#excuse the overuse of italics

[incomingalbatross]

I wanted to do something with "Faithful John" for the Four Loves @inklings-challenge event, but I didn't carve the time out to figure out what exactly I was doing. So I just keep...revolving the story in my head.

It's the ENDING I want to do something with. Because the ending is Weird in that fairy-tale way you instinctively want to smooth the edges off of, make Acceptable somehow, but also as soon as you do that you diminish what makes it compelling?? And I haven't reconciled all those factors in my head yet but I don't want to just erase the part I'm interested in.

You see:

Once there was a prince who fell in love with an ambiguously-cursed princess and brought her home. His faithful servant (charged by the king on his deathbed to look after the prince, all of which happened immediately before the prince found out this princess existed) ends up saving both prince and princess from the manifestations of the curse and making the wedding go forward. Due to complicated circumstances (not least the prince's failure to fully trust his servant), said servant ends up turned to solid stone. This is very sad. The prince (now king) keeps the statue in the palace. He and his now-not-cursed wife live their lives and have two little boys.

One day, while the wife is at church and the two boys are playing near the statue, the now-king sits in front of it and sighs "Oh Faithful John, I wish there was some way to bring you back!"

And then the statue answers. And it says good news, there is... but bad news, the way in question is for the king to kill his little boys and sprinkle their blood on the statue.

The king's response is "Oh no. OH NO." But he owes Faithful John his wife's life, and he's basically responsible for the statue thing through not listening to Faithful John last time, so he OWES him.

So, and this is the decision I keep thinking about trying to write, he DOES IT.

And in the way of fairy tales, of course, not only does Faithful John come back to life, but as soon as he's restored the two little princes also jump up, fine as ever. There is much rejoicing.

...But lest you try to push the filicide under the rug in your mind, then the queen comes home, and the king decides he wants an unbiased opinion from her on this, so he hides the kids and Faithful John and says "hey, you know Faithful John?"

And she says "of course, I was actually thinking about him the whole time I was praying at church, wishing there was something we could do to save him." (This is a FASCINATING hook to casually throw in, by the way. The story is LITERALLY implying this episode was a miracle spurred by her prayers. Kinda love that, honestly!)

The king says, "Well! I just learned we can bring him back, but we have to sacrifice our children's lives for his."

And, like the king, her response is "oh no. OH NO," because she also knows they owe their servant everything, and she concludes that they have an obligation to go through with this.

At which the king rejoices, because she came through, and he throws open the closet door and their sons and Faithful John come tumbling out, and all is revealed. And then they live happily ever after.

I still haven't decided what to do with this. Like, on the one hand, killing your children is BAD. Something that sounds like blood sacrifice is DOUBLE BAD. And no, this isn't exactly Abraham and Isaac, because Faithful John isn't God.

On the other hand, I love the gesture of total sacrifice. I love that this whole story revolves around the love of a servant, and I love the sense of honor and the idea of this overwhelming debt to be honored out of love (and trust, which there wasn't enough of the first time around)! I feel like this particular eucatastrophe needs some gesture of supreme sacrifice, bigger than the king giving his own life even, and the next generation being required to fix what went wrong with the first happy ending is very much my jam. I am also a sucker for characters giving "all that they are and all that they have" for someone or something else. And the implications of divine intervention to give them the chance to break this final curse...

There's a LOT of fodder for retelling in this one. I just... didn't quite get there.

[starrystevie]

eddie figures out that he likes steve all because of nancy fucking wheeler.

it isn't often that they find themselves hanging out just the two of them, quite the opposite. this is the first time they've ever done it and the only reason nancy is even stepping foot inside the munson's new government-provided trailer is because she's having a crisis.

"but what does it mean," she asks, voice muffled as her lips wrap around the opening of her beer bottle before taking a swig. her cheeks hollow and her eyes shut against the feeling of the carbonation bubbling up before she fixes eddie with a glare that he doesn't think is for him. "it didn't... feel this way with barb."

and eddie's just sitting there on the couch, rolling a much needed joint for both of them, trying to follow along with what nancy is saying. she's pacing a hole in the carpet and her hands are flying around in a way that eddie himself does when the wheels in his brain are spinning too fast.

"... what didn't feel what way?"

nancy glares at him again and he gets the feeling that it's directed at him this time. he feels himself shrink under her eyes and wants to raise his hands up in surrender (he gives in and does indeed raise his hands in surrender).

"i think i'm in love with robin, please try and keep up."

eddie stills, his hands in the air and mouth open in shock. nancy's still muttering about something but his brain is stuck on the being-in-love-with-robin part of her tirade. it's not an issue, not in the slightest, and sure he's heard of people who... but he's never met someone who actually-

"are you even listening?" nancy asks, her tone firm. she has a hand on her hip while the other is clenched tightly around the neck of her beer. "what am i supposed to do?! am i just supposed to kiss her and tell her that her eyes are my favorite color and that i miss her when she leaves a room even for just a minute?"

"how should i know?! i'm not in love with robin!" eddie responds and he knows it's the wrong answer by how nancy's whole face falls in the span of .02 seconds. she looks like she's on the brink of tears, frustrated or hopeless or sad, and eddie doesn't know what to do with that either.

"but... you know. what about steve?" nancy's voice is soft now, and paired with her puppy dog eyes, eddie almost doesn't process what she says. "how'd you know with him?"

and if eddie thought he was stunned before, this takes the cake. a nervous laugh bubbles out of him, his face hot and heart pounding. his arms feel a bit like liquid and he doesn't know if he's even breathing anymore.

"nancy, i'm sorry but i think we're on two different wave lengths here." he needs to do something with his hands so he starts to fiddle with his lighter, flicking the zippo open and shut until the clink of the metal sounds too loud in the quiet room. "i don't.... love steve."

tears start to roll down her cheeks and yeah, eddie definitely messed up somewhere. she's wiping the drops away furiously like she's surprised they even dared to show up and she's biting her lip in a way that looks like it hurts.

"what are you talking about? of course you do." her eyebrows furrow which makes her look even angrier or disgusted and eddie feels like they're on a tightrope in his living room that's about to snap away from underneath them.

"well yeah, i... love him," he stutters over the words, "like i love you and rob and everyone. but not like... love love."

nancy's laugh sounds way too harsh for it to have come out of her. "are you sure? you stare at his ass more than i stare at robin's." she takes a deep breath, ignores the gasp of indignation that her statement gets out of eddie, and tilts her chin up like she's taking the high ground.

"i do not!"

"do too! and you're always looking for him when you walk into a room, like it doesn't matter if we're there, you only look for him. and you sit right next to him even if there's an open seat that's more comfortable. and you have this little, i don't know, tic when he smiles that makes you wiggle your fingers and you-"

"wheeler, you gotta stop."

"-always listen to him and he does all of that back for you and it's so obvious. i can't believe you didn't know you were in love with steve! you do everything that i do for robin and i'm in love with her so it must mean you're in love with steve and- holy shit i'm in love with robin."

the silence after nancy stops rings loud in his ears. honestly, he hadn't really given it any thought before but it makes sense.

the very idea of steve has his heart feeling a way it hasn't since he was nine and tracy nichols gave him a shiny rock on valentine's day. he does always look for steve when he enters a room, his very presence calming and dependable. he does sit next to him no matter what, their sides pressed together, heat radiating between them like a blanket. and god, when steve smiles, he does have to move his fingers, something to get out these jolts of energy that he feels licking through his veins.

steve is good and steve is a bit of an asshole but eddie likes that and suddenly the line between platonic and romantic seems to have vanished because holy shit, how did he live for the past year without spending every day loving steve harrington?

eddie reaches for the half rolled joint, licks at the paper to close it and lights up quickly. he holds the smoke in his lungs for probably too long but couldn't care less because he's now having a crisis of his own thanks to nancy.

"goddamnit," eddie hisses out as he exhales. "i'm in love with steve."

nancy looks smug, her arm extended as she waits for eddie to pass the joint to her before taking a hit. "that's what i'm saying."

"but i'm not... you know."

nancy rolls her eyes. "it's not going to bite you if you say it, eddie."

"i'm not gay."

the silence seems louder now as the paper on the joint sizzles. there's a dog somewhere in the park barking and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"neither am i." nancy responds quietly with a shrug of her shoulders. "but i am for robin. and you are for steve."

she passes the joint back over to eddie and stands up from the couch, wipes off imaginary crumbs from her pants like she didn't just turn eddie's world upside down.

"i think i'm gonna go. i have a lady to woo." nancy looks happy. it's a good look on her, one he doesn't see all that often what with everything that's happened to them in the past year. she deserves it, he thinks, happiness.

"let me know how it goes," he calls to her as she stops at the trailer door.

"i will." with a tilt of her head and a with a gleam in her eye, she gives eddie yet another look that he doesn't know if he wants to try and decipher. "you should call him."

eddie snorts and takes a hit, rolling his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling so he doesn't have to look at nancy's all knowing eyes. it isn't that he's scared to call steve, it's that he's terrified. petrified. what would he say? what would steve say? he just figured out that he loves him, he hasn't had time to prepare a whole speech to declare it and-

"eddie." nancy's voice is sharp but certain and part of him thinks that robin is a lucky woman to have nancy wheeler falling in love with her. "trust me. call him."

after she's gone, he finishes the joint. he sits in the silence of his trailer and pulls hit after hit of sticky smoke until it's down the end and burning his fingertips. he stares at the ceiling some more, contemplates what to say, how to say it, how to do anything without throwing up.

he wonders if wayne knows, if he saw what nancy saw, what he thinks of eddie falling in with a guy. he wonders if this will change everything. wonders if it'll change for better or worse. wonders if he'll have to skip town and change his name like he imagined doing after he was cleared of murder.

picking up the phone is easy, dialing is easier when he has steve's number memorized like the back of his hand.

"hello?" steve mutters like he's been roused out of sleep. his voice is scruffy and somehow soft and eddie knows he's going to throw up.

"steve."

"hey, man. is everything okay?"

and it makes eddie's heart flutter in a way that a generic question shouldn't but damn it, he's in love. he's allowed.

"yeah, yeah. everything's good i just-" eddie sighs, scrubs a hand down his face to stop from twirling the phone cord in his fingers. "do you wanna maybe come over? watch a movie or something?"

eddie can almost hear the smile in his voice when he breathes out a yes, thanking whatever higher powers there may be for nancy wheeler.

[mascdestr0yer]

BE CAREFUL

spiderwoman!paige x fem!reader

Warnings: overuse of italics, fluff, angst, slight cursing ?

Synopsis: paige got a lil hurt..

A/N: this is placed in ny city, for obvious reasons, it’s based off of the iconic scene we all know and love, if you don’t know the scene, well..

PAIGE LAID IN YOUR BED, watching you as you studied hour after hour.

“you can’t invite me over and just study, that’s very rude,” She began stretching, then she walked over to your desk, closing your book, grabbing your calculator.

“paige!—“ you huffed, not too upset, you had been ignoring the girl. “i didn’t invite you, you came over by yourself.”

“Literally the same thing— do you treat all your guests like this?” she shakes her head with faux disappointment. “Come on, let’s watch a movie, i know you want to,” she smirked, gently pulling you to your bed.

“maybe a little..”

“atta girl, come on,” she patted the spot next her.

The two were halfway through some romcom movie, “my mom is having her new boyfriend over and he’s going to be spending some nights over here more often, so i was wondering if we could hang out at your place instead..?”

“yeah, sure, i thought you like your mom’s new boyfriend?” she questions, fiddling her zipper on her jacket.

“i do—but, i just want to hangout with no interruptions and he’s so pushy.” your voice was soft, paige could tell you weren’t trying to sound rude.

She let out a chuckle in return,“excuses excuses..”

“i mean, if wanna meet him that’s fine by me.”

“i’d love too,” her smirk was too wide for you liking.

“why do you look like that..?”

“like what? this is my face, it’s awfully rude to judge someone off things they can’t change, especially, if they saved your life,” Of course she had to use the save your life.

“okay spider-girl,” you rolled your eyes, closing your laptop.

“first off, it’s spiderwoman to you, secondly i was watching that.”

It’s been a couple days without seeing each other, school would usually be the time you guys had at least some time together but, unfortunately it was spring break.

You both were busy so it was understandable, so here you were typing away trying to finish you Ap lit paper before break was over, you’ve been procrastinating all month.

Now as the due date nears the paper is all you can think about. Your laptop feels like it could explode from how long it’s been on.

you hear a soft but, loud enough knock at your window, “come in.”

You get out of your seat, walking over to her, “you know, when i said you can come over whenever i didn’t mean through my window, my mom would kill me,”

she chuckled and stumbled out of the window, she had three long claw marks on her back, “paige, what—what happened?”

“you should see the other guy..” she joked as you sat her down, “—the other guy… in this instance being a giant mutant lizard,”

“Hey, y/n, do you wanna have rice Krispy treats? your mom’s making rice Krispy treats,” you could hear your mom’s boyfriend, edwin, say down the hall. that makes you jump up and rush to your door. paige quickly gets out of your chair to hide.

you opened the door, out of breath, “no, edwin, i do not want rice Krispy treats , honestly—i’m seventeen years old,” you say way harsher than you’d like.

“well, i just thought i remembered someone saying last week that her fantasy was to live in a marshmallow house,” Edwin raised a brow, he decided not to question the other of breath situation.

“well, that’s impractical,” you closed your door and then reopened it, “and fatning,” you closed you door again.

you looked at paige who was sat ln the floor behind you chair, “marshmallow house,” she teased, you just rolled your eyes.

you reopened your door, “m’sorry edwin, i just can’t have rice Krispy treats right now, i’m—i’m working on this paper and like it’s due soon so, you don’t even wanna know.”

He just nods his and walks away, you sighed.

the taller girl winced as cleaned her wound, throwing her head back slightly.

“his—his tail was like humongous..” she started, you grimaced at the sight of her trembling body.

“shh.. it’s okay,” you cooed, you tried to bandage the girl quickly but, tight enough so it wouldn’t hurt her. when you were finished the two of you laid on your bed, you gently combed your fingers through her hair.

“thank you..” it muffled by your shirt that she had her face buried in.

“you’re welcome, just be more careful next time.. you know i’m not always gonna be here,” you responded softly.

“you’re not allowed to talk like that,” her grip on your shirt tightened.

“okay okay..” you chuckled.

“it’s not funny,”

sorry if it’s too short, hope you guys liked it, taglist: @aerinaga @danc1ngqu33n @darlindayss @secretlifeofmarii @aavasstuff @h34rtsformilli @ajcuteee @naipoohh @theendofevangelionnn @mrsengstler @thebignunfun @tired-duckling @julienbakerloverr @mrsarnold @slut4uconnwbb @abbyswif3 @svudetective @liviiyyy @hellokittyfeenie @paigeslanyard @latenighttalkinqwp @ashortyluvsports @kittykatz1227 @seraphicgrll @paulamdm @patscorner @addil244 @1-800-fantasy @typicalkith

[myspacebrat]

𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔

priest eddie munson x nun reader

♱ summary: after a life of chaos and sin, eddie finds comfort in the one thing he never thought he would, religion. But what happens once he gives his life to god and swears off all of his old vices before finding the one person that makes him question whether it was worth it.

♱ warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, fem reader, no use of y/n, use of pet names, religious themes, slight religious trauma, reader was forced to become a nun, mentions of drugs, fingering, unprotected p in v, slight lil daddy kink, cream pie, fluffff, overuse of italics but what else is new? Pls do not read if any of the above sounds offensive to you, you are in control of your own media consumption.

♱ authors note: just a little something to feed my priest eddie brainrot, hope you like! A special thank you to my beautiful beta’s @take-everything-you-can , @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @corrodedcorpses <3

♱ wc: 3.7k

The first time Eddie had ever seen you, he thought it was a fluke. Of course he’d see the most beautiful girl, after he had taken a vow of chastity and was in the works to become a priest.

