#he is just soooo [gestures vaguely]

[artemisia-nova]

can we talk about Vincenzo Atlantismovie

[ruvviks]

– Playground.

Characters >> Vitali Dobrynin (oc), a bunch of oc side characters Total >> 5.3k words Warnings >> Alcohol, drugs, NSFW (public :^/, unprotected, rough, mentions of other sexual activities which are most definitely questionable choices on Vitali’s end), some mentions of semi-gendered pre-op body parts on a trans man’s body Context >> Vitali is in college and has lost contact with both his family and his best friend, leaving him mostly to his own devices and he’s not handling it very well

‘Hey, that’s- that’s my dress!’

‘So? You’re not wearing it-’

‘You fucking slut- Give it back!’

‘No!’

Vitali found himself in a spacious bathroom, positioned at the double sink made from black marble in front of a large mirror covering most of the wall. He was surrounded by girls- Jen’s friends, people he did not know by name and did not want to get to know better- and largely ignored their high-pitched shrieking while carefully applying his eyeliner.

They had a party at a local BD club; a fancy one at that, one session costing nearly as much as three months rent, but with her parents’ money Jen had been able to rent the place for the night. The party itself would be anything but fancy, though- Vitali knew exactly what kind of people were going to show up, and already felt a bit sorry for next day’s cleaning crew.

‘You going to run off by yourself again, babe?’ Jen asked, popping up right next to him without warning and startling him to the point he nearly ruined his makeup. ‘We’re gonna smoke pot on the roof terrace with Stacey’s boyfriend and his chooms.’

‘Nick’s there,’ Vitali bluntly answered.

‘Gross! V, Jesus- Just come with me?’

‘Don’t wait up.’

Vitali cared very little for Jen’s plans. He did not even like her- and he knew the feeling was most definitely mutual, yet Jen kept him around because he was the only straight-A student willing to share his notes and homework with her.

‘Bite his dick off when you’re done with him,’ Jen said, plucking Vitali’s eyeliner out of his hand the moment he lowered it to put it down with the rest of his stuff. ‘Don’t let him use you like that.’

‘Paying customer,’ Vitali shrugged in response. ‘I need cash.’

Jen rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t we all.’

Vitali glanced around. Not really, no.

He quickly gathered all his hair behind his head and pulled it in a bun; his signature style at this point, but the only one he was comfortable with- while sober, at least.

Jen reached out for him again, eyeliner already back on the sink despite not having been used by her yet, and she opened the two top buttons of his cropped, short-sleeved button-up to reveal part of his chest. No binder, that night- or anything else for that matter- unnecessary, since no one cared anyway and everyone knew he was a man.

Those who dared to question it always ended up unrecognizable for a week or two.

‘If you’re gonna whore yourself out do it properly at least,’ Jen mumbled. ‘Already wearing long jeans- show some skin, babe.’

‘My tits are going to fall out.’ Vitali tried to protest, but Jen clicked her tongue over his complaining and pulled his light blue denims up a bit higher by the waistband.

‘They’re good tits, V. People should be grateful to get a glimpse of that.’

Alright, she had a point. Still, Vitali redid one of the buttons.

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror while Jen grabbed his eyeliner again and leaned forward to start applying it. The other girls paid them no attention, still yelling at each other about their clothes and whoever it was they all wanted to hook up with that night-

Except for Stacy, of course. But if anything she was the only one there in need of a better output.

‘We finish at 2 AM,’ Jen said. ‘No minute later. Leaving for my father’s bar- we can get the good stuff there, then we’ll split up for Clouds and- well, whatever food place is still open, probably, for whoever doesn’t wanna go.’ A pause. ‘You listening?’

‘2 AM for afterparty at your father’s bar,’ Vitali answered, absently brushing a loose strand of hair out of his face.

‘Clouds after?’

‘No thanks.’

‘Whatever. Your loss.’

It’s a terrible place. I’m not losing anything.

Vitali clenched his jaw, but wisely did not respond anymore.

1:38 AM.

Vitali was wasted, yet unnoticeably so as always; looking as exhausted and absent as he always did, thousand yard stare into nothing while slowly navigating through the dense crowd of the club, face and arms by then already covered in neon body paint.

Wasted, and high; while he was not liked by his peers all that much, he had still been offered enough drags from joints for the effects to take place. He knew they still contained nicotine, and he had made someone the promise to stop smoking, but-

Well, that someone wasn’t there. Not anymore.

The music was loud, even with his earbuds in. Vitali had spent hours on the dancefloor already, first with Jen and some other girls, then with Jackie who had unexpectedly showed up- had briefly made out with him, even, two separate times- and then with a few random guys he had never seen before, some of which had also had the pleasure of getting a taste of Vitali’s lips.

He left the club’s main hall, darting into the hallway with the restrooms and braindance corners. Some people stumbled right into him and he was met with some laughter and yelled apologies- he politely smiled back and forcefully pushed them aside, moving deeper into the hallway.

His eyes were pulled into some of the BD rooms- people sitting on dirty couches wearing special headsets, hands stuffed in their own clothes, or others’ clothes- or hands explicitly traveling over bodies, clothes already on the floor- while making the most obscene noises, audible above the music.

Were it not for the man standing close by, waiting for him, Vitali would have joined.

He recognized him, even in the dark and with his limited eyesight now that he was under the influence of several things at once. A tall figure, broad-shouldered, pretty-faced- covered in neon body paint as well, several smudges decorating his cheeks and lips, telling Vitali he was not going to be the first of the night.

‘Vito.’

Nick could barely stand on his legs anymore, swaying from side to side as he reached for Vitali’s waist and dragged him closer, lips finding his with ease- he tasted like overly expensive wine, tobacco, and chewing gum.

‘Nicky,’ Vitali replied into the kiss, grabbing the man’s hips and dragging him with until his own back was pressed solidly against the wall of the hallway and they were out of the way for people passing by. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Around,’ was the only answer he received. Nick leaned in and pressed his lips against Vitali’s neck, hands eagerly traveling over his body- a man of actions, and especially when piss drunk he usually wasted no time.

Vitali hummed in response and rested his head against the wall as Nick began to grind against him; lips curled up into a small smile the moment he felt a bulge press prominently against his thigh.

‘Have been waiting for you,’ Nick mumbled, pressing their bodies together as close as he could while reaching for Vitali’s hair and undoing his bun. ‘Worried you wouldn’t show.’

‘Don’t.’ Vitali repositioned himself against the wall and shook his head a bit, hair dropping down past and over his shoulders, some strands falling forward and covering his face. ‘When I inevitably ditch you I will let you know.’

Nick grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged on it hard to tilt Vitali’s head up and to kiss the underside of his jaw. Vitali allowed him- strangely aroused by Nick’s rough eagerness, and strangely comfortable in his locked position against the wall.

He did not worry. If Nick would truly hurt him, Vitali could break his skull with ease if he wanted to. And Nick knew that.

‘Vito- Relax, baby.’

Nick had clearly noticed the remaining tension in Vitali’s body, and he looked up again and smiled. ‘Wanna grab a room?’

Vitali blinked slowly and glanced around- and made direct eye-contact with another guy a few feet away, chest pressed against the wall, hips rolling back into the thrusts of his partner.

He turned his head back to Nick and leaned closer-

‘Just get it over with.’

Vitali took out his earbuds and allowed the music from the club to swallow him whole, surrendering himself to the overwhelming sensations clouding his mind. Nick immediately pressed him hard into the wall, lips on his neck again, hands traveling down- briefly fumbling with Vitali’s pants before yanking them down- and finding their way to him, like countless times before.

‘Damn, baby,’ he breathed, his teeth grazing past Vitali’s skin and his fingers running over him. ‘Got nothing for me?’

‘Medication side effects,’ Vitali plainly answered, dipping his head to press it against Nick’s shoulder.

Motherfucker. You haven’t made me wet since your first chance.

Why Vitali kept coming back, he was no longer sure. He needed the distraction, he guessed- though plenty of men around to fuck, so why Nick?

Safety, familiarity. Nicky was not good, but he was desperate- and respectful as he could be, unprejudiced and surprisingly smart enough to know better than to use the wrong words in a certain context.

Yes, even when barely present anymore because of whatever he had been smoking or drinking. That was probably why Vitali couldn’t stay away.

Nick pulled the top buttons of Vitali’s shirt open, pushing the left of it aside to reveal part of his bare chest. Vitali allowed him to move his head down and get closer, press his tongue against him- and to grab his chest and squeeze hard while his tongue licked all the way back up to Vitali’s jaw.

Yes, it felt good. No, Vitali was not all that impressed anymore. Nick had a limited set of tricks which he cycled through and- even though Vitali always stayed open-minded and patient with others- it was starting to bore him a bit.

‘You look good,’ Nick breathed, fingers making a messy attempt at jerking Vitali off as his other hand ran through his hair again. ‘Dressed up for me?’

‘Sure,’ Vitali replied, gently tugging on his own shirt until the other half of his chest was also exposed to the hot and stuffy air of the club. Nick took the bait without hesitation, teeth grazing past Vitali’s hardened nipple as he moaned against his skin.

And Vitali surrendered again, raising his arms above his head and draping them over his hair as he rolled his hips forward on the beat of the music and allowed Nick to touch him wherever he pleased. His head was starting to spin a little, throbbing in his half-pulled down boxer briefs as he yearned for more stimulation, dry humping the air.

Oh, what a good distraction it was. No more worries about anything- just him, a partner- or two, or three, on other occasions- the heat between them and the building tension in his body. The loud music was a nice touch; as were the noises of other people’s pleasure surrounding him- at least, what he could hear of it.

Nick had lowered his own pants now, hand rapidly pumping up and down as quick relief- and he did not waste any time, grabbing Vitali’s underwear and pulling it down far enough to be able to force his legs apart and he rubbed himself eagerly over Vitali’s crotch, throbbing, and already moaning in his ear.

And then he slowly pushed in- ‘Mmh-! So tight…’- deeper and deeper- ‘Fuck, baby- feels so fucking good…’- and Vitali rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms tightly around Nick’s broad shoulders, a quiet gasp leaving his lips when he bottomed out way too soon. A girl passed by them, her eyes finding Vitali’s- and she leaned over Nick, standing on her tiptoes, to kiss Vitali and push her tongue into his mouth.

A heavenly distraction from those first few thrusts, she tasted like sweetened liquor and candy- her hands soft and soothing on Vitali’s skin as she cupped his face and hummed contently into the kiss. She let go, yet kept their heads as steady in place as the light bounce of Vitali’s body allowed and she watched until his eyes glossed over, and a shaky sigh of relief finally left his lips.

‘Good boy,’ she mouthed at him, and for a split second Vitali wondered if she was even real- a complete stranger, like most others from earlier that night, yet so sweet and gentle to the point Vitali doubted her entire existence. Mind playing tricks on him, possibly-

But the girl kissed him again and that sweet, overwhelming taste of liquor and candy convinced him otherwise, and for a brief moment it was as if Nick was not there at all.

They parted, and Vitali sighed once more as he rested his face against Nick’s, hands grabbing the back of his hair as he was lifted up a bit at the next, deep thrust. He watched the girl take out a black marker, and allowed her to leave her number on the backside of his arm-

He would not call her back. She deserved better than him.

‘You’ve been saving yourself for me,’ Nick falsely stated between grunts as the girl wandered off again, his lips wet against Vitali’s skin and his hands tightly locking his hips in place.

‘Bold assumption,’ Vitali merely responded, vividly recalling his quickie in the communal restroom of the college dorm of Stacey’s boyfriend with said man, from only the day before.

‘Hey, now. Be nice.’

Nick slowed down, reaching up to Vitali’s face and grabbing his chin to tilt his head up- but Vitali instantly made a biting motion at him, causing Nick to quickly pull his hand back.

‘I am not nice,’ he said, hands moving down to the back and sides of Nick’s neck and he pulled him closer, applying light pressure as he did and causing him to moan quietly.

‘Now go on- Fuck me. I know you want to.’

Another quiet moan and grunt left Nick’s lips when Vitali tightened around him, and he continued- picking up his pace, and his force, and Vitali lightly winced when Nick lifted up his right leg a bit too high and his groin painfully protested.

Should see a doc for that.

‘Come on, baby,’ Nick grunted in his ear, squeezing Vitali’s thigh. He shifted position- finally hitting the right spot and Vitali gasped, grabbing the back of the other man’s shirt and pulling him closer as another hard thrust caused his teeth to clack together and his back to chafe the wall.

Yes, Nick was desperate- but so was Vitali, as embarrassing as it was for him to admit. Deprived entirely from the comfort he had once had when he had still been in high school- an emptiness in him that needed to be filled, but nobody could- nobody came even close- so he sought out distraction after distraction and took every opportunity he could get to feel something again.

And oh, it was not good- but it was good enough, locked against the wall, Nick buried deep inside him and holding him up by his ass, wildly chasing his own finish as he moaned Vitali’s name with closed eyes and red cheeks.

And he went deeper, and harder, finally forcing a moan from Vitali’s lips and causing his eyes to flutter shut. He arched his back, humming when Nick eagerly cupped his chest again- another shaky moan, and building tension- but it was not enough yet, not nearly close enough, but Nick’s release followed with a gasp and a relieved sigh into Vitali’s ear while he filled him up and lazily thrusted it deeper in.

Classic.

A pause, as Nick buried his face in the crook of Vitali’s neck, his hot breath heavy against his skin. Vitali reached for the man’s back pocket and found a lighter and a joint- he flicked it out, leaned over Nick’s shoulder to put it between his lips and he lit it, raising his eyebrows when Nick grunted and rolled his hips forward a final time, lifting Vitali’s body up a little as he pressed him tighter into the wall.

‘Not enough yet?’ Vitali asked, sucking in a breath and slipping Nick’s lighter into the chest pocket of his own shirt before leaning back against the wall. Nick did not answer him- instead, he held still again, both hands moving up to Vitali’s chest once more and his lips traveling back up to his jaw.

Yeah, he was far gone. But it mattered little to Vitali, taking another drag as he let his eyes wander into the hallway again; the boys next to them had finished up and slowly made their way past them, the taller one giving Vitali a wink when he walked by.

Vitali arched his back again to push his chest closer to Nick’s touch, the back of his head rolling over the wall as he looked up at the ceiling to expose more of his neck- but Nick pulled back now, his hunger finally sated, and an exasperated sigh left Vitali’s lips as he dropped himself back against the wall entirely and lifted his arm.

A glance at his watch- 2:19 AM.

Jen’s gonna kill me.

Nick pulled out and fixed his clothing, suddenly acting as if Vitali was not even there. Vitali merely watched- it was no new situation to him- and he left his joint dangle from his lips as he hooked his arms behind his back, waiting for Nick to finish and redirect his attention to him.

And he got what he wanted; of course he did. Exposed like he was- shirt open, pants down- in the hallway of a club no less- truly a sight for sore eyes, and Nick hummed as he grabbed Vitali’s waist and made him sway along to the music a bit.

‘You’re hot,’ he said, another smile spreading on his face as he leaned forward again.

‘I know.’ Vitali rested his head against the wall to avoid another kiss and puffed some smoke in Nick’s face. ‘Pay up.’

Even in the darkness Vitali could see a shadow wash over his face, but it did him nothing. He did not ask much- but he needed the money, already having lost his second job in a short period of time and his savings steadily running out.

‘Seriously?’ Nick huffed and mockingly rolled his eyes. ‘V, come on. We can’t keep doing this.’

‘No protection.’ Vitali took another drag from his joint and slightly turned his hips away when Nick squeezed his ass. ‘No prep. Did not even get to cum. Eddies- stat.’

Oh, now the man just looked pathetic.

Like a kicked puppy, Nick briefly removed his hands from Vitali’s body- eyes big upon learning he apparently was not the pleaser he thought himself to be. Vitali shrugged and reached down, to pull up his boxer briefs and pants again.

‘No- No, baby, wait,’ Nick immediately said and stopped him, then lowered through his knees. Vitali rolled his eyes again- but allowed Nick to wrap his arms around his thighs and take him into his mouth without hesitation; though Vitali knew it was no longer out of eagerness, but merely to get it over with.

And again it was nothing special- some sucking and prodding, fingers finding their way back inside but reaching not far enough to hit any good spot- but at least he was there, and in that moment it was better than having to do the job himself.

Vitali took a long drag and closed his eyes, humming along to the music as Nick worked. When he opened them again, there was someone else with them- a man, around his own age, staring without shame, and Vitali reached out for his hand and pulled him closer.

Kiss, after kiss, after kiss- no one ever stayed. Well, Jackie did- but they were friends, nothing more. Vitali did not want to let it get to that.

But it was good, to kiss- to get lost in it, to be that close to someone- and especially in that moment it was exactly what Vitali needed, a second set of hands on his body and lips against his own as Nick’s mouth between his legs finally started to cause more blood to rush down, arousal running through his torso.

Okay, it felt alright now. Whether it was the alcohol, the weed, the soreness, the kiss, his exhaustion- Vitali was unsure. But he did not care, either. He rolled his hips forward, grabbing a handful of Nick’s hair as he dragged him closer while breaking his kiss, the stranger briefly moving his mouth to Vitali’s neck before taking his joint from him and putting it between his own lips.

‘That’s it, baby,’ Vitali moaned, reaching for his own chest and squeezing, pretending his hand was someone else’s. Nick hummed against him, the vibrations tightening the knot in Vitali’s stomach, the building heat-

Another kiss, parted lips against his own, tongue finding its way into his mouth and he moaned again. Yes, it felt good- the warm, hazy feeling in his head more so than the act itself- it felt good to not worry, to not care-

And Vitali sighed as relief washed over him, eyes rolling back in their sockets and legs momentarily giving out, to the point only Nick’s hands were holding him up.

‘Dripping, now,’ Nick mumbled. ‘Good, baby- that’s what I like to see.’

Shut up, cunt. That’s mostly just your own fucking fluids, not mine.

Silence, as Nick slowly got back up on his feet. The other man was still there, leaving kisses on Vitali’s jaw and cheek, hand having found its way to his chest too and thumb rubbing over his nipple.

‘Meet me behind the club, ten minutes,’ he said into Vitali’s ear. ‘I can do much better.’

Vitali believed him. Yet said nothing as the stranger wandered off, with no intent on ever following him-

He deserved better than Vitali. Much, much better.

Nick leaned in- Vitali had momentarily forgotten about him- his lips still parted and glossy as he tried to kiss him; but Vitali pushed his fingers against Nick’s mouth and pushed him back, creating a distance between them.

‘Three-fourth of full price,’ he bluntly said.

A small discount. For a lousy orgasm.

‘You’re a fucking cunt,’ Nick spat at him, pushing him back against the wall and reaching down again- though Vitali was unsure with what intent exactly and in return grabbed Nick’s wrist before he could touch him, and he squeezed lightly as a warning while leaning in a little closer.

‘And you can’t get any bitches and feel the constant need to use me as your outlet,’ he merely responded, and Nick quickly- but forcefully- pulled his hand back. Vitali stared up at him for a second, then grabbed the man’s collar and dragged him closer, until their lips were practically touching while he continued to speak.

‘Now pay up before I break your pretty nose.’

Nick forcefully kissed Vitali, hands grabbing his hair and body locking him in place once more. Vitali bit Nick’s lower lip hard in return and pulled on his hair until his head was tilted upward, and Vitali could lick some of the remnants of cum- his own, but mostly Nick’s- off the man’s chin.

He watched as the outer rim of Nick’s irises lit up neon blue and a sum of money popped up in his view- three-fourth of the full price, and Vitali shot him a sarcastic smile as he loosened his grip on his hair.

‘For your fucking booze and drugs,’ Nick sneered.

For my meds and surgery. Thanks.

Vitali leaned in and kissed him again- but passionately this time, stealing the air from his lungs as he allowed Nick’s tongue free access, secretly longing for a more intimate moment between them- but knowing very well it would never get to any of that.

