#I love writing confident readers because I'm not terribly confident

[ozzgin]

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 

[iiotic]

Uuu~ saw ur request open, Here a crack request if you want to write,(Wriothesley,Cyno,Childe and maybe Xiao?) S/o confidently said they "could take them in a fight" yes, saying that even after knowing how strong they are, wonder how they would react, would they play along let s/o beat them or just prove s/o's statement wrong lol

"I COULD TAKE YOU IN A FIGHT!"

summary: how'd wriothesley, cyno, childe and xiao react to their s/o saying that they could take them in a fight?

tw: slightly angst on xiaos part, slightly suggestive on wriothesleys part? ? lowercase intended, gn reader. | wc: 0.5k

thank you sm for your request anon!! I actually rlly enjoyed writing this!! also I wrote this late at night so not proff read and might not make sense. its also the first time I write for wriothesley and childe and I hope they're not too out of character <//3

── ꒰wriothesley. ｡˚ ꒱

"sure you could babe" he'd say smoothly, looking at you from his papers. he smirked seeing you momentally caught off guard, then quickly regaining your composure.

"do you think i'm joking? im 100% serious." you huffed, seeing his expression. "we can fight right here, right now and I'd win!" you said a bit louder than expected, confidence radiating out of you.

he chuckled slightly as he saw you walking towards him. "oh no i totally believe you, but i must admit i didn't know what kind of fight you meant at first." he pulled you on his lap when you were close enough.

wait.. what did he mean by- oh..

── ꒰cyno. ｡˚ ꒱

"no you couldn't." he'd say without thinking, not understating what you mean by that. were you being serious? were you joking? because this is not something to joke about.

after you said that you're completely serious, he looked like you just burnt all of his tcg cards. did you offend him? did you make him mad, sad? you didn't know. just as you were about to apologize he cut you off.

"you know this reminds me of one of my jokes" he clears his throat "why should you never fight a dinosaur? because you'll get jurasskicked!!"

terrible, absolutely terrible. you'd think that it's one of his worst jokes he made.

── ꒰childe. ｡˚ ꒱

did he hear you correctly? you saying that you can take him in a fight? the eleventh fatui harbinger? oh bring it on.. don't take him wrong, he'd never actually hurt you! however when you look at him from above with that confidence in your eyes, and with that sweet little grin trying so hard not to burst out laughting. might as well test you right?

"c'mon then, i promise i'll be gentle." he said sitting up from his previous position on the bed. he chuckled slightly as you launched at him, practically making him lay down. you sitting on top of him while he pretends to fight back.

everything ended up with you and him playfighting, him obviously losing to you. definitely a core memory.

── ꒰xiao. ｡˚ ꒱

the room was silent after you said that sentence, it wasn't one of those comfortable silence moments but not one of those awkward ones either. were you joking? he'd think. was it one of your pranks again?

"You clearly have no respect for the adepti." he'd say unintentionally harshly.

he was surprised when you wanted to prove him that you're stronger then him, he'd refuse. he'd never fight you, he would never raise his hand at you. you were his everything, his significant other, his soulmate and even if you'd leave him, betray him demanding to fight, he'd refuse once again. why? because he loves you.

© 2024 iiotic. — do not steal, translate or repost any of my content onto any other platform

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 

 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 

[sunderwight]

Much as I love the idea of PIDW being rife with terrible porn tropes and interesting (if contrived) erotic writing conventions, all actual evidence in canon would seem to indicate that apart from some sex pollen and "uh oh, the protagonist has gone into a fugue state, whatever shall calm him down?" type stuff, it was fairly vanilla.

Like, that's part of both Shen Yuan and Airplane's frustration with it, I think. It's full of sex and it's not even sex either of them enjoy the concept of. Airplane was fully just trying to pander to an audience he felt he knew and could manipulate, but not one either he nor his ultra mega hate reader were actually part of.

Not that they understood that themselves at the time.

I mean I know fandom likes to make Airplane less closeted than Shen Yuan (for a lot of reasons), which I support, but I feel like in canon at least... he didn't cotton on to Luo Binghe's change in interests at first either. It wasn't until he was watching his protagonist obsess over resurrecting Shen Qingqiu at any cost that the light started to dawn. For Shang Qinghua, also, many more years have passed since he was back in their original world. He's had more time to reconcile himself to certain ideas.

What glimpses we get of the person he was before he died, was reborn, and lived a whole other life well into adulthood, would seem to indicate that he probably wasn't much better than Shen Yuan back when he was writing.

I mean he probably was still BETTER (the bar is on the floor), like I bet he could have a fantasy featuring Mobei Jun without having an existential crisis or pretending it didn't happen, but he would have probably been like "wow I guess I've been writing so much m/f porn that I can't even enjoy it anymore and my brain had to come up with something else, anyway Mobei would make a hot chick tho, I'm gonna write one of his cousins as Binghe's next wife" and gotten on with things.

Basically I guess what I'm driving at is that it would be funny if SQQ and SQH figured they had a solid handle on the kinds of sex pollen-y porn tropes to expect from the world (mostly just the occasional fuck-or-die that missionary can cure), only for the rug to get ripped out from under them because the system incorporated a bunch of stuff from Airplane's subconscious to fill out the gaps. Not even his notes. His daydreams and fantasies.

SQQ: what the hell?! PIDW didn't even have werewolves or tentacle porn monsters!

SQH, suddenly reminded of some very specific fap sessions: right?! this is definitely weird and in no way my fault! it must be because of the genre switch!

SQQ: *suspicious*

SQH: which is your fault! you made the protagonist gay! in fact it's probably your fault that I'm gay too now!

SQQ: bullshit. what did you do. was this in a draft?!

SQH: *sweating* I can say with absolute confidence that it was not! I never wrote anything like this!

SQQ: *having a crisis now because maybe he DID accidentally cause the monsterfucker stuff and he desperately doesn't want anyone to realize that he's actually into it*

SQH: *continuing to sweat because the world is consistently manifesting content from his personal spank bank and if cucumber ever figures that out he's a dead man*

[isalisewrites]

A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part One

Welcome to my new series, where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say 'poor writer,' I'm talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the plots of the books.

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Disclaimer for all readers: I'm going to sound very confident in my posts. I'm going to be working under the assumption that I'm a better writer than JKR. Because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You're just witnessing two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn't just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

After years of being beaten down by others, I will no longer tolerate that.

I will be using my writing to compare with hers to make some of my points. Some of what I say in these posts could be considered stylistic choices. However, in my humble opinion, most of this is a difference of skill, which can be learned. Yes, everything I'm going to teach and cover in this series can be learned. There's no 'talent' here. You can learn how to become a better writer right here and now. You only have to understand the craft of writing and sentence structure to better improve your prose and scenes.

I don't have fame and money.

I don't need them to teach you how to write better than JKR.

You're free to disagree with my stances about this and about everything I cover, of course. But if you're a writer, you might gain some insight from this post and I sincerely hope you are enriched by my efforts in this. I spent quite a few hours on this post. Helping others become a better writer than JKR is one of the greatest contributions I can give to society.

Thus, take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

I have stated before: JKR's writing is bloated in the wrong places, underwritten in others, and the prose is poor. These problems show up in all of her HP books.

Buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Let's begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we're going to dissect a page from HP4.

There's so much wrong with this page and the three pages of this scene overall. So much to go over. Bullet points I'll cover from this page:

Disconnected Dialogue Lines

The Great Sin of Adverbs

Too much fucking dialogue!

Wrong focus altogether in this scene

Out of POV writing

First point. This is a huge ongoing issue I see in all of the HP books. There are a lot of disconnected dialogue lines, which become confusing over time. This could be an issue of the publisher, but it's still a problem. In the middle of this page, we have:

Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.

Wait, wait, wait. Who said this? Listen, I know. I know it's Sirius. However, this is an improper placement on the page and can become confusing because Harry also goes by he/him pronouns and he's also in this scene. While the dialogue here suggests Sirius is talking, it could easily be misinterpreted if there were other characters or if he said something that Harry could've just as easily said.

To make this dialogue more clear for the reader, it should go as follows:

Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.

Second point. JKR is an adverb sinner, a criminal. Jail. "Do not pass go; do not collect $200." Arrest her for these blatant crimes, please, for the love of god.

Look, I love adverbs. They're great. Don't fucking listen to anyone who outright demonizes them (including your huffy, uppity literature professors). Adverbs are the seasonings of writing. You season your food; you also need to season your writing when the case asks for it.

However...

Adverbs should always be used sparingly when connected to dialogue tags. The setting in this scene is: Harry is in the Gryffindor Common Room at night crouched in front of the fireplace where Sirius is in the fire in a floo call. I read through the whole scene, though I've only shown one page here.

Harry says a line of dialogue 'slowly' three times and Sirius says a line of dialogue 'slowly' two times.

The same adverb 'slowly' is used FIVE FUCKING TIMES IN THREE PAGES.

I want to scream, not gonna lie here. Set this adverb on fire!

What does this adverb do for us in this conversation? What is so important that we have to be told that five lines of dialogue were said slowly? What do they contribute? Spoiler alert: nothing. What are their facial expressions? Harry is 14. He's exhausted since it's well after 1am or so and he's burdened with the new knowledge of dragons for the first task. He's kneeling in front of a very hot fireplace. There's fire fumes and smoke, potentially. Is he fidgeting? Is he yawning? Rubbing his eyes? Bouncing a leg? Is he picking at the carpet or rug?

Harry is a tired, burdened child.

Show me this!

Now I'm not saying that you can't use adverbs in your dialogue tags. There's a huge difference between "he said softly" and "he whispered." It's about balancing the moment when an adverb says just enough versus an adverb replacing well needed scene enrichment. Let's compare this with a section from my HP time travel fanfiction, Terrible, But Great, Chapter Thirty.

Dumbledore nodded at Monty, pocketing his wand. “Mr. Potter.” “Lo, Professor,” said Monty, pout gone, but still a watchful light in his gaze. “Is there a problem?” asked Dumbledore in a mild tone. Ice slipped in between Tom’s ribs, piercing his flesh. Monty tilted his head. “No, sir.” Oh, but Tom knew better. He could see through that innocent facade. The man could’ve been a Slytherin for how much he was cataloguing every little detail, from Tom’s appearance, to the content of the selected books, and to the supplies of ink, quill, and parchment scattered on the surface of the table. Tom masked the raw, whirling feelings in his chest with a well practiced blank, emotionless expression. He willed himself to hide.  “Nothing at all, sir,” said Tom lightly. “Young Mr. Potter was regaling me about his friendship with Miss Malfoy.” Monty glanced at Tom, brows furrowing. Those blue eyes were piercing, filled with suspicion. “Was he now?” Dumbledore said; though his tone was still without direct accusation, Tom could hear the hint of it. “Then, may I ask, why a silencing charm was necessary for such a benign conversation?” Tom wet his lips. His throat was dry. “I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library.” “I am awfully loud,” said Monty with a sage nod. “Ah. A noble intent. However, it is not an appropriate use of magic in the library,” said Dumbledore, his gaze firm as it bore down on Tom. “Ten points from Slytherin. I think it’d be wise to take your studies to your common room, Mr. Riddle.” “Yes, sir,” whispered Tom.

I only used "said Tom lightly" once in this section to show Tom attempting to be unaffected by Dumbledore's interference. I did not dialogue dump information in giant chunks. I did utilized actions tags versus adverbs, like Monty tilting his head or Tom licking his lips. I suspect that if JKR had written this scene, she'd have used lines like:

"No, sir," said Monty curiously.

or

"I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library," said Tom nervously.

The adverbs that JKR's uses add nothing to her scenes. They're just thrown into them without a thought. Did she even reread this scene after she wrote it? I cringe in agony if I use an uncommon word more than three or four times in an entire 4,000 to 7,000 word chapter, let alone the same adverb five times in three pages. Good grief.

There are two other adverbs used in this page, hastily and bitterly. Hastily does nothing for the scene and is connected to another issue, but I'll go over that in the end. However, bitterly is one of the adverbs I'd keep. It gives us a glimpse into Harry's feelings here. We need more of this, but we got nothing.

Thus, the overuse of adverbs in JKR's dialogue detracts and steals so much from the scene.

Third point: there's too much dialogue and no description whatsoever. Again, the adverbs are a pathetic attempt to give us something, but they're thrown in there without a damn forethought. We're missing the crackle of the fire and the smell of it. We're missing Sirius' facial expressions. We're missing Harry moving around on the floor, fidgeting, yawning, rubbing his eyes, feeling the heat of the fire, bouncing his legs, picking at the rug, something, anything, etc.

The dialogue is bloated with a terribly boring conversation. It's just endless dialogue with nothing else. No, it's awful. Welcome to the fourth bullet point. This scene focuses on the entirely wrong point. This scene is 100% a plot device and it's terribly done as well. It's three pages about Karkaroff being a Death Eater--oh no he might be trying to kill you, Harry, aaaaaa--and something about Bertha Jorkins being near Voldemort's last location. Meh. Who cares. Somebody has been trying to kill Harry in every book thus far. This isn't a new development, sweetie.

We been done know this, okay? Come on.

This is a stilted, unnatural conversation between Harry and Sirius. It's not realistic. It's not normal. Telling Harry about the Karkaroff's past is boring and does nothing for him. One line, maybe two, for Sirius to say, "Hey, keep an eye out for Karkaroff. He's an old Death Eater." Done. End of Karkaroff information. And cut Bertha Jorkins out altogether. I'm sorry, but why the hell are we talking about a dead woman to a 14 year old kid whose biggest problem at the moment is dealing with a jealous friend, school ostracization, and a giant fire breathing lizard???

These points are important to the plot, but they're not important to Harry.

The plot isn't important. No, it's not.

Harry is the POV character.

Harry is the single most important aspect in every scene and should be treated as such.

The plot should weave around Harry, slowly revealing itself to both Harry and the reader. Harry should not be the weaver of the plot. He should not be used in plot devices.

Do you know what part of the conversation was summarized in the prose between Harry and Sirius in a single paragraph versus the three pages about Karkaroff?

Harry talking about how no one believes him about not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. About the school hating him. About Ron, about his betrayal and his jealousy. About Rita Skeeter. About seeing the dragons as the first task. These are all important to Harry. These all are causing pain to Harry's heart right now. Somebody give this child a hug, please.

We missed out on exploring Harry's feelings here. The author skips the MOST important part of the conversation, what could've been a deeply emotional, either positive or negative, conversation between Harry and Sirius.

Oh, this scene could've been so good. It could've been amazing. There are so many paths that could've been explored here, too.