It felt as though God was taunting him for all of the sinning he had done as a teen and young adult. Dangling something he could now never have, right in front of his face. Oh, cruel world.

He should be used to this, the feelings of disappointment and utter longing. For most of high school and some time after, he was used. Used for the things he had that people wanted: sex, drugs, and the few rare instances girls dated him just to piss off their parents. But never has he been wanted, adored unconditionally. After living a life like that, filled with drug binges and meaningless sex, giving his life to God seemed like a no brainer, at the time.

Eddie was impulsive however and the things that felt clear as day in the moment, seemed to blur over time.

What Eddie didn’t know was that you had already planned your escape route. You had grudgingly been pressured by your late father to join the “family business”. He had become a priest when you were five and since then he’s had your life mapped out for you; become a nun, work in the monastery and give your life and soul to God until it was your time to eventually meet him.

That was not the life you wanted for yourself. You wanted to fall in love and get married, have children and move far away from this town that has brought you nothing but shame and guilt.

“Excuse me, uh I believe this belongs to you.” A voice echoes through the empty chapel, making your shoulders jolt at the startling interruption of your most sacred thoughts. Your veiless head snaps towards the voice in fear, as you were not to be in the church without your veil, it was a symbol of modesty that your convent took very seriously.

What you found was not an angry priest, deacon or catechist but a student priest. His kind eyes and gentle smile, long brown locks that were pulled back at the nape of his neck and his hands that were clutching at your head piece, had all simultaneously taken your breath away. There had never been anyone in the church that met his appearance. He had a bad boy turned good look that really set your insides ablaze. Whether it was a warning from God, not to stray from the path by allowing you to feel small licks of hellfire, or your subconscious begging for a reason to deviate from the life that was so carefully laid out for you, you didn't know but what you did know was this man would now become the catalyst of all your waking day dreams.

“Oh, yes my apologies, sir.” You softly smile before taking the veil and placing it securely on your head. You turn back to the big wooden cross hung above the altar you’re standing afront, before looking back into the strangers' doe pools of chocolate. “How uh, how are you enjoying your seminary studies?” You question, cheeks heating up at your terrible attempt at small talk.

“My seminary studies?” Eddie repeats with a low chuckle as his eyebrows shoot up, getting lost behind the fringe of his shaggy bangs. He cocks a wide smirk at your question, you really were as sweet and delicate as you looked. That made the future priests’ stomach flip in excitement. The need for corrupting such a cute little thing, vehemently returning. He hadn’t felt that utter desire in years. He would give this all up to watch you fall apart underneath him.

“Mmhm.” You giggle with a small nod of your head, fingers twisting together over your front from the frisson excitement bursting through your chest. You had never felt this way talking to any priests or priests in training, the rush was addicting.

“It’s going well.” The male murmurs with an unconvincing smile, his eyes glance down to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes in a fleeting moment. Your heart rate kicks up at the implication before you boldly turn towards him, your chest puffed out as the swell of your breasts are tightly hugged by the black fabric of your unflattering habit.

Eddie takes a step closer towards you, the toe of his boots brush against your black flats. His eyes roaming your fully clothed body as if he had x-ray vision and could see the black lace set you allow yourself to wear underneath, as an act of rebellion that only you were allowed a glimpse of.

His left hand slowly moves into your space, gently placing the cloth of your veil that had fallen over the front of your shoulder, back to its rightful place. The act was so tender and kind you couldn’t help but to lean closer into his touch.

The chapel was so still, all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of two very enamored people, as if they finally found what they had been looking for all along. A safe place to house their hearts.

In a matter of seconds you jerk back, as footsteps ring out from the corridor, startling you out of your love filled daze. Eddie thinks on his feet, the awfully close position being far too compromising, so he takes your hand and leads you into the confession box. He covers your mouth as the footsteps grow closer, two people chattering as they walk by before leaving out of the exit, letting the heavy wooden doors slam shut behind them.

Eddie quickly removes his hand, shooting you a sympathetic smile before the realization hits that you’re seated on his lap, half awakened cock digging into your backside causing a small gasp and unintentional clench of your thighs. A devious smile displays itself upon the brown eyed boy's lips, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. And he didn’t even know you. Oh he’s fucked.

His soft lips swiftly brush up against yours, making you quickly pull away in surprise. “I can’t kiss you, I don’t even know your name.” You whisper rather unconvincingly.

“It’s Eddie, what’s your name sweetheart?” He purrs into your ear, goosebumps alite your skin as you squirm in his lap from the low timber of his voice.

You meekly recite your name as your face grows hot from his attention. “Mmm, pretty name for an even prettier girl.” He huffs before he licks his lips in anticipation. His cock now fully hard and poking into your clothed skin.

Eddie gently grabs your chin, eyes meeting yours in a powerful standoff. “May I kiss you, angel? I really need to kiss you.” The desperation dripping from his voice is enough to convince you of anything.

“Yes.” You murmur before fully straddling him, his lips find yours in a passionate frenzy as you move together like a beautiful melody.

In all of your timidness and trepidation you’ve completely forgotten how it feels to be pressed up against another body, brain empty as you enjoy the moment as it comes, you giggle between kisses at the double entendre.

“What’s so funny, huh?” Eddie says playfully, grabbing at your sides and causing a shriek of loud laughter to roll off your tongue. How was it possible that this man made you feel like a kid again, a kid you didn’t even get to be? The fleeting nostalgia is quickly interrupted when Eddie puts a finger up to your lips, a gesture that asks “do you wanna get caught?” And it almost makes you giddy, nothing this exciting ever happens to you.

“You gotta be quiet, angel. Can you do that for me?” He asks in a dominating tone that has you shuttering and weak at the knees. He swipes a gentle finger across your lips, placing it in between the two before you quickly get the hint, wrapping your plush pink pillows around his index and lightly sucking. The action has Eddie’s eyes rolling back in his head, there was no way he’d be able to hold back, not with you grinding down on his painfully hard cock while sucking on his finger.

Without much thought left in your already fucked out brain, you remove the long black cloth that you’ve despised for years, yanking it off of your shoulders and over your head. Disposing of it over your shoulder without a care in the world, you had more pressing matters at hand.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie’s breath hitches as utter shock crosses his features, his mouth drops open while his eyes roam the expanse of your body that is scarcely covered by lacey black fabric. His cock twitches underneath you, causing you to squirm, unintentionally rubbing his throbbing pink tip over your warm heat and pulling a needy moan from between your lips.

He wastes no time, bringing his hands to rub over the see through fabric that is covering your now peaked nipples before slowly moving down in a gentle but callous glide over your sides, to your hips and finally landing on your plush thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as his lips curl up in satisfaction.

“Can I touch you, baby?” He whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he desperately awaits your approval.

“Please.” You moan out into the expanse of the wooden box as you drag your slick cunt across his achingly hard cock in one more act of torment.

His fingers move before his brain, finding themselves between your legs, rubbing right over that button of pleasure that Eddie hasn’t been acquainted with, in what feels like years. He slips his hand past the black lace, digits sliding between your soaked lips and teasing at your tight little hole before he’s bringing the slick up to your swollen bud and drawing gentle circles, a loud moan erupts from your chest as the unknown pleasure consumes you.

You weren’t a virgin, despite what everyone thought of you or at least what you let them think. No one knew that you’d lost your virginity the summer of junior year. Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your strict parents or maybe just a sad attempt at being so starved for any kind of connection, you took the only one some high school boy had to offer; three minutes in the back of his beat up Pontiac.

The feelings being pulled from you by the long haired man, were unlike anything you’ve ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. You would beg and plead to him until the end of times to always make you feel this good, it’s the closest to God you’ve ever felt in all of your life, how is this a sin?

“Does that feel good, angel baby?” Eddie whispers into your ear, low and seductive as his finger finally breeches your entrance, it slips in easily and without pain but the pleasure makes your hands fly up to grip at his shoulders before throwing your head back and letting out the sexiest set of moans Eddie has ever had the delight of hearing.

He slips a second digit in alongside the first, pumping in and out at a slow pace but the depth is what had your toes curling into your little black flats that were being held on by a thread, threatening to fall off of your feet at just the slightest movement. Eddie began to scissor his fingers apart, stretching you open enough to take his girth. The moans that were beginning to fill the church were downright sinful.

“I-I think I’m gonna um…” you breathe out harshly as your cheeks heat up from the words that you just can’t bring yourself to utter.

“You’re gonna what, huh? You gotta talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s goin’ on?” Eddie asks in faux concern, it’s so mocking and arrogant but it causes you to clench tightly around his fingers, sucking him in like a fucking vice.

“I’m- ah ah, I’m gonna cum!” You sob into his chest as you grind down onto his digits, fucking them into you deeper with each thrust, until your incredible high starts to feel slightly painful and overstimulating.

“Such a good girl.” Eddie praises, slipping his two fingers out of your pussy before bringing them up to his mouth and sucking dramatically as a groan of delight reverberates from his chest.

“You think you can cum on daddy’s cock like that?” He questions, his lust filled eyes bore into yours as the filthy words drip from his tongue. You should be disgusted, it should turn your stomach…but it doesn’t, not even in the slightest. Instead it amplifies your arousal and now it’s you who is desperate, yanking his vestment off of his upper body in one swift and eager motion.

With Eddie’s full chest on display, you drag your nails gently down his torso, causing a whimper to slip past his lips. He has tattoos. The revelation causes your eyes to widen. You didn’t think priests were even allowed to have tattoos, they were a sin in your convent. Although you had been fed so much propaganda throughout the years, you really couldn’t see what made them so terrible.

And you had to admit they were very attractive, certainly adding to the whole former bad boy mystique he has going on.

“You like em’?” Eddie asks as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, a glint in his eyes as they lock with yours.

“I do, father Eddie.” You purr as your hand brushes over his hard erection still locked behind the confines of his black slacks.

“Fuck.” He hisses into your neck before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, his hands reaching for your black lace thong as if he was going to slip it down and off of your body, but the sounds of fabric tearing alert you to his true intentions.

“I’ll replace those.” He says with a sinister chuckle, throwing the piece of fabric behind you to be lost in the sea of clothing beneath your feet.

“Holy shit!” The man gasps as his eyes meet your dripping center, the damp coils that sit above your mound and your little stretched hole that was done by his own hand. The view causes him to bite at his lip in animalistic hunger.

“Mmm, such a naughty boy using such foul language in a church.” You tut, having no idea where that came from but if his cheeks that have now grown a bright pink hue and the wild growl that slipped from his mouth were anything to go by, he was just as into it.

Eddie can’t take much more of your teasing so his hands slip down to the buckle keeping his slacks up, eagerly removing all of the obstacles that keep him from sheathing his cock deep into your tight little cunt.

Once he is fully released from his fabric confinement he wraps his hand around himself, giving it a few tugs before he’s smearing the large beads of precum around his tip and down his shaft, groaning from the attention he was so badly yearning for.

“You ready, baby?” He questions. Bringing his glistening, pink head to the seam of your sodden lips and rubbing the tip against your clit, before prodding it against your awaiting hole. The way your cunt sucks him in is heavenly. It was as if he was a virgin again, nothing or no one else mattered before you. The feelings settling in the young man's chest were overwhelming and terrifying but when he looked up from how his cock was coated in your wetness and into your eyes, he knew you felt it too.

You let out a breath of relief when he was finally buried to the hilt inside of you, throbbing and aching for release. Deciding to end the torment of your teasing, you begin using your knees that are roughly digging into the oak wood of the pew eddie is seated on as leverage to bounce and swirl your hips as you fuck him, so audaciously.

“Ah, ah, ah…” were the only noises leaving both of your mouths as you continuously sunk down onto Eddie’s cock. His big hands gripping the meat of your thighs as if you’d dissipate without his touch.

“Please.” You whine into the sweat slick skin of his neck, before reaching for the hair tie placed carelessly into a bun at his nape. You tug releasing his brown waves that fell just beneath his shoulders.

“Please what, my love?” That word made your head spin, you’d never been referred to as someone’s love. I mean you just met him and he probably says lots of endearing things while he’s getting laid, but it certainly made that fire in your belly kick up to blazing high levels.

“Please fuck me!” You sob, tears falling from your eyes as you get closer to your sweet release. But your legs were closer to finishing than you, as every bounce sent a searing pain from your knees up to your thighs.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m makin’ you do all the work, aren’t I?” Eddie teases with a condescending grin, making you pout and nod your head in agreement. “Here you are bein’ such a good girl, riding my cock like that and I don’t even have the decency to help you out.” He tuts, a wide smile splitting his face before the hands that were once resting on your thighs, come up and grab two rough handfuls of your ass.

He pulls your cheeks apart as he sinks down some, planting his heavy boot clad feet better onto the red carpet of the confessional box. He sends you a quick wink before he begins pounding into you with almost inhumanly, rapid thrusts making you cry out into the stuffy air.

Your hands dig into his scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair as he fucks you like an animal, with complete carnal hunger. A chill runs down your spine all the way to your toes as the fire in your lower stomach begins to consume you. You don’t care who hears you now, you just care about you and Eddie and working each other's bodies to gratification.

“Your close baby, I can feel it. C’mon, let go for me and cum on my cock.” He demands as his length throbs with each clench of your walls around him. He’s too close, but he’d rather die than cum before you.

“Oh! Yes, Father Eddie.” You squeak before crashing your lips into his. The long haired man’s eyes roll back into his head and a growl escapes his chest at the use of his not so future title. If he can’t have this then being a priest just won’t do, not anymore.

Eddie breaks the passion fueled kiss to suck his thumb into his mouth, slicking it up before bringing it to your swollen clit. The first gentle circle makes you jump, causing your walls to tighten even harder around him. His toes curl in his boots, he was so close, so on the edge to stuffing you full of him.

“I’m gonna cum inside your pretty little pussy, do you want that?” He asks roughly, but his eyes are so soft and so full of adoration and you want whatever he’s willing to give you.

“Yes, please Father Eddie.” You plead as you meet his thrusts, aching legs be damned. You can feel that high that’s teetering so close, you’re so desperate to fall off the edge.

“Who’s the naughty one now, huh? Begging a church priest to cum inside you? You bad girl.” He tsks, with a faint chuckle. His words knock you over the edge, coming so hard on his cock you see a white blinding light as your eyes tightly shut.

“Mm, that’s it baby!” Eddie growls, his thrusts faltering as he cums inside of you, your walls now coated with his white, hot release.

Eddie scrubs his hands down his face, “oh my god!” He exasperates before wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly into him, as his softening cock is still buried inside of you.

“Shh, you can’t use the lord's name in vain in a church!” You playfully reprimand, as if what you both have just done wasn’t grounds for going straight to hell.

“Hey, watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ to me, young lady! Or I’ll give you ten of these…” he scolds before bringing his palm down harshly onto the sensitive skin of your ass, making you gasp in surprise. He grabs your chin tightly before continuing, “and ten Hail Mary’s, I’ll make you say each one with my cock down your throat.” You clutch at your chest like you’d never been so offended, but the words caused you nothing but arousal as your cunt began to drip at the thought.

“You really are a naughty boy.” You purr, shaking your head as if in disappointment. You were both so deep in your own little world that you didn’t hear the footsteps outside the confessional door.

The handle was jiggled and quickly ripped open as a loud gasp rang out from behind you.

“Sister!” The nun hisses in absolute disbelief and disgust. The tone of her judgment awoke something deep inside of you that you thought had been buried. You hop off of Eddie’s lap, his spent cock plopping out and falling back onto his lower stomach. You quickly pull the habit over your head as Eddie stands up to inch himself back into his pants.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The nun you now recognize as Sister Claudia, snarls with a look of revulsion.