‘I’ll make sure to enjoy it more than I enjoyed you,’ he breathed into the kiss, and forcefully pushed Nick away from him.

It was all clear again, now. The hallway they stood in, the music from the hall next door- too loud, and not good at all- and the moans and cries of pleasure surrounding them, combined with the smell of bodies and the heat of the air and it all just made Vitali nauseous now.

‘You’re gonna die alone, in a fucking ditch next to the highway somewhere,’ Nick spat as Vitali fixed his underwear and pants. He reached for his shirt- but Nick stopped him, suddenly, pushing his hands aside to- right, first give another hard squeeze, classic- and then to fix his shirt for him, buttoning it all the way to the top.

‘Too much to fuckin’ handle,’ he muttered, only just loud enough for Vitali to hear. ‘Why’d you think no one stays?’

Vitali pushed Nick’s hands away. ‘Then why do you keep coming back?’

Nick said nothing.

Vitali stared at him as he gathered his hair again and put it back up in a bun, pushing himself away from the wall and slowly wandering off without breaking eye contact, until Nick looked away first. Vitali rolled his eyes and scoffed, and he began making his way away from the rest of the party, through the neon-lit hallway, toward the exit on the other side.

God, he was fucking stupid.

He was well aware of it- none of his behavior was good for him, but he cared so little now. He had nothing; nobody. Yes, Jackie, but- it was different now. Everything was different and there was nothing he could do about it anymore.

The hallway seemed to double in size before his eyes, stretching out as he stumbled forward and nearly crashed into another couple- he apologized, in Russian for some reason, and tried to continue walking but it was so crowded around him again suddenly he felt himself lose control again.

Hands grasped at him from all sides, continuously pulling him in- he allowed it to happen, stopping every few feet or so to kiss, to steal a drink, to take a huff from a joint- allowed two girls to suck several hickeys on his chest- allowed some guy to cup his cheek and softly set him down on his knees for a while, next to three others-

2:56 AM.

The exit was so close.

Vitali did not want to leave yet.

He sat on the floor, watching others- too tired to stand, or try to stand, or just move at all. Had another drink, or two, or three- someone straddled his lap for a bit, a classmate, they kissed him over and over until they fell asleep and he pushed them aside- grabbed someone else’s jacket from the floor and draped it over them as they quietly snored.

3:15 AM.

He wanted to stay.

He wanted to get lost again, lose himself- but he couldn’t, despite being as far gone as he was. Too far gone, perhaps; he was a bit nauseous, still, but merely sat unmoving, and watched-

More kissing, more strangers, yet nothing helped. He was dragged back to his feet- didn’t help, made him dizzy- he could barely stand on his legs and he just wanted to go to bed.

3:41 AM.

‘Come on, come with us!’

The girls were barely drunk compared to him and their laughter was actively hurting his head. They tried to pull him along- them and their boyfriends and girlfriends- to do whatever it was they were planning on doing in one of the BD rooms, but Vitali managed to free himself from their grips and stumbled toward the exit instead.

Oh, but he wanted to stay, and join them-

‘Hey, come on!’

A hand gripped his wrist tightly and he was yanked back. Vitali turned his head-

The guy was tall, and attractive. Hair color indiscernible yet hairstyle strangely familiar-

Mikhail?

Of course it wasn’t him.

But everything around him suddenly went quiet.

Vitali blinked, the music fading into the background as he stumbled and nearly fell. The guy tried kissing him- Vitali pushed him away, and when that turned out not to be enough of a hint he let his fist collide with the guy’s jaw, a sudden rush of adrenaline overtaking his body by the memory of his friend.

Leave.

He stumbled back, pushing himself past a small gathering of people- they just stared, and laughed, said things to him and about him to others but he could no longer understand any of it-

4:00 AM.

Vitali pushed himself outside through the back entrance of the club.

He gasped for air, inhaling the cool air of the early morning hours; nothing fresh about it, but to him it was similar to the air of a flowery meadow in comparison to the stench of the club.

It was raining a bit. It felt nice.

Vitali exhaled and looked up at the sky, allowing the rain to wash the body paint and makeup off his face. How tired he was now- how he longed for the comfort of his own bed, despite it being merely a mattress on the floor.

He tried so hard to not think about him.

But it was hard, still. Even after nearly a year of not speaking with him-

Vitali was unable to even finish his thoughts.

He had to go home. He didn’t care about Jen- no missed texts or calls, she didn’t care about him either- so he just had to get out of there, somehow, and he wasn’t even sure where exactly he was.

Somehow, this happened nearly every week. He gave in, gave too much, got too drunk and too high and his sex-addicted ass would make mistake after mistake after mistake until he regretted all his actions and just wanted to disappear; and then the next time it would happen all over again, memories haunting his mind and he needed to forget- and it worked, until it didn’t, and by then the memories had doubled and next time he would find himself chasing that same high again until his faults would swallow him whole.

And for what?

What the fuck was he missing?

He knew.

He knew exactly- but he refused to think about it.

It was his own fucking fault.

Tears welled up in Vitali’s eyes. He was thinking about him again- his bright crooked smile, his bright blue eyes- the gentleness of his hands, the softness of his hair- his arms wrapped around Vitali’s waist as they slow-danced in the kitchen at three in the morning, Vitali’s head resting comfortably against his chest-

He lost his balance and fell on his knees on the ground, his entire body shaking suddenly. He finally realized he was cold; and shivered, a choked sob leaving his throat.

Oh, how he missed him. An empty space in his soul that no amount of alcohol, drugs or sex could fill- but what else could Vitali do other than trying, knowing he was probably never going to see Mikhail again?

He screamed.

Startled himself with it, a bit; a loud, mournful cry echoing through the streets of Night City, catching nobody’s attention- yet he almost wished someone would hear, and he would no longer have to be alone.

Oh, how he missed him- he missed his jokes, his tics, his laugh- the warmth of his body next to him as they slept, the comfort of his arms as they took a bath, the softness of his lips, pressed against Vitali’s cheek-

They had not been together. Not at any point in time. But there had been no need for that.

Mikhail was the only one who had never walked away, and then Vitali had lost him-

And with that, he had also lost himself.

[factorialsfandoms]

Bad Things Happen Bingo is such good angst and that's why I'd like to request something LU with the prompt "You Said You Would Let Them Go". I think this might be the only one I request tho, cuz I'd be way too tempted to suggest other prompts too.

I have combined it with captivity! As a little treat. Hopefully this is fine. I tried from the other PoV, and... my brain died. Not that it didn't die with this, too, but it was happier with it! Sorry this took a bit, longfic is annoying even if these are more fun.

How long had they been here now, sat in this tank? It had been around noon when the trio had been taken; Wind and Legend had stayed with Twilight, still recovering from the wounds inflicted upon him by Dark Link, while the rest of the group went to explore the area. One moment they had been having lunch together, the next... Twilight was ashamed to say that whatever spell had been cast had immediately knocked him out; Legend had obviously lasted the longest of the three, with so many travels and resistances under his belt, but he had no idea how long either had lasted.

Legend long enough they had resorted to physical means of making him still, Wind not quite that long.

Their captor, a sorcerer dressed every bit his part, was sat on a dais nearby, pocket watch in hand. He did not bother to address his captives, but he was clearly waiting for... Something.

Meanwhile, Twilight had already tried everything he could think of to escape - and failed in every way. It would be embarrassing if the helplessness - again - and failure to protect his own - /again/ - were not so overwhelming.

Beside Twilight, Wind was wriggling where he sat; while he had managed to slip the rope on his hands, without lockpicks he could do nothing for the chains on his feet. Twilight knew that to be true, had seen him tear his fingers bloody trying to manipulate the locks without them - and even then, he had still managed to untie everyone else's hands.

Even Legend's, motionless but for shallow breathing and blood sluggishly pooling by his head though he was.

Twilight desperately wanted to check on him, but the chain around his ankle did not stretch so far. He had tried hacking at the glass, but with his hands alone, what could he do? And so instead he had talked Wind through turning the veteran onto his side. He was bleeding slowly enough that blood loss was not an immediate concern, but it made a garish stain across the bottom of the glass.

If they survived this, Twilight thought as he tore up his shirt to bind Wind's hands, if they survived this, they were never trusting strange old ladies promising the area was safe ever again.

But with no knowledge of if that would work, and with Legend too far across the cell for his manacles to reach, Twilight simply pulled Wind against his side, holding him close.

Two big eyes looked up at him, and Twilight was reminded of the children from the village; he squeezed the boy’s shoulder, trying to give a reassuring grin.

“We’ll be fine,” he promised. “I’ve gotten out of a cell like this before, and even if I can’t work it out the others will be here soon.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Wind’s eyes glanced to Legend; he clearly was. “I just want my stuff back.”

Twilight let him save face, patting his shoulder twice before slipping into a gentler hold.

From outside of the cell, their captor was watching them. The scars under Twilight's chainmail shifted uncomfortably; when he squeezed Wind's shoulder this time, it was more to try tease his own pain.

The sailor's fingers tightened on Twilight's, leaving his knuckles white.

"Only an hour left," the sorcerer grinned at them. "And then we'll see just how much you mean to him."

"They'll come for us," Twilight took the role of Collin, promising things that only faith could believe in. "I promise, the Old Man won't leave us hear to die."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Wind muttered back. "He'll do something stupid."

Fearing much the same, Twilight could not exactly blame him.

---

As time marched ever onwards, Legend occasionally stirred, but never woke. While Twilight was not a healer himself, he knew that with head wounds... Legend needed a doctor hours ago, and every passing minute made it only more desperate. At least he was stirring - some response was always more hopeful than none at all.

It had certainly been hours, now, though Twilight knew not how many; their captor was starting to get antsy, tapping the pocket watch.

Eventually, the ornate doors opened.

In stepped Time - and Twilight really hoped that he had hidden his sword in his bag, because it was certainly not being carried.

“You finally came,” their captor grinned.

With a snap of his fingers, a multitude of people and monsters - all in robes - crawled out of the woodwork. They gathered about on the edges, bows and arrows aimed at Time.

“I did,” Time seemed calm, but for the glance he threw the way of the trio. “Let them go, now; they have nothing to do with any of this.”

Their captor's grin faltered only for a moment, "let them go? And why would I do that?"

"Because I came alone, as promised," Time replied. "That was the deal."

"Hmm..."

"You said you would let them go," Time's voice had turned a touch desperate.

"I lied."

At Time's flinch, Twilight knew that this would be the end. Nobody else was coming; Time had not even said where he was headed, most likely. It could well be morning before anyone realised he was gone, especially searching for the rest of them that they likely were.

It was hours they did not have; Time lunged for the sorcerer, who stepped on a switch.

High, high above, water began to pour into the tank. In a scramble Wind pulled Legend from lying on the floor to being sat against the side of the tank, head raised higher even as he slumped on Wind’s shoulder. Large as the tank was it would still take a while to fill, 

Panic flickered over Time’s face - not a diversion, then - and the old man reached for his bag. From it, he drew a mask - his own face, maybe a little younger, with white eyes and white hair and the red and blue tattoos burning bright.

Their captor laughed, “what can a mask even do to me? Oh child lost in time, I will have your power for my own.”

“Boys,” Time’s words were calm - unnaturally so. “As soon as the glass breaks, I need you to run.”

Twilight wanted to object, he really did. But then he looked at Wind’s hands, bleeding through the rags, and where Legend lay, flinching from sudden pain but others still unresponsive.

He had to get the two of them to help first. Help, which meant the others - if Time was here already they had to be close-ish - and the others meant coming back for Time.

“I’ll come back for you,” Twilight promised.

Time did not even look at him as he pressed the mask to his face.

The room shook with Time’s agonised screams, the pitch shifting as his body twisted and transformed. Hearing the sound of the glass cracking, Twilight threw himself under the waterline - just in time, as the giant fish tank shattered. Glass exploded around the room, covering everything in shards.

Embedding themselves in people, too; Wind had somehow managed to cover Legend and protect himself from shrapnel at the same time, though both were now lying in the broken glass having fallen with the force.

Twilight did not look up until Legend was safely in his grasp.

When he did... The screams did not belong to Time any more.

They belonged to their captors, and to a white-haired, blank eyed /god/ that radiated fury stood in the place Time had been moments before.

The god stopped screaming and began to growl.

A growl that sounded very much like an order to /run/.

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Pup Code (18+)

(SEQUEL TO GIRL CODE. Y/N IS NOT THE SAME PERSON)

pairing: college!mingyu x college!reader

genre: college au, smut (MDNI), fluff, crack

description: mingyu doesn't have crushes. he likes avril lavigne and sometimes he fucks pretty girls. but you seem to stir something in him that no one else can. without the trusty girl code, mingyu makes his own code to help you fall in love with him.

warnings: kindddaaa bad writing tihi, service top!mingyu, dom!mingyu, sub!reader ish, size kink (reader is mentioned several times to be smaller than mingyu and several key interactions are based on this fact), oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (dont do it guys...), praise (f. receiving), slight possessiveness?, mingu is soooo in love with y/n, he just wants to make her cum forever :( hes a total dork

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "fuck realistic portrayals of sex with men. im very content with getting exposed to this", "men like this DONT exist",

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: im back and i think ive regained my ability to write. thank u 2 @ryusha-rose for the amazing name for this fic, it ended up becoming a bigger part of the plot, so thank u sm to them tihihihi

This could not be happening.

Forever boring and bland, his friends had opted out of the party, and Mingyu stayed behind alone. Or not alone. He almost wished he were alone, because almost any company (even none!) was better than sitting across from the two idiots before him.

“Truth or dare, Mingyu!” Josh laughed smugly, and Jeonghan held his hand over his mouth, leaning into him. “Ohhhh, truth or dare!” 

Mingyu had been down this road before. There was no winning in this scenario, Josh and Jeonghan always attempting to pry embarrassing information from him. 

The party had settled down into a low hum. Most people were going home, either humping against another anonymous body as they stumbled out, or walking alone, jacket slung over their arm. There was no reason to stay, really, and torture himself with this circle of hell. Except, of course, for you.

“I don’t wanna do the chicken dance again, so I’m gonna go with truth,” Mingyu pursed his lips, determined to not act a fool in front of you.

He’d always been vaguely aware of you, but tonight had been his first time really sitting down with you. Contrary to your two best friends, you were cool and charming, and you didn’t seem like you wanted to embarrass him. This was already gaining you Mingyu-points, but he was absolutely taken aback by your humor and your smile and he, giddily, found himself liking you. 

Mingyu didn’t usually like people - not like he had always liked Avril Lavigne (there was a poster commemorating that crush in his dorm room) - so this felt big. He was nervous, hands clammy as they slid down his jeans. 

“Tell us about your first time,” Joshua asked innocently, mischief given away by how the older man cackled and slapped his arm. You watched in amusement, eyes flickering over to him, lashes coming over them in long, black lengths. He struggled to breathe when you held his eyes, so he sucked in a breath and looked at the floor, blushing. Damn it, he was already making a fool of himself.

“That’s so rude, Josh!” you said and threw a random chip at him. It hit him on the cheek and he groaned, face scrunching up in disgust. “Ask him something nicer.” 

“You’re so boring, Y/n.” 

Mingyu looked at you gratefully and you returned a warm smile to him.

“Yuck!” Jeonghan quacked from his seat between you and Josh. “You guys get a room! I can’t believe I let this stupid kids’ game take away from my boning.” 

“You’re so gross!” you groaned. 

“Josh was gonna hook me up with this girl from his class, dude,” Jeonghan continued complaining, forever going on about his ‘sexual conquests’. “Now I’m sitting with you dorks and you won’t even let us bully Mingyu.”

“Mingyu’s nice, you guys are just assholes,” you said, gesturing towards Mingyu with your beer. Mingyu was horrified.

Now was the time. Now was the moment to return the compliment; to say anything that might flatter you and defend you from the crooks that you apparently spent your time with. 

Now, this was a bit embarrassing for Mingyu. He had recently been adopted by a female friend group - some might even call him one of the girls, but alas! - so one would think he knew all about girls and how to approach them. The truth was, Mingyu was clueless. Beyond his daydreams of Avril Lavigne, and a few casual flings here and there, he had never actually been put in this situation. 

Mingyu thought about his girl-friends, thought about their advice and their critiques, and he knew. He knew it would frankly disappoint them if he came to them with no expertise, nothing learned from the countless girls’ nights. Therefore, he had to take matters into his own hands. 

“T-Thanks,” Mingu stuttered, lisping across the word. “Y-You’re also great.” 

Fuck, he was an idiot. 

You grinned at him and the sight of your beautiful smile, your shining skin and your gently falling hair was almost enough for him to miss how Josh and Jeonghan were lifting themselves off the floor in disgusted groans. 

“Alright, time to go. Shoo now, back to your dorms. Peasants.”  _____________________________

Mingyu didn’t need his girl-friends. 

He repeated this in his head for days, like a spiritual mantra, and maybe, he hoped, maybe he would start believing it. You and him had one mutual class and he counted down the days before he could swoop in and talk to you casually, flirtatiously, and seductively. 

With the absence of the very helpful girl code (it had certainly helped his friend, Jihoon, with his crush!) Mingyu discovered and consulted a new code. Mingyu code. 

He spent his days diligently writing down his own best advice. Some rules were more helpful than others.

“Mingyu code rule 3: always wash your hands after a shower,” he hummed to himself with a small, satisfied smile, while scrubbing his hands in the steamed up bathroom. 

“Mingyu code rule 12: go on bike rides frequently for a better jawline!” he panted, hunched over his bike, and pedalling through the nearby park in the beating sun. 

Now, Mingyu was mumbling all of his new-found rules to himself, books pressed into his chest, while he approached you in class. It was the middle of the day, and the class hadn’t started yet, people still filing in from the halls. Thankfully, you were sitting alone on your phone, both Jeonghan and Joshua nowhere to be seen. The universe was working with him.

But he was still sweaty and nervous and breathing unevenly when he finally reached you. Remember the code, he reminded himself, remember to be cool and calm.

“Hey...” he whispered, and then, louder: “Hey.” 

You looked up from your phone, smiling brightly when you saw him. For such a huge man, you realized he could look quite small. 

“Hey, Mingyu!” you said cheerfully, settling your phone down on the table before you. He shuffled to sit down next to you, jacket rustling against the wood. Your seat was near the back, so the hall felt great and wide, and a little bit like an audience to his fumbling. 

Rule 14, he remembered sneakily, always wear a jacket, so girls (Y/n) will marvel at your muscles when you take it off! 

Mingyu moved to take off his jacket, eyeing you as he did so, in what he certainly thought was a sultry and sexy look. You blinked back up at him, smiling.

Oh shit. 

Something was caught on- on something! Stuck with the jacket halfway down his arm, Mingyu began struggling and writhing in it, warmth spreading across his cheeks. You smiled at him fondly, biting back a chuckle. 

“Do you need help?” you asked. “No- No, I got it, uh-”

You moved to help anyway, tugging a corner of the jacket off the design of the chair, and he stared at you widely, because you were suddenly so close to him and so cool and calm and pretty, and your fingers danced along his skin. He breathed out a heavy sigh when it finally slid off his arms, furrowing his brows in embarrassment.

“You’re clumsy, huh?” you teased, settling back in your seat and Mingyu chuckled dryly. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, and to his delight and surprise, you laughed. You had a loud laugh. It ripped itself from your throat and bounced off the walls of the classroom. He smiled proudly at how your face contorted in joy. 

“You’re funny, Gyu,” you said, stilling finally and he swore his heart galloped in his chest at the nickname. You were so pretty and so sweet, and he wanted to hug you so bad. He grinned, then looked around the room.

“Where are Joshua and Jeonghan?” 

“God knows,” you snorted. “I think they’re poisoning the water supply of some third world country, but I could be wrong.” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh, and how couldn’t he? Because you were so smart and so gorgeous, and he truly didn’t understand how he was smitten by you so fast. There was something humbling about spending all his freetime scrolling through Instagram photos and giggling when you smiled prettily at the camera. 