We could've had a callous Sirius, who doesn't notice Harry's state of being, and just goes on and on about nothing of importance where Harry clams up. Or we've could've had a comforting Sirius, who attempts to give Harry some actual advice about his friendship with Ron. We could've seen Harry opening up in his body language, connecting with this parental figure in his life. We could've heard a story of Sirius' time as a kid at school with Harry's father and the marauders.

We were robbed of an important moment between Harry and Sirius.

Instead, the author puts the focus on the red herring 'foreshadowing' of Karkaroff. What a waste. She's trying to put suspicion on him, rather than Moody/Barty Crouch Jr., the real Death Eater in disguise. Again, who cares. It's not about them. It's about Harry and how his experiences are affecting him. It's about how he reacts to them.

This scene is a waste of time and paper. It's empty of emotion and movement/flow. It's just there for a set up and it's glaringly obvious during a second read of the book.

When I say, "The writing is bloated and underwritten at the same time." this is what I mean. We're focusing on the wrong things here.

Fifth point. JKR breaks the POV character with the following line:

"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but...

Harry is the POV character. Sirius 'seeing Harry about to speak' should NOT be occurring in the prose whatsoever. To fix this with the bare minimum of effort for this poorly written dialogue line:

"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts--" Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Sirius said hastily, "Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm, but..."

I wouldn't write these lines like this, by the way. I just don't want to rewrite this. It's a poor paragraph overall, but this is an example of returning the POV back to Harry. Sirius isn't 'seeing' anything anymore. Harry is doing an action and Sirius reacts to his action.

Breaking POV is a rule that can be occasionally broken, but should be done so with intent and purpose. I'm pretty confident when I say that JKR probably had no idea that this was a mistake on her part in the prose.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part One in this series. We have dissected a single page and a single scene in JKR's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The page in question is 333 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

More to follow because I have lots of pages to go over. This will definitely be series, ah dear.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

[luveline]

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 

You freeze up. 

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 

“Come have some breakfast.” 

“I'll write her again.” 

“After breakfast.” 

“What if she doesn't come?” 

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 

“What?” Arthur asks. 

“Who?” a younger voice says. 

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 

“Mum,” one whines. 

“Come on now.” 

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says. 

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 

A startle of silverware against china. 

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 

So. It's a relief to be home. 

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 

“I'm fine. I am.” 

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 

“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 

“Not just give up.” 

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 

“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 

“I miss you too,” he says. 

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 

“What?” His eyes are dark. 

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 

“I don't.” 

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 

“You're still beautiful.” 

“Mm. You can't even see me.” 

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 

“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 

“Then we'll do it.” 

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 

“Not like that,” you laugh. 

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 

[oikasugayama]

I love all your posts. In your dazai nsfw head canons, there was the thing with chuuya and I was wondering if you could write a fic on that? It's oki if not!! :)

tag-team

Inspired by letters I and W from my Dazai NSFW alphabet in which Dazai wants to fuck his girlfriend in Chuuya's office, and Chuuya gets to join in.

5.1k, jealous!dazai, afab!reader, cumming inside, cunnilingus, blowjob, fingering, soukoku bickering while fucking, etc. not soukoku but they do sexually interact, etc. not proofread bc i'm tired [click to read on ao3]

You urge Dazai to lock the door behind you, but he chuckles and shakes his head. “No baby,” he mumbles, sliding his hands past your hips and down to grab two handfuls of your ass. “He'll know something's up if the door's locked. If Chuuya catches us, we should be riiiight in the middle of things so he can't stop us.”

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this again?” you ask as he leans forward, chasing your lips even as you lean back and wait for an answer.

“Because fuck Chuuya. If I want to fuck my girl in his office, I will.”

“That's a terrible reason,” you gasp as Dazai slides one hand up your body and into the hair at the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss. His open mouth meets yours, tongues immediately gliding together with the same force as your lips. 

“But we're here, aren't we?” he asks after pulling back just for a second. “And I want you so bad.”

You whimper and let him reel you in once again. Your nerves will get the best of you if you have time to take in your surroundings; as it is your nose can't stop sniffing out the unfamiliar smells of luxuriois leather and some kind of smoke. If Dazai keeps leading you so confidently you'll be able to let go of yourself entirely and go along with this absolute ridiculous plan of his.

He kisses you faster and with more urgency than he does at home, making both of you breathless as you gasp into each other's mouths and lap at each other's tongues. 

His large hands glide over your body, up and down your back, hiking your top up and trying to dip into your pants. You follow his lead, reaching for the buttons on his vest and his shirt. He keeps kissing you through both of you martially undressing, his tops hitting the floor, yours following shortly after.

When he gets your bra off he makes you sit on Chuuya’s desk, and he leans down to suck on your tit. You lean back, tossing your hair over your shoulder, closing your eyes so you can focus on the feeling of Dazai's tongue circling your nipple as it perks and hardens at his touch. You make small noises, still shy in an unfamiliar place, but Dazai keeps working over you, suckling, kneading, teasing his teeth over your skin, until you're softly moaning his name and laying back, making him bend at the waist and lean forward to follow you down onto Chuuya's desk, ignoring whatever papers you land on. 

Dazai kisses lower eventually, and his deft fingers unbutton your jeans and start sneaking under the fabric.

“You're so pretty spread out for me on stupid Chuuya’s desk,” he says cupping your dampening panties in his palm. “I'm gonna make you feel so good the whole Mafia hears you screaming.”

Your eyes widen in panic briefly and you stutter out a no, but Dazai laughs softly and kisses right above where your panties cover.

“You're safe, baby, I promise. Not a single person here would be stupid enough to hurt a hair on your head.” He drags your jeans down your legs finally, and you kick a little as he pulls them over your feet. He grabs one ankle, kisses the inside of it, then holds your leg up and kisses slowly down, closer and closer to your crotch.

“These walls are soundproof anyways,” he says once he's near your inner thigh. “No one will hear you scream.”

You giggle softly and push his forehead away from you.

“Don't be creepy, weirdo.”

He smiles and lays his cheek against your thigh, his face so close to your clothed cunt. You watch him, desperate for his next move.

“There's my sweet girl. You really don't need to be worried, I promise.” You jump slightly when his finger presses just above your clit and pushes in as he drags it down, making your panties slightly stick between your folds. “I'd never put you in danger.” His voice lowers as his finger goes up again, still pushing in, now really emphasizing your cleavage. “You know that, right?”

You nod, giving a quiet “mhm.”

“Speak up,” he says, now tracing his fingers around the outside of your panties.

“I know,” you say, still keeping your eyes locked on his. “You'd never put me in danger.”

“Good. And do you know why?” His finger slips under by just a single knuckle, and he lifts your panties high, making the crotch pull taut and squish between your labia. You whine and try to push down to get some friction on your clit but it's barely there, he's holding your panties at just the wrong angle.

“Tell me.”

“Because you love me?” You guess, and he smiles widely.

“Exactly!” he says in his playful, excited voice. Then he rolls his head toward your crotch and licks a fat, wet stripe up one half of your exposed cunt. You make a startled little moan and he chuckles before licking the other side too.

“Now, do you want my tongue or my fingers?” he asks so close that you can feel his breath tickling your wet skin.

“Both,” you answer immediately.

“Both?” He sits up and tsks, slowly shaking his head. He stands upright and you whine, reaching for him, saying soft no’s.

“Greedy girl.” He looks down and spreads your pussy with his fingers, then readjusts your panties so they're right against your clit. “You must be so horny you could die. Being so greedy like that… Why don't you get yourself off then, baby? Show me how you play with yourself with no hands.”

He tugs your panties up slightly a couple of times, giving little pricks of pleasure to your clit. You get the hint and move your hips up slowly, getting another prick of sensation. You readjust, getting one foot up on the desk beside you so you have leverage to move. Then you start a slow rhythm, bucking upward against your panties so they grind on your clit and work you up. 

“That's it, baby,” Dazai coos lowly, petting your thigh with his free hand. After a while when your speed increases and you start whining his name, he unbuckles his belt, works open his button and fly, and pulls his dick out, giving it strokes that match the time of your grinding.

“Fuck, this is hot,” he sighs. “I could watch you get yourself off all day.”

“But I want you,” you whine. You start kneading and pawing at your boobs as well, staring right up at Dazai. “Fuck me,” you beg softly.

Dazai bites his lip but says nothing, watching you with his greedy, hungry eyes.

“Please,” you breathily beg, searching for more pressure that just doesn’t exist in your current predicament. “Please, Dazai, please. Please.”

“God, it’s so hot when you beg,” he finally says, letting go of his dick. He grabs your panties with both hands and pulls them down your legs before haphazardly throwing them over his shoulder to land somewhere else.

“I want you so bad, Dazai. Please. Please.”

“Shhh,” he coos softly, leaning down over you. His lips brush yours and he intersperses tiny kisses with tiny shushes as his fingers collect your wetness. You desperately chase his lips, but he keeps pulling away. He even has the audacity to chuckle in your face.

“Don’t worry, needy girl.” He hisses softly, and you vaguely get the impression that his arm is moving-- he must be stroking himself with your wetness. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You nod frantically, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He asks if you’re ready, and you keep nodding and nodding and finally he slips the tip inside and you moan into his face.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, sinking further and further into you. “Love this pussy. It’s so fucking good to me.”

“I love you,” you whine and he chuckles again as he bottoms out.

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips and kisses you properly, not teasing or withholding anymore.

And that’s when the door opens.

“What the fuck?! Dazai!” Chuuya yells, scrambling for what to say next. Dazai sighs dramatically, letting the noise turn into a groan. He stands up without pulling out of you and turns his upper body toward Chuuya.

“What do you want?” he snaps. “I’m kind of busy here.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” There’s a scuffle and some noise from the hallway, but to your surprise Chuuya calmly calls over his shoulder “Don’t worry about it-- I’ve got it under control,” and then closes and locks the door behind him. He takes his hat off and hangs it on the back of the door then turns back to you two.

“I thought you were fucking joking, you dumbass.”

“I never joke about my lady’s pleasure,” Dazai says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“What is he talking about?” Your whole body is flushed with embarrassment and fear and now confusion. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, afraid of being yelled at or in trouble with the fucking Port Mafia, but Dazai is acting so nonchalant, and all Chuuya does is tsk.

“You didn’t even tell her? How the fuck did you get her here if you didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what? Dazai?”

Dazai groans and turns back fully to you, grinding against you, making you gasp. “I told you that you weren’t in any danger. Chuuya knew we were coming.”

“I didn’t know. You said it like a fucking joke.”

“Dazai, tell me what--”

“I asked Chuuya if he’d let us fuck in his office if he got to join in if he caught us, and he said yes.”

“I thought you were joking!”

“Join in…?”

Dazai’s eyes lock on yours but he doesn’t say anything. Your eyes are softer than he expected and now he’s starting to realize maybe he didn’t make the right call here. Now he’ll actually have to put his money where his mouth is and let his ex-partner fuck his girlfriend.

Dazai easily regains his composure and turns to look at Chuuya again.

“Well?” he asks. “Why are you still standing there? You caught us, so come here.”

Chuuya hesitates.

“She okay with this?” he asks. “Man, I don’t even know her name.”

“That’s because you haven’t introduced yourself yet, slug. Now come here.”

“Don’t boss me around,” he grumbles as he crosses the room. Finally he’s standing over you and his eyes lock purely on yours, not straying in the slightest to any of your exposed skin.

“Sorry we weren’t properly introduced because your boyfriend’s a fucking moron. I’m Nakahara Chuuya. Are you okay with this?”

“Hi, Chuuya,” you say softly. Your face is so warm as you blush; his formality makes the situation really sink in--you’re spread out naked with your boyfriend balls deep, and Chuuya’s hardly acknowledging it. “He is kind of dumb, but I like him anyway--”

“--Heeey--”

“I’m [Y/N], and yeah, you can join us. I mean, really it’s the least we could do…”

A smirk slowly overcomes Chuuya’s face.

“Oh, yeah? Gonna pay me back for the time it’s gonna take to clean my office by letting me use your pretty little body?”

Dazai grinds against you again, and you groan softly, biting your lip.

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding at Chuuya. “We’ll make it worth your time.” You reach out for his hand, and he allows you to take it. You guide it to your tit, and he chuckles.

“Right into it, huh?” he asks, massaging it gently. Dazai finally pulls partially out of you and thrusts back in, making you gasp again. Chuuya glances down at where your cunt sucks your boyfriend’s cock in, and he clicks his tongue.

“Damn, that’s kinda hot.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it and squeezing, drawing extra whines from you.

“Isn’t she?” Dazai asks rhetorically, rubbing one of his hands across your belly and up your side. He pulls you by your hips until your ass is partially hanging off the desk. You wrap your legs around his hips and he starts his usual starting pace, fucking into you nice and deep because of the angle he has you at.

“Chuuya,” you say softly, but the way Dazai is fucking you makes everything you say sound like a breathy moan. Both of them turn slightly red from hearing you more or less moan to Chuuya. “Chuuya, take your pants off,” you add, trying to make it clear that you were trying to say this from the beginning. Dazai’s thrusts speed up and hit harder, and he starts grunting from the effort.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, grabbing the edge of the desk for dear life. “Oh, Dazai, fuck!”

You hear the clinking of metal and turn your head to see Chuuya doing as you asked. He drops his pants, kicking them to the side after kicking his shoes off too. He unbuttons his vest and his shirt and strips until he’s only in his underwear and socks. You watch as he palms himself through his underwear, watching from a few feet away as Dazai fucks you relentlessly. Your tits jiggle, your breath shakes, your legs are trembling, and Dazai is huffing and moaning and panting above you. His head is down, his long hair hanging over his face as he watches where your cunt meets his cock--he told you once it’s one of his favorite sights, and when he gets so drunk on it like today, you believe it.

“Let me touch you,” you stumble out to Chuuya, reaching out to him again. He shuffles closer until your hand can paw at his crotch, feeling for the shape of him through cloth. He locks his hands behind his head and stands with his hips toward you, watching as you stroke him and feel him up as best you can.

“Take it off,” you huff, grabbing the elastic of his waistband. “I wanna see.”

Meanwhile, Dazai’s pace doesn’t let up. One of his hands gropes at your breasts, squeezing and almost using it as leverage to balance himself as he fucks you.

“Go on then,” Chuuya says without moving. You struggle to reach both arms over to him, but you manage to squirm away from Dazai just enough-- which he does not like-- to get your hands on Chuuya’s underwear. You pull it down a few inches and push it as much as you can until finally they drop.