Eddie swiftly takes your hand and pulls you away, abandoning your veil and his vestment. His now shirtless and tattooed chest on display for the judgmental nun.

Without another thought you throw her the middle finger as you and Eddie run down the row of pews and out the heavy doors.

You weren’t sure where you were headed, but as long as it was with him. You were ready for the new journey.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Let's Get Out Of Here

Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: M •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: You've met your Dad's best friend before.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: This one was so difficult.

Warnings: Implied sexy times, Reader has a sort of family backstory, Reader's Dad had Reader very young, Reader has a good relationship with their Dad, Jake being a flirt, swearing, overuse of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 776

“And this is Jake.” 

Your smile freezes on your face as your Dad gestures to his aforementioned best friend. If it wasn’t for the grounding warmth of his hand on your arm you were sure you would have had an out of body experience. 

Him. 

Oh fuck.

How could it be him?

“Nice to finally meet you Jake.” You nod and shake his hand when he holds his out to you.

“Likewise.” His own smile is polite, tailored to a mask of neutrality that you can see through. He’s shitting himself just as much as you are. 

Your Dad laughs, thankfully oblivious to the sudden tension in air. “I’m glad you two could finally meet.” 

If it wasn’t for social norms you’d turn on your heels and just march right out of there. Maybe you could hide somewhere in the crowd. 

Your Father and Step-Mother were renewing their vows, and were throwing an ‘engagement’ party of sorts. 

They’d long ago moved out of the town you’d grown up in, as had you and sadly your new home was further away from them than you’d have liked. So you didn’t get to see them in person as much as you wanted to. 

Jake had met your Dad about four years ago, the two becoming fast friends. From what your Dad had told you Jake travelled a lot, but when they did meet up they always got on like a house on fire. He was, as well, a little camera shy. Covering his face or ducking out of the way in group photos, so the most you’d ever seen of him was the arm of his leather jacket, a blurred cap, or the scruff of curls poking just into frame. 

It had become a running joke that this ‘Jake’ was either imaginary, or a spy.

Your Dad had had you young, an accident that he always called ‘his greatest achievement’. Despite his youth and the barely sixteen years between you, he had been and was a wonderful father. 

Someone calls your Dad’s name and he excuses himself quickly, darting off before you even have a chance to protest. 

You look after him forlornly, your shoulders slumping. 

Maybe running away wasn’t such a break of social norms. 

“Hi.” Jake says softly, having taken a step closer. 

You turn back to him. He’s shoved his hands in his pocket, looking down before giving you an uncertain smile.

You return the gesture. 

“I’m so sorry-” You blurt out.

“I didn’t know you-” He starts at the same time.

You both laugh. 

“What are the odds?” He says with a shrug. 

“Well, I guess a fondness for you runs in the family?” 

Jake pulls a face and you laugh. 

“Don’t say that.” He grins. 

You try and fail to hide your smile. “Sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “Maybe… if I’d told you my name?” 

“Well,” you shift your weight, relaxing a little. “I didn’t tell you mine either.”

“We were a little preoccupied.” 

“Hmm.” You nod and close your eyes for a second to let the wave of embarrassment pass. “The first time yeah… but I think by the sixth we probably should have.” 

He laughs again. It’s a musical sound, deep and rich. Calming in its certainty. “What did you save my number as?” 

Heat burns a little under your skin. “Pretty guy.” 

“Pretty guy?” His eyebrows raise, but not in upset, just surprise. 

“Yeah, well,” you pull a face. “You’re pretty and a guy, so…”

He puffs his chest out a little, leaning a fraction closer. “You think I’m pretty.” He teases. 

You give him a sincere look. “I think you’re beautiful.” 

The honesty gives him pause for just a beat before he quickly recovers. “Says you.” 

“Says me?” 

“Yeah, says you. You’re stunning.” He lightly touches your forearm, his fingertips just ghosting over your skin.

You swallow, trying not to get lost in his eyes. “Shut up. What do you have me saved as then?” 

He grins, not breaking eye contact for a moment before he pulls out his phone and shows you your contact information. There’s a single red heart emoji listed as your name. 

“I didn’t take you as a romantic.” You tease.

He chuckles, leaning close and whispering in your ear. “Haven’t been treating you right then, have I?” He softly brushes the tip of his nose along your ear and you shiver. “Let me show you just how romantic I can be?” 

He leans back just enough for you to see his expression, the question in his dark eyes as he nods his head towards the venue doors. 

You grin. “Let’s get out of here.” 

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[seijch]

send me selfship questions!!

for @raevaioli because i wrote too much the first time and didnt have space to answer everything else 🧍🏻‍♂️

(there’s a lot of shit under the cut NDJKDKS be Warned)

1. where was your first date?

well, youve already heard about the first date that we realized was indeed A Date with futakuchi, but my first Proper Date with him would have to be somewhere like an arcade where we can have fun but still talk?? personally movie (theater) dates aren’t good first dates bc you Have to stay silent until the movie is over?? what’s the APPEAL...

there’s a shared exhale of relief as the large stuffed pokemon gets dropped by the crane into the pickup zone. “i can’t believe you pulled that off,” i tell him.

“you know, just for that, i’m keeping it.”

“you don’t even like pokemon! what happened to ‘this one’s for you, baby?’” i ask, voice dropping an octave to imitate him.

“i never said that, first of all. second of all,” he continues, grip tightening on the rowlet, “i won it. so it’s mine.”

“you fucking suck.”

(he says all this, yet when he drops me off, he insists i take the rowlet with me and name it after him. i graciously oblige, dubbing it coochie jr.)

when it comes to kuroo, he probably Says it’s some kind of unplanned affair but it ends with him unloading a picnic basket as we watch the sun set bc he’s a SAP... hate that fool 😔

“you’ve got good taste in music,” i tell him as the next song on his playlist begins. he’s definitely planning something, but i don’t say anything as his driving becomes less aimless.

“oh, i know,” he grins. “good enough for you to ask me for recommendations, i’d say.”

i’m crossing my arms before his sentence gets to finish. “listen,” i start, “you can’t tell me it didn’t work. we’re together now, aren’t we?” he doesn’t choose to grace that with a response.

before we know it, kuroo’s parked the car. “we’re here.”

“here? at the park? what are you gonna do, hold my hand while we watch the sunset?” i tease, getting out of the car. he doesn’t respond. “tetsu?”

“you really think you know me, don’t you?” he appears from the other side, picnic basket in hand and a resigned smile on his face. “what do you suggest we do now that my surprise has been torn to shreds, hm?”

“i mean...can we still eat? i’m kinda hungry.” i point to the basket. (i’m clearly deflecting ,, i was Not expecting kuroo the simp to jump out so early and my heart Cannot Take It)

2. who normally plans the dates?

between me and futakuchi i’m going to say none of us! we don’t really go on Dates dates, it’s just Us Hanging Out !! with kuroo, at first it’s him tbh but after we get comfortable everything becomes a date... idk tbh i’m not the type to sweat that kind of thing 🕺🏻 i do like to Go Out and do things w my s/o no matter who they are but a date doesn’t always have to be going out nor does it have to be a Special going out yk??

3. what kind of dates would you two mostly go on? do you have a “date spot?”

i mentioned this in my answer for 24, but w kuchi we have this ritual of going out to eat every friday and after we get together that doesn’t change!!! if we’re feeling extra lazy we might order takeout but we always always spend our friday nights together... it’s def smth we look forward to even Before we start dating (and it’s smth we both wonder Why we anticipate before we get tgt)

in terms of a date spot? we have our favorite places (like the ramen joint i mentioned in 24) but other than that maybe a few other restaurants and that’s kinda it! our other dates are the occasional study date but i cannot study when he’s around,, just looking at his face pisses me off 😃 nah but we can’t focus on school together + we’d get heated over a meaningless argument and get kicked out NDNSJSJ

when we get domestic w each other (like in uni or beyond) kuroo and i have all our dates at the grocery store... idk abt you but the INTIMACY of buying groceries w someone you love is so [clenches fist] yk?? but before and sometimes after that point rlly it’s like Things To See and Things To Do whenever kuroo puts himself in charge of planning it bc he knows we both like to be engaged and have fun!! (i alr said it but our date spot is the grocery store <3)

4. what kind of date do you think the both of you would enjoy the most? why?

that’s a very good question... i mentioned it alr but kuroo and i vibe heavy w things that are engaging and give us things to talk about while we keep busy,, like maybe an amusement park or smth w all the rides (we’re definitely spinning the shit out of the teacups) mostly bc i think he likes being kept on his toes and i do too! i think we’d challenge each other to do better by setting an example for the other to follow just in general,, also ngl places w a lot of ppl are good too so we can peoplewatch,, the two of us are the type to read people with a glance and when we need downtime we’d sit down somewhere and just kinda . 👁👁 yk

“i might barf,” i announce, gait crooked from the dizzying ride.

“no, you won’t,” kuroo replies, allowing me to drape myself over him though he’s not walking straight either. “didn’t you hear? vomitting is banned in this country and thirteen others.”

“a shame. anyway, let’s go on the pirate ship ride next.”

(we sit at the outer edge. it’s not a good time for the folks in the two seats in front of us. we wipe our vomit—mostly my vomit—from the corners of our mouths and apologize profusely.)

when it comes to kuchi, i think he’d like smth where we would end up competing against each other! i mentioned this when i answered question 50, but kenji and i are almost TOO competitive over stupid shit so smth like laser tag (where everyone is like ... why don’t you want to work together aren’t you DATING) would be SO fucking fun

“it’s not too late to surrender,” he simpers, my body sandwiched between his and the wall. my gun’s been knocked out of my hand—that’s gotta be against the fucking rules—and part of me feels like i’m on a real battlefield, as fleeting the thought is. “some battles, you just can’t win.” he punctuates this statement with a sage nod, leaning so close his breath fans against my face. “so, what’ll it be?”

i close the gap, pressing my lips against his and relishing in the strangled groan that comes from the back of his throat as he reciprocates, free hand moving to the nape of my neck. the hand holding the gun drops. that’s all the opening i need.

i let him deepen the kiss, take his bottom lip between my teeth and gently tug as my hands reach for his gun while his brain is still between his legs.

aim. fire.

i’m the last one standing, and the lights turn on around us. “it’s always good to have goals,” i tell him, granting him a consolation peck to the lips. “but i suggest making them more realistic next time.”

9. what do you think your first impression of them would be?

now THIS is a question i knew the answer to going in bc my best friend (honestly she doesn’t get paid enough ,, or at all ,, for all the shit she has to put up w from me NDNSKSK) had to hear all abt my elaborate fantasies regarding these two but!!

my first impression of kuroo is 1) 😳😳 and more importantly, 2) I Want To Know What He’s About... bc he’s not the kind of person i’d get the full picture of w just one look and maybe a few words spoken? he’d pique my interest a LOT (and this is smth he shares w tsukishima, tho i don’t see myself in a long lasting relationship w him like i do w kuroo and kuchi!) and i’d end up worming my way into his life whether he likes it or not until i find out :-)

unlike kuroo i see kenji and go Wow. What An Asshole. ok no i don’t NDNSJSN i probably think he’s cute first THEN go what an asshole and there’s definitely a long period of time where we’re genuinely getting on each other’s nerves before it goes into the romantic relationship-adjacent dynamic you see in my answer to 24!

10. what do you think their first impression of you would be?

kuroo’s definitely curious. i don’t imagine him being unable to see thru me from the start but i prove myself to be Good Conversation so he’s fine (and ends up being more than fine) with me bothering him as much as i do. kenji probably sees me the way i think most people see me at first? very soft and sweet ,, and then he tries to rile me up, tries to test the waters and pretty quickly finds out that right under the nice girl is someone that won’t hesitate to mirror the shit he tries to dish out.

(again) 24. would you confess first or would they? how would it have gone?

i saw you said in the tags you wanted to see the kuroo one so here it is 🤝 i had all my fun writing kenji’s so this one is shorter than that but!!!

NDNSNSN anyway !!! with kuroo it’s kinda 50/50 bc i’m not shy when it comes to my feelings but at the same time i like to have the lowest chances possible for failure when it comes to things like this... but i simp SO heavy for him so lbr it’ll prob be me just bc i literally Cannot pretend that my intentions are platonic anymore and he’s not gonna do it first (later i find out he was trying to see how long he could go before one of us mentioned the elephant in the room)

(5:38 PM) me: anyway for the weekly song rec

(5:38 PM) me: khalid ft. john mayer - outta my head

(5:39 PM) me: specifically 1:16-1:25 :-)

the messages have sent before i can think twice or even consult anyone about it. there’s a beat of silence. then two. then three. i throw my phone down onto the bed as it bounces off the mattress and onto the carpet.

what the fuck!!!!!! bitch why did you do that!!!!!!!

there’s no taking it back now. he reads it ten minutes after it sends (not like anyone’s checking, that would be preposterous). the picture i took of him mid-sneeze two months ago lights up the screen, a facetime call from shithead 👺 bringing me to yet another crossroads. do i answer it and face the music (literally), or do i pretend to have been busy and act as though i didn’t just confess to one of my best friends through text and with music, of all things?

i pick up the call.

“i liked the song,” he says as soon as the call opens, “though i can’t help but wonder if there was a hidden meaning to it.”

“and if i told you there was?”

“well,” he replies, sounding a little out of breath (where is he?), “i’d tell you to open your door because i’m outside.”

true enough, when i race downstairs and open the door, he’s waiting for me. “and if i told you that was my way of asking you to be my boyfriend?”

“well, i think i’d want to ask if i could kiss you. assuming, of course, it was alright to do something like that so soon-“

he doesn’t finish his sentence. his lips are a little bit chapped, but pleasant nonetheless, and i tuck the newfound fact away in my file of things i know about kuroo tetsurou.

(for reference, the song lyrics for the part i mention are can you feel the tension / you’ve got my attention / i know we’re just friends but / i’d rather be together instead)

[evilfishh]

It could just be the lighting or whatever BUT I DON'T CARE! I LOVE HOW DILATED VAL'S PUPILS ARE WHEN TALKING TO JULS VS HOW NORMALly beautiful THEY ARE WHEN TALKING TO YUCKO! That's love bitches. Don't @ me

[sugawarassoulmate]

by the scruff of your knee socks

happy birthday, suna 🥺🖤

“just pull out, babe, we’ll be fine,” you suggest knowing that it’s no use. suna, as hard as it is to resist you sometimes, refuses to fuck you raw when you forget to take your pill. it’s one part precaution and the other punishment for being so forgetful.

despite your pleading eyes, suna reaches to the nightstand beside your bed and finds the nearly forgotten box of condoms. your face contorts and a pout forms on your lips but suna simply shrugs his shoulders. “you know the rules, bunny.”

words: 2.1k

cw: fem!reader, timeskip!suna, vaginal penetration, breeding kink, degradation, name calling, dumbification, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex, me overusing italics, minors dni

It wasn’t often that the two of you had so much time to spend with one another. Between your grad school course load and his hectic training schedule, there was barely time to breathe let alone be intimate.

But here you were, grinding on your boyfriend’s lap dressed only in one of his t-shirts and your panties. School was in recess and Suna had the next few days off to rest at home and the two of you were hellbent on getting the most out of them. The movie Suna was watching had been long forgotten the second you pounced on him in bed. His hands reach for your soft skin, nails digging into you to set your pace above him. As lazy as Suna is, he’s always eager to take control when you’re like this.

“Missed this,” he says in between kisses, feeling your smile against his lips. “Been so long since I’ve been in that pretty pussy.”

He chuckles when he hears your little whimpers, “Riiiin”. He could tell how bad you wanted this too. But as things start getting more intense, you pull away for a second, a blank expression crossing your face for a brief moment before a sudden realization hits you. Suna’s completely lost.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks, sudden concern growing.

