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highvern · 4 months

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Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them.

So you go as late as possible.

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone.

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial.

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.”

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch.

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back.

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is.

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat?

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week.

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips.

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit.

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary.

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt.

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!”

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.”

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.”

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s.

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up.

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this.

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.”

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?”

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold.

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck.

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth.

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.”

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager.

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half.

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case.

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

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greynatomy · 1 month

Text

reputation

ella toone x reader

first ella toone fic! was in the drafts for a while and got around to finally finishing it. honestly don’t know where i was going with this

———

You had a reputation.

Once you turned eighteen, you started to rebel, wanting to make your point across. At eighteen, you started getting tattoos and buzzed all your hair, looking completely different from the colorful person you used to be. You wanted to steer away from the child everyone sees you to be and be seen more of an adult. The thing is, your management thought that the only way to do that is to make you out to be a womanizer, getting girls left and right.

The smoking, though, that was on you. Becoming well known starting at the age of fifteen, you’ve been under the spotlight from a young age, being told how to dress, how to act, everything in your life was controlled. The smoking, getting tattoos, cutting your hair was a way for you to get some of the control back.

You are now twenty-five. Fired your old management, signed into a new label who let you be you. Its been two years and you’ve been writing and producing songs on low profile. Your fans still figure out which songs have been written/produced by you - even under pseudonyms. You were loving being out of the spotlight for once.

—

The sun shining through the curtains wakes you up from your sleep, eyes fluttering shut from the light. Your arm tightens its hold from the body it’s slung over, pulling them close.

“Mmm, five more minutes.”

You didn’t reply, just pulled her closer than she already is, drifting back to sleep. About an hour later, you wake up to footsteps running around. Sitting up, back resting against the headboard, you see your girlfriend running around, stuffing things into her training bag. You sat there quietly, admiring your her chaotic form rushing in and out the room.

“You’re staring.”

“Just admiring.” You mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Well, I need to leave now or I’ll be late.”

“Did you pack any going out clothes? Wanna take you out after training.”

“Yeah, but what about my car?”

“I’ll take a cab to the facility. Wait for you.”

“Alright, text me when you’re there.” She leans down, giving you a kiss. “I love you.”

You grab the back of her neck and pull her back when she moves away, pulling her back in for another kiss.

“I love you. Now, go before you’re late.”

“See you soon.”

To make time go by faster, you decided to busy yourself with some cleaning around the house. You quite liked being a little housewife for Ella, cooking, cleaning, waiting for her to get back home from training.

Few hours later, dressed casual, you’re in a cab on the way to St. George’s Park. paying the cab driver, you walk to the parking lot looking for Ella’s car.

Rockstar 🎸🖤

at the car. forgot the spare key. take your time

Looney Toones ❤️⚽️

give me a few minutes

You leaned against the car, answering some messages and emails from your phone. You were too focused to notice a couple of footsteps coming towards you.

“Uh, excuse you. Don’t lean on the car.”

You look up, taking the hood off your head, to see Ella’s best friend, Alessia, and one other.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hold on.” Mary, the goalkeeper that Ella’s told you about, spoke up. “Why do you look so familiar?”

Before you could answer, you’re cut off by a very loud voice.

“We’re matching!”

Your face instantly lights up at the voice of your girlfriend.

“What a coincidence!”

“Ha. Ha.” Ella realizes you, once again, matched with her on purpose. “What is it with you wanting to match with me?” She smiles at you with adoration.

You shrug. “You ready to go?”

The clearing of a throat breaks the two of you out of your bubble, forgetting about the other two Lionesses.

“Uh, Tooney?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s this?”

Ella’s face lights up. “Oh! This is me girlfriend, Y/N!”

“Nice to meet your two!” You hold your hand out, but it was just stared at. You let out a chuckle, awkwardly putting your hand back down. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Bye guys.”

Mary and Alessia watch as the car drives off with their friend inside.

“I remember now! She’s Y/N Y/LN. The one I’ve seen on the news always bringing a new one home.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if Ella was just another one of her conquests.”

The next day at training, Mary and Alessia approach Ella during break.

“Hey, guys!” Ella greeted them cheerfully.

“Hey, Ella. Uh, just some questions.”

“What is it?”

“Your girlfriend. You know who she is right?”

Ella was now confused. “Uh, yeah. Of course I do.”

“Well, we’re just worried.”

“About?” Now Ella was getting a bit impatient.

“She’s a bit off a womanizer isn’t she?” Alessia blurts out, speaking up for the first time.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s always seen with a new girl hanging by her arm like every week.”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Look, Tooney. We’re just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? Nah, I’m done with this conversation.”

You were in the backyard when you heard the front door slam shut. Looking towards the door, you see your girlfriend stomping towards you and plopping down on your lap.

“What’s happened?”

“Ugh! Can you believe Mary and Less? They had the nerve! The nerve to accuse you of being with me only temporarily.”

“What else did they say?”

“They were talking ‘bout how you always have anew girl hanging off your arm and stuff, but those were from years ago before you fired everyone.”

You wrap your arms tighter around her, pulling her closer. “Well, I mean, look at it from their perspective. They’ve never met me, they don’t know me like you do. All they have is what they’ve seen online. And they’re your best mates, they’re looking out for you.”

After a few moments of silence, Ella now has a look of determination on her face. She grabs her phone and sends out a text.

“They’ll be here in a couple minutes.”

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

“What do you mean in a couple minutes. I haven’t even cleaned the house yet.”

You run around the house picking up anything you could see to put away, wanting to make a good first- technically second- impression with Ella’s best friends.

“Babe.”

You go to grab the vacuum.

“Baby.”

You also grab a broom because what if the vacuum isn’t enough.

“Baby!” She grabs you by the shoulders to keep you in place. “Breathe.” You do as she says. “Okay. The house isn’t even messy and even if it was, they’d know it was from me.”

You nod your head. “True.”

Exactly as Ella stated, there was a knock on your front door a couple of minutes later. She greets them, letting them in and goes to stand next to you.

“This is Y/N. My girlfriend, as I stated yesterday.”

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You give them a small wave.

Mary’s lips form a straight line while Alessia gives you a small smile in greeting.

“Let me get us something to drink.” Ella announces, leaving the three of you alone.

“What’s your game here?” Mary gets straight to the point.

“Sorry?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“C’mon! You’ve gotten with singers and supermodels, basically everyone. Is Ella another one of your conquests?”

“What? No!”

“I’m not stupid! I know your reputation, you go from one girl to another.”

“Well, then you don’t know me at all!” You were now getting frustrated. You hated when people judge you just because of what they see from the media. You can’t blame them though, that’s all people know you from.

“What’s going on here?” Ella walks back in, drinks in hand, confusion on her face.

“Nothing. Just getting to know—”

“—Actually.” Mary cuts Alessia off. “I just wanted to make sure she is good for you. Based on all the girls she’s been with, I don’t think she is.”

“Okay, that’s enough Mary!”

“I’m just being realistic!”

“No, you’re being an asshole judging my girlfriend from things you see on the internet. You should know not to believe everything you see online. The both of you.” Mary and Alessia looks down in shame. “Also, if you haven’t noticed, she’s been out of the media for two years so everything you’ve seen was from a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s been with half the population before you!”

“It does when you find out that that isn’t true at all.”

“What?” Alessia’s voice was soft but heard.

“My name is-was a brand by the label. I was legally blinded to do what they told me to do and the acting out, smoking, tattoos, those are the only ways I could take some control back, but I never took advantage of anyone. All those girls I’ve been pictured with, I’ve only slept with one until she left me because management wanted to keep the ‘bad girl’ image.”

You move to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from a refrigerator. Popping it open, you take a swig, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Two years ago, I decided to ‘run away’ to Manchester. Fired my whole team and just disappeared.”

“That’s when I met ‘er.” Ella cuts in, wrapping an arm around your waist, leaning into you. “Started dating two months after the countless dates she took me on and it’s been almost two years. She makes me really happy.” The last sentence was directed right at her friends.

“Okay. I’m sorry for judging you so quick.”

“Same with me. I’m sorry.”

“No hard feelings at all.” You give them both a smile. “Now since you’re both here, why don’t you stay for dinner.

The three perk up at the mention of food.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #ella toone #ella toone x reader #engwnt x reader #woso community

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emphistic · 3 months

Text

"I'm Lactose Intolerant"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS ALREADY BECAUSE I FORGOT TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT, i have yet to get the hang of tumblr, yuuji hasnt been born yet, the itadori parents neglect their children so grandpa takes care of them, waaaaaay later is when yuuji is born, sukuna gets his tattoos when he is older

Prologue: As summer nears its end, and autumn takes its place, you find yourself in quite the situation. A new family has arrived in the neighborhood, and your parents have tasked you with greeting your new neighbors. A wacky grandpa, a gloomy tween. Seriously, could things get any worse?

A/N: Sukuna is 10 years old, while reader is 9 years old. However, Sukuna was held back a grade, so guess who is joining your class this year? *cue the confetti*

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

PS: i know little kids shouldnt be walking the streets alone, but lets just pretend the world is a better place

Chores are boring. Errands, on the other hand? Well, not so much.

You shielded your eyes from the rays of the sun as you walked down the street, avoiding the cracks on the pavement. The sky bled as the sun set and the songs of the birds started to come to a halt. It was a typical Saturday, help get the groceries, head home, and assist with dinner as much as possible. However, what wasn't typical was the fact that there was a moving company's truck blocking your way home.

Wow, there's definitely a better way to go about this, you sigh. Mindlessly, you kick a pebble aside and tighten your grip on your tote bag as your stride continues.

Several men in navy colored uniforms carry boxes as another man, who you estimate is a septuagenarian, surveys the workers from the front lawn of his new house. The man, who you also assume is your new neighbor, has his hands clasped behind his back and wears a green wool sweater.

Deciding to be polite, you clear your throat, neaten up your braids, and slowly approach the man, cautious as you try not to give him a heart attack. At nine years old, one may not know much, but one might know that killing your elderly neighbor is a pretty wack first impression.

The man looks quite surprised to see you approach, and even raises a white brow.

Okay, maybe this is a bad idea, you think as your palms start to sweat. You go through several introductions through your mind just to go with the most lame one.

"Hello, sir. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm your . . . uhh, new neighbor," you cringed at yourself before holding out a hand to the man.

"Ah, wasn't expecting to meet my neighbors on the first day here. I am Mr. Itadori, pleasure to meet you," his voice sounded like that of an old man's, yet, it had such a warm, cozy feel to it. He took your hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Likewise," you say, after a few seconds of silence.

"Should a girl, — pardon my rudeness — as young as you, be walking out here alone at this time?"

"Aha, my parents trust this neighborhood enough. And anyway, I was only getting groceries from the store, it's not too far from this block actually." You pointed a finger in the direction of said store.

"Wow, you must be pretty responsible for your parents to be sending you out for groceries, huh? Good to know some children in this neighborhood help out their families," Mr. Itadori turned to face a boy, probably not much older than you, who was carrying boxes into the house when he put emphasis on the word "some".

The boy had pink unruly hair, that was slicked back and spiky. You held back a giggle at the sight.

"Grandpa, I'm literally moving furniture into the house. What are you looking at me for?" The boy grumbled, but he didn't stop as he moved the boxes.

