#this au is so genius ugh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrollohearttags · 4 months

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AU where y/n and producer eren were very much high school sweet hearts, then years later deciding to take their relationship to the next level as in losing their virginity 🙃

ANONNN, why’d you do me like thissss?? This is genius 😫 not even to spoil but this was literally the alternate plot line to reverb LSLFKFJ. Ugh this is just too damn cute so ofc imma talk about it.

content + themes: both reader and eren are virgins, reverb spoilers, lots of sweet stuff, bc I can’t handle angst rn, gentle sex/smut, accidental cream pie, this is SUPERRRRR long bc y’all know I love detail and got 20,000 pages of lore for these two!! Smut is at the end so if ya’ll can’t wait, I’m sorry.

eren left home at what would be considered incredibly young by most standards. At fifteen years old, he found himself frequenting the mall and playing basketball down at the local park in the suburbia of Montclair, New Jersey to being thrust into the fast paced lifestyle of Miami, Florida. The harsh, crime ridden town known as Opa Locka to be exact. A complete contrast by a long shot. Even so, with spite and determination on his heart; fueled only by his desire to win this illustrious battle called the rap game, he toughed it out and persevered. Not only that, to rid himself of the toxic past that had scarred him and a family who betrayed him. Make no mistake, his ‘privileged’ upbringing was nothing more than a mere experience and not a part of his identity. He never tried to pretend that he was ‘hard’ or tough, no need for a facade, he was simply Eren and that was all it took. He also never viewed anyone as different or beneath him because of how he grew up. Most of his friends back home came from very humble beginnings and had less than savory lifestyles. It wasn’t something he did for shock value or to piss of his parents. He just always had a knack for befriending others who may have been cast aside or forgotten about because he knew the feeling quite well. So it came as no surprise when he enrolled in the local high school to finish out his last couple years, he was a rarity in these parts…looking and acting completely different from everyone else. But it didn’t take long for the green eyed brunette with the buttery smooth voice and oblivious charm to assimilate.

“Wassup, EJ?” “Hey, EJ!”

from the classroom to the hallways, he was greeted by his fellow student body, who at first, saw him as an easy target. Alluding to the fact that he must’ve been some rich boy stuck in the middle of the hood to be “taught a lesson” or something of the sort. That it wouldn’t be two weeks because he was tucking tail and getting his ass back on the first bus to Jersey. Little did they know, he was the last person to back down and damn sure the last one to run from anyone! During gym class, there was a scrimmage basketball game, nothing too serious or exerting, just a little fun competition. It was then that not only did Eren catch the eye of the boy’s team head coach and that of (y/n) (l/n). Who had been discreetly seated against the wall after running two miles. You had been quietly observing the game and having grown up around tremendous players; spending afternoons down at the Boys and Girls Club..you recognized talent from a mile away. That also could’ve been attributed to the fact that you were the current co-captain of the majorette team, where you danced during games. Even so, you always stayed to yourself. Never really clinging to one group or another, truthfully only talking to your best friend. Your head in a book and studying was your only focus. That much was apparent by your four point two grade point average. Nonetheless, this new boy couldn’t help but to grab your attention. It was unfortunately for that reason, that his opponents once the game ended, would use that to his advantage.

not exactly keen on the idea of having somebody like him strutting around..besting them in a sport they’d always exceeded at and intriguing the girls who never even so much as paid them attention, they were pissed! So as anyone with stunted emotional maturity would, they decided to try and ambush the new student in the locker room. Granted, he was a little smaller and had just hit six foot one inches. He was fairly tall but still lanky and skinny. So he’d have his work cut out for him. Unsuspecting of the attack, he chopped it up with classmates and laughed on his way back. But not without flashing you a glance first. That ultimately made your heart flutter a little..you didn’t pay attention to boys often and had many speculating that you were possibly gay but no one had ever roused your fancy. In a way, you envied him. As someone from the proverbial ‘other side of the tracks’, who was different from you all in any facet was fitting in just fine! Quickly becoming the talk of the school. Meanwhile, you were a lifelong resident of this city and yet, you never drew any attention on yourself. Outside of your impeccable dancing. Hell, everyone always referred to you as ‘the quiet girl’. A moniker that you were proudly..the less you spoke, the less trouble you could find yourself in.

however, that peaceful life would come to an end when you’d walk towards the girls locker room and find yourself stopped by the gaggle of guys who were planning their ambush for after school whilst he was walking home. They figured he’d be an easy lick but they couldn’t be too relaxed. He mystified them all..acting completely oblivious to his environment, never behaving differently; talking exactly the same and all or even seeming afraid. He was the same person regardless of where he went. So that’s when they’d try to enlist your help. “Aye, (y/n). Lemme talk to you right quick..” waving you over and although you were about to ignore him, you accepted anyway. A tall dread head with a bottom row of golds gleaming from his mouth. Something he wasn’t supposed to have but did anyways. “I seen you looking at jit earlier, you like white boy, don’t you?” Immediately feigning any sort of confirmation. Acting uninterested as always. “That’s what you called me over here for? I gotta go change—“ but before you could coldly turn on your heel, he’d grab your shoulder and request a ‘simple’ favor:

“Help us set his ass up. He ain’t been here a whole month and already actin’ like he run this shit. We’ll even give you a cut.” but again, you didn’t care! Him or any of their petty jealousy was none of your concern. That boy hadn’t said the first word to you or even bothered you in the slightest. The hell did you look like conspiring with these dumbasses to not only bully him but to tarnish your hard work? Smacking your lips, you’d merely brush his hand away and continue to walk by. “As my granny says, you can’t get blood from a turnip. If you wanna risk jail for some stupid shit, do it by yourself. I’m not interested.” truthfully, Eren was no more wealthy than anybody here. Working odd jobs after school and rooming at a boys home on the southside. Hell, he could barely even afford lunch sometimes!

but alas, this only seemed to enrage your peers. See, the ring leader was the current basketball team captain and a shoe-in for first draft to a top college once he graduated. However, there was another side of him..a hothead with a bit of a past. Selling drugs and hanging with bad crowds..a mere product of the environment. But basketball was his ticket out. Hence was, considering that he stayed in trouble, grades were a wreck and he had a bad reputation. It was his exceptional skill that was keeping him in his spot and that alone. The coach overlooked a lot of his antics just to have a star player. Nothing new. However, with Eren on the scene, his position was threatened. Contrary to his belief, it had less to do with his skin and the fact that he was a better player with less of a headache! He had better grades, better manners and a lot more skill. Teachers constantly complained to the coach to kick him off the team so he could focus on his academic studies. Several calls were made home with no answer from parents..it was a crazy situation. Even so, it was no excuse for his behavior. Almost everyone here came from hard circumstances, he just loved acting this way!..especially when it came to preying on the weaker..

“Oh I see, you gon’ take his side but not mine? You green as hell, (y/n). Some ol’ weird ass shit, bruh. You really not tryna’ help me?…” even getting closer, despite your pushback. “Darius, imma tell you one more time. Leave me alone. Ion want no parts of this. It’s not my business.” But before you could do anything else, he’d grab your wrist and pull you back. A cliche if you had ever seen or experienced one. But just as the old time tale went, your knight and shining armor would swoop in to defend your honor.

“I think she said leave her alone.”

a familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard often but enough to recognize. The reason behind this whole ordeal..

“Wasn’t nobody talking to you. Mind your business.” “This is my business. Putting your hands on a girl..I see your sorry ass jump shot ain’t the only thing that’s weak.”

which only pissed him off even further. Long story short, he’d attempt to pick a fight with the ever so sly Eren but to no avail. He wasn’t taking the bait. Not out of fear but because he wasn’t worth the energy. Eren was a bit of a hothead, even admitting so himself. However, he couldn’t afford to screw up right now. Getting into unnecessary fights would only put him in an even worse situation..especially for the people caring for him. He had done that once and wasn’t about to let it happen again. “(Y/N), right? That’s your name?..” answering him with a nod. “Don’t worry about him. You go ahead, beautiful. He won’t do anything..I can promise you that.” Standing toe to toe with the taller bully. His cheeks puffed up and fuming in rage. Meanwhile, Eren wore nothing but a smirk. He could fume all he wanted but as long as he didn’t put his hands on him. If he took it there, then he’d be glad to show him why trying him wasn’t wise..

luckily, the coach noticed the bubbling scuffle and told them to break it up. Fast forward a few days, give or take and you’d see Eren around campus. Always carrying a pair of headphones and a notebook. Two things he’d never be caught without. One thing was for sure, he was an intriguing dude for sure..you’d eventually find yourselves paired up for a project and needless to say, you were incredibly nervous. Mainly because neither of you had spoken since that day in the gym. It wasn’t for a lack of you being thankful, you just didn’t know what to say. That was until you were in the library doing research together and you’d blurt out your gratitude, along with your apology. Which made him laugh! “What are you thanking me for? He only did that because of me. If anything I should apologize to you.” He was so respectful and bashful, qualities you truly admired. Although he remained shrouded in mystery, he was fascinating and you wanted to know more about him and turns out, you’d learn a pretty interesting tidbit of information! “You have a point. I mean, are you really planning to take his spot as captain though—“ which only further fueled his hysterics. He’d double over laughing and all you could do was give him a look of confusion. “Why are you laughing? I ain’t that funny.” “I’m sorry. I just..listen, I don’t know what you were told but I don’t want his spot. Basketball’s fun, it’s sum’ to do but I already know what I want.” And his answer would shock you, truly. See, Eren had always had an affinity for music. Singing, playing all sorts of instruments since he was a little kid and recently, he’d taken to writing his own songs. That infamous notebook he carried? Filled with poems and songs about everything from basic lines to his deepest emotions. Spilling his heart onto the page as he talked about his family, his anger towards his father and even the loss of someone he held dear to him. Sometimes, they weren’t about him at all..they were just vivid portrayals of elusive tales. He obviously had quite the story to tell but he couldn’t do it or even have the time shooting balls into a hoop. He told the coach he’d consider but his true goal?

“You wanna be the drum major?!” “Yeah, why not? I mean, I know it’s prolly lame but it’s one of my favorite instruments. It was the first one I learned..to me, the drum line is the highlight of the game. They make it entertaining.”

but little did he know, he had piqued your interest for sure! You were so flustered you tried to feign it off but he was too freaking cute! Here you were expecting this athletic, cocky playboy who only cared about girls and being popular but he was so much more than you expected! A nerd just like you. And you knew so for the fact that you’d never held a conversation with a man longer than to give them the answer to a question or let them borrow a textbook. He was so captivating. But perhaps, getting to do incredible solos at halftime wasn’t his only motivation to join the school music program. He had other reasons as well..

“Besides..I would actually get to see you perform. I call it a win.” Causing you to scoff, dismissing his seemingly perverted comments.. “Oh, so you just like everybody else.” but the tension was misplaced. He admired your craft and respected it. Seeing you doing your moves while walking past the gym on his way home, how hard you worked and just overall how graceful you looked. Not to mention, you were drop dead gorgeous! The prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on.. “..I seen you practicing the other day and you’re really good, (y/n). You’re completely different when you’re dancing. You seem really happy..I mean, you make the dance team from my school back home look like stiff ass robots.” Earning his first giggle out of you. From that day forward, a beautiful friendship blossomed..studying together, eating lunch in the library, walking home with you as his group home wasn’t far away, sneaking into the chorus room so you could hear him playing the piano and singing. A privilege reserved strictly for you. Making you sob when you heard his rendition of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Ribbon In The Sky.’ He was so kind, sweet and it didn’t take long before rumors of you guys dating began to permeate through the school. Hallway whispers of you ‘going with that new boy’. It was all the rave. It didn’t help matters any when at the mention of each other’s names, you’d both freeze up like popsicles! It was adorable, really. A budding crush that would soon bloom into something far more than just a platonic bond. After about six months into his arrival at your school, Eren had undoubtedly made a name for himself for not only his basketball skills but his musical ones as well. He had made good on his promise to join the band and make his first step toward becoming drum major. Because the band and majorette team often performed together, you’d be together at practice also and eventually, became inseparable. Flashing you smiles and watching intently while you performed your solos. Him joining proved to be a great addition to an already powerful band because he was so talented and kept up quite nice. In no time flat, he mastered the quads and studied underneath the current drum major, playing at games. Even when he decided to cave and accept the offer to join the basketball team, he had the pleasure of seeing you dance during intermission and even greeting him after the game with a giant hug. You in your shimmering leotard and him in his drenched basketball uniform.. number nineteen printed on the back.

“You looked good out there, princess.” A name he affectionately called you because your team’s competitive name were the Crowned Royalty as your school mascot were knights. And because you often times outshined the reigning captain, you were dubbed “The Princess.” Besides, it sounded so much better coming from him. “Nah, that was all you, Mr. Star Player.” It didn’t take long before he’d do the one thing everyone had been waiting on and ask you to be his girlfriend! With encouragement from his teammates and homeboys, Connie Springer and Onyakopon. They too treated you like a little sister, always teasing you and making sure you were good in Eren’s absence. “You one of us so we gotta make sure you good.” They all worked together at a local shoe store and stayed only three houses down from one another so they spent a lot of time together. In addition to their shared passion and talent with music. Granted, neither of you had experience with dating or having many friendships for that matter but it felt so natural when you were around each other. His cheeks flushed with red the entire time he held your hand on the way to class. Your entire body trembling when he kissed your forehead because you were too scared to kiss on the lips at the time. Even sitting next to him and his friends at lunch was an experience. Listening to them freestyle and make beats. Your best friend Niesha, right beside you, teasing you about how cute your man was and how you’d gotten lucky. And all you could do was shake your head. Eventually, all five of you became thick as thieves. Hanging out after school, going roller skating on weekends when practice permitted and just stayed in your own little bubble. You loved it so much. It was the first time you’d ever had a friends’ group, a true support system.

your grandmother and sole caretaker since you were a kid was absolutely thrilled to see it. Although you called her your best friend, she was happy to see you coming home excited to tell her about something besides a book or your report card. As proud as she was of her baby, she wanted you to experience life. Often times, she’d invite all of them over and cook you all large meals that were nothing short of heaven! Repayment for the boys coming by to mow the grass or help with repairs. They were more than thrilled to do it. “My future grandson in law is a nice young man, ain’t he?” A statement you’d brush off with a smack of your lips. “Cut it out, granny. Ain’t even like that.” She adored Eren and when she learned that he could sing, knowing a few gospel songs as well..she all but claimed him now! He was family and you were so glad that he was in your life. A likewise feeling because for once, he felt as if he belonged. One night, while meeting at your usual spot in the park, high on top of a jungle gym where you’d gaze under the stars, you’d ask him one thing:

“You ever thought about what you want to do with your life?”

and to him, that answer was simple. “..I wanna change the world.”

a dream he’d held onto for as long as he could remember. He loved music more than anything and he wanted his to transcend any genre, any one archetype. He wanted what he created to someone’s reason for living, someone’s inspiration to keep going even when things got dark. He wanted it to put smiles on the faces of people who listened..he didn’t care about awards or being some mega celebrity, he just wanted to pour his heart into what he made and hoped somebody heard his passion.