His cock is a nice size-- it’s thick and when you wrap your hand around it, an inch or two and the tip are still sticking out. His pubes are thick but cleanly trimmed and with his toned, muscular body you have to admit you’re finding him really, extremely hot.

“Your hands are much softer than mine,” he grunts as you jerk him off. “Feels good.”

“She’s got an amazing mouth,” Dazai pants, finally lifting his head to watch you interact with Chuuya, though his pace never ceases. “Put on a condom and let her show you what she can do.”

“You use condoms?” Chuuya asks, glancing down at Dazai’s dick.

“No, but you will if you’re gonna put your dick anywhere near her,” he mumbles. “I don’t even like her hand on you bare.” He grimaces. “You still keep some in your desk, don’t you?”

“Old habits die hard,” Chuuya mumbles, gently touching your hand to make you let go of him. As he rounds his desk to rifle through his drawers, Dazai leans down and licks one nipple, then the other.

“I’m gonna cum in you,” he mumbles against your skin. “You’re mine. Don’t you forget that.”

“Yeah,” you moan as you agree. His fingers find his way down to your pussy, and you feel one partially slip in beside his cock, working a louder moan from you as it stretches you nicely. He pulls it out, presses in, gently stretching and filling you to the brim.

There’s a thud next to your head, and you turn to see Chuuya kneeling on the desk beside you, rolling a condom over his shaft. “Will you open that pretty mouth for me?”

You don’t even answer, you just whine and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

“She loves it,” Dazai says, and it comes out awfully near to a moan. “Love sucking cock, don’t you, [Y/N]?”

“Mhm,” you hum around Chuuya’s tip as he settles it on your tongue. You close your mouth around him and let him decide the pace. He goes relatively easy on you given how Dazai is still jackhammering away at your cunt, grunting and huffing though he’s far less talkative than normal.

“Yeah, look at you,” Dazai sighs blissfully. “Bet you like having two cocks, huh? Greedy girl.” His eyes are on your mouth, watching Chuuya tamely slide in and out of your mouth. He privately seethes at the way your shiny eyes stare up at Chuuya, but he’s determined to get your attention back by making you cum.

His finger, now sufficiently wet from fingering you while fucking you, slides up from your pussy to your clit. He rubs fast, wide circles over your clit. He relishes in the way your eyes widen and flicker over to him. You must have sucked in a breath and sucked harder on Chuuya, because he moans too and his hips stutter forward.

Dazai knows that you’re about to cum based on your frequent moans. He wishes he could hear them more clearly, but he also is starting to find a sick sort of pleasure in the muffled sound you make combined with the typical noises of having a cock in your mouth. Chuuya’s not too bad looking, either.

Finally it happens. You’re loud, even muffled as you are. You moan and whine, your breathing is heavy and struggles to escape through your nose, but Chuuya doesn’t retract himself to make it any easier on you. Your legs tremble, and Dazai feels proud because of it. The way your walls clench and flutter as your orgasm tears through you milks Dazai’s dick so good.

“Fuck, mm, fuck!” Dazai whimpers and drops his head, once again watching his favorite sight. He’s been fucking you so deeply, and you’ve been so exceptionally wet today, that there’s a sticky, white ring around his shaft and it only gets messier as he cums inside of you. He shoots thick ropes of white deep inside, continuing to thrust increasingly lazily as he empties his load. 

“Stop, stop,” Dazai says softly, touching Chuuya’s hips. Chuuya gives him a look but nods and backs up, finally freeing your mouth. Dazai slips out of you while leaning down to kiss you. You lick and pant into each other’s mouths, and when Dazai pulls away he slides two messy, cum-covered fingers onto your tongue.

“Taste us.”

You clean his fingers off with your mouth and try to sit up once he’s pulled his hand away and stood up himself.

Maybe it’s because of how calm and blissed out Dazai is because of his orgasm, but he lolls his head to the side and smiles lazily at Chuuya. “She’s the wettest she’s ever been,” he sighs happily. “You better get your dick wet before I change my mind. Take that stupid thing off,” he says, waving his hand at Chuuya’s condom-covered dick.

“You sure?” Chuuya asks, raising an eyebrow. He holds himself by the base, languidly stroking when his cock gives an interested twitch at what Dazai offers. Meanwhile, Dazai is helping you to your feet and peppering kisses across your face.

“Yes,” Dazai says, rolling his eyes at Chuuya, then he turns back to you. “Why don’t you take it off him, baby?”

You nod slightly and turn to Chuuya, holding your hands out toward him. He crawls to the edge of the desk beside you, observing the way your legs tremble after the pounding Dazai just gave you. You wrap your hands around him and roll the condom off, handing it to Dazai after which makes him laugh.

“Throw it away,” you mumble, then predicting what he’ll do, you quickly add on “in the trash not on the floor.”

“Yes, darling,” he coos, though it’s unmistakable how disgusted he is to be holding Chuuya’s used condom. He barely grips it with two fingers, holding it away from himself. “In the meantime, I think Chuuya should lay on the floor-- you’ll both like my idea, so just do it.”

You and Chuuya share a look as Dazai goes behind Chuuya’s desk to find a trash can, but Chuuya shrugs and gets down on the floor on his back, one arm behind his head, the other lazily stroking his cock as he looks up at you. His eyes trail down your body, from the hickeys and lovebites all over your neck and chest to your red, sore nipples all the way down to your visibly sticky wet cunt which has been slowly dribbling Dazai’s cum down your thigh.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Chuuya hisses, fisting his cock harder when he notices the cum trail.

“Isn’t she?” Dazai asks, coming back to you. He gives you a few sweet kisses, keeping his eyes cracked open to make sure Chuuya is watching. Then he takes your hands and guides you the few steps over to his former partner on the floor.

“Lay down on top of him, your back on his chest.”

“But I’m gonna--”

“You’re not gonna squish him, he’ll be fine.” Dazai holds your hands as you kneel down, straddling Chuuya’s hips backwards.

“But if you touch him you’ll nullify--”

“He’s tougher than he looks, and he already looks pretty tough-- that’s the only compliment you’re getting from me, Slug.”

Chuuya’s hands grab your waist and help you sit on his hips and then lay back so you’re against his chest.

“Not even using my ability and you’re fine, babe. Don’t worry about your weight, I don’t care.”

“‘Babe,’” Dazai quotes with an edge of bitterness in his voice. You knew he’d get a little jealous letting his former partner in the mix, but it was his idea and you’re intent on seeing it through now. You’ll never tell Dazai, but you do find Chuuya incredibly attractive and once you saw his dick today you knew you weren’t gonna be satisfied until you got your chance to cum on it.

“Babe,” Chuuya says again, helping you readjust until your head is at his shoulder and you’d be able to look at each other or even kiss if you wanted-- not that Dazai would let you.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Sluggy dearest,” Dazai says, swiping some of his cum off of your thigh and spreading it over Chuuya’s tip. “You’ll never see her again after today, so don’t go falling in love with my girl or I really will have to kill you.”

“Like you could ever do that,” Chuuya snaps back. “I’d beat you to a pulp, even without gravity manipulation.”

“Bold talk for a man with my cum on his dick,” Dazai says in an overly playful tone with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Dude, what?! You’re a freak, why did you do that?!”

“It’s gonna get on you anyway, dumbass,” Dazai says. He slides two fingers into you easily, your pussy still being open and wet and so needy for more. He collects some of his cum and your arousal, completely mixed together and unable to discern one from the other. You give a little whine at his fingers in you, and especially at them leaving you, and then Chuuya’s breath hitches and even though you can’t see, you’re pretty sure Dazai is rubbing your slick over his dick.

“Fuck,” Chuuya sighs, and you look over at his face. At first it seems like his eyes are closed, but then you realize he’s just looking at Dazai, and you look down and see Dazai smirking and giving absolute bedroom eyes at Chuuya. Your pussy clenches around nothing, another surge of arousal making you squirm.

Chuuya’s hands grip your hips, and Dazai’s eyes shift to you and he chuckles.

“What is it, baby? Use your words.”

“You’re so hot… both of you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Chuuya purrs in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You think so?” Dazai asks, and you feel something tap against your pussy. You look down and manage to catch that Dazai’s hand is still around Chuuya’s cock, moving it now, making it touch you.

“Yeah,” you moan softly, biting your lip.

“You want Chuuya to fuck you?”

“Mhm…” you hum, nodding. Chuuya chuckles softly and lets one hand roam upward over your skin until he’s palming and kneading your breast. 

“He'll do a good job, too. Won't you Chuuya?” Dazai asks, rubbing Chuuya's dick between the folds of your cunt.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good.” He sighs at the stimulation, his hips bucking up slightly. “Better than that shitty mackerel does, I bet.”

“No chance in hell,” Dazai sneers.

“Let me show her. I'll prove it.” Chuuya bucks his hips up again, trying to get his dick to slip inside. 

“No chance--”

“--Please,” you moan, cutting Dazai off. His face changes from glaring to surprise.

“Oh? You want to find out if he’s better than me?” he asks bitterly, smacking Chuuya’s dick against your pussy.

“No, I want him to fuck me,” you whine.

“That’s not what it sounded like to me.” Dazai frowns, gloom overcoming him.

“Make her cum before I do then, jackass,” Chuuya says, largely ignoring Dazai as he plays with your tits. “Prove you’re better than me.”

“Make me cum, Dazai. Let me use Chuuya like a fuck toy.”

“God damn,” Chuuya says, bucking his hips up again. “I know that’s all I am, but fuck.”

“Yeah…” Dazai’s frown slowly turns to a smirk. “He is just a fuck toy. A big fuck toy that’s gonna fill you up with cum just how you like.” As you and Chuuya give Dazai identical confused looks, Dazai points Chuuya’s cock at your hole and guides him in. The tip drags against your inner walls so well and has you moaning and grinding down on him.

“Go, Slug. Fuck my girl.”

Chuuya’s hips immediately start thrusting up into you. He braces his feet on the floor to get a better angle and he loses himself fucking you. 

“Holy fuck you’re wet,” he huffs. “So fucking good.”

“Oh, yeah,” you moan, reaching up and around to hold the side of his head. “Oh, fuck. Chuuya.”

Dazai tries not to react to the way you moan Chuuya’s name and caress him. It’ll be over soon and he’s not about to let his jealousy take away from the incredibles view he has of your pussy being rammed by a nice, thick cock-- not that he’d ever say those words out loud for Slug to hear. 

He kneels between yours and Chuuya’s legs and runs his hands across your abdomen and belly and near your cunt, calculating how long he think the two of you are gonna last. He knows you’re already sensitive from cumming with him before, and Chuuya hasn’t cum yet at all, so maybe if Dazai gets your pussy clenching around him it’ll be over within five minutes tops.

Dazai leans down with that plan in mind and without impeding Chuuya’s thrusting, he gets his face right up to your cunt and uses the tip of his tongue to circle your clit. You whimper and buck your hips up, then push them back down to meet Chuuya. Dazai doesn’t even need to spit on you-- you’re plenty wet enough-- but he does it anyway, landing a glob right on your swollen clit. He uses the excess wetness to have his tongue gliding effortlessly in circles around your nub. Finally he gets your attention again, and you moan his name. The hand that isn’t in Chuuya’s hair slides down into Dazai’s, and he relaxes a bit now that you’re touching him.

The combination of Chuuya fucking you from behind and Dazai’s tongue now flicking relentlessly back and forth over your clit-- all the wet sounds, the smell of Chuuya’s cologne, his moaning in your ear, his hands still tweaking and playing with your incredibly over-sensitive nipples-- it’s too much. You can’t even talk; you can’t tell either one how you feel, how good they are. You can hardly moan, most of what comes out of you being only broken, stuttery noises thanks to the way Chuuya’s movements wrack your whole body and control the way even your breathing works right now.

I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna make it. you think, but you’re unable to warn either one of them. Chuuya must know it’s coming from the way your cunt clenches around him. He hisses and turns his head so his lips hover over your nose, moaning your name right at you.

Finally it happens when Dazai sucks on your clit and pushes a finger into your tight cunt alongside Chuuya’s cock. It’s overwhelming. There’s too much happening, too much going on from the both of them. You’re completely dumb on Chuuya’s cock, complete putty in Dazai’s hands.

You cum hard, arching your back up to let Chuuya fuck you deeper if possible. You squirt profusely, drenching Dazai’s mouth and getting a surprised chuckle from him.

“Good girl,” he praises, but you barely hear it over the way Chuuya shouts a string of swears next to your face. His hands finally leave your tits and grip your hips hard. He only thrusts a few more times before he’s cumming too, painting the inside of your cunt white for the second time. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chuuya chants as he comes down, his movements slowing until he’s finally completely still. Dazai sits up and smiles a shit-eating grin at you.

“We made her squirt, Slug. Did you feel it?”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, dropping his head back and turning it away from you. “I’m not cleaning that shit up, though.”

“Did you cum inside…?” you ask quietly as Dazai starts maneuvering Chuuya’s softening dick out of you.

“He said to,” Chuuya says flippantly.

“Think about it, baby,” Dazai says. “There’s no way his shitty little swimmers will beat mine. If you get pregnant, that's gonna be my baby in there.”

“It’s only ‘cause you’re a shitty mackerel. Fish swim.”

[justabrunettewhowrites-stuff]

Hiii.I have a rq!

Luke accidentally kills reader after reader takes a blow meant for percy?

'Even A Stab Hurts Less'

Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader

A/N:Hi lovely!Ty for the rq!I'm going to post a bit more this week since I have a break.

WARNINGS!!:Mentions of blood,r!dies,Angst! SAD ENDING!!

You and Luke found yourselves walking along the path of Thalia's Pine.Luke's smile was infectious, and as he spoke of his dreams and ambitions, you couldn't help but be swept away by his passion.

"You know," Luke said, his eyes sparkling with excitement, "one day, I'm going to change the world. I'm going to make a difference, not just for demigods, but for everyone."

You smiled, taking his hand in yours. "I believe in you, Luke. You have so much potential, and I know you'll do great things."

But even as you spoke those words, a shadow of doubt crept into your mind. You had heard whispers of unrest among some of the campers, murmurs of dissatisfaction with the gods and their lack of intervention. And though you loved Luke with all your heart,you couldn't shake the feeling that his ambitions might lead him down a dangerous path.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, but your worries only grew. Luke became more distant, more consumed by his own thoughts and plans. You tried to talk to him, to reach out and understand what was bothering him, but he always brushed you off with a smile and a promise that everything would be alright.