Next step in Mingyu code was a little tip he’d borrowed from the countless renditions and repeats of the “Jihoon story”; a heartfelt confession.

Wait a minute. Was he skipping a few steps? Surely- Oh yeah, he definitely was. He couldn’t help but want to skip to cuddling, but going from step one to seven was maybe a bit of a stretch. Jogging his brain for his ultimate “confession for Y/n” gameplan, Mingyu didn’t even notice the lull in the conversation, while he stared at you with furrowed brows and a pout.

“So, uh,” you began awkwardly, and Mingyu finally snapped out of his daze. Shit, he was being a dork again. “You coming to the party on Friday?” 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there. Jus’.. Love partying.”

There was no salvaging this.

“Alright,” you giggled, confused, and finally turned your eyes to the board when the professor began speaking.

Friday, he thought, gulping down the shame. Friday I make some serious moves. _____________________________

Mingyu was not making serious moves. In fact, he wasn’t making any moves at all.

He’d never felt more strange, standing on the edge of the dancefloor and bending his knees awkwardly to the rhythm of the music. His limbs were mile long stretches and they swung uselessly around him. He looked almost lost, but, of course, it was only Soonyoung’s house. 

“You okay, man?” Wonwoo, his roommate, padded up beside him, eyeing him warily through the lens of his glasses. “Are you on something?” 

“No, I’m not on something!” Mingyu huffed, stopping his frankly pathetic dance moves and looking directly at the man before him. “I just… You know that girl Josh and Jeonghan are always hanging out with?” 

Wonwoo nodded.

“I kind of.. Really.. Like her.”

“What?!” Wonwoo exclaimed, completely forgoing his drink to look at Mingyu in bewilderment. “You haven’t liked anyone since Avril Lavigne!” 

“I know! But this girl’s just really smart and cool and funny,” Mingyu smiled shyly, eyeing you where you sat with Josh and Jeonghan, as well as two girls he didn’t recognize  - oh, wait, no, Jeonghan and one of the girls were leaving together. Just you, Josh and the blonde then. Wait, no, now Josh was leaving with the blonde. Just you.

Wonwoo saw how Mingyu’s eyes brightened with opportunity and he smiled beneath the rim of his plastic cup.

“Wait! Wonwoo! You can wingman me!” Mingyu exclaimed suddenly, hoping the older man’s presence might ease the interaction. 

“What? No!” Wonwoo grimaced.

“Why not?”

“You don’t deserve my services, Mingyu! Not after what you did to me!” 

“We’ve talked about this, the Jihoon-story is a very sweet thing and you should be happy to have been a part of it-” 

“I’m talking about the other time. Or the other-other time!”

Mingyu slumped, a pout on his pink lips. Wonwoo softened, but stayed steadfast nonetheless.

“Listen, just go talk to her. I have a girl waiting for me upstairs, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” the older man said softly, patting his shoulder while a drink was clutched in his other hand, liquid dancing against the cup-walls when he wafted his hand.

“I would be more okay if you wing-manned me-” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo murmured, walking away towards the stairs. Mingyu sighed and looked over at you. You were chewing your lip, face lit by the screen of your phone. 

“Mingyu code rule 17: Confidence is key. Confidence is sexy,” Mingyu reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut and beginning to walk over to you. “You’re hot, Mingyu. You have big muscles and a pretty face.”

Mingyu could’ve almost convinced himself, but when he opened his eyes, legs mindlessly padding closer to you, you were so pretty and so intoxicating, he faltered completely. 

“H-Hi,” he stammered, brows immediately pulling up in disdain at himself. You looked up and smiled immediately, face shining bright. “Hi, Gyu! Come sit down with me!” 

He nodded dumbly, and squeezed in beside you. His muscly arms were pressed into himself and leaning on his thighs, and he tried to compose his features into something sexy and sultry, when he turned to look at you. You smiled in a sort of knowing way that had Mingyu dropping his face immediately. 

“You enjoying the party?” he rasped, turning to look out at the crowd. You pursed your lips and looked at it with him. “Not sure. It’s kind of boring and Josh and Jeonghan just left.” 

“Yeah, I saw,” he sighed, then widened his eyes. Oh God, he thought, what if you thought he was a total creep - a creepster - staring at you from across the room all creepily. “Not that I- I wasn’t- I just saw it, like, casually across the roo-” 

“Mingyu, do you want to take me out on a date?” 

Huh?

“Huh?” 

Mingyu didn’t know if he was hearing that right. The words had come so naturally and so casually from your mouth, and now you were staring at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and waiting expectantly for him to answer. 

“Do you want to take me out on a date?” you repeated, shrugging your shoulders, as if it were just the weather. Mingyu stared at you with whole, wide eyes, and swallowed hard. Clammy hands gripped his knees.

“Yeah,” he breathed, laughing awkwardly. His mouth was so dry and his heartbeat was almost painful in his chest, although the tensions were eased when smiled sympathetically. “I mean- if you want to-” 

“I want to go on a date with you too, Mingyu,” you reassured, smiling even wider when his lips mimicked your own. 

“Oh my God, okay, so, I was thinking Olive Garden-” Mingyu giggled, and his pure expression of joy was infectious, genuinely making your heart soar, as this huge, muscly man bounced on the couch cushions. He cut himself off halfway, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, wait, how did you know?” 

“How did I know what?” you frowned.

“That I like you?” 

Your immediate reaction was to snort. This only confused Mingyu further, so you elected to respond truthfully: “Mingyu, you always look at me so longingly, seriously-”

“That- those were sexy faces!” he pouted. 

“No, they were longing and tender. Like pull-apart meat. And then sometimes you do the- the Zoolander face-” 

“I’ve never done the Zoolander face in my life!” 

“And all your moves are so obvious, Gyu,” you watched how he slumped at those comments, a little, pitiful pout on his lips, all deflated like a puppy. You reached a hand over to caress his arm, warm and hard with muscle under your fingertips. Mingyu immediately leaned into your touch, pout being replaced with a small goofy smile. “It was very endearing, though. You’re very cute.” 

“I was going for sexy,” Mingyu said, mood lifted at your compliment, but still a little pouty.

“Then go sexy on our date,” you squeezed his bicep in your hand and he perked up. “Now that you know I like you too.” 

Hearing those words, that admission, Mingyu smiled to himself. 

Mingyu Code; he truly was genius. _____________________________

“So no Olive Garden?” you quipped, standing outside of a more upscale restaurant - candlelit and warm and Italian. Mingyu shook his head. He’d thought Olive Garden would woo any girl, but after triumphantly boasting to his girl-friends (mothers), that he’d gotten a date with a girl he liked, he’d been nothing but scolded by the restaurant choice (“A girl wants to feel pampered! Olive Garden is for post-6-month-relationships!” Yeri had squawked). 

“Not until in six months,” Mingyu said, shrugging when you lifted a brow in question. Cars were bustling past where you were standing on the sidewalk. Grass sprouted from the cracks in the cement and people idled past where the two of you were facing each other, your head craning up to his. “Wanna go inside?” he asked.

Mingyu had become more at ease, following your admission. You liked him too, he tried to remember, whenever the butterflies batting around his curving ribcage became too much. And it was becoming too much now, with how your lips spread in a smile and you nodded at him.

You walked in, hand in hand. The tables were fine, polished wood and there was a slightly-stained, white tablecloth draped over the rounded surface of the table. Sneakily, Mingyu nudged some salt and pepper shakers over the yellow splotches on the fabric, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and that you’d feel pampered. You were busy looking at the menu. 

Mingyu asked about everything - not because of Girl Code or Mingyu Code or whatever other bullshit way to woo a woman. No, he asked because he was sincerely and utterly interested in you, what made you you, what habits you got from your childhood, what made you choose your major, how you knew Josh and Jeonghan. You were so beautiful in the light of the restaurant, but more importantly, you were the most infatuating individual Mingyu had ever laid his eyes on. Maybe even more so than Avril Lavigne. 

You got to talking about Mingyu Code. 

“Well, it was because of my friends. They have Girl Code, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s God’s rules,” you hummed, sipping on a soda. 

“Mhm, and my friend followed Girl Code and he got with this girl he really liked.” 

“Mhm.” 

“But I decided to make Mingyu Code. Which is about being sexy and charming.” 

“You were none of those things,” you teased, but Mingyu had gained confidence and he leaned back in his seat with a smirk, stretching out his arms, as if gesturing to the restaurant. 

“Well, I beg to differ. You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

“I suppose I am,” you smiled, admitting defeat. “Although I don’t think you were following Mingyu Code.” 

“Yes, I was, I made it. I’m the founder of that shit,” Mingyu grimaced.

“Well, if Mingyu Code is about being sexy, then you definitely accidentally followed some other code.”

“Wha-”

“Puppy code. You’re like a big, clumsy puppy. Yeah,” you nodded to yourself, satisfied with your new name for Mingyu’s terrible, horrible guide to wooing you. “Pup Code.” 

“Why does everyone call me that?” Mingyu whined, crossing his arms and pouting. Your plates were empty and streaks of cream sauce sludged up the sides of the porcelain. 

“You give off major himbo vibes,” you said.

“I’m smart, though,” Mingyu huffed. You smiled fondly at his bratty expression. 

“I know you are.” 

Mingyu caught your eye and caught the sincerity in them, and it made his whole body ache and flutter. You liked him too, it was clear and not something Mingyu had to tell himself, it was right there, right behind your retina, twinkling at him. 

“Do you wanna..?” Mingyu trailed off, pointing his thumb to the door. You pursed your lips.

“What if I wanna take it slow?” You asked, and it was almost adorable how Mingyu’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently and seriously. 

“That’s okay! We can- we can totally do that,” he said decidedly, as if it weren’t a bother at all (because it wasn’t). 

“Okay,” you nodded, letting go of your now finished drink. “But if I want you to take me to your room right now and fuck me?”

Mingyu whipped his head to yours, the way a door bursts open. You saw him swallow, throat dry and heavy, and biting his lip.

“That- That would be okay, too,” Mingyu said shakily, blushing furiously. Images flashed his mind of you in less-than-sacred scenarios, and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward them away. 

“Okay, then let’s go,” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“To my room?” He almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.” 

“Okay, fuck, let me just pay.”

Mingyu didn’t think he’d ever paid and left a restaurant so fast, and he was enamored with you enough to completely skip the step where he contemplated whether or not the staff secretly hated him. You and him walked hand in hand, as he practically dragged you through the street back to the dorms, his long legs working faster and more efficiently than your own. You half wanted to complain at the brutal pace, but you couldn’t lie. You needed him just as much as he needed you. And he knew that too. 

Thankfully the restaurant wasn’t too far from the dorms, and Mingyu had frantically texted Wonwoo to “get out or he’d be squirted with semen” (a threat that Wonwoo didn’t need to hear twice!), so after ten minutes and some sore legs on your part, Mingyu and you scrambled into his room.

Mingyu liked the privacy, you realized, because it wasn’t until the door was closed, and you both were sealed away in the Mingyu-zone, that he finally walked up to you, hands finding your waist with a confidence you didn’t think possible for him.

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispered, somewhat out of breath from the climb up the stairs. You smiled at him. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.” 

And then he pounced. His plush lips were soft and well-moisturized, and his annoying, perfect nose brushed against yours; in fact his whole stupidly gorgeous face was pressed into yours, as your lips thrummed together, and you were conjoined into one being by the lips. 

His hands ran up and down your sides, finally taking hold firmly, only to pull you into his lap when he settled on the edge of his bed. You straddled his lap, as your lips danced, his tongue peeking out to enter your mouth. You moaned gratefully. Involuntarily, your hips rolled into his, and the jolt reverberated all the way up to his lips where he cried out and panted against your mouth. 

“You’re so pretty,” he said in between heated kisses. 

“So are you,” you said. He pulled away and smiled up at you, and he was truly worthy of the puppy-title, because his grin was so goofy and his eyes twinkled and he was so warm against you, it almost hurt. 

Carefully, he pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts over your t-shirt, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes. “Can I eat you out?” 

The way he said it like he was completely and totally enamored with you (he was), like it was in this very moment of sitting on his lip and running your hands up his huge arms, that he was falling in love with you (it was), almost made you bashful. Your smile, usually cheeky and teasing, came small and shy. 

“Yeah, I-I wouldn’t mind that at all,” you responded, cursing at yourself for letting your confidence falter. However joy spread on Mingyu’s face like the ever-expanding universe spreads into endless empty space, because for once the tables were turned, and you were right underneath his hands, and he was flustering you. 

It had him pushing you onto his bed, head falling into the depths of his pillow, and working at your skirt to shimmy it down your legs. You lifted your hips in help and soon enough that and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Mingyu, with his black tee and his big arms and his sweetest-hottest face on Earth, settled between your legs with a dumb grin. 

“I can’t believe-” he cut himself off with a satisfied sigh, staring at your pussy. You were pushing yourself up by your arms, looking at the man-child between your legs just staring at your core as if it were his most prized possession. “I-I can’t believe I get to have you like this. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Mingyu’s face fell (it was almost comical), and his eyes snapped up to yours. “Wait, are you mine? You are mine, right?” 

You giggled fondly. “Yeah, I’m yours, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s grin returned immediately and he nodded happily, eyes turning back to your pussy. 

“It’s so pretty,” he sighed, fangs poking out where his smile ended. One finger ran through your folds, wet from the making out and all the heated stares from lovedumb Mingyu. You whined a little at the pressure when his finger reached your clit. He was so close you could feel him panting against it. 

“Mingyu, please, stop staring at it, and do something,” you cried and Mingyu pursed his lips and nodded. “Right, yeah, sorry.” 

And then he dived in. 

His nose pressed into your clit as soon as he pushed his head in, tongue stuck out to lick at your folds. Your hands flew to his hair, a desperate moan leaving you. It was a little embarrassing how loud he was, huffing and puffing at your pussy, but you couldn’t complain when his tongue traced up from your hole to your clit, lips wrapping around it. 

“A-Aah, M-Mingyu-” you cried and pushed his head further into your core, while your hips canted off the mattress. The press of his nose was amazing, and his breaths danced across your nerves. “S-Shit, that feels so good.” 

Mingyu was totally lost in you though. Your taste on his tongue, your soft thighs underneath his hands where he pushed you apart, your moans, and the desperation in your movements. The fact that you were so catty and witty, but with a few flicks of his tongue, your facade fell and you became a whiny, desperate mess, begging for him. And he loved to give it to you. He loved that you felt good, he loved being the one to make you feel good. Lapping and panting into your pussy, Mingyu started to think he didn’t ever need to leave. You could just feel good forever! The logic was flawless.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried and you came on his tongue, cum seeping out of your sopping pussy. Mingyu, strong and tan and shiny Mingyu, didn’t stop though. Too enchanted by your soft moans and your nail in his roots, and your juices on his lips, he kept at it, tongue-fucking you to slurp up the cum. 

“M-Mingyu-” you whimpered softly, and his only response was a grunt, and one hand sliding off your thighs to prod at your entrance. “M-Mingyu, I-I already came!” you cried, more insistent. 

“You can cum again,” he mumbled gruffly, two fingers pushing into you. The feeling was so intense your voice became strangled and your chest pushed off his bed.

“Just say if you wanna stop, then I’ll stop,” his tone was almost challenging, as he pulled his face away from your dripping pussy and his fingers stilled inside you to give you a chance to answer. You looked down at him, panting, as he waited expectantly. Your ‘stop’ didn’t come. 

“That’s what I thought,” Mingyu grinned again, and God, this time it was sexy; not endearing, not awkward, not clumsy. It was so incredibly hot and he dived right back to your pussy, tongue swaddling your folds and fingers beginning to pump in and out. 

Your clit grinded against his face, slick smearing all over him, but he didn’t seem to care one bit, your cum on his cheek and two fingers working inside you, curling into your g-spot. “Cum again,” he gasped in between sucking on your clit with pointed lips. “Cum again, I wanna hear it again. You sounded so pretty, please, cum again. On my fingers now.” 

And he was rambling for sure, but it was working for you, because for the second time that night, a knot tightened in your belly and the string were pulled tighter and tighter with each lick and suck, and eventually it snapped, and your whole body spasmed and your pussy pulsated around his thick fingers. 

This time, he did stop. You closed your eyes and heaved for air, lying completely still in the sheets of his bed and panting for air. Mingyu smiled cheekily, pulling his fingers out of your sensitive pussy and licking them clean. As if it was nothing. As if it was juice from a popsicle, his tongue peaked out and he sucked your essence off of them, groaning at its taste. 

“Can you go on again? You taste so good,” he hummed, eyeing your fucked-out state. Your cheeks were flushed and strands of hair stuck to your sweaty face. You shook your head. “No, no, I want your cock now.” 

“Anything for you,” Mingyu agreed, shuffling to take his clothes off while you regrouped. 

It was not long before he was climbing over your body, so fucking huge and covering your entire form in his own, muscles flexing when he lowered himself onto you. As if by nature, Mingyu, tan and glistening in the bedside lamp, grabbed you by under your knees and pushed them to your chest, pressing them into you. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” he pressed a kiss to one of the knees that was now folded over you. “Can I fuck you like this?” 

“Please!” you sobbed, because the position, and his strong hands holding you there, and your own slick covering his face had your pussy dripping onto his bed, and you could practically feel the heavy presence of his dick, even if it wasn’t touching you yet. 

Mingyu tilted his head as he looked down at you. You were so easy to admire. It was so easy for him to fall into every little jerk and breath and crevice of your face, and you looked so beautiful underneath him, Mingyu started to think he wanted nothing more for the rest of his life than to make you feel this good. 

“Okay,” he whispered, and only then did you notice how he stared at you, because there was something very tender in his voice. Adoration poured directly from his heart and into you.

Before you could get lost in his warm eyes, he moved one hand down to steer his dick into you. You cried out when you felt it pressing against your slit, cried even more when it started pressing into you. 

You had suspected Mingyu might be big, but nothing could’ve prepared you for each inch that seemed to endlessly plunge into your heat. Stretching you out like a rubber band, Mingyu finally bottomed out in you, his hard pelvis resting against your mound. 

“Shit, Gyu, y-you’re so fucking big,” you gasped, and then opened your eyes to see him smirking proudly. It made you giggle. He hummed giddily, looking down at your stomach. 

“You’re just so fucking small,” he said then, pressing one hand to your stomach, and then groaning when he could feel his dick inside you. “Shit.” 

At that, Mingyu started pounding into you. His pace was fucking relentlessly, something seemingly awakened in him at the bulging in your stomach. “Shit, shit, shit, my tiny, pretty baby, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

The praise had you reeling into him, it had you crying out and gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, while he worked up a sweat pistoning in and out of your pussy. You moans were shaken from the impact of his dick in your pussy. “Shit, so fucking tight, can hardly fucking take me.” 

“G-Gyu, f-fuck-” 

“But you’ll take it, hm? Fuck, I wanna make you cum so much more, jus’ have you in my room, making you cum over n’ over again. Shit.” 

You had not pegged Mingyu as a dirty talker, and you weren’t even sure if he was aware of what he was doing. Something about having his dick inside you, warm walls just pulled one dirty slew of words out after another. He’d never fucked a girl like this, never felt compelled to tell her exactly what she was doing to him. Not like with you.

You were so gorgeous to him, the way your chest bounced, and your eyes were screwed shut and how your mouth was opened in continuous, strained moans. It was how your hair bunched up on his pillow, and how your skin felt against his, and how you clenched at every word he spewed, while grinded into you like you were the only other person in the world. 

“F-fuck, my pretty fucking baby, you’re mine, right? Say it and I’ll make you cum forever, jus’-” he groaned, as your pussy clenched down on him extra tight. His pace fell and his hands on your knees dug into the skin. “Jus’ say you’re mine, please, Y/n.” 

“I-I’m yours, Gyu!” you cried out, his pace speeding up again and another orgasm bubbled in your stomach, and you pussy clenched embarrassingly hard for embarrassingly long. “Only yours, fuck.” 

“That’s right. Cum again, let- let me hear it one more time, yeah?” 

