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#and as I wrote this I realized I like writing nonsense
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Sometimes I go back to the stories I’ve written and abandoned and I read it as I contemplate why I dropped it (I always do drop it) because it’s decent enough, and it’s good enough, but then I realize as I read them and thought about them, the same inspiration didn’t reach me. So I close it off, left for good until someday I get the urge to look at them again randomly, or maybe not have internet to do other things, and think, “Why didn’t I finish this?”
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kimmkitsuragi · 1 year
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okay my fave email i recieved is this one:
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she sent this the morning of the exam, we didnt really know each other well but we had worked on a group project 2 years before that. and now i was the only person she knew in the class im pretty sure (it was an elective class). so she sent me this and it was a Terrible week lmao. like it was the week that i slept for 2 hours at most each day (not because of this exam) and anyway this made me laugh so much when i saw it, i immediately sent her my notes jsjsjdjd this is my fave email ever
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astroniii · 29 days
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GOOD GRACES
pairing: Lando Norris x Pop Star Reader
faceclaim: Isabela Merced
masterlist
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2021
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2023
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Liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, oliviarodrigo, and 3,684,937 others
yourusername found a new muse 💋
user1 OMFG FINALLY!
user2 SHE TOOK A YEAR OFF, BUT MOTHER IS BACK TO BREAK RECORDS!
user3 OH SHE’S HERE TO SERVE
user4 I’M SO EXCITED!
user5 no cause FINALLY!
user6 PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE RELEASING MUSIC THIS YEAR!
user7 DON’T MAKE US WAIT ANOTHER YEAR FOR THIS RELEASE!
user8 A NEW MUSE? IS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GETTING A SISTER?
| user9 PLEASE BE ANOTHER GOOD GRACES
| user10 I WANT ANOTHER LOVE IS | EMBARRASSING!
user11 are we finally getting a love song from you!
| user12 OMG I NEVER REALIZED SHE HAS | NEVER WROTE A LOVE SONG! NOT EVEN ABOUT | TOM AND THEY WERE TOGETHER FOR 3 YEARS!
| user13 May not have gotten love songs | from her relationship with Tom, but we | did get please please please and good | graces
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Liked by sabrinacarpenter, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, oliviarodrigo, and 7,263,759 others
yourusername my new album “positions” is out next month! 💋 here is a preview to the album with my new song “bed chem”! Thank you guys for the wait and being patient with me for the last year! I hope you all like the song ❤️
user1 BED CHEM! BED CHEM!
user2 WE GOT A SEX SONG! 🥵
| user3 MORE LIKE A SEX FANTASY SONG!
user4 MAM! MAM! WHO IS THE SONG ABOUT!
user5 “Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?” itches my brain in just the right way!
user6 WHO DO WE KNOW THAT HAS AN ACCENT AND GREEN EYES!
sabrinacarpenter I can’t wait to hear the rest of the album 💕
user7 “COME RIGHT ON ME, I MEAN CAMARADERIE” WHO’S GOT YOU THIS HORNY! 👀
user8 “MANIFEST THAT YOU’RE OVERSIZED” MISS MAM! 😂
user9 YOU’VE BEEN HANGING OUT WITH @/sabrinacarpenter too much
| user10 NONSENSE AND BED CHEM ARE | SISTERS!
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Liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, iambeckyg, and 9,236,682 others
yourusername POSITIONS IS OUT NOW! 💕
user1 WE FINALLY GOT LOVE SONGS FROM HER!
user2 SHE’S HORNY AND IN LOVE
user3 WHO IS THIS MYSTERY MAN THAT HAS YOU WRITING LOVE SONGS! 🕵️
user4 34+35 is the horniest song on the album 🥵
user5 OMG! WE GOT A SPANISH SONG!
user6 ALBUM OF THE YEAR!
user7 THE BOY IS MINE! LIKE BRANDY AND MONICA!
user8 THIS ALBUM IS PERFECTION! 🥰
user9 NO SKIPS ❤️
user10 NOT ONLY DID WE GET A LOVE SONG, BUT WE GOT MORE THAN ONE!
user11 THE QUEEN OF POP
user12 I’ll give you $5 if you tell me who these songs are about!
2024
yourusername posted a story
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Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, alexandrasaintmleux, and 7,486,992 others
yourusername Thank you so much for @/mclaren for having me! 💕 Can’t wait to see the race tomorrow! 🏁
user1 OMG, SHE’S AT THE MIAMI GP!
user2 YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE WAS THERE TODAY AND I DIDN’T MEET HER! 😭
mclaren It was an honor having you! We can’t wait to see you again tomorrow!
user3 MCLAREN? I figured Red Bull or Ferrari would’ve invited her
oscarpiastri It was nice to finally meet you!
| yourusername It was nice meeting you | too! I can’t wait to see the race | tomorrow!
| user4 WHAT DO YOU MEAN FINALLY!
alexandrasaintmleux I can’t believe you were here and I didn’t get to see you!
| yourusername We can meet up tomorrow, | pretty girl!
user5 My two worlds are colliding 🤯
user6 THE PICTURES OF LANDO AND OSCAR
landonorris It was good having you today! I hope you’re ready for the race tomorrow!
| yourusername I was born ready! I better | see you on the podium tomorrow
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Liked by yourusername, lnfour, and 3,126,026 others
landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆
user1 LFG!
user2 CONGRATS! 👏
user3 YOU DESERVE IT LANDO! 🧡🏆
user4 WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THAT KISS! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!
user5 YOU’RE DATING @/yourusername! WHAT THE FUCK!
user6 THE WAY HE RAN TO HER AFTER GETTING OUT OF THE CAR! 😭
yourusername CONGRATULATIONS BABY! I KNEW YOU CAN DO IT! 🧡
user7 LANDO NOWINS WHO! 📢
yourusername I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!
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Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, sabrinacarpenter, alexandrasaintmleux, and 11,232,743 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername I guess the cat’s out of the bag 💕
user1 ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!
user2 WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK! THE HARD LAUNCH!
user3 YOU ARE TELLING ME POSITIONS IS ABOUT LANDO NORRIS!
user4 YOU ARE SO FUCKING CUTE TOGETHER 😭
user5 MOTHER IS IN LOVE ❤️
landonorris God, I love you so fucking much! 🧡
| yourusername I love you too, my race | winner 🧡
user6 SHE WROTE ALL THESE HORNY SONGS ABOUT HIM!
user7 ANOTHER WHITE MAN 😭
alexandrasaintmleux Does this mean I will see you around the paddock more often?
| yourusername of course! I can’t wait to | hang out with you more beautiful!
user8 @/landonorris DON’T FUCK IT UP! I NEED @/yourusername TO WRITE MORE LOVE SONGS!
user9 LANDO NORRIS IS THE CUTE GUY WITH GREEN EYES AND A THICK ACCENT!
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moviecritc · 4 months
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Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕
obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux
warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)
a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33
Remember that requests are open 💕💕
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 145,824 others
yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙
view all comments
user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip
charlesleclerc 💜😍
user2 so dry
user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles
user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101
sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜
user5 IM SO IN LOVE
user5 that i might stop breathing
user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness
user7 GOALS.
user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out
user9 it's giving taylor and joe
user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations
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When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.
Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.
Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.
She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.
Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.
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Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.
Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.
So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.
When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.
yousername just posted!
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liked by yournamehq, alexandrasaintmleux and 583,981 others
yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎
the comments have been restricted
alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙
sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩
gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.
chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.
laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.
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She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.
"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.
"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.
She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.
"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.
Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."
"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."
Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.
"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.
"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.
"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.
"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.
Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.
"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.
"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.
They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.
Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.
As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.
"No," she denied vehemently.
Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.
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Five months later
alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!
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[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]
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serosluv2 · 9 months
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obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)
It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘
a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭
Shoto Todoroki
He fits this trope so well.
He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)
He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.
If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.
He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)
I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:
“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.
Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.
In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.
Hanta Sero
Clawing at my cage for this man.
Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?
He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.
But oh that’s where he is wrong.
When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.
But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:
“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”
“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”
Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.
Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.
Literally ya’ll
He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.
Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.
He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.
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tossawary · 10 months
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When writing fanfiction, there are a lot of unknowns surrounding Mobei-Jun that I answer based on what I think is compelling, funny, and/or contrasts well against SQH | Airplane Bro. (Sometimes, based on what contrasts interestingly and/or hilariously against Luo Binghe or Shen Qingqiu.) The choices I make for MBJ also depend on what suits that particular story.
An interesting question: "What kind of literature does Mobei-Jun like?" He's Airplane Bro's Ideal Man / Dream Guy! It's fun to think about what Mobei-Jun's relationship might be to fiction.
One choice that I've pulled a few times now is having Mobei-Jun be functionally illiterate, mostly because I think that situation is an interesting / amusing contrast to the guy who technically wrote the world into existence. Airplane Bro was cranking out thousands of words per day to eat, selling out his honest passion for literature, and Mobei-Jun can't / doesn't read.
There are lots of different potential reasons for this! Maybe Mobei-Jun is dyslexic. Maybe he desperately needs reading glasses and doesn't realize it. (Yes, maybe half of his glaring is just squinting.) Maybe his education was really bad because his family tried to murder him too many times. Maybe he just doesn't have any interest in fiction or in reading as a hobby in general, because paper / writing is rare in the Demon Realm for a variety of reasons and he's been busy building more relevant skills.
(Airplane Bro is shocked and offended, yes, but mostly because Mobei-Jun somehow successfully hid being unable to read from him for two or more decades. All of those "you read it" and "you write it" orders suddenly make so much sense.)
Another direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" that I've been enjoying lately as a premise is that Mobei-Jun is the sort of person who would have genuinely enjoyed "Proud Immortal Demon Way". But, like, in a weird way. Like, maybe Mobei-Jun isn't there for the women or the power fantasy, but he's fascinated by the cage of dissatisfaction, misery, and cruelty that the protagonist is building around himself using empty pleasures and merciless vengeance. Mobei-Jun is there for the tragedy. Everyone else in the comments section would think that he's a weirdo for different reasons, including Airplane Bro, but Mobei-Jun is (by accident) operating on a level where he sees the vision.
Alternate direction on "Mobei-Jun would like PIDW, actually": maybe he would like it because he actually loves trashy drama and stupid catfights. He's there for the comedy. He grew up in an environment where his father stole his uncle's wife and his own uncle tried to kill him multiple times, after all. In PIDW itself, right-hand man Mobei-Jun somehow successfully suffered years upon years of Luo Binghe's harem nonsense, and maybe Mobei-Jun was having the time of his life watching Sha Hualing start shit in the harem, actually!
Maybe in a Modern AU, Airplane Bro would try to sound intelligent and cultured by talking to his rich boss / boyfriend about classy literature, only to find out that Mobei-Jun basically only watches reality television competitions where people are constantly trying to tear each other's hair out for money. If people aren't screaming in each other's faces over a spilled glass of wine, throwing plates at each other over a stolen boyfriend or a ruined wedding, or backstabbing each other via wardrobe sabotage to get ahead, then Mobei-Jun is bored. Fighting matches or extremely dangerous sports are also fine, though, sure. (Airplane Bro doesn't like any of this stuff. He's a fantasy novel guy. He has no idea how to react to this.)
Another funny direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" is that maybe "Proud Immortal Demon Way" wouldn't actually be weird ENOUGH for Mobei-Jun's tastes. Maybe Mobei-Jun would be like that guy who claims "if I can guess the twist, then it's not suspense - suspense is when I don't know what's going to happen next, period" and reads long-running, amateur, foreign, abstract web-novels that he has to put through an online translator himself. Maybe in a Modern AU with this opinion, Mobei-Jun loyally watches telenovelas and Bollywood soap operas. Airplane Bro comes into the room and says, "Wow, not even any subtitles? You can understand what they're saying?" and Mobei-Jun says sincerely, "No. You have to figure out what's happening without them. This is the intended viewing experience."
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yangscowlick · 1 year
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Because the “shrodinger’s queerbait” nonsense will never go away, indulge me an analogy (and a long post).
wlw ships are the “made from scratch” cake in a world where we only ever expect cake mix from the box.
Say you have a show where, in the first interaction between a male and female character, there is a red box. It could be a Betty Crocker box of cake mix. Because all it takes is just one smile — one wink — one raised eyebrow— and the fans don’t question it. We’re clearly making a cake here. The box is red.
Meanwhile, you have two female characters building their own relationship that have elements that could build to romance. There are eggs in the fridge. A few more episodes, there’s flour in the pantry. Sugar. Baking powder. Queer fans start whispering…we could be making a cake here. Other fans scoff “you will read into anything. They’re just eggs! Everyone has eggs in their fridge!” Maybe so, maybe not. They are written off as discrete ingredients, nothing to see here.
That red box is still sitting in the pantry. Obviously we’re going with that one, and it’s definitely cake mix. That guy and girl stood next to each other again.
The wlw relationship is now full-on batter. It was a cake recipe all along, but it’s not baked yet. The crowd that wrote off every ingredient is now saying the writers are just going to “squander” that box that could be ready-made cake mix or that they’re being “forced” to bake a cake with the very ingredients the writers deliberately bought and put in their pantry.
Now it’s in the oven, the cake is baking. That crowd will still insist it’s forced, or maybe its actually something else, or it’s rushed, or it’s pandering. Whether the writers painstakingly built a pantry to make the cake they truly wanted or they were cultivating good ingredients and realized they had the fixings for a more decadent cake and went there, it doesn’t matter. It’s still a recipe. One that fans who always have to piece together ingredients had hoped for or saw from the get-go, despite being scoffed at and disparaged. Just because that crowd didn’t see (or refused to see) those ingredients as part of a whole, doesn’t make it any less of a recipe.
And wlw fans shouldn’t have to keep writing essays to demonstrate that the wlw “cake” has all the ingredients every cake mix does, or keep pointing out that fans were ready to believe a cake was being baked when they saw a nondescript box, but that they’ll do anything to discredit or doubt the cake from scratch that’s now cooling off on the counter.
It is partly a function of heteronormativity from the audience in immediately seeing romance in any whisper of interaction between m/f characters and passing off all charged interactions between female characters are sisterly or platonic. And it also comes from writers, who are either being cautious so as not to spook corporate overlords or audiences, or who are preserving plausible deniability.
To take the analogy further, box cake mix is fine! It works! It is, practically speaking, what a lot of folks know by default. I thought I was a Duncan Hines girl once myself. Vanilla cake mix has the ingredients measured out, it’s a safe bet, it tastes like cake.
But it doesn’t mean every red box is cake mix. And it doesn’t make the cake that had to be pieced together from scratch due to censorship, caution, time, narrative build-up, what-have-you, any less of a cake.
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tsukimefuku · 5 months
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wardrobe malfunction ❖ nanami kento
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summary: your cursed technique isn't exactly clothing-friendly, and when you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you only had one person you could ask for help.
tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light nanami x reader, cursing, kind of suggestive but not exactly (?), second hand embarrassment is real, this is just pure crack to be honest, is reader lucky or unlucky? i fret, for i do not know, this is barely proofread because i wrote this absolute nonsense on a complete whim, i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it.
wc: 1k
❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events
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You had just finished blowing up a grade 2 curse that lunged at you full-speed. Your chest heaved up and down with tiny droplets of sweat coming down, as you panted inside the abandoned apartment complex. For a while, the adrenaline pumping through your veins made it hard to assess your state, but then, as you began decelerating and looked at your body, you realized something.
“Oh, no. Not again.” 
