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onlyseokmins · 11 months

Text

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow — but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression.

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you."

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?"

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…"

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows?

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs.

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression.

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him.

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together.

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you.

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick!

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man.

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!"

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now.

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips.

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure.

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it.

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?"

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!"

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier.

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly?

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in.

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood.

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore.

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care.

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future.

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth.

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you.

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall.

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will."

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face.

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt.

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight.

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face.

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it.

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material.

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle.

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy."

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate.

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips.

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength.

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!"

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it.

You're honestly a little offended.

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock.

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot.

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible.

"Good thing I'm flexible."

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut."

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — "

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall.

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue.

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core.

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal.

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you.

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays.

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring.

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion.

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter. After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

#ez.creates #lee chan smut #svthub #svt smut #seventeen smut #dino smut #kpop smut #smut #nana 🦕#ez.mootz #1k 🌟#2k 🎇#svt.smut #3k 🎆

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reiderwriter · 5 months

Note

May I please request a fic where Spencer finds out about the new female team member’s love for gaming by seeing her play her Nintendo Switch on the jet? Bonus if he sees her struggling to beat something like Five Nights At Freddy’s or Catherine Full Body and he helps her out much to her shock

A/N: Thanks for requesting! I'm not much of a gamer myself, so it took a while to figure out what I should write. I went with FNAF because I’ve literally been held hostage by that Josh Hutcherson Whistle tiktok for the last seven days, so I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: mild spoilers for FNAF 4 Night 8, fluff.

“What is that?” Spencer asked casually, glancing over at the screen from his seat on the jet.

For some reason, despite facing monsters in real life, you'd been addicted to horror games in your downtime. Apparently, it was better for you if the crazy murderers were actually sentient animatronics possessed by the ghost of murdered children.

“It's a Nintendo Switch. It's a video game.” You replied without looking at him, heart racing from the pressure of the level.

“Like pacman?”

“Yes, Spencer, like pacman.” You sighed in frustration, trying to avoid running into the animatronics running around the building your character was supposed to be guarding.

“Then why is the screen black,” he said, just as Mad Freddy snuck up on you in the game and you lost the level. You sighed, head falling back in defeat.

You'd been stuck on night 8 of FNAF 4 for at least a week now, but who could blame you? You had to play completely in the dark, and you were dealing with some of the worst animatronics, too.

You'd been so happy to discover 20202020 mode, and you'd passed night 7 easy enough and they were honestly pretty similar, but one week into consistently playing it in all of your downtime, and you were seconds away from sacrificing your switch to the animatronic gods.

“It's supposed to make it more challenging. I think it's just impossible.” You threw the switch down, making sure all your progress (or lack of it) was saved.

“Can I try?” Spencer curiously asked from beside you, smiling at the soft pout on your face.

“Are you sure? It's not exactly your style…?”

“Humor me.”

You passed him the switch, showed him the controls, and snuggled back against your seat, eager to catch some sleep now suddenly. You had just closed a long case, and you may as well try to sleep now before the pile of paperwork made that impossible.

If it was easy to fall asleep, it was impossible to drag yourself from sleep.

You'd felt the familiar movements of the jet jostle you side to side, but you also felt a warmth next to your body that was too comfortable to convince you to even crack an eye open.

After a week on the case, plus a week trying to solve the game level, you really hadn't slept soundly in some time.

So when someone shook your shoulders, you simply ignored the motion again and cuddled closer to the arm and chest you'd wrapped yourself around.

Until you realised that the arm and chest had to belong to a person. And the only person that could be was Spencer Reid.

“It's okay, I'll wake her up, you guys go ahead.” You heard him say, with a few muffled voices agreeing.

You decided to just play dead as you heard the shuffling sounds of the rest of the team climbing off the jet. At which point you just happened to stretch yourself naturally out of your peaceful sleep.

“Spencer?” You yawned, trying to sound confused. “Did we arrive?”

You disentangled yourself from his body, realising that in facing him, your faces had hovered centimetres apart from one another. His breathing was calm, but you could feel his heart beating hard as you pulled away from him, mind racing at the not so innocent touches he traced down your skin as he let you go.

“Yeah, the team got off already. We should probably head out, too, before the cabin crew comes through to reset.”

You stood yourself up and grabbed your things, including your switch, now packed carefully into its carry case.

“So, you gave up as well, huh?” You laughed at the obvious sign of Spencer's white flag.

“What do you mean?” He said, grabbing his own bags now he was free from your grasp.

“The game? It was hard, right?” You smiled at him as he collected himself and turned back to you, pausing slightly.

“I finished the game.”

“What?” You whirled around on him, voice breaking through your lips before you could control it.

“I finished the game. I was just watching the credits when you… made yourself comfortable.”

You felt embarrassment spread through your body but pushed it down to make space for the sheer disbelief that known technophobe Spencer Reid had completed the video game you'd been struggling with for the past week.

“How?” was the only word that would leave your mouth as you froze in the aisle.

“There was a pattern to it. I realised if I went between the left door, the bed, and the right door, the fox thing-”

“Nightmare Foxy.”

“Right, Nightmare Foxy wouldn't come out of the closet. And then the others wouldn't pop up until 4am, and after that, it was pretty easy to get through.”

“Oh my god.” You stood in awe, blocking the aisle and forcing Spencer to stop next to you as well.

“You have to show me how. Please, Spencer, I need to see it.”

You hadn't realised your hand had crept up to grab his sleeve, pushing closer to him slightly.

“Are you free this weekend?” He whispered back at you as you realised that the space between you was miniscule. You could only nod your confirmation enthusiastically.

“Then it's a date.” He whispered again, pushing past you and letting himself off the jet.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #fnaf

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h-c-u · 1 year

Text

Uncertainty

Summary: You're a 3rd driver for the Mercedes team, in a secret relationship with the team principal and you fill in for Lewis during the race. The car malfunctions, you completely lose control over the steering and can't avoid crashing. And it's bad.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!driver!reader

W/C: 6.1k

Rating: M. Car crash, talk about injuries and surgeries.

TWs: Car crash, near death injuries

A/N: I swear to gods, my mood when it comes to writing changes so quickly -,- It's dark, sad, and heavy. Also - like 90% of the fic is happening when the reader is in surgery, but the idea just dug it's claws into my brain and didn't want to let go.

Masterlist | List of tags

- Bono, something's wrong with the steering, there is a slight delay in response, and I'm unable to predict how much I should correct. - you were honestly getting scared. You didn't want to lose the 5th position, especially this late in the race. You knew yourself well enough that you could get at least 3rd before the end, but not with a car that behaved like that.

- I'm running the diagnostic now to see if we'll be able to do something about it remo... FUCK. CRASH. Be careful. - you instantly felt cold, but it wasn't your first time in a dangerous situation. When Bono told you about the crash, you hadn't seen it just yet, because it was hidden behind a turn, and as soon as you turned...

- Breaks are not working. And I completely lost control over the steering. - everything was happening in slow motion, and you couldn't do anything. There was no fancy "eject" button like in a James Bond movie; you were able to just watch and brace for impact. - Bono. I'm going to crash into them. Don't let me die. - you whispered, tears very slowly gathering in your eyes under the helmet.

You didn't say another word. You didn't swear, you didn't scream. You knew what was about to happen and somehow you managed to remain calm. You just fastened the straps holding you to the seat even more and held your arms close to your chest.

You heard people screaming over the comms, familiar voices full of panic and desperation but the one voice you were hoping to hear... wasn't there. So whatever others were saying didn't matter.

And then you were flying. The nose of your car wedged under someone else, and it sent you into a barrel on the track. You closed your eyes, not to get nauseous, but it was a small comfort, especially when the car turned to its side and continued to barrel toward the wall. How you were able to stay conscious for so long - you weren't sure, but then suddenly... there was nothing.

- TOTO, NO! YOU CAN'T GO THERE! THERE IS PROTOCOL!

- FUCK PROTOCOL!!! - he was trying his best to get from Bono's and Ricardo's strong arms, but they held him steady and didn't let him run out of the garage.

- Medics and the crew are already at the scene. She will be in the ambulance before you get to that part of the track. - James stepped in front of the man, blocking his way, and put his hand on his boss's chest stopping him from moving any further. No one ever saw Toto this distressed. Sure, he could get angry, but this... This was different. - Calm down and think.

- I... I can't. - his shoulders slumped and even though he wasn't trashing and trying to get out anymore, his thoughts were galloping at the speed of light, running through every possible scenario. - I just can't... - Bono and Ric loosened their grip on his body and exchanged a worried look with the technical director. - I don't know what to do... - he admitted, his voice completely broken.

- We're gonna get to the hospital and we'll go from there. - James realized it was his turn to think about everything, and even though he didn't completely understand why Toto reacted this way - he wanted to help in whatever way he could. All of the people in the garage were shaken up, but this... This was new. Toto was oozing fear and desperation from everywhere. His posture, his voice, the frantic look in his eyes... - Toto. - the technical director wasn't sure if his words even reached his friend, but Wolff finally nodded slowly. - Yeah...? - he made sure.

- Yeah. Hospital. Let's go. - he whispered eventually. He was in no condition to drive, so he let his friend do that. He didn't take his eyes from the view behind the window once, even though he was seeing none of what they were passing. He dug his nails into his knees, bit his lower lip until he drew blood, and tried his best not to break down completely. Not before he knew if you were dead or alive.

When they arrived at the hospital, Toto didn't even wait for James to park properly, he was out of the car as soon as they reached the entrance. He run into the emergency room and quickly located the admission desk, but before he said anything, he took one last, deep breath.

- Hello, my name is Toto Wolff. I'm the emergency contact for Y/n Y/l/n. I would like to know in what condition she's in. - his voice was surprisingly calm. Even in such a state, he knew that whatever happened wasn't the nurses' fault and he didn't want to take out whatever he felt on them.

- I have to confirm your identity first. Can I see your ID? - the old nurse asked, but she was already typing something on the keyboard. Toto frantically patted his pockets in search of a wallet, momentarily mortified, because he got afraid that he left it in his bag, in the garage, but James came to his rescue with said wallet. He quickly fished out his ID and presented it to the nurse.

- She was admitted about 10 minutes ago and is being prepped for the surgery. She already had a head CT, but there are no results yet. There is also no information about planned procedures. - she explained with a soft tone, even though the news she was sharing wasn't exactly... good.

- What does it mean...? - Toto asked, fearing the worst.

- It means there was a head injury and she's unconscious. They don't know exactly what's wrong, but it's serious enough for emergency surgery with neuro, orthopedic and cardiothoracic surgeons. - she added, quieter. Sure, she could have omitted a few facts, but something told her that it would have the opposite effect on the man in front of her.

- Her... Her heart...? - if he weren’t holding the high counter in front of the admission desk, he would have slumped to the floor.

- Or lungs. - she clarified. - I'm sorry I can't give you better news... But she's in the best hands in the country. I will ask one of our interns to take you to a waiting room... - she waved at one of the young men, who was currently filling out papers, and quickly told him what to do. - And sir... - she added, just when they were about to leave the area. - It will be a long surgery, but the longer the wait, the better. It means that she's still fighting. - that was the first thing that gave him hope... You were still alive. Still fighting. And you weren't the type of person who easily gave up.

Toto Wolff was not a religious man. He honestly couldn't remember when was the last time he visited any place of worship, but now... Now he was going through every prayer he knew. He begged every god, every angel, every demon, every saint he could think of, not to let you die, and if that's necessary - to take him instead. Logically he knew that wasn't possible, but he was willing to try everything, no matter how stupid it seemed at the moment.

James left his side only once, to get some shitty coffee from the machine, but it was left untouched in between Toto's feet. He didn't know what to say, what to do... Other people came and went. The pit crew, engineers, other team principals, drivers... A few stayed. Mostly other drivers, and from the closer circle - James, Bono, George... And Lewis - without even saying a word was on a video call with Bono, feeling extremely guilty.

- Did... - George finally broke the silence. - Did anyone call her family? - he asked, and Toto just clenched his fists.

- She doesn't have one. - he whispered eventually. - She's an only child and went no-contact with her parents just as she started racing. - he added and the others looked at him trying to hide the surprise. - She will kill anyone who’ll let them know about anything even remotely connected to her life. So as far as things go... she doesn't have a family. - he ended in a harsher tone than he intended and almost immediately sighed.

He was still in the clothes he was wearing during the race... The track pass was tucked in the pocket on his chest, and the headphones were still around his neck, but he didn't even notice them, and no one in the room dared to say a word.