You came. Again. Clenching down so hard, and face twisting in pleasure, cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, still inside you.

Your third orgasm was a melodious song, and you moaned to it so loudly, you knew people three halls over would be wondering what was going on. But you could care less, letting his presence, his smell, his being above you drag more bursts of pleasure out of your body. 

Your breathing calmed down again, your soul traveling down from a sky-high mountain, and you started to feel it all again. Your orgasm had been so blinding, you had lost all of your senses but the blinding white explosion in your stomach, and now sighed heavily, pushing yourself up a little.

To your surprise, Mingyu’s hold on your knees didn’t let up, and it took you a moment to realize that his dick was still extremely hard inside you. He hadn’t cum yet.

“Want you to cum again,” Mingyu smiled sheepishly, adjusting his position to be able to pound into you again. You looked at him incredulously, and he chuckled a little, shrugging. “Just say if you want to stop.”

“Safe word is ‘pup’.” 

[tkaulitzlvr]

can you make a tom!sub? also i am INLOVE with all your writings💓💓

i was thinking if you could write tom being submissive and the (female) reader not letting him finish untill she says so?also if the story could contain some stuff like handcuffs and you know you know... ( only if your comfortable! )

thank you again and no rush! take your time💓

PLEASE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: after tom loses a bet that the two of you had made, as promised he has to face his consequence - which involves the roles you usually have in bed completely reversing for the first time.

content: smut

a/n: sub tom has been requested soooo much on my account and honestly i’ve avoided it cause in my eyes he’s like the most obvious dom and that’s all i see him as…but him as a sub is just as hot so i finally decided to write it - i hope it lives up to ur expectations🙏

my eyes light up when i watch tom look down with a cheesy grin plastered on his face, no longer able to hold eye contact after i had blown him a kiss and winked from behind the barrier. i can just about distinguish his features from the dull flashing lights of the venue, and most importantly, the way his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. i made him blush. the bet which, in any other circumstance would be completely ridiculous, had never meant so much until now. the whole idea is somewhat stupid, tom deciding that it would be fun to see who could make the other blush first - clearly under the impression that he would win. the reward, though not explicitly discussed, is the thing that excites me the most, the endless possibilities from the vague prize of ‘getting whatever you want from the other person’ too good to pass up.

and by the way tom shoots me a quick glance, a defeated smile tugging on his lips, he knows that he has lost too. he shakes his head and mutters something under his breath - not that i can hear it, the speakers blasting out the band’s music paired with psychotic fans’ screams stop me from hearing even what the person next to me is saying. his fingers resume their fast-paced strumming on the guitar splayed across his lap, eyes occasionally darting in my direction until he stands on the stage above me, in line with the rest of his band.

“thank you so much for coming tonight paris. we love you all and hope to see you again soon, goodbye!” bill’s voice is followed by thousands of high-pitched screams, the irritating sound only seeming to get louder when tom snatches the microphone from his brother, shouting ‘thankyou’ to the crowd in his thick german accent.

i make my way to the backstage area whilst tom and the rest of the band say goodbye to the fans, throwing drum sticks and guitar picks into the crowd as they would after every show. i flop down onto one of the couches, the loud screaming still not slowing down as i wait for tom to exit the stage, knowing that he won’t be thrilled after losing the bet he was so eager to initiate.

“you did so good baby, i’m so proud of you!” i smile widely when tom walks through the door, standing up from the sofa and engulfing him in a tight hug, burying my head into his shoulder. he smiles weakly, planting a soft kiss into my hair and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“thank you schatz.” he mumbles, his voice somewhat sad despite the wide smiles that remain etched on the rest of his band members faces - the show they have just performed being one of their best so far, practically flawless. tom pulls away and moves to sit on the couch behind me, sighing frustratedly and spreading his body across it. i don’t need to ask why he is so upset - not only because the reason is totally obvious, but he decides to express his annoyance himself.

“i can’t believe you won.” he groans, tilting his head back and letting it rest against the back of the couch. he gives me a small smile, not intending to seem mad with me, instead he seems annoyed with himself. he opens his arms out, gesturing for me to join him on the couch. i move over, sitting beside him as he wraps an arm around me.

“have you thought of anything yet? for your reward, i mean.” the pads of his fingertips run along my arm, his chin resting on my head as i smile slowly, knowing the answer to his question the second he had asked it - hell, i had known exactly what i would do if i won the second he proposed the bet.

“i think i have something in mind.”

“you want to be in control?” his face displays a mix of confusion and interest, his eyebrows raised, slight smirk on his lips. i nod my head, moving closer forward as i already straddle his lap with my hair disheveled and lips swollen - tom having initiated something the second we had entered the hotel room. things didn’t turn out the way he had expected though, my hand resting firmly on his chest when he had attempted to climb on top, as he did every other time.

he tilts his head to the side, seeing that i am completely serious about this. his hands find my waist, fingers threading through the loops in my jeans as he grinds my hips over his already prominent erection. i shake my head when he tries to manoeuvre my hips again, placing my hands over his and stopping his movements entirely. his eyes widen, body stuck in place as he seems startled by my sudden change in attitude, knowing that usually i would be underneath him in this moment. he shifts around a little, squirming beneath me and sitting up slightly, his back now resting against the headboard as my legs are wrapped around his waist.

“stay still.” i rest my hands flat against his chest, watching as his mouth falls open a little, lips parted as he looks up at me, his gaze bordering desperate as i can tell that he wants me to do something, though he doesn’t know how to say it.

i shift my hips to get closer to him, a low groan leaving his lips in the process, soon cut off when i press my lips to his own, his noises muffled into my mouth. and when i begin to grind against him at a more consistent pace, his ability to kiss back seems to diminish by the second, his breath hitching in his throat. i pull away, watching as his face falls in disappointment, clearly wanting more than just a kiss. and i plan on giving him that, as long as he uses his words, just as he tells me to.

though words can wait for now, my actions taking control as i reach forward, my hands finding the hem of his t-shirt as i lift the material upward and off of his frame, revealing his toned upper half. i throw it to the floor somewhere, returning my attention to tom as his hands reach out, attempting to pull my own small crop top off. he doesn’t get far though, his hands roughly returned to his side as i shake my head.

“no touching. not unless i say so.” he seems to understand that he has next to no control right now, that he can do nothing but wait on me, and i can tell that it irritates him, a low groan sounding from his lips. my eyes never tear away from his own, watching the way he stares intently at my cleavage, eyes drinking it all in as i lift my top over my head, revealing the small lace bra holding my breasts in place. his tongue comes out to flick the small metal piercing that rests on his bottom lip, eyes quickly darkening.

“fuck baby…let me touch you- please.” his voice is barely above a whisper, bordering between frustrated and desperate, both causing him to go next to insane as i deprive him of the one thing he relies on to show affection - touch. he begins to squirm beneath me, attempting to create some sort of friction between us, his hips moving up and down along my clothed heat.

“sit still or you won’t get to touch me at all. you have to be patient.” i scold, watching as he nods his head, his movements soon slowing, cut off by his breath hitching in his throat when my hands make contact with the small metal button of his jeans, undoing it slowly. his eyes stay locked on my fingers, watching as i tug the zipper down, showing no resistance and instead bucking his hips upward and allowing me to slide the denim off of his body when i tug it downward, the material pooling at his feet. i quickly slip out of my mini-skirt, our underwear now the only thing separating us, and i can tell that it drives him crazy.

his chest rises up and down, a thin coat of sweat lining his forehead as his entire body jolts with even the slightest of movements, desperate whines leaving his lips when my hands finally palm him through his boxers, the first bit of attention i give towards the place where he craves it most.

“fuck…oh god, oh my god.” his head falls backward, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when i run the palm of my hand up and down his length, still separated by the thin fabric of his boxers. his erection seems to get more and more painful with each second, every gentle touch i press to his clothed dick generating more sounds from his parted lips - small whines soon turning to loud groans, to the point where he can’t handle it any longer.

“please schatz…do something…need it so bad-shit!” his eyes squeeze shut, wincing slightly when i touch his tip through his boxers, this area more sensitive than the rest of him. despite his pleas, i decide to go that little bit further, knowing how crazy it will drive him.

“what do you want me to do tom?” my voice is low, crossing the line between innocent and seductive, creating a sickly mix of the two that seems to drive him crazy. my head moves downward, lips directly against his ear as i take his lobe in my mouth, biting it lightly before releasing it, feeling the way his whole body shivers below me. my lips make contact with his neck, placing slow kisses, just enough to tease him a little more. “you have to tell me what you want baby.”

“you want my hands?” i whisper into his ear, my hand trailing to palm him once again, yet another groan falling from his lips. “or my mouth, maybe?” i take the skin of his neck between my teeth, sucking slowly before letting it go, my tongue running over it momentarily. he stays quiet, his breathing heavy and body becoming more restless.

“or…” i add, pausing for a few seconds, buying time to leave him guessing, pulling back to study his face, the sight enough to resemble heaven on earth - or at least something pretty damn close to it. his eyes are half-lidded, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue poking out of his mouth. he watches me intently, eyes fixed on my hand as it moves to grab his own, trailing downward to my clothed heat, placing it flat against my panties. “do you want this?”

he nods his head rapidly, fingers trying to pull the lace from my lower half, not getting far as i pull them back, leaving him even more desperate than he was seconds ago.

“need to be inside you.” he whines, sighing under his breath and adjusting himself once again, thrusting his hips ever so slightly in the hopes that he will feel any contact, even if it is only for a second. but when i smile weakly above him, sitting up a little and reaching for my panties, his eyes visibly light up, thrilled by the possibility of finally getting what he wants. i step out of my underwear, fingers finding the clasp of my bra and removing it from my frame. tom’s eyes scan my body hungrily, starting at my now exposed breasts, moving down to my lower half. his hands reach outward, making contact with my waist as he pulls me closer to him. i let him this time, watching the way relief takes over his expression from being granted the simple permission of touching my body.

the pads of his fingertips trail upward, moving along my stomach, just about to touch my breasts before i stop him, much to his frustration.

“please baby…can’t take it- need you so bad, need to touch you…” he is practically begging at this point, his body tired and sweaty beneath me, desperate for any sort of relief.

“wait.” i state simply, showing him no sympathy, though my actions seem to act as some consolation as my hands make contact with the waistband of his boxers, fingers dipping underneath them teasingly. his breath catches in his throat, breathing becoming even more erratic as i get closer and closer to giving him what he wants, before tearing away his hope and moving my fingers almost completely away. i tug on the waistband, slipping my fingers in once again, inching closer to his dick, the presence of his boxers frustrating to him as i can only do so much with them there. my hand finds his length as i run a single finger down it, a loud moan pouring from tom’s lips as his head falls backward. i struggle to fit another finger into his boxers, the fabric restricting my movements too much - and it drives him insane.

“fuck schatz…take ‘em off, please…just take them off.” he whines loudly, groaning when i slip my hand out of his boxers, only to tug them down ever so slowly, almost too slowly for tom as he bucks his hips slightly. his dick springs free, hitting his lower abdomen and god, the sight is enough to make me cum on the spot. it is almost painfully hard, the veins within it more prominent than ever, the tip red as pre-cum spills out of it. i almost pity him, watching how he grunts at the slight touch of my fingers wrapping their way around the base.

he hisses when i pump him a few times, my thumb moving to swirl around his tip, his mouth falling open whenever i apply pressure. i don’t give him too much, though, nothing that brings him anywhere close to his release, just enough to show him what he can receive, and he craves for more.

“please just sit on it, please schatz…i can’t, want you so bad- fuck!” he attempts to bring one hand to his hard dick, stroking it once before i pull him away roughly, swatting his hand and placing it by his side.

“what did i say, hm? you have to listen to me to get what you want.” all he can do is nod his head, far too focused on my actions as i speak his eyes glued to my heat as i begin to move forward, lifting my hips upward so that his tip is aligned directly with my entrance. my hands place themselves on his shoulders, maintaining a firm hold before slowly sliding downward, taking just the tip inside of me. he whines loudly, hands flying to rest on my waist, his fingers already digging into the skin, bound to leave marks.

i lift my hips upward after a few seconds, his tip sliding out of me as he whines in frustration, desperate for something, anything, besides from being teased like this. he knows that there is no point in trying to do anything himself - realising that i will just stop him. instead, he watches impatiently as i shift my hips downward again, taking a little more inside me than i did last time. i moan quietly at the sensation, his dick slowly stretching me out as i stop when he is around halfway.

his eyes are now completely closed, squeezing shut as his mouth is now wide open, chest rising and falling at a fast pace, clearly far too lost in pleasure from my minimal acts to think about anything else.

“tell me what you want baby.” my voice is more forgiving this time, lacking the harsh tone it had when i scolded him all those times. now he knows better than to initiate anything, his eyes slowly opening when he registers what i say.

“keep going.” he pleads, his hands trailing to my hips, squeezing the flesh roughly. he clears his throat, though his ability to sound even a little bit composed is long gone, and he knows it too, soon realising when he opens his mouth to speak again, his voice low and whiny. “take all of me, please baby…”

i lean my face closer to his own, lips ghosting over the corner of his mouth. “open your eyes…watch me.” i smile when his eyes flutter open, dark and tired, their gaze flickering to watch where we are connected, struggling to stay open when his dick begins to slowly disappear inside of me, inch my inch.

“oh god-fuck…feels so good…” i haven’t even moved yet, staying sat completely on top of him, not circling my hips and instead adjusting to his size, my walls stretched out as i wait for the pain to turn to pleasure. it doesn’t matter that i haven’t done anything yet, not to tom, anyway. the evident euphoria on his face tells me enough, the continuous teasing i had put him through meaning that literally anything is enough to leave him a moaning mess.

and when i begin to circle my hips, grinding them over his pelvis, the noises that sound from his parted lips become louder and more inaudible, once clear attempts to say my name now barely understandable, lost in the whines that take over any speech. his body shines with a thick layer of sweat, highlighting each defined muscle from beneath me as they contract with each harsh squeeze of my hips. i lift them up, almost all the way off of tom’s dick, before slamming back onto it, soft curses spilling from his lips when i repeat my motions, soon finding a fast rhythm. somehow his hands don’t leave my waist, taking advantage of how i allow them to rest there, afraid that i will tear them away if he decides to move them anywhere else. but i see the way his eyes are fixated on my breasts, fighting the urge to close them purely so he can watch the way they bounce up and down with each movement of my hips. there are times when he jerks his hand upward, seeming to hesitate and return it to its position on my waist, though it doesn’t take long for the urge to become too strong.

“let me touch them liebe…please- just wanna touch them.” a string of pleas follow his request, his voice returning to a low whisper as he awaits my response, his head falling backward when i angle my hips a certain way, his tip brushing directly against my g-spot. i moan loudly at the feeling, eyes rolling to the back of my head as i repeat my movement, his tip drilling against it repeatedly. i am far too lost in pleasure to refuse his ask, nodding my head and mumbling a quick and almost inaudible “go ahead baby”.

and he wastes no time, his hands rushing to cup my breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples as he lets out a satisfied groan. he squeezes the flesh harshly, mesmerised by the feeling as the movements of his hands become more feverish, his need seeming to increase as he moves his head forward, allowing his lips to make contact with them. he places rough and open-mouthed kisses onto the flesh, kneading what isn’t in his mouth, sucking on my breast for a few seconds before running his tongue over the skin, his lips leaving a trail of purple marks scattered across my chest.

“i’m so close…please don’t stop baby- fuck, don’t stop- please!” his voice vibrates against my breast as he continues to kiss the skin, often cut off momentarily by a loud groan whenever i clench around him. and i can tell that he means it, his dick twitching inside of me every few seconds, the frequency of his moans increasing with each movement of my hips.

“you’re not cumming yet.” i state through breathy moans, circling my hips and digging my hails into his shoulders. he whines in response, pulling his head away from my breast to look upward at me. “hold it, you have to wait for me, mhm?”

“can’t baby- i can’t…fuck- it hurts so bad…” if i weren’t to desperate to chase my own release, i would probably pity him and let him cum out of sympathy, though now all i can focus on is finding my own climax, my bounces becoming more sloppy and feverish, craving nothing more than to release the knot in my stomach that begins to build.

“yes you can.” i breathe out, taking my hands and pressing them to the back of his head, bringing his lips closer to my breasts and moaning when his tongue swipes across my nipple. “you can cum when i say so.”

the knot in my stomach becomes more noticeable, my free hand moving downward to rub soft circles on my clit, my head falling backward at the overwhelming pleasure, knowing that it won’t be long until i get to my release. i don’t tell tom that, though, watching intently as he can no longer plant firm kisses to my breasts, instead he falls backward to rest his upper half against the headboard, soft and frequent curses pouring from his lips as he holds back his release, the task becoming harder and harder for him as each second passes.

my own head falls backward, eyes rolling back as i finally let go, feeling my release wash over me. i clutch onto tom’s back for support, rocking my hips back and forth slowly as i ride out my high, still aware that tom hasn’t come yet. and i can tell that he can’t hold on much longer.

“please baby…please let me cum- it hurts so bad schatz, shit!” tears begin to roll down his cheeks, soft whines spilling from his lips far more often than before. the slow roll of my hips on his dick doesn’t help - the angle allowing him to hit the deepest spots inside of me, my walls unconsciously clenching around him when the pleasure gets too much. “need it so bad baby, just wanna cum, please…”

my lips collide with his softly as he still tries to kiss back, the taste of tears on his mouth as i move against him slowly. “c’mon, cum baby…” he sighs loudly once he registers that he has my permission, no longer able to kiss back as his head falls backwards, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing, loud and elongated groans elicited from his lips as i feel his hot cum shoot into me, coating my walls as i ride out his high.

“shitshitshit…oh my fucking god!” he begins to lazily thrust upward into me, anything to increase the pleasure he already feels, his movements somehow matching mine as he moans into my mouth, his hands glued to my hips. his nails dig into the skin, leaving harsh marks there. eventually, both our movements slow down, tom’s body trembling as it lays against the headboard, his breathing fast and heavy. i collapse on top of him, his dick still inside of me as i rest my head on his chest. he rubs my back up and down, fingers tracing random patterns there.

“fuck me.” he mumbles into the now silent room, my head whipping upward to look at him, his fucked out expression enough to leave me mesmerised, taking in every feature on his face - the way his eyes struggle to stay open, slight wrinkles on his forehead from his furrowed brows, his lips remaining slightly parted, he somehow looks perfect. “you need to be on top more baby, that’s the best sex we’ve had.”

his hand tiredly reaches to cup my cheek, drawing my face nearer to his as he connects our lips. the kiss is lazy and sloppy, still filled with passion as i press my lips firmly onto his own. he pecks them a few more times before pulling away, standing up and pulling me toward the bathroom to clean up.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[thegoldencontracts]

Pocky Game

Malleus struggles to process his own feelings for you when you challenge him to a round of the Pocky game.

Notes: Flustered Malleus with like. No clue how he's feeling because he's never done this whole romance thing before sends me ahhhh

Malleus felt quite an odd way towards you. He didn't know how to describe it, really. Your presence made him feel- odd. Overwhelmed, like his mouth was constantly running dry. You were unlike most humans. You appreciated his company. You hadn't grown up with fae relatives, either. Even odder. You were an entirely ordinary human, lacking even magic to distinguish yourself from others.

And yet, you were different. You made Malleus feel so odd. What was this feeling? A sickness, perhaps? He wasn't entirely sure. If this was an illness, though, it was an awfully pleasant one.

"Hey, Tsunotaro!" You said, drawing out the first syllable of that peculiar nickname is a teasing manner. "You're here earlier than usual."

Ah. He'd come across Ramshackle again. He'd kept coming earlier and earlier, it seemed.

"Hello, child of man," he said, noticing a small box in your hands. It was a slightly orange red, with a design of what vaguely resembled sticks in the middle. "May I inquire as to what that object in your hands is?"

You smiled.