Considering your innate cursed technique involved casting small bombs of cursed energy, they could blow up through many things, and when you didn’t manage to distance yourself from them before the impact… Well, safe to say that some things were bound to happen.
You pulled your phone ready to call… someone. Anyone, really. But the ancient piece of technology that you failed to replace in these past few weeks wouldn’t let you access your contacts list, providing you solely with your three last dialed numbers — Gojo, Yaga and Nanami.
Your fucking phone. Your damn, fucking phone.
Just thinking about this had you beyond mortified, but it was either this, or never leaving the building again. So you took a deep breath before pressing dial.
***
Nanami found Shoko to take care of some minor injuries on his arm, and as she was finished, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, and saw your name flashing on the screen.
As he answered, you stuttered for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.
“So, Nanami, I need, uh, some assistance.” 
He found that to be odd, considering you knew he was on another mission today, and this was a solo endeavor for you.
“Has something happened?”
“So, you know how my technique works, right?”
That question had the sorcerer feeling somewhat puzzled, given he had seen you use it — and explain it — multiple times already.
“Of course, we've been on missions together, and you have explained it to me more than once.”
You sighed before proceeding. “So, here's the thing, I kind of blew myself up.” 
That quickly got his attention and he tensed up. Shoko had just finished removing her gloves and noticed it.
“Are you injured?” His usually impassive voice had a hint of worry to it.
“No, no. I'm fine. Sometimes this kind of happens, and I'm pretty used to blocking the impact and using RCT if needed.” 
Is it her? Is she okay? She better be, I need her tomorrow, Shoko whispered at Nanami as she walked around and sat on a bench in front of him.
He didn’t notice what she asked, as he was humming confusedly, given you still hadn’t clarified why you called.
Your voice kind of cracked up for a moment, as you violently blushed on the other side. At least, the phone is an imageless form of communication.
“So, I’m okay. But my clothes, they, uh… I blew them up.”
He slowly began taking in what exactly you were saying.
“That's it, that’s what happened. I… I need clothes, please. Can you bring me some, just so I can get out of here without getting arrested for public indecency?”
Nanami kept silent for some time, and felt a slight rush of heat run over his cheeks.
“Nanami?” 
He coughed slightly, tensing his posture as he did.
“Yes, of course. But wouldn't you rather someone else to do that for you, like Ms. Nitta, or one of the female students?” 
That caught Shoko’s attention, and she discreetly looked at the sorcerer while he was still on the phone with you.
You nearly gagged.
“No! No way. I… I'm mortified as is.”
Somebody please fucking kill me.
“I can't talk about this with anyone else. It's too damn embarrassing,”  you stated, letting your mind go to random facts in order to try lifting the mood. “I now understand why that student from Kyoto keeps taking his shirt off to fight, but that's beside the point.”
You were met at the wake of your failed joke.
“I-I mean… Just bring me something, please.” 
Nanami cleared his throat as he pulled on his tie and opened his shirt’s top button.
“Fine. Send me your location.”
You sighed, relieved.
“Great, you're the best, thank you!”
He switched his phone off and grounded himself for a moment.
“Is she alright?” 
“Yes, she is,” he answered, some words choking on their way up for a second. “Ms. Ieiri, do you happen to have any clothes around here?” 
“What? Why would you need that?”
He couldn’t muster up anything remotely feasible to say, and given that embarrassment is an infectious condition, it began creeping up on him, too.
Nanami resumed speaking. “… I'm sorry to bother you. I just remembered I can get an assistant's uniform.” 
He then walked towards the door to leave.
“Nanami…” Shoko began.
“Hm?” He asked, as turning around.
“… Are you blushing?”
“... Good afternoon,” he answered, before stepping out a little quicker than usual.
***
Nanami had just arrived, and you let him know you were upstairs. As he asked how you wanted to receive the clothes, you were insistent that he threw the bag over the steps, and being a reasonable and rational person, the sorcerer obviously declined to do that.
“Just throw the thing already!” you yelled from the top of the stairs, away from his sight.
“I’m not uncivilized,” he replied, sighing. “I’m going to put them down here, and wait for you outside.”  
Nanami was considerably less mortified than you would expect, but it was him, Mr. mature, after all. Also, this wasn’t the first embarrassing situation of yours that he had witnessed.
You were prone to setting yourself up for absurd shenanigans, it seemed.
As you heard him leave and close the door, you stepped your way down and flimsily put the black pants and white buttoned shirt, which didn’t match at all with the hiking boots you usually wore on missions.
You went outside, and were met by him, his usual impassiveness slightly disturbed by something you couldn’t quite yet identify.
“Thank you, Nanami,” you stated, sighing relieved.
“It’s no trouble,” he answered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 
You were both uncomfortably silent for a while.
“These kinds of unexpected things happ-”
“We will never talk about this again as long as I live, please, I can’t cope” you pleaded, voice simmering with desperation for this awkward moment to be over, “just, please.” 
He cleared his throat, mindlessly adjusting his tie around his neck. It strangely felt more tight than usual.
“Of course. I apologize.”
“No need. It’s fine. Let’s just go back to Jujutsu High and pretend this never happened.”
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he said, sparing you a quick glance.
You smiled, amused and thankful.
“Right. Precisely.” 
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physalian · 8 months
Text
Plot Holes and How to Fill Them (Or, The Hidden Potential in Your Mistakes)
“But why didn’t they just do that earlier!”
“You can time travel – so time travel!”
“Doesn’t X have Y spell? Why aren’t they using it to escape?”
“You. Have. Telekinesis! How are you this stupid?”
Plot holes! The bane of every writer’s existence. You think you’ve polished your beautiful manuscript, you have it all sent out for the masses to consume and praise and shower with compliments and adoration… and then they start tugging at a thread that may or may not begin to unravel your entire story. You’ve read this thing top to bottom, forwards and backwards and upside down, so many times the letters are burned into your brain. You mumble your monologues in your sleep — how did you not see this? How do you fix this?
See this post about beginning the writing process that might help you avoid opening a plot hole entirely with a solid enough script and outline.
Types of Plot Holes
Your magic system’s established rules have just been broken for TeNSioN
Your Deus Ex Machina really did come out of nowhere and is quite out of character
Why doesn't Character just run away from a fight they can't win?
Characters forgetting they have superpowers, extreme intelligence, handy tools or weapons, survival skills, common sense, or crucial information to escape and/or solve a situation
Characters dying for the above mistakes when said death could have been avoided
The entire story could have been avoided had Character A just told Character B the truth
Character X should have known ___ all along given their profession/backstory/friend circle/education/personality
And variations of the above, I’m sure I’m missing a couple. Fixing plot holes generally come in two camps: Those you can fix by rewriting the existing manuscript that contains the hole, or those you have to work around from a previous manuscript that’s already been published.
Why Plot Holes Happen
Plot holes happen in reality. Expecting your first, second, or 15th draft to be completely foolproof is utter nonsense. Real people forget stuff they’re supposed to know all the time, tools that would be useful are left behind, GroupThink makes very bad decisions.
The difference is: You are writing fiction. Your goal is to be entertaining, not necessarily realistic. A character simply *forgetting* Macguffin X at the climax of the story does not make for an entertaining read, no matter how likely it might be to happen in the real world.
You’re making this entire world up as you go and that alone is an impressive feat millions of others can only dream about – cut yourself some slack, okay? Everything is fixable.
Plot holes also happen because we’re so engrossed in our own story that we forget it’s all made up. You’re 22 chapters into a 24 chapter novel and you’ve just realized your psychic hero would never have been caught unawares like this. “But that’s just how he is!”
No. Stop. That’s not just how he is. That’s just how you wrote him – and you can go back and un-write him. Any excuse you can dream up you can un-write, and unfortunately, you’ll likely have to do a fair bit of it if you still have the opportunity.
Plot holes generally open long after the inciting incident that causes them. If you’re going to fix it, duct-taping together a solution in that very same scene isn’t the way to do it. You have to figure out why it’s a hole at all, then go back and fix its foundations.
Finding Your Own Plot Holes
Sometimes you’re lucky enough to stumble upon them before it’s too late. A fair bit of the time, though, your audience has to tell you. Finding your own plot holes requires stepping back from your work and looking at it like you’re just a reader, not the author.
Read your plot out loud to yourself and keep asking questions like:
Does this make sense for the scene?
Does this only exist to look cool at the cost of logic?
Are these rules I wrote too easy to break or contradictory in any way?
Is there any other way for this character to escape this situation?
Is the only solution here too contrived?
That, and having an army of beta readers who should show you flaws you’ve overlooked. Even then, some things just aren’t obvious at all until someone too smart for their own good points out something no one else considered before.
It’s okay. It’s not the end of the world.
Filling Plot Holes
Fix your broken magic system
A “magic system” broadly describes any type of powers/abilities/supernatural entities that function in your world. They can be in high fantasy, urban fantasy, sci-fi, or any genre really. The Force is a magic system, as much as is bending in Last Airbender even if no one calls it “magic”.
For example: Force users are telekinetic… and yet don’t simply repeatedly spam the “chuck my enemies into a wall/off a cliff/anywhere that is away from me” button. It’s what you’d call a “soft” magic system, it doesn’t have explicit rules on how and when it can and should be used. It just *is*.
Fixing holes in your magic system first demands examining why you wrote it the way you did, why you gave it these specific rules, or why you didn’t, and all the ways characters should otherwise be able to use it when your story demands they get creative.
For soft magic systems — never let the magic system win the day. It invites far too much scrutiny. Gandalf from Lord of the Rings is a Wizard. He can do an undefined number of spells and has an unclear number of abilities and limit to his reach. Gandalf’s magic is never the saving grace of the Fellowship. So asking “why didn’t Gandalf just do X” isn’t ever a question people have because success never depends on Gandalf doing X.
Everyone hates on the time turner in Harry Potter, as they should. Time travel is essential to the plot of Prisoner of Azkaban, without it the heroes fail. And yet, because it is time travel, why it never existed earlier and why they never use it again to solve more massive plot problems is a valid question. As goes with many spells and abilities in the series.
For hard magic systems — remember that you wrote the rules, you can go back and change them at any time before it’s published. Bending in Last Airbender is rarely the focus of any conflict. Yes, two benders will fight each other, but it’s not “who’s the stronger bender,” it’s “who’s smarter with their element”. Who better uses their environment? Which one is racing against a clock before reinforcements arrive and overwhelm them? Which one runs the risk of exposing themselves if they start bending? Whose mental state is crippling their bending today?
These are all character-driven explanations for why certain abilities do or don’t manifest in a given scene… until the finale when it really is just a clash of red and blue aura lasers.
There is never a scene where a character is trapped when they shouldn’t be. Never a “why didn’t you just X” moment, because it’s never about the bending, it’s about the bender.
Turn plot-reasons into character-reasons
This means taking a “why don’t they just do X” and making the reason because one of the protagonists is morally against doing it, not because the hand of the author demands it.
In Last Airbender, Aang is vocally against simply killing the Fire Lord. It would be easier, it would risk far less casualties and carnage, it’s fastest. And yet. Aang doesn’t do it simply because he’s not strong enough or he doesn’t have some magical super weapon, or the stars have aligned and now he’s lost a very convenient ability – Aang doesn’t want to take the easy road because that’s who he is as a person.
He’s been raised as a monk to value the preservation of life above all else (ignoring any accidental casualties over the course of the series). Him being desperate to not simply kill Ozai is central to his character and even when he has the chance in the climax of the fight, he still doesn’t take it.
Now “why didn’t you do that earlier” does, still, concern the “energy bending” established out of nowhere just for the finale so Aang doesn’t have to compromise his morals to win… but the show is so damn good and Ozai’s just desserts so damn sweet it doesn’t really matter.
Making these plot decisions character decisions, so long as they are in-character, gives some juicy potential for schisms within Team Protagonist as fan favorites clash over ideals and morals and whether or not the greater good is worth them sacrificing something so central to their being.
This also applies to characters not sharing crucial information with each other. Make them distrustful of the others, or let them attempt it anyway and have some other consequence for the effort. Anything is better than a character sitting on valuable info simply to maintain the mystery.
Avoid Deus Ex Machinas
The “surprise reinforcement cavalry charge” is one of my favorite deus ex machinas in fantasy. Everybody cheers, it looks amazing, the music is swelling, our heroes on the battlefield realize they haven’t been forsaken by their friends, etc. In Lord of the Rings, yes, Theoden could have arrived 30 minutes earlier and saved even more lives, but we already knew he was on his way moving as fast as he could without exhausting his horses. Theoden’s army also took care of the bulk of the battle so when Aragorn arrives with the second surprise reinforcements, it’s less a decisive blow that comes out of nowhere and more the victory lap.
In “Battle of the Bastards,” Game of Thrones has its third surprise cavalry charge of the series, only this one much more explicitly comes to save the day. The difference between this scene and Theoden’s charge is: Audiences had no idea Littlefinger was on his way, and neither did Jon Snow. Had Sansa told him she had a plan, Jon could have waited. He wasn’t backed against a wall and forced to fight right then and there, he could have stalled an extra hour by just not showing up to the battlefield to wait for his cavalry. With Sansa inexplicably not telling him, she risked his life and the lives of his entire army because the hand of the writers wanted to keep it a surprise. Worst of all, when the battle is over, he compliments her decision, despite all the blood on her hands.
Surprise reinforcements, saviors, powers, and abilities always run the risk of “why didn’t they do that earlier” and you should be asking yourself the same question. If you can’t come up with an explanation other than “because it’ll look cool” go back to the drawing board.
Or, have your very own characters pissed that the savior didn’t just do that earlier. Have your characters ask where this special power was, have it mean something to them and the story at large. Had Jon been angry with Sansa, given their incredibly pyrrhic victory and the potentially avoidable death of their youngest brother, it might’ve made for some interesting character drama.
Give your saving graces deadly costs
“Why didn’t they just do X earlier?”
“Because doing X would have killed Character D, dummy.”
Giving your super special magic, mutant, super, or supernatural powers costs, drawbacks, and limitations forces the characters who use them to not resort to them every single chance they get. Their magic drains their physical stamina, or the demon they made a deal with camping in their brain threatens to overtake their psyche, or the sword is cursed and every time the hero raises it in battle, they lose a little piece of themselves. Or, using this creepy power strains their relationship with their friends or community.
Without risk and consequences, you cannot avoid “why didn’t they do that earlier,” because the only answer you have to give is “because I, the author, said so.” The only time a character is allowed to have selective amnesia about their superpowers is if it’s been established beforehand as a potential problem. Then it’s not “this came out of nowhere.” Then your audience is dreading the entire time waiting for that chekhov’s gun to fire.
Don’t compromise your story for sensationalism
I can complain about ~subverting expectations~ in another post, but what I mean here is this: Are you writing this scene purely for shock value, for the sake of a twist, because a story this grim demands at least one character death, or because it’s going to look epic?
In this post about pacing and this post about how to write tone, I talked about making your scenes pull double duty. You can write a scene for shock and awe, but if it’s at the expense of a character’s integrity or intelligence, come up with another way to make it spectacular.
You want the villain to monologue to give the heroes time to save the world? Then write a villain with an ego and personality that would monologue. You want the hero to be a one-man-army? Then write their personality as the lone wolf type and have it be a flaw of theirs that they keep striking out alone, consequences be damned.
You absolutely need the hero to not take the easy road and fight the bad guy without using their most effective weapon? Give them a reason to stall this fight. Maybe they really do need to simply run out a clock, or they don’t actually want to kill/subdue their opponent, or in doing so, the villain’s death is what causes the Bad Thing to happen.