Just as three hours passed since they arrived, a young-looking woman called out your last name, and the four men immediately stood up, three with hope, one in fear, because it was much too quick for the surgery to end.

- Hello, my name is Alex and I'm one of the residents helping with your... - she stuttered for a second, realizing she didn't know the relationship between her patient and the men in the waiting room. - With Y/n's surgery. We were able to stop the bleeding in her brain and remove all the debris lodged there without major issues. The head of neurosurgery is currently reversing all four of the aneurysms, but compared to what we already did - it's the easiest thing. - she started explaining and everyone except Toto sighed with relief.

- What else...? - he asked, afraid of the further news. - Please tell us everything, no matter how small or ugly. I need to know... - he pleaded, and James put his hand on his boss’s shoulder. There was some hesitation on the young doctor’s face, but eventually, she continued.

- Eight of her ribs are broken... Two of them were lodged in her right lung and the cardiothoracic surgeon was able to remove one and is working on the second. One pierced her kidney, but due to the positioning... The lungs take priority. Her spinal cord is intact, but three of the lumbar vertebrae are fractured and we will have to realign them later. Her right femur is broken in six places, left in two and our head of ortho is currently working on that. Both of her tibias and feet are by some miracle intact. All the bones in her shoulders, arms, forearms, wrists, and hands are also free of any injuries. She didn't sustain any burns or lacerations because of the suit, which will help during her recovery. - with every word the relief disappeared more and more from the men's faces, and Toto's lips became almost invisible.

- Her heart...? - he asked eventually.

- Intact and strong. She's not on any assistance during the surgery, although we're ready for that if the need arises. She's a fighter. - the young doctor added with a gentle smile.

- You've mentioned her recovery... Does that mean...? - he was afraid to finish the question, especially when he saw Alex's face drop just a little.

- I... I shouldn't have said that. I can't promise you any type of outcome, especially with such severe injuries. - her voice softened. - We know what's wrong. We know how to fix it. And we will do our best to do so. Three of the best surgeons in the country are currently working together to keep her alive, so objectively - the chances of success are high. But I can't promise you that everything will be perfect. – Toto nodded, acknowledging the situation.

- Thank you for taking the time to explain everything to us. - he whispered, suddenly feeling weak in the knees. - Would it be too much if I asked for an update after every major stage? Doesn't matter if good or bad... I just need to know... - George was the one to notice how shaky Toto truly was, so he helped him sit down, so the man wouldn't fall over.

- It wouldn't be too much at all. I was planning to do so anyway... But it... - she started, but Wolff cut her off.

- It's gonna be a long surgery, I was told. I will be here. - his voice was stronger than his body, and the young doctor gave him one last smile before she turned around and went back to the operating block.

None of the men knew what to say, so they just sat in silence, trying to process what has happened.

There was a moment when George started quietly sobbing, and without even thinking, Toto put his arm around him and pulled him into a hug, trying to give him the comfort he so desperately needed himself. But the only person who could give it to him was currently lying cut open on the operating table.

- George, you officially got second place with 18 points... - James eventually broke the silence, but none of them were able to say after how long, because time had become something immeasurable. - Congratulations... - he added, but that was the last thing on young driver's mind. Few other drivers in the waiting room took out their phones to check the results, but in the end - there were more important things than that.

- Holly shit. - someone whispered and almost immediately added. - Y/n crashed after the red flag. She got 5th. With the fastest lap. - all heads turned to Carlos, who was sitting on the floor. Even Toto couldn't believe what he just heard. He knew you were good, damn... He believed in you since day one, that's why he was so quick to sign you. And now... Now Y/n Y/l/n was officially the first woman since 1975 who scored points in F1, which was a historical achievement.

- She got 11 points... - James confirmed after checking his email once again. And then there was silence again. There should be a celebration, all of them knew that. And even though someone will contest that, because technically you wouldn't be able to finish the race if it were resumed, and your team would fight tooth and nail for that not to be taken away... But for now, in the official FIA statement, you finished in 5th place.

There were some murmurs and whispers, but none of it mattered to Toto more than you actually living, so when he saw the familiar face of a young doctor again, he almost jumped from his seat.

- Hello again... - she smiled, which he took as a good sign. - The orthopedic surgeon finished working on her legs and we were able to close them. There was no additional damage to the thigh muscles, so we didn't have to take any part of them, which means that she will be able to regain a full range of movements, in time of course. The neurosurgeon just finished reversing the aneurysms, and the new head CT didn't show any additional injuries, so we will be able to slowly close her skull as well. We were also able to remove the other rib from her lung, and the head of cardio is currently working on repairing her right lung, but we don't know for sure if it is viable, which means... - she stopped for a moment, not sure how the man in front of her would react to such news.

- That there is a chance you will have to remove it. But she could live with just one lung, right? - he made sure.

- With some restrictions, but yes.

- Then in the end it doesn't matter. How about her kidney and spine? - he asked, eager to know more.

- The kidney is being worked on as we speak, but the spine... - she stopped for a moment, trying to find the best words to explain the situation to someone unfamiliar with medical jargon. - The best way to get to the lumbar vertebrae would be from the back, which would require a change of position. And since the injuries on the front of her body are so extensive, the new position might be dangerous for her, so there will be benefits to closing her up, letting the body rest and regenerate for a few days, and proceeding with second surgery later in a week.

- Wouldn't leaving it as it is, be dangerous as well? I mean - is there a chance of the fragments moving and injuring her spinal cord?

- That's exactly why we haven't decided on the best course of action just yet. We still have to finish working on her kidney, lung, and ribs, while the neurosurgeon assesses which option would be the safest and does more scans to see if going from the front would be possible. It's unconventional, but it has been successfully done. - she explained and Toto nodded.

- Thank you for explaining that to me... - she just smiled gently and walked away.

It was the first time he looked at the clock, and it was almost midnight, but he didn't feel that at all. Time was weird, because he felt like the crash had happened just a few seconds ago, and at the same time as if centuries passed since he saw your car barreling down the track. And then he heard an unfamiliar voice calling out your name. He instantly turned around in that direction and saw a medical responder in full gear. She repeated your name once again and Toto finally put his hand up.

She quickly came closer and sat in front of him.

- Good evening, sir... I was one of the first responders to the crash, and I was responsible for intubating Y/n. - she started explaining, and Toto was too exhausted to ask what it was about, or even to introduce himself. - But before I did that... She was awake for just a moment. And she asked me to pass the message, the problem is... I don't know to whom. - it was like he caught a second wind because he instantly focused on the woman in front of him.

- What did she say...? - he asked, leaning forward. He knew everyone was listening, but he didn't care.

- She said... "Why didn't I say it back... Please tell him that I love him." - Toto blinked a few times as if the words had trouble reaching him, but when they finally did... He started to laugh like a maniac, and everyone looked at him in worry that he actually snapped or went crazy.

Earlier today, when you were both just waking up with the first rays of sunshine peeking over the horizon, he said those three magic words for the first time... Three words, eight letters... He didn't expect anything in return, because he knew how hard expressing any emotions came to you, but it was important to him to assure you that he, indeed, loved you and wasn't planning to go anywhere. He also knew that you loved him, because you had your own way of showing that to him...

So, to hear that when you were convinced you were dying, the last thought in your mind was telling him something he already knew for a while was... a bit absurd. But then it hit him... You did that because you thought that he didn't know you loved him. And your possible last thought was letting him know that you weren't in it just for fun, that you were serious about your relationship. And that made him freeze.

- Sir...? - the lady in front of him reached to touch him but stopped last second.

- I'm sorry... I know who that message was for... Thank you for passing it on. - he gave her a weak smile, and she just nodded. - And thank you for what you did for her... It means a lot to me. - he added quieter, and just like that, she was gone.

The atmosphere in the waiting room was still extremely tense, but that didn't stop a few of the drivers from dozing off. Someone even ordered pizzas, but Toto didn't move... He didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't say anything... He was a shell of himself while his heart was being cut open, stabbed, prodded, and stitched back up on the operating table just a few meters away.

And while at first people were brushing it off as a team principal caring for his driver, the few closest to him realized that there was more. Finally, Bono had enough and sat right next to him.

- How long...? - he whispered quietly enough that no one else was able to hear.

- I don't know what... - Toto immediately wanted to deny everything and play stupid, but one look from his friend and he folded. - 5 months... - he said, barely any sound leaving his lips.

- And the thing the paramedic said...? - he asked, but only got a nod in reply. - Shiiiiiiit... - this time Toto looked at him confused. - I lost the betting pool.

- What?

- We have... Well, now had... A betting pool because we noticed that you were much happier for quite some time. The most popular option was antidepressants, and I bet on that, not gonna lie. - Toto just blinked a few times, still trying to process what was being said. - There was also a winning streak, therapy, someone you hated dying, that you got laid, but Lewis was the only one that bet on a new relationship. I mean - there were a few more people who bet on the relationship, but Lewis nailed the 5 months. - Toto still couldn't believe what he was hearing, but somehow, the absurdity of the situation helped him relax just a little.

- You make bets... about my private life? - he was genuinely curious if it was the first time.

- Well... Yeah. Because you're all mysterious and shit. It's easy to make up some crazy stories just for fun. - Bono just shrugged. - None of us suspected that you and her... I mean, in public, you were equally close with... - he stopped and pointed with his chin in the direction of the familiar face in blue scrubs.

- We were able to save the lung and a kidney. All ribs are secured in their places. - Toto sighed with relief for the first time since he saw the car tumbling on the tracks. - The head of neuro managed to find a way to repair the vertebrae from the front, but it will be a long procedure. The angle he has to go in from is very unusual and taxing, but we will be able to do everything today. Her vitals are stable, her heart is strong... She's doing well, sir. We still don't know the extent of her brain injury, which will have to wait till she wakes up, but we are optimistic that she will. - she smiled softly and gently squeezed his arm.

- Thank you... - and with that, she was gone again, and Toto looked around the waiting room... It was almost 3 AM, and the surgery started... around 10 hours ago. And yet the whole younger generation of drivers was here, most of them still in gear... Some were on the uncomfortable chairs, some quietly talking, and few even fell asleep on the floor. Even though you were all competitors, and you weren't even a full-seat driver yet, they still respected you and your skills a lot. - Guys, I think you should go back to your hotels and get some sleep... Or just rest... I'll let you know in the morning how the surgery went. - few heads turned in his direction, but no one moved. Lando finally broke the silence.

- With all due respect sir, she wouldn't leave any of us... - Toto couldn't help but feel... pride. Not just for you, but for them. Just 10 years ago this type of situation wouldn't be possible... After the crash, maybe one or two drivers, who were the closest to the injured one, would be in the hospital, but never for this long... And never this many... They were good kids, and it meant that the times were changing.

- I can't disagree with that... - he smiled. - Thank you all. - he added and sat right back. Now, that most of your injuries were under control, he let himself think of anything else, and that turned out to be those boys behind him. He quickly wrote a few messages to the other team principals, letting them know where most of their drivers were and asking them to arrange at least a change of clothes, because the majority of them still had sensors under their gear, and that must have been uncomfortable. He also took time to bring every single one of them a cup of that awfully sweet hot chocolate and spent a few minutes talking with them one on one about whatever they needed to get off their chests. And next to being worried about you, most of them were scared...

It took a while, but he finally came back to his original chair and for the first time - leaned back in it and stretched, but that wasn't near enough for him to release all the tension collected in his body. But now... Now he allowed himself to hope.

The next time he saw Alex, she was with another doctor, and it was already getting bright outside. All of the drivers - now in regular clothing - were sleeping on each other in different combinations, and only George was awake beside himself.

- The operation was a success... - she started, and Toto felt as if someone finally took the weight of the whole world from his shoulders, the relief of it forcing tears out of his eyes. - She's already stitched up, and soon we will move her to a recovery room, where you will be able to see her - for the first few hours, just through the glass and then in person. - you lived. That's all that mattered. - She will be in a medically induced coma for at least a few days to prevent her brain from swelling more. We will continue monitoring her, and based on the results we will decide when will be the best time to wake her up. - the young doctor explained and when she looked over the waiting room, she added. - She... She's stable, but she doesn't look well... - the tone of her voice was enough to convey what she really wanted to say.

- They won't take no for an answer... They will want to see her. - he quietly said. - They look young, well, they are young... It's hard to explain, but they need to see her. They need to see for themselves that she's alive... - Alex looked at the older doctor who gave silent permission. - Thank you for all you did... For saving her...

- I can take you to see her now, but the rest... Groups of 3 the most. - Toto nodded and another sigh of relief escaped his chest. He still couldn't believe what happened. When he saw the crash, he was mentally preparing for the funeral, but now... Now you were alive. Still extremely injured and with months if not years of therapy in front of you, but you were alive. Fuck everything else.