"Pocky!" You said, holding up the box for him to see. The design in the center was of these thin, crispy biscuit sticks, coated in chocolate. It seemed rather appealing, Malleus had to admit.

"A snack for yourself? I understand. Nourishment is rather important, after all," he said.

You shook your head, gently opening up the box an pulling out a stick.

"Not quite." You held up the stick in front of him. "I wanted to play the Pocky game with you!"

The- Pocky game? What is exactly was that? Sensing his confusion, you explained, opening the door to let Malleus in.

"We put a piece of Pocky between the two of us, and bite from each end! Whoever pulls away from the Pocky first loses. Easy enough, right?" You said, gesturing for Malleus to sit across from you on the battered Ramshackle couch. "Soooo, wanna try?"

It seemed fascinating. That, and-

He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if neither of you pulled away. Would something happen last minute? Or would you both consume the last of the little candy, lips crashing into one another's?

"Indeed," he said, positioning the Pocky stick between the two of you. He started out with a bite. And then you bit it. He bit it again. Simple, wasn't it?

But somehow, before he knew it, you two had both eaten most of the Pocky, with only one bite left between the two of you.

You didn't seem nervous at all, though. You just looked at him with curiosity in your eyes, waiting to see if he'd close the gap between your lips. Malleus, too lost within his own confusion, did no such thing.

So you did.

It was pleasant yet overwhelming, more than anything-

Flustering. So that was the word Malleus had been forgetting this entire time. You flustered him. Your presence, in fact, left him uncomposed. Was that not the behavior of someone around their crush?

Malleus barely had any time to process the revelation when you pulled away with a smirk, leaving him to deal with his whirlwind of emotions.

"So," you said with a smirk. "Looks like I win."

[project-sonadow]

happy hour drabble #4

"This is ridiculous," Shadow huffs, crossing his arms as he leans against back of the—their—couch. Sonic grins back at him all too easily, something that only irritates Shadow further; not only because of Sonic's smug attitude or clear enjoyment in Shadow's annoyance, but the fact that his disguise can't do anything about that stupidly lopsided grin of his. It only makes Shadow's grimace deepen as Sonic throws himself on the couch beside him, a little closer than usual.

"C'mon, Shadow, it's perfect!" Shadow just continues to stare disbelievingly, pointedly ignoring the arm Sonic has around the back of the sofa, body faced towards Shadow. "Nobody'd question a thing if we just say we're together!"

"Nobody would question anything if you'd stop bothering me during your breaks," Shadow hisses, still frowning as he glances away. He hates to admit it, but it is a decent excuse—one that makes it easy to want to keep discussions frequent yet private. But he doesn't want to admit that for multiple reasons, so all he can do is scowl back at Sonic's stupid, knowing face.

Their staring contest lasts for maybe a minute in silence, and Shadow's grip on his own arm tightens when he finally closes his eyes and lets out a long, long sigh.

"Fine. We'll use a ... 'relationship' as our excuse for meeting so often." It saves him from the constant questions he gets whenever he picks up and drops off Sonic from Speedy's, anyways. Sonic looks rather pleased with himself after getting Shadow to give in so easily, which means Shadow has to grit his teeth to hold back from Chaos blasting him point blank.

"Great! Soooo, that just means we gotta work on ... uh, y'know," Sonic shrugs. "Selling it."

"... What."

"Like," Sonic hums, giving Shadow a once over that absolutely does not make him feel a tiny bit overly conscious. Sonic makes some vague hand gesture at Shadow's face, then the space between them, then waves his hand around some more like it means something. "Y'know. Acting like you actually wanna see me—"

"I never want to see you."

Sonic rolls his eyes, scoffing himself now. "See, that's what I mean! We gotta fix that if we want this to work."

Does Shadow want this to work? No. And he would say as much if it weren't for that obnoxious look on Sonic's face, one that just seems to scream that he totally doesn't think Shadow can do it—that Shadow wouldn't be up to the challenge. So Shadow glares for a moment longer, feeling his ears flatten against the top of his skull with how badly he doesn't want to do this, before he turns away again with a tch.

"Fine," he grouses, again, half-growling the word before forcing himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath. When he lets it go, his eyes open to see Sonic still—staring at him, with those impossibly green eyes, and it takes everything in Shadow to not be on edge once more immediately.

"That's the spirit!" Sonic says cheerfully but calmly, still grinning but—and maybe these time loops are just finally getting to Shadow's head, a little, but he thinks this smile is just a bit softer than it was before. Sonic visibly moves a little closer, arm now almost around Shadow's shoulder more than the couch, and Shadow feels a little too warm and aware of the way Sonic's facing him. "Just don't look so constipated whenever I get close to ya', alright?"

Shadow swallows down some biting remark that he doesn't even know, eyes flickering from Sonic's arm around his yet again tensed shoulders to Sonic's face to the lack of space between the two of them. After another eternal second of Sonic just—just smiling at him, Shadow finally elbows him in the gut, feeling a little better at the quiet oof that escapes him.

[irisintheafterglow]

hi iris i hope u have been well!!

wanted to request a little fluff/mutual pining moment between Satoru and reader who's also an instructor but they only ever get to see eachother during exchange events/higher up meetings/a mission every now and then (it's not for a lack of wanting to pursue eachother but neither of them have put in the effort bc they're both have commitment issues and deem themselves unworthy of trying) i think it would be soooo cute and i'm just dying to see Satoru and reader's students tease them about their VERY obvious chemistry... and hopefully something finally coming out of it in the end :-)

hehe thank u so much and as always you're the best!!

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this!

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: coworkers to lovers, idiots in love, reader and gojo have no idea what they're doing, swearing, mentions of drinking, fluffy fluffy fluff

note: hi anon! thank you so much for the ask, hope you like it!! i definitely got a little carried away writing it just because it's such a cute premise lol

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated !!

A piece of paper slides inconspicuously into your peripheral vision and it takes all of your willpower not to smirk. With equal nonchalance, you carefully peek under the ripped corner of the meeting agenda and can’t help smiling at the message scrawled on it. 

We’re drinking after this (not optional). 

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and see him leaning back in his office chair, arms crossed and looking like he’d rather be dipping his limbs in molten lava. Even with his blindfold, you can see the boredom in his expression and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing. His inability to appear professional was going to be the death of you both. 

“Gojo, are you listening?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he says with blatant dishonesty that makes you bite your bottom lip and carefully observe the dusty ceiling tiles. “I was just in…deep thought.” He tastes the last two words like philosophies to be pondered and it suddenly becomes much harder to continue to have a blank expression. Their first mistake was picking a verbal fight with him. 

“Deep thought about what?” Their second mistake was letting him keep talking.  

“Ah, you know, the usual things.” You can feel his attention flick to you for a moment and it gives him a wave of confidence to continue to be a little pest at a meeting neither of you wanted to be attending. It was his favorite pastime, after all, to get you to smile at his shenanigans despite the bullshit you were hearing. “The meaning of life, the wonders of love,” he begins before his volume drops so that only you could hear it, “Why this couldn’t have been a fucking email–”

“What was that?” You suppress a snort into your fist and take a sip of water, hoping the other meeting attendees couldn’t see that you were tearing up from trying not to laugh. The angry-faced higher up scowls at him, catching the biting tone but not his words. Satoru merely smiles innocently, like every utterance was of the purest and most amicable intentions. 

“Nothing,” he sings and you cough into your sleeve to hide a laugh. The other higher ups with their ugly suits and balding heads look at you curiously, but all you can see is Satoru’s shit-eating grin from beside you. “I’m just worried for you, is all.” The higher-up at the front of the room scoffs, still believing the show. 

“Worried? For me?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his brows drawn in fake concern. “I just know you don’t have a lot of time left on this plane and, well, wonder why you’re choosing to spend it here,” he states with a vague gesture around the musty room. An embarrassing noise of amusement escapes from your throat and you try in vain to regain your composure, only to fall into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. Satisfied with his achievement, he abruptly stands from his chair and pulls yours away from the desk. “My work here is finished. We’re leaving.” His finger gently taps your shoulder twice and you obey, standing and heading for the door while he pushes in your chair behind you. The official at the front of the room has turned beet-red.

“The arrogance of you two–”

“We’re done here. If you say anything important, Ijichi will tell me. I doubt the possibility, though,” Satoru states with finality, opening the door for you and shooting the room of stunned officials one last smirk. Too lazy to walk through the winding halls or take the snail-paced elevator, a flick of your wrist opens a portal into an alley on the side of the building. Your colleague lets out a whistle of approval as your shoes cross from dirty carpet to asphalt, finally taking in fresh air after hours of sitting in the stale conference room. The moon shines in all of its winter glory and you shiver against the welcome chill, comforted by the chatter of the city’s nightlife. “Still up for that drink?”

“As long as you’re buying it,” you reply. “I’m gonna call the kids first and let them know I’m out.”

“Tell them I say hi,” he says without missing a beat, leaning against a nearby wall to wait for you to finish. Utahime picks up after two rings. 

“Hello? Ah, you’re finally done. That’s great!” Your coworker’s voice temporarily becomes muffled while she answers questions of who she’s talking to, followed by a chorus of your name imploring you to come back. “Everyone, say hi!” Your beloved students greet you enthusiastically and you smile at their enthusiasm. “Will you be on your way soon?”

“In a little,” you say, slightly sheepish as your eyes flick over to the man behind you. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

“You’re going by yourself?” 

“Not exactly,” you answer slowly and the realization hits Utahime as she breaks out into a lecture on how Satoru isn’t good enough for you. “Easy, easy. It’s just a drink, nothing else.” Your whispered attempts to placate your friend’s indignance prove futile and you settle for letting her get all of her complaints out. 

“He’s a no-good playboy with a rock for a brain and a chatterbox of a mouth, you idiot,” she concludes after her lengthy rant. “I don’t want you getting hurt because he’s too scared to make any commitments.”

“I’m not making any commitments either, Utahime,” you remind her and you can imagine her rolling her eyes from the other side of the line. “It’s just a drink,” you reiterate, but you still hear her grunt of disapproval. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she responds skeptically. “Don’t do anything dumb.” 

“Love you too, Utahime,” you laugh, hanging up the phone and sticking it back in your pocket. “Alright, let’s go,” you call to Satoru, who eagerly pushes off the wall and drags you out of the alley. “We haven’t eaten, so we’re getting dinner too.” 

“Whatever you want,” he grins. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t harbor some sort of romantic affections toward Satoru, but you were also resigned to the fact that you’d never act on it. He was the most powerful human being on the planet; how could you be worthy of loving such a man? Still, in times like this, where it was just the two of you walking hand-in-hand to who knows where, your mind tended to drift into thoughts of what could be if you weren’t in this line of work. It would be nice to love him, that’s all. Yeah, it’d be really nice to love him. 

You couldn’t explain any of this to your students the next morning, though, when they interrogated you on who you were with the entire night. When you let his name slip, the shock in the room was palpable. 

“See, I knew you guys had a thing for each other!” Miwa points her sword at you accusingly, far more fired up than you’d ever seen her before. “I thought I was the only one who noticed how he looked at you!”

“There is nothing of the sort, so I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you counter, pushing the sheathed blade to the side. Your other students fight back with full force. 

“It’s so obvious that he likes you,” Mai says, like it’s an insult. “Teasing you all the time? Making excuses to crash your meetings?”

“Bringing you lunch if he’s within a fifty mile radius of our campus,” Nishimiya adds and her classmates nod in agreement. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught him trying to surprise you by air?”

“That could be just part of a working relationship,” you argue, but they’re relentless. “How would you know anything about his intentions? Maybe he’s just being nice!”

“I believe his intentions with you are, indeed, romantic,” Kamo reiterates and you groan, hiding your burning face in your hands. “I can’t say I don’t see the vision. You’re a powerful duo.”

“Your marriage would make the brass shit themselves,” Mai muses with a cynical glint in her eye. “Can you imagine having a baby that can send Hollow Purple through a portal?”  

“Oh, their children would be so beautiful,” Miwa squeals and it’s like waterfalls of sweat come rushing from your forehead.

“Alright, alright. Let’s not talk about marriage or babies, please,” you cut in, quick to nip that conversation in the bud. You can’t tell if it’s the weather making your palms clammy or the unending tirade of comments about your dating life. “We can change the topic of conversation now,” you say in an attempt to get the heat off of you for a little bit. “Todo, how’s that idol you like so much doing?” It’s a good idea, initially, but the thought of you and Satoru together seemed to be brainwashed over your students.

“She’s wonderful, just as the two of you in love is a wonderful sight.” Todo can’t seem to help himself as he announces his enthusiasm for your romantic endeavors, teleporting across the room and swapping positions with his classmates from claps of pure excitement. Mechamaru provides a single thumbs-up when you look to him for support, and you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers.

“I think it’s cute how you act like you hate him and then can’t seem to stay away during events like this. Love is so complex,” Miwa sighs, resting her chin on her hand and staring off dreamily. You scoff, hoping they can’t tell how fast your heart rate has picked up. “I wish I were in love.”

“It’s not love. If anything, it’s just admiration. Yeah, it’s just admiration,” you conclude and you’re met with skeptical stares. 

“Yeah, admiration of his hot bod,” Miwa mutters and you open a portal without thinking, allowing some fat drops of rain from who knows where to fall on her head. It was a common form of discipline, summoning portals to unruly weather conditions, and your students sit up a little straighter in understanding. “Fine, okay, okay. I’m done.”

“You sure? If you’re not done, I’m gonna send you to the Amazon again.”

“Yes, fine. I’m done, I promise.”

“Done with what?” You stiffen, mentally kicking yourself for not registering his presence sooner. Had he not taken up your entire attention, you would have sent Miwa to South America for the gasp of excitement she let out when Satoru appeared. It seemed that none of you knew he was listening until he leaned against the doorframe, all six feet of height taking up the entire space. He was wearing his signature shit-eating grin that made you want to choke him with his own blindfold. “You gossiping in here?”

“Nope, just going over strategy,” you lie straight to his face and he hums, not believing you for a second. “Shouldn’t you be doing that, too? With your own students?” You stand and attempt to push him out of the room, only to find him completely immovable. His hand covers yours, lacing your fingers together in a way that makes you a little dizzy. 

“All in good time,” he says carefreely, as if the action with your hands was second-nature. “For now, can I steal you away for a moment? It won’t take long.” You can practically hear the waggling eyebrows from your students and nod, unable to form a biting response because of the crashing trains of thought in your mind. His hand remains holding yours as he all but pulls you outside, finally dropping it when the excited chatter of your students has subsided. “You okay? You seem a little frazzled,” he asks once you’re far enough from any eavesdropping attempts.

“Yeah, my kids are just being a little…funny, today,” you exhale, trying to hide your unease with a nervous giggle. “You know them; they love to make up their own little stories.” He raises his eyebrows in amusement, matching your pace as you walk down a random outdoor corridor of the Tokyo campus. 

“Mine have actually been doing the same thing,” he confesses after a brief moment of awkward silence. “Making speculations, drawing connections. Seems to be a good exercise in pattern-recognition.” You know he means it as a joke, but all you can think about is Miwa’s comment on admiring Satoru’s ‘hot bod.’ Had his students picked up on your behavior, too?

“What are some of these connections they’re drawing?”

“Connections about my behavior around…hmm,” his voice trails off and the corner of his mouth turns down into a frown, like he was unhappy with his students’ observations. “They’ve noticed things about the way I, well,” he stammers and for the first time, you witness Gojo Satoru get tongue-tied. “Somethings that they’ve seen and heard and–”

“Satoru.” You halt both of your strides and cross your arms defensively over your chest, slightly uncomfortable from Satoru’s inability to express himself when he would otherwise be talking your ear off. “What is this about?”

“My students know I like you,” he states bluntly and your heartbeat momentarily stops pounding in your ears. His students know that he what? “And they also theorize,” he stops to clear his throat, adjusting his collar and avoiding your eyes, “that you may reciprocate the same feelings.” Any words that you can form get caught in your throat, an odd mixture of happiness, shock, and pure dread stirring around in your brain. All you could do is blink at him, dumbly, while he shifts between the balls of his feet. “Please, say something.”

“You like me,” you repeat, tasting the words like a fancy wine you’ve never tried before breaking out into the widest smile you’ve ever felt. “Holy shit, you like me?”

“You’re smiling,” he states, still trying to process what was happening. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Holy shit, you like me!” Your voice raises on its own and you take a step back in surprise, covering your face with your hands to try and contain your emotions. “What the fuck, Satoru?”

“Yeah, that’s,” he mumbles as he watches you celebrate, “that’s how I’m feeling too.” 

“Wait, so what do we do now?” 

“I have no idea. I didn’t expect to get this far,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck and combing his fingers through his hair. “I was waiting for you to slap me and tell me to go to hell.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I didn’t think you liked me back,” he sputters and the joy in both you and Satoru’s chests finally breaks loose in a fit of unending laughter. “Holy shit, I was so worried for nothing.”

“They’re gonna be so excited when we get back, they won’t be able to focus on the Exchange Event.”

“I don’t think I can focus on the Exchange Event.”

“Then we can postpone it!” You both flinch as a voice that was definitely not one of yours calls from behind a nearby wall, followed by a terrified oh, shit! as Satoru goes barreling around the corner and drags out the culprits by the collars of their shirts. Yuuji, the pink-haired student from Tokyo, and Miwa both try to explain themselves as they dangle weightlessly from Satoru’s hands. “Gojo, sir, we swear we weren’t trying to–”

“Hold on,” you pause Yuuji’s explanation, sensing some extra energy signatures that weren’t succeeding at hiding themselves. “Come out now, or I’m opening the portal to the Arctic,” you command in the open air and watch the leaves rustle as the rest of the Tokyo and Kyoto students fall from a nearby tree. “It’s rude to eavesdrop,” you chuckle as Nishimiya picks a few branches from Mai’s hair. “Go clean yourselves up and then we can begin the games.”

“You free this weekend after the games to go someplace?” Satoru whispers in your ear once all of the students are gone. “I need a break from the prying eyes of teenagers.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[dcawritings]

Sun keeps distracting you while you’re trying to get through your training.

Or well, his hands do.

Just paint it.

Paint the picture.

The numbers.

Follow. the. damn. numbers!

No amount of mental screaming could keep you focused—your eyes were locked onto the animatronic practically looming over you from the other side of the craft desk.

“Well?” he says, clapping his hands together. “Are ya done yet? Are ya?”

Your cheeks fill with heat, but you shake your head rapidly in response. Sun looks mildly disappointed, but otherwise continues staring at you with that blank, unchanging smile of his. Amazing how much expression an animatronic could have without proper face rigging—but it’s not his face that’s distracting you from your task.

It’s his hands.

They’re huge.

It’s not that as though they’re disproportionate to the rest of him either. Sun’s overall design is somewhat cartoonish, but his lanky frame and wide faceplate were part of the aesthetic!

And so were his large, dexterous hands.

There were probably plenty of good reasons that he'd been designed like that. Plenty of good, wholesome reasons that were many times removed from what you are thinking about right now.

Gods, you hope so.

“You’re lookin’ awfully distracted there, new friend,” Sun’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts with surprising ease. When your focus shifts back, you see the bot cross his arms and loom even closer. How is it possible for him to look jealous? “What’s more important than arts 'n crafts time with Sundrop?”

Oh fuck. Jesus. There’s gotta be a believable answer somewhere. Think, think, look around and come up with something smart to throw him off—

“Your hands.”

Fuck.

The words had slipped out faster than you could stop them, fueled by instinct and arousal than sense. But maybe they were too quick, too incomprehensible against the background noise for Sun to have truly understood what you said. Maybe if you just pretend nothing was wrong and continued trying to color in the empty canvas, then he'd—

“That’s such a strange answer, new friend! My hands? I'm not even putting on any shadow puppet shows! Now, what about them is soooo distracting?”

He gestures with them as if to make a point, palms open and fingers spread apart as if he was ready to give you a solid high-five. As much as you want to say it doesn’t affect you, it really does. The sight makes your mind spin and your stomach leap into your throat; when he wiggles his fingers it only makes you more aware of how long they are, how detailed each joint was, his range of motion the same if not more flexible than a human.