“And I want you right beside me…(y/n). I don’t wanna do any of this without you.” Clutching your hand atop the structure. He had never been this vulnerable or open with anyone in his life but now was a good of time as any to start.. “..I know everybody prolly thinks I’m some spoiled rich kid who left home just to piss off my folks. Honestly, their opinions stopped meaning anything to me a long time ago..my mom, I love her so much and I really do miss her. I hope one day I can step to her as a man and apologize for putting her through so much. Making her worry about me…” as he spoke, you could feel the tension in his hand as he squeezed yours. This was the first time he’d spoke in detail as to why he was alone down here in such a dangerous city when he by all accounts lived lavishly back home. “I just couldn’t stay..not when my own old man is a fucking coward. I know it’s a long shot but at least I can stand on it. Him? He’ll sell his soul for a dollar. I could never be under the same roof as someone like that. I will do this and I’ll prove him wrong. I’ll make a way for myself so I never have to depend on anybody ever again.” You couldn’t help but to feel that you were missing part of the story but maybe it was something far too traumatizing to hash out in detail right now so as you’d always done, you’d support him. Cradling your arms around him with a giant hug before kissing his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you, Eren. I promise. I know you’ll make it and I wanna be right there by your side. I love you.” “I love you too, (y/n).” Words that sounded insane from a teenager but you meant it. Meant it more so than anything you’d ever said! Some people would say you were too young to know what you wanted but you both knew that no matter what path you took, as long as you walked it together, you were unstoppable!

soon, graduation was right around the corner. You two attended prom together, even made homecoming king and queen and by all accounts, had an amazing senior year! You guys turned eighteen only a couple months apart and thus, were thrusted into adulthood. Working here and there to provide for yourselves all while chasing your dreams. You’d gotten accepted into the University of Miami on a dance scholarship and even though it was a huge opportunity..your heart was misplaced. You felt like another cog in the wheel and a moving piece on a machine. You’d love to dance your entire life but you wanted something more than this. Stiff eight counts and bland rehearsals. Something refreshing..that’s when you’d begin taking pole classes outside of school! An idea you came up with after seeing a popular dancer on Instagram and she looked so graceful..surrounded by plants with her beautiful afro as she swung around the pole. She looked so free!…you wanted to experience that joy too. It took no time at all for you to master the craft and just like that, your spark was reinvigorated. By this time, Eren was all but halfway to his own goal after going viral for singing in the store he worked at and still very much an important fixture in your life. He managed to catch the eye of one of the industry’s top executives and legendary musician herself, Vivian James. She was one of your grandmother’s favorites, despite being younger than her. This woman had a powerhouse of a voice and needless to say, Eren’s had her intrigued.

“You did it, ‘ren. I’m so proud of you, baby!”

although he hadn’t quite made it yet it was one hell of a start. It wouldn’t be easy but he was willing to put in every bit of the work it took to succeed. Having you there to encourage him would be all the strength he needed to keep going. But he wanted to support your dreams as well! He never wanted this relationship to be one sided. “What about you, princess? Do you really like dancing for the school? Are you happy?” If anyone could see through the facade, it was your boyfriend of almost three years. He saw how amazing you were when you did pole. It didn’t matter which avenue of dance you took, you excelled but he’d never seen you more happy than when you were twirling midair and doing all these crazy stunts. He wanted you to be safe, of course, but he wanted to find joy in something the way he did. “I just..I don’t want to do what everyone else is doing or what they expect of me. I loved majorette but pole is just so different. I have so much fun.” There it was, a glimmer in your eye that couldn’t be sated when you spoke about it. The rush you felt setter coming down from a death drop. Eventually, you’d go on to quit the dance team, forfeiting your scholarship but your grades alone afforded you many other grants and things so you’d do online classes while working for your uncle’s shop and practicing under his wing. Eventually you found the courage to upload yourself online and it wasn’t long before you reached your own bit of notoriety. Captivating thousands with not only your skills but your stunning looks. Eren always called you princess but honestly, you were like a divine being. A goddess and sometimes, not even he could believe you were real.

before either of you knew it, you were nearing twenty and your dreams were falling into place. It seemed as if the hard times and rainy days both of you had gone through were over. You were so ecstatic when he got his own place, after securing and successfully completing an audition with AMG. The biggest talent agency in the country. Along side his two best friends nonetheless and eventually asked you to move in with him. But it wasn’t the only proposal he had. No, there was something else he needed to ask you..so with trembling hands, tearful eyes and in the same empty park where you’d spend countless nights talking about your futures; surrounded by faux candlelight and roses, he’d ask the one thing you never thought you’d hear:

“Will you marry me, (y/n) (l/n)? Will you do this forever with me?”

and it was no question! The answer was yes, a million times over! That night, the two of you exchanged intense, heavy kisses and warm, inviting touches underneath the moonlight of your very first place. A one bedroom apartment but it didn’t matter. It felt like a castle; an unreal fantasy when you had him. You’d let him caress and run his hands along your body. Kissing and licking your neck on the frameless mattress as your nude bodies entangled in the white sheet covering them. Neither of you had ever done anything like this before and although you were nervous as all hell, you were ready. Ready to take this next step. When you were in school, so many other kids were already going the extra mile and some had even fallen pregnant by the time you graduated. But your love was so pure and innocent, sex seemed like a foreign concept. It was the furthest thing from your minds. You enjoyed being around each other. The feeling you derived just from when he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest with a kiss to your forehead. You never felt pressured to lose your virginity because you knew that a moment like this would make it all the more special and that he’d be the only one you’d share it with. So in that moment, Eren moved his tongue down your body, kissing and marking your neck with a trail of sloppy pecks. Your hands trailed up his back that had now been stamped with his first tattoo. His hair..that once tapered brown haired cut was dangling in front of your face as half of it remained tied into a bun. He had often dreamed about what this moment would consist of..how it would feel to be given the flower of his beloved. To ‘pop’ your cherry and have the honor of being your first and vice versa. Would he hurt you? Would he fuck it up? His only true goal was to know that you were feeling good. He didn’t want to sound like a weird degenerate but his only experience was through videos and his hand. And yours? He was scared! So terrified that you had to grab his shoulders and tell him to breathe as he was trembling when he began to touch your sensitive center.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just us here…take your time. You’re doing so good..”

only backed up when he slowly circulated his fingers around on your clit and watched you writhe in pleasure. Whimpering and crying out his name. It was so slippery and juicy but he assumed that was a good thing from the way you rutted your hips and pushed down on the single digit that he put inside of you. “Oh my God…Eren that feels so good!..” “It does? I’m so glad, baby.. can I keep keep going, like that?” Watching you break into a smile as your eyes squeezed shut was as close to nirvana as he could get. He loved seeing you happy. Breathing heavier and begging for more when you added another and stimulated you even more. You were so incredibly tight that he was sweating bullets, wondering how he’d be able to fit inside of you. How could he top this moment?…carefully examining your body; that gorgeous skin, those perfectly round breasts that had grown exponentially since he’d first met you, dark nipples erect and drenched in his saliva as he kissed them softly and those curves that had only filled out in all the right places. He wanted to adore this beautiful body forever..make love to you until he perfected it. Until he could know every bump, line and curve that made up your frame. So much so that even in absence, you’d crave one another and no one else could ever fill that void. He wanted to love you with his eyes closed. To know every tick, every like, dislike and point that made you explode with pleasure. He wanted to be yours in flesh, mind and spirit until you both left this earth.

eventually, you’d find yourself squirming around in the sheets and with his fingers alone, you’d reach your very first orgasm! The feeling was so indescribable, you couldn’t even speak. Only curse and flail around, which he thought was so cute. Chuckling as he pulled you to his chest with a cooing tone. “Aw, baby. It’s okay. There you go, just let it out.” Embarrassed by the fact that you let out a gentle stream of liquid, thinking you had actually urinated but it was the furthest thing from. “Trust me, that’s not what happened. It’s okay, beautiful.” Neither of you even gave a damn. All you wanted was to experience him in his entirety. You’d look down and see that his cock was stiff. Swollen, thick and glowing red at the tip. You’d never seen one in real life but by comparison, it was huge and you were so scared, your knees pushed together and began to buckle as you swallowed a large gulp, wondering how you were supposed to take all of that inside of you… “..we can go slow. We don’t have to fit it all at once. You just let me know how much you can handle, okay baby?” Seemingly trying to console you when he was all but losing his mind. Slowly but surely, his tip would make place atop your overly sensitive slit. Splitting open your folds with that puffy mushroom tip. Bright red and dripping with cum..he was so ready to make you his. “Eren…” hearing the nervous yet needy quiver in your voice made him twitch on his own but he’d merely chuckle, reaching down to stroke your face. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care you, okay princess? Here, hold my hands.” without hesitation, completing devoting yourself to him, you’d intertwine your fingers with his own as he integrated from the top to the inside of your warm center. Both of you broke into a high pitched gasp, never experimenting such a sensation before. It was truly like magic..

“Oh fuck..” the words escaping each of your lips as the same time, so much so, it made you and him break into a giggle. The realization of the moment setting on you both. “We’re actually doing this, huh?” “..yeah, but I wouldn’t want it with anyone else..” with that, he’d lean down and brush the side of your face as he began to buck his hips. “I’m gonna start moving, okay? You just let me know if I need to stop..” acknowledging his question with a nod, he’d persist forth and keep pushing. One slow stroke turned into two and before he knew it, he had established a rhythm. Being as gentle and doting as possible. That tight flesh sucking him in with each thrust but still not giving way..you’d squirm and whimper but all from pleasure. You’d claw at his sides and although your eyes were shut tight, you’d let him know that you were alright. Eventually, that room filled with soft cries and the two of you uttering each others names, along with lewd moans. “It’s..so good! Fuck…” “..please, keep moving..don’t stop, Eren.” Begging for more, despite the fact that his shaft had become coated in a very thin sheath of blood and a few tears trailed down your cheek. Signifying that he had finally unwrapped the gift that you’d waited so long for him to claim. The mattress began to jolt around and the floor underneath creaking from the sounds of your lovemaking. That red liquid soon replaced by a clear mucus and his dick nestled inside of you to the halfway mark. What felt like an eternity was in reality..only five minutes and already, he was about to tap out. Panting and breathing heavily as that pace sped up. His pattern was off kilter but he still had you clawing for the sheets, screaming his name. “Yes, baby! Right there, I can feel it again. I’m gonna—“ but before you could announce your own climatic peak, he’d beat you to the punch and without thinking or warning, he’d let out a loud cry, sobbing even and spouting expletives the entire time as a warm load filled your newly defiled cunt. He was in such shock, it didn’t even dawn on him until he’d look down and see it spilling out of you.

“I—shit. I wasn’t supposed to do that. I’m so sorry, (y/n)!” But it was fine. You trusted him so dearly, the two of you forgot any protection. Luckily, you had long been on birth control for reasons unrelated to sex so you weren’t scared. Besides, in that moment, all you knew was that you wanted more. You didn’t want this moment to cease for anything. “It’s okay, baby..I’m fine. Come here..” beckoning him towards you so you could get another one of those divine kisses. It was the best part. With you both having experienced that high for the first time, you didn’t want to come down so for the entire duration of that night, the two of you made love. Exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies. Laughing, kissing, touching and making blunders..the joy that could only come from true lovers. A long time coming certainly, but a moment nonetheless that was worth the wait. By the time you finished, you were both an emotional wreck. Crying but only out of pure rejoice. Having given yourself to the one man that you’d love for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Eren..”

“I love you more, (y/n)..”

and this time, there was no question, hesitation or doubt when those words were uttered. You were older now and for a flame that everyone was certain would die out, it was now burning brighter than ever.

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faerievampling · 1 month

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when i think of modern astarion i imagine his taste to be refined and vamperic-gothic (just copy paste really) so imagine his reaction when he visits his gf home and it very hyper-fem with plushies and saniro themed stuff everywhere 😭😂

I just know he'd say somthing sassy about it- some type of disapproval but oh well, guess he's taking you on your hello kitty bed sheets 🤷

(also making him wait before having sex cuz you need to turn your plushies around hahaha)

oh my fucking god i am…nearly speechless from this bc there is something so hot about this. i just love this dynamic. you’re a genius. this is 18+ NSFW

i have a confession, anon. I have a little bit of a panty fetish and imagine you’re wearing some of your cutest panties: they’re lacy, pink, possibly hello kitty or sailor moon themed. You might even forget you have them on, and when Astarion sees them for the first time…like, he definitely thinks they’re more adorable than he will ever admit. you find this out when he asks you to keep them on while he fucks you. He’ll just push them to the side, watching you squirm beneath him.

So Astarion catches on to your tastes…but when he goes to your house, totally speechless. I like to think he will respectfully listen when you tell him all the official names of your squishmallows (and the random nicknames they’ve earned along the way) but he’d probably just zone out and politely nod, really just thinking about bending you over and burying your face into your hello kitty sheets.

Don’t worry, in a few months, he will be thankful for all the giant pillows and plushies and comfortable things you have. You’ll totally see him zonked out on your couch curled up in your hot pink fuzzy blanket that you got on sale at Target.

my dirty mind is going to a very bratty Tav, and an Astarion who’s sick of her teasing and naughty antics. Ugh brat tamer Astarion…

oh. and Astarion with a corruption fetish. Banging you in your cute bedsheets, lightly chucking at you as you turn your plushies around.

modern au has so many possibilities…

#astarion x reader #astarion #astarion smut #faerievampling asks answered #modern au astarion

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 4 months

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College au! Rich, popular senior who is actually emotionless but uses a faux mask to hide the fact and does favors left and right, not because he's kind and considerate but because he doesn't see anyone else worth engaging with and the only way the get rid of them is through giving them what they want, like pesky leeches. Reader however saw right through his mask into his eyes and that surprised him. Someone other than his father knows?! Should he get rid of her? But.. oh? she wants something from him? A favour? How interesting..