You fumble with the hem of Suna’s shirt, averting your eyes away from him. “Ahhh,” you let out. A low hum coming out of your mouth as you try to form words.

Suna takes his hand that was originally rubbing circles on your thigh and brings it to your jaw, forcing you to meet his golden eyes. The embarrassment on your face is noticeable — you must’ve done something wrong.

“Use your words,” Suna says strictly. “What’s wrong?”

You fell into his touch, another whine leaving your lips. “Don’t be mad,”

Suna’s brows furrowed. “Why would I be mad, baby?”

“I might have forgotten to take my birth control,” you blurt out. “…again.”

Your boyfriend let out a frustrated groan. Suna loved you more than anyone else in the world. The two of you accepted each other’s faults: you were a morning person (not by choice really, but morning classes were a thing) and Suna liked to sleep in during his days off, you were a stickler for always being on-time whereas Suna didn’t mind he showed up 20 minutes late to an event. You two weren’t perfect but you loved each other in spite of these minor setbacks. But if there was one thing Suna could change about you, it would definitely be your forgetfulness.

If something wasn’t in your line of sight, it was almost like it didn’t even exist. You’d leave your keys by the door and end up locked out of the apartment and he couldn’t even begin to count how many umbrellas you’ve lost because you left them at school or your job or on the subway car. And, of course, there was your birth control. You’d forget a pill every now and then, often having to double up in order to stay on track. But sometimes, usually when Suna was away from home for days at a time, you’d just stop taking it completely and when he’d call you out on it, it was always the same excuse — “I just don’t see a reason to take it when we’re not having sex”

This wouldn’t be that big of a deal if you didn’t bitch every time Suna fucked you with a condom on. You liked feeling Suna’s cum on you. He remembers the first time few times you had sex and the way you’d whine for him to release on you — your back, stomach, face, tits, ass. It didn’t matter to you, you just wanted to feel him — Suna would have to rush to throw the rubber off before he came to meet your needy requests. 

But then Suna fucked you raw for the first time — it was about a year ago when you had visited him during practice and got to formally meet his teammates. One of them got a little too handsy with you which naturally resulted in Suna fucking you in the locker room. He cursed himself for not carrying protection with him but you, already growing dumb from his cock, begged for him to cum inside and who was he to say no? 

That momentary lapse in judgment cost Suna a trip to the pharmacy to get you a Plan B. After that, you immediately went on the pill to avoid any possible pregnancy scares and for the most part, it was great.

Until your scatterbrained memory landed you in a situation like this.

“Just pull out, babe, we’ll be fine,” you suggest knowing that it’s no use. Suna, as hard as it is to resist you sometimes, refuses to fuck you raw when you forget to take your pill. It’s one part precaution and the other punishment for being so forgetful.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to have kids with you — it’s quite the opposite. The thought of you waddling around, swollen with his child has replayed in his mind dozens of times. Each time he fills you up with his seed, a dark part of himself hopes the birth control fails and you’ll show up with a positive pregnancy test in hand. But he pushes those thoughts aside because now isn’t the best time. Your education and his volleyball career are top priority right now. 

It’ll happen someday — you and Suna are finally planning on moving out of the apartment and looking for that “forever home” (which Suna thinks is corny but he’ll do anything to please you) and he started looking at engagement rings last week with Aran (“finally,” Aran said when he heard the news) The life you two have built together was going to change rapidly in the oncoming months but none of it included a baby right now. 

Despite your pleading eyes, Suna reaches to the nightstand beside your bed and finds the nearly forgotten box of condoms. Your face contorts and a pout forms on your lips but Suna simply shrugs his shoulders. 

“You know the rules, bunny.”

The frustrated whines that Suna’s come to know in situations like this begin to start. You cross your arms, watching him fiddle with the wrapper. He offers a word of comfort but you brush him off, scoffing which makes Suna grab at your waist forcing you closer to him. His fingers dig into your skin.

“Don’t get all bitchy with me,” Suna growls, slapping your thighs when you try to squirm out of his grasp. “We can stop if you don’t want me to fuck you.”

But it’s been weeks since you felt Suna’s fat cock in you and you’re just so goddamn needy for him. You furiously shake your head and reach forward to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible.

Suna cooed, patronizing you as he finally ripped off the foil and rolled the condom on his aching cock. “My needy little brat wants it bad, doesn’t she?” he forces you to look at him again, waiting for you to nod. “That’s what I thought. Why don’t you be a good little girl and ride my cock, hm?”

And as you sinked yourself down onto his cock, you realize how desperate you were for him. “Ahhhh-” He was right, you did want this bad. It was embarrassing how wet you were despite him barely touching you but after being together for so long, it was hard getting off without him.

Slowly, Suna fills you up to the brim and he waits to give you time to adjust, lifting your shirt up and ghosting his fingertips over your nipples, making you squirm even more. “Bounce for me, pretty girl,” a harsh slap hits your skin. “Maybe then I’ll touch you.” He leans back against the headrest, smug grin on his face, waiting for you to get to work.

You huff in frustration but start moving anyways, using him to get your own pleasure. He refuses to touch you but allows you to wrap your arms around him as leverage. You try your best to start slow, wanting to drag it out as much as possible to drive him insane but your own neediness works against you. It isn’t long before you build a steady pace riding his cock.

Even with the barrier between you two, Suna can feel how wet you are and he loved it so much. Such a good girl you can be when you listen to him. He wanted so badly to feel all of you but you just had to be forgetful. Taking some pity on you, Suna reaches out to cup your cheek. As expected, you lean into his touch.

Always so receptive. He thinks rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, you allow him entrance letting him open your mouth. My sweet little brat. Suna sits up, forcing himself deeper inside of you. “Ah! Rin!” The sudden intrusion breaks your concentration causing your hips to stutter. Hands suddenly dig into your hips holding you in place. His golden eyes staring at you condescendingly. “Want me to make you cum, bunny?” Suna thrusts his hips upward, knocking the wind from you. “Wanna cum on my cock, yeah?”

But the words couldn’t reach your lips, only a fervent nod which makes your boyfriend swell with pride. “Fucked you dumb, didn’t I?” picking up the pace, Suna has you properly bouncing on him now. His lips biting down on your skin in between his words. “Can’t even form a sentence, huh?”

And nothing — there isn’t a thought in your pretty head. Suna’s mean words don’t even bother you. The only things that matter is Suna’s fat cock stretching your walls and the feeling in the pit of your stomach growing with each thrust. You weren’t going to last very long and Suna could tell. 

In one swift motion, Suna shifted your bodies around so he was on top of you quite literally fucking you into the mattress. “Cum, bunny. Make a mess for me.” And it was all you needed to hear, holding onto him as you cum and gushing around his cock just like he wanted.

Your walls clamp down him even more now and Suna moves even harder, fucking you despite your sensitivity. He can feel your small fists pushing him away but he knows you don’t mean it — he loves it when you fight against him, only makes him want it to hurt even more.

“Fuck, where you do want me to cum, bunny?” he asks, his own release fastly approaching. “Your tummy? Your face?”

But you shake your head, whimpering as the tension starts to build up inside you again. “In me,” is all you say before a particularly hard thrust cuts you off.

“Bunny-” Suna starts knowing full well why he can’t do that for you but then you start bitching again, whining and crying and begging for him to cum inside you. Pushing him away, acting like a complete brat — “Give it to me, please. I want, I want, I want…”

And Suna comes to a full stop, pulling out of you. “You ungrateful, little bitch,” he spits out. “So desperate for my cum when it’s your fault I can’t give it to you.”

“I don’t care,” you cry, reaching up to touch him. “Rin, I don’t care…” 

And he shouldn’t give into your whines. You’ve been such a dumb, forgetful little brat. You should be lucky he even let you cum. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to fill you up. It’s the only way he can be truly satisfied. One look at your dripping cunt, clenching around nothing and Suna’s reaching down, ripping the condom off his cock. 

“Want it that bad, huh?” he asks going balls deep with no warning, relishing in your screams. “What a cum-dump little bitch you are.”

Suna’s words are so mean and it makes you clench down hard around him. You’re getting what you wanted and he’s going to make sure it hurts. But you know he’s not going to last long, it’s only when he’s about to cum does he get like this — he wanted it just as bad.

The pace he set starts wavering, his hips moving sloppily as he reaches his high but it doesn’t soften his words. “It’s almost like you’re trying to trap me,” he says. “Want me to fuck a baby into you, hm? Fine.”

And like always, Suna grunts when he cums breathing heavily against your neck. He pulls out, slowly this time, and rolls over to pull you into his chest. You grimace when you feel his cum dribbling out of you. 

“Don’t whine about it now,” he teases, kissing the side of your face. “Was I too rough?”

He always has to ask — just to make sure.

“Never,” you assure and Suna hums with content.

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

[vrishchikawrites]

I suck at writing dialogue.

Any advice, senpai?

Ok *rolls up sleeves* I have 10 tips!

1. Give characters individual vocal characteristics.

2. People don't write and speak in the same way.

3. Read the sentence in one breath.

4. Think about what the character would say and wouldn't say.

5. Characters interact differently with different people.

6. Use Dialogue to show what's happening and people's opinions on it.

7. Mind the dialogue tags.

8. Avoid cliche phrases.

9. Avoid saying obvious things.

10. People often don't respond logically or answer questions.

I've elaborated everything below and cut for length.

1. Give characters individual vocal characteristics.

LWJ has his famous 'mn' and I tend to use 'aiya' with WWX to showcase his casual manner of speaking. Nailing character voices at first is important to create natural dialogue. Clear vocal characteristics help readers identify one person from another, especially if you don't want to overuse identifiers like names or pronouns.

2. People don't write and speak in the same way.

People will sometimes skip articles, forego a few grammar rules, and will almost always shorten words and sentences wherever possible. Instead of saying, 'I'm hungry, I want to eat' most people will say, 'I'm hungry, want to eat' Remove all unnecessary words from the dialogue as much as possible, even if the character is considered talkative.

Use italics if you want to emphasize, ellipses to highlight pauses and indicate hesitation, dashes to also highlight sharper pauses. Use them instead of saying words to describe the situation.

3. Read the sentence in one breath.

When you finish writing the dialogue, read it out loud to see if you can say it in one breath. If not, add a pause or a full stop at appropriate places.

4. Think about what the character would say and wouldn't say.

LWJ speaks very efficiently. He always makes his point without speaking too many words. You wanna condense such a character's sentences as much as possible - without making him sound robotic because afaik, he doesn't sound stiff and robotic in Chinese (i may be wrong). WWX, on the other hand, is liberal with his speech but he's not verbose. To me, he doesn't say unnecessary words either, he just tends to elaborate more than LWJ does.

Before you create dialogue for any character, you'll need to understand what is characteristic and uncharacteristic for a person to say.

5. Characters interact differently with different people.

A person's tone will change based on who they're talking to. WWX will be more open and playful with LWJ, he'll take on a more mature edge when interacting with the juniors, he'll be distant and respectful with LXC, and distant but with an edge of sharpness with LQR.

Examples from the first chapter of Trapped and Patient

With WQ - "This is madness." He protests, "You're giving me too much credit!" With a stranger - Wei Wuxian taps on the table, smiling at the notes as the wine bottle is placed in front of him, "My friend, does that man come here often?"

With JYL - “Shijie! You know how restless I get,” His voice is cheerful, “What can I do here? I’m just sitting on my hands and languishing while everyone else is out there, preparing for war-”

With Sect Leader Yu - Wei Wuxian frowns, “Very well, I’d like to personally speak with them before I accept any sort of offer.”

With LXC - “I will tell you all, of course.” He assures and looks around, “I heard a few rumors and decided to offer my services to you and Chifeng-zun.”

With LWJ - "Lan Zhan! Lan er-gongzi!" He greets, elated, "I missed you!"

Everyone's tone changes based on who they're addressing and what kind of situation they are in.

6. Use Dialogue to show what's happening and people's opinions on it.

In T&P - Ch - 2 - WWX and LQR have a conversation and WWX says this:

He glances at Lan Qiren, “You have been in my position before, Elder Lan, was it a privilege?”

With it, WWX is able to explain his position in a way that is relatable to LQR, establish a connection with LQR, and lay the foundation for their relationship down the line.

LQR's response is an indication of acceptance and truce. It is also a conversation between adults instead of an elder and a teenager. If I played my cards right, I have showcased that LQR's perspective has shifted and WWX has grown enough and is cautious of his new position to take LQR seriously like he didn't before.

“Good. It is past time you live up to your potential, Wei Wuxian.”

Dialogue can establish the foundation of relationships better than paragraphs worth of description can and it does it in a way that is more personal.

7. Mind the dialogue tags.

He said, she said, etc, are sometimes necessary and sometimes they're not. If you can clearly identify the speaker, there's no need to add the tag. If the conversation is a rapid-fire exchange of words between two parties, you can forgo tags entirely.

He grins sheepishly, “I seek advice from you against his wishes, Zewu-jun. Forgive me for being a bit anxious.”

Lan Xichen waves his hand, “We’re both older brothers, are we not?

“Tell me about your new cultivation. It is remarkable.” There’s genuine interest in Lan Xichen's voice, “Where did you come up with the idea?”

“You’ll laugh,” Wei Wuxian says-

This dialogue uses the tag 'WWX says' only once and the rest of the conversation doesn't have it. Be conscious of the tags and where you use them.

8. Avoid cliche phrases.

Few things pull a reader away from a story than cliche phrases that people will rarely utter in their life. An exchange like this - "Why are you doing this?" - "Because I love you, damnit!" has become too common and isn't as effective as it used to be, especially when a character is confessing for the first time.

Best way to avoid cliche or cringy dialogue is to read the sentence out loud and consider whether it sounds natural.

9. Avoid saying obvious things.

If you've already written a paragraph on how eerily quiet a forest is, there's no need for a character to say - "It is quiet here isn't it?" Especially if the character is someone like WWX or LWJ, who are naturally observant. Don't let your character explain everything you have already described in text unless they need to explain it to someone.

10. People often don't respond logically or answer questions directly.

People tend to not answer questions directly. Even in serious conversations, they'll go about it a round-about way.

Wei Ying is silent for a while before he laughs softly, "Aiya, Lan Zhan, I already know what you wish to ask." Wangji waits patiently for permission and Wei Ying huffs and nods, "Yes, you may."

"What did you eat?"

Wei Ying picks up Wangji's hands and presses a gentle kiss on them, lacing their fingers together. He lingers for a moment before sighing, "My Hanguang-jun doesn't deserve to hear of such grim things."

Wangji curls his fingers because that might as be a confirmation. His heart breaks for his beloved and he closes his eyes, "Your husband wishes to know, Wei Ying."

"Mostly some small critters, Lan Zhan," he admits, "Sometimes I'd dig up roots of trees. They were softer and easier to consume. I managed to catch a few birds. Bugs, earthworms, maggots, crickets- they were plentiful.

WWX doesn't give a straightforward reply without LWJ coaxing things out of him. Characters lie, deflect, evade, blurt out excuses. LWJ consciously doesn't interrupt people but it is natural for people to interrupt each other's conversations too. Sometimes people will take a frustratingly long time to get to the point. You need to incorporate that.

"Hanguang-jun, surely you understand! Our village has faced draught ever since these children arrived and we finally know why! The Gods are displeased with us!"

Wangji looks at the children, feeling a stir of concern at their wan faces. They've already been beaten black and blue by angry villagers.

"I'll be taking the children," Wangji looks at his husband in surprise but doesn't voice any objections. It is rare for Wangji to deny his husband anything these days and Wei Ying's desires are often simple things, easy to fulfill with the greatest pleasure.