Suddenly, all you can think of is what it might feel like to have his hand between your legs. How good it would be to have him coo and whisper soft little things while he gently rubs those fingertips over your clit—or maybe even a few little backhanded compliments while he presses a digit or two inside. Could… could your body take more than one? Two? Would Sun be rough with you? Tease you?

Bully you?

“Hellooooo?” Sun says, waving one of those stupid sexy big hands in front of your blazing hot face. “Time is limited, new friend, hurry it up! Do I need to repeat those instructions about painting by numbers again?"

Maybe it's your own emotions coloring it, but Sun sounds annoyed. He drums his fingers of both hands over the edge of the desk and leans closer until he's looming over you again.

He's... really tall, you realize. You'd worked with him before, yes, but your overall experience with the daycare attendant was minimal; that's more than likely why you were assigned this kind of quarterly training. The gentle taptaptap of his digits on the wood keep you vaguely distracted as you answer,

"N-No need for any of that!" you waved the paint brush as if to give greater weight to your words. Its not as if you'd forgotten how to paint, so he didn't need to repeat anything.

You'd probably start blushing if he did—the sharper his comments became, the less you found yourself able to mix colors together despite the fact that there were only three to even mix. How do you make purple again…?

“Oh really~?” Sun’s form looms forward so much that his shadow falls over you. Purple. Purple is—red and blue, yes. Just ignore him. “Because you’ve been lookin’ at my hands an awful lot. And you haven’t even started with your picture yet!”

“I’m just. I’m thinking okay?”

He tilts his faceplate, disdain and disbelief heavy in his words. He finally reaches out and catches your chin between his curled forefinger and thumb. You can feel the warm silicone padding brush over your lips as his voice sheds away the fake layer of hyperactive enthusiasm.

“And what are ya thinkin’ about, new little friend?”

It’s impossible to even form words in that moment. Your heartbeat quickens, and blood starts to rush through your ears. He knows. He has to know.

“I uh… I just…”

“Hm? Just what?”

Before you can stammer more nonsense, Sun’s thumb brushes across your lips. His pupils hone in on your mouth and, slowly, the tip of his thumb presses almost expectantly at the seam, pressing down on your lower lip and against your upper teeth.

You, of course, say absolutely nothing. The entirety of your face feels as if on fire, burning hot against the cool silicone padding over Sun's fingers.

"Open."

You blink several times in incredulous disbelief. No, surely you missheard, misunderstood what he said and twisted it into something you wanted to hear instead—

“Starlight~” Sun says, tone soft and lyrical before it suddenly drops all pretense of fake cheer. “Open your mouth.”

You barely drop your jaw before Sun pushes his thumb inside your mouth, the pad pressing down over your tongue in a way that almost makes you gag. Jesus christ, the digit is long and thick enough that it makes your eyes water and your entire body feel as if aflame.

Meanwhile, the sound of rushing blood echoes in your ears. You can breathe, but barely—and Sun seems to take some sort of satisfaction in watching your expression transform through at least three separate emotions at once.

“Good boy.”

You shiver, eyes locked with his. Whatever is going on is happening so fast, too quick for your brain to realize how sexual it must look to anyone who might peek at the cameras. But still, embarrassment and shame aside, you stay still and let your jaw go slack—Sun watches you carefully for a few more seconds before he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and offers a wide grin.

“That’s what I had thought~!” He exclaims, voice suddenly bright and cheerful. “You’re not hard to read at all, did’ya know that? Your eyes can’t stop lookin’ at my hands—so maybe if you get through this training and show me some really good art,” his eyes narrow into crescents, “then maybe I’ll play with you some more afterwards.”

Oh.

Oh.

And with that, the weight of the air changes. It shifts back to casual so quickly there’s emotional whiplash as Sun claps his hands together again.

“C’mon now! Times a wastin’, so let’s see some hustle and’a bustle!”

[awlumii]

worst case scenario.

# — pairing: spidey!kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, spider-man!kazuha

# — summary: after a little incident, spider-man begins to question his effectiveness as a hero.

# — warnings: mentions of blood/injury (cut from a ring from a slap), vague hints of minor character death

# — tags: hurt/comfort, yes there's kisses do not act surprised, kazuha's just really worried about you

# — notes: hey, remember that ask that was like "what happens if reader gets hurt?" and i was like "is a fic an okay response?" well, it's 4 am and i have this to show for it. i haven't stayed up until 4 am in almost six months. soooo, reblogs and reactions are REALLY appreciated, and i hope you enjoy! (and don't get tired of my spidey!kazuha shenanigans, ahaha..)

wanna join the tag list?

✦ — 🕷+ 🍁 — ✦

being robbed in an alleyway is the last thing you ever thought you'd be doing on a friday night. and yet here you were, arguing with two thieves who seem unsatisfied with the belongings that they found on your person. in your defense, you were just trying to get home after being in the library for almost eight hours straight; you didn't carry valuables because you had no use for them.

that very fact seems to piss off the taller of the two thieves. "i know you're hiding something!" he hollers at you. "you have to be hiding something from us!"

"how many times do i have to tell you," you groan, "i don't have any fucking money on me!" you gesture to your books and other materials that have been unceremoniously scattered on the concrete. "that's all i have. please, just take it and leave me alone."

common sense would tell you to mind your tone around these two. they're both bigger and visibly stronger than you; accosting them in such a manner was a recipe for disaster. plus, they're already pissed off and you don't know if they're armed or not. but you already spotted your self-defense stuff amongst the clutter at their feet and you're really deep in this alleyway — and even if you did scream and someone heard you, the thieves would probably hurt you if you drew too much attention to your situation.

all of that to say, you're trapped.

as you try to think of possible escape routes (all of which seem to end in hypothetical failure), the bulkier thief marches over to you and starts to pat you down -- probably in search of your wallet. you shriek and push him away as hard as you can. "don't touch me, what the hell?!"

the man glares at you with a wild, almost animalistic look in his eyes. "i felt a wallet," he growls at you, "fuckin' knew you were hiding something. hand it over!" he reaches out and takes your arm in a bruising grip.

"no!" you twist your body to try and free yourself. that only serves to upset the thief even more. he backhands you; hard. your head whips to the side with the force of it and your eyes water immediately.

the taller thief takes advantage of your disorientation and finishes patting you down. he finds your wallet and your phone, both of which he pockets. "i got it," he says, "let's go!" the man holding your arm releases you and takes off with his partner, speeding down the alleyway with your belongings.

you're still having trouble processing what just happened. the thief hit you so hard that your vision went white for a second, and now that you're re-focusing, you think that he must've been wearing a ring or two, because your cheek feels strangely wet. you bring your fingers up to your face and hiss as soon as you touch it. sure enough, your fingertips come back stained with crimson. he got you good.

with your phone gone, you can't even call the police to tell them what happened. you're more fixated on the deep cut on your face, anyhow. you stagger over to your belongings and gingerly place them back in the bag. at least you don't have to walk far.

the craziest part about all this wasn't even that you lost all of your stuff; it's that you were literally right outside your building. "silver lining, i guess." you mutter as you trudge home.

once inside, you toss your bag onto the floor and head to your closet to get the supplies to start cleaning your wound. just as you start to clean it, you hear a familiar thud and knocking coming from your balcony window. you step out of your bathroom and see none other than spider-man himself waiting for you.

the very second you open it, he's all over you, taking your face in one hand and inspecting it closely. "what happened?" he asks almost frantically. "who hurt you?"

you huff quietly, unsure of how to answer him. you're still a little disoriented. the adrenaline is taking its sweet time leaving your system. his gloved thumb brushes the skin just below your cut and you jolt, the sudden rush of pain forcing you to shove him away. "don't touch me." you grumble. you wince when you realize how harsh you sound. it's not like spider-man was the one who did this to you. "sorry," you apologize quietly, "don't touch me, please. i-it still hurts." you ignore his soft call of your name and head back into the bathroom to patch yourself up. "why're you even here?" you call out from where you are. "you don’t look injured."

to your surprise, he follows you. "there was a mugging reported in the area." he raises his left hand and out of the corner of your eye, you spot your phone and wallet. "before i returned these to their owner, i just wanted to see if you were--"

"holy shit, that's mine!" you snatch your stuff out of his hands and all but slam them down on your sink. "you caught those two?"

you wonder what face spider-man is making beneath his mask. "yes, but i... you were their latest victim?" he sounds like he's in complete disbelief.

"yes," you sigh. you feel infinitely lighter than you did a second ago. you perk up a bit and work a little harder on cleaning your injury. it's deeper than you thought it'd be — it might leave a mark. "the bigger one had rings on, right?" when spider-man nods, you grumble. "that asshole slapped me 'cause i wouldn't give up my wallet."

spider-man's hand comes up to grab your wrist, stopping you. you look at him, confused. his grip is tight. "let me." he says. he gently pushes you so you're sitting on top of your toilet lid. "please. it's the least i can do."

you gawk at him. "you want to patch me up this time?" spider-man doesn't answer; he finishes cleaning the blood from your face and you let him, a smile making its way across your face. "this is an interesting turn of events."

"this shouldn't be happening." spider-man says seriously. "you were never supposed to be--" he cuts himself off with a harsh sigh.

is he..?

"are you upset that i'm hurt?" you ask. "it was bound to happen at some point, y'know?"

that's apparently the wrong thing to say. spider-man clicks his tongue; clearly, he's upset. "you were supposed to be safe. i was supposed to keep you safe, and yet..." he gently dabs some antiseptic over your wound. you hiss and draw away from him, but he cradles your jaw in his other hand, keeping you still. "i'm sorry," he whispers, "i'm so sorry. i'll try harder to keep you safe next time. stop moving, please."

you're quiet after that. kazuha doesn't like it very much.

but what else is he supposed to say? what else can he say without giving himself away? he doesn't think his body will allow him to speak, anyway; his heart plummeted when he saw you bleeding, it's a miracle he managed to say this much in the first place.

kazuha always looks out for you — always. it doesn't matter who he fights or who he puts in jail; after every single mission, he's swinging by your apartment to see if you're okay. every day, when he sees you walking around campus unharmed and well, he feels like he's fulfilled his unspoken promise of keeping you safe. seeing you like this now makes him want to tear his mask off and throw it away.

what kind of hero is he if he can't keep his most precious person safe?

kazuha finishes patching you up in silence and smooths the bandage over your cheek. "there," he says softly. “all done.” you don’t move right away. instead you sit and stare at him with furrowed brows. kazuha stares back at you with a mirrored expression. “is everything okay?” he asks, worried that he’d messed up somewhere. “does it still hurt? It’s going to ache for a few days, but--”

“no, that’s not--” you sigh and bring a hand up to the bandage, brushing your fingers over it gingerly. “that’s not it. i mean, it hurts, yeah, but… you don’t seem okay. what’s wrong?”

what’s wrong, he wants to scream, is that he failed you. he can feel it now; this isn’t going to be the last time that you’re going to get hurt because of him. the only reason those two hair-brained idiots thought they could get away with this was likely because they heard news of some other criminals just barely managing to squeeze past him and law enforcement. they probably wanted to go home to their criminal friends and boast about how they of all people managed to get around the spider-man.

sure, they may not have known about your connection to him, but the fact remains that as long as you are a citizen in this city, the possibility of you becoming a victim (or god forbid, a casualty) of violent crime is never zero. you were lucky you walked away with a mere scratch — others aren't as fortunate. he's seen it all by now. the thought of you being one of the poor souls that he has the misfortune of happening across too late…

you're standing in front of him now. your fingers brush his jaw over his mask. without thinking, he'd turned his gaze to the ground. at your touch, he meets your eyes and sees, feels, the concern pouring out of them. "spider-man," you ask again, "are you okay?"

kazuha, overcome by his own failure and emotion, rests a hand over yours. "i'm sorry." his voice comes out as nothing more than a breath. a whisper. it's shaky and he tries to swallow it back, but the fear rises quickly and strangles him. the what-ifs can't be put to rest any longer. what if you ended up severely injured? what if you couldn't find help? what if you weren't trained to heal?

what if you'd ended up like tomo? or his parents?

"i'm so sorry," kazuha says again. "i promise you i'll do better. i will."

you look so worried about him. he's not used to seeing that when he's not on the brink of death. "you're beating yourself up, aren't you?" you sigh when he doesn't respond. he tilts his head away from you, but you cup his jaw and keep him facing you. "i'm fine, as you can see. it's just a flesh wound. it's not your fault this happened."

"it is," he insists. "if i wasn't… if-- if i wasn't spider-man, then maybe—"

"don't." your tone leaves no room for argument. "don't say that. don't blame yourself like that. it's not like crime didn't exist before you came on the scene. the odds of something like this happening are the same as they were all those years ago. i agitated them, and this," you point at your bandage, "is my just punishment. plus, you can't be everywhere at once."

kazuha sighs harshly. "that's the problem, dove. who's going to protect you because i can't be everywhere at once? what if they were more aggressive with you? what if i never showed up to check on you? i just… i don't…" don't want to lose you goes unsaid.

i don't want to lose the last ray of light i have left.

you cup his face fully this time and look straight into kazuha's eyes. it's times like these where he feels you can see straight through the mask and see him for who he truly is. your gaze could move mountains, he thinks, could uproot the sturdiest trees. you strip him down to his barest parts when you look at him like this. something flashes in your eyes, something kazuha recognizes. he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. the two of you close your eyes and just breathe for a moment. it's grounding; like this, he can feel your presence fully. he can hear your heartbeat if he focuses enough — can count the milliseconds between each breath and match the rhythm, syncing the beat of his heart to your own.

a few beats pass. maybe two minutes at best. and then finally, you speak. "i'm right here." you say. it's your way of bringing him out of his own head, a method of calming him that you discovered by chance a few months ago. "i'm here and i'm safe."

"you're right here and you're safe," kazuha repeats your words. as if to confirm it, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses your body close to his own. "you're… right here," he sighs. "and you're safe."

"very good," you whisper. "good." you lean back to look him in the eyes and again, he sees that glimmer. your thumbs stroke the spot where his lips would be almost absent-mindedly. you seem to be thinking about something. it's probably the same thing kazuha is thinking, but neither of you act on it. it wouldn't be the first time either of you have acted on that thought, but neither of you do for a while, with you tracing the rough outline of his lips through his mask. kazuha's heart threatens to burst out of his chest and for a second, he worries if you can hear it.

after a pregnant pause, he throws caution to the wind. kazuha murmurs, "close your eyes." you do as he says without a moment's hesitation and he seizes the moment, pulls his mask up just enough to kiss you. there's no heat to the kiss. it's all leisure; slow and reassuring, a gentle press of lips to remind one another of the present. your lips are soft and warm and you're here, right now, with him, alive and well. he takes a chance and moves his lips and you move yours in tandem, elongating the kiss and extending the moment. pressed chest to chest in your bathroom, you kiss your spider-man as lovingly and as desperately as he kisses you. kazuha's fingers instinctively come up to hold your face but he touches the bandage and makes you flinch. you let out a soft, shocked hum into the kiss, and he lightens up, pecks your lips a few times in apology. "i'm sorry," he whispers over and over between kisses. "i'm sorry."

you kiss back sweetly, reassure him wordlessly that it's okay. after a few more pecks kazuha fixes his mask back in place with a sigh. he catches the moment your eyes flutter open and admires the haze that he finds. "are you still beating yourself up about this?" you ask. your voice is near inaudible, but he hears you.

"a little." he half-chuckles. "i still wish i'd been there to stop it from happening."

"it's okay if you weren't. because what am i?" when kazuha doesn't respond, you start to pinch his cheeks. "hey, i asked you a question. what am i?"

"uh," he replies, his words a little garbled from the pinching, "really cute?" the mood restores itself with a light jest. you chuckle and pinch his cheeks tighter. kazuha hisses a soft chorus of ows and gives in. "okay, okay! you're alive and safe, i got it."

"and don't you fucking forget it." you sound smug, your usual smile brightening your face. something warm washes over you. "thank you for stopping by and patching me up, spider-man. i really appreciate it."

kazuha winces, though you don't see it. he'd gotten so absorbed in the moment that he temporarily forgot that he was in costume. the ocean that reappears between you two with the utterance of his hero name feels so easy to cross, yet simultaneously impossible. "don't mention it. maybe you should return the favor sometime." he forces out the joke.

you laugh and finally release him. "i'll think it over. now get lost, webhead." you pull yourself out of his arms and step aside for him to exit the bathroom and subsequently, your apartment. "i'm sure the rest of the city's wondering where their friendly neighborhood spider-man is. i will admit though," you pause and look in the mirror to admire his handiwork. "you did a pretty good job. i didn't know you knew how to dress wounds this well. you sure i need to return that favor?"

spider-man folds his arms over his chest. "believe it or not, i used to do it myself before i met you."

"hm." you don't say much more on that. "well, okay. go back to helping little old ladies cross the street or whatever."

"is that what you think i do all day?" spider-man asks as the two of you walk to your balcony door.

"what, have you not done that before?"

"...that's besides the point."

"oh my god, wait, i was joking. do you actually do that? i thought that was like, only a thing in comics."

spider-man rolls his eyes, forgets that you can't see that, and shakes his head. he hops on your balcony railing, poised to leave. "good night, dove. i'll see you soon."

you giggle. the sound is music to his ears. "good night, spider-man. be safe."

"you too. for me."

and with a thwip-!, he's gone. probably to help another little old lady across the street.

✦ blinks dryly

✦ poor tomo isn't getting fed until early afternoon... i'm not gettin up early later.

[kierancaz]

Hello mellon nìn, i have seen you are interested in writing for Legolas, sooooooooooooo if you are up to it of course, write something??

So here is my idea (this can be a headcanon if you want something short, but write how you want):

Reader is an elf (female reader pls) and she gets sick (wich is super rare for an elf) and Legolas gets super worried, and just stays with her and stuff. Just something fluff, you know.

Don't worry for mischaractherizing (idk if i wrote it correctly, lol) him.

That's all thank you!! You can ignore this, if you don't want to do it.💜

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬

A/N: AHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING NEVER HAVE I GOTTEN OUT OF BED AND TO WORK SO FAST SJKDJJDJSJD but iyayah this was such a pain. I kept rewriting it to try and get it to my liking but I just couldn’t do it 😭 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT THO AND I HOPE ITS NOT TO CRINGE OR ANYTHING <3333

Warnings: possible spelling mistakes, not proof read (I wanted to get it out as soon as possible), and fluff (or as fluffy as I could make it), and I don’t know how elf housing works soooo if I got this wrong you’re gonna have to deal with it I’m sorry :’)

Synopsis: you fall ill and Legolas takes care of you.

༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

Legolas admired you greatly. He admired how hardworking and bold you where. How you never gave up and always completed the tasks set to you. How you had such a commanding presence that people just couldn’t help but be drawn to you. In fact, that’s what had drawn him to you in the first place.

Recently though he hadn’t been able to see you. Not only because he was busy but because you where busy as well. You where always running from one place to the next only stopping in the halls for a quick hello whenever he called out to you.

Coming back from patrol one day he was greeted at the gates by a elleth that he only vaguely recognized as one of the people in your charge. You where a captain of the guard, another thing he admired about you.

“My Prince,” the elleth bowed her head politely and Legolas returned the gesture. “(Y/n) is sick, she’s been taken to the infirmary and is asking for you.”

Legolas eyes widened in shock. Sick? You where sick? How long had it been since an elf was sick? Immediately it took off to the infirmary.

He was overcome with worry. What happened? How did you get sick? How sick where you? Elves didn’t often get sick and if they did they’re was usually an on hand cure and everything was solved in a couple days so why where you asking for him? Was it really that bad that you would call for him? For a moment he wondered if you where calling for him because you where on your deathbed or something before he realized how preposterous that was.

He reached the infirmary in no time and upon entering he was more then a little stumped by what he saw. There was you, sitting on the edge of the infirmary bed looking both unwell and very upset. And then there was another elf standing before you, clearly annoyed and pinching the bridge of his nose.