-🌼

Yandere! Male! College student x Blockmate! Fem! Reader

Got a bit of mental exercise on this one, since what could the favor be? Hmm... Got a bit too nsfw though, so be warned. (BTW, is this spicy enough? I'm practicing lol)

Also, I decided to do some tweaks on our other yanderes, so expect relatives amongst yanderes now!

Yandere! College Student name: Alpheus

It was the third of January now, a lot of students have come back to the University in order to resume their classes. Some got blessed and has their classes to be continued by next monday, but not for this specific college.

"Ugh..." A person bemoaned to their friend. "What the hell is wrong with our Dean? Setting our return so early-- Does she have no sympathy?"

"You said it." Another person piped up. "We may be architecture students, but we're not machines!"

"Our course is hard enough without holidays bro. I just wish she let us enjoy the new years..."

"Don't you think so, Alpheus?"

Alpheus, a man who's soft and gentle. Prince-like, and someone you could rely on. He had many... Friends... As what other people see themselves when asking what their relationship with him is.

Too bad it's one sided though.

Alpheus hummed, his blank eyes that none of these guys noticed looked up to the sky.

"Well, doesn't it make sense? We finished our first semester 1st day of December. I think it's just fair for us to go back by the 3rd of January." Alpheus' almost ghost like quality of voice came out of his soft pink lips.

The friends, who were just complaining earlier, shut up from the logic he gave.

"Uh... I guess you're right."

"Well, it is a one month vacation..."

"Yeah, we got the better end of the stick."

"Other Unis only gave two weeks as vacation."

Alpheus gave a small smile to them as they murmured their suddenly new opinion due to his quips.

"This is exhausting..."

Nobody saw through his mask, the way he held so much indignant boredom he had in his eyes when they go up to him and talk. Nobody felt the way he seems so distant and plastic-y.

Maybe he got this acting skills from his brother, Ignatius.

Both of them are the opposite ends of the bar. Ignatius as the boisterous, annoying, attention seeking actor, and Alpheus, the hide-behind-a-facade, self-important, holier-than-though, plastic friend.

Well, that's what their parents describe them anyways. Too much of the old mindset gets you to be a pair of judgmental fuckers who think that mental conditions are not real, so they didn't get diagnosed if it's something to do with their psychology.

Alpheus grew up mostly being overshadowed by his brother, but is honestly shining more when it comes to academics. Making the attention between them fairly equal.

Like how their parents describe them, Ignatius is talented, while Alpheus is a genius.

That didn't make them less terrified on Alpheus though.

When he was a child especially, he looks so dead inside and unreadable that it freaked them out. Even contemplating on calling the exorcist.

Alas, they didn't at the risk of their family reputation to fall off.

Only Ignatius got him.

When Alpheus got older, he met more people who got freaked out by how apathetic and emotionless he is.

But, with the help of his brother, he learned how to put up a mask. Albeit just the barest of minimum, people got fooled somehow.

That, and Alpheus just goes with the flow most of the time.

Just to make them shut up, he always ends up doing favors and helps the people who ask for him to do something for them.

"People... Such a bother..."

At least they're tools for him to blend in seamlessly...

"By the way, Alpheus, is your mansion available on Sunday?"

Here they go again...

It's a never ending cycle for him.

"Why? Do you want to do a party there?" He asks gently, another soft smile on his face that made that person flustered.

"U-uh yes! I mean, the last pool party we did there was crazy."

It was crazy cuz all of you thrashed my damn mansion.

It's somehow of a blessing that his family is rich. He got to move out to a new place, his brother did too, and funded all of their lavish tastes. Even if it was a way to make them shut up and not interact with their parents, it gave them freedom to do the things they want.

"Why not? We need something to headstart us for the second semester anyways." And with a princely smile, he agreed to his friend's favor that made his friend group hoot and holler.

And as Alpheus keeps a steady smile yet an annoyed glare, he wishes for something to happen in that party to shut them up.

Music blazing, party raving, drinks boozing.

It's the party of the month for the students in the University Alpheus attended.

People cannonballing in the pool, couples and strangers making out (maybe more), stragglers drinking their way to being blackout...

And the owner of the mansion?

Alpheus sits down cross legged on the couch, being surrounded by his friends. The music is pounding against his ears and worsening his headache. But he also can't sleep in his room because he knows that no matter how thick his walls are, the music will still seep into his bedroom.

He takes a sip of the bourbon on his hand, his deep eyes scanning the crowd and the mess they made.

He almost groaned. This is gonna take a while to clean.

Sure, he'll hire people to clean, but his parents' will question where the money will go to, and they will nag to him about being upright and being a rebel and throwing parties and being a disgrace and being so content being a genius that he thinks he can just throw his parents' reputation to the mud--

Just thinking about it is making him exhausted.

He watched as the woman that latched onto his side trailed her finger on his exposed chest from unbuttoning his dress shirt. She was saying something flirtatious but honestly, he doesn't care.

The headache is becoming unbearable.

"Excuse me, people. I just need to get more." Alpheus gently laid off the woman before shaking the glass on his hand, the ice clinking around.

They all nodded with a smile before Alpheus went inside.

There are some people here. Singing karaoke, some playing beer pong... And others making out and grinding.

He got to the comfort room on the corner of the first floor and sighed, splashing water on his face as he let the water trickle down his throat.

He dropped his facade, staring at himself with the dead expression that people found chilling.

Sometimes, he just needs a breather.

And that breather is his home. But now, a party is going on and he needed a bit of break sometimes.

Hey, he's emotionless, not a robot that doesn't get exhausted.

Alpheus splashed water on his face once more before he heard the door to the toilet open.

A woman.

He remembers you. A classmate, one of the few people who doesn't talk to him and ask favors, so he automatically has a positive outlook on you. As positive a person can feel for being emotionless.

He nods, you didn't.

"Y/N, right?" He asks, quickly slipping on the facade. He smiled at you, donning the princely mask once more.

You weren't buying it though.

"Alpheus. What's up with you and putting up a front?"

His forearm bulged, the grip on the counter sink tightened as the veins pulsed across his arm.

Ah, he forgot. You have this inquisitive, curious, yet hostile look on your face whenever he catches you staring at him.

"What do you mean by that?" He smiled once more.

"You know what I mean."

He cleared his throat, dropping the act and turning towards you, not facing the mirror anymore.

"Look here, Y/N. It just so happens that I get tired sometimes." He shrugs. "Social battery and that."

"Bullshit." You spat out. "You don't even feel anything. You think I won't know? It's so obvious."

A dull feeling of irritation welled up inside of him. Uncommon, but not that new.

"Really now? So what?" Alpheus scoffs and crosses his arms. "What will you do? Expose me?"

His eyes sharpened a bit.

Should I get rid of her?

"No. I need a favor also." You smiled. He sighed.

"Shoot."

"Be my pretend boyfriend."

Alpheus blinked, tilting his head in wonder.

"Huh. That's new. And what do you need me for? Why do I need to do that?" He softly chuckles, thinking of reasons why. "Are you attracted to me and are finding a reason to get close to me? Possibly make me fall for you?"

He got close to you, bending a bit to stare at your eyes.

Were your eyes always this shiny? Such a juxtaposition of his dull, dead ones.

"Maybe you have this sick fantasy in your head that you can fix me." He chuckled again.

"No. That's weird." You scoffed and swatted him away. "Ex boyfriend problem. A stalker, won't stop following me around."

He hummed in contentment. He did remember seeing a man hovering around your angered/scared face.

"That I can believe. But why me, cheri?" He asked, intrigued by your favor. "There's a lot of people, and it's kinda suspicious if we suddenly became an item."

You took a deep breath, shaking your hands.

"Don't get mad, but I sprinkled some hints that I was interested in you. Making fake convos of us..." You flushed red and fished your phone out of your pocket and showing him the convos.

The pfp is the same, so does the name, but the way he types isn't the same. Clearly fake.

"I know, creepy, but..." You gripped your hand in awkwardness. "But the other guys aren't really the best options. He got them on a hold like he's friends with them. And you're the only one available that's not close to him. I also don't know other people outside our block."

Your grip tightened. "So help me, please?"

A man in a leather jacket seethed, not being able to find you.

"Where are you, Y/N!" He grumbled under his breath.

He lost you an hour ago, and he's already on his end's wits.

Especially you're in this mansion. Alpheus' mansion.

Sure, he didn't believe that you and Alpheus were a thing. It was impossible! There's evidences, but he doesn't want to believe it.

He gritted his teeth and opened another door but to only two people fucking.

"God, get a room!" He growled out before being hit by a pillow, being yelled at that 'this is a room!'

Slamming the door closed, he got to the corner where there is a door beside an end table with an expensive flower vase on top.

He gripped the knob and swung it open, and his eyes widened.

"Alpheus..."

"Cheri, just like that..."

You and Alpheus, making out. With you sitting on the counter as your crotches grinding against each other in a friction filled frenzy. With Alpheus' large hands and fingers gripping your soft skin on your waist, leaving red marks trailing across. Your legs, wrapped around Alpheus' waist, had the dress riddled up to your chest area, exposing your tasteful underwear.

Alpheus' lips trailed across your neck, opening slightly to lick the base before biting down. It made you throw your head back with a whimper so salacious that it made Alpheus buck into you once more.

The man felt cold and hot at the same time.

It was real?

You can't even hear that your ex has swung the door open. Drunk on the "pretend" makeout' pleasure that it gave you. You just knew he's in the house, but doesn't know when he'll find you.

So, Alpheus just made you sit on the counter and started kissing you gently just in case.

Who knew it would become a full, blown out session that left you breathless and Alpheus suddenly obsessed with this new feeling?

Alpheus' dead eyes was flashing with hunger and desire in them as he glared at your ex boyfriend.

And without breaking any eye contact, he gripped your waist more, with his hips grinding harder and his teeth sinking more to your skin, marking you his.

Saliva dripped from his lips to your skin, making it glisten under the dim light.

And with a smirk, Alpheus successfully drove out your ex.

Now, he could just stop.

But what's the fun in that?

For the first time, he's feeling such pleasure from you, and your body.

You felt divine in his hold, making it impossible to separate himself from your body as he gripped your thigh and carrying you up, pushing your back against the wall to continue making out, and maybe even more.

He can blame it on the alcohol, but he knows damn well it's not.

He felt... Happy for the first time. The overwhelming euphoria from this new encounter and discovering new feelings were making him drunk. And he's drinking it whole.

It's almost selfish on how he doesn't want to let go of you.

And, before he knew it, the seed has planted inside of him.

By the next days, he finds himself unable to separate from you as you continued to introduce new emotions inside of him.

He will wish to shackle you to him, and maybe do the same as his brother and kidnap his significant other.

He will feel overtly jealous for the first time, seeing you interact with his other male classmates. Especially that architecture is a male dominant field.

He will get angry, rage, and become crazy from the sudden influx of emotions running inside of him.

But that's in the future.

And as he watches you writhe from his hold as his fingers descended down under your panties, he knew that he would do anything to keep this feeling from fading.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

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komihoyinsblog · 15 days

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I need more fics and au where Kakashi is the fifth hokage. I've only seen one and it's 1/? and there are no chapters for a long time.

Let's be honest, the arc with Tsunade returning to the village is cool and important to the plot, but. Tsunade hasn't been to the village in 30 years, she hasn't been an active shinobi for the same amount of time and here she is returning as hokage. It's not like that. I'd like to see an au where Tsunade agrees to return to the village, but only as the head of the hospital. For the role of hokage, look for someone else.

Imagine a council of Konoha jonin, clan heads and so on. They're all thinking about who to make the hokage (just not Danzo). There are heated arguments, discussions that they should force Jiraiya or someone else. Shikaku's gaze falls on Kakashi, who is sitting quietly in a corner, trying to keep quiet so he won't be noticed.

Shikaku's eyes lighten up. A very strong shinobi, a genius even. A student of the fourth hokage, already a sensei and not the head of the clan (not like Inoichi, Shikaku and the others). Basically, a free guy.

Kakashi feels goosebumps and raises his head, meeting Shikaku's gaze. And that's it. A very heated discussion begins, Kakashi vehemently refuses and gives a dozen arguments. They give him two dozen in opposition. It's settled.

Kakashi is officially appointed the fifth Hokage.

Naruto is happy, Sakura is moderately happy too, everyone is relatively happy about it (except Danzo of course). After a while, the news reaches the Akatsuki hideout. Itachi is happy for his sempai, but Obito? Good question, it's his perennial sore subject - Kakashi is better at everything and gets what Obito would have wanted. Now he's fulfilled his childhood dream as well. What will Obito do next? Good question.

The story will take a different turn, huh. Kakashi won't go on missions to rescue Gaara and Sasuke with Naruto and won't have many moments I guess? Paine's attack arc will go differently too, maybe Obito will officially join the party. What about Madara's battle against the five kage? Ugh, so much to think about.

#naruto #obito uchiha #kakashi hatake #uchiha obito #hatake kakashi #naruto au #hokage kakashi #tsunade senju #tsunade #itachi uchiha #shikaku nara #sakura haruno #Godaime Kakashi #lol #poor guy

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effortandmore · 1 year

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worth all your while (ch.1) | knj x reader

summary: you know kim namjoon from your work, but running into him outside of seoul tips your relationship into new territory and your world upside down. eventually, you wonder how there can be a million ways to say "i love you," and namjoon, a literal genius, can't manage a single one when it comes to you. or: 5 times namjoon can't make himself say "i love you" but thinks you understand him anyway (you do not), and then the one time he gets it right

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, fluff, light angst, au: famous, but not an idol

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol, here are the specific smut tags for this chapter: kissing, penetrative sex, fingering, spanking, sex in an airport bathroom (do not recommend, fwiw)

word count: ~5.5k

a/n: idk what to say! i needed to write a fic for yoongi's birthday, but i can't for some reason, so i'm writing this. i hope you enjoy 💜 i'll update chapters probably weekly, maybe bi-weekly, isn't it fun when some things in life are mysteries? the title is from "static" by steve lacy - i love him. thank you as always to the cabal: @ugh-yoongi, @hot-soop, and @the-boy-meets-evil for putting your eyes on this for me. love you all. this is posted to ao3 here if you like to read fics there.

next chapter

Unpopular opinion: airports are magical places.