- Can you give me a minute...? I'd like to tell them myself. - he explained and after getting a quiet “sure”, he went first to Bono and James, who were sleeping in the chairs next to each other, and very quickly explained what he just heard. After that, he went around the room and quietly told everyone else. Some of the younger ones immediately started crying from relief, and he couldn't blame them, because he did the exact same, so he just pulled them into a wordless hug until they calmed down. It definitely took more than a minute, and he felt a bit bad for keeping the young doctor awake, but when he took a quick look in her direction, she smiled at him, letting him know that he can take as long as he needs. This was definitely an unusual situation.

But eventually, everyone was up to speed, and the atmosphere in the room relaxed a bit. There were even a few awkward laughs, but Toto wasn't there to hear them. He was walking a couple of steps behind the young doctor who was kind enough to update him over the last fifteen hours, and he tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to see. You were alive. That's all that mattered.

It wouldn't be the first time he saw someone after the crash, hell - he was in one himself. Albeit not such a serious one... He was around the track long enough to know that even the nonlethal injuries weren't pretty, he saw what could happen to drivers who either weren't careful, skillful, or lucky enough. But you were definitely careful and skillful enough. But today, well... yesterday. You didn't have enough luck. A mechanical failure. Two of the things that had so many fail-safes, he wasn't sure he could count that high. But somehow all of them failed... He knew there would be an investigation, but that didn't matter. Because you were alive.

So, when he finally saw you through the thick glass... He broke. He had to hold himself on the metal barrier in front of the window just not to fall over, and the young doctor put his arm under his, trying to assist him until he'd be able to stand straight. You looked so small connected to all the heavy machinery in the room. A thick tube down your throat, a bag of full blood connected to the IV port in your arm, all the cables coming from under the bandages on your chest... The draining tubes coming from under the bandages on your thighs... Your face was swollen, with bruises in multiple places, and your head was shaved and covered in bandages. He couldn't help but laugh at that one detail... You wanted to shave your head for ages but never found the right moment with all the press and photoshoots.

And your hands... Somehow, they didn't fit the picture... They were pristine, not counting the IVs... No bruises, no bandages, no anything... Your long fingers looked exactly the same as they did this morning when you intertwined them with his, just as he was about to tell you he loves you.

- I'm sorry, it's just... - he started, but he couldn't finish, so he just rested his forehead on the cold glass in front of him, trying so hard not to let tears into his eyes.

- It can be a lot, seeing a loved one like this... I understand...

- She's alive... - he failed. He tried to convince himself that it was enough, but seeing you like that... So small, so... weak. It hit him. He wouldn't be able to live without seeing you wildly dance on the roof of one of the many hotels you stayed in during the racing season... Without hearing your broken singing from under the shower in the morning... Without your contagious laughter at something stupid, he said... He needed you more than he needed to breathe, and it scared him.

He wiped the tears with the back of his hand, straighten his posture, and did his best to compose himself. Not for himself, but for the people who were about to see you like that. You lived... and for now that had to be enough.

He didn't leave your room since he was allowed to enter it for the first time... Sitting at your bed, holding your hand, putting on the music he knew you'd like, reading aloud... And with every passing day, you started looking... stronger. The color started returning to your skin, and the bruising and swelling on your face slowly started healing. The drivers kept visiting you, and when they had to leave to prepare for the next race - they kept sending you gifts.

Lewis stayed the longest after he finally got well enough to leave his room... He spent the entire day at your side, holding your hand, apologizing profusely, and praying... And after he didn't have any more tears left in him, he started telling you stories he knew you'd love. He was also the one to bring that perfume you bought in Egypt and which you absolutely adored; he put a drop of it behind your ears and on your wrists and left the bottle on the nightstand.

George was the one to take it the hardest... Even though he tried his best not to show it when he was visiting, Toto knew. He knew how close the two of you were, and all the crazy adventures you shared. You were like siblings on crack and the things you could get into when let out of the bullpen... He honestly couldn't believe that you haven't been arrested yet for some of the stuff you pulled... That's why the last time he visited before leaving the UK, Toto suggested talking to a therapist and George agreed.

It took more than the few days Alex mentioned after the surgery, but the decision to wake you up was finally made a bit over two weeks after the crash. And he felt like a babe in the woods the whole morning; happy that the medication will be out of your system, but afraid of what would happen if you didn't wake up.

Alex was the one who sat with the both of you in the room, watching your vitals like a hawk, and as soon as she saw any change, she explained to Toto what exactly it meant. Around noon, she made the decision to stop intubating you, because it looked like your brain took over that function. She of course was ready with a new tube, just in case, but it ended up not being necessary; even though one of your lungs wasn't fully healed, enough oxygen was getting to your brain.

Around noon he started to get antsy, but Alex quickly calmed him down and explained again that it might take even a few days because there is no way to tell how your brain would react. It didn't help much, but having someone to answer his every question was a godsend because he wasn't able to think about worst-case scenarios when there was a professional who said otherwise.

He wasn't able to eat, but he didn't care... He didn't want to miss the moment when you woke up. But the day ended and nothing changed. In the evening one of the other residents took over for Alex, but Toto still didn't move and didn't let go of your hand. Not even when he rested his head on the bed next to your legs for just a moment. But the moment became a bit longer when he closed his eyes...

A familiar sensation woke him up... Long, cold fingers running through his hair, and he couldn't help but smile, at first - not realizing what it meant. But then it hit him. His eyes shot open, and he immediately sat up.

Your beautiful eyes were open and full of tears, while your hand found his, and squeezed it tightly.

- You're awake... - he whispered the obvious... - She's awake! Get a doctor here! - he shouted when he realized you two were alone in the room.

You tried to say something, but the words stuck in your throat due to pain.

- Shhh... Don't say anything just yet... You were intubated and the doctors said it might take some time for it to heal... - he said, without even noticing he started crying, but you decided to ignore him; your determination was much stronger than a little bit of pain. Well, ok... More than a little bit.

- I... - you started, but the rest of the sentence didn't want to come out...

- I love you... And I know you love me too... I have known it for a while now. You never had to say it... I knew... - he said, brought your hand to his lips, and started pressing soft kisses to the back of it. You extended your finger to wipe one of the tears from his cheek, and his other hand quickly followed, wiping the rest. You looked around the room and noticed all the flowers, the teddy bears, the toys... There was even a... Tamagotchi...? And a brand-new Nintendo Switch...?

You looked back at Toto with a question painted on your face.

- The other drivers brought most of this stuff... They still keep sending things even though... - you nudged your head forward, urging him to continue. - Even though they had to leave for the next race. The accident was over two weeks ago, I'll explain everything later, I promise... But now the doctors will have to run some tests, ok...? - you nodded in response and shifted your gaze to the doctors that came into the room just a moment ago. They started simple, asking you to follow the light with your eyes and look in certain directions. And you did whatever they asked, not letting go of Toto's hand.

You were scared and in pain... But somehow you knew everything will be all right, because despite everything - you weren't alone. And that was certain.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #Toto Wolff fanfiction #Toto Wolff x reader #🖤

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citrus-simp · 1 year

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Can we see little blurb as a full length fic for requests this was adorable yet so naughty

{AN}-> I'm debating if I should make this a strict NSFW page where all the deep thirst is but at the same time I like writing fluff too, hmmmmm, I'm honestly doing this memory and kinda altered it a bit

{AN prt2} this is extremely overdue.

warnings; Smut; female reader, dirty talk, language. possessive, thigh riding, multiple orgasms(?), Overstim (?), proceed at your own risk!!

All characters are above the age of 18, taking place AFTER UA high.

================================

It all mostly started because you wanted more experience than what you currently had. You were fresh out of UA, ready to head-on with your life. Although, you're off to a pretty good start since you had a pretty nice place to stay with your roommate, Izuku. You had already been good friends so sharing a place to live wasn't a bad idea. You both put in your fair share of the rent, groceries, and other bills. On top of that, you also kept each other in good company.

However, at some point, everyone gets a little romantically lonely and you were feeling it more than ever. You decided to start dating but none of the guys you had met weren't meeting your expectations. They were shallow, some of them were too pervy, and immature and others just wanted sex.

So something had possessed you to go to Bakugo. Do not let his character fool you, this man attracts women like ants to honey. He was built like a god, had gorgeous features, strong, and was...experienced. Long story short you had both become friends with benefits after you came to some agreements.

1. this would remain between you both. He was big on privacy

2. if this were to happen neither you nor him would sleep with other people, for health purposes

3. if there were to be something more, you would have to let him know right away.

they were reasonable enough so, of course, you agreed. Whenever you need some company or something more you just give him a call or go over to his place. It was a lot more than just hookups tho, the sex was amazing but having him to yourself was really great too. During your periods if your cramps were bad and you just wanted cuddles, he would lay with you for however long you needed. Or maybe you wanted to go shopping and needed some help picking stuff out, he'll come with you

Oh, and he has a habit of sending you to get something so he could pay a majority of the sum. He somehow gets it right every time so you think you snagged a deal. Sometimes he spoils you and buys you some nice lingerie for special nights.

Well, today you had told him you could have a movie night. Only he had opened the door to something he did not like. You were playing some video games with Izuku before he had to go out, and you had your legs laid across his lap. His arms resting over your legs. In Bakugou's opinion, he was way too close to you.

"Maybe I should leave since you guys are having fun together." he sneered crossing his arms at the scene.

"Katsuki! You're here!" you said pausing the game "we were just playing a few rounds before Izuku went out," you said as you stood up from your spot

"Hey Kachan, I was just heading to the agency, it was good to see you again though," he said grabbing his phone and heading for the door "I'll see ya later Y/N!" you wave to Izuku as he closed the door and look back to the blonde. You head over to him and kiss his cheek

"What's got you all grumpy?" you ask about his grimace

"Whatever, it's nothing let's watch the movie" he grumbled getting the account set up on the TV and getting the movie running. You took your spot next to him getting comfortable in his arms. You knew by his lack of movements or comments that he usually makes

"hey." you said budging him but he didn't move. Well now you were left with one option

"hey" you repeated

"hey"

"he-"

"What?!" he snapped

"Why are you all pissed at me?" you ask coming off of him to sit on your knees

"Why don't you ask you, little boyfriend, Dek-" he stopped looking you up and down "The hell are you wearing?" he snarled

"Huh?" you look down to Deku's hoodie that you were wearing "O-oh, it got cold and he offered his hoodie s-so I took it and-"

"So what are you fukin' him too?" he interrupted

"No Katsuki!" you defend "God it's a damn hoodie, either way, why are you so jealous? It's not like you're my boyfriend!"

"Not your boyfriend huh?" taking your wrist he takes you into what is Deku's room and sat on his bed "We'll see what you say after this," he smirks deviously and strips from the sweats he was wearing to reveal his muscular thighs

"pants, now," he demanded "you're gonna cum all over my thigh teddy bear" he smirked

"B-but what abou-"

"Come on, maybe I'll even forgive you," he said patting his lap. You had to be honest for one thing seeing his muscles and him being demanding in the bedroom was really a turn-on. You pull your pants down along with your panties and walk towards him. His hand lands on your hips as he leads you to straddle his thigh and sit down Direct contact with the muscle made you shiver. He pats your ass with a squeeze and said

"Start grinding those hips baby," he smirked as his hands travel up under the hoodie you wore to caress your skin. You do as he demands and grinds forward and back, forward and back. A long sigh escapes your lips

"That's it, baby, get yourself off on my leg." he flexes his thigh increasing the pressure on your clit making your jolt "take this shit off, 'wanna see those tits," he said practically ripping off your shirt and the hoodie along with it. Your nipples are exposed to the cool air as you keep grinding his leg

"Katsuki~" you mewl as you throw your head back, his arm circling around you bringing you flush against him as he sucks on your neck. Moving from place to place making sure to mark his territory. With a shake and jolt, you come undone all over his thigh. Your body jolts every now and then as hold on to his shoulders.

"Good girl~" he growls lifting you up a bit to show how much you had come. A string still connected to your dripping pussy glistens in the light

"K-katsuki..." you pant still coming down from your high

"Don't whine now doll, I'm not done just yet" he smirks as he flips you over and throws you onto the bed. You watch as he slides his sweatpants off, his cock springing hard. His calloused hands meet your knees as he kneels in front of your and rubs the head of his cock over your silky slit.

"Damn, nice and wet, just how I like it," he grinned "Ready for me, teddy bear?"