Then came the day when everything changed.Your heart shattered into a million pieces.You couldn't believe that the boy you loved, the boy you had shared your hopes and dreams with, could turn against everything he once stood for...

But despite the pain and the betrayal, when Luke stood before you with a blade in his hand, poised to strike down Percy, you didn't hesitate. You stepped in front of Percy, taking the blow meant for him. The pain was terrible, but you refused to cry out. You refused to give Luke the satisfaction of seeing you break.

As blood spilled from your wound, staining the ground beneath you, you looked up at Luke, tears streaming down your face as a hand reaches to cover the wound "Even a stab hurts less than the way you broke my heart," you croaked out bitterly,your voice barely a breath against the chaos around you.

Luke's eyes widened in horror, his hands trembling as he dropped the blade.He loved you too much,and yet... "No... no, this wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't want this... I never wanted this."

But it was too late. Your hand went limp at your side, your vision blurring as darkness crept in at the edges.Despite the bitterness you felt and the disgust,you reached out for Luke,wanting nothing more than to hold him one last time, but he recoiled from your touch as if it burned.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with tears. "I'm so sorry..."

And as your eyes closed for the final time, you couldn't help but wonder if there had ever been any goodness left in Luke's heart, or if it had been consumed by darkness long before you ever met him.

Luke's cries of anguish echoed in the night, but the blame he placed on Percy was palpable.

"No.This...this is all your fault!" Luke shouted, his voice laced with bitterness as he turned accusingly towards Percy. "She took the hit for you... she died because of you!It was supposed to be you,not her.Not her..."

But deep down, Luke knew the truth. He was the one who had let you down, the one who had betrayed your trust and shattered your heart. And as he watched your life slip away, he knew he could never forgive himself for what he had done.He had lost you...

A/N:Just woke up from a 6 hr nap and idk what gave me the confidence I can write,but anyways 💀

[nanaminsmoon]

Good morning!!!! I love your blog so much!!!!💗🫶🏾 Your writing is amazing???

Baby daddy Choso????

thank you so much!!! but thanks for requesting this fren bc i love this so much🤭

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving), choking (f+m receiving), spit kink, choso calls reader; 'baby' and 'baby girl', this man is a masochist lowkey, yeah this is a lil nasty

wc: 3858

your twins loved their dad; excited feet would scamper their way to your bedroom, three hours earlier than usual, every friday because they knew it’d be the day they’d see him. and you guys had a routine: you got them ready in the morning, took them to school, then choso’d pick them up, and they'd be his for the weekend.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

and, during those 48 hours, there was no beach far enough, nor park busy enough, for choso because he would take his girls wherever they wanted to go. every week, pinkie promises to not tell you about staying up later than rules would allow were made between the trio. then, come sunday morning, the girls would be impatiently jumping into your arms, as soon as you opened your door—usually with some playful change in their appearances. yet this particular one would cause your forehead to crease in confusion,

”what's on my daughter's face?”, you’d ask, once the girls were of earshot. immediately, choso knew what you were talking about but he’d play dumb just to irk you.

”eyes, eyelashes, eyebro—”, he’d start listing, and you’d interrupt him.

”no, dickhead, the thing over her nose”, you clarified and he’d inwardly rejoice at his success at annoying you.

”oh. she saw my tattoo and said she wanted one, so i just got her a little temporary one”, he’d explain, eyes trained on the twins as he waved back at them while they ran around the house.

”and when she wants it for real?”, you’d poke at his chest, and his hand would rise to hold the spot your fingertip had touched as he faked a pained expression.

”i don't know how reckless you think i am, but i'm not gonna tattoo a six year old”, he’d scoff, but his amusement would fall to flatten quite quickly.

as hard as choso tried to fan the hurt fogging his mind, it just wouldn’t leave him. choso could be denounced for his work over, and over, again and he’d bounce back because he was so confident and sure of his abilities. but jabs at his skills as a father never failed to pinch at his heart. people would spend an hour with him, then start to question his parenting abilities based off the way he looked and his reserved manner. the prickling in his chest didn’t come from insecurity, but from sensitivity to reminders of the same baseless assumption. especially coming from someone he deemed to be the perfect parent,

”why do you keep doing that?”, he’d look at you earnestly, and confusion would force your eyebrows together.

”doing what?”,

”making me out to be this bad influence.”,

”maybe it’s because you run around with cancer sticks behind your ears”, you pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, and shoved it in his pocket.

”aside from that. you treat me like i'm gonna corrupt the girls.”, he paused, ”you treat me the way your parents treated me”, due to his appearance and impassive demeanour, most people around you had opposed your relationship with choso. your friends warned he’d be a terrible father, and your parents mistook how reserved he was for coldness, and arrogance. outwardly, he seemed inattentive, rude, and aloof but choso didn’t care because the most important people in his life understood him. he was his daughters’ best friend, protector, and joint number one on their list of favourite princesses to join their tea parties—the other being you.

no matter how many years passed, you’d always love choso. though you weren’t together anymore, the need to defend him against those who misunderstood him had never dissipated. so to hear that you had become one of the people you had spent almost a decade trying to quieten, lunged your heart into your throat.

”choso, i'm so sorry. i didn't know i was being—”, you’d start to apologise, but you’d be quickly interrupted. penitence sunk all your features in a way choso couldn’t ignore; he knew you had no malintent with your words, and he didn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.

”nah, it's cool.”, he waved you off, ”i get it, but you know me. you know i love them to death and i'd never encourage anything that i knew would hurt them. but anyways, i guess i'll go now, i'll see you on frida—”, he’d been stood in the doorway and, as he began to step backwards to leave, your hands would clasp one of his. he’d be visibly surprised, but his feet would still be ladened to their spot.

”let me make it up to you”, you'd propose, and intrigue would raise choso’s eyebrow.

you’d always known there were benefits to your best friend being your neighbour, and today would be the day you’d reap one of them. after instructing choso to sit and wait on the couch, you’d gather the girls’ stuff and take them next door. you’d come back to choso still sat where you had left him, legs spread and large hand dwarfing his phone. the urge to jump on his dick right then and there was stronger than you would’ve liked, but you’d keep composed. even under his fervent glare as he watched you take your shoes off. there’d be a moment of waiting once your eyes met, then you’d beckon for him to follow you. choso’s curiosity was eating away at him, but if there’s one thing he had learnt during your time together it was that he was not to question your plans. even as he realised you were leading him to your bedroom, he’d just scoff to himself and continue trailing you.

once at the door, you’d open it and hold it for him to go in. and, chuckling, he’d enter the room, chills already running down his spine at the way those four walls boxed him into your scent, and swathed him in it. his back being turned to you allowed choso to shamelessly close his eyes, and take it all in. he’d only be brought back to reality by the clicking of the door lock.

”the fuck are you doing?”, he laughed as he turned around.

”making it up to you, now sit.”, he'd raise his hands in surrender, before he’d sit on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed as he watched you saunter your way towards him.

one thing led to another, and you went from kissing and licking at choso's bulge through his boxers to having his dick throat deep inside you. during your relationship, head had been one of choso’s favourite things. he’d even claimed that, had your pussy not been so good, he’d like head more than sex. there were never enough words to explain it but, to him, there was nothing that drove him crazier than the sight of your eyelashes batting up at him as you took all of him into your mouth, nose tickling his pelvic bone. and, busy with his tattoo studio, choso didn't have a lot of time to date so he couldn't remember the last time he felt a woman's throat enclose around his tip the way yours did. his toes were damn near gripping at the carpet through his socks, as his fingers dug into the duvet. though their one wish was to be entangled in your tresses, scratching at your scalp when you swallowed around him, choso hadn’t forgotten that the reason you had asked him to drop the girls off two hours later than usual, was because you were getting your hair done. so he'd refrain for an entire two seconds, fingers contracting around nothing, before he'd just ask,

”can i put—fuck—my hands in your h—shit, y/n—hair”. and another low ’shit’ would leave his lips when you'd pull him out of your mouth to show him the lewd mix of your saliva and his precum leaking out your lips.

”’f you fuck it up, then you gotta pay for me to get it redone”, you tilted your head to run his length against you lips, and choso’s hands were on your head immediately.

”yes, ma’am”, he moaned out.

though you had been broken up for five years, the mutual sexual attraction between you two had never dwindled, so you two fucking post-breakup was inevitable. that being said, choso hadn't nutted in you in almost two years and he didn’t want the first time in 24 months to be in your mouth. that’s what his heart wanted, but his body would have other plans. head wasn’t just about the feeling for choso, the man loved a performance. knowing this, you’d pull him out of your mouth to allow a string of spit and precum hang from your lips, letting it land on his length again just so you could use it as lube to stroke him a few more times.

”you can’t do shit like that, y/n, i’ll nu—”, his strained voice tried to explain, but it’d be cut short by more of your antics. one second your lips would be around his balls, then the next they'd be damn near touching his pelvic bone, as you took him into your throat again. he'd raise his hand to place it on your forehead,

”w-wait, y/n i'm gonna—fuckfuckfuckfuck—baby, wait i'm gonna cum”, he'd warn, but you'd just take that as a signal to keep hallowing your cheeks and taking him into your throat. the pleasure delayed his reflexes, so choso wouldn’t be fast enough in pulling his dick from your mouth; most of his nut would be inside it and, as you let his dick slip from your lips, he’d get some on your cheek, chin and nose too. the tip of your middle finger would collect some of it, and put it in your mouth, eyes locked with his as you did so.

”i forgot how fucking nasty you are”, he'd chuckle before flopping backwards to face the ceiling, as he just laid on his back.

choso’s love for head wasn’t limited to just receiving, because one of his life’s finest pleasures resided between your legs.

”i just need to get you ready f’r me, baby”, would be his response when you told him he didn’t need to reciprocate. but the truth was, choso luxuriated in the way you grabbed at his hair and closed your thighs around his head—the near suffocation was the closest to heaven he thought he’d ever get. he loved the way your body didn't know what to do with itself, squirming underneath the cold metal of his tongue, and lip, piercing. yet, nothing could dethrone the way the warmth of your thighs taking away all his air made his dick twitch. he'd enjoy the gratifying discomfort they brought, before he'd force your legs open again,

”you taste so fucking good, baby, i don't know how i went without this for so long”, he'd say when he came back up for a breath. his fingertips would dig into your thighs as he placed your legs on his shoulders. fingertips would soon be substituted for large palms, as choso pushed the flesh together to basically cut off his air supply. it felt sick to admit, but he loved the feeling of you essentially choking him out.

choso hadn't intended on eating you out until you came, but once he’d started, he couldn't stop. he’d lost track of time and then, all of a sudden, the feeling of your nails on his scalp was harsher. and if he wasn’t relishing in the feeling, eyes fluttering shut in enjoyment, he might’ve noticed that you were about cum a lot sooner. but he’d only catch on when your babbles became more coherent,

”chos-so, i'm-m cumming, shit”, you'd say, and when his brain finally processed those words, it'd be too late because he'd have your release all over him.

for a few moments, the only sounds audible in your room were your heavy breathing and the sound of choso licking your arousal off his fingers. the glisten of the inside of your thighs would catch his attention, and he’d move to remove them of their shimmer. the feeling of the metal on your skin would coax a jolt out of you, before you’d be backing away from his mouth to sit up and face him. the man looked depraved; hair a mess, and face shining, as he just smirked at you.

the shirt covering your top half would be off, as well as choso’s shirt and boxers. and, seeing your bare body for the first time in years was having visible effects on choso—he was stunned.

”wow”, he said, in a whisper, reaching to hold you but you’d pushed his shoulder.

”what?”, you giggled, and he just shook his head so as to not make you feel embarrassed.

”no, i just…i forgot how beautiful you are”,

”shut up, bruh”, you'd playfully roll your eyes, before pulling at choso’s arm to switch your positions. his interest would be piqued yet again, and you'd quell it with a sloppy kiss to his lips. you’d mount choso to sit at the bottom of his abdomen, and his hands landed on your hips. they'd help you ride the ridges of his toned stomach, taking note of how you moaned into his mouth as your juices smeared all over his lower torso.

you'd soon shift yourself, sliding down his length and choso wouldn’t be able to see much of it because his eyes rolled to shut once he felt you wrap around him. hands placed on his broad chest, you'd move up and down on him and his tatted fingers would dig into your hips. choso’s pleasure was visceral, and he almost wanted it to stop before he got too attached and refused to let it end as he had many times before. when you and choso fucked, you did so for hours because you were both relentless. yet, as good as this felt, choso was ashamed to admit that something was missing.

”this is all for me, right?”, he'd ask breathily, hands stilling you. it’d be hard to formulate thought, because you were just paused with his dick deep inside you. but you'd manage a shabby attempt at a nod.

”well, can you…”, choso’d pause, eyes wandering around the bed, and his uncertainty would make you anxious. when it came to sex, you two had always been honest, and open to try anything. so if it made him cautious, then it was one of two things; something he’d been wanting for a while, or something completely left field.

“could you choke me?”, he'd ask, and your once lidded eyes would be widely staring back at him.

”like…?”, you'd raise your hand, and both of his would engulf it, leading it to his neck.

”this.”, he looked you in your eyes, and your hand grew firmer, ”and just keep it there”, he'd instruct, and you'd nod, before starting to move again.

though new to you, you began seeing the appeal of choking choso very quickly. mainly because of the way his eyelids would flutter, as his eyes rolled to shut, just by virtue of feeling your hand on his neck. not to mention the way his hips would move on their own to rut into you, every time your thumb and middle finger tightened around his throat. he may have been larger than you in stature, but choso was completely under your control. both the tightness of your walls, and the feeling of your hand around his neck—sweat making it hard for you to move while maintaining a secure grip on him—was making him delirious. and he never wanted it to stop.

choso's mouth was making any noise it could muster to express how good he was feeling. he went from quietly cursing under his breath, to just shouting cuss words at you. you weren't far from your nut either; due to both the view and the way his dick’s chase for more pleasure, made choso fuck into you harder. the feeling made your thighs weaken but, ultimately, choso would be the first to let go,

”where d’you want it?”, he asked, and your hand would remain on his neck as you leaned down to speak to him.