You didn’t always think that, but you’ve changed. Opinion swayed. All it took was one delay on a layover in London for you to start singing a different tune.

Seoul to anywhere feels like a long flight lately. You love it there, but getting out, back to where you’re from, takes literal days. The short break at Heathrow is welcome, a chance to move around a little before you get on another almost ten hour flight. It seems like a nothing thing, to wander through the concourses and shops after you’ve made it through the customs check. Each time you’re here is the same as the last. Until it’s not. You’ve done it a hundred times: sniff different scents at Jo Malone, look for a bag you shouldn’t spend the money on at Louis Vuitton, talk yourself out of buying duty-free scotch because you know you’d never drink it in front of your mother anyway… Maybe on the way home, you think (but you never do).

“Excuse me.” You’re staring at the Balvenie you can’t really afford, thoughts drifting, when someone startles you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side.

There’s a man there, right there. He’s stepped up close so that your arms are practically touching. He’s tall, with dark hair under a beanie, an expensive jacket that’s made to look like it isn’t, and his face hidden under a mask that isn’t required here. There’s something about him, even though you can only see a stripe of his face, that looks familiar. For some reason, neither of you move; he keeps staring at the thousand-pound bottle of scotch, and you keep staring at him.

“You can’t drink it on the plane, you know?” You say it more than you ask it, and of course he knows. Everyone knows. But you see the corners of his eyes crinkle a little and you think he’s smiling under the mask. He finally turns to look at you.

“Was thinking I’d get it as a gift,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nice gift,” you remark.

“Yeah…” he replies, turning his attention back to the bottle. “It’s pretentious, isn’t it?”

And at that, you smile. “Maybe a little. Depends on who it’s for.”

“No one special.”

“It’s none of my business,” you say, “but I wouldn’t buy ‘no one special’ a hundred-pound bottle of scotch, let alone a thousand-pound bottle.”

The man laughs, and you notice another guy walk up, right next to him. He’s bigger, older, and way too serious looking for your taste. They seem to have a silent conversation and then the would-be whisky buyer turns back to you. “Time for my flight,” he says. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime,” you nod, still smiling even though you can’t tell anymore if he’s smiling back. Can’t hurt to be polite.

After he goes, you realize you aren’t going to buy the scotch, either, and it’s probably about time for your flight, too, so you start the scramble to your gate.

One of the bad things about flying all the time is that you feel like you see more than your fair share of delays. And this trip is no different. When you make it to the gate, you can sense the panic before you even see the notification. There’s a particular brand of hysteria that sets in with people when their flights are delayed, and it’s amplified with inter-continental flights in your experience. All of the things that make airports romantic and interesting are the same things that make people think they can behave any way they want and it won’t matter. It's like upon entering, people think they get carte blanche to be raging assholes to the poor airline counter guy who’s just trying to make sure everyone gets where they’re going and probably only makes enough to barely pay his rent.

So, you know before you’re told that there’s a delay, and you can tell by the level ten panic around you that it’s probably a long one. It’s confirmed when you see the headlines across one of the large televisions at the gate. Big storm off the coast of the Eastern US. All flights are delayed from what you can tell. Yours looks to have a delay of about six hours, but you know from experience it could be more. You’ll just have to wait and see. You’re lucky, you want to get home, but there’s really not a huge rush on your end, so you can wait it out if you need to.

There’s a quiet spot at a gate with no pending flight, near yours and a few of the other gates with international flights scheduled to leave. You hate sitting, knowing you’ve done it for a half a day already and have another long flight (eventually) in front of you, but you don’t know what else to do and at least you have a couple books in your carry on.

Maybe thirty minutes passes of you reading when you look up, just to see how things are settling around you as people start to either (like you) become resigned to the fact that they’re not going anywhere for a while, or let their anger hit a fever pitch with the gate agent.

You see a familiar fancy jacket waiting near the ticket counter, his friend from earlier having an animated chat with a woman who doesn’t seem like she speaks enough Korean to be keeping up. Fancy Coat is watching, looking amused and not chiming in, even though you know firsthand he can speak English perfectly well, and could probably be a help to his travel companion.

Because you’re one of those people who can never do things as subtly as you think you do, you’re caught out—Nice Jacket turns his head and his eyes lock with yours before you can look away; he knows you’re watching. He tilts his head, eyes widening with what you hope is amusement and not terror that you were looking. Slowly, he brings his hand up and waves at you, then gives you a gesture like he wants you to wait for something before he leans in and says something to his friend.

You turn back to your book, embarrassed.

A considerable chunk of whatever willpower you have is used in Not Looking when you hear (and feel) someone plop into the chair next to you.

“Good book?” Nice Jacket asks.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, trying not to make things any weirder than you’ve already made them by staring. It is, in fact, not a good book. But your colleague wrote it, and he’s the special kind of narcissist that will ask you what you thought of it every day you see him until you provide some sort of satisfactory feedback kissing his ass.

“That guy’s a jackass,” he comments.

And that gets your attention. You turn to him, a little surprised. “You know him?”

Nice Jacket nods, eyebrows raised. “Do you not remember me?” he asks.

“From the duty-free shop?”

He laughs, louder than he means to judging by how he stops himself and looks around self-consciously. “No… I think you’ve interviewed me before…”

Things begin to snap into place rapidly. Because now that he says it, he goes from looking vaguely familiar to being instantly recognizable. You don’t really keep up with him or his music, but you have interviewed him, when your asshole colleague had passed one of his assignments to your desk, assuming you’d “like that kind of thing.”

At the time, you’d tried not to let yourself assume the worst about what he meant, and you did the interview over Zoom with no protest to your coworker or your boss. It wasn’t the kind of thing your magazine usually wrote about, but the article was focused on his art collection, and it gave you a good opportunity to learn something you wouldn’t have in a gossip magazine, and a chance to look good for your boss. The whole thing hadn’t lasted more than eight minutes, professional and easier than most of your interviews. Since then, you’ve been in the same room as him a few times at events you’d covered, exchanged greetings and appreciations on both sides for the article, and obviously, you know who he is.

He’s famous, but not like… idol famous. Stage name RM, he’s a rapper and producer who works with a small collective. You see him in magazines and on TV, his popularity growing over the last few years less for his music and more for his work in art preservation.

“Oh my god…” you say, closing your book and dropping your voice to a whisper. “Kim Namjoon. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Good,” he says with a wink. “That’s the point.” He gestures vaguely to his beanie and his mask and the sunglasses he took off when he sat down next to you.

“How are you?” you ask, because it’s polite, and that’s what you should do, even though you’re not even sure why he’s sitting here speaking to you.

“Alright,” he says, but you notice he seems a little amused.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He raises his hands defensively.

“No, what? Why’s it funny to ask how you’re doing?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a second, just watches you with his head cocked. “I guess no one ever really asks me that,” he says.

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

What’s more ridiculous is that you’re sitting in Heathrow having a conversation with this sort of famous person who you kind of know, but not in a “run into you in the airport and have a casual chat” kind of way. Or maybe it is like that, because that’s exactly what happens.

You talk about how he’s doing (pretty well but tired from traveling and ready to be settled in his hotel). Then you talk about your asshole coworker and his not-very-good book. You laugh at a story he tells you about said coworker, and you feel your face heat up when he says how relieved he was that you interviewed them instead of anyone else from your magazine, and how much he’d liked talking to you that day. He’s bluntly honest with you about his preference for doing interviews with Korean-language publications, which you completely understand. He tells you that he didn’t mind doing an interview for your small English-language one because you at least greeted him in Korean and tried out a couple questions in the language.

“It’s my job to make people feel comfortable,” you say flippantly. It’s true, it is your job, and you talk to a lot of sort-of-famous people and their people, so you know that at the end of the day, they’re just people. You get better results and better interviews when you treat them as such. When you tell Namjoon that, you can see him grinning under his mask, you can tell for sure this time by the way the corners of his eyes pinch.

“That’s a nice way to think of it,” he finally says. “It’s good to be treated like Namjoon and not RM sometimes.”

“Happy to be of service,” you say.

Before you can say more, you’re interrupted by his friend, who you now understand isn’t exactly a friend but a manager or a bodyguard or some combination of both. He explains that it’ll be a few hours, that there aren’t any other flight options, and that he and Namjoon can go make themselves a little more comfortable in the airport lounge. It’s spoken like a suggestion, but the way he side-eyes you as he speaks makes you certain it’s more of a directive. Namjoon nods along until his manager tells him, in hushed Korean, that he can’t just sit out in the open talking to strangers.

“She’s not a stranger,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

After a brief explanation that you’re an acquaintance (which is how Namjoon puts it and is a little more generous than you would have been), his manager lightens up, and even keeps his mouth shut when Namjoon invites you to come with them to the lounge. He does, however, insist on walking alongside you when you agree to go with them, making Namjoon walk a little ways in front of you both. Better safe than sorry, you suppose, even though no one seems to be paying any attention to the three of you.

At the lounge, his manager has a brief conversation with the airline employee at the desk, and then the three of you are whisked through the entrance, past the service desk and the bar, and into a small, private room at the back of the lounge. Namjoon puts his bag down and moves to the coffee machine, pausing to ask if you want anything as he fumbles with the stack of cups there. Cute. The professional in you hates that you even had that thought pass through your mind, but the rest of you doesn’t mind. He is cute, he gets paid to be cute (at least partially), he knows he’s cute. You have eyes, so obviously you see it, too.

His manager unceremoniously pulls an eye mask and headphones out of his bag, seats himself in the corner, and announces he’s going to try and sleep and to wake him up if anything interesting happens, leaving the two of you essentially on your own.

When you have your drinks, you pull your masks off, settle into loungers in the opposite corner of the room, and start talking again. It comes easily between the two of you—you’re used to asking questions and he’s used to answering them. He’s going to New York for a “personal schedule,” and you don’t ask for more details because you know he wouldn’t give them to you anyway. His whole face lights up when he tells you about an exhibit at the Whitney he’s hoping to catch, about how he’s willing to suffer through the jet lag for a glimpse at a certain Hockney that he probably won’t ever see in Korea.

Eventually, the tables turn a little, and he starts asking you about your own life. It’s less interesting (in your opinion) than his, but he’s a good listener, and asks good questions. He seems really excited (and remembers, to your surprise) that you’re an arts reporter, asks what you’re writing about lately, asks if you’ve seen anything new that caught your eye, even asks you for gallery recommendations around Seoul. You have a few, and he actually jots down notes in his literal notebook while you speak, claiming he’ll forget which you recommended if he doesn’t write it down. Cute again.

Hours pass, and you’d swear it’s only been a few minutes. It’s been a long time since you talked with someone like this—leisurely, candidly (or as candid as he can be, anyway). You get food brought to you by an airline employee, and you know it’s an upgrade from what’s being served in the rest of the lounge, but Namjoon isn’t phased at all. You suppose this is his normal, so there’s nothing out of the ordinary for him.

“I can’t believe you get special food,” you say when you’ve finished.

“Special food?”

“Well yeah, they’re not serving anything other than soup and crackers out there. Maybe carrot sticks.”

“Oh…” he says quietly, brow furrowed, like he’s really thinking about it. “Do you think I should ask them to bring barbeque to everyone else?” You actually think he means it. So fucking cute, you think.

After you talk him out of wielding his influence, mostly using the argument that it would be an immense amount of work for the airline staff, you settle in again. He produces a blanket from a cabinet against one of the walls of the room, and it’s an obvious sign this whole experience is totally typical for him. When he hands you the blanket, you can’t help it, you smile at him and probably look a little smitten. You might just be.

You offer him part of the blanket, and he accepts, pulling it over his lap and asking you if he took too much. (He didn’t). You talk more, and you feel relaxed with him—it’s so easy to forget he’s who he is and you’re who you are. It’s just like getting to know any other casual acquaintance better except he’s stupid good-looking and you start to notice that your faces are a lot closer together than they started out as you talk about Marci Kwon and the interesting work that the Asian American Art Initiative is doing. It was the last article you’d written, and you’re surprised to hear he’s read it.

You’re saying something about non-hierarchical modes of presenting research in art when you realize he’s not listening anymore, just staring at you intently. You’ve been talking a lot. For a while… Maybe talking too much; maybe he’s bothered.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

His eyes widen like he’s the one who’s been caught-out this time. “I’m really good,” he says, almost like he’s surprising himself.

It makes you beam. “Good,” you say. “I’ve liked talking to you.”

He nods. “I’ve liked talking to you, too. You have a lot to say.”

The fact that you can feel his breath on your face when he speaks makes you certain that you’re sitting too close, that something is happening that probably shouldn’t be. It makes you forget that “you have a lot to say” isn’t always a good thing. You think that everything might sound good when it comes from his mouth, that even the worst insult would trickle out like honey. Your heart rate has picked up, you now notice, and you both keep just staring at each other—you don’t know why you don’t move or look away, it’s like you can’t even though you know you should.

Namjoon’s eyes flick up behind you to where his manager is, and you can hear the man snoring, so you know he’s not aware at all of what’s happening right in front of him.

“They don’t have cameras in here,” Namjoon says. “It’s why we come here.”

You nod, nothing to say to that—you’re not even sure why he said it unless…

“Can I kiss you?”

That is the exact moment when every coherent and rational thought you have ever had rushes out of your brain like a waterfall. You’re not even sure how you manage to respond, but this very cute, very smart, very interesting person has just expressed interest in you of all people, and you’d be an idiot not to say yes.

“Oh my god, please,” you say all in one hurried breath.

And before you’re even finished, his lips are on yours. It’s soft, more chaste than you’d expected, but it doesn’t stay that way when he nips at your bottom lip and licks into your mouth. One of his hands comes to the back of your neck, fingers teasing at your hair and pulling you closer as you practically melt into him. It’s a good kiss, a fantastic kiss, and all you can think is more, more, more as the two of you try and do your best to be as close as you can over the armrests of the stupid lounge chairs.

When you part, his eyes are a little wild, and you think yours must be, too.

“I have to wake him up soon,” he says, looking past you. “It’s almost time for our flight.”

You glance over your shoulder at his manager who’s still totally unaware of what’s happening around him, and then stand, offering a hand to Namjoon, too.

It’s a rare moment of boldness, but something’s come over you, and you’re acting with very little thought as to what you’re doing and how stupid it probably is. “Come on,” you say, tugging him up. When he’s standing right in front of you, you put your hands on his chest and raise up on your tiptoes to whisper, “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

He wipes across his bottom lip with his thumb, pausing probably to think about what you’re implying, and then he bends to kiss you quickly before he agrees. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

It’s not your fault that you know where the ‘family restroom’ is—you passed by it on the way to the back of the lounge and you notice things, you remember things.

