The healer in me wishes I could take every ounce of hurt from him and throw it out into the rain, stomp on it until it is little more than dust, and watch it blow away. He doesn’t deserve what’s happened to him.
“I’m not leaving you, Leon.” Reaching my hand back to grip his, I bring it forward, pressing it to my cheek before I whisper, “I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.” He nods, and within minutes he’s quietly snoring into my neck, breath tickling my collarbone. “You won’t ever be alone, Leon. I promise.”
Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv
Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088
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that person with the ABO true mates thing has the right idea tbh. on a similar note, imagine instead dream is the 3rd child of some important medieval noble family. he's resigned to live a life of boring diplomacy and living in his father's shadow and probably being married off for some political alliance (he is the 2nd son but he's also the 3rd child and imo death is generally a lot more well prepared for anything he might have thrown his way as the "spare" but we already knew that)
but one day dream and some of his family are in the town square, perhaps returning from a long journey. they maybe were off trying to negotiate a deal for dream's hand in marriage, but dream was so miserable about it that the talks were useless and everyones coming home upset. theres a lot of people around and its generally very busy, so it isn't very surprising that dream brushes shoulders with some stranger, but before he gets the chance to tell him off for it since he is still a bratty little prince, he gets thrown into a full blown heat. like, falls to the ground, clawing to get his clothes off because theyre too much, panting because he cant catch his breath type. (i personally am a huge sucker for bottom dream regardless of whether he doms or not, but after seeing an ask about househusband/alpha!hob i really cant get the idea of dom bottom omega dream and service top submissive alpha hob out of my head)
anyway, he gets back home just fine to wait out his heat, and as soon as he's done he's hell bent on finding whoever it was that sent him into that. night would probably want him to go find whoever it was (thinking of night in overture making a whole pocket dimension for dream and a lover), but maybe time would want to still get a political alliance out of this. he ends up doing some cinderella type thing to find hob back and he's so in love he conveniently ignores that hob is a mercenary/thief/sword for hire/bounty hunter/whatever and has probably most definitely also stolen from dreams family before. besides, who cares about a little bit of money when you can order your new alpha mate to fuck you halfway to hell and back? all im gonna say is they have NOTHING to worry about when it comes to heirs
-🖋
I see submissive alpha hob? I go feral. Literally this whole thing is GOLD.
I’m imagining after his heat, Dream uses his status (maybe with Night’s help if she’s in a good mood) to summon all the unmated alphas in town to his family’s home, and has them all walk past him while he smells every single one. Hob literally only showed up for the opportunity to steal some stuff from the place, so imagine his shock when little lordling Dream pounces on him and declares that they are true mates!! Hob obviously isn’t mad about it because Dream is the prettiest little darling he’s ever seen… he’s also an absolute terror, spends half his time snarling and the other half sulking. Hob loves it, loves him within about an hour (especially when Dream drags him off and takes his knot in a store cupboard - they’re not even married! the scandal is delicious!).
Dream is insatiable, but Hob is more than able to keep up. Hob doesn’t give a shit about manners or being respectable, and he’ll gladly join Dream in skipping out on diplomatic dinners and other dull things. The “honeymoon phase” doesn’t show any sign of stopping after a year of being mated - Dream rarely shows his face outside of their bedroom before noon, because he’s busy. It’s a good thing that Hob has access to high quality food now, because otherwise he’d be dropping a lot of weight with all the strenuous activity Dream expects from him.
Dream’s family aren’t best pleased with the match, but even they can’t stand in the way of true mates, and Dream is only the third child so it isn’t the end of the world. At least Hob keeps Dream out of trouble and full of pups.
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more shared custody au hehe (part 3)
no i didn't forget about this au
part 1
gavin works as a nurse!! he's really good with people and especially old people at the hospital love him. a lot of them try to set him up with their kids/grandkids but they also just enjoy chewing his ear off while he washes them and stuff. he just puts people at ease :)
he's lowkey overworking himself, taking on extra shifts and jumping in for his coworkers when he can. vega doesn't like to admit it but he does get worried sometimes, especially after gavin takes on more responsibilities with school events
vega is a chef! he used to work at a really high end restaurant but he got sick of the attitude everyone there had. employers were arrogant and looked down on the staff, same with most of the customers. even though he didn't have much direct contact with customers, he still noticed how his coworkers were treated and it made him so unbelievably angry
now he works at a small family owned restaurant and he really enjoys working there
the family in question are the greers (stella try not to make everything about the shaw pack challenge FAILED), marie took it over from her parents. tank, david and asher have all worked there part time at some point and still help out on busy days if they can.
milo works there full time. he does a bit of everything; waiting, cooking, cleaning, delivering, whatever needs to be done. he also takes on security gigs from david from time to time
marie's restaurant is the type of well hidden secret that the locals try to gatekeep from tourists lol
vega loves working there so much and he's gotten really attached to the entire shaw pack but specifically marie like, he would kill for her. he tries to hide it but they all know, it's an unspoken rule to act like they don't. marie ignores this rule.