If I write a character that can kill with just a look, every time I put them in a dangerous situation I need to then justify why they don’t do that over and over again, unless it’s by their own stubborn integrity that they choose not to.
If I write a villainous plan so devious and well thought out, the only thing standing in the way is living protagonists? I need a reason the villain doesn’t just murder the heroes every chance they get. Maybe they’re internally struggling over actually going through with it, or their ego demands the hero doesn’t get a quick or honorless death, or they do actually need a living hero for the plan to work.
Fixing Plot Holes in Sequels
All of the above is advice for issues within the same manuscript. What happens if you’ve already published and have the chance to address a known plot hole in the sequel?
About the worst thing you can do is slap in a throwaway line or hasty explanation to cover your ass. Everyone reading and watching will notice. Saying nothing is better than saying that.
See the duct-tape in Rise of Skywalker when the heroes explained that they couldn't just hypersspace-jump another ship into the enemy fleet because it worked so horribly effectively last time. Doesn't matter that they could have put it on autopilot or sacrificed a droid, or that, at any point in the history of Star Wars, someone else could have and should have done this desperate maneuver. For the sake of "looking cool" it opened an entire sinkhole.
Less a “hole” and more an inconsistency — the pegasus Blackjack in Percy Jackson is explicitly a mare, a female horse, in one book, and then inexplicably male in later books. Why? Well the author made a mistake, simple as that. He did *not* attempt to explain this error away or dig the hole deeper. It just is. Though I’m not sure why Blackjack couldn’t just stay a mare and how he didn’t reference the previous book when writing the sequel is a bit baffling.
If your heroes can no longer use the Deus Ex Machina they used before – have them attempt to use it, and then come up with a solid reason why it’s not possible. Maybe it was one-time use, or the savior simply doesn’t want to, or the cost/risk is too high to attempt it again, or it simply can’t be found and it’s very frustrating.
Have the heroes be morally opposed to doing what they did before, or overconfident, or skeptical that it will even work again only for that choice to bite them in the ass later. Have the magic item all used up, the recipe to recreate it lost to history. There’s a hundred better excuses than the hand of the author simply saying so.
If you aren’t going to write a sequel and you accept living with the plot hole unfilled… chances are people are going to love the story despite its flaws. Harry Potter is the poster child of “why didn’t they use X spell to solve the problem” or “they have a spell for X, yet they don’t have a spell for Y?” and how many people love that story?
In the end, a plot hole can be tiny or massive and chances are the story you told is entertaining enough to make up for it. It’s just a story, it’s just fiction. Learn from your mistakes so the next piece you create is even better.
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slytherinslut0 · 2 months
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ignore me for a second because this is literally just going to be insistent nonsensical rambling but what i really crave more than anything else currently is a story dissecting tom riddles one fundamental flaw; his inexperience/inability to feel selfless, genuine love.
i have, for the most part, written my tom very removed from canon but i just feel like a story surrounding this could be so beautiful if articulated right. i think of how i wrote mattheo in beg for me—he was so reluctant to let himself feel love because along with it came fear; fear of abandonment fear of vulnerability fear of what it could mean to have something worth losing. tom’s fear would be tenfold.
i don’t know if i’m crazy but i just need that angst from him right now. i love self assured emotionally detached composed tom riddle but a tom riddle who finds himself enamoured with you to the point he’s wishing he never met you because he misses the man he was before you—the restrained man with nothing to lose—yes, the thought of that does something to me.
not to mention i’ve been listening to sleep token nonstop and if these lyrics don’t fit tom then idk:
“I’m not here to be the saviour you long for, only the one you don’t.”
i love this line and i feel as though this would be something tom says to you as you’re attempting to push him away. such a prose fits him so well because he’d be trying to tell you that he may not be the hero in your story but his presence is still significant in its own right. he’s never claimed to be the good guy but that you could gain something from him you may not realize yet.
“I’ll take a pound of your flesh before you take a piece of my paystub.”
a threat spat through a clenched jaw and hunger blown pupils. uttered from the lips of a lying man who knows he’d never lay a finger on you and would kill anyone who dared to try. he’s still in denial of his feelings, you’re in denial of yours. the two of you so alike you’re destined to butt heads.
“Turn me into your mannequin and I’ll turn you into my puppet queen.”
tom often presents himself as someone willing to be molded to gain trust. it’s different with you because you know this. you’ve accepted it. you need eachother—you feed off eachother—you’d be a fool to ignore it. he uses you for one thing and you use him for another. you can’t fall victim to his tricks if you know that’s all they are. surface value. mutual manipulation.
alright i will stop rambling. i’d love to write this but i don’t think i could ever do him justice.
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ghcstao3 · 8 months
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Im currently watching brave and it’s given me brain worms hehe
It’s to do with the will o’ the wisp!
Either soaps been seeing them his whole life guiding him to the task force or after a rough mission, totally lost/injured and with no way to contact anyone they guide his way back to ghost :D
Thanks for everything you write it genuinely makes my day to read all your works!!
ooh i really like this. also- apparently will o' the wisps are actually Not good in folklore so i wrote a little twist to fix that ;)
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Throughout his life, Soap's nan had always liked to tell him stories about the many malevolent creatures he should hope to never have the misfortune of encountering—kelpies, redcaps, sluaghs; just about everything that existed in his homeland's folklore.
A little cruel in retrospect, Soap thinks, but for a while he'd just understood it as his nan's way of ensuring her grandson was to behave. They were myths, old tales and explanations for the unexplainable, and he can appreciate the determination to share tradition.
But now, as Soap is stranded in thick woods after an operation gone awry, blood sticky on his temple and a bullet stuck in his leg, he's not so sure they were just stories. Not as he's currently staring down an unnatural wisp of light in the darkness, hovering just a few feet away from where he'd collapsed against the thick, gnarled trunk of a tree.
Will o' the wisp, his mind supplies. Omens of death, his nan had told him, like many other creatures and spirits. They appear to the weary and lost like himself, flickers of glowing blue light almost hopeful as they guide one along a seemingly nonsensical path—but instead of leading someone to safety, they lure people to their doom.
The wisp just floats, unmoving, as Soap sits frozen. He tries his radio to no avail, and realizes with a great dread that he only has two options: attempt to find his own way back to his team, to anyone, anywhere, with the great risk of only getting more lost—or follow the wisp in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, it may actually lead him somewhere useful, no matter how bad the destination. Soap could only hope that doom is something he can fend off with a gun.
His decision is made rather easily because... he supposes it doesn't really make a difference, does it?
So he pushes himself away from the tree and toward the light—it vanishes as soon as he steps toward it, but with another step forward, another wisp appears.
Soap limps along, following the wisps. They weave him through trees and take sharp, sudden turns, disappearing and reappearing endlessly as Soap pursues the trail they leave. His head is on a swivel with every sound that isn't the crunch of branches beneath his own boots, with every flash of movement in his periphery.
He feels like he’d been walking forever by the time the forest has grown less dense and the wisps fade away for good—and that's when Soap sees it.
The large, imposing silhouette. The hulking figure cloaked in black. The glimpse of a skull in the sliver of moonlight that had managed to break through the forest's canopy.
Soap swallows a laugh. The will o' the wisps must have led him to Ghost, not realizing doom would have only been certain for Soap had he been the enemy.
Funny.
Ghost spots him and raises his gun, pauses, then after a moment lowers the barrel.
"Johnny?" Ghost grunts. "Where the fuck've you been?"
Soap shrugs a shoulder, wincing as he steps closer. "Lost my way running from the facility. Comms were dead." He flashes a crooked grin. "Worked out though, aye?"
Ghost snorts. "Aye," he echoes. "C'mon, then. Exfil's waiting. Save your explanations 'til then."
Soap gladly follows, relief nearly exalting.
But as they walk shoulder-to-shoulder, Soap can’t help but cast one last glance back at the trees from where he had emerged.
He wonders if the wisps had really made a mistake. He wonders if maybe they hadn't been done leading him, but Ghost had gotten in the way.
Questions he'll likely never find the answers for.
But regardless, now in safe hands—Soap thinks he had better refresh himself on his nan's stories as soon as he gets the chance.
He doesn't know now, whenever they might come in handy.
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yenonnoff · 4 months
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ೃ⁀➷ from beginning to end | (day)
synopsis: peaceful days on the alcor with kazuha and his lovely significant other.
content: established relationship, fluff, comfort, kazuha just loves the reader; wanderer's part is a parallel version to this <3
note: this was completely written and dedicated to @kqbukimono (may)!!! it's a crime to subject kazuha to any pain. this is for all the times when ure genuinely rly nice and funny ᐢᗜᐢ hope u enjoy!!
the wanderer's love (wanderer) | from beginning to end
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to kazuha, loving you was like a breath of fresh air. it was a walk through pretty gardens of cecilias and scenic views. your touch, your gaze, your presence—everything about you made things idyllic, and kazuha loved you dearly. 
he was stuck in a cycle of stagnation before you joined the crux. it was the same routine everyday: relax on the ship, have writer’s block, deal with beidou and the crew’s shenanigans, and so on. you were the gentle breeze that moved things along, at least with you this routine was bearable. 
kazuha was a man of placidity, he was also a man with a zeal for adventure and stories… he was also hopelessly in love with you—the combination of everything he treasured and more. 
mornings on the ship were mostly peaceful: kazuha could be found right by your side, always sharing meals together while he told you stories and haikus (you had reignited his motivation to write). 
afternoons were even better when beidou would anchor the ship and head into town. sometimes you stayed together; other times, you went separate ways, coming back with a million things to tell one another. he’d listen softly as you spoke, humming in response or making a comment that was often accompanied with blissful laughter. 
he could never get tired of this: conversing about nonsense that effortlessly filled him with love and admiration. he was comfortable with you, drunk on the way you understood one another. you consumed his writing and his thoughts. everything kazuha wrote overflowed with compassion, each word painting a precious memory. 
however, he found it difficult to write about you specifically. no amount of metaphors or similes, pretty diction or imagery could ever fully depict your grace and splendor. he’d struggle and feel dissatisfied. still, kazuha tries again everyday, realizing new things just by spending time with you. 
nights on the alcor consisted of inane celebrations and drinking contests. asinine rambling would fill the ship as platters of food scattered across the deck. there was no escaping beidou and her crew’s drunken mischief so the two of you would often sit side by side and enjoy a drink. you’d only excuse yourself when the night breeze got too chilly and your lover’s warmth could no longer blanket you. 
nights always ended with a kiss and the whistling of ocean waves. the two of you would slumber until a new day started, this time more unexpected and spontaneous than the last. that was just how life was with you, and kazuha wouldn’t trade it for any treasure on teyvat. 
he slept soundly every night knowing you were by his side; he slept knowing he was the luckiest man ever.
when the sun rises again, kazuha will wake with gratitude and affection coating his heart. the two of you will have all the time in the world to go on adventures and converse about trivial matters. he’ll have all the time to say, “i love you,” over and over again.
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sapphicvqmpires · 1 year
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❁ཻུ۪۪♡ eyes on me
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Pairing - nerd!shuri x black!fem reader
Word Count - 10.7k (just vibe with me)
Contains - smut (18+), switch!shuri, switch!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, choking/gagging/breathplay, throat-fucking, overstimulation, dacryphilia, strap-on, breeding kink, slight bondage (not really) mean!reader, just FILTH, some angst, some fluff
Divider From - @firefly-graphics
Sneak Peak - “What’s that you’re working on, baby?” Your tone was low, sultry, a tool to invite her in to observe the way she would give into you. She looked up at you, a hint of thrill masking her beautiful face at the question and your heart grew at the way she lit up. She began to talk about nonsense that meant nothing to you, growing in excitement as you grew in boredom. True to your slightly mean nature, you yawned, almost intentionally knocking down her enthusiasm and her face grew saddened, choking down her words as you belittled her
Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @venusdraco @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)
Writers Note: this is 100% inspired by @oceean and her story as well as her nerd!shuri head cannons she wrote, I fell in love instantly and just knew I had to write her! Thank you so much for your inspiration! I was also inspired by at least 2 of @pocketsizedpanther writing prompts (I won’t say which ones until the end) but thank you so much to you both for your incredible ideas! I apologize in advance for some of the readers actions but bear with me…enjoy this filthy fic!
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❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The night before clouded your mind as you sat with the girl in front of you: Amari. While she wasn't officially your girlfriend, she meant more to you than just "friends with benefits" as defined by society. Amari fucked you hard enough to keep you around, yet you hoped she would take the initiative to make your whatever relationship you had with her official. However, that day never arrived, leaving you questioning if it ever would. And it’s not like you were afraid to take charge and ask her to be yours, but deep down you knew she simply wanted to have a good time with you, using you at her own convenience and keeping you close without the obligations of having to care for you beyond your body's physical needs, without having to love you beyond the way you made each other feel in bed.
And that is why your mind wandered to your previous night.
Your academic abilities were never impressive; in fact, you often questioned your overall intelligence, especially considering your past choices in romantic partners. However, Shuri willingly stepped in to assist you with your studies. Yet, the more time she spent helping you, the more you became aware of her remarkable beauty—the sharp contours of her face and the enticing fullness of her lips. Unable to resist, you found yourself captivated by her gaze, leading to an unexpected, breathtaking kiss between you both. It caught you both off guard but possessed a mesmerizing allure. She treated you delicately, and that moment was all it amounted to—a kiss that stirred emotions within you that you weren't certain you wanted to experience, yet undeniably, you did.
A firm kiss on your knuckles brought from Amari’s lips settled your mind back to her and your surroundings. Once she realized she had your attention, Amari reached out, intertwining her fingers with yours and placing another kiss upon your knuckles, evoking a forced laugh from you.
“What’s wrong, y/n? You’ve been quiet the whole time and don’t say ‘nothing’ cause I know your ass don’t know when to shut up, always talking. So what’s wrong?”
Nothing was wrong, per se, but how were you gonna tell her how you invited Shuri to your little brunch ‘date’? It was hardly a date though. Amari didn’t take you out on dates.
“Nothing,” you replied, subtly rolling your eyes in a way that you had hoped she wouldn’t notice but she did.
“I saw that.”
“You saw what?”
“You always rolling your eyes at something, so tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong, I should probably just tell you I invited Shuri today. She’ll probably be here soon actually.”
“Shuri? Like…Udaku?”
“No, the other Shuri,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes yet again.
“The fuck? What is she coming here for?”
Truth be told, you weren’t entirely certain what possessed you to invite Shuri to your brunch with Amari. You didn't even bother mentioning to Shuri that she would be there. But what you were certain of was this: you desired to experience her presence once more, to have her in a space that extended beyond the confines of your bedroom. You longed to observe how she would make you feel while Amari stood before you, curious if her mere presence would overshadow Amari's, despite your hopes that it wouldn't.
“Because why the fuck not? No one ever invites her to anything and plus she’s always helping me and shit with literally…everything. She deserves to get out every once in a while.”
The cafe was fairly quiet, allowing the gentle jingle of the door chime to catch both of your attentions simultaneously. It was Shuri, looking slightly awkward with her book bag slung over her shoulder and a petite bouquet of flowers in her hand. Amari couldn't help but release a soft yet teasing chuckle, prompting you to retaliate by lightly hitting her shoulder.
“Be nice,” you demand.
“Yuh huh.”
“I’m being for real, don’t fuck around.”
“Yeah y/n, whatever.”