”nut in me, choso”, you’d whine, lips latching onto his neck to kiss it. the combination of the sultriness of your voice and your lips attacking the most sensitive spot on his neck, would’ve been enough but choso completely lost it when he’d feel a sting as you marked his skin. he'd cum underneath you, hips stuttering upwards to prolong the pleasure he was feeling. all choso could do was cuss, and dig his trimmed fingernails into you before just laying there, a shell of his former self.

you'd be riding him for a few more minutes, before choso’s control of his limbs would return to him, then he’d have you laid underneath him. no further words would be exchanged before he was slamming into you, silver chains dangling in your face and his hand on your throat, as he fucked you with vigor. as amazing as the opposite had felt, choso much preferred this version of things. he preferred looking down at you as your eyes fluttered and rimmed with salty displays of euphoria, he’d even lean down to lick one as it ran down the side of your cheek. choso indulged in the way you'd grab his forearm as strong as you could, sanguine crescents colouring in the empty spaces in his tattoos. he'd lean down to suck on your nipples, nipping at them just so he could hear the raising in pitch your moans and whines would do when that sensation coursed through you. his eyes would flicker down to the white froth collecting at the base of his dick, as his nut was pushed out of you with his every thrust.

”you're doing this all for me, right?”, he'd ask, and you'd nod, ”this fucked out all for me. taking this dick so good just for me”, he'd say, lips once again around your nipples.

choso wasn't letting up; his pace was merciless, as he fucked you dumb. most times you had fucked, choso would slow down, or pull out, when that familiar constriction of your walls told him you were close. he'd do it until you were crying and begging underneath him, voice growing excrutiatingly hoarse. but, seeing as you already had tears in your eyes, he'd only do it once before he'd just maintain a harsh rhythm as you came around him.

”choso, fffuck”, you cried out, but he'd just keep going. his eyes were so focused on the silhouette of his dick moving in and out of you, as your stomach contracted, that he'd lost all sight of where he was. you could've told choso he was jupiter and the man would've believed you. he couldn't even remember why you guys had started fucking in the first place, all he knew was that he didn't want to stop. to choso, thinking about anything that wasn’t you was a waste of brain power. so he'd turn his brain off and let his body do whatever it wanted to. even if it meant overstimulation for the both of you.

your third nut would be pretty imminent, seeing as choso literally would not stop moving inside of you. but it'd be unlike the others,

”choso, g-gimme a s-second”, you'd say, and he'd shake his head because he knew what you were doing. choso knew your body, and he knew it well; he knew what you were trying to prevent well enough to know that it was the very thing he was striving for,

”you said you doing all this for me, baby.”, he'd remind you, ”’nd i wanna see you make a fucking mess on my dick.”, his words would do nothing but edge you closer to your nut.

”can you do that f’r me?”, he’d ask, and you’d nod your head.

”just f’r me?”, he’d ask, voice laboured, ”i don’t deserve you, baby”, he’d pout before moving down to connect your lips.

and, under his instruction, you’d just let that funny little feeling near your bladder do whatever it wanted to. one of your hands would be struggling to wrap around choso’s wrist, while the other would be gripping the sheets for dear life. the hand choso had placed on your neck would remain stagnant, movement only reserved for the other as it moved to your clit. worries about you moving because of how fast, and hard, he was fucking you were nonexistent because the sweat covering your body meant that you were adhered to the fabric underneath you. choso's tatted fingers would rub on your bud until you came on them, practically spraying him with your release.

a low chuckle would leave choso's mouth at the endearing view of you trying to calm your body down. heavy breaths would slither past your lips, but your eyes remained closed. choso’s hand would plant a light slap to your cheek to wake you back up, but it'd be to no avail. so he’d try once more, this time, grabbing your chin to shake your face until your eyes opened.

”say ‘ah’, baby girl”, he'd ask, and you'd open your mouth as wide as your slack jaw would allow. a line of spit would fall from his lips to your tongue before you'd swallow it, and he'd smirk to himself.

”didn’t even have to tell you what to do”, he’d snicker, and you’d smile contently up at him. the woman choso was seeing was so unlike the one he had met so many years ago, and he dreaded to think that the sweet glint in your eyes had bittered because of him. however, that dread would quickly fade and, in its place, would be a knowing smirk,

”shit, maybe i am a bad influence.”

[wileys-russo]

best friends sister II platonic!a.russo x reader

y'all have been sending in the requests for AI alessia being her gay older sister who plays for arsenal and i hope it satisfies because it was tricky to write lmao, so picture that ^ is isabella

best friends sister II platonic!a.russo x reader

"-and you promise that you're not mad?" your best friend bit down on her bottom lip nervously as you smiled as reassuringly as you could. "less of course i'm not mad! why would i be?" you laughed and shook your head at the blonde you'd all but grown up side by side with.

"because we always said the plan would be for you to go to university and me to play professionally in whatever club was closest so we could do it together, and i've ruined that!" your best friend sighed guiltily, collapsing back into her pillows.

"alessia. you are one of the best up and coming footballers there is, you've got a huge career ahead of you and this is the perfect next step to launch you into it. i'd be selfish cow and a terrible best friend to try and keep you from it." you promised sincerely, grabbing her hand and squeezing with a nod.

"will i miss you? of course. but i want you to go, i promise." you affirmed firmly. "and i promise that i'll make sure we don't drift apart. best friends for life means for life, and you better come and visit!" alessia held out her pinky as you grinned and interlocked it with your own.

"okay well that makes me feel a bit better because i was stressed about telling you!" the girl sighed and sat back up. "i've also been stuck with you for like ten years now, i'd really like a break." you shoved her playfully, ducking as she swung back at you with a grin and slid off her bed.

"please we both know you'll be a blubbering mess at the airport, your only friend off on a whirlwhind adventure and you...stuck here." alessia pouted sarcastically as you gasped. "i have loads of other friends thank you! you just refuse to accept that because you're notoriously posessive and needy." you teased back with a grin.

"and i'm off to university anyway you dickhead! where i'm sure i'll find myself a new blondie to spend my every waking day with." you jeered as she fumbled around in her cupboard for something. "you better not or i'll be forced to come back and kick her head in." alessia warned making you laugh.

"unless its a girlfriend of course, you desperately need one of those so you can stop kissing your hand." your best friend shrugged dropping a large box on her bed. "less! that was one time years ago and i told you that in strict confidence!" you kicked at her as she grinned, your cheeks blushing red.

"what? i wouldn't blame you for dating someone who looked like me, i know it's your biggest shame that you're secretly in love with me." the blonde pouted patting your leg making you roll your eyes.

"please. you know it's actually homophobic to assume that because i like girls that i like you, and here i was thinking you'd be an ally." you tutted as her eyes widened and she scrambled to ramble out an apology.

"an ally? please." you both looked up at the new voice, alessia's older sister isabella leaning in the doorway with a smirk. "have you heard of knocking?" alessia sighed as bella shrugged. "have you heard of not caring?" the older girl retorted walking into the room further as you covered up a laugh with a cough and alessia shot you a glare.

"see? she thinks i'm funny. why are you so in denial?" bella pouted, the two always arguing about something which amused you to no end given it was often over something so incredibly small it seemed they just enjoyed bickering.

there was only two years between them and they had more in common than either would care to admit, in fact both would argue they were one anothers opposite that really wasn't true.

you knew isabella had been training with arsenal in their junior academy and was hoping for a professional contract now she'd made her senior debut for the lionesses, both goals alessia was quickly following in her footsteps to also achieve, the entire russo household all football mad.

"what's all this then? college bribing you not to come anymore?" she began to rifle through the large box on the bed which you realised was full of various UNC swag. "get your filthy hands off it thank you! god knows where they've been." alessia scoffed, pushing her away and snapping the box closed.

"they're squeaky clean. want to check?" the older russo smirked, grabbing alessia by the face with her hand and pulling her into a headlock as you watched on in amusement. "get out! god i'm gonna miss you the least." alessia eventually pulled away, shoving the taller girl across the room with a glare.

"still admit you'll miss me though, and mum wants you." the girl winked backing away. "for what?" alessia questioned with a frown. "mm she did tell me, but i didn't care enough to remember." with a shrug bella left the room leaving alessia fuming and you quietly chuckling.

"why do you always egg her on by laughing! she's not funny she's infuriating!" alessia huffed glaring at you now as you held your hands up in defense, your best friend dragging you with her downstairs to see what her mum wanted.

~

"dinners ready. can you go get your sister and her friend please lessi?" carol asked, shooting the blonde a firm glare when she groaned at the request. "why do i have to come?" you laughed as she grabbed the back of your top, tugging you up with her.

"just think of it as me wanting to spend as much time with you before i leave." alessia grinned as the two of you ascended the stairs, her brothers already having moved out it just left alessia and isabella living at home.

"oh thats it is it?" you rolled your eyes knowing she was full of it as you reached her sisters door, alessia giving her sister the same courtesy she gave her as she flung her door open without knocking.

though she wished she hadn't.

"get out!" the older russo sat up quickly half naked spare some shorts and a bra, having been previously hovered over the girl pinned beneath her, the two clearly making out.

"jesus my poor eyes! dinners ready, looks like you were just about to eat though bella." alessia smirked before leaving the room, purposefully leaving her sisters door open.

"what are your ears painted on? fuck off!" bella scowled, throwing a pillow at you as you stood frozen, quickly spinning around and almost running out of the room, the door slamming closed after you.

safe to say she didn't come down for dinner after that.

"it's not even scary less, its a thriller!" you argued as you and alessia made your way back upstairs, each of you stating your case over what you wanted to watch tonight.

"my names not lily? jesus you're worse than what everyone says!" you both glanced down the hallway before entering alessia's room, the girl from earlier standing there with her arms crossed and an angry look on her face.

"sorry?" bella shrugged leaning in her doorway, clearly not sorry as the mystery girl whose name was not lily scoffed, shoving the taller girl and hurrying off downstairs to leave. "you truly are disgusting." alessia grimaced as her sister only grinned.

"careful now ally, did you used to say the same about all the girls gio snuck round?" the older girl winked, leaving her sister scoffing and about to defend herself before the door thudded closed.

"god she is insufferable."

~

"can you go make more popcorn?" alessia asked, head buried in her phone as you nodded, more than comfortable to help yourself to anything in the russo household. "can i go and make more popcorn..." you trailed off expectantly as the blonde tossed her phone beside her.

"now?" she guessed with a grin, causing you to flip her off as she tossed an m&m at your head and began to rummage around for the remote to select a new movie.

with it being half past ten at night you expected the kitchen to be vacant, though you noticed the lights were all on and as you rounded the corner you saw the older russo sister sat at the benchtop eating a plate of leftovers from dinner.

her attention on her phone she didn't notice you at first, only looking up as she heard you start to rummage around in the pantry. "surely we've started to charge you rent by now?" the older girl teased as you emerged with a bag of popcorn, rolling your eyes and tossing it in the microwave.

"i'll make sure to sign a jersey for you once i get my pro contract so you can sell it and buy my family some food since you consume so much of it." the taller girl shoved your head to the side playfully as you moved out of her way so she could rinse her plate.

"so. did you enjoy the little show earlier pervert?" she smirked, glancing at you as she dried up her plate. "what? you're so weird." you frowned, pulling yourself to sit up on the counter.

"please. you know if you asked me nicely i'd kiss you so you can stop wondering what it feels like." she grinned, moving closer to you as your frown turned into a scowl. "or so you can stop using your hand. less talks quite loudly you know." she teased, standing in between your legs as you tensed up a little.

if you were honest with yourself you'd always found her to be quite attractive but you'd never ever go there, both for your own and alessia's sake.

"i've kissed girls!" you defended truthfully, and you had, you'd just not ever progressed any further than that. "mm but have you been kissed by a girl?" the older russo quirked an eyebrow, leaning in closer as her hands fell either side of your body, somewhat caging you in.

"thats the same thing." you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore how hard your heart was hammering in your chest. "that means no then." bella chuckled, tilting her head slightly.

"i mean have you ever been properly kissed by a girl? when she's got her tongue roaming your mouth, her teeth nipping down on your bottom lip before she sucks on it to soothe the sting-" she leaned in closer as your eyes widened.

"-where one of her hands are on the back of your neck so you can't pull away until she lets you, and the other hand...well it touches other parts of you." the older girl grinned wickedly, her mouth ghosting yours before she put her plate back in the cupboard behind your head and pulled away entirely.

"baby gays are always the cutest." bella winked, ruffling your hair and walking off as if she hadn't just sent your head into a spin, the beep of the microwave making you jump a little as you slid off the counter, shaking your head to try and rid it of the thoughts you'd just had.

she was your best friends sister, she'd always be off limits.

~

"just when i thought we'd gotten rid of you." you rolled your eyes as isabella opened the door for you with a sigh. "no one else is here and your best friends in another country, so then you must be here for me?" she grinned as you pushed past her, heading for the stairs.

alessia had been gone for months now and you missed her like crazy, so much so you'd booked a flight to go and visit her during what was to be her spring break and your time off from your own university course.

though of course that meant the girl had texted you a rather elaborate list of things she'd left behind that she requested you bring with you to see her, which despite the ongoing teasing that she'd lose her head was it not attached to her body you agreed to go and collect.

"she'd kill you for being in here." you sighed as the older russo collapsed onto her younger sisters bed, making herself comfortable as you began to gather what alessia had requested.

"only if you snitch me in." the girl grinned, watching you as you fluttered around the room. "surely you have something better to do? being a big pro now and all!" you sighed, looking at her with your hands on your hips.

"so you did hear! not even a congratulations? thats just poor manners." bella tutted with a shake of her head, sitting up and moving to the edge of the mattress. "i'm not an arsenal fan." you teased with a smile, hearing her scoff in mock offence.

"you don't have to be, you can just be my fan." bella challenged as you again rolled your eyes. "you know if i had a pound for every time you rolled your eyes at me over the years i could have bought a house by now." the older russo sister grinned.

"must mean you say a lot of stupid things to have girls always rolling their eyes at you." you quipped, rummaging through and grabbing out two hoodies, tossing them onto your growing pile.

"i personally prefer to make their eyes roll back into their heads." the taller girl commented quite casually, your eyes widening for a moment at the abrupt statement but choosing to ignore it. "so what are you doing after this?" she stood and made her way out, leaning in the doorway.

"going home?" you quirked an eyebrow unsure where she was going with this. "do you want to watch a movie or something?" she asked surprising you.

"are you asking me to hang out?"

"maybe. you miss less, i miss less, though if you tell her that i'll deny it till the day i die, we may as well keep one another company."

"plus i'm older so less's entire personality comes from me anyway. so it'll be like she never left, just swap one russo for another!" she added on with a smile as you shook your head.

"yeah sure, why not."

~

"burn yourself with the straightener did you?" you flinched suddenly as the girls thumb gently pressed into a fading love bite on the side of your neck, the only lingering evidence from an incredibly drunken hook up at a university party you'd gone to over the weekend.

and much to your best friends horror and delight, where you'd finally lost your virginity, before her.