You hope he doesn’t think you do this kind of thing all the time, or ever, although you don’t know why you care what he thinks since you’re also willfully oblivious to any looks you might be getting from any passersby who see you tug him into the room behind you.

It’s sheer luck that your go-to travel outfit is a fairly basic knit dress. It takes him no time to have you pinned up against the door, lips on your neck, hand rucking up the front of your dress so that he can get a hand under your tights. God, it feels good. He feels good, large and solid and his fingers… fuck. They’re long and nimble and he’s clearly not new to this, but neither are you, so you roll your hips forward and moan at the contact when he slips his hand under your tights.

“You’re already wet,” he says, surprised, pulling his head back so he can look at you properly, his fingertips skimming between your legs.

You nod and pull him back in to kiss you again—you only know a few things about Kim Namjoon, but you already know you like talking to him, and now you know you like his lips on yours even more than that.

“Come here,” you say, and slide away from the door, pulling him with you so that you can bend over the small vanity where you can see yourselves in the mirror above it. He’s been polite, almost too nice for what you’re in the mood for, and you don’t know if he’ll take the initiative, so you lock eyes with him in the mirror and slide your tights down from under your dress, stepping out of them one leg at a time.

In the mirror, you watch as he tentatively sticks a hand out to feel you again, groaning when his fingertips slide against you so easily. One, then quickly two fingers enter you, slowly moving in and out, and he studies your reflection, like he’s trying to learn what you like. It’s a lot of effort for a one-night stand in a Heathrow airline lounge. He pulls his joggers down; he’s already hard, feels big against your ass and the back of your thigh.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighs. It’s apparently not lost on him how you watch him in the mirror, pupils blown, because then he asks, “You want to watch me fuck you?” He winds the fingers of his free hand around a handful of your hair and tentatively pulls your head up so he can look you in the eye through the mirror.

You watch him focus on you nodding and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth; he drops your hair as he stares. He has to know already how much you want it, but he makes you say it anyway.

“Tell me you want to see me make you come,” he whispers into the back of your neck, breath hot against the shell of your ear. Behind you, he’s rolling on a condom that seems to have appeared out of nowhere—you wonder if he had one in his pocket ‘just in case.’

You smirk, widen your eyes, and nod again. “Please? Will you fuck me? I want—” You pause to turn your head over your shoulder and kiss him again. “I want to watch you make me come.”

Holding onto your hip, he pushes his cock, thick and flushed, into you quickly; you don’t have much more time before his flight.

He groans as he starts thrusting, pulling almost all the way out slowly before snapping back into you.

“Oh shit…” you whisper each of the first few times he pushes into you.

Your head falls as he fucks you—It’s so good, he’s deep deep deep, and you feel so full, and you might cry it’s been so long since someone’s fucked you like this… But he wants your attention, so he brings a hand up and slaps you lightly along the back of your thigh to get you to look up.

It wasn’t hard, but you’re barely acquaintances, so he seems to hesitate, looking to your reflection for reassurance. In return, you look him straight in the eye and let out a moan.

“You wanted to watch, so watch,” he whispers.

“Do it again... please,” you plead softly as you raise your head and push your hips back against him.

He lifts the other hand and strikes the swell of your ass this time, harder than the first slap, making you suck in a breath. White knuckles grip the sides of the sink as your skin turns pink, but you’re still smirking and soaking wet, asking for more as he grips your hips to fuck you harder.

“Harder… I need you… feels so good,” you pant.

You move to lean on an elbow and bring your other hand down to your clit. His hand follows yours and moves it out of the way as he leans forward to whisper, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.”

“Then do it.”

Namjoon slows the movements of his hips to focus on you, rubbing circles over your clit with his fingertips and sucking on your neck, right against your pulse point, sending shivers along the length of your spine.

He rolls his hips into her as you grind against him, whimpering quietly, “Fuck, Joon… yes… oh, fuck…” You trail off, not able to focus on anything except his hands and his cock. You don’t even care that you’re already using nicknames with him.

“Finally got you to stop talking so much,” he teases as he works you nearer to orgasm.

You’d laugh, okay with being teased, except you’re practically shaking now, close to release, so he puts more pressure on your clit and moves his cock in you a little less deep, hitting you exactly where you need him each time.

God, you look good together. There’s a sweat sheen on your foreheads, his cheeks are painted with a rose blush, and your eyes are wide, watching yourself with curiosity in the mirror as you start to come.

You’re close, so close, tightening on his cock as he lets go of your hip and puts a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle the loud cry you make when your orgasm hits.

Your cunt pulses around him and he drags his hands slowly away from it and your mouth, back to your hips.

“You ready?” he whispers.

“Good girl,” he affirms as you nod, and that absolutely shouldn’t have you ready to come on his cock again, but maybe you have a praise kink you didn’t know about. You whimper when he starts fucking into you again, resuming his previous faster pace.

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to come after that, with you babbling nonsense about how good his cock is and begging for him to come inside you. He thrusts into you one last time and releases into the condom, watching in the mirror as you give him a satisfied grin and roll your hips with his.

When he pulls out of you, he drops to his knees and kisses you where he’d left a handprint on your ass. It makes your breath hitch, feels too intimate for people barely know one another and who’ve just fucked in an airport bathroom. But then he pulls you up to standing, smoothing your dress around your legs. He grabs a bundle of toilet paper and hands it to you to wipe up.

“Look at you,” you tease, “what a gentleman.”

He pulls his joggers up and watches you flush the tissue while he discards the condom. You fiddle around for your tights and slide them on under your dress.

When you’re finished, you lean against the sink and watch him—he’s cute like this: face still flushed, hair mussed, and most of all, he looks as nervous as you’re starting to feel.

“I don’t do this kind of thing,” you say. Your voice is a little wobbly, and you wonder where any of the self-assurance you’d had earlier when you dragged him into the room has gone to.

Namjoon laughs, bright and dimpled, before he replies. “Fuck, me either. I mean… people sometimes… know who I am and I have to be careful.” The last words come out in a rush.

“Careful how?”

He looks fully embarrassed now. “LIke my manager is going to kick my ass when we walk out of here and… well, people back home would have a field day with this if someone saw.”

You’re not even sure what to say to that. Because of course you know who he is, you get that he’s famous, but the thought of talking about this with anyone just seems… It’s not like it makes you look very good either, so you’d never. It would be professional suicide; you’d never be taken seriously again. You spit out the next words mindlessly, just trying to make it less awkward. “You think this was the ‘something interesting’ we were supposed to wake him up for?” Namjoon just looks at you like you’re nuts before you both burst into laughter.

When you catch your breath again, you get a little more serious, your voice softer. “I’ll sign something. Whatever we should have done before, we can do it now, you can email me or whatever. God, this is crazy…” You trail off, consequences of what you’ve done starting to sink in.

“Okay… Thank you,” he says. “I hate how awkward this is. I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling a lot more vulnerable than you can ever remember feeling. Is he sorry that you did this together or is he sorry that it’s awkward? You don’t really know. Maybe it’s both.

“This was a mistake,” you say without thinking, and his face falls.

“You think that?” he asks quietly, stepping into your space and reaching out to stroke your arms gently. “Because I really don’t. I know things are complicated with me? But… I liked you when I met you for the interview, I liked you today, and I’d like to see you again. I really wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think anything would come of it. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Aren’t all guys that kind of guy?” you ask, wondering if he’s even for real.

“No,” he says. And you think he’s sincere. “Really. I’ve never done something like this before.”

You nod, uncrossing your arms and letting your hands slide into his. “So, we should go though… You have a flight to catch, and I guess I have an NDA to sign.” You’re trying to tease, but you think you probably just sound fucking terrified.

“Can I have your number?” he asks.

“For the NDA,” you affirm, taking the phone he’s sticking out to you and typing in your contact info.

“And for a date, maybe?” he says. And when you look up at him, he looks bashful, nervous even, as if you could ever say no to this man with a big brain and a dick to match who has just made you feel at least twelve new things in the last few hours.

“I’ll be back in Seoul in two weeks,” you say, handing him his phone back.

He smiles wide at that, and leans in to kiss your cheek. Cute again.

“I’ll call you,” he says eagerly. “And someone will be in touch about the paperwork… Sorry again.”

“Not your fault.” You shrug. “But you should head out first so it looks less weird, probably. I’ll freshen up for a minute and then be out in a bit.”

“Right,” he agrees. “Okay. So… I’ll see you in Seoul?”

You can’t help but be endeared to him; the fact that he seems to think you might actually not want to see him again makes you go all squishy inside. “It’s a date,” you confirm.

“Great! Okay… I’m gonna just… go now.” He points at the door, fumbling behind himself for the latch, like he doesn’t want to break eye contact with you.

“Okay, Namjoon… It was good to run into you and…” You hate that you can’t say anything coherent, your sentence just ending in, “stuff.”

He laughs and pulls his mask back on. “It was good to run into you and stuff, too.”

Finally, he’s got the door unlocked, and before he slips back into the lounge he says, “I’m really going to call you, okay?”

You aren’t sure why, but you believe him when he says it even though you know better, and all the weird feelings you’ve been having about him come together in a bright firework feeling in your chest. Something like hope, maybe.

“Talk to you soon,” you say quietly.

And then he’s gone, and you’re left breathless, wondering what you’ve just done.

next chapter

#bts fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts fic #bts writing #fic: wayw

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zarvasace · 6 days

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Ugh tumblr is not cooperating with my readmores and art. Oh well we can do it this way. AU masterpost

Say hello to Shackle and Nothing, dark Wind and dark Time :D more art and long descriptions beneath the cut!

Shackle

Shackle is dark Wind.

To me, one of Wind’s core themes is freedom. He goes wherever he wants on his boat (and has fun), he frees a couple girls from the Helmaroc King, and when I think of him, I think of wild blue skies and an endless horizon. He loves life and is one of the most determined heroes.

Shackle, on the other hand, is a bit of a control freak. He doesn't mind not being in charge all the time (he does mind, but he doesn't like to be challenged, and knows that he'd lose any fight for the top place, so he pretends to not care) but he does mind when things don't go his way. If someone or something is annoying him or not listening to him, he will readily use one of the many chains he carries to threaten or restrain. He likes being in control of others, and he likes when people are afraid of him. He keeps fairies nearby, not so much in case of healing, but because he can shake their bottles and listen to them chime in fear.

Shackle is a rather skilled manipulator, and one of the few Darks that look pretty much human, so he's often the one to head excursions into town (Prince is more of a charismatic diplomat, but his powers don't work on whole crowds at a time.) Because of his strength and chains, he's often the one to be on Dire duty, something he doesn’t mind much. Shackle is also very fond of money and luxury. He’ll pinch rupees on anything that doesn't have to do with him, like someone else’s supplies, but he's happy to splurge on himself.

He doesn't have any mystical powers, but he does have enchanted chains that grow and shrink according to his needs. He eats food like any mortal. He's as young as Wind is but is more often successful at bluffing his way into bars and the like. He “jokes” often about earning a couple rupees from selling one of the others—usually Lost or Madness, or Nothing if he's being annoying (a normal occurrence.) Shackle’s ambition is to break free of the others and start a true pirate empire, and the way he wants to do that is by starting a slave trade. That way he can indulge his loves of intimidation and money at the same time.

In terms of design: Shackle is pale to Wind’s tan, a bit beefy to Wind’s young lankiness. He wears red instead of blue, leaning into the pirate aesthetic with sashes and belts and leather and eyeliner. He got a chain tattoo because he thought it was cool. He fears losing everything he has, and some of what he doesn't have.

The only thing that Shackle and Wind would agree on is that Aryll must be protected and lavished with gifts at every opportunity (even though Shackle hasn’t technically met her, yet.) He'd treat her like a princess—as long as she agreed with him about what a princess should be. He isn't a very good listener.

Nothing

Nothing is dark Time. He appears as a petulant child: sharp and angular and half-dead. He takes all of Time’s gremlin tendencies and turns them into cruel pranks and mean-spirited insults. Time is a leader, and Nothing intentionally holds the group back if he can get away with it. Nothing is resentful: he remembers fighting Time, though he, like Agony, is different now—he can think more clearly and has a purpose beyond just being something's guardian.

Nothing gets along best with Madness. He hates being given orders and actively goes the other way unless it was his idea. The group at large only barely puts up with him, but they keep him around for a good reason: he's kind of a genius. He knows dungeons, traps, and gimmicks like nobody’s business. He won't ever give advice on one of Depth’s plans if asked, but they've figured out that if they give Nothing an opening to dunk on someone and hurt one of the Heroes, he'll jump into it and put that genius to work. He's excellent at predicting what the heroes might do, which makes everything just that much more sinister.

On occasion, Nothing will fall into fugues. During these periods, he appears as an older teenager instead of a child, and he's virtually unresponsive. He'll move if prodded. He’ll fight—and fight very well—if told to, but he won't speak, the embodiment of his name. Pretty much everyone finds the contrast rather creepy. These periods don't last long, and soon enough, Nothing is back to his bratty younger self.

Most of all, Nothing wants everything Time has, but if given the option, he wouldn't take Time’s place. He innocently wishes he could be a hero, but he knows he can't be, so he's going to go as far the other direction as possible. He wants to build his own life. But the people around him wouldn't ever let that happen, so Nothing is bitter and lashes out, without any reason not to.

Nothing is designed very much after the Dark Link in Ocarina of Time’s Water Temple, with a few significant tweaks. He is based on young Link instead of the older one, and he is also covered in signs of decay. There are faint red and purple lines like veins on his skin, like corpses that began to decompose underwater, and his tunic and hat show signs of the same. When he appears as a teenager, the decay is even worse. His sword is patterned after the Master Sword, but is just a normal, nonmagical thing.

Nothing is the Hero of Nothing, a sad admittance of his own emptiness and a jab at Time’s forgotten timelines. He wouldn't even know how to seize the opportunity to be a hero of something if it showed up in front of him.

#my art #linked universe #lu z darks au #this is so. cringe.#but whatever #we'll be back to scifi times when i finish these

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kithtaehyung · 1 year

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🎶 Composition of the Century (The Collab Masterlist!) 🎶

Hello, everyone! Welcome to the concert hall.