Shuri scanned the café until her gaze finally locked onto yours. An intense gulp passed through her, her grip tightening on the book bag as she navigated her way toward the two of you. Seeing you accompanied by another person caused her head to droop slightly, her heart sinking as she held onto the bouquet of yellow and pink tulips. While taking her seat at the vacant spot around the table, she licked her lips causing Amari to release yet another derisive chuckle. You glared at her, using your eyes as a means to tell her to shut up.
“Shuri, Amari. Amari, Shuri,” you say, acquainting the two girls to one another.
“Hi,” Shuri responds, making eye contact with no one but the wooden table underneath her. For a brief moment, a pang of guilt washed over you. You could simply sense the deep nervousness emanating from Shuri's entire being, evident in her difficulty to maintain eye contact with either of you. You alone had the power to make her tremble, make her trip over her words, but with Amari now present in the equation, her nervousness seemed to escalate beyond measure.
Amari looked at you, raising an eyebrow in question of your decision to invite her here but you shrug your shoulders back at her. Initially, you made an effort to engage Shuri in small talk, but your questions were met with short responses, her voice trembling with nerves. It reached a point where frustration and annoyance welled up within you, irritated by how Amari seemed to have Shuri so flustered. As a result, you chose to ignore Shuri for the remainder of the brunch as you indulged in flirtatious behavior with Amari. You sulked in every kiss and hold she gave you, fully aware that Shuri was observing, despite her attempts to appear uninterested. Shuri eventually retrieved her work from her book bag, delicately placing her textbook on the table as she chose to focus on her tasks rather than the moments you were sharing with someone else. An eye roll escaped you once more, a sign of your annoyance. You couldn't help but perceive her as a bit of a loser—a cute one, admittedly, but still a loser.
The brunch gradually drew to a close, marked by a scarcity of conversation between you and Shuri, who remained absorbed in her own world, diligently attending to her tasks. You exchanged your goodbye’s with Amari as she made her way out, allowing a sense of relief to settle over you. At last, you found yourself alone with Shuri.
You turn your body to face hers and for the first time in what seems like the whole time she was there, her eyes met yours. You ignored the way your heart skipped a beat with the way her gaze made you feel, eyeing the bouquet of tulips that rested beside her text book.
“Who are these for?,” you teased, plucking a petal off and flicking it at her face. Shuri winced at the gesture, pressing her glasses into her face as she gathered the courage to tell them they were meant for you. The sight of Amari holding your hand, kissing you, embracing your body made her feel small. Weak. Nothing compared to the sharp presence the other girl carried.
“Well…I brought them for you but then…I saw you with her. So nevermind I guess.”
A gentle chuckle escaped your lips, a mix of delight and uncertainty, as you appreciated the gesture of her gift. Being given flowers was a new experience for you, especially after sharing such a small, insignificant moment. Shuri, however, looked down in a state of embarrassment, wishing to disappear into a void as she set the flowers on the ground. She found no amusement in the situation but your laughter persisted, raising her sense of humiliation. Gradually, your laughter subsided as you composed yourself to find the right words.
“No Shuri, no. I love them, it’s just…look baby. Just because we shared some lame kiss last night doesn’t make us lovers, ok? Don’t get that shit twisted.” Your words were a bit harsh, that you can admit, but you wanted the point to get to her. “Do you understand me?”
She nods and a small smile appears on your face. “Good.”
You look down at her work, almost entranced by numbers and letters that scatter across her paper in patterns unknown to you. Truly, you couldn’t care less about what she was working on, but you wanted to hear Shuri talk, listen to her voice and the quality it carried.
“What’s that you’re working on, baby?” Your tone was low, sultry, a tool to invite her in to observe the way she would give into you. She looked up at you, a hint of thrill masking her beautiful face at the question and your heart grew at the way she lit up. She began to talk about nonsense that meant nothing to you, growing in excitement as you grew in boredom. True to your slightly mean nature, you yawned, almost intentionally knocking down her enthusiasm and her face grew saddened, choking down her words as you belittled her.
“Come on Shuri, I’m playing. You know I don’t actually care about this shit. Don’t act all surprised now.”
Shuri sighs, shutting the textbook as she stuffs it back in her book bag. She stands up, preparing to leave and her action catches you off guard.
“Uh uh..sit down. Where do you think you’re going?”
“I…why did you invite me here? You clearly don’t want me to be here and you’re being mean.”
You couldn’t help but let out another small laugh. As much as you were trying to fess up to her, fit into her bubble, she made you giggle. You grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down onto her chair and she complied without objection. You tenderly pinched her jaw, forcing her to look at you because you were tired of the lack of eye contact she was making with you.
“I’m not being mean, Shuri, you’re just too easy to poke fun at. Loosen up and have a little fun.”
Her eyes beamed at you, a sly smile appearing on her face as you began to subtly caress her strong features. She surrendered to your touch willingly, almost as though she had yearned for this moment for an eternity. Your fingers brushed against her glasses, causing Shuri to instinctively recoil ever so slightly from your embrace.
“What’s the matter? You look adorable in these,” you mention, lightly tapping the frame. You pull them off of her in a playful manner and instant fear strikes her gaze.
“Please don’t…don’t break them please.”
You smile, placing them on your face. You scan the room, unable to see a thing through her glasses.
“Damn, Shuri. You got some shitty ass prescription, don’t you?”
Her throat tightens as she struggles to respond, fearing that you may damage her glasses. You observe her unease, her fidgeting, yet you choose to disregard it. Instead, you open up your Snapchat camera, relishing in how pretty you feel in her glasses.
“How do I look?,” you asked playfully, ruffling your fingers through your curls. Shuri’s eyes disconnected from yours once more, looking down at the ground as she mumbled.
“You look really pretty, y/n.”
You clenched her jaw once more, this time with a tad bit more force as you made her eyes bore into yours for what you hoped to be the last time.
“Hmmm? Look at me angel when you say shit like that. Again, Shuri. How do I look?” You found immense satisfaction in the power dynamics that enveloped your interactions with her. The dominance you exuded in her presence delighted you to no end. Shuri's trembling before you served as a subtle affirmation of her desire, a constant reminder of how deeply she yearned to be with you and it made you feel desirable; a feeling you hardly felt when you were with Amari.
“Y-you look really pretty…with my glasses on.”
You smile tenderly, placing the glasses on her face as you bop her nose with your finger, making you both giggle. Her smile made you feel warm.
“There’s a party going on tonight, can you come please?” You weren’t going to take no for an answer.
“I’m not really a party person, y/n. Plus I got stuff to do.”
“Yeah? Like what? Sit at home and do this boring shit all day?,” you say, mentioning Shuri’s school work. “Have some fun for once. And I’m not taking no for an answer.” Although your words were demanding, your tone was soft, more gentle as you didn’t want to frighten the already trembling Shuri in front of you.
“I’m not leaving here until you agree…I wanna see you again Shuri.”
She grapples with crafting a response to your stern words, driven by a strong desire to satisfy you and bring you joy, because she too wanted to spend time with you, engage in conversation, but ultimately, she craved your undivided attention. She longed for you exclusively and alone.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Shuri? Speak to me.”
“Where’s the party gonna be?,” she mumbles, and this time you allow it.
“At Amari’s house.”
She subtly crinkles her nose, a faint eye roll following and you raise an eyebrow at her mannerisms. You were well aware of the motive behind her reaction, but you wanted to hear it verbalized by her.
“What?”
“What?”
“What’s wrong with Amari’s house?”
“Nothing…”
“Then what’s the long face for, Shuri?”
She releases a weary sigh, opting to remain silent as you patiently anticipate an answer she chooses not to provide. You roll your eyes in response as you pull out your phone to text her the address.
“Party starts at 9:00, I’ll see you there. And it’s not a question.”
As she attempts to open her mouth in protest, you swiftly bring your finger to her lips, silencing any words before they can escape. The tension in her throat becomes apparent as she swallows hard, the bobbing motion a testament to her internal struggle. With a tender kiss upon her lips, you convey your longing to meet again without having to explicitly acknowledge it verbally. But to Shuri, it meant something completely different; she yearned for you deeply but you just didn’t have the capacity to reciprocate her needs. Not yet anyway.
“I’ll see you later, Shuri.” Your final words before taking off, leaving Shuri with nothing but the pink and yellow tulips she brought for you.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You leaned your body into Amari’s, red cup in both of your hands as you indulged in the liquid inside. The pulsating music coursed through your veins, dictating your every movement as you sensually pressed your body against the woman behind you.
“You look so sexy tonight,” Amari whispered into you, her voice sending a deep chill up your spine.
“Yeah…that’s all I look like to you nowadays.”
“What does that mean?”
You took another sip of your drink, savoring the sting that poured down your throat.
“Nothing,” you replied. You continued to sway in rhythm, moving sensually as Amari handled every inch of your body like she owned you. It seemed as though she genuinely desired you, and for an instant, her actions almost swayed you. You were aware of what she craved in that very moment – she yearned for your submission, for your vulnerability, wanting you to surrender completely to her touch. And with each passing second, you found yourself succumbing a little more to her allure. However, your attention abruptly shifted as you noticed who had just entered through the door; her bookbag on her shoulder while still grasping onto the tulips you were meant to take earlier and your heart sank at the image. You had underestimated the hurt that Shuri must have felt, leaving behind the flowers she had brought you. Your mind had been too preoccupied with other matters to fully comprehend your actions.
“I’ll be right back,” you spat, chugging down your last bit of alcohol.
“Where you going, baby?”
“I said I’ll be back.”
Amari picked up on your tone and you're thankful she chose not to engage in an argument at that moment. She pulled you closer, pressing your back into her chest as she placed a tipsy kiss into your cheek before harshly letting your body go. Shuri patiently waited for you by the door, visibly exhaling with relief as you made your way towards her. With a discreet gesture, you beckoned Shuri to step aside, hoping to avoid Amari's notice. You appreciated the fact that Amari resided in a spacious house with several roommates, as it allowed you to swiftly guide Shuri into the bustling crowd, sinking into a secluded corner where prying eyes would not find you. Shuri trembled, but this was nothing unfamiliar. It was precisely the way you wanted her to be.
“You made it,” you playfully remarked, draping your arms around her neck, initiating a gentle swaying motion in sync with the music. Shuri quickly caught on to your intentions, recognizing your subtle efforts to coax her into dancing with you.
“I-I’ve never done this before,” she stammers, clearly tense from her own self-doubt.
“You’re doing amazing, baby, just follow my movements.”
It took a moment or two, but Shuri gradually let her guard down, slowly allowing herself to indulge in the intoxicating combination of your presence and the music. Once you notice her growing comfort in your embrace, you dangerously decide to escalate the intensity. You spun your body around, pressing your back into her chest and it initially caught her off guard, but she adjusted to the new dynamic. You gently pressed your ass into her crotch area, igniting a deep fire within Shuri that caused her face to grow warm. You smiled, because even though she wasn’t directly facing you, you could sense the heavy pound of her heart break out of her chest and fall onto your back.
“Just relax, Shuri,” you whispered and she obliged, resting her head into your shoulder and you couldn’t help but notice the dampness that began to form in between your legs. It was silly to you, how easily you became aroused with Shuri with just her presence alone. She bravely pecked a kiss into your neck and you figured that was your que.
“Wanna go upstairs?”
“Hmm?”
You turned around to face her, met with a body that screamed in fear but eyes that longed in desperation.
“You heard me, baby. Answer me.”
Her head sunk low as she gathered the courage to reply to you. Shuri wanted you desperately. She wanted to explore you, feel you, make you feel good and watch you as you gave into her touch. This, her mind was absolutely sure of so she did not let her mouth betray her. Not this time.
“Yeah.”
“Louder Shuri, I can’t hear you.”
“Yes, y/n. I wanna go upstairs.”
You smile. “Perfect.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“What’s on your mind, Shuri? Open yourself to me.”
Shuri’s hands trembled, her palms growing sweaty as she anxiously waited for you to make the first move. For a moment, the room seemed to close in on her, suffering her with a mix of anticipation and self-doubt but once you pressed your lips into hers, it was as if all fear had been lifted, basking in the way you carried the kiss. You wrapped your arms around her neck, your nose bumping her glasses and you giggled at the touch. Your lipgloss smears on her lips, and she savors the taste of you, lingering in the love you gave her now.
“You’re so beautiful Shuri,” you say, and you mean it with every fiber of your being. “Tell me you want this, that you crave this as much as I do. I want to know that you’re ok.”
“I want this,” she replies instantly, her fast response quickening the beat of your heart and the beat that began rising in between your thighs. “I want you so bad, y/n.”
Shuri scrunches your mini dress up to your hips, her eyes growing wide at the damp spot that formed on your panties. You opened your legs wide for her as she became more and more mesmerized with the way you soaked through the material.
“C-can I touch you? Please…?”
“My legs are open for you, baby. Do whatever the hell you want to me.”
She swallows, consuming a huge intake of oxygen as her fingers trace the contours of your body. With affectionate care, she caresses you, as if desiring to prolong this moment indefinitely. Once her hands find your pussy, she pulls off the fabric and swiftly discards it aside, all while her eyes become deeply fixated on your glistening center. Without delay, she glides her tattooed fingertips between your sticky folds, causing you to sharply inhale at the sensation. Your nerves quiver under her touch as she drags her fingers across your pounding clit. She takes the tips of her index and middle fingers and applies pressure to the sensitive bud, moving them in a circular motion that forces a moan to escape your throat.
“Do you like this?,” she asked and you grew confused because here you were, a moaning mess with her fingers covered in your slick and she was asking if you liked it.
“Yes, unh, yes Shuri…ooo fuck yes. Just like that baby, keep going. Unh.”
Her hands were skillful, pressing into your bundle of nerves that made your throb intensify, your gut beginning to clench as you felt your release approach. Shuri skillfully directed her fingers down to your entrance, pressing against your tight opening without fully submerging herself into you. She traced delicate circles around your entrance, watching the way you squirmed in desperation as your pussy grappled with her fingers, trying to draw her in. A crooked smile graced Shuri’s face as she witnessed how hungry your body grew for her, how needy your pussy became for fingers and the sight of you made her own pussy clench around nothing. Finally, she dipped her fingers into you, and your mouth fell open in awe as her skilled digits effortlessly found that precise spot inside you that yearned for her touch.
“Oh my god, Shuri, yes. YES. Right there.”
She thrusted into you, your pussy clenching her fingers frantically as your legs squeezed together in pleasure, but Shuri wasn’t having it. She wanted to see you, get lost in the sight of your longing and how much your pussy swallowed her fingers.
“Please y/n, keep your legs open. I want to see you.”
With a deliberate motion, she spread your legs apart once more, granting herself a perfect vantage point of what belonged to her. She observed you intently, studying the way your mouth dropped open, the way your eyes rolled back and refocused to meet her gaze, the way her name sounded falling off your pretty, sinful lips.
“You’re so pretty.”
And with that, she brought her fingers from her other hand into play, pressing them against your sensitive clit while her other hand remained immersed in your soaked pussy.
“Tell me what you’re feeling, y/n. I wanna know that I’m making you feel good.”
“Shuri…fuck. Oh my god…you make me…you make my pussy feel so fucking good.”
And this much was true. A feeling that left your entire body tingling, your chest heaving up and down as you struggled to keep up with your shattered breathing pattern.
“Mmm. H-how are you s-so…unh…fuck…so good at this? UNH.”
“I know my human anatomy very well.”