this goes without saying but of course vega is amazing at cooking. gavin always has caelum bring home a container with leftovers.
as much as caelum loves vega's amazing cooking, when asked what he wants for dinner he ALWAYS asks for dino chicken nuggets and it lowkey kills vega
vega comes over to gavin's place to meal prep when he can under the guise of making sure that caelum gets proper meals but he really does it to take some weight off of gavin's shoulders (again, he worries about gavin)
gavin isn't the best cook, he knows how to make a few basic meals and they don't taste bad but they're not amazing either. but they have that home made charm, it's like you can taste how much effort and love he puts into cooking meals for his loved ones
to make up for his average cooking skills he actually gets pretty good at baking after all those bake sales! when he drops caelum off at vega's place he also drops off a bunch of baked treats for vega specifically, to repay him for meal prepping.
vega doesn't like most sweet things so gavin mostly makes savory stuff for him
for vega's and pet's first proper date (because vega doesn't accept grabbing coffee together can be considered a proper date), he cooked pet their favourite childhood meal
pet teared up a little from the thoughtfulness and vega almost had a heart attack
huxley is a tattoo artist and helps coach the local highschool's football team in his free time
him and damien have matching tattoos that he designed (hnggg idk what yet but i'll come up with something lol also open for ideas :))
huxley has SO MANY tattoos, including, but not limited to: a frog on a skateboard, a bunch of dandelions, "love you" (twice, in both of his moms' handwriting), a birtday cake, a little ghost dude, damien's birth date and a bunch of lemons
caelum likes to colour huxley's tattoos in when he and damien babysit
i'm not set yet on what damien does for a living, i can see him being a professional photographer tbh but he also seems like somebody who'd have a regular office job? ahhhh i don't know
#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redacted huxley#redacted gavin#redacted vega#redacted caelum#shared custody au#stella's ideas
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This was posted earlier today. I have the updated article on my tumblr page. I think I’m ok with it if it happens. I think it heightens the emotions between Belly and Conrad. 🤔Thoughts?
Thank you so much (and shout out to the anons who sent me links. I'm gonna respond to all of y'all collectively with this one).
Honestly, at first my jaw was on the floor and I was just sitting there silently in shock. And I was kinda mad and upset. I just feel like they did this same exact thing with TATBILB and I just don't understand why she would spend so much time writing the characters a certain way and building such a beautiful little world with such respectful men and then changing such a big part of a characters beliefs and the way they were written. I know people are saying "JH is making it more sex positive and bringing the story into 2023" but tbh I don't think having a boundary and wanting to wait for the right moment (bc Belly DOES want to have sex (with both brothers at different points I'd argue) and she thinks about it in the books. she just wanted it to be special and the right moment). I don't think there's anything wrong with showing that and showing boys who respect the boundary and don't push it or force it. I think that is the most healthy thing you could show. Even though Jere has his flaws and gets annoyed about Belly not having sex with him, he doesn't really push her on it, he just respects the boundary and is silently mad about it. In hs my best friend had a boyfriend who was SUPER pushy, she was honest with him and kept telling him "no, i'm not ready yet" and he just kept pushing her about it, and eventually they broke up and she realized how awful that behavior (among other red flag behavior from him) was. I just feel like the message being sent to young girls today is not a good one and I was actually kind of excited to see a show that would portray sex in a different light. I clowned myself because I thought since JH is the showrunner, she'd keep the important things from the books. But I guess this is a battle we are losing lol. That Christmas scene was so so good in the book, and the way Conrad is with Belly, how he recognizes the importance and wants it to be special for her...I was really looking forward to that.
After much consideration, I think I'm actually okay with it, as long as it's Conrad. And I have a feeling it is going to be Conrad, in Cousins in December. That's kind of the only way it would make sense is if it happens there. Also the fact that they bring up the fact that she loses her virginity immediately following "Tung...wanted to ensure that key moments from the second book...carried the same weight and resonance when adapted for the screen". The first thing that popped into my head after I read that was the Christmas in Cousins scene, because I felt like that whole thing resonated heavily in the book and it was really important. Also if I'm right and it is Conrad in Cousins, it actually adds more flames to the fire and more angst to the 3rd book storyline, because if she doesn't sleep with Jere but he finds out somehow that she did sleep with Conrad, and then finds out she ended up alone with him in Cousins again and didn't tell him? Oh that will be GOLD. Jere sleeping with the sorority sister could still carry the same amount weight. Just because the audience knows she lost her virginity to Conrad doesn't mean any of the other characters are going to know. And Conrad strikes me as a guy who wouldn't kiss and tell (and especially his own jealous little brother and Belly's older brother lol). I think they could 100% pull off the rest of the plot and still have her give herself fully to Conrad. But I can see the secret coming out to Jeremiah in the heat of an argument and all hell breaking loose. I think it'll be fine. It has to be lol
also who's idea was it to drop this spoiler-ish bomb on us two days before the start of the season?? I just wanna talk
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Observations from Element episode 1:
Eichi and Natsume's convo from the beginning is just repurposed from Element's epilogue but it still gives my brain something to chew on. The antagonism between them is really amusing. I may have screamed when Tsumugi walked in.