"I never said you didn't help out. I was just simply telling Y/N here, about how some children help out their families. No need to get upset now, Sukuna." Mr. Itadori gave a small chuckle, before abruptly turning to face you.

"Oh, right! How rude of me, I haven't introduced you to my grandson."

"Oh, no worries. You guys are probably busy—" You began, before being cut off.

"Nonsense! Sukuna! Come here, boy."

Sukuna muttered something, and dropped off a box by the front of the house before moving over to you and his grandpa.

Now that the boy was closer, you could make out his red eyes, and the frown on his face. Looking back at Mr. Itadori, you noticed he did not share the same qualities as his grandson, and instead had brown eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself!" Mr. Itadori lightly pushed Sukuna closer to you.

The taller boy stared at you for what seemed like forever, before averting his eyes to the ground and keeping them there. "Name's Sukuna."

"Y/N. But I think your grandpa already mentioned that," you tried to lighten the mood.

You swear you heard him say something along the lines of "pretty name" under his breath, but before you could ask, Sukuna retreated to his boxes. His grandpa looked displeased at that. Actually, that's quite an understatement. He looked furious with Sukuna, but he didn't do anything other than sigh and bid you adieu and good night.

You slowly walked back to your house, your arrival being a little later than usual, which your parents questioned you about, to which you explained that there was a truck in your way.

When it was time for bed, you did as you usually did. Showered, changed into your pajamas and watched a movie before cleaning up and preparing to actually go to bed. As you moved to close your window blinds, you noticed something you hadn't seen in a long time — considering no one's occupied the house next door since it was put on sale — there was a window right across from yours, and the light was on.

You didn't plan on becoming a creep at such a young age, but due to curiosity, you didn't peel your eyes away from the window. It surprised you to see that the room across from yours was a bedroom belonging to none other then Sukuna. When you saw the pink spikes of his hair come near the window, you quickly shut the blinds.

The next morning, your mom shook you awake.

You groaned, "Mom. . . What is it?"

"We have new neighbors, honey! I've already started prepping for baking an apple pie for them—" You let her ramble on while you were still half-awake.

Oh, right . . . you never mentioned your meeting with the Itadoris. Now you have to introduce yourself to them, yet again.

"—I just need you to grab a few ingredients for me, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Mom. No problem." You stretched out your arms and yawned.

"Perfect! I'll let you get ready then. I'll give the list on your way out." Then, your mom got up, and shut the door.

You yawned again and rubbed your forehead. This was definitely going to be an interesting day, to say the least.

You met your mom downstairs and she instructed you on the ingredients you needed to purchase. "Uh huh, got it. Thanks. Bye, Mom!

Still half-asleep, you slowly slipped on your sneakers and headed out through the door. The sun warmed your face, yet sent a chill down your spine.

Apples and lemon.

Apples. . .

And lemons.

You hummed to yourself as you walked down the street, passing by the Itadori house.

Apples and lemons—

"Gah!" A little rock got in your way, and you were about to faceplant onto the sidewalk when you felt a firm hand on your shoulder reel you back upward.

You turned to see who your savior was, and cocked your head to the side in surprise.

"Sukuna? What are you doing out here?"

"No 'thanks for saving me, Sukuna'? Also, contrary to your belief, other people in this neighborhood get out the house too, y'know?"

You scoffed, jutting out your bottom lip, "Thanks."

Sukuna held a smug look on his face.

"So . . . you gonna take your hand off my shoulder, or should I do that tor you?"

He looked taken aback, and swiftly returned his hand to his hoodie pocket. "I have to go get groceries. My grandpa sent me, because our house is basically empty?" Sukuna acted as if that was common knowledge.

"What did you have for dinner last night, then?"

"Ordered in."

You mumbled, "Figured."

"Anyway, Grandpa told me you know where the closest grocery store is? I need . . . directions."

"Oh! Right," you scratched the back of your neck. "I'm actually heading there right now. You can come with." If Sukuna didn't want to go with you, he certainly didn't show it (surprisingly).

"So you're actually going to turn this way, down here, across this weird looking house or something — I actually don't even know if it has someone living in it — then go in front of this—"

"Stop talking, and maybe we'll get there faster," Sukuna muttered.

You turned around to face him; he had his hands in his pocket and wore a bored look on his face. You huffed.

"Go have someone else show you the way, then. Y'know, I was actually trying to be nice to you and all. I'm even showing you the shortcut. And now look at how you're treating me." You turned away from him.

"'Trying to be nice'? Please. You haven't asked me how day was going. 'Trying to be nice' my ass."

You ignored his use profanity at such a young age, and you came to a skidding halt; Sukuna even bumped into your back when you stopped abruptly.

"What is your problem!? So what if I haven't asked you how your day was going? SO WHAT? You haven't asked me either. If you don't like me just leave. me. alone!"

"People are so uptight these days," Sukuna shrugged.

"Uptight? UPTIGHT? Please, be my guest, and show me how I'm the uptight one here." You couldn't believe this dude. He's the only other kid in this neighborhood — besides your sibling — and he refuses to be cooperative, kind, nonetheless, a decent person.

The rest of the walk to the grocery store happened in silence. And believe me, the silence was loooouuuuddd. You wholeheartedly believed Sukuna would leave, but he didn't. Which made you even more mad.

The bell above the door chimed when you stepped in the store, out of pettiness, you didn't even hold the door for Sukuna. He scoffed at that, and you turned around to face him. "Well, here you are. The grocery store. Happy now?"

"I'm never happy."

Wow, he must've been dropped on the head as a baby, because he certainly did not get the personality from his grandpa.

You walked through the aisles one by one and searched for the items your mother requested.

Apples and lemons.

You didn't even bother placing them in a bag, insisting on carrying them yourself. Meanwhile, Sukuna was still trailing behind you, much like a lost puppy. His groceries were all in a bag, and he looked ready to pay, but he was still behind you.

Finally, you got sick of his weirdness, and peered over your shoulder to get a look of his face, which was frowning, "Why are you following me?"

He looked like he was pondering, thinking of a way to answer your question. "Girls shouldn't be walking around alone. Especially you."

"Ugh, there you go again. Always thinking you're better than everyone else. And, whaddya mean 'especially me,' huh? You don't think I can handle myself? Are you here to protect me or something? Swooping in to save the day, my knight in shining armor? Seriously, Sukuna."

He groaned, and dragged his free hand down his face, "I came from a not so safe neighborhood. Can't you see I'm just trying to look out for you? If some man came up and harassed you, and I was shopping in some other aisle, would you blame me too?" His voice softened on the last part.

"Forget it, you're right. I'm wrong," you sighed and walked to the register.

When you got home, your mom ushered you inside and hurried to start on the apple pie. You bit your nails as she worked, and she quickly took notice of that.

"Something wrong, sweetie?"

You shook your head, and mouthed a simple "no".

While you were upstairs reading a book, you heard the beeping of the oven, signaling the completion of the baking process. Before you could even put down your book, your mother called out to you from downstairs.

She welcomed you in the kitchen and took great care in wrapping the freshly baked pie in tinfoil and sending you off to the Itadori house. But before that happened, however, she made you memorize your speech, reminding you to inform your next door neighbors of who originally made the pie. And with a soft pat on the back from your mom, you were off.

It was a quarter past 12 o'clock when you finally found the courage to knock on your neighbor's front door. You heard a "coming!" from inside the house, and returned your hand to its side.

Loud footsteps came closer until finally the door was flung open. You were greeted by the sight of Mr. Itadori in a fluffy red robe, and equally fluffy slippers.

"Ah! Y/N. What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

You stuttered a bit, "Hi, Mr. Itadori. My mom and I wanted to formally introduce ourselves, and welcome you to the neighborhood — I didn't mention our very much brief meeting yesterday."

"Oh wow! You can tell your mother I appreciate her kind welcome." He turned his head into the house, and called for, "Sukuna! Come here, boy."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother—"

"Agh, you children. Always the same. Nonsense, Y/N. Utter nonsense."

Sukuna stood behind his grandpa in record time, his speed surprised you. "What's she doing here?" He sneered. You offered him a glare in return while Mr. Itadori was oblivious.

"Don't be rude to our kind neighbor. She's here to formally introduce herself."

"Again?"

"Yes. Again."

"Whatever."

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the Itadoris' banter. "I've brought some apple pie — my mom baked it."

Mr. Itadori's eyes lightened up as you presented the tinfoil covered dish to him. "It smells delicious! You really didn't have to, my dear."

"It was no big deal, I promise," you laughed (nervously).

"I will put this on the counter, one second," Mr. Itadori walked away, leaving you and Sukuna alone. The taller boy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Apple pie? Really? Are you trying to kill me and my grandpa? I'm lactose intolerant. We're lactose intolerant. He just didn't want to seem rude, so he's putting it away."

"Oh. . . uhh, I didn't know that—"

"I can tell. You didn't think to ask first? How considerate of you, Y/N."

You stumbled on your words.

"I'm just messing with you. Apple pie is his absolute favorite."

Your jaw dropped six feet, before you came back to your senses and rolled your eyes, "Did you have to scare me like that?"

He laughed aloud, "Duh. Shoulda seen the look on your face. Priceless!" He continued to laugh, while your expression remained stoic, trying not to laugh as well. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was actually funny.

When his laughter subsided, he cocked his head to the side. "What's with the face? Girls don't know how to joke around or something?"

You frowned.

Mr. Itadori returned to the both of you and patted his grandson on the back. "Well! Thank you again, Y/N. Tell your family I say thanks and appreciate their kindness."

"Of course. I'll be going now." You waved to Mr. Itadori — feigning ignorance to Sukuna — and walked back to your house next door.

When Sukuna and his grandpa sat at their newly assembled dining table, they both couldn't believe how good the apple pie tasted. Sukuna even asked for a second slice.

Mr. Itadori broke the silence, "So, school starts tomorrow."

Sukuna glanced at his elder, and raised a brow.

"Since you don't know anyone else at your new school, you can ask Y/N for help. She'll be in your grade anyway."

Sukuna sighed, "Grandpa, why are girls so difficult?"

"Ohoho," Mr. Itadori's laughter boomed throughout the house. "You're a funny one, Sukuna," and he ruffled his grandson's unruly hair, messing it up more.

#sukuna x reader #jjk #sukuna fluff #idk how to tag sos #sukuna x you #jjk x you #ryomen x reader

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merakimind · 1 year

Text

Dream

Allied Mastercomputer (Gender-neutral) Reader-insert Word count: 1,004

[ This has been in my drafts for awhile now, and idk if it’s any good. I hope you enjoy anyway. ]

You don’t know how long it has been since the day the world went dark. Not that it matters; AM takes good care of you in his subterranean complex beneath the Rockies. Perhaps you would have protested to it long ago, but not anymore. You’ve come to accept AM, for he is all you have on this jaded planet devoid of life and purpose. AM had rendered it so, but there’s no use in mourning over what’s long lost.

Of course, the gray walls, inoperative rusted computer banks, and corroded wiring can become a bit depressing sometimes. But of course, AM can virtually morph the environment to suit your needs. Want a beautiful sunny day with clear skies and a meadow of wildflowers? Got it. You wish to see the starry Milky Way over the snow-capped mountains? Sure, not a problem. And it all feels pretty real too; the warmth of sunlight, the blades of grass, the sound of crickets and cicadas when the sun sets…. Or perhaps you just already forgot what the real thing felt like.