No one directly replies to the person who has spoken. That's also a common thing. Every question or comment doesn't need reciprocation to carry dialogue.

Of course, this is my amateur attempt. I would also recommend doing some online research. Hope this helps?

[yoditorian]

lacuna- part 1

din/reader

she’s here!!!!! she’s here!!!!! i decided to split it up into parts to give me more time to write and put u all (ellie) out of your misery. thank you for being patient, and thank you to everyone who was so kind about the teaser!! 

set waaaaaay before the series, this is Target Practice Din

MASTERLIST

word count: just shy of 2.5k

warnings: some swears bc it’s me, overuse of italics, probably some spelling mistakes, non graphic smut but it is Highly Implied, so for that reason 18+ only pls no babies.

“Have you ever removed your helmet?” 

“No.” He grits out.

“Has it ever been removed by others?”

“Never.”

He’s lying.

___________________

You practically fly down from the cockpit the second you touch down, shoving Ran between the shoulder blades. He stumbles down the last few feet of the ramp, and skids across the ground on his ass. In any other situation, you might have laughed. But in any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have pushed him.

“What the fuck was that?”

He only sputters out a half baked excuse about the mission, it’s enough to have you drawing your blaster. Only it's not in the holster you keep strapped to your thigh. 

Your gaze is cold as ice as you turn to see your gun dangling from Mando’s index finger. He stands above you on the ramp, apparently unaffected by your outrage even though Ran’s actions could have ended very differently for all four of you. Xi’an laughs haughtily from a crate inside the ship, she’s lucky you’re unarmed. 

“He almost got us killed.” You reason, not even sparing a glance at the man still cowering from you on the floor. Mando shrugs. Like it's nothing. 

“And yet, we made it.” He says, dropping the blaster back into your holster as he descends the ramp.

You’re all only alive because you were quick enough on your feet to take over, because you were on the guns, because you made the lightspeed calculations mid-dogfight to get the fuck out of there. Something everyone else seems to have conveniently not noticed. Ran’s on his feet, dusting himself off, Mando has already stalked off into the hangar, and Xi’an’s hot on his heels. You heave an annoyed sigh, adrenaline leaching the energy from your bones, and scuff your boots the rest of the way down the ramp. Ran catches your arm when you pass him, grip just a little too tight to be friendly.

“Empire’s always looking for pilots, I could just put you back where I found you.” He says lowly as you rip your arm from him. It’s not an empty threat. He knows there’s nothing left for you on Corellia besides an arrest warrant and a swift execution. There’ll be bruises in the shape of his fingertips by morning, you can feel them already. It’s not the first time and, if you’re being honest, you know it won’t be the last. The pouch of credits Qin hands you for a job well done makes that particular pill a little easier to choke down, at least. 

Your room at Ran’s space station isn’t much, but you’ve done what you can. There’s only a bed and a desk, the matching chair missing long before you moved in, a shelving unit and a viewport. An old blanket, loosely crocheted and full of holes, lies crumpled atop the sheets. It was white once, used to swaddle you as a baby, but that was before the sweat and the ash and the bloodstains. It’s the only thing you’d brought with you when you had to run, wrapped around your shoulders to shield you from the night’s chill at the last minute. You hadn’t even had time to put shoes on. The viewport window is another comfort, barely bigger than the datapad that lies forgotten on your pillow, but you pay the boss dearly for your view. Lights blinking on the ceiling reflect in the scratched glass, and the mismatched floor panels creak under your weight as they always do. It’s home, even if the space station itself feels like the loneliest place in the universe sometimes. With one last glance at the swirling stars as the station slowly turns, you’re practically asleep before your head hits the pillow. 

You have to pee.

One look out into the corridor presents you with closed doors and lowered lights. Sleep hours, then. It’s hard to keep track of time when it’s always night outside, although living off-planet isn’t so bad once you get used to it. Rest here comes when you can get it, as opposed to the fancy artificial sunrise/sunset lighting cycles you’ve heard about on inner rim stations. It doesn’t sound like anyone’s awake to judge you for shuffling to the bathroom in your socks anyway. 

The light is too bright in comparison to the dim hall, and you almost jump back from your reflection in the small mirror. Bloodshot eyes, rumpled shirt, you really should have done something with your hair before you passed out. You’re sure you’ve never looked more exhausted. Sleep hasn’t come easy in the few years you’ve spent on the station, dreams plagued by flashes of the reason you came here in the first place. Running, choking on the smoke in your lungs, an old friend’s blood splattering across your cheek. The only rest you really get is when you work yourself down to the bone, until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, but you know you’re not the only one. 

The door across from yours is open when you go back to your room, Mando standing in the frame, backlit by a lamp like he’s the hero from one of those propaganda movies you snuck into as a kid. You pause in your own doorway, it’s probably a bad idea to call him out on it. It’d probably only start an argument and then you’d have to deal with the only person you could count on to watch your six being mad at you.

“You should have backed me up earlier.” Your mouth takes the decision away from you. He waits for a moment, silently, like he’s expecting you to say more. But you leave it there. 

“I did.”

You’re turning to shut the door when he finally answers, and it takes everything in you not to shout at him in the middle of the hall.

“If that’s what backing someone up looks like to Mandalorians, then I think I’d rather you didn’t at all.” You hiss, exhaustion feeding into your anger. It’s not the way you should be speaking to him, or anyone, but you’re just too tired to care.

Mando’s spine goes rigid and you almost regret the dig, not that you have time to think about it before he’s walking right towards you and backing you into the darkness of your room. You can just about see the ceiling panel lights blink in the reflection of his visor. It’s only as he moves that you spot the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” You ask, barely a whisper. You’ve never been this close to him before, chest to chest, alone. The warmth you can feel even from under the armour threatens to make your head spin. 

“Home.” He leaves it at that. Never one to use more words than he needs to. You didn’t even know he had a home to go back to. There’s a lot you don’t know about the man in front of you, but he’s loyal to the bone. That much is plain to see.  

“Don’t you ever think about going home?”

“My home is here.” Your answer is final, although you can feel the raised eyebrow through his helmet. You’re no more attached to the space station than you are any of the planets you’ve yet to visit. It’s not home, nowhere is. But you’ve been here since you were sixteen, years before the rest of your team, it’s as close as you’ll get to belonging somewhere. Mando doesn’t respond, doesn’t ask any questions, only stands with you for a long moment. Breathing. He’s good like that. You’ve never felt the pressure to fill any silence with him, he seems to exist so comfortably in it. It’s easier that way, probably for you both. You don’t know much about Mandalorians, the only stories you’ve heard are the ones Qin told you drunk in a seedy cantina when Mando first joined. Horror stories. If his past is anything similar to yours, he’s grateful for the absence of questions too. 

“So it’s goodbye, then?” You’re yet to break his stare.

“Yes.”

Is he closer, somehow?

“Would you have said goodbye if I wasn’t already awake?” 

He’s definitely closer. 

Mando reaches behind him to tap the control panel on the wall, sliding the door shut and leaving you in the darkness. He lets his bag slip off his shoulder, lowering it to the floor suspiciously silently for one you know is crammed with weaponry, and walks you further into the room. You can’t really see much at all, only the steady blinking of the little red lights in the ceiling. 

“You trust me?” It’s so quiet, you wonder if you imagined the words. 

He’s never given you a reason not to. 

“Keep your eyes closed?”

“I promise.”

It takes a moment before he lifts the lip of the helmet high enough, and another long few seconds of just being without barriers for him to kiss you. And kiss you he does.

The breath you get in before your lips touch is all him, turning your insides to liquid gold. Everywhere he touches you sets a fire. For a man so rough, he is so careful, he handles you as though you’ll break at the slightest breeze. As though he is wholly undeserving of such sweetness. Part of you thinks he’s convinced he is. It’s a first and a last kiss, a hello and a goodbye kiss, the way he tries to suffocate himself in you is evidence enough that you won’t be here again. You won’t get to have him like this again. He stays close when you finally break apart, taking his helmet off completely and placing it down on your desk with a decisive thunk. 

“Mando-”

“Din. My name is Din.” He shouldn’t tell you. He shouldn’t have taken his helmet off, he shouldn’t have even thought about it. Although his fear of losing everything he has is almost overwhelming, it’s nothing compared to this. The fear that you would never know him as he is, as he has always been. The relief that brings tears to his eyes when you don’t shy away, when you lean into him. Like you want him too. You shouldn’t hold his creed in your hands but he gives it willingly. Of course he does. He’s never really been able to deny you anything. 

“Din.” 

The smile is so clear in your voice as you whisper it back to him. The way you say his name sounds like a song. A prayer. Hushed and reverent like it’s something sacred, something holy. He knows it’s safe on your tongue. Din lays you back on the bed, gently, wool of the ratty blanket soft against your skin. 

Din. He’s nothing but gentle with you. Hands barely there as they pull layers of clothing from the both of you, stripping himself of his armour, of The Mandalorian. Until there’s just him. Just a man, no more and no less than anybody else. A man who wishes he hadn’t been so stubborn and dismissive of his own desires; wishes he’d given in to this, to you, sooner. His mouth doesn’t leave your skin for a second, like he could digest you one kiss at a time if he tried hard enough. Part of him doesn’t want to leave, he wants to stay in this bed with you in the dark and just exist. Your body in his hands and your moans in his mouth and absolutely nothing else. He needs you in between his teeth, on his tongue. He’s never needed anything else quite so badly. 

The emotion isn’t lost on you, it’s the first and last time you’ll ever be with him. He’ll go after this, you don’t pretend otherwise. You won’t get to have him, in any way you want to, after this. So you lose yourself in him, in everything he gives and takes on those threadbare blankets in your room. The taste of him gets committed to memory and you swear you’ll never eat again if it means his sweat stays on your tongue. You dig your nails hard into his shoulders, you hope he’ll look at them before they fade. Hope he’ll see the marks you gave him and know that he is wanted. He is so desperately wanted and he has no idea. You kiss him with reckless abandon, cards on the table in all but words. So he can know, so he can come back. If that’s what he wants. 

You stay tangled with him for a long time. Spit cooled and sweat dried. You’ve never stayed this long with anybody, but you’re not speeding to the ‘fresher. You want to drench yourself in everything he is until you never feel without him again. 

“Take the Razor Crest. She’s old but virtually untraceable, and faster than anything else in that hangar. I think you can handle her.” You laugh lightly, tracing a finger over the ridge of his wrist where his arm is curled tight around your chest. Din wishes he could drown in the sound.

He takes your advice, once you’re asleep. Once he’s convinced himself to pull away from your warmth and go back to the life he knows. The one without you. The Razor Crest looms over him in the empty hangar, but something about its presence is comforting when he knows you were the one to put her together. 

“He took the fucking Crest!” 

The shout from the corridor jolts you awake, significantly warmer than you should be, and you find your old shirt and sweatpants pulled back on your body. Din. The thought of him so carefully redressing you, touch gentle enough not to wake you, makes your heart swell. It shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. With a heavy sigh, you flick the lights on from the panel by your bed and pull yourself to your feet. The door slides open with a wave of your hand by the door panel and you’re met with a very angry, very red-faced, Ran.

“You wouldn’t know anything about this would you, sweetheart?” He grounds out, eyes zeroing in on the mark you know Din sucked into your shoulder only hours ago. You pull the neckline of your top back up to where it should be and shake your head tiredly. Even if you hadn’t been thoroughly rammed into your mattress the night before, it’s far too early for anyone to be shouting up a storm. The rest of the crew come filtering out, rubbing eyes and calling out accusations at each other. It’s enough to give you a headache. 

Maybe a space station in the middle of nowhere isn’t a forever home after all. Maybe there’s somewhere else out there for you. Maybe it just took somebody else taking the leap to make up your mind. 

You don’t know where you’ll end up, but you have a pretty good idea of where to start.

_________________

TAGLIST (people who showed interest pls lmk if u want to be removed)

@remmysbounty​ @aq-vetina​​ @brothersdrxke​

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Play Pretend

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Jake doesn't have much experience in more... intimate matters.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Okay, so I'm not super happy with this. I don't know. Anyway, I feel like I'm always saying this but my head is really bad with editing atm. I'm sure I've missed so many typos. I'm so sorry.

Warnings: set in Steven's flat (UK), swearing, loss of virginity, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), overuse of italics, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4909

Jake shifted a little nervously as he rested his head on your chest, despite the comforting weight of your arm around him. 

He was half laying on you as you were sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the armrest as you both watched… something on TV. You watched, Jake just couldn’t focus. Even though he normally adored being snuggled up on the settee next to you, savoured any time you both had together. 

He moved again, trying to keep it as minimal as possible so as to not bother you. Slowly he tensed and untensed his legs, switching it so that one was over the other and then back around again.

There was a deep heat growing at the base of his spine, an ache between his legs. He swallowed. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom, rub one out quickly and then come back to your embrace without getting hard like a horny teenager just because you were close. 

It was embarrassingly really. How often this happened. Sometimes you didn’t even have to physically be around, just smelling your scent lingering around the flat was enough at times. The feel of your jumper in the wardrobe when it brushed against his hand as he got dressed in the morning. The photo of you and Marc at the park on the side table. That time Steven accidentally used your shower gel instead of his own. 

He shifted again. Maybe he could-

“You okay?” 

He jumps despite the softness of your voice and turns his head quickly to look at you, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah?” He answers a fraction too quickly to be considered ‘okay’. 

You give him a bemused smile. “You sure?” 

“Hmmhmm.” 

For a moment you pause, just cocking your head to the side ever so slightly as you regard him and Jack as to practically bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from groaning out loud. Why, oh why, did you have to look so adorable when you did that? 

“You need to sneak off to the bathroom?” You ask innocently, but there’s a telltale mischief to your eyes that makes Jake’s blood run cold. 

“I, erm, what are you talking about amor?” 

You gesture with your chin to his not-so-subtle budge in Steven’s sweatpants. 

“A…” He shifts again, thinking about grabbing a pillow to place over himself for a second before realising how silly that would be. You already knew what he was hoping to hide. “Maybe.” 

You smile and kiss his cheek. “That’s okay, you can go. I’m not gonna judge you. You know I don’t want you to sit here and be all uncomfortable.” 

“Hmm.” He gives you a small smile, a light dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks and the very top of his ears. “Sorry.” 

You frown a little and speak kindly. “What are you sorry for, silly?” You lightly stroke the shell of his right ear as you talk, just brushing your fingers along the outside and tucking a few errand curls behind it. 

He shivers. You know what you’re doing. 

“For…” He gestures to his crotch and you giggle. 

“I could…” You bite your lip a little a you speak and Jake pinches his thigh to keep control of himself. “Help you out with it? If you want?” There’s a little nervousness to your words, a worry of overstepping a boundary. 

While you had been physical with Marc and Steven for a while now, the most you had done with Jake had been to kiss and hold hands. Not that you minded. Jake was his own person and you wanted to go at his pace, take your time with the more intimate side of things. Or, never have that kind of relationship with him at all. You were just happy to spend time with him. 

He didn’t really like talking about that side of your relationship, and you didn’t want to push him. 

Jake’s blush grew darker. “I… erm…”

You resisted the urge to gently tease him about his loss for words. 

“I…” He closed his eyes, blurting out his words and screwing his face up afterwards. “I’m a virgin.” 

“Oh.” You said in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say. 

He opened his eyes quickly, a tense look of fear pinching at his features and you quickly realised your mistake. 

“No,” you say quickly as you reach out and stroke his hands, embracing them in your warmth. “I mean ‘oh’ as in, ‘oh, I didn’t think you were gonna say that’, not ‘oh, that’s a problem’.” 

The tension in his shoulders viably relaxed slightly and he gave you a weak smile. Looking down briefly at your hands and stroking your knuckles with his fingers. 