“Of course y-you do, baby. Of course you fucking do. Shit. FUCK. I’m gonna…fuck Shuri.”
“You’re close. I can feel it, y/n.” She was absolutely correct. “Can I taste you?”
Your head swings forward in surprise at her question, almost inclined to shake your head in disagreement as you were already overwhelmed with the way Shuri was fucking you like you meant nothing and everything all at once; but there was a desperate plea of innocence coated in Shuri’s eyes for how much she longed to place her mouth in between your thighs that made it so much more difficult to deny her request.
“Go ahead Shuri, taste me.”
With wide eyes and a shy grin, she positions your legs over her shoulders, eagerly indulging in the act of pleasuring you with the ways of her tongue and the way she devours you is nothing short of orgasmic bliss.
“Ah! Oh my fuck, Shuri. UNH.”
The Shuri who could calculate the most impossible calculations in a spliff or create the most inventive of things in days was sucking your drenched pussy as if you were her own experiment, her own assignment to complete until you were shivering in her grasp.
Her tongue was skillful, coated with your cream as she flicked and pressed into you. She brought her chin and nose into play, swiping through your slit and the sensation was euphoric, sending electric waves throughout your pussy that radiated throughout the rest of your body in thick motions.
“Oh fuck Shuri, fuck baby, keep doing that. You’re doing in-incredible. Mmm, yeah, Unh.”
You looked down at her, dark orbs never leaving your gaze as she basked in the sight of you. She wanted to keep you like this forever, and this proved evident through the way she placed her fingers back into your snug cunt.The overwhelming pleasure consumed you as her tongue caressed your clit and her fingers delved inside, expertly targeting your g-spot simultaneously. The sensation of her glasses brushing against your inner thighs heightened the experience, as she continued to ask for your reassurance.
“Please, y/n. Tell me how I’m doing. Do you feel good?,” she asked before proceeding to suck on your puffy clit.
“I’m so wet for you, Shuri. Don’t stop…I’m s-so close. Fuck .”
You placed your hand on the top of her head, grasping her soft curls as her fervent stimulation at your core became sloppier and heavier. Your pussy clenched her fingers, your clit fluttering against her taste buds and the double penetration propelled you swiftly towards your climax. With a few more dual pumps and licks, you were sent over the edge, completely vanquished from head to toe by the deep and slow pulsations that coursed through your pussy walls.
“Yeah! YEAH! AHH…yes Shuri, oh my…f-FUCK.”
Your cries in pleasure did not force Shuri to stop her movements both in and on you, continuing to fuck you as your cunt spasmed beneath her touch, your vision becoming nothing but a foggy haze.
“Shit Shuri, I’m cumming babe, I’m cumming!,” you struggled to say, trying to squirm out of her grasp.
“I know. I heard you. I just like seeing you like this,” she hums into your pussy.
She released her fingers from inside you as she stuck her tongue out fully, allowing you to ride your throbbing clit against her tongue. Your slick was audible against her, a loud sloshing sound that mixed in with your vile moans; a musical duo that made Shuri’s pussy clench in satisfaction.
“SHURI.”
As your mind and body struggled to descend from your blissful high, the shaking girl beneath you raised her body to meet your gaze once again. Her face bore the evidence of your intimate encounter as your cum glistened against her, staining the lenses of her glasses. You reached out your hand to caress her cheek in an attempt to soothe her nerves.
“W-what’s wrong baby? Why are you shaking?,” you managed to say through your own post-orgasmic state.
“Was…was that ok?”
You almost scoff at her unbelievable question.
“Baby…your head was between my trembling thighs and my pussy’s still beating …how are you even asking me this shit right now?”
She remains silent as her eyes scan your face, never quite connecting with yours as her face flushed with warmth. Your lips press against hers, savoring in your flavor, and she responds with a soft yet passionate moan.
“Let me take care of you, Shuri,” you say, beginning to unbuckle her pants but she holds your wrists, pausing you midway. With a deep inhale, she presses her forehead on yours, bringing your knuckles to her lips.
“Not tonight, y/n. I just wanted to make you feel good.” Her voice was low and husky, probably the clearest words she’s spoken today and it made your pussy pulse. She reaches down beside the bed, grabbing the flowers you were meant to take earlier. They weren’t as fresh as they first were, but the gesture made you want to cry.
“Fine…but don’t think I’m done with you,” you replied, retrieving the pink and yellow tulips. “I’ll see you tomorrow? 4:30? I need help with another assignment.”
“I’ll be there.”
After planting a final kiss on her swollen lips, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. It's important to you that there is no evidence of Shuri's touch remaining on your body when you return to face Amari. You know that she will undoubtedly be curious about your absence at this very moment, although deep down, you're aware that she doesn't genuinely care.
You make your way to the bathroom to restore yourself. With a touch of powder, you freshen your face and carefully apply a new layer of gloss to your lips. You took a moment to adjust your dress, which no longer hugs your body as it should, and ensure it falls perfectly. With a final adjustment to your hair, you gaze at the reflection before you, appreciating the image that stares back. You discard the flowers into the trash as it was the final evidence of your time with Shuri before heading downstairs to rejoin the party.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The next day approaches, waking up in your dorm room with Amari beside you, both of you absolutely fucked out from the intense night you two shared after the party. You groaned in frustration, pulling your blanket over your head as your previous night came flooding back to memory. You looked at your clock that read 4:17pm and you cursed under your breath immediately.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
The realization dawns on you that you had completely lost track of time after the party. It was nearly 4 am when you finally made it back to your room, fucking with Amari for a good amount of time after before you had finally passed out from exhaustion. Shuri promised she’d be in for 4:30pm to help with your assignment and you were far from ready. You opened your messages to text her, hoping she’d be ok to reschedule for a later time.
*Hey does 7 work? I got caught up in some shit*
Three bubbles pop up on the screen almost immediately.
*Yeah, that works.*
*thank youuuuu*
*you’re welcome :).*
You started pushing at Amari to wake her up. “Babe, wake up. I got shit to do.”
“Hmmmm?,” she replies, still half asleep.
“I said get up. I need you to go.”
After a few minutes, she finally gets up, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Damn y/n, what’s the rush?”
“We overslept.”
“It’s a sunday babe, we can sleep however long we want.”
You sigh, pinching the top of your nose as you inhale deeply. “Look Amari, I just need you to go. I got shit to do.”
“What’s with the fucking attitude?”
Truthfully, you weren’t entirely sure where the sudden attitude was coming from but what you did know was you were beginning to grow deeply frustrated with how much Shuri was fogging your mind.
“I ain’t got no damn attitude but I will if you don’t get the fuck out of here.”
Amari scoffs. “The fuck is your damn problem? Don’t tell me this has anything to do with that girl.”
“Don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Uh huh. I ain’t stupid, I saw those flowers in the trash can yesterday. Those same damn pink and yellow flowers. Who were you with last night when you were gone?”
A tight feeling began to wrench in your gut, accompanied by a sense of embarrassment short after.
“You just opening your legs for anybody now??”
“Does that bother you??”
“Yes that fucking bothers me, y/n.”
“I don’t see what your damn problem is with that, we ain’t even together.”
“Here your fucking ass goes again with this stupid conversation.”
You theatrically express your annoyance, intending to make your way towards the bathroom, but Amari seizes your wrist, halting you from proceeding forward. She loomed over you as she rose to her feet, and a brief surge of fear gripped you as her anger became transparent. Her eyes grew in that sense of possession that flared up everytime she thought you had been with someone else.
“Just can’t keep your legs closed, huh?”
“What is it to you?? What am I to you?? Besides a pussy you can fuck whenever you want because you know I’m so fucking easy.”
She lets go of your wrist, taking her place back down on the edge of the bed.
“She ain’t ever gonna fulfill your needs, princess. You’re too much of a brat.”
“I’m only that way when people bring that shit side outta me! How many times have I made it clear that I wanted you?? And you lured me in just to keep me around at your damn convenience, I’m sick of being your plaything!”
“Well apparently you for everybody now, so I don’t know why you’re so upset.”
Your frustration grew exponentially the more words pooled out of Amari’s mouth, driving you to a point where you could no longer tolerate being around her. You made your way towards the door, opening it with a deep aggravation.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I said leave. I don’t wanna see you.”
She snickers under her breath, making her way towards the door. Before she exits, she pauses at the threshold, turning around to face you as she leans on the doorframe.
“I’ll be at my place when you're done being a bitch.”
You roll your eyes at her, nudging her body out of the door frame before slamming the door in her face. Amari’s laugh rings through the door causing a shiver down your spine.
“Ain’t no way some nerd gonna fuck that pussy better than I can, y/n!,” she yells through the door. You exhale in relief, grateful to finally be alone.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
As 7pm approaches, you prepare yourself, donning a stylish two-piece pajama set that accentuates your figure just right, revealing the perfect hint of cleavage without appearing overly eager. You gathered your curls to the top of your head in a pineapple hairstyle and lightly applied makeup to rejuvenate your complexion. When the doorbell chimed, excitement surged through you, though you tempered your emotions. You opened the door to Shuri wearing a modest smile. You welcomed her inside, noticing a hint of weariness and sadness in her eyes, but you chose to ignore it for the time being.
“Hey y/n,” she said, and you most definitely noticed her eyes trail to your chest for a split second.
“Oh my god, thank you so much Shuri for rescheduling, some shit happened earlier and I just couldn’t fucking make it, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok.”
The evening progressed with Shuri assisting you, fulfilling her usual role, yet an inevitable tension filled the room, causing your muscles to tense, a sensation you were able to contain. Shuri, on the other hand, struggled to maintain her composure, her voice quivering and her hands trembling with increase as the study session unfolded. Although she helped you as she normally would, her words were briefer than usual, and you couldn't help but detect a subtle undertone of attitude in her words. You allowed the tension to soak up a bit more, until you realized you had both reached your limit.
“Shuri, baby, what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
Of course she was going to play dumb.
“Don’t give me that. Don’t act like you ain’t got a little attitude right now, you think I don’t notice? Shuri, you’re shaking.”
Shuri looked away, purposefully avoiding both you and your question, seemingly hoping that you would relent and let the matter go. But she should have been aware by now that you were persistent in getting what you want…almost always. Determined, you firmly clasped her jaw, gripping her chiseled face tightly, as if to convey that this should be the final instance of reminding her to maintain eye contact when speaking to you.
“Shuri, my eyes are here. How many fucking times do I got to force your eyes on me?”
She trembled within your grasp, your signal to loosen your grip on her.
“Now talk to me…what the fuck is your problem?”
You let go of her as she takes a sharp inhale. “I saw her…come out of your dorm earlier…what-why was she here?”
“Who? Amari? Yeah, and what about it?”
“I…why was she there? What even am I to you?”
You erupted into a bitter, cynical laughter, a sound that pierced through the air causing Shuri's entire being to tremble, while her heart sank in despair. The minute you left her side last night, she grew overwhelmed with an intoxicating love for you. Seeing, tasting, touching, smelling and hearing you in the most intimate of ways while you cried out her name made her fall deep. However, arriving at your dorm mere minutes before your scheduled meeting, only to witness Amari exiting your room, shattered her in ways she never thought imaginable.
“Shuri…Shuri be fucking for real,” you finally say, coming back down from your laughter. “What are you to me?? Real question is who do you think you are to me? Cuz you out here acting like we dating just cuz we fucked once, buying me flowers and shit. You need to chill.”
The room fell into an oppressive silence as your words pierced right through her; the sadness, the heartbreak, it was all etched on her face but she knew where you were speaking from. She recognized the source of your words, realizing that you, too, spoke from a place of wounded vulnerability, pouring from a fear of receiving the care and treatment you deserved for far too long now. This understanding resonated within her, for she understood all too well but the impact of your words hurt her, and she grew weary of your indecisive language.
“Where did you put the flowers, y/n?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
“After all I just said, you worried about some damn flowers?? I tossed them in the trash.”
Determined not to shed tears in your presence, Shuri started gathering her belongings, preparing to leave the room and undoubtedly escape from your hurtful presence. It was in that poignant moment that you finally recognized you had overstepped a boundary. As you observed Shuri, you saw yourself reflected in her, witnessing the vulnerability of her shattered heart so openly displayed, just as you had once felt when Amari had treated you similarly. This realization struck you deeply—this time, you were the one inflicting pain, resembling the role Amari had played in your own life.
“Wait…Shuri, please. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t dare turn around while she continued to slip on her shoes, determined to leave through the door and leave you behind forever. Despite your initial resistance, you couldn't help but allow your guard to crumble, impulsively rushing towards her and enveloping her in a tight embrace. The intensity of the hug was so overwhelming that it felt as though your ribs might just crack under the pressure.
“What are you doing, y/n?”
“Please don’t go. I’m just…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Shuri.” You loosened your grip, wrapping your arms around her neck as she looked down at you. “Just…please don’t leave. Please.”
In a fleeting moment, soft glances were exchanged, and Shuri's eyes involuntarily drifted down to your lips, though she attempted to make it not seem so.
“You wanna kiss me, baby?”
She nodded.
“Then do it.”
She paused for a moment before pressing her lips into yours. Both of you embraced each other with a deep intensity, as if you had both yearned for this moment with equal longing, and as if it was a moment you wished to hold onto indefinitely. She grabbed your thigh, wrapping it around her waist as she drove herself deeper into the kiss, pulling a moan out of you that drove her insane. She was wet, absolutely salivating over you and you needed her. All of her. You wanted to hear her, taste her in the most intimate of ways. She picked you up, gently placing you back onto your bed. You wrapped your legs around her, trapping her body into yours as you continued to consume one another through heated kisses.
“I…I have something for you,” she admitted.
“Yeah? And would that be?”
“I-I want to try something…with you…if you’re ok with it.”
“I’m down for anything, my love. Just tell me what you need.”
Shuri's body shuddered against you at the choice of your words, "my love." She was aware of the potential regrets that may come from surrendering herself to you wholeheartedly, uncertain of the person you would be tomorrow but the power of your words and the warmth of your embrace compelled her to cast aside her concerns and fully surrender to you, embracing this ephemeral moment where you belonged to one another.
“I made a…a…strap.”
You raised an eyebrow at her. “You made one? You did not...”
“I did though. I made it so I can feel you like it was my own, I’ll be able to feel you wrapped around me.”
Her words ignited a warmth within you, causing your heart and pussy to pound in unison, your body aching to feel her. In that moment, she became your genius, playing with fire as she brought her invention into the picture. With a gentle touch, you caressed her face and she relished in the lingering embrace between you both.
“My poor princess, I’ve corrupted you…haven’t I?”
Her face wore a smile that was impossible for her to suppress, ridding herself of her clothes while securing her strap around her waist. She gracefully leaped onto the bed, resting her back against the headboard and the sight of her made your already dampened folds even more so, adding to the throb that coursed between your thighs. Her dark skin was flawless, her breasts impeccably placed on her chest, and it was no secret that she had put a meticulous effort into the details of her strap as it was visually apparent.
“Take off your clothes y/n…please. I wanna see you.”
You obliged, removing yourself from your pajama set but keeping your undergarments on. You made your way towards her, wrapping your hand around her dick as you began to pump slowly and sensually causing her to breathe in sharply at the sudden contact. Your unwavering gaze penetrated deep into her soul, forcing a fragile moan to fall from her vulnerable lips.
“How many times a day do you think about me Shuri?,” you ask, your voice seeping in lust as you proceed to stroke her. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “Don’t be shy…tell me.”
“A…a lot.”
“Mhmmm…and what are we doing when you think about me?”