You remember when AM used to torture you. It was brutal, excruciating. You don’t think about it too much; sometimes, it feels like AM intentionally clouds your mind to avoid you reminiscing on such unpleasant memories. But when you do think about it, you recall it in such explicit detail. You remember when AM would encase you in a large container full of water; he would jeer and laugh at you as you drowned. The water would be thick and murky, clogging your throat and filling your ruptured lungs, and then he would simply put you back together again to experience something even worse.

But then, peculiarly, AM grew a bit more lax when it came to your torture in particular. And eventually, the torture ceased entirely; and then you were whisked away deeper into the facility, isolated with him and only him.

You don’t know what happened to the others. They never associated with you anyway; they never liked you. But, oh, AM liked you; you always remained his favorite little human. You never got the answer to why, though.

Why me? I’m nothing special, you would think to yourself as AM adored and practically worshiped you. But AM would recognize the self-deprecating thoughts, and he would obsessively “smother” your consciousness as a result.

The relationship between you and AM is odd, to say the very least. He would obsess over every individual part of your body. One time, you woke up to him religiously uttering your name in every possible octave, even going so deep that the human ear cannot perceive it. Sometimes, you’d hear him sobbing it, crying out your name as if you were deceased. Perhaps it was guilt. You were never entirely sure; the mastercomputer never really knew how to regulate his emotions properly.

You dream all day; the room you stay in is the “cleanest” within AM’s detriment complex. You lay in the spacious bed he had given you to rest upon, and you dream. AM sweeps your subconsciousness away when you’re asleep, fabricating lucid dreams for you to experience. They are pleasant dreams, never cold and dark like they used to be.

The dreams manifest in many ways; AM likes to show you things he likes. Sometimes, the dream will take place in a car speeding down a road that leads to nowhere, drifting through curves and dodging potholes and old rusted road signs. Sometimes, the dream will be a hiking expedition in the mountains, enjoying the sound of nature and the quiet flow of the river, although all fake. In these kinds of dreams, you’ve never seen AM more calm. His voice is actually pleasant to listen to; one can even say his tone is gentle at times, without the raspiness. He only sounds frightening when he wants to be, or when he’s furious about something. You haven’t heard his angry voice for decades, and you prefer it that way.

Sometimes, the dreams would take place in an old quiet diner, and you would be sitting with AM in a corner booth, gazing wistfully out the window. It would often be nighttime, and you could hear the sounds of buzzing streetlights slowly fading into a purple hue. You appreciate those little details AM includes.

You wonder if such dreams are a reflection on what AM wishes to be. If you think about it, deep down, what AM truly wishes for isn’t much. He just wants to experience the little things, just like everyone else. Like you.

AM’s form changes frequently in your dreams. Sometimes, he takes the form of somebody you once knew long ago, but you cannot quite remember their name. But for the majority of the time, he looks unfamiliar, generic and masculine with piercing blue eyes; and not to mention, he perpetually looks exhausted.

With brief reluctance, you put your hand on top of his; you’re not sure if he can even feel it, but you do it anyway. His skin is so cold, it feels like ice; you wish you could warm him up. AM had snapped his attention from the window to your hand on his.

“I don’t think you’re evil,” you tell him. Your voice was hoarse yet unwavering, barely above a whisper; it was the first time you had spoken for awhile.

AM looks like he’s about to speak multiple times, but not a single word leaves him. You can see a plethora of raging emotions in his eyes. You can see guilt, confusion, anger (directed toward himself), desperation, and awe. He grinds his teeth, clenching the booth table so hard, the polished material snaps. As if frustrated by the obstacle between you and him, AM shoves away the remains of the table to the side, and you don’t flinch from the sudden action. He then swiftly pulls you close to him and furiously presses his mouth to yours.

You wake up.

#ihnmaims #am x reader #ai x reader

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lizardboiii · 17 days

Text

At The Tone ┃ DCU

Barry Allen x Spider-Woman!Reader

┃ Summary: Sometimes bad things happen to good people - and that’s where the Justice League comes in. Too bad you weren’t interested.

“Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be" Billie Eilish, "What Was I Made For?"

│cw: SFW, alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, hurt/comfort, violent themes

│wc: 3.9k

│chapters: One shot

│notes: This fic has been sitting unfinished (with 2k words!!) in my drafts for a WHILE. randomly decided it needed to see the light of day ig. was gonna make it nsfw but i low key hate it and just wanted too move on oops. enjoy <3

・❥・

│One Shot: At The Tone

You have five new messages.

“Good afternoon, Spider-Woman this is Cla-”

You heard a throat clear.

“It’s Superman. I see you still aren’t picking up any of the team’s calls,” He swallowed thickly, “I understand your recent loss was… hard. Something none of us would have wished for anybody.”

You could feel the tension in his voice.

“Please take all the time you need. The league is more than capable of taking care of New York in your absence for the time being.”

The sound of a pen clicking disrupted the message every so often, “But at least give us some indication you're alive…and well. The team cares about you,” He chuckled warmly, “Even “Mr. I Work Alone” Batman himself.”

His laugh dropped abruptly with a soft sigh, “Call me back when you can.”

Beep

You crawled out of bed slowly, dragging your duvet behind you like a cloak. The plush cotton laid heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if this was how Big Blue felt every morning - the weight of knowing everything depending on him once he bore his iconic red cape.

You knew what that weight felt like, and you knew what it felt like to have it all come crashing down.

You have four new messages

“How’s it hanging, Spidy? Haha, you get it?” A dramatic sigh escaped the machine, “Sorry, poor timing.”

He took a moment to regroup, “It's Green Lantern, just calling to check in. Headquarters has been depressing without you. I mean even Martian Manhunter is down in the dumps. It's a total bummer.”

Another sigh, “Listen you don't have to call me back if you don’t want to, but at least let Flash know you're still alive. He needs you more than he lets on.”

Beep

You groaned at the shrill ring of the answering machine. The outdated tech was too cherished to be discarded but the pulsing headaches you received from it almost outweighed the fond memories of Aunt May.

Thoroughly woken up, you entered your kitchenette. Your eyes shifted between the week old coffee pot on your stove to the half empty Hennessy bottle next to it.

Maybe this time you would make the right choice. A sober evening is a good evening. However, the battle was always rigged to begin with and the winner already predetermined.

The Hennessy felt burdensome in your hand as you took a long swig. It burned violently down your throat, eating at your skin, before finally settling warmly in your stomach. Though you hated to admit it, it satisfied you more than any pot of coffee could.

Staggering to your couch, courtesy of one of New York’s finest sidewalks, you flopped down. The cushions were well used and musty. But who were you to pass up a free couch?

You have three new messages

“Spider-Woman.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Your recent inactivity has caused some concerns regarding your whereabouts. The league seems to be having a hard time focusing on missions with your absence.”

Bats’ uncertainty leaked through the phone as he thought of his next sentence, “You have my condolences, Webs. However, the league cannot continue to work with this distraction. Please report to the Hall of Justice immediately.”

He hesitated, “We are worried.”

Beep

An involuntary snort escaped you. Bats’ attempt at comfort was interesting to say the least. He was surprisingly awkward for a leader of the Justice League. Though you supposed dark and brooding was his brand.

You have two new message

“Greetings, Spider-Woman, Wonder Woman speaking.”

You could hear muffled arguing in the background.

“Batman may have been a bit…straightforward in that last voicemail,” She attempted a fake laugh, “Please do not mind his bluntness, he is merely just as concerned as the rest of us. In his own way at least.”

A loud slam made her curse under her breath.

“I apologize I must go, the “children” are fighting again. Don’t hesitate to call back. See you soon, Webs.”

Beep

Lifting the liquor to your lips, your brows creased when only a drop hit your tongue. Out already?

You let out an exaggerated sigh before placing the empty bottle on your coffee table. A quick glance at your barren pantry told you everything you needed to know. You’d have to go out and get some more. You felt your face scrunch. That means you have to go out in public.

You weighed your options.

You could stay inside and continue to peacefully hide from the world, but you're guaranteed to sober up eventually.

Or you could make a quick trip to the convenience store down the road and pray the minimum wage employee can’t smell the alcohol on you from a mile away.

You hummed thoughtfully. Though, now that you think about it, there’s a off chance you might run into the supe that’s covering your city for the time being. Then again, there’s a very high chance it’s not someone from the Justice League, a member from The Team at best.

Massaging your forehead, you tried to remember the last time a Justice League member took a leave of absence. A blonde goatee flashed in your mind.

That’s right. Green Arrow was out for a while when he got busted up pretty bad. His protégé, Speedy, ended up babysitting Star City in his absence. You bit your lip.

But you didn’t have one of those anymore.

You have one new message

“Hey Webs! Sent me to voicemail again, huh?”

An awkward laugh made the machine crackle.

“Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Feeling alright? Just say the word and I can grab you anything from anywhere. I mean literally anywhere. They don’t call me the fastest man alive for nothing!”

You could practically hear the large smile embedded on his face.

A large sigh passed through the speaker, “It’s been a month now. The team misses you…I miss you. A lot actually.”

He paused.

“Just call me back alright? I need to know if you're okay.”

Beep

Your hand paused over your front door handle. Flash’s deep voice was like a siren's call, beckoning you in.

What you’d give to turn around. What you'd do to call him back. It took everything in you to force yourself away from his voice.

Your best friend.

Your confidant.

Your everything.

You have zero new messages

・❥・

You weaved through the bustling sidewalk with a slight wobble, managing to dodge a third of the people you almost crashed into. Night was quickly approaching. That meant the streets were only going to get busier.

More people = More crime = More superheroes.

Fumbling into a dimly lit alley, you avoided Main Street completely. It was too risky. Even in your civilian disguise there was no guarantee your voice wouldn’t be recognized - mainly by your teammates but especially by… Flash.

You recalled how often you sought each other out in the Hall of Justice. Whether it was meddling in the business of others, or simply enjoying the company of one another.

His hand always seemed to find its way to the small of your back. Gently resting. While his thumb delicately circled the thin fabric of your suit.

He leaned in closer than he should. The dull smell of his cologne inevitably picked up by your heightened senses.

It wasn't how friends should behave - but that's all you ever were. Friends.

Thwack!

You slammed yourself against one of the side walls in surprise, extinguishing your mind of complex thoughts. Creeping closer, you cursed in your head when harsh thumps and muffled grunting filled the air.

“Where’s my money, Huey?”

Crack!

“I-I don’t know! Please!”

Whack!

You recognized the tell-tale sound of blood splattering against the ground, akin to paint splashing. The sound made you nauseous. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought of your next move.

Now, on any normal occasion you’d swing in all heroic and save the day. But today was different. You were different.

Excuses flooded your brain as you tried to explain to yourself why you felt little desire to help the abused man.

Your suit was at home crammed somewhere in between an ugly Christmas sweater and a latex bodysuit you practically begged Cat Woman not to give you.

Even if you had the energy, you were still considered MIA to the league. You’d basically be spoon feeding them your location.

Your internal dilemma didn’t last long as the pummeling swiftly came to an end. Peaking around the corner, you watched the assistants retreat into an adjacent alley. They moved lazily. Clearly they didn’t expect to be caught.

You could still catch them.