You spotted him at once and grinned, “Legolas!” You said and waved him over. “You have to tell Belanor that I am perfectly fine. He won’t listen to me!”

“You don’t look ever well to me.” Legolas said as he helped bring you back to balance after you stood up. You were holding onto his shoulder tightly and swaying a bit.

“That’s because she’s not well,” Belanor interrupted. “She’s got a fever. Nothing to horrible but it’ll take a few days before she’s back to normal health and… well it might get worse before it gets better.”

“I’ll be fine! There’s absolutely nothing wrong.” You said and pushed yourself off of Legolas, as you did so you where overcome by a dizzy spell and fell back onto the bed.

“Now, since you are clearly not fine, you could either stay here in the infirmary for a few days while I watch over you. Or you could go back to your own home and have someone else take care of you. I don’t trust you to take care of yourself but I’d rather not have to deal with you any longer. Make your choice quickly please.” Belanor said and crossed his arms.

You looked up from where you had your head in your hands and glared at Belanor. You opened your mouth to make a comment about what he could possibly be busy with that he needs you to make a quick decision about this but before you could Legolas spoke up.

“I can take care of her.” He said it so casually it took both you and Belanor by surprise. Again before you could say anything you where cut off.

“Ok then,” Belanor said in a still slightly surprised tone. “Try and get her to actually rest, if the fever rises anymore put a cold rag on her head. Make sure she takes this at least twice a day,” Belanor handed him a jar. “And don’t get surprised if she gets a bit delirious or throws up. Have fun.”

He walked out of the infirmary immediately after leaving you and Legolas to blink silently at each other. “So,” Legolas began. “How did you even end up here?”

You felt heat rising in your cheeks and looked away from him. “Passed out…” you mumbled. “It wasn’t too bad, I feel better now.”

You where, in fact, lying. To save face. You didn’t want him to see you as anything other then strong and independent. You didn’t need anyone caring for you and you certainly weren’t weak enough to get sick. Though, you’ve never felt so horrible.

Your nose was stuffed up and you couldn’t breath properly, your throat was sore and swallowing hurt, and your head felt all fuzzy. A couple times you thought your vision was beginning to blur as well. It had been like that for a couple days before finally you collapsed while out on patrol and one of your friends had to carry you all the way here before you finally woke up.

Suddenly there was a hand to your forehead. You brought your eyes back to Legolas who was now standing in front of you, eyes narrowed in concentration and maybe even concern with the back of his hand resting on your forehead. “Um, what are you doing, my Prince?” You questioned.

“I think it’s a human thing.” He said and moved his hand to cup your cheek. “I’ve seen Aragorn do it to others. To check if they were sick.”

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Maybe you where already going delirious like Belanor said, but his hand felt so warm and soft, despite the callouses on his fingers. He brushed a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

Before you knew it you were sept off the bed. It made you a little dizzy but you couldn’t do anything but stammer and pray to the gods Legolas didn’t here or feel the pounding of your heard. “Uh, what are you doing? Where are you going?” You asked quickly.

“I’m taking you back to your house.” Legolas said simply, like this was no big deal.

“I can walk on my own you know!” You protested, wiggling around a bit. “And what if someone sees us Legolas? It would be such a pain if rumors started flying around. People can be so nosy.”

Legolas chuckled, “just a few minutes ago you were struggling to stand on your own. And so what if someone sees us? Let the rumors fly, they dare not ask me about them.”

“But they will ask me.” You protested.

“There is no need to worry mellon nìn,” Legolas said, his voice ever so light and calming. “Relax for now and let me carry you home. Just this once.”

You weren’t really in the position to argue. He was right after all. So you just hummed grumpily and rested your head against his chest.

Soon enough you had fallen asleep. Legolas hoped the sound of his heart thundering in his chest wouldn’t wake you. While he was concerned about you, he couldn’t help but think about how cute you looked.

Eventually he had reached your house. He was comfortable enough to walk in on his own and set you down on your bed. He had been to your home on more then one occasion so he was familiar with the layout.

He grabbed a bowl and filled it with water along with a towel and brought it back to where you were still sleeping. He felt your forehead again before placing a cool towel there. You opened your eyes and looked at him.

“This is completely unnecessary.” You said and then coughed.

“Mhm,” was all Legolas said and nodded.

“I mean it.” You repeated. “I don’t need looking after.”

“I believe you.” He was smiling now and all you could do was glare and pout at him. There was a long stretch of silence before you turned over.

“Feel free to leave whenever you want.” You said, and it came out rather aggressively. You couldn’t see it, but Legolas eyebrows scrunched up and the hurt he felt from your comment clear on his face.

“Ah, um, alright then, I’ll get going.” He got up and walked to your door, stoping in the doorframe. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning, don’t do anything stupid mellon nìn.”

You hummed in acknowledgment and listened as he left your home. You don’t know how much time had passed before you fell asleep that night.

#######

The next morning Legolas did as he said and made his way early over to your home. He knocked twice, waited, knocked again, and when you didn’t answer he decided to let himself in.

“(Y/n)?” He called out when he entered, but he got no response.

“(Y/n) are you here? Is everything alright?” He asked as he walked through your home before checking your bedroom.

You where having a troubled sleep. Your covers kicked all over the place, brows furrowed in distress, pale as ghost with a sheen of sweat on your forehead. Immediately he went and got a bowl and filled it with cold water and after damping a rag he placed it on your forehead. You stirred slightly at his gentle touch.

“Legolas?” You asked softly, bleary eyes beginning to open. His heart beat a little faster as he brushed away some hairs that where sticking to your cheek.

“It’s me,” he said and took the bottle of medicine that Belanor had given to him from your night stand. You groaned as he lifted your head from your pillow and tipped the medicine into your mouth. You wouldn’t drink it. He sighed, stubborn as always.

“It’ll help you feel better.” He said bringing it closer to your mouth.

“It smells gross.” You mumbled, opening your mouth just enough so he could force you to take it.

After that you fell back asleep. He stayed for a few hours, watching you go in and out of sleep, tossing and turning. Every once in a while he would have you take more medicine and replace the cloth resting on your forehead.

Eventually, you where able to form a coherent thought, and the first thing you said (that wasn’t unintelligible mumbling) was, “what’re are you still going here?”

“Ah- well, I was looking after you.” Legolas said. He didn’t understand why you felt the need to always dismiss him when he tried to care for you. There was a time when you could hardly walk due to a wound on your leg and you still refused to let him carry you. He stood up from chair, “but if you wish me to leave then I shall go—”

His sentence was cut off when as he turned away and a hand clasped his wrist. “Stay…” you said looking him dead in the eyes, barely audible, but the clarity in your eyes… “I want you to stay.”

“Alright then…” Legolas said tentatively as he sat on the edge of your bed. You didn’t let go of his hand and instead, ran your thumb thumb soothingly across his knuckles. There was a long stretch of silence where all you did was that and stare at his and your hands resting on his thigh.

“I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.” You spoke finally. “I didn’t mean it to come out that way.”

“It’s alright,” he said quietly.

“I just don’t want you to see me as weak.” Now this, this surprised him.

“Mellon nìn, how could I ever view you as weak?” He started and grasped you hand with both of his and brought it to his chest, leaning forward like he needed you to see him, to look him in the eye and really listen to him.

“Mellon nìn you are the strongest person I know! You are beautiful and talented and so incredibly strong, how could I ever view you as weak? Where on Arda could you even get this notion?”

You just blinked at him. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Eh—” his face, plastered with a look of shock, began to flush red. After recovering he pulled away and looked off to the side, trying to conceal his rising blush. “Well I mean, you are.”

You stifled a laugh and he looked back to you, “Legolas, would you like to lay down?”

“Would you like to lay down?” You repeated slowly.

“Mellon nìn I could not—”

You laughed, “you say that and then continue to call me mellon nìn?”

“Ah, well…”

“Legolas, lay down next to me… please?” There was a small smile on your face. Legolas sighed and gave in, placing himself next to you on the bed. Immediately you rested your head on his chest and slung your arm around his waist. Gingerly, he placed his arm around your shoulders and tugged you a bit closer.

“Are you sure you haven’t gone delusional?” He asked.

You hummed contently and yawned, “I might be.”

“If I can’t call you mellon nìn anymore… what shall I call you?” He asked.

“There’s an assortment of endearing nicknames out there,” you mumbled. “Take your pick by the time I wake up.”

Not even moments later you had fallen into a comfortable sleep in his arms. He stared down at you studying your face and using his free hand to twirl stands of your hair and brush them away from your face.

“I believer there’s only one name for me to call you now,” he whispered. “Meleth nìn.”

[seungkw1]

untitled (hoshi oneshot)

pairing: kwon soonyoung x reader (gender not explicity mentioned)

word count: 1.3k

genre: exes to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: drinking, cursing, implied sex

author's note: hi this is literally the very first fic i've ever written in my life!! it's just a short one but any constructive feedback is appreciated :)

What an annoying fucking day. 

Missing the bus and being late for work, coworkers getting on your nerves, and to top it all off you completely forgot to do that important task that was due today, so you ended up staying late. It was only Tuesday, but you needed a goddamn drink.

It was already dark by the time you stepped out into the freezing cold air, and you huddled up in your coat as you made your way to the mediocre dive bar down the block. Not your top choice, but it was close. You ordered a vodka soda and zoned out as you listened to whatever depressing ass Smiths song was playing - shitty vibe, but you were too tired to care. 

So when the man you had vaguely noticed was staring at you from your peripheral vision got up and headed towards you, you sighed as you turned to immediately shut that shit down. 

“Sorry but I am really not in the mood for a conversation right n-“ your stomach dropped as you made eye contact with the all-too-familiar face. 

“I thought that was you,” your ex-fiancé said sheepishly. 

Frozen in shock, it took you a good five seconds for you to utter a response. 

“Soonyoung?”

What the FUCK was he doing here?

As if he read your mind, he explained, “I’m in town this week for a work conference, but I didn’t expect to run into… anybody I knew.” He paused, waiting for your reaction. More silence. After what felt like an eternity you finally snapped out of it.  

“Um… me neither.” 

Jesus Christ, pull yourself together. 

It had been nearly two years since you last saw him. The breakup had felt like a relief then - he was moving across the country and you never planned to see or hear from him again. Especially not in some random fucking bar on a Tuesday. 

Your heart raced as you noted that he looked good. Like, really good. 

“Mind if I join?” he gestures to the vacant seat next to you. 

“Yeah, definitely. I mean- no I don’t mind. Sorry yeah go ahead, sure” you tripped over your words. Why the hell are you so nervous? It’s just your ex. 

Yeah, just the person I very nearly married. Just the person I had once considered my soulmate…

You shove that thought to the back of your mind. 

Soonyoung sits down and awkwardly begins to make small talk - something neither of you are that great at. You chat politely for a few minutes, asking each other the usual generic questions.  There’s clearly so much you want to say to each other, but you both hold back. 

“Soooo… how’s the…” he pauses. Shaking his head, he abandons whatever he was going to say. He turns and makes eye contact with you, giving you a questioning look. You feel your heart rate spiking. You try not to think about how handsome he looks right now. 

“Do you still like playing pool?” He nods his head over to the open pool table in the corner. A smile involuntarily creeps onto your face and you see his eyes light up in response. The tension suddenly melts away. 

“Only if I can still kick your ass.”

—

A few drinks and several rounds of pool later, you and Soonyoung are laughing it up as if you hadn’t spent a single day apart. 

“Tired of losing yet?” you taunt sarcastically. You are both terrible at pool and neither of you even know how to play properly. But neither of you care about the game at this point anyway - you’re lost in old stories and inside jokes. 

And god, he looks REALLY good. 

Soonyoung pulls out his phone and laughs as he checks the time. 

“Uh-ohhh, it’s gotten prettttty late. We better get you home before you turn into a pumpkin!” You roll your eyes but feel a sudden tinge of sadness. You were truly enjoying yourself - more than you had in a long time - and you weren’t ready for the night to end. But it was getting a bit late. 

“Ugh let me check the train, who knows how long until the next one.” You go to put your coat on but he’s already holding it up for you, not realizing his old habit. 

“Fuck the train, I’m driving you home! It’s toooo cold,” he insists. You let out a short laugh - he only had one more drink but he was clearly drunk. 

“No, dummy, you are in no condition to operate a vehicle. I’ll drive for you.” 

—

You park Soonyoung’s car near your apartment building. He’s mostly sobered up by this point, but he’s clearly a little embarrassed about the fact that he had spent a good chunk of the ride crying as he apologized and confessed that he really missed you. But honestly, you realize that you had really missed him too. 

“Welp, here we are… guess I’d better get going,” he says, trying to hide his mopiness at the thought of leaving you. He slowly starts to open the passenger door but you catch his sleeve to hold him back. As you pull him back into his seat you find your hand subtly sliding up around his bicep. Fuck, he was even more muscular than you remembered. 

“Excuse me but I am not letting you behind this wheel until you are fully sobered up, which you clearly are not,” you tell him firmly. “Come on babe, we’re going inside and getting you something to eat.” The affectionate name rolled off your tongue so naturally that you didn’t even notice you’d said it. 

His eyes light up again. He had always been stunning, but in this moment he was insanely hot. Still holding onto his bicep, memories of his toned body flash through your mind as you feel the heat rising inside you. 

Is this really happening? Fuck, I want him so bad. 

And the way he looks back at you, you know he wants you too.

—

“What do you want, leftover pizza? A sandwich? Ramen?” 

“Ooooh RAMEN!” Soonyoung exclaims eagerly as he comes running into the kitchen. “Pretty please,” he adds with a goofy grin. It all felt so natural. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this, missed him. 

“Drink this,” you force a cup of water into his hands. Your hands brush and you instantly get butterflies. 

Jesus what is this, a middle school crush?? 

He locks eyes with you. Huge pang in your stomach. 

Okay, yeah. You need him. Badly. Right now. 

Overwhelmed, you panic and turn back to busy yourself with the ramen, but you find yourself too distracted to even continue that. 

Soonyoung can’t wait any longer. He grabs you by the hips and turns you around, pulling your body into his. He’s already excited, and you feel his excitement grow even more as he wraps his arms around you and kisses you with more intensity than you’ve ever felt before. 

Fireworks. Electricity. All the things. In that moment, nothing in the world mattered but you and Soonyoung.

God damn. 

He breaks the kiss so he can take a look at you. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that right?” He gently grabs your chin and tilts your face up toward him, going in for another kiss. 

You suddenly become aware of the ramen packet that’s still in your hand. You giggle and he ends up kissing you on the teeth. You both burst out laughing and Soonyoung pulls you even tighter into his arms. You feel both of your hearts pounding in your chests. 

He places his forehead against yours. “Soooo…”

“Soooo what?” You give him a tiny peck on the lips. He gives you a tiny peck back. 

“Soooo aren’t you gonna invite me into your room?”

“What for?” you ask coyly. 

“Mmmm I think I have a few things in mind,” he says in a low voice. 

“Like whaaaat,” you tease. 

You feel the both of you becoming even more excited as he mutters into your ear. 

“Mmm I like the sound of that,” you say softly. Then jokingly, “but what about your ramen?”

“I think I have an appetite for something else now…” 

[end]

—

find me on ao3 as well ♡

[trashc-anon]

hazbin hotel is polluting my mind so if I were the editor's intern: reco

• either stretch the season into 16 episodes or cut the plotlines in half;

• definitaly cut Alastor's screen time in half (if not more)

• make up your mind how much of the pilot is canon (especially regarding Lucifer)

• episode 1 is good as is, a soft reboot from the pilot without getting in too much detail and I love hating Adam, "Hell is Forever" is banger (i hope the music writers were properly paid and Disney learns why AI is a bad idea!)

• episode 2 is a problem, because Sir Pentious presence is only because of the V's, make that episode 2/2;

• ep 1/2 - Charlie and Vaggie leave the hotel to recruit; Sir Pentious attacks, all on schedule

• Charlie or Vaggie save some of the eggs from being crushed; when the "battle" is over, Pentious is cautiosly agrees to entertain their hospitalty; angel is untrusting;

• "Starts with Sorry"

• leave the Vs as unseen foes, and Alastor's only appearance is his shadow at the end of the episode (Overlords are mysterious unseen threat)

• episode 2/2 - Vs are anxious that Alastor is with the princess;

• see, the first couple of episodes make sense, but they take away from the girls and the hotel

• but "Stayed Gone" is sooo good! maybe use at a later date?

nevermind

• "Stayed Gone" is a fun song, BUT it doesn't make sense for Alastor, mysterious serial killer, to have childish rivalries; why didn't he kill Vox back when he rejected him and Vox got 'pissy'?

• either make Vox less pathetic or less there;

• soooo, episode 3/1 is would be trust exercises

• i actually liked Angel's plan with BDSM, he's not wrong and I wished he had the chance to be an adult that LIKES sex separate from the victim that uses overtsexuality as a defence mechanism

• each character could have their own moment to show what trust means to them; trust comes in different shades;

• between Angel and Maggie we see sexual intimacy and surviving extreme situations; Husk has issues with openess; Niffty with intrusive thoughts;

• IN FACT! actually stablish WHY Husk and Niffty are part of the exercises! they're not guests, Husk says as much, they are employees LOANED by Alastor; they're not there to earn redemption; *vague hand gesture in confusion*

• OKAY - Overlord meeting... ehhhhhh

• i still want to cut Alastor's screentime! whats the point of the meeting? screentime for the overlords, the dead angel (which we know, but main cast won't until episode 7) Carmila being responsible is important, we need to know who to ask for help, but ugh. I get its also, prelude that you need love to fight and win against angels, but its never stablished in canon, Carmila says it to Maggie to use as internal compass to keep her fighting beyond pain and fear; bloodlust is distracting, love is focused;

• my delight with Zestial being all dark and yummy need to take a hike for the sake of - what am i even doing any more?

• I can't help but think how much of these decision are also based on Voice Actor salaries; because Keith David (Husk) gotta be expensive and for a character that is literaly always presented he almost never talks; and just, ALL of them being expensive and ~ahahah better make fewer episodes if you want big names in your projects~

• ughhhh that's when you know a series has issues, when trying to fix you run into a thousand more problems;

• i would respect how much they put into 8 episodes, ONLY IF it's true they didn't know they would get season 2. Because in that case a bunch of these plot lines needed to be dropped, I don't care how fanfavorite the character is;

• the Vs serve no purpose what so ever, you can easily have Valentino as a lone villain (also less confusion about hells social rules about SA and abuse);

• Lucifer should've been the last big name to enter screen; work up to the trial with Heaven for S2E01 (why even a trial)

• just how PLOT heavy is this series that Viv needed Lilith's bomb to drop in season 1? which is a major inconsistancy for a series based on the theme of redemption, a CHARACTER heavy theme;

• as it is, i don't see how Sir Pentious being redeemed is a good thing, because he died before entering Heaven, so other souls need to die too and hope it's not forever? wouldn't that fuel Exterminators cause to kill in name of 'clensing'? (holy shit, the more I write the worse it gets)

• IS there an primordial EVIL to scare the angels so badly?

• omg I hope they won't try to bring actual GOD into the series; I know there is concept art floating around, but please, do not;

• Supernatural barely got away with it in Season 5 because it was a funny 'what if' and made it got bad in Season 10 (?) (no series should ever emulate Supernatural, its a warning I mean it, don't, not worth it, you don't have 10+ years of dead horse to beat)(the fans, me, stayed out of, idk, regretfull loyalty)

• my english is not good enough for this... KAY IM DONE NOW! BYEEEE

[mushroom-creacher]

Car Troubles

Chapter 3

< - >

“Ok, so what’s this movie about again?” Nancy asked.

She and Robin were in the backseat of Steve’s car as he drove to the now-closed movie theater.