You nod your head, aching to be filled with his cock. He slides in effortlessly, making you both sigh in relief and pleasure. You constricted around him tightly and he filled you deliciously. He pulls out painfully slow and rams himself back in.

"Fuck!" he finds a steady pace as he rocks his hips back and forth. "Pussy, so good...only I can fuck you, you know this" he panted flipping you onto all fours. One hand pushing your shoulders down and keeping your ass up "Even your pussy knows it. I can feel it squeeze me whenever I tell you so" he growls.

This had to be one of his favorite view and position. A firm spank comes down on your ass making you jolt. Even when he was so erotic and vulgar with his words, it only elevated the pleasure.

"Fuck yourself back on to my cock baby, just how you like!" he huffs leaning back enough for you to continue riding him back. The way your ass bounced on his cock, the sounds filling the room. The idea of him fucking you in Deku's room just added to the entire act.

"K-katsu~" you moan as his larger hands hold your hips ones again and gets back into his thrusting rhythm. "fuck" you whispered as you could feel your stomach cramp in another orgasm. You could feel him twitch inside of you as his pumps became more violent and sloppy.

"Shit princess, where do you want it?" he asks chasing both of your highs with a constant rhythm of spanks following.

"i-inside!" you pant out feeling yourself climbing higher and higher.

"Yea inside?! Who does this pussy belong to? Who do You belong to?!" Punctuating each question with more strikes to your ass

"YOU KATSU! YOouu!~" you cry out as you cum over his cock once again. With a few more pumps he empties himself inside you. You milk him while his cock pulses inside, emptying his load into you. His body looming over you but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his body. He pulls out of you, and slumps over next to you. He pulls you in close to him and sticks his nose into your hair.

Despite having intense sex, he knew that after care is always important, even if they were just cuddles.

"...you know I could consider the option if you just brought it up," he mumbled into your hair

"Huh? What are you talking about," you said flipping over to face him

"..you know the whole. Boyfriend thing..I guess" he said nearly whispering. Truth was he really did have an attachment to you. You chemistry was good, you communicate pretty well maybe the dating thing was worth a shot, right?

"Hmmm, alright how about a proper date tomorrow night?" you offer wrapping your arms around his neck. "How's that sound boom-boy?" you tease with a smile

"fine..but I pick the place." he said sternly tucking you under his chin. "and your ass is moving in with me after this." he huffed making you giggle.

lil time skip...

Note: "Dear Deku, keep your shit stuff away from what's mine(Y/N)"

"...Huh I didn't know they were a thing..."

"P.S. thanks for letting us use your sheets as a cum rag." -B.K It was safe to say Deku did some early laundry that night. He wore gloves and everything to avoid touching any residue.

===================================

hope you enjoyed this ~ 🍋there will be more to come

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lunar-years · 3 months

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i hope this isn't too weird to join the discussion as a random follower but i've been very stuck on the trend you mentioned where prior to s3, fics often had jamie join established roykeeley after a lot of pining and self-recrimination. and i thought hmm i haven't really seen much of that for keeley joining established royjamie post s3, even though it would make a lot more sense given where they all are at the end of s3!

(cont.) i would love to read (or write) a fic about royjamie being on (but on the downlow due to their careers and the homophobia in football) and somehow keeley finds out about them so she has to keep things secret but is also like, oh god, this is it, this was the missing ingredient and i've MISSED MY CHANCE and angsting about whether she made the right decision in the end. it'd all come good in the end but let keeley feel insecure in fic! she's too self-assured in fanon imo.

YES!! You know funnily enough, despite this scenario being like, THE way I most think the ot3 actually gets together after the finale, I haven't written it and it's not in any of my current wips, either, lol. My friends with benefits fic is sort of going to include a similar dynamic (at least in terms of Keeley being like, fuck I've missed my chance and now they're going to get together without me and its my own fault yada yada). Except it's a slightly different flavor of it because they're fwb and Keeley is still participating as often as she pleases and neither roy nor jamie have yet realized how the dynamic has shifted from fwb into something else/more between them. so it's really just Keeley panicking on her own that they're going to realize at any second how they feel about one another and ditch her altogether.

but anyway, YES i want to read your exact version, and YEAH Keeley definitely is too self-assured in fanon, especially for a character who was basically continually in a self crisis spiral for 75% of season 3, lol.

If I had to pick a single headcanoned way I think they get together after canon events, I think Roy & Jamie apologize to Keeley and she kindly tells them she isn't currently in the place for a relationship with either of them, but she cares about both of them deeply and wants them to all be friends (with an implied 'my thoughts on being together romantically might very well change in the future, I'm just not ready for that now.') Which honestly is the right call for her personal growth and self care, because I think Keeley deserves & needs a hot single girl self-love era.

Only, Keeley hasn't actually realized how close royjamie have gotten as she's been having her various s3 crises, and even though she obviously knows they're not obligated to wait around for her to make a decision, I think there's probably a part of her (that she refuses to acknowledge of course) that is like, 'well they've both simped over me this long, of course that door is always going to be open. I can just return to that decision when I'm ready.'

...Color-her-surprised when Jamie and Roy do not just wait around, they get together. And as they all three continue to hang out as friends, she catches on to the relationship and at first it's like okay this is hot, all good fun. But then she realizes just how close they are, and has a full blown crisis because holy shit this is serious, and how did that happen right when she wasn't looking? They're in love, and she's missed out because she was too busy tasking time for herself, and that just isn't fair, is it, she's the one who helped make both of them better!! SHE put in the work and now they're getting the payoff??

Cue angst and irrational thinking patterns and Keeley loneliness that of course ends with a frank conversation and a threesome that turns into canon throuple. amen.

ironically the fic I've read closest to this concept was written prior to s3, Robocop by wildwren. it was part of a roykeeley breakup series, but basically there's lingering sexual tension between all three of them, then Keeley decides she's ready to sleep with Jamie, only to go over to his and find him and Roy already fucking in the car 🫢 and then she thinks she's missed her chance etc. The series wasn't finished (if there was going to be more to it, idk) but the whole thing was BRILLIANT and like. spot on to the dynamics set up in s3, because wildwren is a wizard.

#royjamiekeeley #royjamie #ted lasso #asks #roy kent #jamie tartt #keeley jones #ship post

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becauseplot · 3 months

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*returns to yours* I HAVE THOUGHTS! NOT COHERENT ONES TOO SLEEPY AND NEED TO SAVE COHERENCY BUT THOUGHTS!!! MOSTLY ABOUT ISLAND TEAPARTIES AFTER THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP WHERE CELLBIT AND PHILZA DRINK TEA AND PHILZA TEACHES CELLBIT ABOUT STARS AND CELLBIT SLOWLY GETS BACK INTO HIS ENIGMAS AND THEY BOTH BITCH ABOUT TEA BUT DRINK IT ANYWAY BECAUSE IT HAS GOOD STATS

YEAAH!! YEAHHH!!! Okay okay okay so I meant to ramble more earlier when you initially responded to my ask and then I got sleepy and conked out and now it's super early for me, nailed it lmaooo. so anyway just like a couple things i noticed abt this scene *rolls out a scroll of notes, the bottom hits the floor and bounces out the door cartoon-style*

Chayanne gives Cellbit a rose!! Idk if Rose still has influence here (I'll have to sift through Phil's VOD to see if he says anything abt Rose, yesterday I mainly watched Cellbit's POV) but he's protected now!! That kinda folds him into Phil's "closer" circle of friends/family since it's primarily them who carries the roses for protection so!!!!! I'm!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE TEA!! Yes the tea the way the tea immediately broaches the topic of purgatory, and yeah the audible wince in Phil's voice after Cellbit says the tea triggers him and Phil agrees. Yeah it's so shit and they're both so sick of it but it's so OP. Phil survivalist (hardcore) :handshake: Cellbit survivalist (hunger games/"The War"), do and use what is necessary to keep yourself alive.

And AAA!! Yes, okay okay so like you remember that idea abt Phil and Cellbit having late-night convos at the Order pre-purgatory? This is basically that!! It's late at night, they're getting caught up with each other, they've both got the shitass tea and it's going cold and!! In my head this scene goes on for a full night and they just sit and talk and talk and talk, eventually conking out when it's late, just like old times EXCEPT THEY HAVE THEIR KIDS NOW WHICH IS ONE OF THE THINGS THAT BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER, THEIR DESIRE TO FIND THEIR KIDS, AND THEY FOUND THEM!!! (I should write a fic i NEED to write a fic, me vs the 754389 wips in my brain; in my head they still had late night convos in purgatory when their "play time" timers lined up, phil waking up early enough and cellbit staying up late enough for them to talk while the others slept)

The way Cellbit still minces his words abt what he and Bags did post-purg 1 "we had our fun...bolas...style..." is it because he thinks Phil will think less of him? because there's children present? because his SON is present? idk how much Richas knows abt what Cellbit did in purgatory, Richas *did* rescue him while he was fighting eye workers but does he know about Cellbit hunting fellow players for sport? what Cellbit did to his pai Pac? I NEED ANSWERS

Phil's "Dude! No! Oh my god... D:" to when Cellbit says Roier was better off without him. PHIL WAS AT THEIR WEDDING. HE TOOK THE GODDAMN PHOTOS OF THEM AT THEIR WEDDING. HE SAW HOW HAPPY THEY WERE, HOW HAPPY ROIER WAS, WHEN THEY WERE REUNITED IN PURGATORY. Phil isn't close enough to Roier nor speaks to him enough to really understand the full extent of Roier's grief after purgatory 1, but it's gotta be hard for Phil to imagine Roier happy with Cellbit gone. Whether he believes it when Cellbit says "yeah Roier told me he was better" (doied WHEN I GET YOU---) is up for debate but I think about this constantly.

Phil fucking laughing when Cellbit admits he ate some of the eye workers fhdjsk. I can't get over the combo of Cellbit POV (in character thinking: "I'm terrible I'm a cannibal I'm a monster") vs Philza POV (cc who laughs at everything that is even remotely cursed) honestly, taking this as in-character (bc ccPhil doesn't mute his mic to laugh and he...usually does that for ooc bits while in the middle of rp), it says a lot abt qPhil that he's able to just laugh abt an admission of eating corpses. ethics who? geneva convention who? qPhil doesn't know her. munch on those eye workers king they're dickheads. (fuck, DOES qPhil know that Cellbit is a cannibal, as in, he has eaten not just workers but other players?? hmmm...)

"I'm sorry I couldn't do much as bolas leader" "It's better that you didn't see us...I think you'll be disappointed" "oh I could never be disappointed what do you mean shut up *laughs*" GODDDDDDDD also Cellbit trying to say he got worse after purg 1 and Phil saying "nah bolas is already at ground level" (either not understanding or indirectly reiterating that he won't condemn Cellbit for his actions, I can't tell) and then Cellbit just,, going with it. because it's not worth it to argue and he's trying to move past all of that now anyway. (QCELLBIT PROCESS YOUR TRAUMA CHALLENGE LEVEL IMPOSSIBLE)

watching Phil's POV now and HFDJSK you can't hear it on Cellbit's stream but Phil catches Richas as they're both leaving and says quietly, "Take care of your dad, Richas, n' take care." I'M 💥💥💥💥 (<-banging table)

Anyway!! This is what happens when the two characters I'm obsessed with interact for the first time in months. Over-analyzing a 5 minute convo. Sorry, it will happen again :] Praying they stay as neighbors I'd love to see archivists have more interactions!! And yes yes yes yes the tea parties with the kids!! Phil routinely chatting with Cellbit and watching him slowly "regain his color" as he settles back into peaceful life post-purgatory, falls in love with enigmas again. They've always trusted each other when they don't trust themselves, and they're both a Stable Point for the other. I'll miss what we never got to have with the leaders-of-the-Order-having-meetings ideas (timezones, wails) but I'm so excited for new island mysteries!! :D

#qsmp #archivists #asks for curly #istg the bulleted list was actually supposed to be short but uh. yeah. im nothing if not long-winded.#see the issue is that i know a good amt abt qphil #and a *pretty* decent amt abt qcellbit (language barrier *is* still there so i can't claim to fully understand his pov without help from-#-community analysis/translation) and so i can just kinda. talk abt them both. a lot.#there's fs details and nuances im missing but im trying!!#stream live translation is soooo helpful omg. alsocellbit streams for so long so frequently so its hard to catch every detail myself #also side note: is it still fanon that cell ate pacs leg? saw a post a while ago saying that it's technically fanon. idk if it's true-#-and i have no source so. shrug.

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mickittotheman · 29 days

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hello new friend! ✨️

saw that post about random questions for your stories, i am yet to read much of your works besides the most recent galladrabble!

so help me get started, what's your favourite fic you've written? maybe your favourite line even? what inspired it?