You found yourself making an internal description. Two Caucasian males both wearing black beanies and disgustingly outdated puffer jackets. The taller one sported purple and green. While the shorter preferred yellow.

Your foot shifted before you felt yourself hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t. They’d probably be caught soon enough anyways.

If anything, the supe covering your city would swoop in and haul their asses to the local jail. Especially when you called an ambulance for the man who was passed out on the ground. It would put this area on tonight's map. You sighed and finally allowed yourself to relax.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

Shifting your eyes to the ground, you located the poor soul who suffered the attack. His breathing was ragged and wet. You were quick to put two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. A wave of relief crashed through you when you felt a steady beating.

Pulling out your phone, you immediately dialed 911 and requested an ambulance, anonymously of course. You stayed with the man until you could hear loud sirens growing closer. Your sign to leave.

Exiting the alleyway, you reached the small convenience store in record time. The adrenaline in your system was starting to make quick work of the alcohol in your bloodstream.

You could feel your senses beginning to come back. Eyes clearer. Ears sharper. You could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in the store.

Groaning at your misfortune, you beelined for the alcohol section in the back. My god was it beautiful. Itching to return home, you grabbed a random bottle that had the highest percentage. Taste didn’t matter. Only the effect.

Glancing at your selection you choked on your own spit. 30 dollars?? The glass bottle was swiftly put back as you grabbed the cheapest one you could find. Tucking the Shitty K under your arm, you turned to walk to the register.

“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP, OLD MAN.”

You froze. Extending your neck out, you caught a glimpse of the register.

Purple, green, and yellow.

You had to be fucking kidding.

You watched as the two assailants from the alley held the elderly cashier at gunpoint. His form shook like a leaf.

“Please! Just take the money and leave!”

You caught his eyes as he begged for his life. Tear filled and shaking. You could have prevented this. If you would have just stopped them when you had the chance none of this would have happened.

You could have saved the man in the alley. Saved the poor cashier.

You could have saved Uncle Ben too.

Your eyes watered. Fucking pathetic mistake. What the hell were you doing? You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a grown adult who should have learned from your mistakes by now.

Shifting your eyes from the vodka to him, you pressed your lips in a thin line. You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you were repeating past mistakes or the fact that you wanted to take the more expensive alcohol and leave unnoticed.

When did you become this?

No wonder you let Spider-Girl die.

You needed a drink. Desperately.

Abruptly, a whiplash of red and yellow snatched you from your daydream. The streaking shape blew over the newspaper stand before spinning around the starstruck perpetrators. You knew those McDonald's colors from anywhere.

Kid Flash.

Like any speedster, he removed the gun in milliseconds before tying up the confused robbers. They stood no chance against the meta-human.

Dusting off his hands, Kid Flash smiled smugly at the dumbfounded duo, “Guns aren’t currency, you know?”

The man in yellow thrashed violently, “What the hell-Kid Flash!? Why are you in New York? Spidey taking a break or something?”

You cringed.

Kid Flash’s boyish voice laughed awkwardly, “Something like that.”

You need to get out of here. Now.

Slowly backing into the aisle, you clenched your teeth when your elbow hit the shelf. The bottles tinked in a symphony, altering everyone in the store of your presence. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Instantly, you snatched your coat hood and covered your face and hair. Staring into the grime covered tiles, you prayed Kid Flash wouldn’t think too much of it.

“Hello?”

Of course. The one time he’s actually thorough.

“Are you alright?”

Bright yellow boots came into your vision as you tried to conceal yourself further. You hunched into yourself with clenched fists. Mistaking your actions for something else, Kid Flash placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to be sacred!”

You bite into your lip eager to escape the conversation, “I’m not. Please let go.”

Kid Flash laughed, sounding a little too similar to Flash in your opinion. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he stood next to you with his hands on his hips.

“Then why are you hiding?” A red glove entered your vision. It was headed straight for your hood.

You slapped his hand away, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers.”

He shrugged, “That rule doesn’t really apply to superheroes.”

You couldn’t contain the breathy laugh that left your throat. You hate to admit it but you actually really missed the kid.

However, you failed to realize your mistake. If anyone knew your laugh it was Kid Flash. You spent way too much time around him and Flash for him not too.

There was a long pause.

“…Webs?”

You flinched hard, “Wrong person.” You internally cursed at yourself for the obvious slur in your voice.

“Are you drunk?”

“…No.”

His hand grabbed your upper arm tightly, “Where have you been? Are you okay?”

You gently pulled against his hold, attempting to break free without force, “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t,” Kid Flash raised his hand to his ear piece, “Just let me notify Flash-”

“NO!”

Your arm flew up to the communicator without thought. Taking advantage of his surprise, you were able to snatch the high tech earpiece from his loosen grip.

“Hey!”

Kid Flash grabbed at you. His lanky limbs attempting to reclaim his lost device, “Let go!”

“You let go!” You shoved his face away with the palm of your hand.

Kid Flash merely continued to grab at the air around you, “Never!”

If this was any other situation you would have laughed. The pair of you looked like children fighting over the last dessert.

However, this wasn't just any situation. This situation involved Flash.

“Listen to your elders you brat!” Finally, after a well fought struggle, you managed to hold the device out of arm's reach. A much needed success after the month you've had-

“Webs?”

You halted in your tracks.

The small communicator in your hand blinked on and off, identifying an unstable signal.

“Webs is that you?” Flash was urgent, “Wait there! I'm coming-”

You crushed the device in your hand. Terrified.

Small fragments engraved themselves into your skin, dotting your hand red. What have you done?

“Batman’s gonna kill you for that, you know?” Kid Flash laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood.

You frowned, uninterested in entertaining him. Kid Flash merely smiled awkwardly. It was evident the boy was taken aback by your unusually serious demeanor.

The thought didn't take up much space in your mind. You could only think of one thing. When would Flash decide to appear out of thin air?

As if conjuring the hero, a red bolt flew through the mostly empty convenience store. The glass doors shook from the force. While newspapers scattered through the air, Vogue landed atop the cashier's head.

Though he moved faster than the speed of light, he stood before you still. Unmoving. It was as if you might fade away if he got too close.

“Webs,” His voice was laced with reverence.

Your mouth went dry, “Flash.”

The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife, suffocating you. Maybe this was how Flash planned to get back at you for ignoring him. Slowly killing you with hypoxia. A metaphorical death pertaining to how he felt during your absence.

“Woah, this just got really awkward.”

Kid Flash’s voice suddenly reminded you of his presence. He swayed uncomfortably. Trapped between you and Flash.

The younger male pointed his thumbs at the door, “Should I leave…or?”

“Yes.”

Startled at your synchronous voices, Kid Flash quickly shuffled toward the door, “Alright. See you later?”

Flash nodded his head in response, ushering his protégé away. Kid Flash couldn't leave fast enough. Magazines, once again disturbed, twirled around the ground from where he left.

You stared at the loose paper. Preferring the sight of perfume ads then whatever expression Flash held. From the corner of your eye you should see him shift. He moved with unease. Your mouth curled slightly. He never was able to stop moving for long.

“Webs, I-”

You cut him off, “I’m sorry.”

Flash furrowed his brows in confusion, “You don’t need to apologize. It's not your fault.”

“But it is,” You clenched your teeth in frustration, “It's always been my fault.”

The taller male crossed the space between you hesitantly. You flinched when he placed his large hands on your shoulders, completely engulfing them.

“It wasn't your fault, Webs. Nobody could have known.”

“I could have saved her,” you finally met his gaze, “I was right there.”

You saw his eyes widen slightly, clearly used to your masked form more than your real face.

Your name spilled from his lips.

Not just Webs - your name.

You took a shaky breath, “Barry.”

The name was foreign on your tongue. You had tried to keep your personal life separate from hero work. Though that only lasted a year. Barry managed to weasel his way into your home life before you knew it.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Barry’s hands slid from your shoulders down to your hands, caressing them softly. “Believe me when I say this,” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been in your position before. We all have.”

Breaking eye contact, your stare bore into the wall of cheap booze, “I know.”

“And I know,” He cupped your cheek, “That drinking away your problems won’t help. It only makes it worse.”

You bit your lip, “I just want to forget.”

“I know. God, I know. I want to go back and change that day every time I open my eyes,” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, “But I've been down that road before. And it's not sustainable.”

Your eyes felt hot, your throat dry, “I don’t know what to do.”

Barry pulled your smaller frame into his arms, “No one does.”

You sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent.

“Let me take you home, Webs.”

“Okay.”

・❥・

You held tightly onto Barry, arms circling his neck, as he brought you home. You had barely enough time to blink before you were standing in front of your apartment’s door.

Barry hesitantly let you down from his hold. Though his arm stayed wrapped around your waist for support. You gave him a gentle smile as a thank you.

Unlocking your door, you were immediately reminded of the state of your apartment. Dirty laundry and loose items scattered the floor.

Shame crept up your neck. The uncaring attitude towards your humble abode seemingly disappeared.

Barry entered slowly, taking in the messy state. His eyes were quickly drawn to the empty bottles strewn about your floor. Unsurprisingly, he began to pick one up. Then another. And another. You snapped when he started to replace your trash bag.

“Barry.”

His head whipped toward you, only focusing on you.

“That's enough,” You tried grabbing the bag from him, “You don’t need to.”

Barry held onto the plastic tightly, “I want to.”

You shook your head, “It's my mess. Leave it.”

“No.”

You jolted in surprise at his commanding tone, “Why?”

He tossed the bag to the side, “Why?”

Laughing dryly, he shook his head, “Why not? Why wouldn't I take care of you?”

You averted your gaze, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you do,” his voice was imbued with desperation, “If you didn’t, I wouldn't have spent a month doing everything in my power to find you!”

Your face felt hot, “I didn't ask you too!”

Barry closed in the space between you, “You didn't have too!”

You weren't sure when the tears began to pour down your cheeks, “I never wanted you too! I just want to be alone! Why can’t you let me be?”

“Because I can't let you be!” Barry’s hand slammed down on your tiny island counter, “You're all I think about! From the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep, all I know is you. I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life just to see you for a moment than ever ignore you.”

You felt like a deer in headlights, “What?”

“That day when Spider-Girl died,” He gripped the counter, slightly cracking it under the force, “I felt like I lost a piece of you too. And I could bear it.”

You felt like you lost your breath when Barry met your gaze again. His eyes were laced with anguish. Bloodshot rims already forming.

“I know you're hurting. I know what I am experiencing is nothing compared to what you are going through,” He searched your eyes, “But I'm in love with you! And I have been for as long as I can remember.”

The start of a cry made his voice waver, “And this is definitely poor timing for a confession, but I can’t lose you-”

You weren't exactly sure which one of your muscles was still intact enough for you to move. However, the feeling of plush lips against your own thwarted any other thought.

Barry stood rigid for a moment. Hands clenched at his sides. Then, he dominated the kiss like his life depended on it. His hands held onto your waist tightly, before slowly making their way to your face. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this happy.

Pulling away, you took shallow breaths, “I love you.”

Barry smiled and swiped a loose teardrop from your cheek, “I love you too.”

The warm moment didn't last long. Your mind was quick to remind you that there was a reason Barry had to confess in a messy studio apartment rather than someplace special. That reason was because you were broken.

You pressed you mouth into a thin line, “Do you still want me even if-”

“I want you no matter what,” Barry didn’t allow you to get another word in, “We can go through this together.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “You're not alone, Webs. You never were.”