It was obvious she was trying to hold back, fighting inevitable moans that fought to escape the depths of her throat yet this only fueled you to pump her harder.
“Answer me when I’m talking to you baby.”
“Mmm, unh…we…we’re naked.”
“Don’t be shy, tell me what we’re doing.”
A soft whimper escapes her lips as your strokes push through her, revealing her struggle to maintain composure and hold herself together.
“I’m fucking you…with my dick.” Those were the most provocative words that have ever escaped her lip, a captivating melody to your ears that compelled you to keep going.
“There you go, my dirty fucking girl…was that so hard?”
She shakes her head back and forth as she finally lets her guard down, softly moaning at the throbbing sensation that coursed through her strap, pushing it back into her clit. You slowly caress her dick downwards, until your hand is wrapped at the base of her, leaving room for you to pull the rest of her into your mouth. You graze her tip with your tongue, circling around her and her breathing quickens. You waste no time pulling her all the way in, sucking on her while your hand works the base of her.
“Y/n…unh.”
Her moans began to escalate beyond her inability to swallow them down. This is exactly how you wanted her; helpless, wiggling under your control as you worked her through it. You push your mouth down on her, choking as your throat closes in around her girth. You felt everything, every twitch and every throb grazed the inside of your mouth only pushing you to keep going. Drool poured out of your mouth as her size blocked your airways, gagging and choking sounds coming from your throat as you sucked her like you hate her.
“Shit y/n…ah…bast.”
In that moment, she disregarded any concern for the intensity of her actions and the assault she had on your throat, fully immersed in the experience without regard for the impact it had on you. Your wet strokes and pumps sent her over the edge, a rhythmic wave-like sensation surged through her dick reaching towards her tender tip. She grabbed your curls, gently guiding your head to reach further, causing you to immediately gag as her tip hit the back of your throat.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” she manages to say between her breathy moans, but you kept going with no intention to stop until she spilled into your mouth. She created its size with true intention, wanting to feel you wholly and fully as she spread you open. She loved the way you looked, the way your mouth was so full of her and how your mascara poured down your cheeks as you maneuvered between sucking and choking below her.
“I’m…y/n I’m so close. Please don’t stop…please. Mmmm, ah.”
“Cum for me baby, spill into my mouth.”
Immediately, Shuri’s moans pierce your ears, an erotic scream filling the air as her thick cum poured into the back of your throat. You swallowed every drop of her, licking her tip dry as she wailed in pleasure.
“Shit y/n…oh my…ah-ohmygod!”
Your tongue swirls around her tip a few moments longer, and even though the sensation was overwhelming her, she allowed you to proceed. She let out a whimper, teetering on the edge of tears due to the slight overstimulation, yet the mere sight of you provided the strength to push through it. You bring your face up to meet hers, immediately pushing your tongue into her mouth as she tastes herself.
“You taste delicious,” you hummed. “What else do you wanna do with this?,” you ask, proceeding to stroke her with your hands. She doesn’t answer, instead shaking her head left and right frantically, her tip becoming so swollen with the way you continue to caress her.
“I…I can’t.”
“Ssshhh, yes you can princess, you can. You’re ok. Just tell me what you want.”
“Unh.”
“I can’t give you what you want if you don’t use your words, baby.”
She bit her bottom lip, holding back a quaking moan that sat on the edge of her tongue, overwhelmed with your words as your hand remained around her, squeezing just enough to soothe and intensify all at once.
“Y-y/n…I..unh…”
You grabbed her throat, pressing firmly into her windpipe that caused her to gasp and you smiled. You couldn't help but feel a deep admiration for the delicate and vulnerable appearance she presented in front of you, surrendering herself entirely to your control.
“Quit all that whimpering Shuri, talk to me. I wanna hear you say it.”
“I w-want you to f-fuck me. Please, y-y/n,” she struggled to respond between her trembling and your hand firmly wrapped around her throat.
“That’s a good girl…my pretty fucking princess.”
You let go of her throat, causing her to cough and you smirked at the sight. You took off your undergarments, leaving you entirely naked and open for Shuri’s gaze. You leaned back, opening your legs for her display and she practically salivated over the sheen dew that glazed your dark folds, paving way to the fleshy color that hid underneath. She attempted to crawl towards you, eager to rub you with her tip but you closed your legs instantly, pressing her back into the headboard behind her. You take your bra, tying her wrists together and she did nothing but let you, because she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you. She did not want you to stop.
“Give me a safe word, Shuri.”
“What?”
“A safeword…come up with one.”
“Tulips.”
“What?”
“T-tulips.”
You chuckled, absolutely drawn into her. You kissed her once more, and she moaned into your mouth.
“You got me fucked up, you know that?”
She nods vigorously.
“Now listen to me baby, I’m not gonna stop fucking you until I hear the word ‘tulips.” If you say ‘stop’, I’m not gonna stop. Do you hear me?”
She nods again and it’s not enough for you. You retaliate by snaking her throat once more, applying a firm pressure into her windpipe.
“Use your words. I wanna hear you, make sure you fully understand what I’m saying.”
“You’re not gonna s-stop fu-fucking me until I say ‘tulips’.”
“Perfect.”
You sling her constricted arms around your neck, her wrists still tied together with your bra as you gently place your pussy on top of her strap, swallowing her whole and you both moaned in unison. Her dick stretched you in ways you had never been before, in ways Amari had never done to you, initially creating a slight burn inside you but the more you bounced, the more your pussy became accustomed to her size. With each movement, you ascended and descended, leaving Shuri in awe as her jaw dropped, overwhelmed by the feel of your tight squeeze.
“Y/n…oh my…fuck.”
“That’s it, my love. Keep doing that. Just….fuck…unh, just let it out for me. Give it all to me.”
Both of you felt each other immensely; you felt her massage your throbbing walls, her tip pressing into your g-spot repeatedly while Shuri whimpered at your clench. Your movements were filthy, deliberate; pressing harder onto her dick with your needy grip. The sight of Shuri before you, completely vulnerable to your movements, was a sight you could cum from alone. Her mouth was open, moaning in her utmost pleasure as she watched the way your breasts bounced with your obscene tempo.
“Y/n…AH…I’m so close. You feel so good. W-wanna fill you up. Fill you u-up so f-fucking bad. Shit.”
She lost her mind the more you squeezed her, her mouth running obscenities in ways it never would if her body were not feeling this abundance of pleasure. She rolls her head back, her eyes following but you grab her chin, forcing her eyes on you.
“Look at me while you’re all fucked up, baby.”
She’s always had trouble with eye contact.
“UNH…y/n! AH.”
“What does it feel like, Shuri? Tell me how my pussy makes you fucking feel…shit.”
“I can-can’t. I can’t!”
“Yes you can…fuck. Yes you can.”
“Mmm.”
Once again, you grab her throat, wrapping both hands around her as you proceed to ride her. Her eyes bulge open, coming back to meet yours without hesitation as she attempts to breathe under your tight grasp. She so desperately wants to clasp your wrists or forearms for support, but her cuffed wrists will not allow it.
“Nod if you’re ok,” you demand for reassurance. She nods.
“Now tell me how I make you feel, Shuri.”
“You make me feel so good, y/n. You make my dick feel so fucking good, ah! I think I’m gonna c-cum.”
“Hold it.”
“I…I can’t, y/n, please.”
“Yes you can…and you will. Now open your mouth nice and wide for me.”
She obliged, her mouth wide open while her tongue sticks out, coated in her saliva, a perfect node for you to stick two of your own fingers down her throat and that’s exactly what you do. Shuri gags, a guttural sound as her throat bobs and it turns you on immensely. You do it again. And again. And she’s crying, tears spilling down her cheeks as your fingers plunge into her throat.
“You’re so beautiful, Shuri,” you moan, sucking harshly on her throat.
“Are y-you…close?”
“Don’t worry about me, baby. Shit…ah. This isn’t about m-me. Focus on you.”
“I’m gonna cum, y/n.”
“I know my love, I know. Go ahead….f-fucking spill for me.”
Shuri let loose a resounding scream, originating deep within her core and erupting from her mouth. Her moans carried a profound weight, echoing with sheer ecstasy, as you absorbed her throbbing dick that grazed your g-spot, her warm cum pouring inside you. It should have served as a warning, a signal to cease the merciless pumps, yet you persisted. Your pussy continued to caress her through it, fucking her until her sight became nothing but a black night. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, delicately clinging to her beautiful lashes at the way your pussy overwhelmed her.
“Bast…Y/n…pl-please. St-stop. UNH.”
“You want me to stop?”
“Mhmm.”
“Then look me in the eyes and tell me to stop.”
Her eyes come back to face you, her lenses stained with her tears that refuse to cease and she says nothing. Sobs rip from her mouth, a second orgasm approaching before she can even climb down from her first one.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Shuri’s heart rate escalates beyond control, her chest tightening as the room around her becomes a blur. She’s panting, moaning as she’s taking it all in. An immense build up of pressure builds up in her dick once more, and she cum’s for the second time.
“Y/N.”
You don’t stop. The third time.
“Fuck! ANH!”
Fourth.
“STOP!”
“Stop?”
“Mhmmm.”
“No.”
You readjust yourself so your back is facing her, giving her the most perfect view of the way your cunt swallows her whole. You’re both so wet, so stained with cum as you proceed your brutal movements. Her hands that were at the back of your neck, are now at the front as she brings one to wrap around your throat for leverage. At this point, you had given up holding your composure of wanting to hold back how she felt inside you because she was heavenly and the more orgasms she had, the more swollen she became, filling you up more and more as her tip repeatedly hit that sensitive patch inside you.
“Fuck Shuri…just right there…r-ight fucking there, baby.”
“Y/n…”
“Mmmm. You’re such a good girl, Shuri. Cum again. Fill me up.”
“Y/N! UNH!”
“SHURI!”
You made no attempt to hide your orgasm this time, allowing yourself to be completely unraveled by her and the way she felt inside you. The blood coursed through your walls, causing you to expand and compress as you moaned through your pleasure. You placed your hand on top of Shuri’s hand, the one that gently compressed your windpipe and you pressed down, wanting her to squeeze harder.
“Choke me, baby. Choke me while I’m cumming for you. Please.”
She swallowed down a sob, but managed to perform the act. Shuri pressed firmly into your throat, forcing drool to pour out of your mouth as she choked you through your orgasm.
“Y-YES. AH!”
“I’m cumming again y/n, I’m cumming!”
Her grip on your throat increased as she suffered through her orgasm, unaware of how much she was restricting your oxygen intake but you were ok with that. As her hold on you is released, you come back around to face her, beginning to ride again in a tempo that shows how tired you truly were.
“S-stop…please.”
“Hmmm…?”
For a moment the room went silent, with nothing but the resounding sloshing of your bodies becoming one down below. She looked so ruined, so completely overtaken by you and your body and she was beautiful. Her eyes were so full of suffering yet so gentle as she took in her last view of the picture you created on top of her. You too were fucked out, mascara ruined and curls no longer as perfectly coiled as they once were but she reveled in the sight of you before she said it:
“T-tulips.”
You exhale. You sat on top of her, holding her as her strap remained inside you and you remained that way until your breathing patterns became somewhat normal. You hopped off slowly and the caress made her flinch.
“You are incredible, Shuri.”
As you release her bound wrists, she flinches at the slight pain. Faint indentations mark her skin where the tight material had pressed into it, and you tenderly plant affectionate kisses on those marks, filled with care and affection.
“You’re so beautiful,” you say, proceeding to kiss her wrists.
“Kiss me,” she begs. “I need you.”
She appeared so desperate, overwhelmingly craving your presence in that moment, and you couldn't help but discreetly roll your eyes and let out a soft chuckle. Not because Shuri's plea bothered you, but because you had come to a realization that you needed her just as deeply.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You wake up to the embrace of unparalleled warmth, experiencing a level of comfort that had been absent from your life for some time. Shuri's tousled curls peek out from beneath the blanket as she lies beside you, her smell now sinking into its fabric. But that feeling was interrupted when you glanced at your phone and see numerous missed calls from Amari and you groaned in frustration as you pulled the blanket back over your head.
“Why is it you keep spending time with her if she makes you feel this way?,” Shuri asked, her voice startling you at first. She turned over to face you, both of you underneath your blanket.
“It’s none of your business, Shuri.”
For a moment, Shuri remained silent, a silence that became unsettling until she finally found her voice and spoke up for the first time.
“Last night you made me tell you what was bothering me, so now it’s your turn. Talk to me, y/n.”
“Uh huh…anyways.”
“Y/n.”
“What?”
“Can I tell you what I think?”
A genuine question, one that you know she’d most likely answer absolutely correctly and the thought bothered you, but you let her proceed anyway.
“Go ahead, Shuri. What will your brilliant mind conjure up this time?,” you say with an attitude causing Shuri to slightly giggle.
“I think you keep Amari around because…she makes you feel wanted just enough to make you stay. I think you’re a little broken, and it’s not your fault, because people keep hurting you. I think…I think you love deeply and passionately but you suppress that part of yourself because no one has ever made you feel the same, and so you dim your light in order to keep yourself from getting hurt again when in reality, all you want is to be loved the way you love.”
You felt a need to sob, to break down in front of her. You wouldn’t allow it, not yet anyway. You pulled yourself from underneath the blanket, and she did the same. She rests her back against your headboard and you straddle her, pulling her in for a kiss.
“And how did you figure all that out,” you say, allowing a feeble tear to escape your eye but you quickly wiped it away.
“I did really well in psychology.”
Her answer made you both laugh, a sound that made you desire her that much more.
“Of course you did, pretty girl…of course you did.”
“You know…you’re the first person to ever call me pretty. No one’s ever told me I was beautiful before.”
“What?? No way.” Your surprise was authentic, for while Shuri may not have been regarded as the epitome of coolness, she was undeniably one of the most breathtaking individuals you had ever encountered. Her visage possessed a divine quality, sculpted for the gods. Her curls sat perfectly on the top of her head, tumbling like a cascading waterfall upon her brow. Her lips were irresistible, difficult to pull away from, yet it was her eyes that captivated you the most. Deep and mysterious, almost concealed by her the frames that surrounded them, yet they always revealed a yearning that didn't go unnoticed by you.
You pull her in for a kiss once more, her lips leaving yours as she begins placing firm pecks into your neck. You grasp her curls, sulking in the way your body heated up at her touch.
“Can I taste you again? Please…”
“Damn…what’d I do to you?”
Shuri chuckles. “You’re so pretty y/n, literally the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
You feel a tear escape your duct once more and you do nothing to stop it.
“You have the most beautiful body, I love your stretch marks and your dimples on your back. And I love your rolls and your thick thighs, and I love how you’re unashamed to show them off. And this face…such a beautiful face.”
“Shuri…”
“And even though you’re mean, I kind of like that too. Because you’re a challenge…and I’m good at those.”
Her words flowed effortlessly, flawlessly woven together. It was a stark contrast to the hesitant, stuttering Shuri you had come to know. This version of Shuri standing before you had no trouble articulating her thoughts, stumbling over no obstacles. She exuded confidence in her desires, and her desire was directed solely at you. She nuzzled her face into the curve of your neck once more, sucking on the skin as she rendered you powerless. No one had ever made you feel this way, making love seem like a genuine and attainable possibility.
“Are you still gonna see Amari? Because I don’t want to have to compete for you…b-but I will if I have to because I want you.”