"none of your business!" you pushed her hand away as she smiled and turned her attention back to the movie. well, for a few minutes. "finally dropped the baby gay card then, feel good?" she teased as you rolled your eyes.

"stop calling me that."

"oh sorry, prefer if i just call you baby then?"

"stop, bella seriously."

"what?"

"can you not keep it in your pants around anyone? or do you just shamelessly flirt with anything that moves?" you shot her a dirty side eye only making her smile widen. "well the something has to be female, obviously." you tried to hide your smile with your hand but she grabbed your wrist.

"saw that!" she teased as you tried to pull away, the two of you messing around for a moment before she leaned in and your heart began to race, recognize her eyes flicker down to your lips.

"we can't." you whispered, hating how unsure your voice sounded. "tell me to stop and i will." she whispered back, leaning in even closer as you opened your mouth and she paused, but you couldn't speak.

taking that as permission she closed the small gap in between you both, pressing her lips firmly to yours. you'd have loved to say you pushed her off, told her again that you couldn't, thought about your best friend and what she might think.

but the only thing that consumed your mind was her and how good her mouth felt molded with your own. as you began to kiss back you felt her hands move, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle her lap, movie long forgotten in the background.

"alessia." you pulled away remembering your best friend as the older girl nipped at your bottom lip and your stomach twisted. "doesn't have to know." bella promised and you hesitated for a moment, but as her lips curled into a cocky smile and her hand flew to the back of your head, you knew you were a goner.

~

safe to say that was not the last time it happened, far from it.

you ignored the guilt which bubbled up in your stomach as you pretended it never happened, flying over to see your best friend and spending two blissful weeks with her, then flying over again a couple of months later to watch her in the she believes tournament where she would finally get her senior national team debut.

though of course that also meant isabella would be playing, and their whole family would be there with you.

"i'm so so proud of you!" you yelled happily as your best friend jogged over, shit eating grin on her face as she wrapped you up in a hug, isabella hanging back as she chatted with some of her team mates, though her eyes lingered on you.

and it was those lingering eyes which eventually did you both in.

you were all out for dinner after the game, you seated beside your best friend and luca, gio opposite him as the other russo sister sat across from you and mario across from alessia, carol at the head of the table.

you'd hardly spoken to her the entire time you'd been around, focusing all of your time and attention on the rare moments spent with your best friend who you knew you'd have to say goodbye to again in a few days time.

however that didn't stop the defender from trying to gain your attention, sending you subtle looks across the table as she kicked you playfully, winking at you when alessia wasn't looking.

well, when she thought she wasn't looking.

dinner finished you excused yourself to the bathroom, declining your best friends offer to come with you with a laugh as you promised to meet them outside the restaurant.

you did your business and washed your hands, hearing the door open but not bothering to look up, jumping in shock as arms wrapped around your torso and a familiar pair of lips pressed themselves to your neck.

"bella we can't." you chuckled, though still leaning your head back a little to give her more access, eyes fluttering closed as she peppered the warm skin with butterfly kisses. "can't we?" she smirked at you through the mirror with that same cocky smile that made your knees weak every time.

"i've missed you in camp." she confessed softly, spinning your body round and pushing it into the bathroom counter, wasting no time rewarding you with a searing kiss which sent your head spinning.

"they'll wonder where we are." you exhaled shakily, using all your willpower and pushing her off you. "you won't escape me later." she warned playfully, nodding for you to leave first as she hung back.

it was several hours later, you and alessia hanging in your shared hotel room together catching up just like normal, your combined laughters echoing around the room as the girls phone suddenly buzzed.

"hey i have to go talk to the training staff about something. but find a movie, i'll be back!" she promised, rolling off the bed as you nodded, not bothering to question why she was suddenly needing to speak to the training staff at almost ten at night.

alessia wasted no time marching down the hallway to where her sisters room was, knocking impatiently as she answered. "oh come on in!" the older russo chuckled as alessia shoved past her, checking the two of them were alone.

"how long?" alessia asked, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the taller girl who frowned, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "pardon?"

"how long have you been fucking my best friend behind my back?" alessia spat, scarily calm as a storm brewed behind her bright blue eyes. "look less-"

"no, don't lie. i saw your little fuck me eyes across the table, and it wasn't her leg you kept kicking at the table. so tell me the truth." alessia warned as her sister sighed, rubbing her face with her hands unsure how to find a way out of this.

"we haven't slept together, i promise."

"but?"

"but we've done, other things."

"you are seriously unbelievable. you couldn't just be happy plowing your way through every insecure footballer in london, you had to go for my best friend?" alessia yelled angrily, fists balled by her sides.

"woah okay less i think you're overre-"

"you're going to stay away from her bella. she's not just another name for your books, she's my best friend and a better sister to me than you've ever been!" alessia fumed, hurt flashing across the older girls face momentarily before it hardened.

"it takes two to tango. you gonna go yell at her too then?"

"she can't have known any better, which is why you're going to stay away from her. i won't let you take advantage of the fact she see's the good in people, as little of it exists in you."

"fine. get out!" the taller girl stood, shoving her sister back who scoffed, turning on her heel. "happily!" the door slamming after her, you none the wiser of anything that had just happened as alessia returned, plastering a fake smile on her face and not uttering a single word about it.

which is why it hurt all the more as you slipped out of your room to call your mum that next morning as to not wake your best friend.

making the mistake of glancing down the hall, you watched as a random girl slipped out of one of the rooms, a familiar face kissing her goodbye with a grin.

you froze and thats when her eyes met yours, not a single look of regret on her face as you stared one another down for a moment before she watched you hurry back into alessia's room.

she was your best friends sister, and that's all she'd ever be to you.

[catmelonwriting]

Sucking off big brother!Fyodor

Warnings: Incest, this is written terribly, toxic!Fyodor, fem reader

Characters: Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Translations: малышка = little girl

A/N: idk I have so many prompts I'm supposed to be writing and want to be writing but I just don't jave the energy I'm hoping this will wet my appetite or wtv

You lay lazily on the bed half asleep, It was mid July, and the heat was making you drowsy. You were supposed to be reading due to your brothets orders, but gave up & into your fatigue, resting on your bed in your day clothes, not even bothering to change. You were suddenly startled awake by a scoff and Fyodor speaking. "Clean up this room, малышка. It's disgusting in here."

His voice was degrading and he stared down at you with a glare. Your room wasn't even that bad! Just some clothes lying around, but to be fair.. he did own the house. "I don't wanna..." You groan, your voice was raspy. Your eyes flutter open to Fyodor standing directly above you, his hand resting on your bed frame.

"You don't have a choice, малышка." Fyodor smirked, knowing how much you hated being called that. It made you feel small, and weak, but no matter how much you told him you hated it, he kept going. "Clean up now, or I will make you regret it."

"Make me regret it if you're so tough, then." You grin, sitting up and crossing your legs, placing your elbow on your knee and your cheek in the palm of your hand. "If you don't clean this room within the hour, you'll be doing something much more unpleasant."

His eyes narrowed and you grin. "Awh, tell me, exactly what will I be doing?" You'd always had an attraction towards him, and he's known. You'd expect him to be disgusted by it, but.. "You'll be sucking my cock until I'm satisfied, малышка." He said casually, as if it were nothing. "And trust me, I won't be gentle about it."

Your stomach flutters, and despite the disgust and fear you felt.. you couldn't help the arousal that dripped from your hole. You needed to appear confident, and unbothered. You hated Fyodor seeing you as weak. "Aw, well maybe I'd prefer that." You grin, dropping to your knees in front of him.

Fyodor raised an eyebrow, surprised by your sudden change in attitude. He stepped closer, allowing you access to his pants. As you undid his belt and pulled down his pants, revealing his hard cock, he couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal. He grabbed your hair, guiding her head towards his member.

All you could do was giggle, giving a tiny little kitten lick to the tip of his dick, dragging out a hitched breath from him. You do nothing more for a minute, only kissing and licking the tip, before he grew impatient.

He huffs, before he yanks your head back by her hair, forcing you to take him in. You gagged as he filled your mouth, the pain causing small tears to well up in your eyes that you immediately blink away. He began thrusting his hips, fucking your mouth roughly, enjoying the sensation of the warm wetness of your mouth enveloping him.

You moaned onto his dick, licking a fat strip up the bottom of his shaft as he face fucked you, letting the tears fall only because you knew how much he loved reducing you to a crying mess.

"Ah.. you're so good at this, myshka. Keep going, go on." He groans, drawing your attention up to him, he loved how pathetic you looked down on the floor, tears falling from your eyes, ruining your mascara. As his climax neared, you felt his thrusts get sloppier and harder till his hot cum filled your mouth.

He pulls out, tapping your mouth so you stick your tongue out. Proof you swallowed, of course. "Good girl.." he drawls out, looking at you with that sadistic smile he always has. "Now, I guess I should repay the favor now, hm?" He smiles, crouching down in front of you.

[ozzgin]

Girl I love Daitou but I'm ngl I need more of Yazuya😭 if you can, can you write headcanons about him please? I'd appreciate it thank you <3

Yandere!Yakuza x Reader Headcanons

Ultimate dating guide and palate cleanser featuring the gangster boys (Kazuya and Daitou). For those that have been left hanging for proper romance.

Content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

Tags: @swagbucksjester @lucienbarkbark @moonieper @nu-vino @vee-love @tamaki-simp @pinkazelma

[Yakuza Masterlist]

Kazuya

Kazuya was raised in a brothel, surrounded by women, so he is much more knowledgeable than the average man when it comes to feminine matters. Similar to someone who grew up having sisters, you can talk to him about anything and everything and not only will he be empathetic towards your problems, but he might offer tips and tricks you didn’t even know about. Not too shocking when he’s already heard multiple variations of whatever is bothering you.

The downside to his upbringing is that intercourse has always felt terribly transactional to him. He has a hard time associating it with intimate relationships. He will flirt a lot with you, but despite all the sexual innuendos, he won’t actually do anything until later in the relationship. He struggles with the irrational worry that sex will somehow taint the quality of your bond, making it feel cheap. Dating you has helped him realize that such things can be done out of love as well.

He is extremely affectionate and well mannered when dealing with you. Which may sometimes cause you to forget there’s a reason him and Daitou are good friends. While he isn’t as ill-tempered as his younger self, it doesn’t take much to anger him still. It’s a rare occurrence for you to witness it, but when he has it out for someone, he nearly matches Daitou in ruthlessness. He's very prideful and protective and will not hesitate to crush whoever challenges him or messes with you.

If you have a group of (girl)friends, you can confidently bring him with you with the only risk being that he’ll steal your spotlight. He can charismatically slide his way into any kind of conversation and you can hardly believe that this is the same man cracking gross jokes over his latest murder to his fellow criminal buddies. You might consider him a social chameleon, having no trouble adapting to any environment.

Smokes like a chimney and you have to slap the cigarette out of his hand sometimes because he’ll just light one up anywhere (including your bedroom).

Now this one is for the ones that are into it: God forbid you accidentally call him Daddy because he’ll ride that high until the end of time. He loves the idea and will tease about it with every opportunity. “Terrible weather today. Should Daddy drive you to work instead?”, or “Is that any way to talk to Daddy?” for when you’re out in public.

Daitou

One neat detail about being with Daitou is that you get to see a lot of things you took for granted in a new light. Whatever you assumed was a common experience for everyone, like having a picnic or going to the amusement park, is utterly foreign to him. He was raised by the Yakuza and barely interacted with anyone before meeting Kazuya; civilian past times were never presented to him. So you get to witness his shocked and delighted expression as he tries all these things with you.

Thankfully you don’t have to worry about teaching him the…intimate aspects of a relationship. Kazuya has that covered. And Daitou seems to be a rather fast learner, because he’s incredibly gentle and careful with you. Part of it is due to his own fear of messing it up. He’s only ever been good at breaking and killing people. Despite that, he loves you so much. He has to be the best boyfriend for your sake. Surely these hands of his can do more than just damage.

He might actually be a little too eager to learn the ropes. More than once you’ve walked in on him reading a graphic manga and nearly choked, mumbling an apology for interrupting his…activity. He’ll look at you with a confused expression, completely unbothered and wondering why you’re so embarrassed. He was flipping through the pages for ideas, given he’s never had any kind of experience himself. Ah. That explains the random kinky gestures he’s started doing without shame or doubt. You’ll have to do some tweaking in the near future.

This may come as a surprise, but Daitou is exceptionally good at household chores like cleaning and cooking. Registering with the Yakuza involves a mandatory apprenticeship of several years where you do menial tasks for your higher ups. Additionally, the time he served in jail has left him with a lot of discipline and organization. Somewhere between adorable and comical is how you’d describe the sight of him kneeling on the floor and carefully folding the kitchen towels while waiting for the stew to simmer.

Daitou isn’t exactly what you’d traditionally call jealous. His only frame of reference is Boss, thus he will treat you with the same kind of loyalty and dedication. You wouldn’t expect a mere nobody to walk up to the Head of the Family, so anyone approaching you will, similarly, be violently kept away until their intentions are clear. You are his most prized possession, after all. He’d do anything for you.

[its-vannah]

Question...? | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, to the point that there's another authors note at the end. Love y'all! Enjoy!

Warnings: Arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity, use of the words "whore" and "prostitute", unhappy bethrothal, angst, fluff

Midnights Masterlist

Before arriving at Dragonstone, your sister took you aside and sat you down in your chambers, smoothing out the front of your dress as if you were still a child in need of constant care.

Taking a deep breath, she sat beside you, placing a hand on your cheek, "My Y/N..."

A small, timid smile appeared on your face. But you wouldn't meet her eyes. You couldn't. A piece of you felt betrayed by what she had done just days prior. Giving your hand away without a word.

By the way

"Before you leave for Dragonstone, there's some things I need to share with you," She explained, "Some things you may not want to hear, but should."

You nodded halfheartedly, "Yes, Aurely?"

Have to say

"The prince will expect certain things from and of you. Things you may not be prepared for."

Shaking your head, you smiled at her, laying your hand atop of hers, "Sister, mother has already been over this. The ceremony, what happens after the ceremony... How fast I need to be with child. I know."

I just may like some explanations

Releasing a shaky breath, your sister shook her head, "No, Y/N, other things. Things mother wouldn't dare share with you."

Raising a brow, your smile faltered, "Is it something bad?"

"It's not good."

You urged her to continue, "Go on."

"It's common for men to take on other women in addition to their wives. Whores, as they're called. They could be noble women, servants, commoners, even prostitutes. Even your closest friends."

Your shoulders fell, "He could be different, Aurely."

She shook her head, "Most men aren't."

"But what about Robert? He treats you well."

She laughed, "He treats his whores better."

Your eyes went wide, "I'm sorry, Aurely, I didn't know."

Fuckin' politics and gender roles

"Everyone knows, they just don't discuss it. Because it's not meant to be discussed. I wish someone had warned me before I was wed, but they didn't. So I'm telling you now. Keep your head up and mouth shut."

"You can't possibly expect me to do that."

Staring into your eyes, she gripped your shoulder, "You will. For the sake of your marriage, you will."

"It isn't much of a marriage without loyalty and trust. How am I supposed to trust my husband when he's sneaking off every night?"

"You're not."

-------------------------------

Your meeting with Prince Jacaerys had gone as expected. Awkwardly.

After introducing yourselves, you took a quiet walk through the garden, the two of you talking about the weather and your families. Nothing terribly personal. Nothing a man would ask his fiance, and nothing a woman would ask hers.

Good girl, sad boy

You couldn't get a good read on him. He looked sad, but he had a level of confidence you couldn't match. He was sure of himself, and it showed.

-------------------------------

That night, a ball was planned in honor of your engagement. After spending hours getting ready, your mother making sure everything was in place, the doors into the great hall opened.

Guests piled in, lord's and ladies, nobility, and knights.

Not long after, you made your entrance, a gentle smile on your face as you moved to sit beside Jacaerys at the long dining table.

She was on your mind

He nodded kindly to you, and for a split second, you thought he was coming around. But the longer the dinner went on, the more you realized that his attention wasn't on you, but the woman at the end of the table.

It was one drink after another

She was dressed in red, the color of blood, and her long dark hair cascaded down her back. She was beautiful. And whenever he caught her eye, he bowed his head and looked away, draining his glass of wine.

With some dickhead guy

Even when the two of you were supposed to be dancing, solely focused on one another, his eyes were glued to her. But she wasn't even looking his way. She was dancing with another. And when she did return his gaze, regret was plastered on her face.

There was something you were missing that had happened between the two of them, but you didn't know what. And you were hesitant to ask. But you had always been curious, and it always got the best of you.

It was only when he stopped dancing all together for a moment that he realized you had followed his gaze. And your heart broke.

Fuckin' situations, circumstances

Pulling away, you excused yourself and quickly exited the hall, ignoring the stares of the people you passed on your way out. This wasn't about them. They weren't a part of this marriage.

Making your way to your guest chambers, you hastily opened the door, closing it softly behind you. You had heard the sounds of slamming doors your whole life—you refused to stop that low.

Just barely yourself together, you could hardly breathe. Struggling to unlace your dress, you spent a few minutes unraveling the string until it hung loosely over your body.

Slipping it off, you were in the middle of untying your corset when you heard a soft tapping at your door.

Hesitant to open it, you inched towards the door, slowly twisting and pulling the handle open to peer out the door.

Standing before you was Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. A look of sadness on his face as he gazed down at you through his lashes, "Lady Y/N, I've come to apologize. May I come in?

"I'm not sure that's appropriate. There'd be talk."

"We're to be wed, there'll be talk regardless."

Accepting his words, you pulled the door open, stepping to the side.

Still standing in your half fastened corset and underdress, you felt bare before him. But according to your mother and sister, he'd see you like this soon enough. So you didn't bother covering up.

"I'm sorry for my actions, my Lady. It was wrong of me to look elsewhere. My attentions should have been solely on you. And from this day on, they will."

You could tell he was sincere, but you had questions. Questions you didn't want to go unanswered.

Can I ask you a question?

"May I ask you something, Prince Jacaerys?"

He nodded, "Please, call me Jace."

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, you pat the spot beside you, "Come, sit."

"I'm not sure this is appropriate."

You raised a brow, "You're already in my chambers unchaperoned, and I am hardly clothed. I think we're past the point of what is and isn't appropriate."

Accepting the truth, he sat beside you, "What would you like to know?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

He shook his head, "I can't answer that."

It's just a question

"But you can. And you will if you wish to earn my respect."

If Aurely could see you know, she'd have your head. But she wasn't here, and neither was your mother.

After a long pause, he nodded, "Yes."

"With the girl—at the ball?"

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise

His head hung in defeat, "Yes."

You shook your head in response, "What's her name?"

Jace's eyes sprung open, "You don't plan on harming her, do you?"

I just may like to have a conversation

"No, Jace, I don't. I just wish to know more about you. You may never love me, and I you, but I want to know what love feels like. Even if I'll never have it."

"Her name is Sara Snow," He said, "She married into a wealthy family. I met her in the gardens of Driftmark."

"Tell me about her."

He glanced over at you, "This doesn't upset you?"

"We're past that point, Jace."

He sighed, "She was beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed about her. Her beauty. She may not have come from a high family, but she was graceful. Around others, at least. She was... Passionate. Born from fire, I used to tell her. She wouldn't take no for an answer."

"How long were you with her?"

"Three years. Whenever I had the chance to be with her, I was. I couldn't stay away. It's like she grabbed me and didn't let go. And I didn't want her to."

You nodded, "When was the last time you were with her?"

Did you realize out of time?

"A day before I found out about our betrothal. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was unloyal to you."

Miscommunications and I

So your sister had been wrong. About the physical aspect, at least. Emotionally, his heart still yearned for her.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

"How did she take it?"

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh

He left out a breathy laugh, but he didn't find what he was about to say funny, "She couldn't have cared less. She was wed two days later. I hadn't known she was betrothed."

Do you wish you could still touch her?

"Do you miss her?"

And you're not sure and I don't know

"Yes. No. I think so. Yes. It hurts like hell. But I can't do anything about it. I'm betrothed, she's married. And I honor myself with being loyal."

"I'm sorry, Jacaerys," You said, returning to formalities, "I'm sorry that I'm not Sara Snow."

We had one thing going on

He shook his head, "I'm glad you're not like her."

"In what way?"

I swear that it was something

He sighed, "You're sincere about what you say. You care. And that's easily noticed. It's what will make you a good Queen."

"Thank you, my prince."

The two of you were silent for a moment, and then he turned to you, "It will take time, Y/N, but I don't think I'll harbor love for Sara forever. I think, given time, I will grow to love you not only as a wife, but as a friend. But I need your patience. I'm..."

"Healing?" You finished, finally meeting his eyes.

A sigh of relief washed over him, "My thoughts exactly."

Rising from the bed, he extended a hand to you, "Shall we return to the ball?"

You looked down at your clothes, "I'm not sure it's acceptable to go back as I am."

"I could help you, if you'd like."

"Are you sure?"

Jace picked your gown up off the floor, placing it on the side of the bed, "Certain."

Then what did you do?

He carefully laced up your corset, his fingers gliding a long the ribbons as he criss crossed them, tying it at the bottom.

Turning you to face him, he slipped your gown back over your head, pulling your arms through one at a time before smoothing it down over you.

"Beautiful."

But one thing after another

Your heart fluttered at his comment, but you calmed your nerves, reminding yourself of his words: this will take time.

A color I have searched for since

Gazing up at his brown eyes, his hands stayed at your waist for a moment

Painted all my nights

Your mother had always told you that she found a sense of comfort in deep brown eyes, and until now, you hadn't understood why. But it all made sense now. That color was everything to you from that point on. Because it was his.

-------------------------------

The day of your wedding came, and although there was still a ways to go, you and Jace had come far in your friendship.

'Cause I don't remember who I was before you

Instead of seeking other friends to speak to about everyday topics, you sought out one another, eagerly filling each other in on what happened throughout your days with a smile. Now you were working on building your relationship with each other, which neither of you feared anymore.

So now, as you stood with your finger intertwined, finshing your vows, you accepted your future with Jace gladly.

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

He leaned into kiss you, and you met him halfway, softening in his embrace.

But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too?

The only thing that broke you apart was the eruption of clapping from your guests, who were smiling and raising their glasses to the new couple, the future King and Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Does it feel like everything's just like second best after that meteor strike?

From that point on, you were Jace's sole focus. To him, everything else came after you and your happiness.

(I remember)

Years later, you still remembered what he told you that night.

But tonight

Under the night sky, he looked at you and, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear, smiled, saying, "I think it's happening."

"What is?" You questioned, turning to face him.

Got swept away in the gray

"I'm falling in love with you," He said, "I guess it happened faster than I had planned."

"That's the thing about love, Jace. You can't plan it."

He nodded and, with a smile, leaned into your embrace. Jace had fallen for you, and you for him. That was something that could never be taken away.

That you saw that night

After breaking away, you gazed up at him, "And Jace? I'm falling in love with you, too."

-------------------------------

A/N: In so many books, movies, and shows these days, love is shown as something that happens in an instant. Often times, we expect for love to happen at the snap of a finger. But not all love is instant. In this fic, you and Jace fall for each other slowly, and are still actively falling for each other by the end. As much as I love fast love tropes, it's important to remember that sometimes, the things that take the longest wind up being the best.

Thank you all for your support in this series. It means the world to me to read your comments and see how much y'all are enjoying it. Stay safe and love y'all!

[lenislenii]

𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

Synopsis: He teaches you how to ride a horse! Warning: nothingg! Author's Note: Boothill is so fun to write AAAAA i love him so much, boothill wanters shall be boothill havers!! by the way this was written by an equestrian so i like got a bit of inspiration on my life style LMAO

Boothill x gn!reader

"I think those plastic ponies from theme parks are more your style, darlin'" Boothill said while guiding the horse around the paddock, truth to be said, you were terrible at this, like how did he do it? while galloping? and shotting? you would never understand how talented this man can be.

"Oh shut up i am not that bad" You said, keeping your hands on the reins and trying yout best to not fall out of the animal who was at the lowest speed ever "Not that bad?" Boothill teased arching a brow "Then, by all means, show me your flawless equestrian skills Y/N" His grin widened giving you an amused look.

"I really hope this horse kicks you" that made boothill chuckle and roll his eyes "watch it Y/N" he warned playfully "You might just get what you wish for." He gave you a light tap on your hip "Now, focus on maintainin' your balance and stop wavin' your legs around like a flag" he said playfully.

"My legs do not look like a flag" you rolled your eyes, Boothill chuckled at your retort, his gaze shifting to observe the way your limbs flailed without proper control "You do realize that flailing your legs is part of the reason for all this wobblin', right?" he pointed out, his tone carrying a note of playful amusement "What do you mean by flailing my legs? my position is amazing" you said proudly.

Boothill arched a skeptical brow, his red pupils narrowing with an amused glint "Is that so? Well, let's check your 'amazing' position, shall we? For starters, your knees should be tight against the horse's body. That way, you'll have better control" he explained, making a subtle gesture indicating the way you should adjust your seating.

For once you actually listened to his explanation adjusting your position on the saddle and trying to maintain a better control, "That's much better, I reckon" he commented, his tone approving "You see? A little guidance can go a long way." you rolled your eyes at that, he noticed it and let out a chuckle "Now, Start with walking your horse in a circle, just to warm up," he instructed with a confident nod.

you nodded and tried to get the horse to walk again, you managed to get your horse to walk once again, Boothill stood by your side, offering support and guidance "You're doin' good!" he praised, his grin widening "Just keep holdin' the reins gently and move 'em slightly to guide your horse" you nodded and used the reins to guide the horse, Boothill observed your progress with a keen eye. His expression held a mix of pride and amusement as he acknowledged your improvement "See? You're gettin' the hang of it Y/N" he encouraged, his voice tinged with satisfaction "Keep it up, and soon you'll be gallopin' through the plains like a pro." you scoffed with a chuckle "i could never be as good as you, you go galloping and shooting stuff"

"Ah, but that's because I've had years of practice and honed my skills" he explained with a cocky grin. "And trust me, you might just surprise yourself with how fast you progress once you practice enough, just keep practicin', and you'll be gallopin' soon enough," he encouraged.

"fine i guess you are not that bad at giving motivation after all" you said with a chuckle, boothill's smirk widened into a pleased grin as you acknowledged his motivational skills "Looks like I'm not just a pretty face," he teased, his tone playfully boastful "I've got a knack for boostin' the ol' spirits." you scoffed "did you just call me old?"

"Ah, don't mind that, darlin'. Everyone's a bit of an 'ol' soul at heart," he explained, his tone carrying a playful undertone, he turned his gaze to the horizon once more, admiring the landscape before them "Besides, 'old' aint all that bad, is it? It means experiencin' life, learnin' a thing or two. And you know what they say: with age comes wisdom" you chuckle at those words "wow grandpa getting a bit to relatable over there" Boothill chuckled at your teasing, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes "Ah, just wait, darlin'. Someday you'll find yourself sayin' the same things to the youngsters. Life has a way of playin' its little tricks, turnin' the tables on ya," you stopped the horse and looked at thim.

"That would be true if you werent just 1 year older than me" Boothill's smirk widened slightly as he tilted his head, acknowledging your remark "Aye, you caught me there, Y/N, But let's be honest, a year in the grand scheme is nothin'! Besides, I'm just sharin' some of life's lessons, Wisdom doesn't discriminate based on age." He shrugged playfully, a hint of confidence lingering in his demeanor.

"But hey, if you prefer the ol' 'grandpa' title, by all means, I can embrace it." you chuckle "Alright newton help me get off of the horse before you start yapping about life mistakes or something" He walked over to your horse and held out his hand. "As you wish, missy. Here, let me help you down," he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Once you safely dismounted, Boothill took a moment to pat the horse's neck affectionately before turning to you, you turned your attention to him s well "i'm starving, wanna go with me to the coffee shop nearby?" you asked, Boothill's grin widened as you changed the subject "Sure thing, Y/N! I could use a cup of coffee" he commented giving the horse for the caretaker to take, as you made your way towards the nearby coffee shop, Boothill walked beside you, his eyes scanning the surroundings "I hear they've got a new blueberry muffin. Can't promise I won't devour the whole thing, though," he chuckled, his gaze returning to you with a playful wink.

Fine you admit this man is fine as hell, you wouldn't mind starting riding lessons just to be with him.

repost are appreciated, please don't translate my work without permission ♡

[tojivu]

Helloo!! I've came across ur fics a few times and it never fail to makes me smile, and I have an idea from scrolling on tiktok for a whole week, I'm not sure if ur reqs are still open... But may I request the orange peel theory with jjk men n boys? Your pick on who u want to write in that scenario! If ur req is close pls ignore this! Thank you and I hope you have an amazing day!

the things i do for you ! ⋆ jjk men

the orange peel theory ˖ gojo, geto, toji, nanami.

an. honestly i'm still kind of ??? on what exactly is the orange peel theory but i'm assuming it's just acts of service? im so sorry if its wrong LOL pls i don't keep up with tiktok......

an ii. ok i did end up getting the prompt wrong but i hope yall like this anyway..

cw. sfw. f!reader. not proofread. acts of service.

playing. lovesong by beabadoobee.