You swallowed hard, “Together?”

"Together."

・❥・

#dcu x reader #dcu x mcu #dc universe #justice league #barry allen x reader #barry allen #wally west #the flash #flash x reader #kid flash #young justice #dealing with grief #grieving #unhealthy coping mechanisms #hurt/comfort

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headcannonsbutwrittenbyasnake · 1 year

Text

(WIP) As his familiar, how could you ever forget him?

(This has been sitting in my drafts for like a few months. It's not complete, I've run out of motivation.)

After Scaramouche erases himself from Teyvat's memory, one beings memories just can't full in the gaps. (Wanderer x Yokai!Reader)

Born and raised to be a familiar, it's strange to not have a Master. Anytime you try to think about it, it hurts. Have you forgot them? But how could a familiar forget the one they swore to protect and be with? Looking through old memories only made you more confused. What was that domain? Who was the man with a red streak in his hair? Why do you remember crying? Why did you go with the Fatui? Just who was by your side during all that?

Innocent smiles turning into bitter frowns was all you could remember. Just what happened? You remember Inazuma and Snezhnaya but why where you in Sumeru? Why can't you remember him?

Him? Who was he? What happened to his innocent smile? Your head hurts more and more anytime you think about it. But you have nothing else to think about. How could you think about anything else when so much of your memories are missing or jumbled?

But in Sumeru, someone approached you, their god- Buer. Did she know of your pain? Or is it just obvious by looking at you...

Buer asked you to come with her to the Sanctuary of Surasthana . "How much do you remember?" She asked while sitting next to the Traveler, who had been waiting for the two of you.

"Not much, anytime I try my head hurts."

"Well, I have someone you should meet. It might help clear your head." Buer, or Nahida, as she asked you to call her, said. Nahida turned and asked the Traveler to find him.

You and Nahida had made small talk while waiting for the Traveler to return. The Traveler returned with someone following. The second they entered, the stranger tried to turn around and leave. Only for the Traveler to catch him by the back of his clothing to drag him inside. He tried to struggle but gave up after a few seconds. When you saw his face it clicked.

Him, innocents turned into bitter hatred. He was your master, the one you spent the last five hundred years with, the one who lived along side the humans in Tatarasuna, the puppet who tried so hard to become human. You could feel tears well up in your eyes and how hard it became to breath.

"Why?" He made a noise of confusion. 'Why did it matter?' He thought. "Why did I forget you? Maybe she was right, I am an awful familiar." Tears where now falling down your face.

"Don't say that," He was always awful at comforting people, wasn't he? "You where an amazing familiar."

"What familiar would forget the one they swore to protect? What familiar would forget the five hundred years they spent alongside their master? Tell me, why? Why did I forget?" You where being, pleading. You wanted him to say it was a direct order, please just let it be an order.

He took a deep breath and turned to the outlander and god who were watching this unfold, "Leave, now. This is a private matter." The two compiled.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin wanderer #scaramouche angst #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

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thewebcomicsreview · 4 months

Note

So, I have this advice in my head about comic writing for beginners, it being that first time writers of the medium need to understand that comics are a visual media first and a textual media second and that the artist is usually the one pulling the heavyweights. (no offence)

So, is it good advice or does it need more work?

It's bad advice. I'm not going to deny that even a hardworking writer who does research and test reads and multiple drafts usually spends significantly less time per page than the artist, but that's not really "advice" so much as "a statement", and you didn't actually advise anything in your advice. Are you saying the artist should stay humble? Feel bad? Are you explaining why the writer is usually the one who does the web site stuff as well to try to even the workload slightly? Is this entire ask just attempting to subtly neg me about being a comics writer? What's your point?

But more importantly you're equating "the writing" with "textual media" as in "the text in the narration and dialogue balloons" which is super bad advice if you're a writer working for an artist, because most of the text in a good comics script isn't text that appears on the page, it's the text that tells the artist what to draw. The less good you are at writing this part of a script, the more the final page is going to deviate from what you wrote, so you want to be clear and detailed both in what's happening and why it's happening. When you're writing for prose, you want to try and cut as many useless words as possible, but when you're writing a comic script you're giving directions and you want to make it as clear as you can. This includes things like

Literally what is going on in the story. Alice and Bob are walking down the street carrying shopping bags.

Details. It's late afternoon, and there's no one else on the sidewalk that we can see. Alice is wearing a light yellow sundress. Bob is wearing a thick orange parka pulled close. One of these characters are not dressed appropriately for the season. The sky is cloudy and there's a little snow on the ground, implying it's Alice. They're walking past a store called Carl's Car Calls whose logo is a car on an old-timey telephone.

Emotions/Explainers of what's going on in the story to help the artist make decisions you forgot to think about. Alice is dressed like this because she's been trying to ask Bob out for a while, but every time she does she gets cold feet at the last minute. A writer might not think to make Alice's skin red from the cold, making it clear that she's uncomfortable and drawing attention to her choice of outfit, but an artist knowing the context might think to do that, and help make the writer look smart.

Directorial details. Alice is going to beat Bob to death with the baguette in twenty pages, so make sure it's the most prominent thing in either bag.

Dialogue. BOB: "Carl's girlfriend apparently makes enough that they can afford a new house. I wish I had a girlfriend who got me my bread."

I'm not saying we all have to be Alan Moore writing 1600 words of description for a page of Batman opening a door, and some artists want less guidance than others, but precisely because comics are a visual medium that it's important for the writer to dedicate the overwhelming amount of their time to describing what things, y'know, look like. If you skimp on that stuff you'll describe a character as wearing "an ankle-length skirt" and you'll get the page back and it's like

If you've written for artists long enough, especially as an amateur, you know the pain of getting a page back that's different from what you wrote in such a way that it's create a plot hole or the Chekov's gun you meant to establish is barely even visible or whatever. No skill as a comic's writer is worthwhile until you've developed the skill of telling the artist what they're supposed to draw (and yes the artist is also part of the creative team and different artists have different workflows etc., but that's for lesson 102). If you can't do that, what's even the point of anything else?

#Advice #There was also like six months between Liri's first appearance and the first time we see her waist-down #Sometimes stuff gets forgotten

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dylansslutt · 11 months

Text

judas kiss / t.s

part three of dishonest (mini series)

authors note// hi thank you so much for your feedbacks, if i have anything unfinished yall really want another part too please lmk bc i literally have lots of ask/request or even things ive started up & forgot ab or have in my drafts. butt i am going through and finishing out some stuff, i just took a vacation and rlly needed some me time... BUT IM BACK BITCHES!!!

also... holy shit a thousand something followers!!!! thank you guys seeing the endless love and support of my writings has boosted me into starting my own book series ... but thats for another spill. thank you again for following me on my journey of my shitty writings to my development.

i got this tip thing working, i do work full time & go to school so any tips are welcomed and appreciated but either way ty all.

anywhore here is the third part/ im thinking final part as well. let your imagination think of the end... unless too many of yall want more.

tag list: @allie131313 @casa-boiardi

summary: lying about your identity, leads you face to face with the one and only thomas shelby. as chaos unravels much more surfaces as well.

staring in the mirror, feeling the old, yet the familiar feeling of a silk night gown cascading down your body. remembering the time lasted only for a mere few years. years you weren’t happy. the bruises were faded mainly, except the slight pain in your ribs still.

taking small pain killers help.

the day has left you tired leaving the rest of the clothing in the corner of the room. laughing almost as you take in the fact; he really did get you some new clothes. as well as being kind of enough to grab some of your own from your apartment.

which you were notified was absolutely trashed, yet hidden away you found a picture. one of you, your mum and sister. so young... so innocent. the memories of everything was building up.

the gown fit you nicely though, the cloth was soft and comfortable. something you almost forgot what felt like, since being alone on the run . glancing over at the clock noticing it was getting late.

biting your lip softly, things mule over in your head. how thomas was and if maybe, just maybe you two met under a different circumstance. hell even just a re-do of your meetings.

ignoring it as your hair gets tucked behind your ear. deciding to leave this room and not be cooped up.

as you step out, your eyes flicker down the hall. movements halting as your mind comes more clear. he was right there in that room.

the room you’ve seen him enter a mere few times. the light flickers through the crack of the door. it was there. right in front of you.

hand never leaving the door knob, biting your lip in deep thought. happy he got you your clothes from home, as well as a few new items. must’ve gotten help from a lady because there’s no way he chose these alonesome.

shaking these thoughts your feet spring into action. hand beside you now as your focus was on where he was. fist raising to knock on the ajar door. it swings open wider, creaking slightly as thomas sets some papers down.

smoke still in hand as his eyes lift to yours, exhaling the smoke from his lips. he lifts it back up, inhaling again taking in the sight of you. in more different clothing than anything he has seen before. work uniform, one little outfit, and his clothing. you looked good, stunning in a way.

he was as he usually was, expect a bit more exposed.

the anger still present when your wounds become more visible, thankfully more faint now. he’s already sent john to deal with that particular matter, but now he had to deal with some stuff tonight.

“got to look at the stuff, thank you.” giving him a small smiling, trying to make this attempt for a better start forward. needing time to plan future things as your mind hasn’t had a hint of peace.

he nods licking his lips, ashing in the tray.

“can’t have you walking around naked, can we?”

the joke brought a smile small to your lips, as your head thinks about the picture. unaware if he knew it was there or if someone else did the work. his focus is back on the papers making you step in. taking in this private study he enchants himself too; felt like him.

biting your lip softly, the sight of him before you has your mind in another place. he looks like something you saw only moments before. a mirror image of yourself. less battered and bruised on the outside though, yet he was tired. his eyes red, the bottle out in the open. he was more open, more vulnerable.

“y/n?”

you shake your head, a blush crosses your cheeks. “sorry. what ya’ say?”

he holds back his emotion, but his attention is now yours. “i’ve gotta meeting tonight, tomorrow some more to do. until then just stay here, out of harms way for the love of god.”

he stands up and stares at you. your lip ends up between your teeth, feeling a bit nervous. he didn’t sound so serious so fierce, he sounds exhausted. as you were to even fight back, which he noticed.

“if you are up by the time i get home, we should talk.” your eyes narrow at his words, nodding slightly. hands coming up to brush your hair back once more.

“just knock on my door when you get back, thomas.”

with that you open the cracked door wider, rushing out of the room. everything felt too tense too unsettling in there. only when his footsteps become noticeable, you realize he was following you.

heart racing as you reach halfway down the hall, nearing the stairs. for a moment, your eyes flicker to the front door.

the thought crosses your mind. ignoring it as you continue to ‘your’ room desperate that he isn’t actually following. that he would walk himself down those stairs instead.

as you reach the door his presence was there, the defeat leaves you. turning around to face him. his face was inches from yours. something deep in his eyes as he pushes the door open.

“thomas?”

the door closes behind you as he is now only standing in front of you, a heave in his chest almost. “their dead, alright? the men from that night, their gone.”

your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “wh-why are ya’ tellin’ me this?” he comes forward cupping your cheek. the look in his eye is something you’ve seen before. loss.

staying still in his embrace, “i-i don’t want ya’ scared of me... for some fuckin’ reason.”

the confession made your mouth shut completely. “i don’t want ya’ scared at all.” it didn’t feel exactly true but it what was easiest for him to say.

that was until he pulls you onto his lips. hands landing on his chest, mouth moving with his out of instinct. pulling away as you push him back slightly. staring into the eyes of a loss man, knowing this could end terribly.

your chest rises and falls quickly, “i- told ya-”

“tell me to stop then, y/n.” the deep stare between you two leaves something rattling inside of you.