You remained silent for a moment as tears began shamelessly pooling out of your eyes as you grasp into her, holding her tightly as if it was your last time. A soft sob fell off your lips, pushing your face deeper into the nape of her neck. She smelt so good, a welcoming aroma that began to fog all your senses. Amari was no match for Shuri, there was never a moment you spent with her that made you feel as you’re feeling now with the woman before you at this very moment. Amari was one that only wanted you at her convenience, when you benefitted her, but Shuri…
“I want you, y/n…all the time and all to myself.”
“You don’t have to worry about her anymore, Shuri.”
You pull out your phone and block her immediately, your first sign to Shuri that she would have your full attention.
“Wow…look at you go,” she replies in a sarcastic tone.
“Oh, so you got jokes?”
“I’m actually really funny…you have yet to see that side of me.”
Vulnerability. Not your strongest suit, nor was it the easiest. But you wore it well. To Shuri, you looked beautiful, a testament to yourself that your heart was still as big and radiant as it once was, even after the numerous hurt you’ve endured that seemed to weather you down. And Shuri loved you, wanted to show you what it meant to feel as such, and for the first time in a long time, your shield of protection had been set aside as you allowed your tears to flow freely in expression of how much you absolutely loved her. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡
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Prompts used by @pocketsizedpanther were:
Using Shuri’s throat as leverage while reader rides her
Tying her down and overstimulating her
671 notes · View notes
kiame-sama · 15 days
Note
I wouldn’t use the term ‘Stupid’ for Malleus, rather he’s more unfamiliar with certain things since to Fae (Especially the very long living kind) time is much different to them compared to Non-Fae species (As Sebek did mention Briar Valley isn’t technologically up to date like how modern society is)
I believe Malleus mentioned before how Society tends to change ‘Rapidly’ during lessons (When it’s been a decade or a century)
It makes complete sense in the Monster AU for Malleus not to realize Reader was a human until Lilia explained it to him (Regardless it doesn’t make him any less cute)
I find Malleus cute when he’s unfamiliar with certain subjects as it adds a certain charm to him OR when he takes pride talking about things he does know, like Gargoyles (I always lovingly refer to him as a ‘Goober’ whenever he does anything cute, silly or dramatic)
I wrote this because I think your doing a fantastic job writing for Malleus (My favorite part is how you write him being protective of the ones he loves)
Thank you! My mans literally had no idea that sensitive technology was not supposed to get wet and would possibly stop working when wet (Lab-wear Malleus Vignette).
In my monster AU, Humans are basically the equivalent of Mastodons or Dodos. They went extinct several centuries before Malleus emerged from his egg. Sure, there is some information about Humans but not all of it is true (Hence why I had Riddle give three 'rules' where one was nonsense (humans can eat pigs regardless of genetic closeness), one made sense (don't boil or freeze your human if you want them to live), and one that was purely opinion based (humans have no true set mating rituals) to show that even if Humans once existed, they are basically legends and myth at the time of the story).
Malleus basically saw a bird's nest- with an unusual looking baby bird (so he assumed) inside the nest- and went "yeah, that's more than likely a baby bird right there" instead of going "That is a Pteranodon". He saw a creature laying beneath a Human-based Gargoyle that looks somewhat like the Gargoyle (since it was a Human gargoyle, after all), and he assumed the Human was a Gargoyle instead of making a leap of logic to an extinct and lesser known species he had never encountered before.
TWST literally has living stone Gargoyles in the universe (looking at you Nobel Bell College Gargoyles) so he would be more likely to assume these Gargoyles are living and just don't want to talk to him, instead of automatically believing what he just found was an extinct/mythical creature. If anything, he accepted Lilia's knowledge far too quickly given the fact Lilia just told him something that no longer existed was sleeping in his nest.
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shuamorollss · 11 months
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unfortunate unexpectations — l.hs x f!reader
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In an everyday attempt to avoid the man you eternally loath. Of course, the universe isn't always by your side as you accidentally reach a dead end, with no other choice but to dance with him.
romcom, regency era, enemies2lovers, just cute bickering warnings— not proofread, first time writing this kind of trope pls bear with me. 2.6k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!
author's note— I'm back again with another piece ( I'll disappear for a few months after this)! I wrote this exactly on Hee's bday but I only decided to post it now since i didn't really feel satisfied with this when i finished this a few days ago :/ i still don't so I may delete this when I'm in the mood to make changes ^_^ BUT HERE IT IS!! Happy belated birthday to my hubby wubby @Heeseung 😅❤️❤️
perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon
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"Would you be so kind and get that for me?"
Oh how annoying. You thought, gently tricking your finger up to block your ears and releasing in an instant, wanting the bothering itchiness to fade. His arms stretched beside you reaching to the the man holding a tray with glasses of wine.
Oh how you knew he did it intentionally.
Heeseung's boldness to give you an order was extraordinary, baffling even. You were not in a higher position than him, and he wasn't much higher than you, though he was just there, and heeseung didn't want to play the "he was just there" role in your life. He always feels the need to spite you at any given time, similar to a cricket making noises while you attempt to sleep.
Though much to his dismay, you certainly do show his own place as just a nobody in your existence; to which he never seems to catch the hint of your unintrestment.
Or he might do, only walking in and out of your life in terms of spitting utter nonsense to your peace.
Honestly, it did work. It made you fume and it certainly made you want to do more than just give out the usual glare and other threatening expressions to the other.
You turn around with utter confidence, meeting the man's eyes unbothered. Your eyes observed his structure, his unfortunately dashing attire, and his pretentious face.
As you check out the details of his sleeves, your eyes darted to Heeseung's exact shift of expression, smirking.
It was certainly expected, yet so mind flaming. You'd rather just explode right then and there than to keep up with whatever he wants to pull to you.
"You know, if a lady looks at someone from head to toe for too long it must mean that they yearn for that someone." He lets out a prideful scoff, eyes mockingly going through you as he sips from the wine glass.
Disbelief in what you heard, you halted your eyes from any further notice. Proceeding to roll your eyes at the man who had unknowingly tinted your cheeks red.
"Don't be silly, I was looking at your outfit. Actually baffling but not surprising for you to wear something so… Eye-vomiting." you spit. Twirling against his view and proceeding to waltz away from his standing figure, not setting a single glance at the man behind you. A fuming smoke sets up your chest at the realization of what you had just done to that awful of a man.
You explore more of the manor by yourself, enthralled by every piece of art plastered on the clean walls. You found an inner piece at the volume of the hallway, no noble bands performing and people crowding the room as they tap their feets and hearts out, it is truly a wonder to feel.
"Lady Y/N!"
Of course, every pinch of euphoria has their cut to its end, as one of your acquaintances calls you out.
"Oh, Lady… Lily? Was it?" You asked softly and loudly, as the woman clicked her heels towards you.
The girl smiles, "Oh yes! Though please, just call me Li."
"Alright, Lady Li."
For moments to what felt like hours, chit-chatting with Lady Li as you both walk around the manor corridors. The both of you had now reached your very destination which was the party itself that you so desperately want to be separated with.
You timidly smile at the girl beside you, eyes widened agitatedly at the crowd. "Uhm, Lady Li," The other nodded, her eyes also seemed to be searching through the sea of nobles.
"Why did we decide to return to this room?"
Lily simpers her smile as her eyes turn fixated on one figure, "There he is!— Thank you so much Lady Y/N for keeping me company through the manor." She gives you thanks, walking away with delight eventually linking arms with a man who Lady Li might have been searching for. great.
Another woman infested with men's validation, how unfortunate.
Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the couple in disbelief, letting out a brief sigh at the thought of almost every woman here might be just like that.
"Feeling all bitter now, are we Lady Y/N?", you trembled at the sensation of his teasing breath tickling your ear.
"What on— oh... it's you again."
"The one and only." Heeseung lets out a ridiculous triumphant smile, the smile that makes you feel itchy in all aspects of your body, it was extremely bothersome reaching to the point you would rip your hair out to the unspeakable rage you feel for the male.
"Don't make that face now, a real lady doesn't do that, well— that is, if you are even a lady." He chuckled, always digging deeper into your little actions in an attempt to reach you to the edge. How delightful.
"Your words remind me so much of my younger brother's pitiful counters." You face the opposite once more, your heartbeat slowing down at each step you take far from Heeseung, hoping to have a similar instance from earlier to happen once more.
Unfortunately, the things one desires don't really happen twice. As you hear the footsteps of the man through the crowded noise, the only shattered expectation you wish did not.
"Oh so I remind you of your family now? How thoughtful." His smirk added to his audacious response that could be sensed at such a distance you didn't even know was possible without even taking another look.
"It means you're just as annoying as my brother, don't take it as a compliment."
"I presume older sisters still love their annoying brothers nevertheless, so that must mean you secretly feel that way for me too if I remind you so much of your annoying brother."
"Oh how great, you can go stay in your own personal pride zone Mr. Lee, though that zone, will tell you to cut it out very soon."
"I doubt that, I think I can sense what's true and not true."
"Being ever so ethical now, aren't you?"
"You know what they say… I am that of a gentleman."
"Well so ethical now anymore, 'cause, you see… you claim to be a gentleman which in fact is ridiculously wrong, no, you're not a gentleman."
"Okay lady, I figured that was a mouthful to sneer."
Your eyes widened, subconsciously sighing aggravatingly, utterly lost of the others' words. "Please don't follow me."
"I'm not following you."
"You are? Don't make me feel stupid."
"I don't think I'm doing that."
You continued to walk further and further, you don't know where, it could be just anywhere to be out of this man's grasp.
not even reaching an uncomfortable minute of making your way, Heeseung finally made it way up to you for god-know-what reason.
Only a few more threads left to untangle until you implode, besides showing this man what you're capable of doing, you weren't about to do anything in front of hundreds of people.
You swiftly turn to face the man following, "Look Mr. Lee, don't even attempt to come and step closer—" the hissy grin never ever fading from his look. Before you snap even further, you raise your head as the lights suddenly turn dim, the current music start to tone down as the band plays a new mellow romance.
The both of you faced your worries, silently questioning the sudden change of atmosphere.
"Now, it is time for the party where the gentleman… dances with the first lady they set their eyes on, Amuse-toi bien!"
..
.
His eyes were on you, and yours on him. Slowly developing the idea you most certainly would refuse to believe.
"No." You shook your head promptly with no hesitation.
"Y/N."
"No, don't even"
"Y/N—"
"No. Not ever. Never in my life. Never in a millennia. You can serve the mediocrity of mediocrity— I am not even paying attention to what I'm saying, but just so you know, I am not dancing with you."
You groaned continuously at his spews, this chit chatter going nowhere at all. Heeseung was also growing exhausted of your opposed responses. Hearing your never ending hatred for him is never known to him, although being in this position during an all rounded dance segment, he was not about to embarrass himself in front of such nobilities.
"Y/N just—" His hand abruptly slid up your waist sending your internal nerves through every stage of shockwaves.
"What are you—" Your words began to halt from his tightened grip, slowly putting power on pulling you closer… and closer… too close to say the least.
"Just this once, we don't want to leave a bad impression at a party we're just mere visitors at." His breath fanned your neck and sent shivers down your spine. Truly a feeling between his embrace that you have never felt before.
Too much of a guilt to even feel, considering this is the man you swore your whole life to loath yet here you are. No other way of escape out of this man's grasp, other than to spend a minute and more with him following the melodious rhythm serenading within the whole room.
"Fine. This doesn't change the fact that I want to scar my name on your face."
"How romantic." His lips curved sarcastically, eyes shifts into pure mockery as it lays on you. You couldn't say if you were teased by his softly menacing gaze or comforted by it. Eitherway, you couldn't register the right words.
"Besides," Heeseung continues, eyes darting away from yours, looking elsewhere within the ballroom, suddenly a light flashes your vision, snapping you back to your current position, right in front of Lee Heeseung.
"I don't even think we could get away from this anyway, we're literally in the middle of the dance floor." His head shifts in every direction to deem his assumption correct, which you mirrored.
It's true, the both of your are really in the middle of the ballroom.
You felt blockage on your throat, as if your vocal chords refused to spit words out of your mouth. The close proximity between you and Heeseung felt extremely new, you wanted to escape it so quickly yet, quite in a state of culture shock of his careful and kind demeanor as his every step to the rhythm of the music are seemingly careful not to make a mistake or you could say in other words, step on you.
The distance soothes, your hands still intact as the both of you walk in circles. His gaze locked onto you as if a man had seen the beauty of the moon for the very first time. He was allured, not only to the sight of your eyes but also your entire attire.
Who was he kidding? He was making fun of how you looked earlier, or was it you who taunted his? Even he couldn't remember. What is this contact causing him?
His eyes followed the direction of your eyes shifting all the way to your linked hands rising, following the rhythm and everyone else's. Only then Heeseung was able to return to his composure.
Being quiet with you didn't exactly make him feel like himself. It's indeed a peculiar case, his eyes fixated on your focused figure attempting for a thought, any words, any attacks, frankly quite anything.
"I feel conceived Lady Y/N," He started, your eyes now transferring to the man.
"Did you walk all the way here on purpose just to lure me in this dance?" He smirks, deeply hoping he did not look ridiculous in your eyes, which in fact, he did look ridiculous to you, though in basic sense, he always does.
You scoffed, "Don't be such a crude, I was walking away from you, or if you didn't understand that, I was escaping you. however, you followed me. If anything, you expected this dance to happen beforehand." You sneered at your words, feeling vastly proud of regaining the upper hand.
"Now now, shifting the blame onto me?" He jokingly asked, swaying forward and backward, then continuing to circle in unison.
"Well, I couldn't be wrong." Your raised your brows at the man, receiving a tuneful chuckle.
"You're ever so ethical now aren't you?"
you scoffed, "Touché."
After a few warm-hearted rhythms, the distance slowly basking in, his hand starts to tenderly slide from your hand up to your shoulder. Now facing your back at a dangerously close proximity. The way his fingertips barely made contact onto your skin yet it still tickled, sending you into unreasonable wonders.
Lee Heeseung? Sending you to unreasonable wonders?
"What if I tell you that I really expected this dance to happen and followed you to be able to have this dance with you?" he breathes out.
Your mind stood place, frozen. It couldn't function solely because of those words.
You knew this was his tactic of his obvious teasing yet... that had sent your heart into places you did not expect for it to reach. Your breathing abruptly stopping at every emphasis you place into his words.
It wasn't any different for the man, he was hellishly anxious.
The way his hand stood still on your shoulder, then slowly sliding it down to your hand the same thing he had done at the start. He felt crazy, he couldn't grasp the feeling whether he's disgusted at this contact or was it, satisfactory?
Heeseung's breath unawaringly hitched in unison to yours.
The high-rising tension the both of you are desperate to escape yet… would embrace it more long.
As Heeseung's hand reached your hand, the distance once more soothes, or did soothe for you? Did it to him?
One spin had the same closeness return, now you two are entirely facing each other.
How did this moment feel too slow? normally the dance routine did not walk this type of pace before, usually it happens quickly before the music finally comes to its end.
The silence echoed immediately through the other's ears, having the slight worry of gkving you discomfort.
Worried? Heeseung, really?
Heeseung lets himself battle his own internal conflicts as the outer silence continued. You were in a desperate measure of developing a genius idea for a comeback yet none came into mind. The unexplained whimsical threw you off, the fact this man had to send you in this type of frenzy was never in your lists of expectations.
Yet now, at this very moment, changed your very view on your surroundings.
All because of this very man you swore to loath ever since his eyes laid on you.
One last twirl to the maiden as the band's instruments faded into the void, completing the romantic waltz.