GOJO SATORU is a familiar face at the local coffee shop down the block — and no, it's not because he keeps raiding their cheesecake displays. he much prefers the ones across the street; he only comes by this particular one to pick up your favourite coffee.

"toru, could you get something for me at the coffee place?"

"yeah, i can," he hums. "what do you need, baby?"

it's actually only a 5 minute walk, and you never told satoru your order. it was too specific that you were sure he would forget; so you just told him to buy an iced latte and be quick with it. after all, you could never go wrong with such a basic drink.

"'s okay, baby," he presses a quick kiss to your cheek, confident he would not come back home with a boring latte. "i'll get you something even better."

"please don't. your taste in coffee is terrible — no, forget it, i can just go by myself later." you groan, wriggling around in the sheets of your bed to find that warm spot in the blankets; satoru was up since 6am, and you've only just opened your eyes.

"oh, no need for that," your boyfriend smirks: almost too creepily. "i have great taste! both in coffee and women—"

you smack his arm, using your hands to gesture a shoo-ing motion. you weren't conscious enough to tolerate satoru's gross flirtations. his eyebrows furrow and lips pout, quickly planting another kiss on your forehead before standing up. he scrambles through the desk drawer for his sunglasses — eventually finding them and leaving the house.

little did you know that your boyfriend has your order memorised — it was a small order, not that difficult to remember. satoru didn't think it was necessary to make you get up and grab it yourself; he had legs, and he liked the fresh air, too. plus, he knows he'll get to see you smile first thing when you wake up; perhaps you might give him one of those kisses on the forehead that he loves so much.

you thought he would have called you lazy for not getting up — he would be offended you think so little of him if you admitted that. satoru sees your sleepy face, hears your peaceful snores and he thinks he would rather die by impalement than wake you.

when satoru returns, you're still tucked into bed and fast asleep. he leaves the coffee on the nightstand before kneeling down and leaving the third kiss of the day, right on your lips — and it's then that he realises that you have him so in love that he's willing to spend $8.95 every morning for the rest of his life on overpriced coffee.

────────────────────────

GETO SUGURU holds the most romantic date nights, but there's only one thing you don't particularly enjoy — that being there's always so much walking involved.

yes, you think the opportunity to just take a breath and link pinkies with suguru is nice; it's just that your shoes tend to undo themselves no matter how many bunny ears you tie. your laces have been through war — the plastic aglets have been long lost and the loose string is practically just that. they're starting to pull apart from eachother that you consider just wearing heels for the next few dates until you find better ones.

"we just need to turn the corner—"

suguru's words are cut off by your sighs. you look down at your shoelaces and they are once again untied; the pout on your lips make his curve upward, after he lets out a sigh of his own.

"i really need to get you new shoes," suguru mutters. "they've definitely been through it."

"can you tie them for me?"

it's a simple request that gets suguru on one knee, dress pants stained by the concrete dust, as you patiently wait for him to finish tying the knots he's so skilled at.

"the ones you tie never come out."

"that's a lie," suguru says, his voice a little muffled with the distance between your heads. his rough fingers miss the loop and he opts to restart the knot. "i tied them before we left the house, and look at them now."

your face flushes at that. he sees through your lie like glass — you were always so easy to read.

"i just like the way you tie them, sugu. plus, they only untied because i redid them myself."

"yeah, i think it's because i don't tie them like a preschooler," suguru teases — he ties the knot tightly and stands up. "you should learn how to tie them the right way, baby."

you shake your head, and he raises an eyebrow at your reaction. his left pinky reaches for yours again, before you two start to walk once more.

"why do i need to learn if i have you?"

there's silence for a bit, nothing but cars honking and chattering from the people enjoying the nightlife just as you were — you almost retract your statement when suguru looks at you expectantly.

"is that so?" suguru chuckles at your response. "i guess you're right."

you giggle at his seemingly sarcastic reply — but you don't see the way he smiles, the way the tips of his ears burn, nor do you hear the loud thumping of his heart that tell he is being serious.

────────────────────────

TOJI FUSHIGURO doesn't know what small is.

well, everything about him is big — his body, his mind, his bank account, his heart.

it took you awhile to figure that last one out, though. toji always does the big things. the extravagant, flaunting, costly things. it's only small to him, and it often takes you a lot of convincing to get him to not spend hefty amounts of cash on you.

he feels it's necessary, to take care of his sweet girl like any man should — toji knows nobody can pamper you as well as he does, so he makes sure his money is spent wisely in making you feel safe and content.

you don't know how to tell him that there's no need for all of it, that you just want him to be with you — it's only until one day when you're coughing and sneezing in bed that you have to, after toji's constant pestering about hiring a family doctor.

"tch, baby," toji's voice echoes throughout the spacious bedroom. "shit—you're burning up."

"i'm fine," your voice is hoarse, nose crinkling at the incoming sneeze. "achoo!—"

he frowns, and the scar on his lip shifts downward. he sits on the edge of the bed, thick fingers moving stray hairs away from your face. "told ya we shouldn't have gone last night."

you shake your head. "it was your friend's birthday."

"does it matter, [name]?" he sounds stern. he only ever acts strict with you when he's really worried. "y'were already falling sick yesterday."

you reach for the box of tissues, fingers trying to reach inside the packaging for another piece, but you seem to have used all of them up — the 3rd time today.

"can you stay home, toji?"

it's one simple request that has him nodding. if you didn't mention it, he thinks he would've forgotten all about work — toji was much too worried to let you stay home alone, while a random doctor he hires on the day of attends to you. he much rather take care of you himself.

"i think i'll fuckin' have to," toji answers, frown plastered on his face out of pure worry; he has no idea how happy his reply makes you — you were more than comfortable with the idea of him taking care of you. "'m too worried to let you be alone."

"thank you, toji," you smile up at him and he feels his face burn up, so much that he thinks he feels hotter than you; "you always take such good care of me."

he always does. there was no doubt about it.

it's then that toji fushiguro stands up, his feet quick in making it's way to the bathroom to prepare a cold towel to plaster on top of your forehead. his actions are quick, wanting to make you feel better as soon as possible; your pale lips and tired eyes worried him more than he'd like to admit.

he ends up cooking the worst chicken noodle soup ever, but you chug it down with a grateful smile and a kiss to toji's cheek.

"fuck," he mumbles, sounding almost annoyed. "think i'm gonna get a fever now, too."

the smirk on his face tells you everything, though — at least now he knows money can't buy this.

────────────────────────

NANAMI KENTO is the type of man to do as you please, whenever you please, even if it's something you didn't even ask for.

he loves to see the smile on your face, the way your eyes sparkle when he agrees to help you with something just because you want him to — he can never get sick of the way your voice thanks him.

this is especially true in times of emergency.

it's a friday night and you're having dinner with nanami, legs crossed underneath the marbled tabletop — your silk emerald green dress flows perfectly, hugs your body just right; you think you did a good job picking it out today.

nanami had a range of activities planned out for tonight. it was your anniversary — dinner, then a film festival, then whatever surprise he kept a secret after.

you didn't try to snoop this time, genuinely thrilled to have such a special night with your lover; you were always one to love surprises, especially the ones from nanami.

beautiful, slow tempo jazz plays in the italian restaurant — you feel like you're from a different time, enjoying such authentic food.

"ken," you smile. "you should try some of this."

he doesn't respond for a bit. he's been looking at you with dreamy eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip; it's not until you giggle that he snaps out of whatever state he was just in.

"sorry, darling," nanami clears his throat. "you just look absolutely breathtaking tonight."

you physically feel the blood rush to your cheeks, too fast that it's almost embarrassing: kento truly knew how to fluster you.

you spin the fork in your hand clockwise, picking up a ball of pasta. "do i not look breathtaking every night?"

nanami chuckles, fingers controlling the knife sawing away at the steak that sits ready on his plate. "stop teasing. you know i think you're beautiful every second—"

plop.

your eyes widen, feeling a damp spot on your thigh. your fork suddenly feels lighter, and your eyes dart down to your dress that now has a patch of spaghetti sauce.

your eyes forcefully close shut in embarrassment, fingers rubbing your temples as you sigh.

"shit," you curse under your breath. "i'm sorry, kento."

he smiles, shaking his head. "what are you apologising for? you didn't drop it on purpose."

nanami sees the frown that drags your smile away, and he feels his heart sink. he knows you really loved that dress — and so he asks you to just enjoy your meal and that he'll make something work.

it's then that his plan derails, just a little. you two are running late to the film festival, but he couldn't think of any better solution.

"wait a little, okay?"

nanami parks the car, and his feet quickly lead him out and into the mall for a little over 10 minutes — when he returns, it's with a black bag with gold printed letters.

oddly familiar, you think.

he steps into the driver's seat, shuts the door and opens the bag: it's the same dress you're wearing, just in a different colour — blue.

nevertheless, you can't help the smile that creeps up on your face. "ken.. you really didn't—"

"yes, i had to." he interrupts. "i know it's not green, but i hope it's okay."

"thank you, love." you say, voice too sweet that nanami remembers all the reasons he does these things for you — he thinks he'll never get tired of it.

020224 — happpyy february ! also i think nanami's one is a little ermm but we rock we roll life moves on yolo :( i got lazy towards the end but i tried Okay

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

can i just say that i am OBSESSED with your Alfie series. literally cannot get enough of it. Also!! Was wondering if you could write a fluff piece were reader gets injured and alfie comes to her rescuee? Your writing is so good <3

Hi my love! This ask was so so sweet! I am so glad you like the series, it was so much fun to share it with you guys, I know I tell y'all all the time but it's true! My heart is just so full I can't help it! And of course I can write some fluff! You know I love it hehe. I'm sorry this took a while but I hope you like it! This was actually inspired by my Thanksgiving fiasco this past year lmao. I was in charge of the turkey, mac and cheese, dessert, and potatoes. My little brother was my sous chef and I completely cut my thumb open and my brother almost passed out lmao. Anyway, sending all my love to you! - Mo

Ouch

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader, fluff, Warnings: injury, mentions of blood

There is something so soothing about the kitchen. When the world is so chaotic and cold and uncertain, the kitchen is a haven. Here it’s safe and warm and systematic. The chops and bubbling of the stove are so rhythmic, any harshness of the day just falling off your shoulders in waves. Because here you could understand and set the temperature. Here you could control the outcome and be free. Even if you were trying something new, you could be confident in the knowledge that it would always have a good outcome. It was your favorite part of the day, just cooking with Alfie. You on one side with Alfie on the opposite, working separately to jointly create beautiful.

The only problem that came with cooking, was that it was a little too peaceful. You became too relaxed. And as Alfie was apt to remind you, it wasn’t good to be too relaxed around knives and hot stoves. But it was too easy. The steady hum of the fire and boiling. The pattern you’ve gone through many a time. Your body would take over like a dance from your childhood. Your hands knew what they were doing. Your mind could take a break. And she would wander. Things to be completed in the office tomorrow. That new quilt you were making for your mother. Alfie needing a haircut.

Stir.

I need to make time for that book this weekend

Pour.

Alfie looked so handsome today if it weren’t for that awful stain on his shirt

Stir

Mama and Papa asked us to come for Shabbat this week. I need to tell Alfie.

Chop

We should go to the park this week

Chop

I wonder if we can visit Rabbi Reuben as well

Chop

Alfie’s birthday is also coming up

Chop

I’m so excited for his birthday surprise

Slice

“AH!!! Oh God ah!!”

A long and deep line blossoms on your palm. Far too entrenched in your mind, you were completely missing how the knife was getting closer and closer to your hand. You quickly grab a nearby dish towel, tightly wrapping your hand to catch the trickle dripping to the wood on the floor. Alfie is quick to you though, loudly dropping the cutlery and bowl he was holding. "Shit! Sweet heart you alright? What d'ya do to yourself?"

"Nothing nothing Alfie darling! Just a little scrape I'm sorry!"

Alfie peered at the slowly soaking dishtowel and raised his thick blonde brows at you. Mustache quirking, indicating that once again, you are a terrible liar. Gently but without holding room for argument he unraveled your makeshift bandage as you winced. His mouth furrowed and grumbled, "Ah shit treacle. This is why I always tell you right? You can't be all day dreaming when you're working in here! You insist on not letting me help ya, and then there you go fucking filleting yourself!"

Cool tears start trickling down. It burned with the introduction of the air and the embarrasment of getting a nasty cut. Alfie sighed, wiping your tears with one hand has he cradled your injury in the other. If there was one thing he hated most in the world, it was seeing you cry. "Aw my dove, no tears yeah? Not too bad ain't it? Why I don't even think it'll need a stitch I wager. Just a little alcohol on it and a bandage and you'll be right as rain. C'mon my angel, let's get you better aye? Dinner can wait a few minutes."

Despite having a terrible temper and being completely and utterly impatient... Alfie Solomons was an incredibly gentle and tender nurse. Stern. Always stern. And teasing. And scolding. But gentle above all else. You winced and shed a small tear when Alfie poured the clear and horrendous smelling alcohol on your wound. He tutted and kissed your temple all the while telling you, "Maybe this'll teach you eh? Nothing like a war would to make you more smart about your surroundings."

You thanked your lucky stars you didn't need a stitch at all. Despite the blood it was really a shallow cut. Alfie wrapped your hand skillfully. Pressing a kiss right over the bandage as the final salve. As you whispered a chaste thank you, Alfie pulled you into his chest saying, "Now listen my dove. I don't like to baby you. You are a grown woman and I'm not one to tell woman how to conduct herself or her affairs. But I get worried about you. Always drifting off somewhere in that pretty head. Not watching yourself. Not wanting help. You have got to let me help you my darling. Yeah?"

You nod, kissing him to assure him that you are ok. He chuckles kissing you back. Pushing you to the dining room chair he teases you further, "Now my dear patient, it is imperative that you sit there and keep that hand elevated. Lots of rest of relaxation yeah?"

"Alfie! I have to finish dinner!"

"No I'm sorry treacle but it is the doctor's orders! Can't have you losing a finger next can we?"

You laugh and argue with him, eventually get him to compromise to allowing you to fill a pitcher with water and set the kettle on. No matter what the others of Camden said, they could never say that he wasn't a good man.