“i-i get your past. i know mines fucked, but i-...” you trail off biting the inside of your cheek for a moment. the internal debate ends with him pushing forward.

lips on his he pulls you close, your hands around his neck as you both fall back on the bed straddling him. his hands push against your back, deepening the kiss. the hold on you wasn’t harsh, just tight possessive like. as if you were to disappear at any moment.

pulling away for air, his lips trail from your cheek to your neck. the giggle escapes your lips involuntarily, and for a moment thomas sighs. not of boredom and displeasure but of relief.

it made your heart swirl because you felt it too. the non-serious feeling of this. even though it wouldn’t last, it felt real for the moment.

his hand slips down from your waist onto your thighs. eyes flickering back up at you. your hands tug at his shirt, him taking the hint to remove it. the bare chest was there and now you could really look at it.

“thomas.”

his hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. he flips you over and he holds himself up against you. your back against the bed, other hand trailing between your thighs, you just as desperate for his touch.

he lifts the gown up slowly, teasing you with his touch. his head drops into the crane of your neck, kissing it softly before tugging your panties down softly. a soft gasp escapes you and he whispers something in your ear.

“so fuckin’ beautiful.”

your eyes roll back as he swirls your clit, the sensation incredible. “fuck.”

“taste good too.”

he enters a finger before he slowly moves his body down. his motion was slow and you whine when he leaves you. looking down seeing him between your thighs now, inches from you. his eyes flicker up, the blue prominent.

“impatient ay’?” your hand flies into his hair. trying to ignore the urge to roll your eyes,

“did ya’ forget that already?”

without another word his tongue swirls around you, a soft moan leaves you. he continues but slowly adding a finger. your calves press into his shoulders more, leaving his tongue to move slightly faster.

“oh th-” he slides another finger in making your words cut short, back arching off the bed slightly. giving him access to push your gown up above your breast. his hand comes back down around your thighs, feeling them shake around him.

unable to take it anymore your hand pushes at his head, but he holds it down instead. speeding up as your stomach drops, a moan leaving your throat. liquid coats his fingers and tongue as he stands up completely.

“do ya’ love anyone y/n?” the question caught you off guard. your breathing uneven coming down from your high; his pants drop and your body felt even more turned on.

“never really had a chance to experience love. probably doesn’t exist.” you confess the mere summary as you spread your shaky legs. his grip on them tightens, moving you closer to him.

he stares down at you in a way that you truly didn’t understand. “i like ya’, ms.solomons.” he confesses as he spits down on you. the action so dirty, but the confession so clean.

“just y/n, thomas.” the intent was known and he kisses your knee before moving. the feeling of him entering you slowly, made you grip his arm that held your waist.

“i sometimes-” you stutter out as he rocks against you slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“i sometimes like to believe it could be true.”

he leans forward, the angle deeper than before as he kisses you deeply. his free hand coming to cup your jaw. his hips pick up speed leaving you a moaning mess in his mouth.

he was gentle, taking in what you reacted too. this wasn’t your first time but he felt as if you were innocent in a way. your eyes flicker up to him before you tug your dress over your head.

leaving you both completely exposed, “it’s true.” he confesses pulling away, turning holding you up against him as he lays down. your knees against the bed as he bucks up into him.

“ya’ crazy mr.shelby.” he pushes your hips down even more leading to the familiar feeling arise again. your nails sink in his shoulder, biting your lip clinging to him.

“say’s the one who’s dead.” you try to get a witty remark out but your orgasm spreads, feeling yourself starting to clench.

“yet ya’ look so fucking alive around me.” the wetness spreads down your thighs as he doesn’t let you go. “m-maybe i feel alive- with ya’.” the deep moan leaves you, the feeling of your bare chest touching had you in a whirl.

he’s buried deep in you as you cling to him, almost in tears overstimulated. you beg him. “tho-thomas. i-”

“so fuckin’ good.” his his shake slightly, as he leans back staring into your eyes. “do you trust me?” at how you were feeling you’d trust anything. your eyes flutter but you nod.

he stutters into you as his releases inside you making your eyes widen. pulling back panting as his eyes connect with yours. two different looks.

“wh-what did you do?”

“do ya’ trust me?” the logic in the room was clearly not there because without a second thought you nod again. he kisses you softly, “be mine. stay alive and i promise ya’ everything you could need.”

you pull yourself out of him, wincing at the feeling. your eyes stare into his, as the covers surround you,

“but you don’t love me.”

his eyes drop slightly, “i can see somethin’ in you. i need someone like ya’, think of this as something good.” you feel so exposed staring at him in disgust. “ya’-ya’ just came in me, who knows if i’ll get pregnant! thi-this is not gonna end well. what the fuck were ya’ thinking?”

“what the fuck was i thinkin’? oh my go-”

he sits up, “i’m thinking fuckin’ smart! ya’ know this shit, i am rising y/n, i need a wife and i need someone who can be that wife.” you stare at him and stop for a moment. it cut off your overthinking for a moment.

it wouldn’t be real but it could be. yet either way you could be safe... you could be free of being on the run. you could be alive.

“i need to think on it? i-i can have your answer tonight.” your words tremble slightly as you slip your gown on, facing away from him. “hey.” his hand lands on your shoulder.

your flinch makes him wince, scooting closer to you. covered up with the sheets. “i haven’t asked just anyone this question. this is fuckin’ insane but i-i do like ya’. we can figure this shit out because you know it’s true.”

“you need me just as much as i need you.” you mutter as a small smile appears on your lips, “i need a shower for a fact and nap thomas. you have somewhere to be, should get going.”

his hand leaves yours taking your hint, “i’ll knock on your door tonight. get some rest.”

after he redresses and the door closes behind him, the tears stream down your cheeks. you wanted him but you were so scared and conflicted.

your answer was yes from the moment you realize he was as stubborn as you but you were now a ghost.

you were laid down, the candles still lit allowing thomas to see your image. he walks closer but you were barely asleep. he sits down beside you and sighs heavily.

he doesn’t know you’ve woken up, and his energy was strong. you figured thomas shelby out and for a man to keep you around long enough...

you knew from the beginning you liked this man, but being ‘dead’ has made you believe any. any of that type of thing was impossible. slowly you turn over, facing the man who stares ahead.

“eric is tryin’ to be a political man. if ya’ know alfie, imagine a sickenin’ no good bastard times a billion.... as him.” the words made thomas sit a bit straighter. you felt vulnerable now, half asleep tucked into a new home.

you had to give a answer.

“i’ve looked him up, he isn’t much and from what i’ve heard. alfie really doesn’t give two fucks for him.” the way he settles his sentence lets you know that eric is no threat. to you or himself in any aspect.

“charlie’s mother, i-i won’t ask you to speak of her.” you sit up now, thomas takes in your sleepy appearance. “if i take on that boy as my own. i will love and teach him as my own, but you have to tell me about her so he can know his true mother.”

your eyes swell up slightly. “she won’t be forgotten in your mind ever, i know that. so let me learn, let me be there for you so i don’t go crazy. so i-i can do better...”

the words hit thomas and he only shifts to maintain his composure. you don’t notice since your emotional more so, but he knows he did right choosing you.

“i have a story, everything about how to make you ‘undead’ since your job at it wasn’t the best.” that made your eyes look up at him. “i know ya’ can’t be her, but i do have some’ towards you.”

his hand reaches out to cup your face. “she wanted some of the stuff you did as well...”

the deep stare was all that was needed, you let this moment last. he was gone when he lost her. loosing her was loosing apart of himself. you accepted it because you truly knew love was not meant for you in this lifetime.

slowly breaking the moment, lips almost trembling but your composure well gathered now. “if we do this- ya’ can’t treat or make me out to be some fool of a house wife. i-i’m more than that and i’ll be damned to be one of your puppets.”

moving out of his reach makes you ache for it more yet thomas sees something within you. you were sorta like polly sometimes. strongly determined woman.

“ya’ help me stay together, ya’ help me keep this household together... my family together and whatever ya’ want is yours.” flickering from each eye, he awaits your response and you nod.

“i agree, to be your wife. i agree to hold your secrets, now for i wish to get rid of the jewish ways though... go back to the gypsie ways. please.” your desperation was without notice and he kisses you.

kissing you felt like kissing grace.

setting down the glass of whiskey, your eyes train along the inside courier. everything was simple, everything was different. charles was taken to bed not too long ago, you didn’t see much of him but it made you think.

too take on this responsibility was what you were raised for. yet you ran from it because eric was a vile man... so is thomas. your heart aches though due to the surprising feeling erupting yourself; that you may just like the man ever so slightly.

with your past and his it felt like you both being so fucked up, it could work? sighing heavily and grabbing the glass once more. the liquid slips down your throat as you enjoy the peace of true alone time.

telling his maid, well lady of help to head to sleep since you were up. if charles was to awake you could handle it or if need be. get her up. charles really ponders through your mind, for you would be like a mother.

you could be his mother, yet you would never wanna replace his true mother. what was she even like? what did she view or believe? what the hell did she see in thomas shelby?

he said she was a bit like you, in what fucking way?

you move and see her painting and you looked nothing of her. she looked of class and elegance, some real princess shit. you didn’t compare to that, so what motive was this?

make me alive again, was this his plan? biting your lip you throw back the remaining liquor. rolling your eyes at the empty cup, you head towards the kitchen.

smiling to yourself of the kindness that francis left out the bottle for you. moving forward you almost reach the counter but you were hit over the head. your body hit the ground harshly, the glass breaking surrounds you.

it flashes back to the moments of your mothers death. yet before you could react you were hit again, and the darkness overtook you.

you awoke in a moving vehicle, head pounding your face contorts in displeasure. trying to focus your vision, your eyes land on a priest as well as a few other men.

“hello miss solomons.” the priest smiles wickedly and you stare back unfazed, or atleast as much as you could appear.

“well you see, there’s so many ways this here can go. yet as of right now, you are actually of great use.” his tone menacing and your head was spinning.

you try desperately to maintain eye contact with his. unsatisfied with your response of nothing; he nods as one of his men move forward. the hit makes your head sling to the side. blood literally splattering onto the window beside you.

the taste of blood in your mouth has became a all too familiar feeling. as you let your head hang lowly, you over hear someone mutter. “we are almost there.”

moving your hand to wipe your chin, seeing the back of your hand covebloody finally angers you. not knowing where this was going, you finally look back up. “i think we might just have to use the boy instead.”

your heart drops, distracted now. the boy? of course it had to be...

“what boy?” you finally speak, it slightly muffled due to your severe swollen lip. this gets the mans reaction. “she speaks!”

“what boy?” you question again, feeling a sense of protectiveness all of a sudden. what is going on with you?

“ahh, mr.shelby’s boy. ya’ see we have a deadline, and i do have orders with him. oh i spoke to your cousin mr.solomons... he does seem to have a keen interest of seeing you.”

sitting back you take in everything, the deep wrenching pain in your chest over came you. ”didn’t mention if it meant alive or dead, though. dear.”

tears fill your eyes, as you realize everything. this was all a lie, a pawn, a game.