As everyone in the middle applauded their elegant and coordinated routine just now, both you and heeseung processed your breathledd tension just earlier.
Finally having all the words reached the right parts of your brain, finally having control of your conscious, your hatred to the man came back with it.
"Aww, you really do feel deep adoration for me, Lee Heeseung." you politely curtsied. contrasting to the tone of your voice, as you reply to the man's words from a few minutes back.
Heeseung lets out a chuckle, "You know what? Maybe I do have a thing for such abominations."
"Haha. Aren't you a clever guy." You gave him a wide infuriating smile, as you turn around walking away from his presence, now leaving the man at the middle of the dance floor.
It was a peculiar state for you. You swore you completely lie instense hatred for the man, yet now you're smiling at his mere words that usually drives you to banging your head on the wall, sometimes the urge to bang his head on the wall.
Yet what happened just earlier felt, extremely out of place, something you couldn't quite explain for the time being.
You were conflicted about being bothered by it.
How it bothered your feelings, bothered you deeply.
A memory that surely the both of you would engrave in later lifetime.
.
..
...
"Wow, she called me clever."
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© seungiepup. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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kimsohn · 2 years
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in each other's arms
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pairing . roommates! mingi x gn reader about . 3k+ words, fluff warnings . i have an unhealthy obsession with writing when i’m sleep-deprived take this as you will. i also don’t write long fics so i’m super sorry in advance. reader has a thing for mingi’s arms (who doesn’t), there is cursing involved, slight mentions of alcohol, reader calls mingi annoying and stupid a couple of times but it’s endearingly, this is not proofread yolo
synopsis . you don’t understand why your roommate is suddenly afraid of the dark, but maybe offering him space to sleep next to you wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had. note . wrote this for a secret santa fic and decided to post here as well! i don't really stan ateez but writing this has definitely made me some sort of mingi stan 😭 also this was inspired by this episode of curious george, not crucial to understand the fic but definitely helpful
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You’re not quite sure how your roommate grew so accustomed to watching Curious George episodes every night, but it’s become a, to put simply, very distracting routine.
Returning home from work to find Mingi, part-time barista and your personal full-time teddy bear, watching a TV show wasn’t uncommon. Heck, customer service jobs were so horrible that even you would settle in front of the screen for the remainder of the day. You’d often walk in on a new Netflix series and even indulge in them with him, humming soundtracks while you both made dinner together or fall asleep cuddling to the end credits of each episode.
It was all fine until he found a Curious George playlist on YouTube with all 15 seasons, and being a nonsensically endearing child at heart, he’d made it his personal mission to cycle through all of them. Initially, it was nostalgic for you too, but after one too many times of seeing the stupid monkey and his yellow-adorned caretaker, you’d opt to crash in your banana-less bed after dinner instead.
Nights often end like this one, with you drifting into slumber and the glaring light of the TV screen peeking into your room underneath the door. Neither of you was that bothered by the change in routine anyway; you got more sleep and he got his screen time. Being roommates, understanding each other was key in your relationship, and although things were slightly different, the silent compromise was enough to keep the peace between you.
Or at least, it was enough until you hear three knocks on your bedroom door and a slight knob turn.
“Y/N? Are you awake?”
The whisper takes a while to register in your half-asleep state, and at the realization of his scared tone, you force yourself to shift into a sitting position before responding.
“Mingi? What’s wrong?”
He tiptoes into the room, turning on the light. The bright contrast from your previously dark room makes your eyes close instinctively, your pupils adjusting to Mingi’s blurry figure.
“Promise you won’t think I’m stupid?” he asks, an attentive gaze in his eyes.
The comment makes you laugh as you patted your bed, beckoning him onto the soft surface.
“You’ve been stupid to me, dumbass. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
He shuffles on the pillows, leaning in closer to whisper to you despite no one else being in the house.
“I think there are monsters in my room.”
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“Okay, let me get this straight. You watched a Curious George episode about him seeing shadow monsters in his room, and now you think they’re in your room too?”
You can see the pout on his face intensify as he turns all the lights on while walking to his room. You knew the episode he was talking about, the one where the monkey started envisioning oddly shaped shadows as monsters only to later learn they were just figments of his imagination, but you didn’t think it would affect your roommate that badly.
“No! Don’t turn on the light,” he exclaims as you screw open his doorknob, despite the rest of the house being engulfed in light because of his phobia.
“Why not?” you question, watching the door creak open and stepping into the room, pulling him along with you so he won’t run away.
“Look,” he points at an oddly shaped lump, “you can’t tell me that isn’t some evil slug out to get me.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s just—”
“And over there,” he beckons to a tall, conical structure, “that is literally an evil Christmas tree. I’m 100% sure we’re about to die.”
You sigh as you flick on the lights, your suspicions being confirmed.
“Did you even think to turn on the light? These so-called ‘monsters’ are just your pile of dirty laundry that I’ve been begging you to wash and your coat rack that I still can’t comprehend being in this room and not the doorway.”
“You’re right but,” he moves to turn off the light again, “why do they look so different in the dark? They’re shapeshifting! I’m not insane Y/N, just trust me.”
At this point, you’re too mentally and physically exhausted to even care about his antics. In some other period of time, you would’ve indulged his nightmares, but right now it’s far past your bedtime and the only thing on your mind is a long, relaxing sleep.
“Fine. You can sleep in my room tonight. I don’t have stupid coat racks or dirty laundry in my room for you to be scared of, and we can turn on the little night light I still have from third grade. Got it?”
You pretend not to notice the silent cheer he lets out behind your back as you make the trek back to your part of the building, killing the lights as you go. Mingi keeps an arm on your shoulder, and you notice he keeps his gaze on the wall beside him to avoid any potential shapeshifters in the living room.
After a thorough inspection of your room, Mingi deduces that there are indeed no shadow monsters. By then you’re already half asleep, curling into the right side so his hunk of a body has room.
“You sure this is okay?” he questions, stretching his arms and yawning.
Your tired gaze glazes over the ripples of his lean muscles illuminated by your snowman night light before answering with a nod, and you grumble when he flops on the bed and steals too much of your blanket.
“C’mere,” he voices, making grabby hands, “I miss cuddling with you.”
You make the meanest face possible and flip over to the other side, turning away from his seemingly shocked face.
“Wake me up for cuddles when you stop acting like a baby and grow a pair.”
And as you drift into slumber, despite your warnings you still feel the soft weight of his arm curl around your torso, sending you into the sweetest dreams full of fantastical butterflies.
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The next night, Mingi is knocking at your door again, albeit a couple of hours earlier than yesterday. He doesn’t even have to speak before you’re glaring at him, hands crossed in annoyance.
“I’m not letting you sleep here again. You stole too much of my blanket last time.”
You don’t mention to him that you had the best sleep of your life.
“That’s why I brought a blanket!” he exclaims, holding up his polka-dot fuzzy bedspread, “I also brought some popcorn so we can watch a movie on your shitty computer.”
Screw him for being thoughtful, and screw him for wearing the same brand of tank top that he did yesterday. Were his muscles always this prominent, or was it your nightlight making you see things?
“Shitty computer?” you repeat, threatening to close the door in his face.
“No! No… I think you misheard. I love your classic, old computer.”
His grin intensifies as you let him in, snapping the nightlight on and setting up the movie on your computer that is indeed shitty. The overheating of the device makes you turn away from his knowing smirk, and as the starting scenes flash across the blue light screen, you reach for the popcorn, only for him to move it out of your reach.
“Can we cuddle now at least? I meant it when I said I missed it.”
You don’t say anything in response, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, but your hand does reach over to grab a kernel, giving him the green light to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You know that if you refused, he would bring up the embarrassing fact of how you woke up curled into his arm, and you weren’t really in the mood to fight a blush on your cheeks.
“You know, I don’t understand why you’re still scared of the dark when Curious George clearly overcomes his fear at the end of the episode.”
“He does?”
You turn to look at him, confused.
“Did you not finish the episode?”
“I haven’t touched the show since the beginning of that episode. I’m scarred.”
You still believe that this is some sort of sick prank Mingi has been playing on you because there’s no way a 23-year-old man would be this frightened over a figment of his imagination. However, it means you don’t have to bear the stupid ape’s squeaky voice as you fall asleep, so you take the win.
“You know you can’t keep sleeping in my room like this. Why don’t you just clear your room so you won’t be afraid anymore?”
“I like the organized chaos.”
“Oh yeah? The organized chaos that shapeshifts into your worst nightmares?”
“So they do shapeshift! See Y/N, I’m not crazy.”
He is crazy, but the way his arm feels around your shoulder is enough to make you stay quiet as you shovel popcorn into your mouth and watch the movie blur before your eyes.
You awake to find yourself in the same position, and although your head is awkwardly and painfully resting in the crook of Mingi’s shoulder, you find that you once again have garnered a good night’s sleep.
Although you can only see the side of his face, his frame is so beautiful that you can’t help but melt into a puddle of nothingness. The sunlight peeking in from the gaps of your blinds illuminates his face in rays so perfectly, and you have the urge to brush his orange-stained hair behind his ears to gain a better view.
Mingi has always been breathtakingly beautiful. You met him a couple of years ago in college, bonding over the uncertainty of where your future would take you. Ending up together in this small yet comfortable apartment together was something you hadn’t expected, but something you’re learning not to take for granted. His silly quirks and endearing behavior are like a magnet, and it’s hard to not have feelings for someone whom you’re so domestic with every day, but you both are busy with your own lives and have never had time to properly explore those feelings.
Falling asleep in each other’s arms is the closest form of intimacy you’ve shared with him, and you’ve learned to cherish and be grateful for it.
Knowing that both of you are bound to end up with a crick in your necks if you stay in this position any longer, you slowly shake him awake, pushing away your thoughts as you feel him stir underneath your palm.
“Mingi, wake up. You’re going to kill me with your complaints if you wake up with sore limbs.”
“I like sleeping in your arms,” he grumbles, and it’s a little too obvious how your heart constrains at the words.
“I know, but I promise you’d feel much better if you slept properly on the bed. I’ll reward you with an amazing breakfast, I promise.”
The mention of food has him relaxing in your arms, and you move so that he’s sleeping normally against the pillow. The thoughts of waking up next to him and cooking breakfast for him are all very normal, but they’re so domestic that it has your early-morning mind go haywire at the implications.
You tell your brain to shut up and get off the bed to make breakfast before Mingi cusses you out.
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Mingi appears in your bed the next day, the day after that, and many more days after that. At this point, your room has now become a shared room, and Mingi has become a prominent figure in your sheets. Hell, your pillows have even started to smell like him, and you don’t know whether you find it annoying or endearing.
A smaller part of your brain, one that you choose to push aside, fears that you’ve grown too attached to this routine. Sure, before Mingi’s monkey infatuation you’ve woken up next to each other on an occasional morning, arms sore from accommodating each other on the sofa, but you’ve never continuously spent nights with him in the same space regularly like this. Now that the routine has become more frequent, the atmosphere has gone from friendly to something else, and you don’t particularly know if you want to uncover it yet.
Besides, sleeping in the same bed is normal for roommates… right?
“Y/N, sleeping in the same bed with an attractive bachelor that just so happens to be your roommate is definitely not normal.”
Okay, so San agrees to disagree.
“I’m being serious,” he says, shaking you by the shoulder, “you’re going to end up catching feelings, and it’ll either end up with you heartbroken and apartment-less or you getting a new boyfriend. There is a fifty-fifty chance. Don’t risk it.”
You turn to look at Mingi across the room, dressed up in a silk shirt and slacks. His hair is styled in that annoying not-so-styled-but-still-styled manner, and it makes you want to run your fingers through it. Badly. Seeing him sleeveless in the mornings is bad enough, but seeing him cleaned up at a mutual friend’s birthday party makes you want to go feral.
“You should’ve given me that warning before he started sleeping next to me,” you mumble under your breath, but unfortunately San is perceptive, and nothing escapes his ears.
“Great. I can’t believe you already have feelings for him. You’re done for at this point. What is he even so scared of anyway that has him crying in your arms every night?”
You explain the details with a frown on your face, not wanting to mull over any possible rejection you might get from Mingi.
“Oh,” San starts.
“Oh?”
“That changes everything.”
You stare at San with a perplexed gaze, prompting him to elaborate.
“Look, Mingi is stupid, but do you really think he’s that stupid? Come on Y/N, even if he was scared of the dark, he would’ve gotten over it in three days.”
You hit him on the shoulder, causing him to yelp.
“Don’t play with me San,” you berate, watching him clutch the area you just hit, “why else would he be sleeping in my room if he wasn’t scared?”
“The same reason you started having feelings for him! Because you both enjoy waking up next to each other and being together. He likes you Y/N.”
The words drift around in your brain, and you process them for a couple of seconds before glaring at San.
“If he liked me, he would’ve told me.”
“That’s what you think. But do you really know him that well if you couldn’t even figure out the reason he’s been sleeping next to you? What if he’s just scared to tell you?”
San has a point, but you don’t want to admit it. As you watch Mingi beckon you over to try some food on the counter and likely force you to shovel down a disgusting combination of food, you and San share a mutual glance to stop talking about the topic.
However, as you walk over, you can’t help your brain from overanalyzing everything that shouldn’t be. The way he smiles too brightly at you, the way he holds your arm gently as he tugs you over, and the way he keeps you hydrated throughout the night make your head spin. Everything normal suddenly seemed different, and you didn’t know if the change was welcome or not.
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Later that night, when you and Mingi return exhausted to your apartment, your brain feels more tired than ever. You’ve never been much of a thinker, but currently, your head feels worse than a hangover, and you don’t want to mull over anything drastic. Keeping your distance from the guy who supposedly has feelings for you back is harder than it seems, but you’re not in the mood to confront him right now.
However, Mingi has other plans. He sits you by the bed, helping you take off your jacket and accessories and untying your shoes. You realize that he’s picked up on your exhaustion, and you feel extremely guilty for wanting to push him away mere seconds ago. He is so charming at this very moment, and you feel nothing but enamored for the love you’ve received from him tonight and all the time you’ve spent together.
The words are flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.
“Do you like me?”
He stops mid-shoelace, looking up at you. You realize how awkward and uncomfortable of a position this is for him, but it’s too late to turn back now.
“Did it take you this long to notice?”
You feel like you’re being shoved underwater. The world hazes before your eyes, and the words are muffled as they enter your ears.
“What?”
He laughs, and the loss of your senses makes you realize how beautiful of a sound it really is.
“You’ve always called me stupid, but I think you’re the one that’s actually stupid here. I’ve liked you for a while now, silly. Why do you think I help you make dinner when I hate cooking?”
‘Oh’ is the only word floating in your head right now.
“So, the Curious George thing was fake?”
“Kind of. I was a little scared the first night, not going to lie, but after finding out how much I missed sleeping next to you, I figured I’d use it to my advantage. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure out or kick me out sooner.”
He sees you bury your head in your hands, too shocked to internalize anything right now.
“Hey,” he says, holding your shoulder, “you don’t need to say anything right now. I know it’s probably a lot to take in, and I know you’re probably exhausted after that party. Just sleep on it, okay? We can talk later.”
He finishes untying your laces and gets up to leave, but you pull on his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.
“Don’t go,” you whisper, “I like it when you’re here.”
He smiles so gently, so so gently that you want to stare at him forever.
“Alright, I’ll stay,” he whispers back, despite no one else being in the house, “do you want me to continue sleeping next to you?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out after a pause.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
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