I now come to realise that Enstars dialogue comes off as noticeably more unhinged when spoken aloud.
Seeing how plain the Yumenosaki mob students look I think Hiyori calling Tsumugi "mob character-kun" is more than a little harsh.
Ishikawa's voice for Tsumugi has become more emotive over the years but the difference is really noticeable here. Not that its a bad thing; doubling down on the excessive, forced cheeriness was the right call for 2nd year Tsumugi imo. I can't wait till we get to hear some of his signature lines, personally looking forward to "no matter what people chat about the brain has the same chemical reaction"
Tsumugi's excitement over Eichi saying they're friends was an addition and I was not emotionally prepared for tbh.
This was cut in the 2019 anime too iirc but I was a little sad that Tsumugi's "I'm curious about the kid named Sakasaki" spiel was cut. I can live with it but I think Tsumugi being shown to have an interest in Natsume before they actually meet again gives their childhood connection more weight.
The book Wataru is reading is called 『夏の国』 (Summer Country), if this is a real book I couldn't find it. Something perhaps of note is that the kanji for summer (夏) is in Natsume's name (夏目)
I really dig the vibes of the secret room, it seems so chill.
Natsume going on about the state of Yumenosaki or whatever the fuck and Wataru responding with "hey Natsume-kun you'd look really cute in girl's clothes" made me giggle. I assume this adaptation will give more attention to Natsume's insecurities about not being taken seriously? Considering that its also a surprisingly well-chosen first interaction between Natsume and another Oddball.
The Faust name-drop almost gave me a heart-attack. I hadn't even considered that Rocket Start would be adapted at all. (I didn't catch a lick of what Wataru said so I didn't notice it was Rocket Start until right then). Apparently HappyEle requested for certain things to be included, makes me wonder if Natsume comparing Wataru to Faust was one of those...
Seeing the scene where Tsumugi finds the secret room from Natsume's POV means that Tsumugi's line where he's like "zomg what if there are students doing drugs down there?!?! 0-0" had no chance of being included (rip). Which is a shame because its the second funniet thing in all of Element. The funniest is Eichi's Marie Antoinette kinnie mother.
I had a good time :)
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if you would like, could you share a fun fact or something interesting about one of your already-written stories and one about a wip?☺️
Wow ok this got a little long sorry lol. Putting it under a cut. Thank you for asking!!
"You okay miss?"
Fun fact: it's been 8 months and I'm still overthinking these lines from Two Body Problem.
She vaguely registers a voice, an odd wavering quality to it as if she's listening from under water. A hand drops onto her shoulder and she strikes out, unthinking, her fist colliding with the bony point of someone's elbow as she shoots to her feet.
"Get off! Don't touch me!"
"Whoa, hey, lady, I'm just trying to help," the guy says, hands raised in surrender. He's uninjured, thank the Spirits, and she turns her back toward him–but not before noticing how he squints in suspicion.
So on one hand, Korra's been bending since she was a baby, so wouldn't it make more sense for her to instinctively strike out with an element, rather than a bare fist?
But on the other hand, her relationship to bending has changed a lot by this point in the story. She doesn't want people knowing she's the Avatar, so bending anything other than earth would've been a dead giveaway. And not only is she no longer finding joy in bending like she used to, she's actively using to hurt herself
Back to the first hand. If she's using it to hurt herself, then bending at & injuring somebody who was just trying to help would've added another juicy layer to the self-loathing she was already dealing with, and would've said something about the ways we sometimes unintentionally hurt others when we're in pain ourselves.
Back to hand number two. Within the scope of the fic, that extra layer of self-loathing felt like too much to tackle, especially since I was trying to skate so close to canon and was (still am. tbh.) so inexperienced as a writer. And at the end of the day....I just didn't want her to have to carry that weight on top of everything else.
In conclusion, I need to turn my brain off and smoke a big fat blunt. It is what it is, the fic is done, it's posted, Korra punched a guy's arm instead of frying him, and I just have to live with not knowing whether or not that bothered readers lmao.
—
Let's talk about a wip!!! So I think....and I'm not sure because—as the above paragraphs so nicely illustrate—I'm terrible at making decisions, but I THINK...Vibrator Fic will be my first one written solely from Asami's POV? We'll see. Originally I wanted to do an alternating POV thing similar to Two Body Problem, but it's been feeling kind of clunky and disjointed. And I think Asami deserves a turn😌
I'm also waiting for a new OC to make herself known to me, hilarious as it would be for Ming to suddenly start working at Future Industries....she WOULD kill it as like a car crash safety tester actually now that I think of it...hmm. Maybe I just do whatever the fuck I want.
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