New friend❗️❗️❗️❗️ 💫✨️ Thank you so much for the ask, I've been waiting to get home from work ALL DAY so I can answer this lol.

So, I do have some (very old) works floating around from past fandoms, but so far the only gallavich fics I've posted have been my drabbles.

But! I have been working on a gallavich fic since like a few weeks before I even made this sideblog, and by "working on", I mean "like over 100k into it so far and not even close to done"

Posting full chapters before I'm done with the entire fic always makes me nervous because what if i have a new idea and need to go back and change something, but I'm always happy to share scenes in the meantime!

Basic premise is it's a vaguely canon-compliant-ish au except they never met growing up. Ian is in his EMT post- Caleb era, and Mickey is newly escaped from the Milkovich House of Horrors and working as a bartender. Inspiration wise, I got this idea for one specific line (from IGGY of all people. like don't get me wrong Iggy is cool and all, but I honestly never thought about him that much until my need to write a stupid pun overcame me) and it somehow snowballed into an Entire Plot.

Anyways, long ramble aside, I have included one of the earlier scenes below if you are interested but if not of course that's fine okay byyyyeeeee 🫣 🤐 😶

__________________

“Third drink of the night, Red,” Mickey says, sliding the newly filled glass of sprite back over to him. “Gonna hafta cut you off soon.”

“Ha fucking ha,” Red grumbles. Glares. Doesn't even try to hide the amused sparkle in his eyes.

He’s been acting weird today, though. Weirder than he usually is, and he’s already usually pretty fucking weird, so that's saying something.

He keeps shooting Mickey these little looks. Scrunching his brows together. Fiddling with his glass.

Mickey braces himself when Red suddenly takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, dreading what the guy might say. Might ask.

“Why do you call me Red?”

Mickey blinks. Out of all the questions he’d been steeling himself for, that hadn't been one of them. He’s not expecting it. Not expecting the serious look on Red’s face as he asks it. “Uh. Your hair. It’s red,” Mickey says like an idiot, as if the guy isn’t fucking aware of that fact.

Red huffs and rolls his eyes. Squints at Mickey suspiciously. Fiddles with his drink again. “Kinda starting to feel like you just don’t know what my name is.”

“Yeah, I don’t,” Mickey snorts.

Red falters. Nearly tips his glass over. “Seriously?” he asks. Looks a bit put out, a bit annoyed, a bit hurt, and over all really fucking ridiculous. “You don’t remember my name?”

Mickey cocks his brows. “You never fucking told me it, man.”

“I did! I–” Red’s eyes dart around, and Mickey assumes he’s flitting through his memories, trying and failing to find the moment he introduced himself. His skin goes all flushed (and Mickey doesn't think its adorable, because it’s fucking not) and he buries his face in his hands dramatically. “Oh my god. I am such an idiot.”

Mickey bites at his lower lip to reign in the smile threatening to pop up. Raps a fist on the bartop. “You good? You’re looking kinda red there, Red.”

Red splays out his fingers and aims a glare at Mickey from behind them. “Ian. My name’s Ian.”

Ian.

Mickey rolls it around in his head, on his tongue, getting used to the flavor of it. Ian. It’s good. Short and sweet, just like ‘Red’. Same amount of letters and everything. Flows better, though, the kind of name that sounds good when it's drawn out long and slow in a groan.

Holy fuck does Mickey need to get it together, this shit is getting fucking ridiculous.

Red– Ian– has regrouped himself while Mickey’s brain was falling to shambles. His pouty glare is back to full strength as he crosses his fucking treetrunk arms across his wide chest and fucking focus, Milkovich. “You didn’t think to fucking ask me what it was? This whole time?”

Mickey shrugs. Rubs at his lip. “Figured if you wanted me to know you would’ve told me.”

Ian uncrosses his arms to flail his hands around. Nearly knocks over his drink again. Mickey sagely reaches over and pushes it out of the danger zone. “Of course I wanted you to know! You think I wanted you to refer to me in your head by the color of my hair every time you think about me?”

“Who the fuck says I spend anytime thinking about your sorry ass?” Mickey shoots out, immediately on the defensive, because yeah, maybe he does spend too much fucking time thinking of Ian, but he’s not just gonna fucking admit to that.

Ian perks up at that. Grins that fucking grin that Mickey knows by now means trouble. “Didn’t say they had to be thoughts about my ass, specifically, but–”

“Shut the fuck up, Red–”

“Ian.”

“Ian,” Mickey mocks. He doesn't think he’s entirely imagining the way something sparks in Ian at the sound of his name in Mickey’s mouth, but he could just be confusing it with the way something in his own body gets set ablaze.

They both swallow. Mickey can see Ian’s adam's apple bob with it. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from Ian’s throat.

He thinks maybe Ian might be flirting with him sometimes. Maybe. But he’s not sure. Isn’t used to this.

Before, he’d always scope out his options, settle on a guy who seemed safe enough. Wouldn't have to say a word. Would just catch their eye, cock his brow, and jerk his head towards an exit. If they followed, great. If not, whatever. No skin off Mickey’s back.

He’s never done whatever this shit is. If this shit even is anything. Which, again, it could be.

Probably isn’t. He’s probably just gone too long without getting his dick wet. Is probably just pining like some fucking school girl after the unattainable quarterback, seeing signs that aren’t there. Fucking pathetic.

It ain't right. Mickey’s not fucking pathetic. He’s just not.

+++

That’s what he tells himself, at least, when he’s leaning his back against his front door hours later. Breath still panting, hand still shoved down his now sticky boxers, tongue still tasting Ian’s name, not even having made it to his fucking bed in his rush to get in and get off.

+++

#mechy answers #my scribblings #also YAY first ask on this blog whoop whoop 🎉#i can be bribed into sharing more scenes #and by “bribed” i mean “given the tiniest crumb of encouragement” lol #also NEW FRIEND YAY

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miupow · 4 months

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Smooches all over 🩸 anons face for bringing out tyunning crave lore I absolutely ate that up! Lia you and I have some wavelength going on I had the same idea that Tyun would take a while to warm up to the idea of keeping a human around, i may have mentioned it before i think

I actually have a small headcanon (is it weird to have headcanons about someone else's work i dunno) where reader and Taehyun are out in the woods so she can have a walk, one of the first few times they start to do so, and they're a little too close to town and she spots someone she knows. Taehyun's like oh shit, because on one hand he could leave her here and she could go back where she belongs but if he did Yeonjun would kill him so he had a mini internal struggle

But I have digressed as I often tend to do! I wanted to ask who in the pack can be put in their place by just one look from Yeonjun? I think we all know who isn't a contender, Beomgyu needs like a whole hand clapped on the back of his neck before he behaves 😂

Also i hope you're feeling better soon 💕

-🏹

i'm feeling lots better now, thank you 🏹 nonnie!! <33 flare up's almost completely gone now, thank god, was worried i was gonna have to go on antibiotics AGAIN....

we are absolutely on the same wavelength on crave omg... your ideas always hit so hard and make me want to write so much about my wolfy boys... currently open for full fic ideas for crave that isn't just smut <333 lia can finally flex her plotting talents

and it's not weird at all that you have crave hcs lol!! i honestly love it, a major point of my works is to get ppl thinking :> a lot of tyun's character revolves around an internal struggle lol, he's fighting himself (and others) all of the time

and for who in the pack can be put in their place with just a look, this is gonna sound crazy but tyun and soobin! for tyun, he'll absolutely put in his two-cents but he's yeonjun's second hand man in a sense, he's sworn complete loyalty to him.. so its very rare that tyun would escalate something into an actual fight when it comes to jjun.

with binnie tho he's just very docile :3 doesn't like rocking the boat or causing any drama, so usually he'll drop back with his head down the minute he's given a stern look lol :3

#lia.talks #lia.loveletters 💌#📥.crave #nightly.crave #📥: 🏹 anon!

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tsarisfanfiction · 9 months

Text

Eclipse: Chapter 32

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades We're finally here - the last chapter and end of this story. This fic's been a year and a half in the making, and it feels weird that it's finally done and posted. To head off the question I know is coming (because it's already been floated in the discord) - no, there is currently no plan for a sequel. Yes, there is definitely space for it, and if it happens it will be the Revolution~, but I have several other projects at the moment that I want to work on, and honestly writing a full blown revolution fic would be a lot of work and time I don't have right now. So for now at least, assume there won't be one. I'm not making any promises on the next project or when it'll come, but I have several muses clamouring for attention so there should be another longfic out of me at some point... In the meantime, I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one! If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 31

APOLLO XXXII

A goodbye for now The future keeps coming, but This tale is over

Hades rolled his eyes. “You do not need to thank me, nephew,” he said, the familial title sounding almost fond and reminding Apollo yet again of Hades’ words after the Arai. “I never intended to allow Nico to return to the Pit; it should be I thanking you for preventing it when he had found a way to get around my notice.”

Apollo had no words to say to that, a creeping feeling of awkwardness descending around them. In the Pit it had been one thing, an alliance for survival against the Pit and everything it tried to throw at them – which had, eventually, been everything or close enough to it that Apollo was still amazed that they had escaped, and thoroughly grateful to Thanatos for choosing to aid them. Now, there was no adrenaline tying them together, no co-dependence for survival.

They were safe once more, in Hades’ domain where Apollo had less power while his uncle ruled over every daktylos of it, and Apollo was not sure if he was expected to stay and talk, or if he had overstayed his welcome and was required to leave, now that the demigods had departed and Asclepius sentenced.

Silence stretched between them, before Hades broke it with a sigh. “I did not lie, in the Pit,” he said. “Your presence is more tolerable than that of your siblings and cousins.” There was a weighted pause. “Certainly more tolerable than your father.”

“I don’t think being more tolerable than him is much of an achievement,” Apollo muttered, and Hades let out an amused noise.

“No, it is not,” he said. “Once, he was fair and just. Now, he has allowed paranoia to devour any common sense he once had and isolates himself, fearing a knife in the back at every turn. In truth, he is hardly recognisable from the young god I recall leading us from Mount Othrys, except in his determination.”

Apollo knew the stories, but that had been long before he and Artemis had been conceived so all he knew were the stories, most of which had been told to an infant god by his mother. Zeus had rarely spoken of it, and Apollo had never been close enough to the other involved gods for them to tell him about it.

“Speaking of your father, and my siblings,” Hades continued, “I was not expecting Poseidon to drag himself from his watery depths, much less to take the side of Bob. Athena, perhaps I could understand your sister gathering, but Poseidon keeps himself out of reach of Olympus almost as much as I.”

“It wasn’t Artemis.” That much, Apollo knew, but the sound of his sister’s name provoked a memory of a vision, of two demigods scribbling symbols on a piece of paper. An awkward, not-quite bubble letter ‘C’ – or rather, he realised, a crescent – squiggly lines stacked above each other in parallel rows, a stick figure that could creatively be called a bird.

At the time, Apollo had been too distracted with the aftermath of the Arai to recognise what the bad iconography had represented, but now he recalled mention of Percy and Annabeth, and the pieces slotted together.

“It was Will and Nico,” he said, meeting his uncle’s eyes as Hades froze. “Somehow – Nico’s dream-walking – they reached out. They must have known bringing a titan out wouldn’t go down well and tried to find allies.”

It was a laughable thought – allies amongst the Olympians. Artemis was unique, his twin and intrinsically tied to him because of it, covering his back when she could manage, but the other gods? No.

Except, Hades had stood with him, still stood with him, amicable and merciful to the son who offended him more than once, and Zeus had been the one outnumbered in the throne room. It hadn’t been an alliance – Apollo had allied with three of the gods in there before, to try and talk Zeus into being a little less tyrannical, and that hadn’t been the same at all – but it had been something.

Trust demigods, who had little scope of the dynamic between gods, but an innate knowledge of how powerful friends in the right places could be, to head straight to the heart of the matter and enlist them regardless. They must have gone through their friends – Percy and Annabeth, for Poseidon and Athena, and Reyna or Thalia to reach Artemis – all demigods who also knew the strength in bonds.

Asclepius had warned them against it, but hadn’t stopped them – enough of a god to know how unlikely it was to work, yet with the memories of a demigod who knew it needed to work.

Hades sighed, clenching a fist in the fabric of his robes. The souls around his fingers twisted into something even more agonised. “Foolish children.”

“Very,” Apollo agreed whole-heartedly, “but it worked.”