“This newly engaged couple gets a flat tire in a storm and finds this, like, creepy mansion and meets all these weird people partying to celebrate something the master of the manor has accomplished. Things only get weirder through the night as they encounter the mad scientist who owns the place and his unconventional creation.” Robin was grinning as she vaguely explained the plot to the other two.

“I still don’t understand why they wouldn’t just show it in the theater normally,” Steve spoke up, Robin had been evasive in his questions about this film. He was starting to worry about what could be so bad.

“Trust me, this town would lose it if this was ever shown publicly. You’ll understand once you watch it.”

“Have you ever tried not being so vague?”

“Nope!”

Steve parked a few stores down from the theater. “Eddie said to meet him in the alley.”

“Let’s hurry! I don’t want to miss it!” Robin practically jumped out of the car with Nancy right behind her.

The teens walked past the stores and around the movie theater to the alley behind the building. It only took a moment to spot Eddie in the alley. The young man was dressed in all black with a tattered old band shirt cut into a crop top, a knee-length skirt over ripped fishnets, and a tight leather jacket, his makeup as dark as the rest of his outfit.

Steve felt his face grow warm as he stared at Eddie, gesturing them over to the back door. His heart was racing in his chest. He felt as if he couldn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him.

“Steve? Are you ok?” Nancy’s voice broke through Steve’s daze, bringing him back from his thoughts.

“Huh? “Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, let’s head in,” He shook himself back to the present as he and the others walked into the back of the theater.

“I’m glad I wore my good suspenders now,” Robin chuckled as she nodded to Eddie’s outfit.

Eddie grinned, leading them to the last showing room down the hall. “Yeah, a lot of us thought it’d be in good spirits to dress up a little unconventionally.”

As they walked into the darkened room, they noticed there were only a little over 30 other people seated. Most were people like Eddie and his friends, but Steve noticed a few people from the basketball team. And the cheer squad. And band. What movie could get all these people to hang out with each other in secret like this?

Steve couldn’t think too hard about it before a hand from the crowd waved them over to 4 empty seats.

“Is that Chrissy Cunningham?!” Robin practically shouted.

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool. She helped me with my makeup.”

The group made their way to the empty seats next to Chrissy. She was dressed in a plain dress shirt and slacks with an old vest and matching tie. Steve felt even more underdressed for this movie.

“Hey! I’m so glad you guys could make it! It’s Steve, Nancy, and Robin, right?” Chrissy cheerily stood up to greet the group of teens. It made sense why she was captain of the cheer squad now. The girl practically radiated pep.

“Yep, that’s us! It’s nice to meet you, Chrissy.” Nancy stuck out her hand for Chrissy to shake. Chrissy giggled as she shook the other girl’s hand.

“It’s good to finally meet you too! I read every issue of the school newspaper; I love what you’ve done with it this year!”

“Oh wow, thank you! I’m glad the improvements have been noticed!”

“Yeah, you can absolutely tell the difference between the past issues and now. Like someone’s putting actual effort into it for once.”

“I hate to interrupt but the movie’s gonna start soon soooo,” Eddie said as he took the seat closest to the aisle.

“Oh! Right, sorry! Let’s absolutely talk later though, I’d love to hear your thoughts about the paper.”

“Totally!”

The rest of the teens took their seats and quietly chatted as they waited for the movie to start. 

The dark room was suddenly illuminated by the 20th Century Fox logo projected onto the screen followed by a pair of red lips on the black background.

“Michael Rennie was ill, the day the earth stood still.”

I guess it’s a musical, Steve thought. Cute wedding.

“The river was deep, but I swam it.”

So, they’re the main couple, got it. He just had chalk on him? Aw, he proposed.

“I would like, if I may...”

Who’s this guy? How’d he get all those pictures?? I knew it was a horror movie.

“Yes, Janet. Life’s pretty cheap to that type.”

That line earned a row of boos from some of the crowd, including Eddie.

“In the velvet darkness...”

Definitely a horror movie. It was literally called the ‘Frankenstein Place’! They’re not coming out of that castle. That bald guy’s gonna kill them. Well, that maid is definitely crazy!

“It’s astounding. Time is fleeting.”

Steve could hear the crowd getting excited, some even singing along with the movie.

“Let’s do the time warp again!”

Steve smiled as he looked around at the people who got up to dance in the aisle. He didn’t think a horror movie could be this silly. He looked at his group next to him. Robin had pulled Nancy into the aisle to dance while Chrissy cheered them on. He chuckled while watching Nancy nervously dance along with Robin’s fast pace. Those two were total opposites but fit so well together. He turned his attention to Eddie who was singing along and playing the air guitar. His eyes met Steve’s and he gave his signature grin. Steve quickly turned back to the screen, trying to ignore the blush on his face.

“How do you do?”

Steve jumped as the crowd erupted into cheers and whistles and applause. His jaw almost dropped as the flamboyant character strutted onto the screen. He’d never seen anything like this on TV before, he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. I guess he knew why it’s a secret now.

He quickly pulled his thoughts back to the plot of the movie.

“I hold the secret to life itself!”

So, it is like Frankenstein. That’s why it’s called ‘Rocky Horror’! Wow, that guy is muscular...

“Eddie!”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle and turn to the man next to him. The similarities between the two were abundant.

“Whoo! Yeah!” He cheered at his fictional namesake.

Steve nodded along to the music until Frank N Furter came running onto the screen with a pickaxe.

Oh shit! Guess we’re back to horror... Oh, he’s gay, that makes sense.

“Who is it? Who’s there?”

Probably the murderer. Oh, it’s Brad. OH THAT’S NOT BRAD Wait, I thought he liked guys?

Poor Rocky... Those two are assholes.

“Oh, Brad, darling, it’s no good here!”

Oh, hey there’s Janet again. NOT AGAIN So he does like guys... and girls?

“What’s happening here? Where’s Brad?”

Brad’s, uh, busy. Poor Rocky... How are you going to be mad? You did the same thing! I’m no doctor but I don’t think that’s how you dress a wound right. Is that a Mickey Mouse hat?

“I was feeling done in.”

Ah, unexpected romance. Oh- uh, this got horny real fast-

“Mercy!”

Oh, here comes the others, this won’t end well... Nice Jacket. New character? Earthling? Oh yeah, that professor guy they went to go see. Oh, he’s mad...

“Great Scott!”

Steve chuckled at the Back to the Future reference.

Eddie? Well, unfortunately, he’s dead. Nephew? Oh shit- And Janet’s been caught.

“Master! Dinner is prepared!”

Worst timing ever... Awkward... Poor girl... she really liked Eddie... Aliens??

“From the day he was born,”

Just talking shit about your missing nephew, ok. Oh shit, he left a note! OH FUCK, HIS BODY

“I’ll tell you once. I won’t tell you twice!”

Someone’s jealous. He’s trapped them... With science! Earth people?? Well, now you’re all statues.

“My God! I can’t stand any more of this!”

Yes! Stand up for yourself! Avenge Eddie! Ah damn...

“It was great when it all began!”

Oh yay! She’s back! Damn Rocky can sing! Brad’s gonna fall in those shoes... Well, Judy’s doing just fine! Do they just have a pool under their stage?? OH SHIT HIS LEGS Heh back to rock n roll!

“Frank N Furter!”

What the fuck?? Wait are they really aliens???

“Wait! I can explain!”

That’s... really sweet... They’re not gonna kill him, right?? No! Oh shit, it doesn’t kill Rocky! No! Rocky!

“And crawling on the planet’s face, some insects called the human race, lost in time and lost in space and meaning.”

“Science Fiction...”

Most of the crowd, including Eddie, Chrissy, and Robin, stood up and cheered as the credits rolled. Steve sat in his seat, staring at the screen.

“Wow.” Nancy’s voice broke the silence beside him, similarly, staring at the now dark screen in front of them.

“Yeah,” was all Steve could respond with. Steve imagined she was having a similar reaction to the movie as he did, a mix of shock, awe, and confusion.

“Well, it certainly explains the secrecy,” Nancy chuckled.

“Heh, yeah, definitely.”

Eddie turned to the rest of the group as the audience started to make their way out of the theater.

“You guys wanna grab some food?”

“Sounds good to me.” Nancy and Steve stood up and followed the others back out to the alley.

“I know a great place near the trailer park, just follow my van.” Eddie and Chrissy made their way to the beat-up old van parked right behind the theater.

“Got it, my car’s just a couple stores down. I’ll pull it up.” Steve started walking to where he had parked the car. He got in, put the key into the ignition, and… Nothing.

“What?”

He turned the key once, twice, and three more times. The car wouldn’t start.

“Fuck!” Steve slammed the door shut as he got out and walked back to the group.

“What’s wrong? I thought you were gonna bring the car around?” Robin asked, crossing her arms to fight the slight chill in the air.

“Car troubles. Again. The damn thing won’t start.”

“God dammit, Steve. Just replace that junk already!”

“You try car shopping on our paycheck, Rob!”

“Want me to take a look at it? I’ve my toolbox in the van,” Eddie offered.

“Yeah, that’d be great, thank you so much, Eddie.”

Eddie smiled as he opened his van’s back door and grabbed his toolbox. “No problem, pretty boy.”

A blush crept its way across Steve’s face again. That seemed to happen a lot around Eddie. Steve ignored the glances exchanged between the girls and led Eddie to his car.

[rosewaterandivy]

a fool without a cause | track 2: seether

🎶 oh, she is not born like other girls, but I know how to conceive her 🎶

summary: Tweedledee and Tweedledum show you the ropes.

word count: ~2K

warnings: 18 + for eventual smut, empire records AU | The gang are in their early twenties, college-aged, cursing, name calling, vague mentions of crime

a/n: just some minor exposition as I continue to clean out my drafts.

Series masterlist | Playlist | Currently spinning: 

“And this our night manager, Eddie,” Hopper mutters waving toward the man reclining on the dilapidated sofa in the lounge. He shuffles through a pile of papers on his desk. “Eddie, mind your manners.”

The man in question doesn’t move from his spot on the couch at the center of the room. Long limbs and silver jewelry shrouded by a cascade of curls, he grunts in greeting.

Well shit.

It's the guy from earlier, the asshole who was smoking as you pulled up this morning.

“Charmed,” you reply with a smirk, crossing your arms across your chest and lean against the office door. “Soooo,” you drawl, “Hop tells me you committed the perfect crime?”

He looks at you with slightly dazed brown eyes, almost lost in thought. “Well,” he allows, “Not entirely perfect.” He kisses his teeth and spies Hopper behind you in the office, “You said I could hire the next employee, Hop!”

Hopper lets out a long-suffering sigh, “That was before the incident, Munson.” He grabs the night deposit pouch and shoves it in his back pocket. 

“Ooh,” you enthuse, curiosity piqued, “Color me intrigued.” You move aside as he grabs his keys, getting ready to leave.

Hop scoffs and locks the office behind him. “Ass glued to that couch,” he threatens Eddie with a pointed finger, “I mean it.”

“Aye, aye cap’n,” Eddie chirps with a mock salute. 

“Newbie’s in charge while I’m out.” 

“The hell man?” He sneers, “Indie Sleaze over here isn’t even a manager,” Eddie complains from his spot on the couch, fluffing the pillow in his lap.

“Tsk,” you cluck out in disapproval, “Might be by the end of the day if you fuck up enough.” And follow Hopper out onto the shop floor.

The mid-morning crowd consists of regulars, from what you can tell. Robin mans the sale desk behind the counter in front of the staircase while Steve fiddles with the sound system at the registers.

“Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum,” Hop calls out, “I’m headed to the bank.” He chucks a thumb behind him, gesturing to you. “This is the new hire, she’s in charge while I’m out—don’t fuck it up.”

Robin nods and greets you with a wave before turning to address a customer with a canvas tote of items. Steve leans against the sound system consol, phone forgotten in his hand. “Heeyyy,” he drawls, lips ticking up in a slow smile while he eyes you up and down. “Gotta name, newbie?”

You smile in return, but before you can respond Eddie shouts loudly from the back room, “She’s our very own brand of indie sleaze, Stevie!”

Steve laughs good-naturedly with a shake of his head, “Ignore Ed, he’s just a little wound up today s’all.” He opens the half-door behind the register and waves you through. “Indie’s a cute name though,” he says, licking his lips, “We can put that on your nametag, if you’d like?”

“Uh, sure,” you agree with a nod, “That’s fine.”

“Harrington,” Hopper warns, “Stop flirting with the newbie. If you’re not at register, I need you working on inventory, got it?”

“You hate me that much man?” Steve follows Hopper to the end of the counter, “I didn’t even do anything, Ed is the one that—” He hops over the ledge to follow after Hopper, trying to plead his case.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Hop grouses, “You take care of it and try to keep Munson in line.” And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves the store, the front door chiming as it swings open. 

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his coiffed hair, muttering to himself. He turns back to you with a reassuring smile. “Okay,” he claps his hands together, “Time for the grand tour.”

The store is huge, three storeys all told, with rooms and levels labeled by media and genre. By the entrance are two counters, one for customers to sell their items to the store and another for regular transactions. A few bookshelves grace the main entrance, stocked with newer releases or highlighting local artists. The vast front windows are dressed with stenciled advertisements, “Back to school sale!” And “Ask about discounts for students and teachers!”

The main floor is dominated by DVDs, Blu-rays, CDs, tapes, and vinyl. The higher-priced items enclosed in glass cases flanking the wall. The book section begins at the front but flows into the next room and dominates the second floor and basement. Vinyl overflow is housed in the second room as well, easy enough to monitor from the front desk and CC TV feed. Located directly behind the register and re-sale counters lies the faculty lounge and Hop’s office. 

“So, any questions?” Steve asks, depositing you back at the registers. You shake your head considering that you can barley keep the flow of media/genres straight.

Sensing how overwhelmed you could get, he smiled. “Would you believe me if I told you it gets easier?”

“Guess I’ll take your word for it.”

Satisfied with your response, Steve goes back to fiddling with the sound system. “Hop usually insists on his playlist when he’s here,” he tosses over his shoulder, “But we can’t stand his penchant for the glory days, soooo.” 

Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping” booms through the speakers and you can hear Eddie groan from the office. It’s certainly a choice for 10 in the morning, but who are you to complain? Especially when Steve he looks so cute mouthing the lyrics to himself and tucking a pen behind his ear.

“Indie!” 

You turn to find Robin at the opposite counter bag of Sour Patch Kids in hand. “I need to make your name tag, come and help me out!” Leaving Steve at the register, you wander back to the re-sale desk that Robin has completely covered in markers and flair pens of every conceivable color. 

Dutifully, you respond to her questions of your favorite color, glitter or sequins, and so forth. She offers you a handful of candy from her stash beneath the counter, “This bad boy,” she thumps the counter with her palm, “Can hold so much high-fructose corn syrup!” And invites you to grab some anytime you need a pick me up.

“Ta-daaa!” She sings presenting you with a nametag decorated with holographic glitter and purple gel pen. You take it from her with a smile of thanks, eyeing the loops and swoops of her handwritten ‘Indie’ - the ‘i’ dotted with a heart, naturally.

“Thanks, Robin,” you say with a smile and loop the lanyard around your neck.

Stepping back behind the register, you watch as Steve deals with a few customers. Always quick with a smile or joke, and you can see why the regulars like him. As evidenced by the teenage girls blushing furiously as they scamper off with the latest Olivia Rodrigo release.

"Harrington," Eddie shouts from his spot on the couch in the lounge. "I swear to Christ that I am going to smother myself if I have to listen to anymore this shit!"

Steve just smirks and hollers back, "Then use your veto dumbass!"

"Never!"

It's all a moot point as the song fades into "Flashed Junk Mind" by Milky Chance. Which Eddie apparently has no objections to.

Settling into an easy rhythm, you shadow Steve for the remainder of your shift. Desperately trying to commit the procedures to memory, which is kind of difficult when he keeps catching your eye.

Well, there are worse things to be distracted by and it is only your first day on the job, after all.

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Hi! Can I get a Hanako x Fem! Sweet! Reader, with a side of fluff?

Plot: Hanako and Y/N are practically besties so they tell each other everything. Except their feelings, but Hanako just has a HUGE crush on them. Y’know, the usual stuff best friends go through. Y/N always calls Hanako sweet/cute names like: Bestie, Love, Hun, Best friend, Lovely or that type of stuff.

hanako x fem!reader

a/n : hiii !!! i apologize for the suuuper late response , but i hope you enjoy !!! also , apologies if this didn’t quite turn out how you had been hoping <//3

warnings : none <3

word count : 706

A story told countless times… what sort of cliche situation had Hanako found himself in. He often wondered this, but he also wondered-- who WOULDN’T like (Y/N)? The way she always made time to hang out with him, her smile, and (though he’d never properly admit it to himself) cute name she’d call him… it made his heart feel like it was going to burst.

He felt silly, blushing like an idiot, and covering up his embarrassment with bad jokes or topic changes, but… he couldn’t really help it. His lack of romantic experience mixing with his undeniably crush on (Y/N) send his mind into pure chaos. A feeling that he was hoping to express to her today.

“Hanako!” The voice of the one and only girl who could capture Hanako’s heart shouted as she rounded the corner, in a slightly singsong-y voice. Quickly, Hanako sat up (since he had previously been leaning against an outside wall, going over how on EARTH he would express his feelings) and looked over at the door, his face practically lighting up.

“What’s up, love?” (Y/N) asked, as her ghost-y best friend floated over to her, ruffling her hair and pinching her face a bit. 

“Ahah, uh-- nothing, what’s up with you?” Hanako responded, face warming up slightly as he remembered the vague letter he left in her locker. 

After swatting his hands away, (Y/N) held up the familiar letter, then began reading. “Dear (Y/N), please meet me at the back entrance of the school, after you, the kid, and Yashiro finish cleaning the bathroom! Thanks, signed Hanako.” She finished her reading with a quirked-eyebrow glance at Hanako, her mouth lifted in a smirk. 

“Ohh, that thing!” Hanako responded, rubbing the back of his neck, and floating slightly backwards to give (Y/N) space.

“Yeah, ‘that thing’,” She mocked a bit, before taking a slight step towards Hanako. “Soooo? Why’d you want me to meet up here, of all places?”

Hanako knew the answer, of course. In the back of his mind, he debating being blunt with his answer-- “because it’s weird to confess in the bathroom! And, well, because every other student has the cliche ‘confessing outside of the school’ and it seemed like a nice gesture that you deserve!” But, of course, he couldn’t quite muster that.

“Ohh, y’know…” He muttered, suddenly forgetting any prepared words he had. His heart began to race, alongside his mind.

“Bestie, it’s alright. We tell each other literally everything! It’s not like I’ll judge you, so spit it out, you goof,” (Y/N) responded, smiling patiently at Hanako. Her words and precious smile made Hanako’s face warm up a bit more, but… somehow, he felt reassured. 

“Uhhh… okay, to be honest-- I really like you. Really, really, as in romantic-- as in, I’m, uh… I’m kind of in love with you, (Y/N). You don’t have to return the feelings, but I wanted to tell you! The way you… are willing to hang out with me, and your sweet personality, and your smile--” Hanako covered his face, feeling as though his (most likely still cold, seeing as he was dead) skin was going to catch on fire. 

“Oh,” (Y/N) responded, her voice gentle and quiet as she formulated a response. “Hanako, sweetie, I like you too. I really, really like you,” She spoke, grabbing his hands and moving them away from his face. 

For a moment, Hanako could only stare in response, pleasantly surprised at her answer. It took a moment, as he thought about what she had just said, for it to click in his mind. 

“YOU LIKE ME TOO?!” He asked, grinning widely and cupping her face. (Y/N) giggled, placing her hands on Hanako’s forearms and nodding. Hanako wasn’t the only one blushing, as Hanako felt (Y/N) warm skin beneath his cold fingers. 

“Man,” He sighed, a laugh still mixed in his voice, as he brought (Y/N) into a hug. “I’m so gladddd,” He continued, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek. “Then… you want to be my girlfriend? I assume that’s the next step…?”

(Y/N) nodded, placing a kiss of her own to Hanako’s cheek. “I would love that!”