Take your seats and silence your phones, we have the genius Min Yoongi himself to celebrate on his thirtieth birthday!

Isi (@raplinesmoon), Ryen (@kithtaehyung) and Mars (@joheunsaram) are stoked to announce the masterlist for our second BTS 30 for 30 collab. For this collaboration, we have gathered 30 fantastic writers to showcase 30 musical pieces celebrating Yoongi's brilliant mind during his birth month.

🎼 All details/ratings of the upcoming lineup are under the cut. These fics are slated to go on tour by March 15th, so get ready to be moved (and don’t forget to come back and give them a listen!)

by the time i've figured out what it's worth (m) by @ugh-yoongi ⤷ Guitar 🤍 Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 est. relationship, marriage au | angst, smut

🎼 You used to find comfort in it—listening to those old songs, an aural timeline of your and Yoongi’s relationship. The shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. All those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and Yoongi’s got one foot out the door.

🎧 Listen Here!

The Eternal Prince (13+) by @phenomenalgirl9 ⤷ Accordion 🤍 Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 fantasy, reincarnation au | action

🎼 Everyone heard of the Prince who got cursed to be a beast for being too proud of his beauty, ever heard of the Prince who got cursed to have a frozen heart because he was cold? But, only one thing can thaw the ice in his heart, love. And only one person can give it to him, Y/n, will he be able to save her this time round? This time round, will his heart thaw?

🎧 Listen Here!

Seductress In Satin (M) by @daimyosjeon ⤷ Songwriting 🤍 Songwriter!Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 est. relationship au | smut

🎼 Yoongi has been ignoring you for a couple of weeks now because of his work. Finally, it's time to step up your game.

Pull On My Heart Strings (13+) by @cutest-bunny-writings ⤷ Harp 🤍 Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 angst, fluff

🎼 You've been waiting for this show for so long. To see award winning harpist Min Yoongi perform live, in a front row seat! What could possibly go wrong?

🎧 Listen Here!

Please Linger (M) by @matchy6812 ⤷ Synrix 🤍 Musician!Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 fantasy au | humor, smut

🎼 After terrorizing the villagers with one too many pranks, you’ve been locked away in The Tower to atone for your petty crimes. As far as you know, The Tower is impenetrable. Nobody can get in, and nobody can get out. It seems you’ll never escape—until one night, a man named Yoongi barges in…

🎧 Listen Here!

Floating Chapels (17+) by @persephonesorchid ⤷ Chimes 🤍 Yoongi x Reader 🎶 regency au, strangers to lovers | angst, fluff

🎼 You open a music school for underprivileged youth and since the beginning, you've had an anonymous doner: they provide your students with instruments and general funding. One day, Duke Min presents himself and a grand offer for you and your students.

The Departure (M) by @sugalaritae ⤷ Double Bass 🤍 Classical Musician!Yoongi x Classical Musician!Jungkook 🎶 rivals to lovers, exes to lovers, romance | angst, light fluff, smut

🎼 It's been 5 years since Jungkook's seen Yoongi play live. 5 years since he was in the same room as Yoongi. 5 long years and so much has changed. Now, on the evening of what looks like Yoongi's last concert, Jungkook watches from the audience. Every finger movement reminds him of what it felt like to be touched. Every bow movement pulls out an old memory tucked away reminding him how intoxicating it was to play with Yoongi and oh! how he aches for a chance once again. Except he's ruined everything, and nothing will ever be the way it was. Especially Yoongi.

🎧 Listen Here!

unrequited love (& other clichés) (m) by @hot-soop ⤷ Cello 🤍 Cellist!Yoongi x Violinist!Reader(f) 🎶 non idol au, friends with benefits | angst, smut

🎼 Namjoon thinks it’s almost funny how both of you were dumped a year apart to the day. (It’s not.) While you’re partial to ignoring your problems, Namjoon likes to analyse. He cries a lot. Has an existential crisis. Starts talking about how suffering breeds creativity. Quotes a bunch of arseholes like Huxley and Lennon, and apparently the validation from a few long dead greats is all he needs to get the ball rolling. So sure, you’ll go along with it - because he’s your friend and you’re feeling numb to everything anyway. Namjoon needs a way to process his pain. But when his community orchestra project takes off and becomes something bigger than either of you expected, you think maybe the distraction is something of a blessing - especially when it brings Min Yoongi, someone you knew from before, someone who’s going through a heartbreak of his own.

all that we wouldn’t say (m) by @effortandmore ⤷ Producer 🤍 Yoongi x Namjoon 🎶 canon-divergent (post-disbandment), exes to lovers | angst, smut

🎼 If Yoongi told someone that letting go of BTS and Namjoon at the same time was hard, it would be a gross understatement. It was, in fact, the worst year or so of his life, but he’s managed to somehow move on. He’s had time, therapy, and lots of friends, family, and work to distract him. Things are good now—the best they’ve ever been, maybe. But Yoongi knows better than anyone that good things don’t always last, and that point is proven when Namjoon shows back up in his life out of nowhere with an album that needs producing and questions Yoongi doesn’t have the answers to.

harder, better, faster, stronger (m) by @the-boy-meets-evil ⤷ Synth 🤍 Synth Player!Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 non-idol au | fluff, smut, probably not angst

🎼 Yoongi had it all. He was part of one of the most famous musical acts on the world. Sold out shows, endless opportunities to collaborate, everything he'd wanted. And he had a great personal life free from all that since so few people knew what he actually looked like. Enter you, the new person he's head over heels for. Only one problem - you have no idea he's part of the group and don't seem particularly fond of them. Will he tell you what he actually does for a living or chicken out after hearing another of your rants?

moonlight sonata (m) by @sugarwithtea ⤷ Piano 🤍 Pianist!Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 enemies to lovers | angst, fluff, smut

🎼 Passion is a fickle thing. It is a feeling that drives you to success, but if lost -- you can turn as stagnant as a pond. Min Yoongi has always took pride in his passion, his skill, his art. But what happens when slowly the flame dies inside him? He returns back home, to the place where he had started to love music. But, you are there. The bane of his existence. You hate him like a sweltering flame, bigger than his passion for music. And you, are not so thrilled with the news of his return. What happens when you both inevitably cross paths and start a saga of hate and love?

🎧 Teaser!

가연 (Ga-yeon) (m) by @raplinesmoon ⤷ Bassoon 🤍 Restaurant Owner!Yoongi x Nurse!Reader 🎶 fake dating au | angst, fluff, smut

🎼 Your younger sister is getting married at the end of the summer, and while everyone else in your family rejoices, you’re stuck without a date and picking up extra shifts, your previous failures coming back to haunt you. The only comfort you can find is in the tiny hole-in-the-wall Korean place that seems to stay open all night, and its handsome owner Yoongi. But what happens when your circumstances force you to rope Yoongi into a crazy plan? Will the lines between you begin to blur, or will the events of the summer bring some much needed clarity to your otherwise murky life?

A Love Supreme (M) by @gimmethatagustd ⤷ Saxophone 🤍 Musician!Yoongi x Author!Reader 🎶 cruise ship au, strangers to lovers | light angst, fluff, humor, smut

🎼 After your most recently published novel miserably flops, shipping yourself off to sea on a three-week cruise without reliable internet or cell phone service sounds like a great way to run from your problems (and your editor). You don’t expect to find the cure for writer’s block at the cruise ship’s jazz club in the form of an uptight saxophone player.

Dissonance (M) by @sailoryooons ⤷ Clarinet 🤍 Musician!Yoongi x Musician!Reader 🎶 enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers | a little angst, smut

🎼 You have worked endlessly for everything in your life. Your scholarship, your high standing at Juilliard, and most certainly trying to afford an apartment in New York while chasing your dreams in the legendary halls of musical geniuses. And then there’s Min Yoongi, who works hard at nothing, who doesn’t care to study, and who shows up late to everything. After three years of dealing with him, you are determined to take first chair from him during your final semester at Juilliard. Even if it kills you.

Standing Right Here (M) by @sweetestofchaos ⤷ Keyboard 🤍 Business Management Major!Yoongi x Business Management Major!Reader 🎶 college au, friends to lovers | angst, fluff, light smut

🎼 As the youngest son of the Min family, Yoongi is forced to follow in his father's footsteps to help take care of the family business. Yoongi goes about his college life with his head down, keeping to himself but one encounter outside with a classmate changes Yoongi's view about his life. When Yoongi's father catches wind, Yoongi is giving an ultimatum that will change his life forever. Will he make the right call or be left standing alone?

🎧 Listen Here!

Insatiable (M) by @mincursedarokster ⤷ Janggu Drum 🤍 Actor!Yoongi x Actor!Jimin 🎶 romantic comedy, rivals to lovers | fluff, some smut

🎼 When Yoongi loses his top spot in a recent poll to Jimin, the last thing he expect was to find himself on set with the younger male and having to take him under his mentorship as they work together in period piece where Jimin is the vocalist to Yoongi's Janggu playing. Whilst everyone around him see’s Jimin as the perfect little angel, a doting mentee, Yoongi knows differently. Can Yoongi keep his sanity and his composure on set dealing with the insatiable appetite of the devilish angel?

Hexed (T) by @minisugakoobies ⤷ Oboe 🤍 Witch!Yoongi x Vampire!Seokjin 🎶 supernatural, enemies to lovers, witch au | fluff, humor

🎼 Ancient vampire Jin really has it all - fame, fortune, and undying good looks. His immortal life is perfect... or it would be, if it weren't for that annoying(ly handsome) witch Yoongi and his unearthly desire to make Jin's world an unliving hell.

The Song of Us (PG) by @seokra 🤍 Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 contemporary romance | fluff

🎼 What was supposed to be a simple cafe date, turns into a night of adventure in a world of music you’ve never experienced before.

Gold (M) by @yoongimingyu ⤷ Vocals (Singing) 🤍 Yoongi x Reader(f) 🎶 est. relationship | fluff, smut

🎼 One thing your boyfriend isn’t shy about is his musical talent. He puts words together in a way that completely convinces you that that’s how they were supposed to be all along – strung next to each other just like that. The fact that he knows it too… It's pretty hot, honestly. You know he enjoys getting to show off a little – sit you down, share what he’s been working on and watch you light up with pride. All of this only makes it especially intriguing when he gets suddenly bashful about his most recent songwriting development.

🎧 Listen Here!

A Change of Rhythm (PG) by @min-yumniverse ⤷ Trumbone 🤍 Yoongi x Musician!Reader 🎶 contemporary romance, hurt/comfort, comedy | slight angst, fluff

🎼 Music doesn’t feel as powerful as it once has. The notes on the keyboard feel boring, and uninteresting. The guitar and drums feel likewise. Each day feels like it’s littered with laziness and unamusement. Which means; it’s time for a change of rhythm.

🎧 Teaser! | 🎧 Listen Here!

all about that bass (m) by @augustbutwinter ⤷ Bass 🤍 Yoongi x Reader 🎶 band au | crack, fluff, light smut

🎼 Yoongi’s band tries to get their grumpy bassist laid. Little do they know he has a secret.

Time Out (M) by @bangtanintotheroom ⤷ Vocals (Rap) 🤍 Underground Rapper!Yoongi x Underground Rapper!Reader(f) 🎶 non-idol au, not-quite lovers | angst, fluff, smut

🎼 What you and Yoongi had going on now was a far cry from the days when the two of you would be at each other’s throats with lyrics that cut sharp as a knife. But lately, you’ve been pulling back, busy with something that you didn’t want to divulge to Yoongi just yet. And now, he can’t help but wonder if you want to go back to those old days...

Beat of my Heart (M) by @joonminshua ⤷ Tambourine 🤍 Yoongi x Afab!Reader 🎶 college au, band au, strangers to lovers | fluff, humor, smut

🎼 'How hard can it be to play the tambourine? You just shake it around and smack it and then you have music, right?' That’s what you think until you’re holding the instrument in your hand and it sounds nothing like the way it does when Min Yoongi, your college’s musical prodigy, plays it during band practice. When he reluctantly decides to help you practice, you start to notice just how serious he is about the unassuming percussion instrument. You also start to notice just how passionate, kind, and undeniably handsome he is. Needless to say, you didn’t intend on picking up a crush alongside your new hobby.

Counting Time (M) by @mrworldwideshoulders ⤷ Xylophone 🤍 Percussionist!Yoongi x Flutist!Reader 🎶 college au, enemies to lovers (or so she thinks) | fluff, eventual smut

🎼 Min Yoongi only cares about two things. One: keeping his parents off his back. Two: finishing college on time so he can spend one last summer playing gigs with his band before he has to start working and join the rat race. Faced with losing out on his summer plans over a missing course credit or joining concert band, a guaranteed easy A, the choice is obvious. He knows how to count the beats. He just never counted on you.

Muffled Tones (21+) by @nabiolive ⤷ Drums 🤍 Drummer!Yoongi x Groupie!Reader(f) 🎶 glam rock au, strangers to lovers | angst, fluff, smut

🎼 To Yoongi, all that mattered was sex, drugs, and rock & roll. Then you came along, and although he couldn't stop thinking about you, his priorities remained the same.

dearly bereft. (nc-17) by @rkivian ⤷ Flute 🤍 Flutist!Yoongi x Duchess!Reader 🎶 forbidden romance, exes au, suggestive | angst

🎼 dearly bereft, you should be aware by now, that your words are only a product of your silly little heads - that which is also stubborn... that which puts your drivenness to perilous use. alternatively, yoongi's audacious company is to blame for your failure of ending your repetitive endeavours.

Inconvenient (M) by @v-hope-mins ⤷ French Horn 🤍 Jazz Lounge Owner!Yoongi x Heiress!Reader 🎶 marriage of convenience, friends to lovers | fluff, smut

🎼 While on a family vacation, your father delivers his ultimatum. He wishes you to be married before taking over more responsibilities in your family’s hotel chains. Either you choose someone, or he puts forward his own suitor. He admits he already has a suitor in mind - Kim Seokjin. Feeling betrayed you walk out of the lunch. Your walk leads you to an old acquaintance, Min Yoongi. The two of you get to talking, your conversation leading you to make a decision. A marriage of convenience. Yoongi obviously thinks it's a bad idea, but you convince him. However, Yoongi proves to be too good of a husband, and suddenly your growing feelings become inconvenient. How are you supposed to survive in a marriage of convenience when you're falling for your husband?

beguiling melody (m) by @ressjeon ⤷ Gayageum 🤍 Vampire!Yoongi x Seamstress!Reader 🎶 romantic suspense, strangers to lovers, historical fantasy, 1800s au, voyage au

🎼 Secretly boarding the ship in hopes of finding a better life had not been easy. Even more so when you witness something that could have put your life in danger. but the ominous yet captivating stranger sparks your curiosity when he began targeting your greatest desires - making you question if his intentions are to solely ensure that you will keep his secret.

———————————————————————

adagio (pg-15, nc-17) by @lveclouds ⤷ Violin 🤍 Violinist!Yoongi x Princess!Reader 🎶 forbidden love, strangers to lovers | heavy angst, fluff

🎼 In which Queen Mara’s only heir falls for a gorgeous violinist with a mysterious and shrouded past.

———————————————————————

Lasting Melody (R) by @joheunsaram ⤷ Conductor 🤍 Conductor!Yoongi x Violinist!Reader 🎶 exes to lovers | angst, fluff, smut

🎼 The flowers blooming always reminded you of the spring you spent in the arms of your program’s recluse. The man who was too shy to even raise his hand in class but bold enough to ask for your number. With years spent apart and your fame making it harder to build any connections, you thought about him sitting at his piano composing a melody you played when life got too hard. The same melody echoing through the empty theatre you stumbled onto to hide from the rain.

———————————————————————

to zanarkand (m) by @kithtaehyung ⤷ DJ 🤍 Yoongi x DJ!Reader(f) 🎶 marriage au, childhood friends to lovers | angst, fluff, smut

🎼 Your best friend has explicitly entrusted you to be in charge of all the music for his wedding. Which means you get a back row seat to watch the love of your life walk down the aisle. To the song that brought you together in the first place.

Thank you to all the participants and everyone showing love! If you would like to be tagged in any of these fics, go ahead and comment on this post so the writers that do tag readers are made aware :D (Or you can definitely drop a sweet message in their inboxes and/or check if they have a taglist form!)

Lastly, let's give a huge round of applause for these wonderful artists👏 They're working hard on these pieces for Yoongi Day, and even a little bit of support goes a long way💕

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amazzwon · 1 month

Text

WHAT IS... HOME?

❜ ─ ─ ❛ lee heeseung x fem! reader

╰┈➤ ❝ [angst, non-idol au, one-sided love, friends to strangers]

╰┈➤ ❝ [0.8k words]

╰┈➤ ❝ [cherry blossom; lana del rey]

I was six feet under my thoughts as waited for her by "The Stone Cold" ice cream shop. As the glass entrance opened with customers pushing through, a waft of sweet air contrasted with the evening air. The grey scarf cloaking my neck itched and tickled me; it was a cold November. My breaths turned foggy and my nose dusted crimson.

The cold was as harsh as the reality.

It had been a week since I revealed my truth to her.

"If my name was a word then you are the meaning to it".

That's what I had said, my true being, my pure love, my final chance to prove to her; to tell her that I, Lee Heeseung, am in love with her.

"I-If you will have me," My voice had wobbled, "Meet me in front of our favourite spot at 8 pm?".

I cringed at the memory. Had I sounded more mature, more manly, maybe then she would have given her answer at that moment.

A week passed but my hope did not.

The first time, it did phase me... a lot. I remember being drenched in my sorrow and overflowing eyes that would not open (I changed pillow covers twice that day).

The second time, the ice cream shop owner offered me a free scoop (that melted in my hand cause I was too in my head).

The third time, I took interest in the pebbles by the road and kicked them woefully; but there had been times when my head played games with me, begging me to look up to meet her eyes but she wasn't even there.

The fourth time, I gazed at the clouds.

The fifth time, my heart began playing tricks on me, persuading me to go to her apartment complex; but I was a lover, not a serial killer.

The sixth time, I can't even remember anymore...

The neon pink, "The Stone Cold", sign flickered in contrast to the golden gleaming lamp posts. It looked ugly. The contrast, I meant. Coincidentally, so did my thoughts. The crowd brushed past me, rushing as if they had somewhere to be; that thought made me jealous.

Would she consider me to be a place worth running towards?

Time was ticking; the rush hour stalled. My feet prickled; the freezing temperature swept past me. I stood still; an empty vessel with heartbroken thoughts. The ice cream shop's sign glitched shut, and then the old man (the owner) walked out offering a sad smile at the sad case of a man in front of him. I could hear the man wobbling out of the scene but, my genius envisioned her footsteps approaching me.

There you have it, another day spent on the woman so gorgeous, she turned me ugly with glum hope. My mind tugged me to text her, just one last time. I decided against it.

The buses continued their usual routes. It was a cheap option instead I chose to take me and my pathetic heart for a walk. I shouldn't have; I could have easily saved myself from the nightmares, the embarrassment, my dignity! Yet I watched with my chapped lips parted and eyes widened. She had her arm looped with another man. My eyes flitted from her to her man. Her man? ugh, that word itself made my soul churn.

He whispered something in her ear and she laughed as if she had no care in the world. How brutal could she be! They stood near the signal waiting to cross the road... so she did have a place to rush towards but couldn't she at least stop by to reject me?

Oh no, it was worse. I was the other man...

I collected the few shards of my heart and I turned around with heavy eyes. Walking briskly, I couldn't gaze straight, too stunned to look up anymore. At least, I had memorised the path home. I decided that home was my place to be... but no.

As soon as I thought of home, she flashed across my mind. Her smile, her warmth; she was my sunlight and she was my shade. My walking speed turned obsolete and my vision was hazy. I should have known better than to have such a tremendous amount of longing, I could have spared it to face the world.

Maybe she saw it. She noticed my blind faith, she noticed my unfortunate state of being under her spell and left me to my thoughts. They weren't any better.

I approached my home... oh god, I want to find another word to call the place I rest...

my hand shoved in my pocket to fish out my keys

a warm place...

I finally felt the cold metal ring and pinched the correct key.

a place to laugh...

I tried to connect it to the keyhole but I missed

a place where I could love...

I missed again

a place... where I would stop missing her

The first tear fell before I could even enter my house; the place as cold as November.

#a.d blahblah #enhypen #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung angst #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung angst #enhypen fanfic #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung fluff #heeseung smut

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luv3rrx · 6 months

Text

Fuck me? How about fuck you

Astaroth x F!Reader

Cw;hate sex - rough face fucking - Astaroth is a tattoo artist and Mc is a florist - Astaroth is the biggest flirt and tease ever - rough sex - snarky comments - plot and porn - pet names like a lot - sprinkle of praise n degrading - hair pulling - sprinkle sprinke unprotected smex,(wrapped it up like a gift please) - mc make-up is smudge

A/N; I would've done it on AO3,but I'm too lazy to make it into chapters,the more I wrote the more tags appeared bro wanted to make it an AU but got lazy + writer block

Being a florist in a small town wasn't too bad,you had daily customer and you didn't have to fear for any competition since there wasn't any store right in front of you

Expect for the supermarket and the gas station,so why the fuck did the owner of the tattoo shop decided to open right infront of you huh?

Like out of any store that it could open in front of it decided to open in front of yours,but you weren't going to make any fuss about it

It's not like that shop is going to take your daily customers right?

…

….

….. right

Your daily customers would come into your store with a brand new tattoo,it wasn't bad but still,you had to know who was being this genius idea to open in front of your store

So one day you decide to go head and actually meet the brains behind this idea,you leave your flower shop and head towards his,it was like 1 second away from yours

You open the door to ear the little jiggle announcing that you were coming in,soft RnB in the background welcoming you in a tall blonde guy,he was probably the cashier of this place,he looks up just to give you the brightest smile ever

"Heya! I'm Paimon. Can I help you with anything?" — his name was Paimon,you looked at him amazed as if you saw an angel,but you had to focus! You had to ask the real questions and also introduce yourself

Since you were too polite for your own good

"Hi..erm,I'm [Name] I work at the flower shop just right in front of you! I just came to see my front neighbor aha" — you gave him such an awkward laugh that he just chuckled softly and reached to shake your hand,to make it less awkward

But after that day,you never and I mean EVER walked into that store again,no not even for the cute cashier guy.

It was Friday,an afternoon,you were fixing a bouquet of tulips with a mix of red roses when you heard the front door of the shop open,you place the bouquet gently down on the table

You go ahead to greet the customer that came in,just to see this tall man,black long curly hair with snake bites.

And those dark eyes that pierced into your soul,there was something about his eyes that drew you in..but for God sake say hi to the customer!

"Oh hello! I'm [Name] how can I help you?" — you ask, trying to focus on him and not how he looked,he was hot but you really had to concentrate [Name]

"I was wondering what's the best flower for my shop" — the stranger with a deep and husky voice said,you were curious you weren't going to lie

"Oh where do you work?" — you asked so that you could give him a great advice

"Oh just the tattoo shop right in front of this store" — you stop your tracks,did he just mention that tattoo shop? The one that was actively taking your daily customers that you didn't even see them daily

"Wait,you own that shop?" — you ask sending him a glare,so he was the one that was making your business go slow lately

He smirks at you and doesn't say anything

"You own that shop don't you?"

"What if I do sweetheart"

Your mouth is wide open at the little name he gave you, 'sweetheart' the hot stranger was your shop rival

Holy fucking shit,there's no way in hell that this hot guy was now your rival

Well..if he was your rival now,why not know him first?

"Well since you will be my rival, I'm [Name]"

"Astaroth,pleased to meet you bunny."

HE DID IT AGAIN! Okay but now he had to do it on purpose from how big his shit eating grin was

You glance at the new nickname,

"Bunny really?"

"Really"

Ugh,he was so frustrating but so so sexy,he gave wave you a goodbye before leaving

This was the beginning of a new rivalry

So if you hated him so much,why the hell are you bent over his desk,

You swore you saw the motherfucking stars from how rough he was fucking you from behind, your ass had his hand prints on them that's how rough the sex was with him

"Ah..ahh!! I fuc- ooh..I hate you so much" you moaned biting your bottom lip afraid that you would say something that would betray you forever

"Hmm? Doll you can't just lie to my face when you are taking me so well.." he teased taking a fistful of your hair,so that he could look at your fucked expression

"Beside..you can't say that you hate me when you look like my perfect slut.." he whispered in your ear kissing the earlobe

He was right though,the way you clenched down on him as if you were scared and afraid that he would leave

"Ugh..I hate you" your word slurred making him chuckle deeply

"Hmm..you gotta show it better than this" he mocked and twitched inside of you meaning that he was close his pace becoming more fast and harder than before

He bit your neck sucking on it to leave a hickey on it

You both were so close to cumming that you just didn't even tell him that you came on his cock

Just for him to also cum inside of you,he pulled out slapping his tip against your sensitive wet pussy

But if you thought that this was over,nonono,this was round one baby

"Kneel." His tone demanding,the claim that you so 'oh I hate him so much I just wanna slap him' flew out of the window literally.

You kneeled down and watched him as he sat down on the chair,his cock still hard as ever

"Go on,don't be shy and suck it" He said with such a tone..that would make any good girl make their panties drenched

And you did as you were told,you started to first jerk him off,that size would never EVER fit in your mouth

You spit on it, making sloppy sounds, kissing the tip before lowering your head on it bopping on it slowly your tongue slurping and licking it clean

"You look like a mess..look at your face, mascara and lipstick smudged" he let out a breathy chuckle throwing his head back from the pleasure

The more you sucked him off the more he was losing his self control,he grabbed your hair getting up from that chair that probably got fling somewhere around the round

One hand on the desk the other with a fistful of your hair face fucking you, making his cock hit the back of your head,pubes in your nostrils

Your eyes rolled back into your skull,just how much did he want to fuck you dumb huh?

"Maybe this will shut you up from your snarky comments" He grunts not giving you a time to breath, basically he was using you like a Fleshlight

"Am I fucking my bunny dumb?" He groaned and smirked chuckling again, muttering a 'fuck I'm close' but you were to fucked out to even hear that

He finally came down your throat, making you swallow every single drop his hot cum,he pulled out a wet pop from your lips,his cock resting on your face while you were taking back some energy

"Maybe I fucked you a little bit too *dumb*" He said laughing softly at your state

After that,he took you on a nice little coffee date and spoiled you rotten,I mean to the core, massaging you and even caring you in his arms since your legs weren't working after that,but it was worth it to get spoiled with the best of aftercare with Astaroth

#what in “hell” is bad?#julia talks!#whb smut #whb astaroth #whb #what in hell is bad #whb astaroth brainrot

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mixelation · 6 months

Note

In the new AMAZING au, what does Kakashi think about obito? Is Kakashi....okay?

i think it's more fun if by the time tori's around, they're like.... friends. they have fun banter. kakashi is actively relieved when obito shows up to stressful situations when the stress is someone threatening kakashi

this time around obito is ~technically a genius~ but he's even worse at following orders. so early team 7 kakashi views him as a rival and respectable opponent but also as like... a fuck up. like what is obito even DOING 90% of the time. he's late all the time and he talks back to authority and he ignores orders and ugh ugh ugh

obito 4D chesses his way around the kannabi bridge incident so there's no singular moment of "and now we are bonded FOREVER" even though obito has considered just sticking a sharingan in kakashi to force that moment, and also like, offered it to kakashi a couple times. so i think it's a process of many years of forced into close proximity by shared missions where kakashi very gradually comes around to him. he gets used to obito being.... obito.... and sometimes views obito's hinge-free lifestyle as a boon. like, yeah kakashi WANTED to do something horrible to the guy who hit rin in the face with a kunai, he's not going to complain if obito hunts him down and sets him on fire even if the platoon captain said no??? sometimes he has to talk him down from doing something completely insane (like giving him his eyeball) but it's been ten years and obito hasn't hurt anyone kakashi actually cares about. so by the time they're both 22 kakashi is like "actually sometimes being a troll gets you want you want" and "yeah obito is a violent unhinged freak, but he's OUR violent unhinged freak" bc being violent and unhinged is MUCH less of a red flag for ninja. like no obito is not allowed to babysit naruto solo but also kakashi would trust him with his life

he IS kind of concerned about obito's interest in team 4? like, um. sensei...... do you know obito is uh........ like that................

(minato has been VERY CONCERNED about obito's sanity several times. but also obito is, you know, comically OP and Minato has spent over half his ninja career at war. he's not going to do an intervention, because why would you do anything to nerf one of your best guys? but obito's file does have seven thousand notes on it, and rin and kakashi's files also have notes about obito. for example that one time with kiri taught them that rin's safety has to be a priority on field missions because otherwise obito will go insane as our resident ultra talented medic-nin, just normal policy about saving the medic first folks nothing to see here)

#reborn au #reborn au au: it's gotten sillier #obito: uh OBVIOUSLY konoha's best and brightest get special treatment. why do you think you get away with half the shit you do?#tori: ??? because i am very clever and sneaky and charming??#obito: LMAOOOOOOOO no <3

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kandisheek · 2 months

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FIC REC WEEK 9 – AUs

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: betheflame

Flame is the queen of fluff in my book. Her fics are like little pieces of candy, and no matter which one you choose, they're all delicious. I love the way she explores different AUs and makes them her own, especially the No Powers variety. So if you're looking for some treats, you're in the right place.

Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:

Have You Met My... Husband?

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Bucky/Natasha Rating: M Words: 7,317 Tags: School Reunion, Fake Relationship, Mutual Pining

Summary: Steve's high school reunion is coming up and for reasons that make no sense except in fic, Tony goes with him and poses as his husband. ... and things progress from there ...

Reasons why I love it: Natasha and Pepper really steal the show in this one, what with their meddling ways. Honestly, Steve and Tony need all the outside help they can get, my god, idiots in love is exactly right. I really love the humor in this one, and Bucky and Natasha's banter especially. This fic is adorable, and I hope you give it a shot!

Crouching Genius, Hidden Soulmate

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,276 Tags: Bucky Barnes is a Good Bro, Soulmates, No Powers

Summary: “We’re going to chat about that imaginary numbers bullshit, Stark,” Bucky said with a laugh, “but right now, come with me.” “Where?” “Downstairs,” Bucky said, offering his hand. “I’m about to change your life.” Tony barked out a laugh. “Okay Angelica.”

Reasons why I love it: You had me at Angelica. This fic is so sweet! I love all the little tidbits like Rhodey and Pepper's daughter and Steve's career that really flesh out the world. And of course, I'm a huge fan of Hamilton playing a major role in this fic. I love this one so much, so I hope you give it a shot (and don't throw it away, badum tz).

Paper Crowns and Secret Keepers

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,564 Tags: No Powers, A/B/O, Teacher Steve

Summary: Steve Rogers did not play favorites. He’d been one of the kindergarten teachers at Allensville Academy since he got out of graduate school and that was one of his key pedagogical beliefs - no playing favorites. But lands alive, if Peter Stark wasn’t testing his resolve.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaaaah not Flame subverting expectations in the best possible way, I am LIVING! Tony the not-alpha just breaks your heart once you learn about the circumstances that made his secrets necessary, and I love the political undertones throughout the fic in general. Also, Mairi (Askafroa) made some truly fantastic art for this that you desperately need to see if you haven't already, it's the cutest! This fic is amazing, and I hope you check it out for yourself!

A Totally Normal Dad

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,103 Tags: Identity Porn, Parenting, Canon Divergence

Summary: Steve is a totally normal, boring, suburban, stay-at-home-dad. He's also a superhero. His husband only knows the first sentence.

Reasons why I love it: The Incredibles, but make it Stony. I really love how this ties into canon, and oh my god, that paragraph about Steve wanting to grow old with Tony made me genuinely emotional. Also, Steve and Tony are so sweet with Peter, it makes me want to cry. This fic is amazing, and I highly encourage you to read it!

Wax On, Wax Off

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,354 Tags: No Powers, College AU, Merman Steve

Summary: Sure, a man could fall in love with a merman - but where would they make out?

Reasons why I love it: They're so fucking cute, ugh, I love them. Tony doing his level best to make life more comfortable for Steve is so sweet, and oh my god, the ending puts the biggest smile on my face. I also love the way Steve's merman-ism works and the cameos of the other Avengers in texting-form. This fic is delightful, and I hope you give it a go!

#marvel #stony #fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #ficrec #a year in fanfic recs #AUs

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welcomingdisaster · 4 days

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Firstborn women is fascinating. How exactly does it change the dynamics or the canon events? And more importantly, lesbian Russingon?

lesbian russingon yess!! here is. a tiny little fraction of the dynamics in that verse, namely the finwe-feanor-fingolfin-turgon-fingon mess

okay so. for the sake of this au, we are swapping every single firstborn son to a firstborn daughter. for those who wed (which is just fëanor), their spouses also swap to fit most easily into the au

also for the take of this post i'm not swapping anyone's name around. but i DO know they are gendered and would swap them if i actually wrote this

so, finwe's beloved baby from his first marriage is a daughter. his first child from his second marriage a son. this creates a very natural dynamic of intense jealousy between them, where feanor expects that fingolfin is going to get everything as the first-born son and she will get nothing

she is also the clear favorite, an extremely controversial figure in court, and a genius. usual feanor stuff, but take it up to eleven with the tendency to break social norms + inheritance angst

eventually finwe announces that he is changing the law to make a one-time exception to allow his eldest daughter to be crown prince rather than his son. no this will not apply to any other woman in valinor. this is the special princess law for his specialest princess

you can imagine fingolfin's feelings re: this. he says nothing but deep down is extremely frustrated at the blatant favoritism, and feels his father would never do something like that for him

[time passes i am skipping over a lot of stuff to get to the point]

cut to: fingolfin's own family. in this case, eldest daughter fingon, middle child and only boy turgon, little aredhel.

fingon is very much fingolfin's favorite kid, as i believe is true for usual canonverse also

but he's raged!! a million times over!! about how unfair it is to show special favor to the eldest. he will not be his father in this. he will stick to his own ideas of fairness & the law. he is very much raising turgon to be the heir (even as he secretly wants to give fingon everything) and he's weirdly resentful of turgon re: this.

fingon is also kinda resentful of turgon re: this. if they had all been daughters, there would be no problem and she'd just be the heir presumptive, but he has to go and be a boy. fucking ugh

you can imagine why turgon fucks off to gondolin

#lena speaks #look i like messes #doomed to repeat the mistakes of ur father etc

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 10 months

Text

Be My Valentine | Ch- 1 "No"

pairing: Vernon x reader

genre: fluff, angst, slight crack, friends to lovers, non-idol!au, college au

summary: College was hard enough and the thought of spending Valentine’s Day alone and sad was not your style. And the best solution was to go on a platonic date with your best friend Vernon. It goes so well that it becomes a tradition until it gets messy… nothing ever goes wrong by pretend-dating your best friend right?

status: ongoing

a/n: first time trying something like this cuz I saw too many edits on Vernon’s Fire verse! Please tell me your feedback!

pictures from Pinterest!

As if the sheer cold of the dying February winter was not enough to make life miserable, it also had to be dubbed the month of love. You weren’t a cynic but you knew enough to understand that Valentine’s Day and the gala around it is all nothing but a big capitalistic scheme. As the happy couples invest in the meaningless gifts and expressions of their extravagant love, the lonely saps drown their sorrows in the name of self-love. But your biggest complaint against this whole bonanza is the forced self-hate, even though it usually felt perfectly normal to be single and you even enjoyed it, this time of the year it always felt worse.

Maybe you were just another miserable single sap.

This year was going to be different. You were determined. But also you didn’t want to go through the painful process of pretending to be interested in a guy who, like all the other ones, would either turn out to be misogynist, homophobe or a transphobe- which constitutes 90% of the available population in your uni.

Hence why you find yourself walking with purpose toward the university library with the sole motive of hunting down you’re too smart for his own good best friend of a year and a half, Vernon.

You still remember meeting that shy little boy on the first day of your undergrad, looking lost in the crowd of the class and hoping you would let him sit with you. All it took was an awkward introduction for both of you to build your solid friendship. It was a perfect match- him, a hardworking genius with very minimal social skills and you, an almost genius with the concentration skills of a goldfish.

Vernon might be top of the class, a computer nerd with the face of a young Leo DiCaprio but even he was prone to the February blues and having seen how miserable he was during the previous year Valentines Day, especially as he watched his high school ex go gallivanting about with his then-roommate, you were determined to make this year a good memory for both you.

Also, he is the only guy in the university that you trust and is capable of handling you at the height of your drunkenness.

Looking at your watch you realise that only 10 minutes are left before he leaves his sanctuary at the library and goes to his Virtual Reality class. Of course, you knew his schedule, and he knew yours. He also knew that you hated being left on read and yet chose to do the exact same thing when you had texted the previous night about your genius plan.

Wheezing you finally reach the third floor of the big library that hosted all varieties of nerds and unfortunately, couples (they're everywhere this month, ugh). Walking across rows of shelves interspersed with group tables filled with students seeking refuge from the harsh winter cold or simply biding time, you finally reach the semi-private cabins.

Counting down five from the cabin to your right, you march toward the one you knew Vernon would be in. And surely enough, when you peek your head through the partition separating the hooded figure on the chair, with headphones and his laptop, from the rest of the library.

His head is bent as if he was peering into the laptop through the screen and as you move closer to his chair to reprimand him you realise he is sleeping. Gently moving inside the cabin, standing near the table, facing him, you can see that he had slept while coding. It doesn’t even surprise you anymore.

“Hey douchebag”, you say as you tap lightly on his shoulders. He jerks awake and blinks a couple of times before you see the understanding of reality dawn on his face. Removing his headphones, he moves his chair lightly behind and ruffles his fluffy hair.

“What do YOU want?” He sounds like his usual annoyed self. If you didn’t know he truly did like you as a friend you'd be offended.

But you don’t mind the grumpiness one bit as you settle down on the little space on the table smiling lazily as he gets more annoyed by the disturbance to his ecosystem of peace.

“I want a lot of things, for instance, I want a big mansion on top of a hill just to relax in the summer. I want to know why dolphins were made to be sea creatures if they can’t even breathe in water. I want to know why my skin breaks out in hives due to stress ONLY on my left side. I want to know why I get horny when-“ “Please shut the fuck up.”

He cuts you off with his palms reaching up to cover your mouth mid-sentence. You try mumbling against his palm for a second before which he grips tighter effectively stopping any attempt on your side.

He slowly lifts his eyebrows to warn you against trying to babble again and you nod in affirmative to the same. His eyes thin as he considers your sincerity of shutting up and seemingly convinced releases his grip on your face.

“Why do you talk so much all the time!” He growls as he rubs his eyes while settling back on his chair and lets out a yawn. He looks so much like the freshman kid you met and less like the overworked junior that he is.

You shrug nonchalantly (or so you hope).

“Someone needs to balance your entire lack of energy.” He sighs and slumps back on his chair. “Yeah yeah, I’m not arguing with you anymore… I’ve learned it’s best to just agree with you.” You give him a sarcastic smile as you say, “They don’t call you smart without a reason.”

He responds with an incoherent dismissive grunt and after a moment begins to lean forward as he tilts his chair towards you with both his palms placed on either side of your thigh.

Oh.

“No.” That’s all he says, his brown eyes twinkling, mouth pressed into a straight line looking right at your eye. You're sitting on the inclination of the table and he's on the chair looking up at you, yet he looks so intimidating. Not that you are going to let him bother you.

Two can play this game.

You lean forward and meet his face, a good few inches apart, bring out the good old puppy dog eyes and whisper, “What is the ‘no’ for Hansol”. You purposefully use his Korean name knowing he gets annoyed when you say it (Not sure what that is about till now).

You can see him grinding his teeth beneath that calmness and a smirk naturally plays up your face.

“Quit it, y/n. I saw the text and I’m not going to do it. Get lost.” The words fall out of his mouth in a hurry as he continues to grit his teeth together and not lose eye contact.

“Oh, so you did leave me on read by purpose.” You fake a heartache with your left palm pressed on your chest and your right palm on your forehead. He sees you dramatically pretending to have a heart attack and headache at the same time for a good minute before he decides to end this charade. Just as he moves to get up from the chair you hold him down with your hands on his which were at the side of your thighs.

“Pleaseee”, this time the puppy dog eyes come out naturally. He looks at you for a second before sighing.

“Ugh! You’re impossible but alright.”

“Wait really?!” You squeal a little too loud in excitement and earn a dozen “shh”s in response from the general crowd in the library. Looking around apologetically and back at Vernon, you hold his hands in yours (they’re somehow always warm even in the depths of winter).

“Is that a yes?” Cue more puppy eyes. Another sigh. “I don’t have a choice do I!” Grinning wide, you say “Not really.”

Vernon looks to the side as if to consider something important before turning to you, looking down at your still-connected hands, and then your face.

“I’ll do it but it’s gotta be strictly platonic-“ you’re violently shaking your head in positive because of course that doesn’t need to be said.

“-andddd….”, he’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes which stinks of trouble for you. This is the same glint he had when you ended up eating a pizza with ice cream AND a steak.

“And?” You prod, curiosity up to the brim of your head. “I want you to formally ask me… now.” The grin has turned into an almost full bright smile. “What does formally mean?”

“I’ll leave the details to you…” he shrugs and removes his hands from yours and pushes the chair all the way back to the wall and folds his hand.

“I can wait all day”, he sounds way too proud, sitting there in his hoodie and that smirk(I swear he looks like an actual young Leo).

“No, you can’t. You have a class in-“, you make an ordeal of checking your watch, ”-exactly 9 mins.” He shrugs, “This is worth missing it.”

This bitch.

"Are you really cashing in your bet right now?" You ask referring to the advantage he got after you lost your bet in a UNO game six months back.

He just nods casually and stretches on the chair before settling in a lazy and proud position, again.

You groan knowing he won't give up and get down from the table and get on one knee facing him.

“Chwe Hansol Ve-“ “Nope. Redo.”

This actual bitch.

Giving him your best glare you adjust on your knee, clearing your throat, you try again.

“Vernon…”, you look at him for approval and he nods. Ugh.

“… will you be m-“

“Louder, I can’t hear you.” His grin has transformed into one of his signature all-teeth-visible smiles and his entire face is lit up in amusement and joy.

Clearing your throat a little too loudly, you try… for the third time. Humiliation and anger heat up your entire face.

“Vernon, will you be my platonic Valentine?”

Your voice echoes in the near-silent library halls and the minute you’re done at least another 20 “shhs” are once again thrown your way.

People are assholes.

Vernon looks positively thrilled. He is full-on laughing, shoulders jerking, all 32 of his teeth in display and eyes disappearing behind the light of his smile.

If only he didn’t look so wholesome and adorable when he humiliates you.

He straightens up after a couple seconds and rubs his index finger against in chin, in fake thought.

“Hmmmm...”

Oh god, he is planning something... shit

"No."

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