His uncle scoffed. “It shouldn’t have done,” he said. “My son’s irreverence for the gods will get him killed one day, if he is not careful. It is one thing not to fear me – for all he should.” Apollo didn’t think for a single moment that Hades was as irritated about his son’s lack of fear as he projected; parents who wanted to inspire fear tended not to put themselves in danger to protect their child. “It is another to argue with or attempt to manipulate other gods, who would as soon as smite him down as listen.”

He wasn’t wrong, but Apollo could not see how they could convince Nico not to keep doing exactly as he pleased. It was not as though the son of Hades hadn’t experienced first hand the wrath of a god – Apollo recalled the death of Maria di Angelo all too well, and not just because it had coincided with his uncle cursing his Pythia in his furious grief.

That had been the moment Bianca and Nico had been marked as important, to the future. Their potential had always been there, but the potential had also been there for them to die in the war, forgotten casualties like so many others of the time period. Zeus’ attack on Maria had provoked Hades’ defence of the children, squirrelling them away, out of the time stream and safe until it was time to bring them back out to re-join the world.

“In the future, I expect William to attempt to stop my son’s suicidal plans, not enable them,” Hades said, and Apollo gave a shrug.

“I’m sure he’ll do what he can,” he said lightly, well aware that Will’s own stubbornness and strong morals were more likely to have him joining Nico in the chaos, rather than pulling him out of it. Even when he’d tried to keep Nico out of harms’ way, it had happened anyway.

“See that he does,” Hades grumbled, but Apollo suspected he, too, knew that the demigods were a lost cause. As long as they were happy, that was the most important thing – although safe and alive were also listed at the top of Apollo’s priority list, and no doubt Hades’ as well.

His uncle stepped past him, as though heading for his throne once again, but paused after a few steps, turning back to face Apollo, who had half thought that he had just been dismissed.

“The prophecy,” he began. “I find it curious that topaz referenced Koios.”

“I thought you didn’t care for prophecies,” Apollo retorted, defensive almost without thinking – it had been enough of a struggle getting his uncle to comprehend the idea of claiming one, and now Hades wanted to talk about the wording?

Hades hesitated, something that had been unnerving enough in the depths of Tartarus, but now in his own domain just seemed wrong. “I cannot say that I like them,” he admitted, a truth Apollo had long been aware of, “but I realise now that they exist nonetheless, and will not be gainsaid by my refusal to listen. I was… rash, when I cursed her. Your Pythia. I… should not have done that.”

It took Apollo a moment to realise his uncle was apologising, and another moment for the implications to sink in. It changed nothing; Cassie’s life had been forfeit and she had been forced to endure long beyond the limits of her mortal life, restricted from death but unable to live. With the lifting of the curse and the transference of her duties to Rachel, she had finally been allowed to rest, her torment over.

It also, Apollo realised suddenly, was not something he could condemn Hades for. Perhaps once he would have done, a hypocrite of the highest order or perhaps simply forgetting his own crimes, but thinking now about a young woman cursed by a god for no good reason, Apollo could only remember the Cumaean Sibyl and the grains of sand he had made her life.

He had long waited for Hades to acknowledge what he had done to Cassie, to apologise for it, but now that he had received it, it gave him no satisfaction at all. The act of his uncle apologising, and apologising to him, was strange enough in its own right, a flicker of warmth within his essence because apologies were not given lightly between gods, but it was cooled unpleasantly because as soon as he received it, it sent a chill through him.

He couldn’t accept it.

“You are not the only god to curse a prophetess in a moment of rage,” he admitted, glancing down at the polished black marble of Hades’ throne room floor before meeting his uncle’s eyes. Hades looked surprised, as though he hadn’t known about the Sibyl – but perhaps he hadn’t, her name not appearing on Thanatos’ list of souls to be reaped and leaving that crime of Apollo’s unrevealed. “I cannot condemn you for it when I have done worse.”

Cassie still had a body, when she was finally allowed to pass on. The Sibyl of Cumae had been nothing but a naked and vulnerable soul, her body long since decayed to nothing while she still endured. Apollo could not call it living, not in that state.

Hades’ eyes regarded him, surprise flickering in black flames for a few moments before morphing into something else, softer and yet harder at the same time. “In that case,” he said after several long moments, during which Apollo felt exposed in a way he hadn’t even when his form had been torn to shreds and his essence was the only thing left of him, “let me rephrase. In cursing your Pythia, I belittled and disrespected you and your domain. You and she attempted to use Delphi to protect Maria and her children, and when I did not listen, I lashed out at the ones that would have helped me, had I allowed it. If you will not accept an apology for my treatment of her, then let me instead apologise for the disrespect I gave you then.”

Apollo froze. He had thought Hades would brush off the attempted apology and continue with whatever it was he had to say about the wording of the one they had claimed, not that he would amend the apology to address what was, in essence, the real offence.

“I still do not like prophecies,” Hades confirmed, “and I do not believe I ever will. But they are part of the Fates’ designs, a part of your power, and I should not have lashed out.”

If the previous apology had startled Apollo, this one floored him. His uncle apologising for a single rash action was one thing, but to delve into the heart of the issue and apologise for what was, at its core, disrespecting Apollo? No, Apollo had never even considered the possibility.

He also knew that he could not brush this one away.

“Thank you,” he said. There were no other words good enough in the face of Hades’ honesty, no elaborate speeches that would share his gratitude so eloquently. “That…” His breath hitched, as he realised just how much it meant, but also that while Hades had been open with him, he hadn’t returned the gesture. “That means a lot.”

It felt wrong, baring himself, but if Hades could do it in Tartarus, then Apollo owed it to him to at least try. “I know it’s less competition, but you’ve always been the most tolerable of my father’s siblings.”

Hades’ face went blank. “Even Hestia?”

Apollo’s heart did an awkward twist at that, remembering her rejection of his advances. In hindsight, it had been the correct decision, for both of them, but at the time… Apollo had respected it, but he hadn’t been used to rejection. Not when he was the young, handsome god everyone was falling over to be near, let alone with.

“You have never rejected my presence,” he settled on. It must have been good enough, because Hades did not press further. “Then, you protected me, in the Pit.”

“We protected each other,” Hades said, his face still unreadable. Apollo hoped he hadn’t just overstepped, hadn’t just ruined everything he thought they’d created in Tartarus. “It has been a long time since anyone trusted me like you did.”

The corner of Apollo’s lip quirked up humourlessly. “It’s been a long time since anyone stood between me and Father.” He could scarcely believe that he was admitting that, that he was admitting any of his thoughts, but after his uncle had been so open with him – it was the right thing to do.

It also, inexplicably, made his essence feel lighter, like a great weight had just dispersed. “Thank you.”

Hades nodded, a single tilt of his chin acknowledging his words, but when he spoke it was a change of topic, backtracking to the comment that had sparked their openness. Apollo followed the subject change eagerly – baring himself, being honest, was unnerving at best, and if Hades didn’t want to leave those words hanging between them awkwardly, then he was more than happy to oblige.

“The prophecy,” his uncle said. “Topaz was an interesting choice for Koios.” With a flick of his wrist, a collection of gemstones appeared in his hand, a mixture of fiery oranges and yellows, and faded blues. “These are all topaz,” he said. “It comes in a variety of colours, but these are the most common ones, and amongst the common colours, its reputation is for yellows and oranges, not blue. Yet you and Koios both accepted without question that it was him.”

Apollo gazed at the gemstones, bright and pure in the hands of their god, and could only shrug. “Prophecies are not set in stone,” he reminded his uncle. “Topaz certainly referred to Koios” – he’d known that, felt the certainty of an event coming to pass – “but had events resolved differently, there may have been another prisoner of the Pit who better fit the other colouration.”

“You,” Hades said bluntly, not even letting Apollo pause before jumping in. “If you had gone without me, it would have been you.”

“It could have also been Asclepius,” Apollo corrected, “or anyone who ended up in the Pit and could be conceivably associated with one of the many colours of topaz.” Like Will and Nico. “Once a prophecy has come to pass, the other potential interpretations are meaningless.” Discarded possibilities, like so many of his visions over the millennia, because there were near infinite possibilities but there was only one future that would ever come to pass.

“And it has come to pass?” Hades pressed.

“Yes,” Apollo said simply. “It has.”

Really, there was no more to be said on the matter. Prophecies were simple, in hindsight, and this one was no different; he and Hades had ventured to the depths of the prison in Tartarus, and helped Bob and Koios leave – with the help of Thanatos – before he and Artemis had cast Koios back down at the moment their domains overlapped. It was almost too simplistic to encompass everything else the prophecy had caused, the weeks of impossible-to-track time trudging through Tartarus and suffering everything the Pit chose to throw at them. None of it had been even referenced in the vaguest terms by the prophecy, and yet without it none of it would have happened.

“In that case, it is time we returned to our duties,” Hades said, turning away once more and continuing his way to his throne, resizing to fit. Almost instinctively, Apollo grew to match, even though this time he was sure that was the start of a dismissal. “Thanatos did well, but he is not this realm’s god. Likewise, the sun felt wrong, without you at the reins. The gods from the other pantheons are not you, Apollo, and you are irreplaceable. Do not let anyone, least of all your father, tell you otherwise.”

Ichor rushed around Apollo’s cheeks, and he pushed it down with only the innate force of will and absolute control being a god allowed him – things he had sorely missed as a mortal, when his body had failed him on multiple, often humiliating, occasions.

“So are you,” he replied, reaching for the sunlight high above them, in the Overworld. “See you later, dear uncle.”

“One last thing, nephew,” Hades said, and he paused, casting his gaze up at the god sat on his throne as the address registered. “Next time you need help, just ask.” There was no if, just a simple when, and Apollo wasn’t sure what to think about that when he was the god of prophecy and had no inkling of when he might need it, but the look on his uncle’s face was intent. “You know where to find me.”

It was a promise, Apollo realised, briefly losing his grip on the light high above in surprise. A promise of aid, when he needed it – something he hadn’t had in millennia.

“I- thank you,” he breathed, before finding enough presence of mind to say, “the same goes for you, uncle.” Hades rolled his eyes.

“If I need your help, I will call,” he said, but despite the eye-roll the tone wasn’t dismissive; rather, it was serious enough that Apollo could feel that he meant it. “Now, go.”

That was a dismissal, with no room for misunderstanding, but it wasn’t harsh, and Apollo gave his uncle a grin and a wave before latching onto the warmth of the sun and dissolving into light.

The sun was only just risen, a new dawn to mark a new day, but it was late enough that Apollo had once again missed the timing for the chariot. Tomorrow, then, he would take the reins again, although he was well aware that his horses required a lot of bribing and grovelling before then for disappearing on them again, despite the fact he had warned them this time.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he had almost an entire day to spare. Part of him immediately flickered away to Helios’ old palace in a near-repeat of when he’d re-ascended as a god – sure enough, Hermes had piled up all the subscriptions and repeating orders he hadn’t cancelled across the door again, and once Apollo got past it to enter the stables, the greeting he found himself on the receiving end of was very similar, complete with hooves in delicate areas.

Most of him, however, had only one destination in mind, and it was barely a thought to reappear at the edge of Camp Half-Blood, watching the demigods stir as their new day began. His children were all up and about already – Will was curled up in a suntrap near the porch of cabin seven, the unmistakable shadow of Nico tucked away outside of the sun’s rays but with his boyfriend nonetheless.

Will looked much better under the light of the morning sun, even if it was a sun that wasn’t Apollo’s. Tomorrow, when he took to the skies once again, he would ensure a boost to his son – it was the least he could do, after being the reason he had been trapped in the Underworld for so long.

“I hear you and the old man below stirred up some drama,” a voice drawled from behind him. Apollo had sensed Dionysus’ arrival and refused to give him the satisfaction of being startled when he began to speak. Dionysus had gained enough blackmail material to last him millennia simply from Apollo’s second, brief visit to camp on his and Meg’s way to Nero and their fake surrender. He did not need any more. “A titan rescued from the Pit, wasn’t it?”

“Bob,” Apollo confirmed, still watching the demigods as Kayla prodded Will incessantly until he stood up – bringing Nico with him – and meandered his way to the breakfast table. That appeared to be a cue for the others to swarm their brother and Nico, and Apollo was abruptly reminded that as far as the rest of the camp were considered, Will and Nico had simply disappeared for two months without a trace. No wonder they were delighted to see them back, and in one piece at that. “Formerly known as Iapetus.”

Dionysus snorted. “I bet Father loved that,” he commented.

“Not particularly,” Apollo replied. “The Fates intervened.”

That got the full attention of his younger brother. Apollo felt the burning violet flames of his eyes boring into the back of his head. “The Fates?”

“‘Bob will aid Olympus in her time of need’,” he quoted. “‘Because Olympus aided him’.”