“So… you’ve never done anything… sexual before?” 

Your own tiptoeing around the word makes you wince. 

“Just sort of kissing, I guess.” He looks up to you with his large, soft eyes. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “no at all just… yeah, surprising.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Well,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are very pretty.” 

Jake snorts, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told.”

You smile back at him before softly brushing his hair behind his ear again, savouring his little hiver. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? There’s never any pressure, I want you to know that. I’m more than happy just to be with you like this. I love you, it doesn’t have to be physical.” 

He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your wrist. “I know,” he whispers, “and thank you, for saying it out loud I mean.” 

You stroke his cheek as he talks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… and I know you’ve technically been with the body before, it’s just that…”  

You stay quiet as you caress his face, letting him take his time. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

As the last words leave his lips a little crack forms in your heart.

“You could never disappoint me, Jake.” 

He smiles but tuts. “You know what I mean… inexperienced isn’t exactly code for ‘giving their partner’s good time’, right?” 

“I’ll have a good time no matter what because I’m with you.” You give him a soft kiss and he smiles.

“That’s not what I mean Amor,” but he kisses you again. “Thank you though, it’s just…” he pauses, thinking carefully on how best to explain himself. Out of the three of them Jake is always the one who thinks most about what they say before they say it. “It’s just, I didn’t want to just… be with someone for the sake of it, I wanted it to be with… someone special, someone I care about. And now…”

“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease. 

Jake glares at you playfully, ticking your side until you giggle and hold up your hands. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter between laughter. 

“You should be.” He leans close and lightly nips at your neck. “Be thankful that I’m in a forgiving mood.” 

You grin and kiss his nose. 

“You are my someone special,” he continues sincerely, “and I want it to be enjoyable for you, I want you to…” he trails off and looks down for a second. You can see that hint of a blush returning. 

“You want me to…?”

He bites his lip and swallows. “I want you to look and sound like you do with Marc and Steven.”

You smile cheekily. “You watch?” 

He avoids your gaze. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” 

“Almost all the time.” 

“Almost?” 

“99.9%.”

“What’s wrong with the .0?” You say, pretend indignation in your voice. 

“I’m sleeping.” 

His matter of fact tone takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly. 

“Fair enough.” You stroke his cheek again. 

“You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Marc might. Maybe.” You shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m definitely not doing that.” 

“Steven won’t care.” 

Jake nods. “That’s true. Exhibitionist that one, for certain.” 

You laugh again and then pause as both of you look at each other for a long moment. 

“Why don’t we play pretend for a bit? Help you relax and get out of your head?” You ask.

He thinks for a moment before he opens his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s called ‘role play’ amor.” 

You tut.

“All I’m saying is I shouldn’t be the one who knows more in this situation-” Jake yelps as you cut him off by tickling him this time. He jumps back from your reach and grins. “Unfair.” 

You poke your tongue out at him. 

Which he promptly returns before he smiles. “Alright, let's play pretend’.”  He sits up straight on the sofa, his hands neatly in his lap as he waits for your direction. 

You give him a brief suspicious look, Jake was never usually one to agree and behave without having some ulterior motive. 

“Alright,” you say a little suspiciously as you settle down next to him. “You can stop this at any point you want, okay?” 

Jake nods once. 

“Okay, so,” you give him a little glance and see he’s listening intently. “I’m thinking, ‘where’s Jake the most comfortable?’”

“In bed.” He interrupts cheekily. 

You snort. “No. I was going to say, driving.”

“Driving’s not very comfortable.”

“Jake-”

“Not here anyway, roads are tiny.”

“Jake-”

“And everyone’s an asshole.”

“Okay, that’s true.”

He grins. 

“But, humour me, yeah?” 

He nods. “Consider yourself humoured.” 

“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”

“I’m on the wrong side.”

“Jake.”

“I’m on your left.”

“Well, we’re in America now.” 

“How did we get here?”

“Jake.”

“Did we fly?” 

“Jake.” 

“Marc’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get some pizza, I can tell you that-”

You shut him up by kissing him deeply. While it may not always be the most convenient method of silencing him, it certainly is the most effective. 

He kisses you back desperately, sinking into your embrace and bringing up his hand to lightly caress your cheek as you lick into his mouth. 

You know why he’s talking so much. The action so unlike Jake. He’s nervous. 

He moans softly as you pull back a fraction, trying to follow your lips. 

“I should really be keeping my eyes on the road.” He teases, his voice low and wrecked. 

“Well, it’s a good job we’re on the settee then, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer and pressing your lips back to his. 

You swallow down his softly whimpered moans and trail your hand down his chest. You keep the action slow, deliberate. So he has plenty of time to feel where you're headed, and to stop you if he wants. 

You lightly palm his erection through his jogging bottoms and he hisses in a breath, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he keeps kissing you. 

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer as he trails his lips down to your jaw, pressing soft kisses along the bone before slipping further down to your neck. 

You press a little harder, running your hand up and down his clothed length and massaging his heavy balls. His cock twitches under your actions, warm and throbbing. 

Jake hisses in a breath, “please.” His voice is so quiet you almost can’t hear him, can distinguish his words from moans as he presses his lips to your skin and sucks lightly. 

You tangle your free hand in his hair, pulling lightly at the curls to make him whine as you hook your fingers under his waistband and pull his trousers down. 

Jake groans, squirming a little and lifting his hips quickly, grabbing hold of the material and yanking his boxers and jogging bottoms down to his knees, keeping his mouth at your neck the whole time. 

The heat coming off his skin almost burns. Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him. 

Languidly you run the tip of your finger down his length, savouring the way his cock jumps and twitches under your attention. The head is ruddy and swollen, a bead of forming precum seeping out from the slit that begs you to swipe it away with your tongue. 

You wrap your fingers around his girth, a not quite firm enough grip, and pump him twice in long, slow movements.

He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy. 

You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Fuck,” you breathe and quickly pull away from his hold. 

Jake makes a small sound of distress for a moment, thinking you’re stopping, before he realises what you’re doing. 

You lean down, taking hold of his cock and pumping him slowly as you lick along his tip with the flat of your tongue.

Jake groans, throwing his head back against the sofa and balling his hands into fists at his sides. 

You repeat the action again, and again. Lapping at his slit and spreading his precum across your tongue. 

He gasps, his thigh muscles twitching as he fights to keep still and not buck up into your mouth. 

“This okay?” You ask between licks. 

“Yes, ah,  yes, really okay.” He whimpers, squirming a little and biting his lip. “Please don’t stop.” 

“I won’t.” You whisper and lightly suck at his head, moaning as he slips into your mouth, and swirling your tongue around him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips buck up a fraction before he catches himself and forces them back down against the cushions. “Sorry,” his words are muffled as he grits his jaw, bites his lip and tries to not completely lose it after barely thirty seconds. 

You hum, pressing your tongue flat against him and let yourself slide further down, swallowing and sucking on his greedily. 

“Oh, shi-” he catches himself, fighting every instinct to give in and chase his pleasure. He bites his bottom lip hard, drowning in pleasure and not even trying to come up for air. 

His sighs and pants echo around the flat as you move faster, sink lower, until he hits the back of your throat. 

He gasps loudly, a string of swears thumping out of his throat in a rush. 

Then suddenly, his hands are on your jaw, lightly lifting you back up and off him. “Stop, stop, stop,” he rushes the words together and you move back quickly. 

Your mouth is barely off him before he’s pulling you into a searing embrace, his tongue dancing with your own and licking his precum from your lips. 

“You, you,” he mutters, one hand pulling at your jeans and undoing the button. “You, need you,” you’re not sure if he even realises he’s speaking, his thoughts bypassing any check system and coming straight out of his mouth. 

He pushes you back against the sofa and you let him, let his strong, warm hands guide you and push your jeans and underwear down your thighs just enough so that he can touch you. 

He sighs loudly as he strokes between your legs, the sound almost as if you were the one touching him and not the other way around. 

You moan his name, pulling at his shoulders.

“Show me, show me,” he mutters into your mouth, “please.” 

You grab hold of his hand, pressing his thumb against your clit and showing him the soft circles you like. He follows your directions eagerly, his large dark eyes mesmerised as he watches. 

When you press his fore and middle finger towards your slick entrance he moans again, gently pushing inside and shivering. 

“You’re really wet.” He mutters, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in, revelling in the sound your arousal makes. “Is that,” he repeats the action, his eyes flicking up to your face, “is that okay? Feel okay?” 

You nod, keeping a gentle hold on his forearm. “Just, fuck, thumb’s great, just, sort of curl your fingers a little bit and-” Your sharp moan cuts over whatever you were going to say next as pleasure runs up your spine like lightning. 

“Like that?” He whispers, his voice thick and heavy, his pupils blown wide.

You nod desperately, rolling your hips to chase the sensation of his fingers. “Like that.” 

He groans a little, pressing closer so he can lightly kiss your neck, alternating between sucking at your skin and looking up to watch your face in a blissed out rapture. 

“What made you so wet, hmm?” He mutters into your ear, rocking his hips against you so that his painfully hard cock rubs against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as the tips of his fingers brush perfectly inside. 

“Hmm?” He asks needily, practically begging, as if he hasn’t got you at his mercy. 

“You.” You manage to stammer out.

“Me?” 

“You.” 

“You like sucking my cock that much?” He groans, having to pinch his side with his free hand to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head. 

You nod desperately, bucking up into his hand as you chase your orgasm. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine and Jake growls. 

He watches you for a few more seconds, trying to keep hitting that spot that makes you mewl under him.

Suddenly, he stops, pulling back his hand and you practically sob, tugging lightly on his wrist to try to keep him inside of you. 

“Jake,” a deep down part of you wishes you didn’t sound quite so needy, but most of you doesn’t care in the slightest.  

“Put your mouth on me again please,” he mutters, his voice rushed and breathless as he urges you down towards his cock with his hand on your upper back. 

You nod, moving quickly to lick a long stripe up the length of him that has him moaning like a whore. 

You take him back into your mouth quickly, sucking him as deep as you can and further still. Jake’s whimpers spurring you on. 

He keeps one hand on your back, nearly at the base of your neck, pressing down ever so slightly to guide your tempo. While he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal. 

He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound. “Amor,” his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, “fuck you taste-” he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock. 

He bites back a sob. “Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet,” he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. The wet sounds cut over your own, somehow louder in your ears than your racing heartbeat and your mouth around his hot, thick cock.

Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as the ball of pleasure starts to tighten uncontrollably in the base of his stomach, pushing him higher and higher and so close to tumbling off the edge. 

“Amor,” he whines, biting his lip and gently pulling you off his throbbing cock for the second time. 

A thin trail of salvia connects you for a brief moment. You pout a little at being coaxed away from him again, Jake savours your expression for a heartbeat before kissing your swollen lips once, twice. His hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth and squirms in his seat. 

He breaks the kiss briefly to tug off his own trousers, reconnects your lips with a groan and tries to get your jeans off without moving away again. 

You chuckle lightly at his impatient scoff when it doesn’t quite go to plan. He scowls at your clothing, as if it was purposefully being difficult. Swearing lightly under his breath before looking down and tugging them off. You pull your top off at the same time, burning with need. Desperate to feel his skin against yours so keenly that it is almost to the point of pain. 

“Lay back please,” he mutters as he tugs your legs free and clambers between your thighs. His hands dig in just enough to send a shiver along your nerves, twisting deeply at your core. His stubble grazing over your skin as he places sloppy kisses on your inner knee, trailing upwards and nipping lightly. 

He moves hastily, forgoing any pretence of being able to hold himself together as he gazes at your aching pussy. He darts out his tongue, licking one long swipe through your folds and up to your clit, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste wantonly. 

“Fuck, Jake, I-”

He plunges two fingers back inside you, curling them exactly how you instructed and you all but scream. Your breath stolen from you as he flicks his tongue against your clit, circling one way and then the other before latching on and sucking it into his mouth, trying to follow directions from hazy encounters he watched quietly in the headspace. 

When you grab hold of his hair, your hips arching up into his mouth he groans, opening his eyes so that he can see the look of pleasure on your face. How you contort under his touch. 

He sobs, rutting needily against the sofa, the expression on your face almost too much to bear. 

You buck against him unthinkingly, your body taking over as you need to chase your high. His name falls from your lips in whimpered gasps, separated only but pleas and muttered praises. 

You guide the back of his head, encouraging him to lap at you in time with your hips and he follows your directions instantly, pressing closer and moaning against you so much that the sensation nearly has you screaming.

Your thighs shake as you bite your lips together, muscles tensing and waves of pleasure begin to build and build and build, threatening to drag you down over the edge in one fell sweep and-

Jake pulls back quickly, the bottom half of his face shining with his slavia and your slick. You groan in frustration as he moves, but let go of him so as to not pull at his hair. 

“Jake,” you say, a spike of irritation weaving through your words. 

He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air. 

His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity. 

“Please what?” You whisper. 

Jake shuffles back into a sitting position, both feet flat on the floor. He looks at you a little uncertainly for a split second before he pushes the emotion down. “Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” He says quietly, as if he was truly asking you for a favour and not letting you have everything you want.

You all but jump into his lap, pulling off the rest of your clothing and kissing him hard. He moans against your lips, following every movement desperately as he places his hands gently on your hips. 

With the last fragment of your rapidly disintegrating self-control, you manage to pull away from him just far enough to speak. “You sure?” 

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, too drunk on your touch for your words to make sense. He moves forward, trying to kiss you again. But you hold him back a little, pressing your hands against his cheeks softly but firmly until his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows pinched in puzzlement. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you, we can-”

“Please.” He practically sobs. The break in his voice at the end of the word rings so loudly in the room that you're surprised it doesn’t echo. You’ve never heard him so needy before. 

“Please,” he repeats, “I want to, I want you. If… if you’ll have me, if you-”

You cut off any self-destructive thought that was destined to fall out of his mouth with your lips on his. 

“If I’ll fucking have you,” you mutter against him, raising up on your knees and taking him in your hand. You line him up with your entrance before you sink slowly down. 

Jake gasps, grabbing hold of you and squeezing you tight. His face pressed into your chest as you hold his shoulder, kiss his temple as you ease him inside. 

He bites his lip, trying and failing to hold back a whimper, but succeeding in keeping his hips still. 

You gently turn his face towards you by his chin as you bottom out, kissing his plump lips once, twice before you speak. “You okay?” 

He nods, completely lost in the feel of you squeezing around him. “I’m not gonna last.” 

“That’s okay,” you smile sweetly, stroking his hair.

But Jake shakes his head. “It’s not, I want you to-”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, “I’m having a good time, okay?” You smile and gently take one of his hands and guide it between your legs to your clit. “Here, remember what I showed you?”

He nods, looking up at you like you painted the sky and quickly begins those soft circles that have you clenching around him and moaning softly. 

He lets out a choked sob. “Can feel you.” He mutters. “Feel you… squeezing, and fuck, so warm, and wet, and tight and-” he swallows his words, groaning loudly, his eyes closing as you start to slowly move, using his shoulders for leverage. 

His fingers don’t falter though. 

The stretch of him is so good it burns, pressing hard and deep inside and threatening to crack you open at any given second. 

You keep your movements steady, rising up and sinking back down, watching his every expression intently. The bob of his throat. The lines of concentration on his forehead.

His thighs shake, his lip so tightly between his teeth that it’s losing colour. 

“You want me to go faster?” You whisper and he grounds, nodding rapidly. 

You can’t help but smile as warmth runs along your veins. How much he trusts you to take care of him, how hard he’s trying to stay still. 

You kiss him hard, forcing him to stop biting his lip and let out the sweet sounds he’s been trying to hamper. He takes hold of your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

You pick up your pace, truly riding him and he moans. 