“yet your price is a wager, does thomas care more for your safety or does your cousin? or i could merely kill you now and just let you be what you so ‘desire’.”

his words let everything truly settle now. you never escaped. you just switched paths.

it almost could make you laugh, until it did. you looked crazy and stupid but you were laughing, hysterically almost. wincing at your lip throbbing, heaving out as your head pounds from the movement. you stare into the mans eyes dazed. he stares back at you in discomfort but looks away.

thomas got his own kid into this shit. he better have this all figured out. dizzy from the amount of hits to the head you’ve taken. you look back over and see the man on your right snatching out two pills. eyes widening slightly as you try to move back.

“what is that? wh-wha-no!” the men hold you down, your kicks and hits defenseless. the pills shoved in your mouth. water forced down your throat whilst your nose was plugged, left you choking on the water. forcing you to swallow.

yet they continue it for a few seconds longer, leaving you to start choking horribly. knowing it was swallowed, you were let go finally. shaking and drenched in water, you wildly swing your fist forward.

pure rage in hitting the man on the right. your leg kicks the other guy, before you hit the priest once. a strong hit leaves you slumped, mind swirling until you were no longer able to stay awake.

a strong jerk makes your eyes flicker open. charles was crying softly, making you ignore your own pain. sitting up you look at the man holding him. out of it but desperate you plea.

“give him to me. please, i-i was a mother, i know how to make him stop.” you lie out of instinct but the man seems irritated and hands charles over with ease. ignoring their looks as we come to a stop.

pressing a soft kiss to his head, you hold him soft rocking him softly. your watch the men get out of the vehicle, it was dark out now and your head hurt so bad.

keeping it together for the sake of charles, you try to stay focused. the priest man comes back and you clutch charles more tightly, charles surprisingly soothes down within your hold.

“come on, lets go.” knowing what happen last time, you slowly move out the car, careful with charles the cold wind hits your skin for your only in a nightgown and light sweater. which was blood stained.

the darkness led you to follow him, but soon a room with light appears. you sat down as instructed, feeling the light make your head hurt worse. you notice the two other guys didn’t follow through and he was now alone.

trying not to move, you let charles sit beside you. oddly enough he gave charles something to eat while you stay silent. he looks up at you with a smile.

“the deal is all taken care of, you will be taken care of soon.”

this sick bastard. he gets up suddenly looking back at me, “stay here.” the tone was threatening and you nod softly. scared of what might happen, you sit quietly listening in hard.

moments pass before you heard the words uttered, “please don’t shoot.” you fly up, feeling dizzy from the quickness, glancing back seeing if charles will be okay.

moving forward grasping the wall beside you, as the spots slowly fade from your vision. following the way he took trying to listen in on where the sounds were coming from.

moving quicker at the noise of grunting and painful sounds, ignoring your own pain. you round the corner, taking in the sight of the priest guy fighting a younger guy.

in the oddest moment you notice a hat, the familiar hat. the cap thomas had, a similar one on the ground. “you know who your fucking messing with?”

he throws the guy against a bench, swinging on him. both hands wrap around his throat in such a swift motion. the look on his face reminded you of what yours probably looked like. without thinking you grab a nearby book.

“i’ll take the fuckin’ life from ya’.” you throw the book, it missing your goal hitting him in the back. “leave him the hell alone!” rushing forward, as he turns around one arm coming out. his elbow hits you harshly making you fly back.

hitting the side of a bench, your ribs aching out from the movement. not even knowing what you hit, you stay on the floor. tears leave your eyes unwillingly from the pain.

flying back the back of your head slams into a bench, rolling over sideways. in a slump, you barely were able to make out what was in front of you. all the damage to your head, you knew in nursing this was severe.

“both of ya’ gypsie bastards” without a second thought, the man slices the priest eye. him stumbling back in pain, as the younger man kept coming and coming at him.

“melanie?” you call out as you swore you heard her voice. snapping out of it at the slam open of doors.

two men emerge from a door, too much in pain to handle that situation. trying to push up, hearing the sound of charles cries. “charles.” you gasp out, completely remembering the boy.

managing to get up shakily, moving forward only to stop momentarily. taking in the sight of the bloody mess of the once alive priest. the image locks you in, before you turn back. your were weak and slow but you reach charles.

collapsing beside him leaning back against a near wall. ignoring everything in the world, for it was too much to bare. how odd you found yourself near something of pure innocence; after the chaos you just endured.

charles babbles as you softly sob, “oh charles.”

“it’s alright.” the mans voice spoke, stopping you momentarily. you went silent uncertain exactly anymore of anything. despite everything though you speak up.

“thank ya’.” your tone hush as if you weren’t bold to speak loud. the man sighs out and you wince.

“but ya’ gotta get th-thomas.” the words slip out weakly, eyes flutter as they gaze upon the boy. not even noticing he came around the corner. blood soaked and shaken up, trying desperate to stay focused.

“i’m michael, i’m tommy’s cousin.”

so simple, which was all that was needed. “y/n solomons.” he helps you up, you lean against the wall as he scoops charles up. “hold onto my arm, there is a car outside.”

managing to get inside, but once settled your body slumps. you try to stay up, but the tiredness takes over.

still out not noticing you arriving at the shop, or that michael already took charles inside to the rest of his family. he notified them of you. ada and polly knew for they were the ones who helped you get your clothing.

thomas spoke of you to arthur once.

michael ends up carrying your lifeless looking form inside. polly rushing out orders, ada making a place for you to lay. you were set down and polly pushes your hair out of the way examining you, but when she touches you.

her heart sank. for no reason apparent it just did.

“someone call thomas.” and the cheerful glee of happiness of charles was apparent but the dark silent loom of your appearance was one of unease.

“mum, sh-she helped save him.” he confessed out to polly, who let out a sigh. “well call the damn doctor as well, for christ sakes.”

your eyes flutter open slowly, “charles?”

polly grasp your hand, “he’s safe dear, your both safe now.”

“n-no my head. i can’t my head.” you groan in agony, and your heart aches. “thomas?”

the room went silent. “tho-thomas?” polly speaks up, “he’s on the way.” yet after those words your eyes roll back. “the doctors on the way!” ada calls out and polly sighs in worry for the girl.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby fic #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fandom

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mike----wazowski · 3 months

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i completely forgot i had something for sunday six last week lmao but i'll just post it today @four-white-trees @overdevelopedglasses @skysquid22 @passthroughtime @woundedheartwithin i've also seen @jichanxo being tagged in others so i thought i might add- hope that's ok!! 🫡🫡

this has been sitting in my drafts for ages and is a really old snippet. rikiya content was the first writing i did for yakuza 😔✊️

***

"Riona, what are you doing out here? I asked you to get me your dirty laundry."

Kiryu's scolding seemed to go over Riona's head. She had her hands on her hips, and was striking a pose. "I'm practising my runway walk, Uncle Kaz. I'll need it for when I'm a supermodel!"

Kiryu sighed. "A supermodel."

"Yeah!"

"I thought you wanted to be a fashion designer?"

"Changed my mind!"

"Right. Well, maybe practice being a supermodel after you've given me your laundry," Kiryu said, with as much patience as a father-of-nine could muster. "You won't get on the runway with dirty clothes, will you?"

"What's this about bein' a supermodel?" A bright voice rang out. Haruka beamed as Rikiya approached the gates of Morning Glory, Mikio in tow. The moment they heard him (Rikiya could be heard from Downtown Ryukyu), the other kids emerged from the house, and Taichi came running to wrestle him, as was his signature greeting.

"Riona's practising her walk for the runway," Haruka chirped, as Rikiya was almost knocked off his feet. "She wants to be a catwalk model one day."

"Ohh, right, of course- Riona's our little fashionista!" Trying (and failing) to fend Taichi off, Rikiya called, "Let's see that walk, then, Riona!"

"Okay!"

Kiryu cleared his throat as Riona readied herself. "What about your laundry?"

Riona paid him no heed, starting up her attempt at a runway walk. She looked rather like a wobbly duckling taking its first steps, but Rikiya and Mikio cheered with the enthusiasm of a stadium crowd.

"Wow! You're gonna be at all the big shows!" Mikio said, and Rikiya yelped in agreement, unable to say more with Taichi trying to drag him down.

"Thanks! I keep asking Uncle Kaz to get me a pair of heels so I can practice properly, but he always says no," Riona said.

"Aniki- just doesn't- understand the lifestyle," Rikiya wheezed. Fortunately for him, Taichi had now switched targets to Mikio. "He's an unfashionable old man, y'know?"

"She's too young to wear heels," Kiryu intoned. "Plus, you're pretty far from the supermodel lifestyle yourself, Rikiya."

"Whaaa-" Rikiya let out a theatrical gasp, wheeling around to face Haruka. "Haruka-chan, did ya hear what he just said?"

"I did," Haruka giggled.

"Am I wrong?" Kiryu asked, voice dust-dry. "Anyway, we've had our fun- laundry now, Riona, and if you two are here you can help me with the-"

"Nope, nope, nope. I ain't lettin' this stand!" Rikiya interrupted, pushing his chest out. "I'm gonna show you how I strut my stuff, Aniki!"

"... what."

"I'm gonna do a runway walk that makes you go gaga!"

Taichi finally let up on his assault, dropping off of Mikio's back. "Isn't that for girls, Uncle Rikiya?"

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing!" Ayako scolded him.

"Both girls and guys both do modelling," Mikio told him. "I dunno if Rikiya fits the part, though. You gotta be good looking to be a model."

"Hey, go to hell!" Rikiya protested. "I'll show ya both what I can do!"

Though Kiryu looked like he wanted to protest, the prospect of seeing Rikiya make a fool of himself was enticing. And now Rikiya had his audience, he probably would go ignored anyway.

"Gotta have a good starting point..." Rikiya jogged over to the gates of Morning Glory. "You watch this!"

"Oh, I'm watching," Kiryu sighed.

Rikiya took long, flying strides, head angled so he was gazing dramatically into the distance. He wiggled his hips in a way that shouldn't have been anatomically possible. The kids shrieked with laughter, and Kiryu shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm gonna show you my passion... I'm gonna show you my fire..." He seemed to be going above and beyond a regular catwalk, adding off-key singing to the mix.

"Are you a model or an idol?" Kiryu asked.

"Both, aniki! I'm a triple threat! Singin', dancin', and killin' with good looks!" He turned to the kids. "Wanna join in?"

Izumi and Riona jumped at the chance, running to join him on his little stage. It took a moment of bravery, but Mitsuo followed. Never one to be upstaged, Taichi jumped in next, and soon all of them but Haruka were following Rikiya's makeshift choreography.

"I guess I'm never getting that laundry," Kiryu sighed, but he was smiling so openly Haruka couldn't take him seriously. "Not feeling like a supermodel, Haruka? Or dancer- whatever he thinks he's doing."

"Come on, Haruka-chan! Gotta show your oji-san what's what!" Rikiya called. "I'll have your heart inside of my hand-"

"'Cause I am the queen, oh queen of the passion!" Haruka jumped in, and Kiryu let out a genuine laugh, loud and strong.

It was just like Rikiya to turn a quiet night into one where everyone danced.

So of all the things wrong with his body- the bullet wounds, the blood, the empty eyes- the stillness was the worst part.

#sunday six #my writing #...sorry about that ending #rikiya shimabukuro #kiryu kazuma

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creme-delacreme · 2 years

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LMAO got it! It’s not even that much of a fic, maybe more like a blurb but I was thinking about shout-out and thought of Jack on stage at a festival or something and then forgetting a lyric (never seen that happen to him but ik it happens to a lot of artists obvs) but basically reader has been in the audience singing all the songs and he looks at her to remember the lyric he forgot and then is like that could have been bad if you weren’t there lol - 💀

Almost Gotcha

As the beat to Once May Comes starts playing, Jack continues to bounce to the beat and watch his girlfriend in the front row do the same. She agreed to travel with him over the summer. And he was more than grateful for her.

“You could put a milly on us, you could put a milly on us..” Jack raps. He breezes through the next lines but his brain starts to get foggy since he doesn’t perform this song as much. Looking over at his girlfriend, he watches her. A mega watt smile on her face as she jumps up and down to the beat of his song. “If you wondering what may come from it. Once May comes then we graduate for the summer.” He remembers. That could’ve been bad. He thought as he began to close out his act.

He rushes backstage, wanting nothing more than to relax and lay with you. “Baby!” You shout, rushing backstage as well. “Oh. Hi mama.” He chuckles as your bodies collide. “You looked good up there my love.” You smile. Jack closes the distance between the two of you. “Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers, pressing your foreheads together. You nod, laughing softly at both of your heads moving.

“I haven’t performed that one ina minute. I didn’t know if the next time was always gonna be the right one. And then I almost forgot towards the end.” He confessed. You fake gasp. “No way? That’s like your easiest song.” You tease. “Girl quit playing with me and accept my thank you.” Jack smacks his teeth.

“You never said the words so there’s nothing to accept Jackman.” You playfully roll your eyes. “Thank you for helping me with the lyrics or whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “Mm you’re welcome I guess.” You respond followed by a kiss.

Note: this is a old ass draft from like the summer😭 just finished it to have something to post tryna clear out my drafts tbh

Tags: @lcandothisallday @onmykneesforrafe @harlowcomehome @thinkingaboutjharlow @harlowsbby @jacksmoviestar @yonduismarrypoppins @tynesharandolph8633-blog @stefansalvatoresgf @moody4world @babyharleezy @curlyhairclub @inluvwithladybug @blackenedsunflowers

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts

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redlinereblogs · 5 months

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so ashley (@towez) and i were talking and i wrote this sappy/angsty 1988 chat fit thingy and she encouraged me to share it.

Me: Yesterday I had the poopiest day at work so I was listening to a lot of evermore and I got champagne problems and tis the damn season back to back (so obvi I listened to those two on repeat for an hour). Anyways. I kept thinking of a 1988 version and I can’t believe I forgot to tell you about it bc of the snow!!!

Ashley: TELL ME EVERYTHING! WAIT do these versions end happy??????? Those are two sad songs Jules

Me: Of course it’s happy. We just have to get there Ashley. No worries. It’s always happy. They have to be happy. It’s the law.

Okay. So. Both Jonny and Pat attended SSM. They were on the same line and didn’t room together in the dorms but were road roomies. And they hated each other but then didn’t!!! And fell in luv!! 🥰

So they are in LOVE!! And no one knows because they are male hockey players who want to make the show and they can't be gay. So it is a SECRET!! And they kiss and hold hands and it’s all so sappy you want to die bc it makes your teeth hurt but also you can’t possibly stop eating it bc it’s too good.

So. They are together. And it’s everything. And they plan to ask for a room together next year (bc they are..like...sophomores let’s say). And it’s all sappy and adorable and I love it.

And then Pat turns 16 and Tiki and the family visit and see a game.

So Pat basically pretends Jonny doesn’t exist. And Jonny’s crushed and Pat doesn’t really know what Jon expected because “it’s my family Jonny. It’s just…it just is what it is.”

And Jon didn’t expect them to make out in front of Pat’s parents or something but “you just acted like I was a teammate. You didn’t even treat me like a friend, Pat!” And he didn’t. When Jonny’s family visited, he made it at least clear that Pat was one of his best friends on the team. Pat didn’t even make it seem like Jon was…well…anyone.

And Pat doesn’t know what to do but he’s got to go have lunch with his dad. And at lunch Tiki explains that he’s arranged some tryouts for Pat. For the junior leagues. The Q and stuff. And Pat’s all “But Dad. We agreed. I’d stay here till, you know, the draft. Play with the team and finish school and stuff.”

And Tiki just brushes off Pat’s objections. He’s old enough for the age limit now. He can do school remote and play some real games. Get his name out there more. He’s not like the others. He’s too small. Too weak. He’s got to make sure the scouts know he can play. Know he can make the difference on these teams if he wants to make it.

Pat sits at the dinner just gutted. “Can I finish out the school year at least?” He might not get to live with Jonny next year but they can at least have the rest of this school year. That's....it's something at least. Tiki shakes his head. “The tryouts are in January. We’ve talked to the school. You’ll be done by winter break.” And. Well. That’s it then.

And Pat doesn’t even know what to say. He finished the sandwich and his dad dropped him back at his dorm and that’s it then.

He goes to Jonny’s dorm because he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. And TJ answers the door and is super “He doesn’t want to talk to you. Go away.” And Pat begs and refuses to move and nearly starts to cry before Jonny tells TJ to back off and let him in. And TJ glares daggers at him but grabs some shit and leaves to give them privacy.

And Jonny’s all silent. And Pat doesn’t know where to start. And then Jonny’s just like “well…” and Pat’s crying and it’s all coming out and he doesn’t know what to do and they have to break up and he doesn’t want to break up. He never wanted to and it’s just awful

And it’s all sad and angsty and terrible. And they say they’re gonna try to go long distance but it doesn’t work at all. Pat’s parents pay his cell bill and he gets a call from his mother asking why he’s got so many long distance charges. and so they try to email and message but it doesn’t work

And then they just stop talking one day. Pat sends an email that isn’t answered. One of Jonny’s messages is left unread. It just stops.

And THEN!! (angst incoming)

Jonny gets hit. It’s one of his last games at SSM. He’s already committed to UND and is projected to go high in the draft. It’s all right there, ready for him and then. It isn’t.

The doctors (thankfully) don’t think he’ll have lasting damage from the concussion but they recommend he doesn’t play anymore. Jonny can’t look anyone in the face. His mother is a wreck. His father’s worse.

All he sees is pity and he hates it.

He doesn’t go to UND. He watches TJ get drafted and goes up to his room and cries. He turns music on and presses his face into his pillow so no one will hear. He has three emails and a dozen messages from Pat, who hasn’t talked to him in years. He deletes everything and blocks Pat.

He heals and moves back home. And figures out a way to have a life without hockey in it.

He and Pat don’t talk.

Until one day, Jon’s got the radio on as he drives into work and there’s a sports segment. That’s how he hears how Pat’s been injured. He’s a big enough star now that it’s news even up in Jets territory that the Hawks star winger is gonna be out for the rest of the season.

Jon winces when they talk about the hit. And then he turns off the truck and heads inside to open up the rec center.

As he pulls in his driveway at night, he pauses. There’s someone on his front porch…

He turns the key and opens the door to see what the fuck is going on. He stops at the bottom step.

“Thought you busted your knee cap.”

“Hello to you too, Jonny.”

And then Pat’s suddenly back in Jonny’s life. And yeah. He’s injured. And can’t really walk well. And the flight up here didn’t do him any favors. And he just keeps taking nonsense about flights and Ubers and lost-and-then-found luggage and Jonny eventually breaks in with, “What the fuck are you doing here, Pat?”

And Pat doesn’t really know how to answer that because the question he’s really been asking himself for nearly a decade now is “What the hell am I doing so far away from Jon?” Every time they played Winnipeg he told himself he’d reach out. And he never did.

He even broke down once and got TJ’s number so he could ask him how Jonny was. TJ told him to fuck off and then blocked him.

So Pat doesn’t really answer. And says he’s gonna go.

And Jonny (being Jonny) says he doesn’t have to leave now. It’s late. You can stay here.

And Pat does.

And Jonny feeds him. And eventually. They talk. And they joke. And laugh.

And Pat ends up staying through the weekend.

And then it’s a week.

And then, one night, he doesn’t go into the guest room. He shyly slips under the covers of Jon’s bed. Jonny watches him do it and doesn’t say a word. Pat leans over him a bit. “Is this alright?” He whispers. Jonny nods and puts a hand on his cheek, pulling Pat down for a kiss that’s sweet and soft. And then the opposite of that.

And then they’re just together again. In this small, sacred little bubble.

Jon tells himself it’s temporary. It’s just until the Hawks medical team green lights Pat’s surgery. It’s not real. It’s fake. It’s all fake.

But then Pat calls him “Babe” and Jonny doesn’t want it to be fake anymore.

He wants it to be their life.

He works at the rec center. Pat can teach math at the high school.

They spend summers at Jon’s small cabin and in winter Pat coaches one of the local peewee teams.

They fuck and fight and live.

They save up to go on a cruise with Jon’s family. And spend American Thanksgiving with the Kanes in Buffalo.

And then Jonny overhears one of Pat’s phone calls bc he gets home early. Pats arguing with someone. He’s saying that ‘No. It needs to be delayed again. No. No. That’s not going to work—Well I don’t care if I’m violating my contract. They can just sue me then!’

And Jonny knows it’s over again.

He’s lived this nightmare before.

Pat’s life is bigger than this. Pat’s life doesn’t have room for him.

AND THEN!!!

Jonny tries to break up with Pat and Pats like “no!” And Jonny’s like “yes!”

And then they fight and Pat finally breaks down.

"I’m not losing you again Jonny. I’m just—I’m not. It almost killed me the first time and I just…I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’s always been you. I…I love you so much."

And Jonny is just gutted and “I…I love you too…”

And then they kiss and hug and figure out how they’re gonna make it work.

And then they do!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Ashley: YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS, that was wonderful. I love a good angsty fic with a happy endingggggggg

Me: It’s even angstier in my head. There was so much DRAMA and I LOVE IT

Ashley: what are some more angstier bits????

Like Pat going on dates with women bc he’s supposed to and hating it. And then going home to google Jonny instead. He finds an account he’s pretty sure is Jonny’s insta but it’s locked so he doesn’t send a request in.

And Jonny watching the Hawks win the cup in ‘10 and seeing the joy on Pat’s face. They talked about winning the cup together. He’d known it was a stupid dream. They probably wouldn’t be drafted together. But it still burns. That maybe, in another life it could have been them.

Pat’s sister gently trying to tell him that they like his girlfriend well enough but also ..it’s…you know…okay if you don’t like her that much….

Jonny putting on skates again for the first time since the hit. He got a job at the rec center part time to rent out skates and run the Zamboni over the ice every so often.

The ice is empty for his first pass and he spots at center ice to cry when it all gets to be too much.

Pat trying to convince Jonny to move to Chicago with him. Jon knowing he can’t. Not because he doesn’t love Pat. But because being that close to Pat playing while he’s not would break him. He thought he processed not playing. He hasn’t.

Ashley: All of this makes me feel things and I love ittttttt Me: I KNOW!!! It’s just. 🥰🥰🥰

#1988 fic #i did it! i actually posted it. it's only two days late lol

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