That prompted another snort from the other god. “Father definitely loved that. I almost wish I’d been there to see his face. Where is Bob now?”

“Reuniting with Percy and Annabeth,” Apollo told him. “New Rome probably received rather a shock when he arrived with his chaperone goddess.” He suspected it would have been Athena who went with him on that particular errand, given that it concerned her daughter. Apollo certainly would have gone himself in her position.

Dionysus flapped a hand dismissively, clearly uncaring about New Rome’s potential collective heart attack. “So, what happens now, brother?” he asked. “Do we just continue in this boring dirge of an existence, ignoring the titan’s presence outside of the Pit, until something exciting enough to change things occurs?”

“Life isn’t boring,” Apollo corrected. “Did we not already establish that you will continue making wine out of the sour grapes deposited in your way? But as for me – Will demanded I drop by, and he seems awake enough now, so if you don’t mind-”

“One last question,” Dionysus said, the lazy drawl of his voice disappearing to be replaced with something dangerous. “The voice summoning Nico. I trust there will be no more noises dragging my patient into situations that worsen his mental health?”

Alcyoneus sprang to mind, jewels and rocks combined as he sent out a cry that had sounded all too much like help me despite an eternal grin on his face, luring Nico down simply to get to Hades. Apollo also recalled the way his and Hades’ essences had intermingled, furious and deadly even to a giant.

“The voice will not call him again,” he said confidently. “Hades and I made sure of it.”

“Good.” The single word was vehement enough it almost made Dionysus sound personally invested in the situation. Apollo almost called him out on it, but movement from the pavilion drew his eye back to Will.

Will, who was looking directly at him and pointing a firm finger at the stone table cabin seven used as their own. Apollo wasn’t sure how his son had noticed him, but he was not about to ignore such a blatant summons.

The rest of the table were beckoning him over as well, a total of eleven demigods including one son of Hades, and Apollo homed in on them like a fly to honey, slipping onto the bench next to Will, Austin on his other side.

“Is it over?” Will demanded, skipping greetings in favour of jumping straight into the grilling. None of his siblings looked surprised at the question, and Apollo assumed they’d all dragged the story out of Will the moment he and Nico had reappeared in camp.

Apollo smiled at him, and looped an arm around his shoulders. Instantly, his son nestled against him, and Apollo got a sense of tiredness. Of course, he and Nico had lost all semblance of a sleep schedule in the Underworld for so long, so far away from the movement of the sun and the moon. Arriving back in the middle of the night must have been a shock to their systems.

Was it over? Was anything ever, really, over, when the future kept marching forwards, adjusting to the tune of millions of small, individually inconsequential decisions with every new weave from the Fates’ loom?

But Will wasn’t asking about the universe. He was asking about Tartarus, about the voice calling his boyfriend, about the prophecy issued to him – but also to Apollo – and the titan that had clawed his way back out of the Pit and had no intentions of ever returning.

According to those, the answer was simple. “Yes,” Apollo promised, pressing a light kiss to blond waves. “It’s over.”

End.

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfic #pjo hades #pjo apollo #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #pjo dionysus #kayla knowles #austin lake #cabin seven #tsari writes fanfiction #eclipse

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sugoi-writes · 6 days

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FUCK. I WROTE PART NINE AND HAD IT ALL READY TO GO AND THEN MY KID GOT HER HANDS ON MY PHONE AND CLOSED THE APP. THANK LUCIFER I HAD THE FIRST HALF SAVED AS A DRAFT BUT STILL. OTL sending this separate because I was paranoid she'd do it again and I would have to write the second part a third time 😭 also realizing I forgot to put my sig at the bottom of Pt.9

..... Annnnd of course, after pressing send I remember that I forgot to rewrite the part where reader chokes Alastor when they cum. just shoot me holy motherfucking shit

At some point I'mma just make these into a full blown PWP fic. It seems like they get longer with each installment 🤣 (I'm sorry btw, I always feel kinda bad whenever I leave long messages in anyone's inbox 😫

AYEEEE WELL YA KNOW WHAT THEY SAY - GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE!! 😘❤️‍🔥

It's a fitting pet name Hunny Pun! You're the queen of puns and you're so so SO sweet like a Honey Bun! is that icing or Alastor's jizz on you??? ... im so sorry i'll see myself out again 😭 CAN'T FIND AND KISS ME IF I FIND AND KISS YOU FIRST BABES~! ❤️❤️❤️

I can't hold on to my anonymity anymore guys so I'mma be making Pt.10 my reveal post~ it's killing me that I can't leave rabid fangirl messages on your works like you all do here for me! I really did wanna wait until I got the Smutmus Holy Trinity complete or at least in the revision stages but just- GAH! I NEED YALL TO KNOW HOW AMAZING I THINK YOU ARE. Beautiful beautiful minds, inside and out i can't even-!

Seriously though, I can't even begin to express how grateful and happy I am to have met any of you! And there are no words in the English dictionary (or any at all really) that I could use to describe what I feel about how accepting and supportive you've been! I could NEVER thank yall enough for helping me to find the joy in writing again. I love all three of you so much and I'm honored to call you friends!! 🥺🥰💋

- ☄️❤️ Smut Santa

False Alarm for the Next Part!! And honestly, thank God, the vibe is still not charged HAH--

Oh no!!! I'm so sorry that happened to you!! I had a similar experience when writing my part 2 to my Nun! Alastor fic. Fun fact: had to re-write it 5 times because I kept forgetting to save it. ;;_;; hhhh my baby fever is so bad I'm crying, but man, KIDS! What a little stinker 🥹❤️

Also, my ask box is usually super empty? Like, you could LICK the floor with how neat and empty it is? I LOVE messages? Even better if they long like Alastor's girthy fucking co--

We--We were- when we??? ALASTOR GETS--??? MY HANDS AROUND HIS???

*Danny.Exe has experienced an Error*

*Rebooting*

OKAY IM BACK--

☄️❤️Anon... babycakes. At this rate I'm gonna do more than fucking kiss you. I think we're past that now. And if you keep calling me 'Hunny Pun', or similar pet names, I'm just gonna jump your bones--

Hug you!!!! I meant hug you!!!

It's Alastor's jizz. It's canon-- NO DONT LEAVE I NEED TO KNOW HOW I GOT IT ON MY FAAAAAAACE

GUYS CODE TREAT, CODE TREAT, THE ANON VEIL IS DROPPING!!! ITS DROPPING DHDHDJDHDJ-- You will never gain a mutual as fast as you will then I SWEAR

☄️❤️!!! Smut Santaaaaa! 🥹😭❤️ Your mind is a beautiful, smutty, enchanting place!!! Knowing that you've been religiously cranking this out, while also having a kiddo... Seriously, how do you do it??? If anyone deserves the praise rn, 🎵it's you??? It's you, ITS ALWAYS YOU!!🎵 ❤️❤️❤️

Don't push yourself too hard! Please? ❤️ I will treasure these rare, scrumptious little treats for as long as I have brain cells left ❤️ I will call you friend until you tell me to quit or I lose my voice for good. And even then, my lips will keep moving and repeating the same thing until I'm blue in the face. ❤️❤️❤️ you are such a sweet, sweet, soul, and I can feel your vibes, and they are so wholesome! I can't wait to meet the person or sexual fiend behind it all! I feel like I speak for us all, and not just the main 3, but EVERYONE: everyone who has read your posts love you to bits. And they love your work to bits. Best believe when you publish your first work, we'll be there. En masse. And we will be EAGERLY returning the love you surprised us with.

Thank you for all that you do. On this post in particular, you deserve a foot rub, a forehead kiss, and a hug that lifts and spins you off your feet! 💗💗💗

Have a blissful, best of days you can have, dear! You deserve it! 💗

#gah now im all mushy #i need to watch Howl's Moving Castle again #I NEED IT #☄️❤️ i said i love you like a million times let me know if that makes you uncomfy please? hahah;;;#MWUAH #☄️❤️anon #sweet post #smutmus #danny rambles #danny speaks

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otterandterrier · 6 months

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20 fanfic questions

Took this from @displayheartcode! You tagged me for a different one but I don't even remember what the last sentence I wrote was, so 😅

How many works do you have on AO3?

110

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

367,678

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars, but used to write for Harry Potter.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

One look and my heartbeat stops (Han/Leia, 197) Hungry hearts (Han/Leia, 194) And I saw sparks (Ron/Hermione, 189) Ignite my circuits and start a flame (Han/Leia, 162) Left unsaid (Ron/Hermione, 148)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Because not everybody who reads leaves a comment (or even kudos), so I like letting that person know that I appreciate the extra effort, and I love interaction as part of the fandom experience.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

For SW, this chapter of Hungry Hearts I think?? For HP, unquestionably, And they put a wreath of flowers over his head

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

God most of my fics have sappy endings lol, how can I even choose.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I did when I still posted on FFN, Home of Trolls.

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind?

Yes I most certainly do! Generally, explicit and spicy and full of feelings. Probably still vanilla for some standards? 😅

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't! And I don't think I ever will.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had my fics reposted on archives I didn't authorize, although with attribution. Properly stolen, I don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had two Ron/Hermione fics translated to Chinese!

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope! Maybe one day?

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Well I have to say Han/Leia don't I

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I refuse to give up on WIPs. That said, I started a H/L honeymoon fic years ago that I might never finish because it had no plot just vibes. It might get repurposed for another fic.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don't know, not as in I think my writing sucks, I just can't pick anything specific? Okay, I guess I think I do a good job at getting into a character's mindset and exploring their thoughts and feelings?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write sooo slowly. I'm incapable of writing a "shitty first draft"; I need to get my ideas down as closely as possible to the way I want them to on the first try. It's not because I need it to be perfect, it's just that if I write something down differently then I think I'll forget the way I wanted to do it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I mean, I am writing everything in another language already lol. But pretending I'm not... I think as long as it's genuinely respectful and researched, go for it!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

That's like asking about your favourite child (yes I know that's a cliche, but really). Also, I have a terrible memory and don't reread my fics often. Some of my faves are Under starless skies we are lost, keep with me forward (all through the night) and Homecoming.

Tagging a few writer friends, if you want to do it! @lajulie24 @walkawaytallblogs @diplomaticprincess @madame-alexandra @virtie333

#fanfic asks #fanfic questions #fanfic game #writing #about me

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dollsome-does-tumblr · 8 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love

thank you!! and to @svgurl410 , who also sent me this recently! 💕 i don't think i have a definitive five favorite fics because i've been at it for much too long, but here are the five my soul decided upon today!

i'm ready, i'm willing aka my succession fic that will not end [romangerri + THE WHOLE DANG FAM except greg, suck it greg] -- I am pretty sure this is the most challenging fic I've ever written in terms of balancing a lot of characters/relationship dynamics and also dipping into darker themes than I usually explore, so I'm just including it because it is a fave by mere virtue of me not abandoning it yet. it has felt like such an intense workout for my psyche. (yes, i realize that at its core, this fic is about connor and willa adopting alpacas.) last two chapters, you WILL see the light of day someday soon!!!!

forget your troubles (come on, get happy) [ted lasso, ted/rebecca + beard/sharon] -- i just have such happy memories of writing this one. the romcom gods were smiling down on me. i was in a great, sappy, fluffy mood from beginning to end. my ted lasso happiness perhaps reached its peak in this google doc.

whatever our souls are made of [gilmore girls, rory/paris] -- this is about edward cullen from twilight trying to woo rory and paris not standing for it, which automatically makes it my eternal pride and joy.

this is what you wanted [killing eve, villanelle/eve] -- i wrote this after season two; villanelle goes to alaska to get over murdering ("murdering") her beloved! this one is close to my heart since it's close to my home. i also love thinking of killing eve back when it was just those first two seasons. things were simple then, & full of hope! a weird thing to say considering what happens in the s2 finale, but i stand by it!

what are you afraid of, making it better? [gilmore girls, luke/lorelai] -- this is my 'i'm fixing the end of season six! i'm fixing it!' fic and i hold it close for therapeutic reasons. i honestly have kinda felt better about that whole to-do ever since i wrote this. the power of fanfic, babes!!

#dollsome's deep thoughts

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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wild one pt ten | stranger things ; g.emerson

tag list babes || req rules / fandoms+characters || send ?s || masterlist

CHAPTERS ;

one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine can all be found by clicking. stranger things masterlist is here.

AUTHORS NOTES;

Yeah, I know okay? I knowww. This story still has a chokehold on me though, so yeah I'm still writing it. This is just one more bit of filler before school begins for everybody. More fluff because I need it like I need air. That being said, there will be stress and angst and other little things here and there, so uh.. Please don't hate me if/when those start happening, 'kay?

Huuuge hugs and so much love to everyone who is actually still reading this fic of mine + any of my other writing because honestly when I came back and decided that maybe it was okay to share again, I was doing it with nothing more than the intent to get it out there and out of my head and I'll be honest, I still very much am. So all the interaction oh my god, you guys have me blown away, seriously. Like.. i can't even begin to express it -or thank you all enough.

SUMMARY;

-- cheerleaders and drummers/freaks don't mix. Or so it's been said. We'll see how this goes for these two, senior year is nothing if not stress-filled.

PAIRING;

Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader

{ beyond outfits , side characters, glasses, female parts and personality, i triiiiied to make her blank, i s2g. i'm still learning and transitioning from OC to reader inserts }

WARNINGS;

an overload of fluff. awkward parental meetings but also cute (Gareth meets the dad). swearing. just cuteness here, not too much to worry about.

TAGLIST;

@allelitesmut

@aries-arcade

@aurumbelis

@cole22ann

@chieflawyerpastatoad

@ebonybloom

@fandomfreakforever

@hcloangcls

@heyaitsklaudia

@hoeshii

@hotgirlsshareaccounts

@krys-orion

@letsbedragonstogether

@louderfortheback

@musichealsscars

@oflavenderandevie

@scoobiessnacks

@suits-and-smirks

@secretsicanthideanymore

@thechoiceslookgrimm

@untitledarea are the only names on my stranger things taglist. if you'd like to be added please click the link up top or let me know.

OTHER STUFF;

Gareth has been aged to 18. The Upside Down has never existed here, this is slice of life stuff. That means Starcourt Mall exists and so does Benny's Diner and all the other places that were destroyed in the past. It also means absolutely no deaths and writer, making up her own weird attempt at an interesting plot, lol.

He’s nervous as hell about meeting your father. One, he’s never had to meet a girls parents before and two, he’s never been brought home as the boyfriend before. Third and final, your father is just a little intimidating, just a little imposing at about 6’1 with the burly muscles of a former athlete. Add to that that he’s been to jail before and yeah… Gareth Emerson is very intimidated, very nervous.

He’s been standing on the step for nearly a minute, working on pulling himself together. He knocks and the door is thrown open by Max. He can hear the sounds of a race full blast on the television and Max nods to your closed bedroom door.

Inside the bedroom, you are frantically trying to at least clean a little so that Gareth doesn’t take one look at the space and realize he might just be dating an actual gremlin or something like that. You don’t hear Max when she calls your name over the full blast sound of your radio. Out in the living room, Max nudges Gareth and nods to your closed door. “She really likes you. She never even tries to clean her room, man.”

Gareth chuckles. But Max’s statement kind of sticks with him and as he lingers in the hallway, he’s smiling to himself just a little more.

“Go on, she’s not gonna mind.”

You’re just about to try tossing a heap of clothing into your closet when you turn and find yourself body to body with Gareth. And you’re blushing. Gareth’s eyes dart around, taking in the chaos that is your bedroom. The books all over the place, candles everywhere, posters for movies ranging from horror movies he recognizes to some movie he’s never even heard of but the poster has a black Trans Am similar to your car.

The stuffed animals on your bed have him chuckling and you biting your lip and fidgeting as you try to stand so that you’re blocking his view, pouting at him as you lightly swat at his chest. “Hey!”

“It’s cute, baby.” Gareth is quick to reassure you and it really does help. You know Wes is only teasing because he’s your dad and he loves you, but he’s forever giving you shit about your softer side because he’s just not the best at being a girl dad.And you love him to pieces, but these are facts.

You smile a little. “Smart answer, baby. Because they weren’t going anywhere.” you gaze up at him when you say it. He laughs and shrugs.

He spots your crossbow and picks it up, a brow raised.

All you do is shrug. “Wes, he ah.. He got it in his head a few years ago that he was going to take up hunting. Apparently, this meant that I, too, was going to pick it up. So we both got crossbows, we both learned to use said crossbows and now they just kind of sit around. Because ultimately, when he realized that hunting involved sitting outside in the cold and hours of waiting, he couldn’t be bothered.

“Yeah, remind me not to make you mad near this.” Gareth is teasing and you shrug, laughing softly. “To be fair, my aim is probably shit. I haven’t shot it in like.. Four years now?” you’re shuffling your feet against the thin carpet. “As you can see, I’m a mess. I was uh.. I tried to clean it up.” and you’re laughing softly. Gareth just shrugs. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh yes, yes I did. Trust me, before I did it was at least fifteen times worse.” you sweep your arms out to gesture at the chaos and disorder of the pale pink room you stand in the middle of and Gareth shrugs. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

You hear your father booing a commercial and you grab hold of Gareth’s hand. You give him a reassuring smile because you can feel the tension rolling off him and you laugh softly. “Will you relax? He’s going to love you, okay?”

Gareth nods and swallows hard because he’s just not sure how this will go. He’s never been brought home by a girl to meet her parents. And he’s not entirely sure how to handle it now that he is. But it means so much to him that you want him to, it just further reassures him that you really mean it, that you really want to be his girlfriend and this won’t wind up hidden or something in a few days when school starts back.

You’re leading him into the living room, standing in front of the tv. Wes is nursing a Pabst and he looks from you to Gareth. You have a split second where you’re silently focusing all your will on Wes not playing to his inner antagonist tonight and scaring Gareth so much that he doesn’t want to come back around and you relax when your father nods and holds out a beefy and tattooed hand. “You the drummer? She’s always talking about you, kid. It’s nice t’ finally meet ya.” Wes rubs his chin and nods to you, “Gotta admit, I thought maybe she was makin y’ up, kid.”

“Oh my god, Wes!” you pout at your father. You can feel your face flame up and you palm your face. “Dude, that was not fair.” you pout at him. He chuckles and shrugs off the pout. “Your mama wasn’t a glassmaker, lil bit. Daddy can’t see the race.”

You step out from in front of the television and Wes chuckles. “It’s nice to meet you, kid. I’d tell y’ to treat her like a princess but I know my lil bit and I feel like maybe I should tell y’ good luck with that instead.” Wes is teasing you again and you stick out your tongue at him, shaking your head. “I’m not that bad, Wes, what the hell is today? Pick on trouble day?”

“Just have to have a little fun with you, lil bit. So, what are you two up to today?”

“We’re going to the mall. They put out that horror movie I’ve been dying to see, finally.”

“See if Max wants a lift, would ya? She’s too young t’ be bikin all over, especially by herself.” your father nods to Max’s bedroom door as he gives you a grin.

“Yeah, I’ll ask.” you smile. You know what Wes is up to, you can almost sense it in his smirk. And since things are going reasonably well, you walk back to Max’s room to ask if she wants a lift anywhere since you’re about to leave.

And out in the living room, Wes chuckles, gazing at where Gareth is standing as he nods to the sofa. “Grab a seat kid, you’re makin me nervous with the hovering.” Gareth sits down on the end of the sofa and he’s staring intently at his hands. This situation being new to him and your father being intimidating, he’s not about to risk saying anything that might make your father dislike him.

He’s surprised when Wes glances back. “Trouble’s gon’ kill me but… you wanna see some cute but embarrassing shit, kid?”

Gareth nods and Wes grabs a photo album from a cheap and sagging entertainment center and holds it out to him. “Go on, it’s okay, kid. She’s gonna strangle me, not you.” Wes laughs and adds with a smirk, “But I’m her father, I can embarrass her now and then.”

Gareth laughs and flips through the photo album, stopping on a photo of you being held by the bartender at the Hideout. Wes chuckles and nods to it. “Angel’s an old friend. Basically stepped in and saved me from fuckin up the poor kid entirely when her ma just bailed for Nevada.”

“She really loves you. She doesn’t think you fucked up.” Gareth muses, gazing at the older man with the graying braid and beard. Wes rubs his face and nods. “I know, just.. I was the last person who shoulda been trusted with a kid back then, man, let alone a daughter.”

Gareth doesn’t say it, but he’s thinking to himself that maybe being your father helped you a lot. Because you’re not like most girls he knows, you’re not fake and you didn’t immediately become a bitch when you got in with a popular set of people. You’re really independent and he finds this really hot and infuriating at times in equal measure. And now that he’s seeing your softer side, he really thinks that your father should give himself a lot more credit.

But what floors him is when Wes adds quietly, “I really like you, kid. And I know she does too. Even if sometimes, she doesn’t say it a lot. She’s more of an actions person, ‘kay? Just between us men.” he’s trying to reassure Gareth that you do really seem to like him a lot and that he knows you well enough to know that whether Gareth realizes it or not, he’s become one of the few people you really let in.

He’s saying it as your father, in the hopes that you don’t wind up getting hurt for it later down the line.

Because as your father, he knows this is the first time you’ve really gotten attached to a person like this.

You spot the photo album on the table between your father and your boyfriend and you palm your face as you glance at your dad. “Seriously, Wes? You seriously show him all that shit? Why?”

Wes chuckles and shrugs. “Seemed like a good idea at th’ time, trouble. You’re flustered, so it amuses me.”

“Ugh!” you’re pouting. Shaking your head and your face is hot. You’re just hoping to hell Gareth didn’t get to the latter part of the photo album because when your awkward phase hit, it hit you hard. Like ten rounds in the ring with Muhammad Ali. And it didn’t actually let up until the tenth grade.

“We’ll be back around like.. 10? 11?” you tell your father as you shove your keys into your pocket. Wes chuckles. “That works. Call if the movie runs over or something, kid. Take the tool kit! That damn car’s been iffy as hell lately!” your father calls out to you as you practically drag both Gareth and Max out the door of the trailer.

“I can literally die, right now. I can’t believe he showed you that.” you’re laughing and shaking your head. Gareth chuckles and shrugs. Smirking as he opens the door of the car up and nods to it, holding out his hand for your key.

“Excuse?” you’re pouting at him. Gareth laughs. “I’ll drive, alright, baby? You drive like you’ve got a thousand lives to spare.”

“I do not!”

“You actually kinda do.” Max pipes up from the backseat.

“You hush! You were okay with it when I was doing that burnout in the parking lot last week.”

“Yeah, because you made that stupid idiot frat boy choke on his words. But you behind the wheel is kind of scary.” Max laughs when she says it and you flip her off. “You got jokes today, do ya?” you’re teasing, laughing at her. “We’re supposed t’ be sisters, kid.”

You pout at them both but you place the keys in Gareth’s hand.

As you’re driving into town, Gareth chuckles. “It didn’t go as bad as I was thinking it would.”

You smile and nod, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you he only looks scary. He’s an actual giant baby.”

Gareth nods and laughs, the remainder of his tension back at your house melting away with the speed of light. You lace your fingers through his and lean back against the seat a little. “Max, did you want to go to El’s house or with us?”

“With you guys if it’s okay? El said she’d meet me there, Hopper is bringing her.”

You smile and nod. “Duh, of course it’s okay.”

She smiles at you.

As you’re getting out at the mall, Gareth slips an arm around your waist and you lean into his side as you walk in through the entrance. When you spot Caroline and her two friends, you roll your eyes. Gareth tenses, because he’s just spotted Andy, Chance and Patrick.

You pick up on the tension and you glance up at him, leaning against him even more. “Relax, okay? Just don’t let them get in your head.” and Gareth nods, but old habits die hard and he’s struggling with something right now. The little nagging doubt that somehow, they’ll get in your head and everything will be over.

“I mean it, baby. Don’t let them get in your head.” you repeat quietly, cuddling against him even more. “I want you. I mean that. You’re too easy to read, alright? I know what you were thinking just now.”

“Okay, alright. I’m just, ah.” he chuckles, biting back a groan as you melt against him and gaze up asking softly, “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m not used to this.”

“Me either. But it’ll be okay. You just can’t let them get in your head, baby.” you reassure him, raising up to plant a kiss against his lips and he deepens it. Max grumbles from nearby and you stick out your tongue at her as the little kiss breaks. She’s spotted El, so she takes off in that direction and you laugh. “Like she’s got any room to grumble, the amount of times I’ve walked in on her with Sinclair all cozied up together on the couch in the living room.”

Gareth snickers about it and nods. You gape at the line still left ahead of you. “We could wait until another night to see this. I mean, we’re never gonna get a ticket at this rate, people keep jumping the line.” Gareth laughs and nods. “We could.”

“C’mon. Let’s just like.. Wander around.” you’ve grabbed hold of his hand and he laughs, nodding.

The mall isn’t his favorite place but being there with you makes it just slightly better.

#gareth emerson #gareth the great #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson fanfiction #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader

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