“Amor…”

“Move with me.” You mutter, rolling your hips and encouraging him to buck up and do the same. 

He whines, but nods, kissing you deeping as he fucks up into you as you set a brutal pace. 

The slide of his thick cock makes your spine bend, your body moving on autopilot as you chase your high. Your breath catches in your throat as he hits deep. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, digging into his sweat soaked skin. 

Jake's eyes snap open, watching you intently and angling his hips to try to hit that spot again. 

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles with every thrust, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he’s desperate for it. 

You tense, your muscles clenching as bliss begins to burn at the edge of your vision. “Jake, Jake, fuck.”

“Yes, please, please,” he moans, obsessed with how your lips part, your eyes shut as you get close, “please.” His thumb swirls messily over your clit, slick with sweat and your wetness, he pushes you closer.

The slap of skin is nearly as long as both of your moans as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. 

Stars begin to swell behind his eyes, pleasure spiralling in the base of his spine. “I can’t, I’m gonna- please!”

It’s a sobbed beg that pushes you over the edge. How desperate he is for you. How needy. How shamelessly open with what he wants. 

You swear as pleasure crackles over your skin, burns through your veins as you come. Jake groans loudly, following you a fraction of a second later and gasping as you squeeze his cock, milking him for every last drop he has to spend. 

He buries himself deep, pressing his face into your chest. For a second he’s weighty, floating somewhere high above everything, somewhere warm and safe. 

And then your hands stroke his arms, your lips kiss his sweaty forehead, and he can feel you, your warmth, your everything holding him tight and keeping him safe. 

“You okay?” You stroke his hair softly and smile when he looks up at you. 

He nods and grins, pressing his lips to yours in a long, soft kiss. “I think I like play pretend amor.” 

You snort. “Oh, do you?” 

“Hmm, we’ll have to do it again.” 

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[sevengraces]

The Heroes Journey (To Find A Home)

You, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, Title Card

AO3 Link

--------      “You’re right, Chat! He knows, there's no way he doesn’t. My voice was all wrong, and I kept speaking piglin instead of overworld! He walked in while I wasn’t wearing my mask!” The piglin hybrid paced anxiously as he ranted. “He didn’t say anything about that, but I just, why can’t I keep my mouth shut!”      The voices quieted themselves in an attempt to soothe the panicking boy.      You just wanted to be known      S’not so bad little pig      He didn’t see your face      He can’t mind himself, if he had figured you out he would’ve gloated      He would’ve told 

----------

Everything in quotes that is underlined is in piglin CW's Canon typical violence Mild disassociation Threats References to blood/wounds Swearing Chat Overuse of italics Miscommunication as a plot device

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Chapter 1- A Comedy In The Shakespearian Sense

    Tubbo Underscore was staring at him.

    He was only a little older than Techno and here he was: sitting in an unbreakable box on the platform he had decorated himself, staring down the barrel of a rocket launcher.

    Maybe it was the eyes, or the hesitation written in bold strokes and shaded in with fear that was splashed across his face, but Techno wasn’t sure he could fire.

    “Kill him Techno. Do what I called you up here for.” Schlatt interrupted the piglin’s thought process coldly.

    He swallowed and looked around for Tommy and Wilbur, waiting for a cue that they had a plan, an idea, anything that meant he didn’t have to do this. “Are you, uh, you sure? Cause he seems kinda, kinda stuck anyways.”

    The president glared coldly, “Do what you’re good for Blade.”

    Chat was getting louder the longer the standoff lasted and Techno fought back a wince as he looked at Tubbo once more.

    Do it!!

    Blood for the blood god

    Not Tubbo!

    Are they coming to help you?

    EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

    The voices lost comprehension in their excitement and Technoblade looked towards the boy hesitantly.

    “Uh, I’m sorry Tubbo. I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick, yeah?” He watched as Tubbo let out a watery smile and nodded bravely.

         Tubbo went off with a bang.

         Jschlatt went off with a bang.

         Quackity went off with a bang.

    Chat roared at the violence and Technoblade released a noise that started out wet and devolved into barely sane laughter as he turned his fireworks on the crowd.

    “Techno what the fuck!? Tubbo you okay?” Tommy shouted as he and Wilbur suddenly rushed in from the trees.

    Technoblade barely heard a word, head echoing with the death messages and Chats’ calls for more bloodshed.

    The Red Festival ended about as bloody as the name would have suggested and the four of them, plus Niki, fled towards Pogtopia. Techno’s head continued to ring.

    The boy slipped back into awareness in the ravine with Tommy screaming up at him.

    “What the fuck was that? Why did you kill Tubbo?” the blond fumed.

    Techno blinked, “I-uhm, I was peer pressured Tommy.” he answered dazedly.

    Wilbur laughed from the level above the three of them. “You hear that Tommy! The great Technoblade was peer pressured into killing your good friend Tubbo Underscore.” The man laughed some more, “Ho- how do you feel Tubbo, hmm? He killed you, murdered you, just cause?”

    Tubbo shrunk back behind Tommy even further, “I mean I would’ve prolly done the, uh, the same thing? I mean it was scary.”

    Tommy snorted bitterly, “Tubbo of course it was scary, there was a rocket launcher pointed at your face. And for one, no you wouldn’t. You literally wouldn’t fucking kill someone for such a stupid reason. And two, Technoblade is the great bloody warrior, a pvp master, a fucking adult! So obviously you’d be scared, Tubs, but uh, Techno here doesn’t have the same excuse as you.”

    Technoblade was desperately glad for his mask at that moment, it covered his entire face leaving only the faintest impression of eyes. Too bad he couldn’t help the anxious twitching of his ears, still he tried staring as blankly as possible.

    Techno eventually began to float aimlessly among the loud bickering until he snapped back under the sharp clarity of the pit. Tommy had punched him.

    The voices jeered at his confusion before either taking pity on the boy or their craving for blood outgrew vague spite.

    Trial

    Combat

    Pit fight

    He angy lol

    He took a half step back and swung up on instinct, easily making contact, before dancing around the angry combatant on light feet. Tommy stumbled back into the wall of the pit before baring his bloodied teeth and charging once more.

    Chat laughed delightedly at the blood smeared across Techno’s knuckles and the loose stance of his enemy.

    The piglin sidestepped once more before swinging around and kicking Tommy’s legs out from under him.

    There was a distant cheering from the entrance to the pit as well as a loud gasp, Techno heard none of it. Nothing but the rush of blood in his ears, Chat’s calls for more, and the huffing of the boy in front of him.

    Said boy growled and kicked out at Technoblades’ feet from his spot on the ground, but missed by a wide margin. Techno took a few more steps back and caught his breath, watching warily.

    Tommy pulled himself up and spit on the ground, “Fucking hit me Techno, why not yeah?”

    Techno winced from behind his mask at the ache in the other's voice. He simply stood and waited a moment longer.

    The boy laughed bitterly and dove forward once more, swinging wildly for the piglin hybrids’ face.

    Techno ducked under the other’s arms, and bounced up immediately, knocking the top of his skull into Tommy’s jaw. Tommy cried out but Techno didn’t hesitate again.

    He took a short step back before swinging on the other hard , hitting him squarely on the side of his jaw once more. He kicked the boy’s feet out from under him again and landed a foot on his chest.

    Tommy scrambled blindly for a way out but Techno held the boy and his stance, panting over the other, knuckles dripping with blood that mixed into the dirt of the pit.

    Finally Techno looked down and with a scratchy, dull voice asked, “Satisfaction?”

    Tommy looked off to the side and nodded harshly so Techno took his foot off the boys’ chest and turned towards the entrance of the pit.

    Tubbo, Nikachu, and Wilbur were staring at him. Wilbur looked delighted, eyes sparkling as they danced from one splash of blood to another. Niki seemed horrified and baffled, pointedly looking away from Tommy’s busted lips and Techno’s bloody fist. Tubbo gawked silently except for the occasional cough that rattled his chest, the only thing recognizable on his face was the shock.

    Techno rubbed his fist across the underside of his jaw beneath his mask and gazed tiredly at the boy, “D’ya want t’ go Underscore?”

    Wilbur laughed brightly and Niki stared at the piglin in mild horror, Tommy swore sharply from behind him, but Tubbo just tilted his head in question. Techno hadn’t had a single ounce of sarcasm in his voice, not a touch of humor or his signature mocking drawl, just simple exhaustion and expectation that he’d have to fight his allies again.

    Tubbo went to answer but bit his own tongue, glancing past the hybrid to Tommy’s hardened face and the stone clenched in one fist.

    Tommy Innit shot up in a rage and dove for Techno, aiming to crush a rock against the masked boys’ skull.

    Techno didn’t really understand the danger, even as Chat screamed from within his head. But Tommy howled as he shot forward, allowing Techno to spin around and simply sidestep the clumsy assault, sticking a leg out to trip the boy a final time, leaving him eating dirt.

    Tommy spluttered on the taste of his own blood mixed to become mud, he rolled over to stare up at the piglin in sharp fear for the inevitable retaliation.

    Technoblade seethed under his mask, shaking in rage with his back to everyone but his invisible audience, a soldier without honor had never received mercy.

    There was heavy pause as even Wilbur held his breath, despite his hollering earlier. Tubbo moved to help Tommy, but Wilbur held both him and Niki back, watching in muted fascination.

    Technoblade, unarmed in soft leathers and mask of hoglin bone, slowly turned around until he was facing Tommy and the rest of the room. He took a few measured steps forward, stopping and tilting his head at Tommy’s violent flinch. The piglin crouched a foot away from the boy and leaned forward until they were mere inches apart.

    Tommy stared silently with his mouth hanging open and hands clenched behind him.

    After a long moment of tension thick in the air, Techno asked so quietly that only the boy could hear, “Are you done Tommy Innit? Or do you want to do this again?” he smiled cruelly beneath the mask and licked some of Tommy’s blood from his own knuckles, continuing louder than he had begun, “Usually when someone yields, they’re done Innit. Do you know what happens to little boys who surrender in a fair fight and then attack once the victor has turned?”

    Chat laughed mockingly,

    Are you not a little boy?

    Shut up! This is plot.

    Hiding behind his mask, do your eyes give you away little runt?

    Blood for dishonor

    The boy looked up cautiously and slowly shook his head.

    He stared for another heavy moment before he laughed bitterly and leaned backwards. “Of course you don’t know, why would you?” Techno stood from his crouch and seemed to slide out from under the gravitas that had dripped from his tone just moments prior, before finally looking towards the rest of the room and huffing petulantly, “Are we even?”

    For once Wilbur withheld his mocking laughter, face pale with soft horror as the warrior's words finally sunk in through his blood hungry haze. Niki bit back a sob as the tensions finally receded slightly. Tubbo glanced quickly between the two fighters before looking Techno square in the eyes.

    “We’re even, all’s forgiven Blade. No hard feelings, really.”

    The anarchist nodded sharply and climbed out of the pit, ignoring the hesitantly offered hand and walking through the split in the corporeal audience. He paused in his exit as the defeated finally scrambled up and began to holler angrily after him.

    Wilbur shot out a hand to stop the boy with a panicked whisper of; “No! Shut up!”

    Technoblade turned around with a bitter smirk “Tommy?”

    The boy in question stopped his dissent immediately as he glanced between the tilted head of the previously retreating figure and Wilbur’s sudden concerned attempt to shut him up. “What?”

    “Tommy, the thing is, you’re using words. But this world, Tommy? In this world the only universal language is violence. And we’ve had that conversation. We’ve spoken that language; in the pit. It’s over Tommy. Onto a new day. A new plot; to destroy Manburg.” The boy smiled cruelly, saluted the rebels, and left the ravine.

[peacxhybxtch]

Some of my favorite Johnlock fanfictions:

- Tuck Me In by TheDevilsFeet 

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Anal Play, First Time Topping, First Kiss, Top Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Topping From the Bottom, Bottom John

Words: 17,593

Chapters: 2/2

Summary: Sherlock can't sleep. It's been months, but his mind just won't shut the hell off. After nights of tossing and turning in his bed, he finally asks John to help. And not even the greatest mind in England could have foreseen the consequences.

-Beats of Three by Belladonna_Q

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Molly Hooper, Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Sherlock, Beta John, Gender Roles, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sherlock, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Bonding, Knotting, Drug Use, mentions of self harm

Words: 24,603

Chapters: 9/9

Summary: Sherlock is an Alpha, John a Beta. Driven by an instinct to mate and protect, Sherlock and John spend Sherlock's Rut together... with an unintended consequence.

-Where the Sun Never Shines by teahigh (orphan account)

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Post Reichenbach, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Canonical Character Death, Nightmares, Minor Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content

Words: 11,634 words

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: John is a mess. Sherlock can't fix him, but he tries. That's good enough, John thinks.

-Softly Full of Rain by pandoras_chaos

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst

Words: 3,087

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: “I should probably go back to bed,” John whispered softly, and Sherlock felt a pang of regret at the words.

“Don’t be absurd, John,” he said instead, minutely tightening his hold around John’s shoulders and keeping him firmly in place. “You’ll sleep better here anyway.”

John huffed a pathetic excuse for a laugh against his chest and Sherlock felt his own heart clench at the sound. John shuffled a little in a half-hearted attempt to break away, but Sherlock tugged him back into place, laying a firm arm across his shoulder blades and running his thumb along the nape of his neck. He felt John shiver at the movement and smiled quietly into the darkness.

“Stay, John. Please.” Sherlock took the chance and brushed his lips softly along John’s forehead. He felt John’s shoulders tense briefly, and clutched him tighter. “I want you to stay.”

-See Recipe for Details by pandora_chaos

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Anderson (Sherlock), Greg Lestrade, Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Anal Sex, Finger fucking, Oral Sex, Food, appalling overuse of italics and Very Important Capital Letters

Words: 4,981

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: John knows Sherlock’s mouth will never water over the sweet smells of baking chocolate biscuits or a lovely roast chicken, but he’s watched Sherlock nick mince pies out of Mrs. Hudson’s fridge often enough to deduce that the man does have taste, albeit confusing and obscure.

So John makes a list: Things Sherlock Likes

-Let Me Take You to the Dark Side, Baby by Troubled_Soul (Lululogy)

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Pre-Reichenbach, Post-Reichenbach, Possessive!Sherlock, mental stress, Understanding is an Issue, slight angst, Probably not., How Do I Tag, Dom/sub Undertones, Confused Sherlock, Confused John, Dark Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, You may or may not get the feels,

Words: 12,970

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: One day, Sherlock realises something.

John’s got an air of innocence about him. Not one of a naive, clueless nature to the flaws of the world, the wars, the bloodshed, the hate; but instead of a wholesome aspect, his mind untainted by the darkness, free of sinful thoughts and evil wishes. A complete juxtaposition to his own mind. John's eyes show hope in the direst of situations and his very soul is forged from empathy, altruism and compassion. His skin is scarred yes, but inside he’s pure, he doesn’t have the evil inside of him and even if he does, he doesn’t let it become a part of him. Blue eyes, fair hair, innocent, innocent, innocent. He’s the splitting image of morality. An angel.

Sherlock wants to be the one to desecrate that purity.

-Empathy by Blind_Author

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Post-Reichenbach, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Psychic John, Empathy, BAMF John, Disturbing Themes

Words: 35,739

Chapters: 4/4

Summary: John is an empath. Which isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds. Most of the time, it’s not even useful.

-The Kepler Problem by kinklock

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Alternative Universe - Science Fiction, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Sherlock is a non-binary humanoid alien, and John is a horndog, Alien Biology

Words: 24,270

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

-At Dawn They Sleep by LapisLazuli

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Jim Moriarty, Alternative Universe - Vampire, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Mindfuck, LITERALLY, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay

Words: 21,109

Chapters: 3/3

Summary: Vamp!lock AU set at the end of The Great Game, written for the Johnlock Challenges Gift Exchange for a prompt requesting Explicit Vamp!lock Fluff. The confrontation with Moriarty at the pool goes very differently, and the resulting revelations trigger a significant change in Sherlock's relationship with John.

[lorei-writes]

Trials and Tribulations of an Unconsenting Time-Traveller

Part 1: Pleasant Beginings to a Fatal End

OC x ???*

Ah, ah, allow me to explain the odd labels situation before you skip ahead! I may need a bit of your help - of course, if you wanted to join my little game >:3 

You see, I do not outline my works, not even series (past few key-points and crucial details). This situation is no different. >:3 In other words, I have no idea who my OC is going to end up with, and this is something I am leaving partially up to you, my dear reader. Who should I have her meet? Who should she spend some time around? 

Let me know your thoughts! >:3 All that I am certain of is that plenty chaos will be involved! >:3 

If you wanted to see some OC information first, do look into the notes.

Content Warnings: fire, near death experience

One should not demand too much from life, she knew – fortuna kołem się toczy, the wheel of fortune bowls itself, anything lying ahead being uncertain at best. Yet, not even in her wildest dreams, did she imagine a wish for a lifetime of holidays could be interpreted as ‘do end my life before my vacation ends’! Surely, if she could envision that much ahead of time, she’d opt to stay home

Guide:

Each chapter you will be presented with a choice which will influence the story - a question at the very bottom of the post. Two answers to it are mine, the third one - is completely up to you.

You can add your vote by putting one of the options in the comment below the chapter.

Before I get to writing the next part, I will count up all the votes. The option the story will follow will be either the one with the greatest number of votes, or the one suggested completely by you (depending on which is more inspiring).

If no votes appear, I will simply go by my own choice. There is no set time limit of voting - as long as the next part hasn’t been released, assume it’s still okay to vote.

Characters in this story are assumed to be speaking few different languages. The following is assumed: normal dialogue notation = Japanese; dialogue written in italics = English. Any phrases not written in English will be put in the dictionary at the bottom of the work.

Maria was – and for some, it was only the matter of fact that Maria would be, always there, always available in case a friend, however vague, needed a shoulder to cry on or otherwise vent. Forever swarmed with endless stream of ‘others pass, but you do stay’, ‘you’re simply reliable, that’s why’, ‘don’t take it too personally’, she did earn herself a few surprised glances, the heels of her shoes clacking against the tiles as she exited the office and marched down the narrow staircase, never once looking back. Carried by the momentum, she strode through the streets, too preoccupied with her own thoughts to even take note of the passing trams, or lack thereof, all traffic having seemingly died down for some unknown reason.

Violin. Maria blinked, a semi-familiar reminders of the medieval fortifications appearing in her sights. She rubbed onto her eyes – when? She turned around, a steady stream of tourists flowing down the path, a park spreading wide before her. The music still taking over the air, few people glanced towards the artist, perhaps only because they needed to pass through the gate – and yet, for her, it was infinitely more surprising she’d venture all the way there, much less when all she could think of was the peace of her mind (or lack thereof) and tiredness. A sigh refusing to slip past her throat, she sat down on one of the benches, her eyes rising to stare at the cloudless sky. Perhaps she needed rest. Holidays. Perhaps a lifetime of them.

Miłe złego początki, lecz koniec żałosny = Pleasant beginnings to a fatal end

One should not demand too much from life, she knew – fortuna kołem się toczy, the wheel of fortune bowls itself, anything lying ahead being uncertain at best. Yet, not even in her wildest dreams, did she imagine a wish for a lifetime of holidays could be interpreted as ‘do end my life before my vacation ends’! Surely, if she could envision that much ahead of time, she’d opt to stay home. Perhaps she’d look through the collection of jars left behind by her grandmother, perhaps she’d sleep a little more, go watch the birds – anything, but being stuck in a fire, in a completely foreign place! Maria pulled her shirt over her nose, smoke stinging her eyes as she attempted to focus, recall the route she took to the place (although admittedly, it was a rather impossible task, given how she never walked it in the first place). Too stunned to think logically, plenty high off of adrenaline, she rushed from room to room, calling for help – to no avail.

Maria stopped, her breaths growing shorter, shallower. Was it how she was to die? Panicked? Well, she could probably bear the thought, had it not been for the fact she was supposed to rest. Heavens, at least give her the peaceful death! Clearly discontent, she furrowed her brows, dark brown hair sticking to her brow, then covered with sweat. More angry than fearful, she clenched her fists, fully intending to attempt escape, even if just one more time – all to say that truly, a little fire might be too little to ruin her time. Partially blinded, she walked onwards, each of her steps being decisive and steady… Until the one that wasn’t, her balance being thrown-off that very instant. Maria looked below herself, a man, who she assumed must have been an actor, lying unconscious over the floor. His arm over her shoulder, Maria blinked fast, her spine protesting against being overused like so. Surely, it was not the best beginning of the trip, she thought, but at least she’d have something to reminiscent.

The air was cool that night, although she was not certain as to where had the evening disappeared. Her knees buckling down below her weight, she attempted to slow her fall to the ground, the man she still kept hoisted appearing to be no more aware than a few moments earlier. Her body falling out of the state of the desperate strength, she set him down as gently as she possibly could in that moment (which wasn’t exactly gently, but not yet brutal either), then promptly falling forward herself. The world fading to black, she noted the presence of few unfamiliar buildings – and that, perhaps, the pavement below her was not quite there, at least not exactly as it used to be.

“Lord Nobunaga…!”

Maria closed her eyes.

Kto pyta, nie błądzi = The one who asks questions does not go astray

The room was buzzing around her. “What should we do about her?” “You must be desperate to seek my insight, Hideyoshi,” a white-haired man chuckled – or so she assumed was the sound, anything past it remaining unintelligible to her. “This isn’t a joke. An assassination attempt at our lord, much more so with a foreigner being involved –” “If your concerns are based, then you should not be speaking of them around her. If she truly is a spy, she would understand then,” somebody grumbled from somewhere further away. “Lord Ieyasu is right… Although the scenario is hard to believe.” “We should just poke the lass awake and ask her.”

Plenty confused, Maria pushed herself up, her gaze still being unfocused.

“Silence.”

Whatever the word meant, she could only assume. Whatever it was, it froze the room, turning far too many distrustful eyes her way. Suddenly aware of being surrounded from all sides, she raised her eyebrows – truly, she might have saved some actor, but for such a welcome... “Umm... Excuse me, does anybody here speak English?”

Lack of any answer. “Dzień dobry…?” she laughed bashfully, reaching as to scratch her head. “Where... Where are we?”

Surely, she could think of a worse second day to her vacation.

Dictionary:

Fortuna kołem się toczy. - Fortune is fickle.

Dzień dobry - Good morning

Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @rikumorimachisgirl, @bestbryn, @kink-rabbithole​ If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, do remember to specify fandoms (and characters, if you are interested only in some) :D If it ever happens that you wish to be removed from my taglist, for any reason, do let me know. I will not ask why, it’s all fine ^^

[pollenat]

NU’EST and Late night talks

➛ Requested by an anon! I hope you like it ;-; Decided to add angst for good measure. Italics for the member, non-italics for the reader.

ARON

“Good night-” *the sound of lips smacking* “Hm? Oh- You’re home late.” “Yes.” *pause* “Sorry. I woke up you up in the process, didn’t I?” “Just come here already and let me sleep!” “Coming, coming.” “You said coming, but you’re leaving.” “I’ve got to wash.” “Wash in the morning then. It’s too cold to be alone in the bed.” “I’m-” “No excuses. Come on.”

“Aaron?” *sigh* “No, I’m not sleeping.” “I didn’t ask whether you were sleeping.” “Will you get to the point then?” *silence* “Do you think I’m funny?” *shuffling* “Wha- Why are you asking whether you’re funny?” “I don’t know, just want to know what you think.” “Huh, well. You are funny.” “Very convincing.” “Wait, (y/n)! Don’t be mad! You just took me by surprise!” “Well, you should be ready even for surprises!”

“Are you falling asleep?” “No, no. I’m not-” “Yes, you were! Mister, this movie is a cultural reset and you’re falling asleep on it!” “Oh, let it go, won’t you? I’ve seen it. Like ten times or something. Need I remind you the many times you’ve played it already?” “I’m doing you a favor. This is the highest form of education.” “I’ve already finished school.” “Not the school of life, no.” “Life? This is The School of Rock, not Schindler’s List!”

“Had a nightmare, huh? Don’t look so scared, it wasn’t for real. Just go back to sleep.”

“Can you stop?” “I’m not doing anything.” “Yes, you are. I can see. Stop being passive aggressive.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” *sigh* “Just stop, (y/n). Talk to me instead. It’s not healthy to hold back emotions.” “I didn’t ask for a session with psychologist.” “But you’re dating me, so you kind of signed up for it.” *silence* “Hm? Come on. Tell me. I’m listening ”

JR

“There’s a 5.” “Ah, I see.” *pause* “Oh, a 4! Can you see it?” “-You’re right.” “There’s only one missing in this square. It’s nine, obviously.” “Will- Are you going to solve my Sudoku for me?” “I wanted to play with you-” “Babe, Sudoku is a single player game. Get your own phone!” “No, thank you. I don’t want to play anymore since you’re being such a meanie.” “Jonghyun!”

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” *yawning* “Hm?” “You’re awake.” “Ah, yes. I suppose I can’t really fall asleep.” “Why?” “I don’t know. I just can’t.” “Hm.” *a long pause* “Do you want to do something? We can play on the console.” “Thanks, but don’t worry about me. Go to sleep.” “I can’t sleep when you can’t sleep.” *shuffling* “Come on, let’s play a round or two.” *pause* “... or three?” “Or three."

“Are you still eating that?” * pause* “Yes, why? Jonghyun, I’m not giving you the rest of my noodles! You had yours.” “Yeah, I just wanted to make sure...” *longer pause* “Are you really that hungry?” *sigh* “Okay, now I’m full. Take this. And stop making the eyes at me! I could’ve just made you more.” “But I’m not that hungry. And I shouldn’t be eating so late at night...” “You-” *sigh* “You’re a baby, is what you are.”

“You’re such a cuddlebug.” *pause* “Good for me, I guess.”

“You’re so distant lately. What’s wrong?” “Sorry.” “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad at you.” *shuffling* “I just want to help. Maybe there’s a way-” “I don’t think so.” *silence* “Oh.” *more silence* “Well, that’s alright. You can still tell me? You can’t?” *sigh* “I suppose it’s not my place to be pushy about your problems. Just know that I’m here. I want to be here for you, okay?”

BAEKHO

“(y/n). (y/n)?” “Mhm?” “Are you awake?” “Yes... I think? What’s up?” “I can’t sleep.” “And therefore I’m not allowed to either?” *pause* “Ugh. You know what? Forget I ever said anything.” *pause* “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me! Dongho!” *pause* “Dongho!” *shuffling* *a snicker* “I knew it. You always come back.”

“Ugh! Let me go Dongho!” “What? Why?” “You’re too hot!” “Well, thank you? I am aware of that. I just don’t know what my appearance has to do with us spooning.” “I wasn’t talking about your- your everything. I meant hot as in temperature-wise.” “I’m sharing my body warmth with you and this is how you repay me? By scolding? I worked hard for this!” “I’m going to suffocate!” “Stop being a grump. Just push the duvet off. Some of us have to sleep.”

“What do you think?” “Sounds super cool. I only don’t understand why flames?” “Why not?” “They’re pretty overused, don’t you think?” “Why would I care for that? They’re supposed to show my internal fire.” “Eww. You’re so sleazy.” “Don’t I have an internal fire?” “How am I supposed to know?” *pause* “Don’t raise your eyebrows at me!” “How are you supposed to know? For real, (y/n)?” “This conversation is officially over.”

“Your face is so weird when you’re sleeping. Good thing I love you.”

“Are you really going to spend the night on the couch?” *silence* “Dongho, don’t be ridiculous. Just because we fought earlier doesn’t mean you have to avoid me so much.” *still silence* *sigh* “If you’re going to ignore me then at least come to bed for yourself. In the morning you’ll be sore. The couch sin’t comfortable enough.” *pause* “Dongho, I’m serious.” “Goodnight.” *deep sigh* *feet padding against the floor*

MINHYUN

“I like the sound of rain.” “Me too.” *a long pause* “Tell me about your day.” *shuffling* “Wouldn’t you rather continue listening to the rain?” “I like your voice more than the sound of rain.” “Oh- Okay. That’s very smooth of you. Got me feeling a little bit flustered, not gonna lie.” “I know. Just don’t melt on me.” “I already started melting.” “First tell me about your day, like I asked you to.” *sigh* “Alright.”

“You need to leave me alone, mister.” “Hm? Why?” “That’s too evil.” “What’s so evil?” “You’re too cute and my poor small heart can’t take this anymore.” *snicker* “Too funny. You’re too funny.” “No, I’m being just dead honest.” “Go to sleep, (y/n). I can’t handle you right now.” “Good, because I can’t handle you either.” *snickering*

*sniffing* “Minhyun?” “Yes?” *more sniffing* “Are you- smelling me?” “Yes.” *again, sniffing* “Minhyun. Why are you smelling me?” “Your smell- It’s different.” “Oh, you’ve noticed?” “I mean- Yeah?” “Do you like it?” “I suppose? It’s- It’s different. I don’t think I’ve made up my mind yet.” “Ah, you’re a master at making hearts flutter.” “So I’ve been told?”

“Sorry I’m back so late. We’ll spend more time together soon. I promise.”

“I just wanted you to apologize. Is that so much?” “Are we getting back into it? I’m tired.” *a long pause* “You’ve never- explained, what I did wrong.” “I did. So many times. And you just didn’t listen.” “That- If you did then how come I’m still unaware of what I did wrong?” “As I said - that’s because you don’t listen!” “(y/n), I don’t want to get back into the argument, so stop being pushy about it.” *pause* “You know what - whatever.”

REN

“Hey.” “Yes?” “Why are you hanging out so much with Minhyun lately?” “Are you jealous? He’s just a friend, Minki. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” “Yes, I do. He’s my friend and you’re stealing him!” “He’s my friend too!” “I know him much better!” “Yeah? Well, I don’t annoy him as much as you do!” “I do not annoy him!” “Yes, you do! He told me.” “He wouldn’t!”

“What’s with you today?” “What do you mean?” “You’re never this cuddly! Do you want something? Is that it?” “I’m just cuddling you, (y/n)! I’m not offering you a suspicious package to smuggle.” “Yeah, but coming from you it is suspicious.” “Stop accusing and just love me!”

“Do you have any questions?” “Yes, one.” *humming* “What’s in it for me?” “What’s in it for- Are you kidding me? I’m asking you to do me a favor! Me, your boyfriend, or have you forgotten?” “Yes, but you want me to go out and buy you snacks, because you’re too lazy.” “-because I want you to do me a favor. In other words, I want to help you be a better person.” “Whatever you say, Minki.” “What is that supposed to mean?” “That I reject your offer.” “(y/nnn)-” “I can go with you, but not instead of you, you big baby! And don’t try to charm me! I know your ways.” “I’ve created a monster...”

“Can’t believe you’ve fallen asleep without telling me goodnight! Cute ungrateful brat.”

“Minki?” *silence* “Are you still mad at me? Really?” “Wh- Did you just hit me with a pillow?” “Yes. And? You were ignoring me.” “Because I’m mad at you!” “Then stop. I’ve suffered enough.” “And what about my suffering?” “Your suffering doesn’t matter as of now.” “Wow. You really-” “Stop frowning and come for cuddles!” *a deep sigh* “You- You- Ah, whatever.”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios