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#I actually want to write a longer fic with this prompt
withleeknow · 1 day
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i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝
me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)
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light years.
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summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.
pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi
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I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue
I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier
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One.
Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.
While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.
Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.
And above all, he's got you.
You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.
You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.
Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.
"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"
What does he think?
Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.
Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.
It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.
In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.
You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.
Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.
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Two.
Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.
Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.
But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.
He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.
It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.
As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.
He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.
Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.
He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.
"How did it go?" he asks gently.
You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.
"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."
Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.
You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.
Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.
Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.
"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."
Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.
I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.
But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.
"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."
Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.
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Three.
Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.
To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.
You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.
He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?
He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.
You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.
You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."
"Please elaborate."
"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."
Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?
"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."
"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"
And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?
I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.
You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.
For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.
But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.
"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."
Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.
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Four.
Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.
Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.
He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.
You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.
All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.
Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.
"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.
Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.
He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.
You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."
He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.
He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.
Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.
Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.
He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"
"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."
Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.
You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.
"What look?"
"You had a look."
"No, I didn't," Minho insists.
"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"
He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.
"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.
You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."
"What? I'm speaking from experience."
"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"
"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."
Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"
"How do you know they didn't come true?"
"Because..."
Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.
Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.
"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."
There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.
"No, what were you going to say?"
"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.
"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.
What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?
And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.
"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."
He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.
But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.
What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.
Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.
The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.
"I've waited for you long enough."
His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"
You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.
Then it all comes rushing out.
"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."
Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.
If you really love me too.
Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.
He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.
He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.
"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."
You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?
You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"
Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.
Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"
You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.
Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]
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starlingflight · 1 day
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Hiiii!
I just wanted to butt in and say how much I love your hinny fanfics especially the once’s set in hbp. (I’m not going to say how many times I have reread them, it’s too embarrassing 🙈) The way you write them, the banter and chemistry!! Honestly sometimes it feels like I’m eavesdropping on someone else conversation because you make them seem so real. I love the pinning. :)
It’s fun to read about how tortured harry is and how he feels ‘normal’ and not under so much pressure when Ginny is around! I have a suggestion if you don’t mind (ignore this otherwise and accept my apology <3). I would love to read something you about Harry pinning over Ginny while she is with Dean and see his thoughts. The monster in his chest! I love reading about the early stages of their relationship it’s so cute! Or something like that
I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope you know that your writing is spectacular!!
Hi anon!
First of all, thank you so, so, so much for this! It literally made my day! The idea that anyone re-reads my fics makes me so happy, I can't even explain 🥺🥺🥺
And now I fear I must disappoint you 😭 I've tried writing this prompt three different ways, and I can't make it work… I very rarely explore Ginny's relationship with Dean until they're broken up and there's a reason for that (I hope you're ready for some less than complimentary takes about my two faves): Both Harry and Ginny use Dean as a coping mechanism.
Ginny stays with Dean way longer than she should, to an extent it's almost out of character for her. Why? In my opinion, because if she breaks up with Dean, she has to deal with something that's increasingly staring her in the face, the fact that Harry likes her, and despite all the work she's done on herself, she still wants to drop everything to be with him. It's an uncomfortable realisation for someone as independent as Ginny.
The sheer force of her feelings for Harry is a lot for her to accept, and it's easier for her to just stay with Dean who, while nice, inspires no such depth of emotion. It's not fair to Dean, but it's a self-preservation tactic that Ginny appears to be subconsciously committed to throughout HBP.
Now, onto the reason I'm struggling to write your lovely (and appreciated) request. Harry James Potter, number 1 avoider of emotions, actually finds the Dean relationship very convenient tbh. Do you know who doesn't have to deal with their ever-increasing feelings for their best friend's little sister? The guy whose best friend's little sister has a boyfriend.
There's a large section of HBP after Harry sees the Dinny kiss (and the chest monster is born), where Ginny lingers at the back of Harry's mind (and in his dreams) but he never really consciously dwells on his feelings for Ginny. Harry isn't ready to face it, and he doesn't have to because Ginny has a boyfriend.
It's only when Ginny and Dean break up that Harry starts to panic, not that Ginny won't reciprocate his feelings, only that Ron will be mad. It's one of the reasons I love hinny as a couple… on some level they both know. Even when neither of them want to haha.
Harry never views Dean as an obstacle in canon, because really he's not (sorry Dean, I still love you). I think he probably had very fleeting moments of envy (I wrote about Harry not liking Ginny wearing Dean's West Ham jumper 😅), but I don't think Harry believes for a moment that Dean is competition (I did write him having a little crisis of confidence about Dean post sectumsempra incident in FAIY, but that's really just Harry looking for ways to make himself feel bad because of his guilt). Dean is just a convenient reason for Harry not to deal with a messy emotional situation.
Really, is it any wonder Dean smashes that glass?
Anyway, apologies for the essay, I do really appreciate being sent prompts and I wish I could fulfil this one to your satisfaction! I hope someone with a slightly different hinny interpretation than me might be inspired by it ❤️❤️❤️
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viperwhispered · 2 days
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I just wanna take a moment to say thank you for always being around to chat since I don't have many to talk to about TWST. I also suck at characterization so I don't write many fics. But I was very happy when you used one of our discussions for Revel in You. I don't mind if you use our convos to write, just be sure to credit the source.
On that note: saw your smut posts. Here's an idea: Jamil celebrating his promotion to being a Housewarden.
It's Friday, there's an enormous party going on to celebrate Jamil and Kalim's new roles and the successes of the first month with this new dynamic. While Jamil is more accustomed to the spotlight, he still gets "tired out" and leaves it to Kalim to keep the party going and organize the clean up crew. After all, he's due for a more private celebration of his own.
Fun fact: for a good chunk of snake species, the male will bite the females neck to hold them down while mating.
Imagine Jamil relentlessly taking his beloved from behind, deciding they're wriggling a bit too much. Delighting in the sounds they make as he pulls them towards him by the hair, he just bites the back of their neck as his body pins them to the bed. They'll probably be annoyed by morning, but Jamil's already got some concealers beforehand.
Did I forget to mention it's a Friday, Jamil no longer has roomates, and pretty much the entire dorm is still partying to loud music several hallways away?
Also worth mentioning that, as a healthy mature couple, all of Jamil's jealousy and possessiveness is addressed in a healthy manner so the relationship never turns toxic. This statement does not apply to the bedroom.
Aww thank you, always happy to talk with you too 😊 Plus like, if you’d rather talk over messages sometime in addition to the asks, feel free. (And this applies to anyone else reading this post too.)
Yeah iirc I was thinking a bit if I should ask you about using that ask as a jumping off point for To Revel in You, but I figured I was using it more as inspiration rather than rewriting anything you wrote or anything like that. And that since you sent that ask in the first place, I did kinda assume it would be okay to build off it. But good to hear I wasn’t wrong in thinking so, and glad you liked it.
As for characterization & writing: it really is a matter of practice, I’d say. Plus, like, everyone is bound to interpret the characters in a different way, or focus on different aspects of them. Which can be freeing, in a way, knowing that you can bring to the table something that no one else can, certainly not in the same exact way you would.
Also I was actually thinking of asking for some writing prompts since the current wip seems to need a bit more time to marinate, and here you are with perfect timing.
So let’s see what I can do with this concept.
If it wasn’t obvious: smut ahead. Written with fem / afab reader in mind but I think this could be read gender neutral as well since the only specific body detail mentioned is that reader has hair long enough for Jamil to grab.
The day - and the week, and the month - had been such a whirlwind that even Jamil had had trouble keeping up with it all.
Tonight, Jamil had basked in the praises from his dormmates, their congratulations and glowing words - and noted the cautious looks of those who still had not forgotten the events of his overblot.
He had enjoyed food that was not made by him, watched others fuss over the preparations and the serving - well, as much as he had been able to keep himself from giving direction. Still, even he had not been able to oversee every single detail, as much as he wanted to.
After all, both you and Kalim had been quite insistent, in your own ways, that this celebration should be for him, not by him.
So Jamil had danced, eaten, drank, listened, talked, so much so that now when the night was beginning to turn towards morning, he had more than had his fill.
Besides, tired as he may be of the crowd, there was still something on his agenda that he was more than happy to indulge in.
You had been teasing him with promises of a more private celebration - starting from when the party was decided on all the way to when you had been dancing together earlier - and Jamil intended to finally collect his reward.
You were outside for a moment of fresh air and quiet when Jamil found you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nipping your ear.
“I remember someone promising to be mine tonight,” he murmured, voice low and husky.
You shivered, feeling Jamil’s lips on your neck. You’d half expected him to be too tired to turn your teasing into action. Yet, you certainly welcomed this turn of events, your own tiredness washed away by Jamil’s eager touch and his tempting whispers.
“You know me. Always love - ahhh - spoiling you,” you said - your words turning into a gasp when Jamil licked the side of your neck.
In no time at all you found yourself in Jamil’s room - as easy as it was to be distracted by each other, you both still preferred the privacy over lingering in the common areas of the dorm.
Jamil’s mouth was hungry on yours, his hands working quickly to rid you of your clothes.
Sometimes you wondered just how much Jamil was holding back in the presence of others, for him to get so ravenous as soon as you two were alone.
Not that you were any different, pulling away that long belt from Jamil’s hips so that you could slip your hands under his shirt, your lips covering every available bit of his skin with kisses.
It was always delicious, your naked bodies tangled together. That heady feeling of each other, both of you grasping and kissing wherever you could, like you could never quite feel enough of the other.
“So what would mister housewarden ask of me tonight?” you asked with a playful grin, nuzzling your nose against Jamil’s.
There was undeniable hunger in the way Jamil looked at you, yet also the warmth and softness of your lover that always filled your heart to the brim.
“Just all of you, albi,” Jamil murmured, pushing you down onto the mattress.
You’d entertained ideas of a celebratory blowjob, of taking care of Jamil tonight. But if he’d rather help himself to you, you were certainly not going to say no.
A few orgasms later and Jamil was pounding into you, firmly holding onto your hips while your face was pressed onto the sheets. His cock was invading your insides so hard, so deep, leaving you nearly senseless. You jolted helplessly every time Jamil slammed his way all the way in, the pleasure bordering on pain as it shot through your nerves.
“Ahhh, Jamil…” you whimpered, barely aware of the spot of drool you’d left on the bed.
“Too much?” Jamil muttered, one of his hands leaving your side to instead trail a soothing path along your spine.
“...No.”
It was a lot, your senses nearly overtaken by the intensity of it all - yet you didn’t want anything less.
Still, you couldn’t help squirming, your body twitching with every thrust, yelps and moans pushed from your throat no matter how much you tried to hold them in.
“Hold still,” Jamil grunted. 
He gathered your hair in his hand, making you gasp when he tugged. You could feel the pull on your scalp, almost like Jamil wanted to rein you in - or pull your face away from the sheets so that he could hear your cries more clearly.
“You’re all mine tonight, aren’t you? Mine to have, mine to enjoy,” Jamil breathed to your ear.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you whined, aroused beyond belief.
Always his, just as he is yours - but you had no time to vocalize that thought before Jamil’s weight pushed you prone on the bed.
Your gasp was cut short, turned into a sharp cry when you felt moist pressure at the back of your neck - a bite, you realized, some instinct telling you to keep still.
Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. Jamil’s hand, still gripping your hair. His mouth, latched onto your skin. His body, holding you down.
The weight of him against your back was almost suffocating, yet in a delicious way. Like you could be closer to him like this, more connected than just skin to skin contact - or penetration - could provide.
You could feel the rolling of Jamil’s hips against your backside, the way his cock was dragging along your insides. Not as harshly as before, yet intense enough to keep you trembling and whining with the little breath you could take.
And Jamil’s mouth, his teeth, never letting go. His muffled groans such a delicious sound, making you clench around him.
Such sweet torture, and you never wanted it to end.
Taglist since this turned into fic: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @perilous-pasta @twstgo @cannedpickledpeaches
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We (actually, I am) are glad to present a blog dedicated to marauders era girls ships (finally!!) 
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FAQ’s:
Which ship is this blog for?
You can write for any marauders era girls ships you wish to for; popular ones, rare pairs, literally any of the girls ships! (dorlene, marylily, marylene, pandalily, dorlily, emmary, lilylene nobleflower, quillkiller etc… any ship you like)
Can I write for…?
Yesss!! Do it!
When will new prompts be updated?
New prompts will be updated on the 1st of every month!
Do I have to write all of the prompts?
Definitely not. Write only one in a month. Skip several months and come back. Write every other prompt. Write the ones that inspire you. Write all of them. Whatever you want to do. 
Do I need to write the prompts in order?
Nope! Write them in any order. You can write the 29th prompt first and then write the 1st prompt, it’s up to you.
Can I submit a prompt?
Ofcourse! Send us an ask or dm.
Is it okay if my fic is a little longer?
Ofcourse!, it’s alright though we would like it if you write a ‘microfic’ but it's still alright if it’s not.
How long will it take for my microfic to be reblogged?
It will be reblogged in 24 hours - taken all rules are followed 
If my fic isn’t reblogged in 24 hours?
Might happen sometimes. Kindly send us an ask or a dm and we’ll look into it and reblog the fic asap! 
Can i write a throuple (romantic) which contains a male character?
Sure! As long as you represent the w/w ship it’s kind of alright. To say, I personally really like Narcissa x Alice x Frank. So if you too have a ship, dynamic, friendship you want to show, go on! Do it! We’d love to read it!.
Can i write a platonic ship? 
Sure you can! You want to show two characters' friendship? Do it!. You want to write about the group's friendship? Do it!
Can i write nsfw?
You can!. But please tag it properly!
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Basic Rules:
Must be about a w/w ship, it can be any. (though it can still be a romantic throuple including a male character, as answered in faq)
Try to keep it short. Though it’s either way alright we will segregate it ourselves. So it’s no problem if you flew with the flow ;)
 Must be tagged appropriately. 
Add tw’s, cw’s and nsfw warning if any.
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General things, you’d like to know:
We are trying to build a community, so:
-If you are an artist who makes marauders era girls ships art and would like to reach people, who are interested. Don’t hesitate to tag us.
-If you are an Ao3 writer and want your fic to be prompted. Don’t hesitate to tag us. Though the main pair of the fic should be a w/w ship. Also it’s alright if you have a m/m, m/f ship as a side pair. (you wrote marylene and it has jily and wolfstar too. you can still tag us!)
The fics would go in our masterlist/ recs list. (which will help people to easily navigate and read for the ships they want to)
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Kindly DM us, if you can think of something that should be added here. We're always up for suggestions :)
Thank you!
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months
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oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.
if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!
—Sole Survivor
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞
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When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble. 
He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all. 
Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you. 
Alive.
It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.
And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did. 
“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face. 
“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with. 
You know your family loved you. 
“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath. 
“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.” 
“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!” 
“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.” 
You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation. 
“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly. 
“What, then?”
“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”
He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.
You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened. 
“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious. 
“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk. 
“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”
You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly. 
“It’s a compliment.”
“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.
“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.
“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”
It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her. 
He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon. 
“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”
Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.
“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of. 
Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other. 
There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks. 
You wave enthusiastically back. 
“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”
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yujeong · 1 month
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I saw ur post about wanting writing prompts so I thought why not lol. (This is my first time doing this 😅) but I have a few of AUs on my art blog that I would love to see expanded on like my Tall Pete/Short Vegas au, A band au with Vegas being a lead singer and Pete falling in love at first sight, or Pete being Vegas’ personal bodyguard instead of Tankhun’s. So yea if u find any of these interesting I’d love to see ur spin on it
OMG hi! Thank you so much for sending me this, I'm so flattered you thought of asking me to write sth surrounding your AUs ❤️ It kind of feels like the secret Santa event all over again, I love it haha. The timing is actually a little too perfect, because a few weeks ago, I randomly stumbled upon a YouTube short about the side couple in Laws of Attraction and I proceeded to 1. lose my shit, so much so that I decided to start watching the show and 2. write a whole page full of notes about an AU in which Pete is Vegas' bodyguard, based on the pool scene of said short. So, to give a little context: In this alternative universe, Vegas and Gun visit the main family compound for a meeting. At some point, Korn wants to talk to Gun alone, so Vegas goes to the pool area to find Porsche, along with Pete who follows him. Vegas proceeds to flirt with Porsche, as Vegas does, up until Gun suddenly appears and starts yelling at him for unclear reasons. He escalates it when Vegas asks, baffled, why he's being yelled at, by slapping him and putting his head into the pool. Pete normally doesn't intervene when Gun gets violent with Vegas, but his protective instincts here kick in and he stops Gun from literally attempting to kill his own son. As a result, Gun's anger gets redirected at Pete, who gets beaten up in Vegas' stead. The snippet I wrote for you is the aftermath of everything I described above. I hope you like it ❤️ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Silence, occasionally broken by a faint sound that resembled sniffing. Pete couldn’t tell what it was, but in his state he couldn’t really tell where he was either, so he stopped worrying about it. He tried, instead, to remember what had happened that brought him here, wherever “here” was. The last thing he recalled was the feeling of Khun Gun’s shoes digging into his forearms, which he used in his attempt to protect his head from his boss’ repeated, brutal kicks. Khun Gun wasn’t the strongest man Pete had ever met, but there were reasons he always tried to stay on his good side, and his cruelty was one of them. The cruelty that had so many times been directed at his own son. The kind he was eerily familiar with.
Khun Vegas’ face materialized in Pete’s mind. Droplets of water running down his nose, his sharp cheekbones, reaching his neck. His hair wet and disheveled, his chest heaving from the difficulty to breathe after having had his head shoved into the pool. His expression crumbling with worry, something Pete had no logical way of explaining. Fuck, where was he? Pete could only hope Porsche had protected him from his father’s fury afterwards. Khun Gun was unpredictable; he couldn't be trusted to only be satisfied by lashing out at Pete. Pete needed to go find him as soon as possible. Opening his eyes proved to be a challenge. A heavy fog was clouding his vision, and the pain that was engulfing his whole body was preventing him from doing the simplest of movements. He groaned as he shifted his torso in a futile attempt to get up, resulting in a gasp that startled him into opening his eyes to check where it came from. His mouth was hanging open as he took in the image of Khun Vegas staring at him, fidgeting nervously in the chair he was sitting on. His eyes were red around the corners and he looked ghostly pale. Pete’s breath hitched. “Pete… ?” he said, dropping his gaze to the floor. He always did that when he was feeling guilty about something. “Are you... ?” “I’m fine, Khun Vegas,” Pete replied, despite the numbness in his limbs and the headache that was starting to form. “What about you? Are you hurt? Should I take you to the doct-” “We’re at the infirmary, you idiot,” Vegas shouted, interrupting him, but his voice lacked the usual heat. “Stop acting like my bodyguard right now, it pisses me off.” That’s all I know how to be, Pete wanted to tell him, but remained silent. That’s all I’m allowed. He didn’t really mind Khun Vegas’ words. He’d heard worse things over the years, things that should have probably hurt him. Somehow, Pete had the ability to forgive him anything. The atmosphere grew tense between them. Pete had grown used to that, too, but he had never seen Khun Vegas be so self conscious before. He wondered why the sudden change. “I’m not thanking you,” Pete heard him murmur after a few seconds; he uttered the words under his breath, while staring at his feet. If Pete had a better view of his face, he’d argue Khun Vegas was pouting. Pete could only reassure him. “You don’t have to, Khun Vegas. I was simply doing my job.” It had the opposite effect. The creases between his eyebrows deepened as he lifted his head and stared at Pete. Astonished as his mouth was open agape, likely for a retort that never came. Alternatively, he turned his attention to the small table next to Pete’s bed. He stood up and approached it hastily, grabbing something that was resting on top of it, before Pete could take a closer look. “The nurse said you have to take this,” he said and extended his arm at Pete, revealing a small pill. It was probably a standard type of painkiller. Bodyguards never got any special medical treatment, especially those working for the minor family. It wasn’t worth the trouble. Pete tried to lift his hand to take it, but he bitterly realized it was impossible. He winced as he took a look at both of his arms and found them bandaged, smears of purple popping at places his skin was uncovered. He cursed under his breath. “Ah, I’m sorry, Khun Vegas, I’ll just call the-” Cold fingertips pressed on Pete’s chin. They felt even colder on his lips, the pressure just enough to make him open his mouth. The pill slipped between his teeth easily, with the help of a wet tongue he'd never thought he'd get to taste. Hot air hit Pete’s cheeks. His heart was beating rapidly. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Water traveled down his throat, taking the pill with it. Pete blinked. His head felt light, his body even lighter. He didn’t know how to describe the feeling, but he didn’t think it was bad. He focused, instead, on Vegas, who was standing above him with an unusual sense of confidence.  “Get well soon. That’s an order.” It was enough to ground Pete back into reality. He was thankful for it.
“Yes, Khun Vegas.” It was only then that Pete noticed how the color returned on Vegas’ face and how his slight trembling seized. “Has Pete woken up yet?” Both of them jumped at the sound of Porsche’s voice. He poked his head into the room, completely oblivious to what had transpired before he showed up. “Oh, he has. How are you feeling?” “Good,” he replied sincerely. The pain didn’t bother him anymore.  A smile spread on his lips as he added, “Khun Vegas just gave me my medicine.” Porsche returned it, though his was more mischievous than playful. “Pete, you should have seen Vegas while he waited for you to wake up. I’ve never seen him crying so hard-” Vegas punched Porsche hard on the shoulder to stop him from talking, which made loud laughter escape Pete’s mouth. It earned him a glare, one of Vegas' serious ones. It'd bring him hell later, but Pete realized he was fine with that.
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theflyingfeeling · 6 months
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fanfic rambling in the tags, nothing interesting really, just me talking to myself lol, okay to ignore or read as you please ✨
#so i've found the perfect prompt list for an olli/allu fic advent calendar sorta thing#but i'm too intimidated by my own expectations and ridiculously high standards to even start writing any of them 😭#honestly these prompts are so insanely cute and fit olli/allu PERFECTLY#like. i'm actually having trouble deciding which ones to use because i want to write them all 🥺💞#but i'm so so scared that i'll just end up writing the same (boring) story over again for 24 times 😔#i wish i could just write without thinking and trying so hard to write a literary masterpiece#when i KNOW it's alright if it's just a silly little story about my blorbos#that's perfectly enough and i know this but my brain's just not having it 😩#also if i were to write 24 independent fics i'd have to keep them short and simple but. that's not how i do fics. unfortunately (for me)#to overcome this i guess one option would be to write just one longer piece with 24 chapters#and somehow try to include the prompt of the day in each chapter 🤔#but i don't want to make this even more complicated to myself lol especially because i'm planning to write AUs for a couple of the prompts#i REALLY want to do prompts (of any kind!!) but i'm just so scared of stressing myself out to another months-long writer's block 😭#fair enough the last time that happened (last winter/spring) i was in a shitty place mentally anyway#and so far i've been happy to be writing on random bursts of inspiration. that's how it's the easiest for me. the words just...flow out#i'm so insanely jealous of anyone who can just create stuff when given any prompt 😭#y'all are super humans to me how do you do it pls spill your secrets#and anyone tempted to comfort me by saying i shouldn't stress myself over this and that i don't have to write anything i don't wanna write:#i knoooooowwww and i appreactiate the sentiment but the thing is i actually DO want to write these prompts 😭#in theory at least. because they really are cute as fuck wth 🥺#the problem is that i can't /force/ myself to write something at the snap of my fingers without a clear idea besides the prompt#and also because i know it can take me days to finish even one story let alone 24 💀#so to even START on this project is a little intimidating 🫣#i just fear i won't have the patience :(#and when i realise i won't be able to finish the project i'll become frustrated with myself#if only i knew how to write shorter one-scenes in order to not tire myself out#but often i find those kind of fics somehow...unsatisfying :(#i'm just a sucker for crafting the context/background for stories. a little flesh around the bones if you will 🤧#okay that's all now i'm gonna go stare at a wall while doing nothing useful for the rest of the weekend byeeee#if you read this far i hope you're having a nice saturday
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autistic-shaiapouf · 9 months
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Okay actually following what I said earlier I see that anyone who writes about this man is performing a service to the community
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*slams head on the table* I’m so tired of having a million ideas and never finishing them, how do I get over this curse, I feel if I don’t finish a fic soon I’m gonna explode >:(
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starwrighter · 7 months
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1/?? Halloween prompt
I’ve got brain rot for creepy Deadserious content but only when it’s only seen as creepy by outsiders. (I know I’m writing a fic with a similar plot but it’s different I swear! Also my grammar is shit because I’m getting dental work done tomorrow and I’m nervous) Tw for stalker behavior
So Damian has a crush on Danny and immediately goes about acting on these feelings much to onlookers horror. Danny is swooning because someone made the effort to do a background check on him. Danny thinks Damian doing this is really smart because, he could be a serial killer for ancients sake why would you risk that? Others say this is a horrible invasion of privacy.
Damian not realizing he's being creepy (being liminal and being an ex assassin, turned vigilante wasn't doing him any favors) Plus Danny also not realizing it's creepy unless you relay Damian behavior towards him with different names.
Damian's just being a textbook stalker, breaking into his house and shit and Danny's all like "awwww he likes me" because this is just normal ghostly courting rituals! His dormroom isn't his lair so Damian breaking in doesn't feel like he's violating any sort of boundary. To him it's like a friend showing up at the coffee shop you work at to say hi.
Danny's had stalkers before, he's very cautious of his behavior to insure he never stalked anyone. Being stalked back in Amity was a horrific experience for him. From cameras in the locker rooms at school (wes) to cameras in his bathroom and bedroom at home (Vlad)! He couldn't feel safe anywhere! To Danny Damian's not a stalker, he's his protector. Nobody seems to understand when he tries to explain this though they just look at him like he's lost his mind.
Damian’s not subtle at all and Danny’s kicking his feet like a lovesick school girl who found out her crush likes her back. Overall it’s super cute from their points of view Damian’s planning an official confession to ask him on a date while Danny’s trying to figure out if Damian actually likes him or is just being nice. They’re just doing normal couple things but people just jump and attack Damian’s character while painting Danny as some kind of brainwashed victim.
The thing is… Danny’s become very good at appearing normal while Damian refuses to pretend to be a bumbling idiot like the rest of his family. He also refuses to dull down his personality for anything other than secret identity reasons. For these reasons since their relationship had become public, Damian had been painted by the media as a creepy possessive boyfriend who threatened Danny into a relationship. This infuriates Danny, the only one doing any kind of possession is him god damn it!
They want to be around each other all the time and that’s normal behavior for ghost/liminal couples! They live much longer than regular humans do they’re like elves, their perceptions of time are messed up. They still spend time apart they still have hobbies and an independent life, people just get hung up on the amount of time they do spend together. It’s normal behavior for them to know mountains of information about each others interests to the point they almost know more than each other. It’s normal to know each other’s schedules and background check the people they associate with. (The realms are very dangerous with shapeshifters and manipulators like spectra and Desiree who can ruin your afterlife in a matter of minutes) Their relationship is creepy to those who haven’t gone to extremes to survive.
Damian has taken to ignoring the reputation press has given him. He’s dealt with paparazzi and tabloids before it’s just frustrating to deal with. It’s when people start accusing him of hurting his beloved that really pisses him off.
(Bonus if Danny’s the one frothing at the mouth to maul a reporter while they try to paint him as a poor innocent victim)
I’mma end the prompt with this so everyone understands why Damian specifically being targeted by press. The more liminal you are the more creepy/uncanny you appear to other people and the more effort you have to put in to hide it. It’s why the bats are more believed to be Eldritch creatures than actual humans in suits. Surprisingly becoming a Halfa completely changes this effect to do the complete opposite. It’s easier for the human brain to look at a halfa and think “Innocent or normal,” Vlad and Danny were morons when it came to actually hiding their identity’s it was only their statuses as halfa’s that prevented people from comprehending them being anything other than normal.
In short Damian’s too dead to be perceived as normal while Danny’s too alive to be perceived as anything other than normal.
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blkkizzat · 6 months
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ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls
Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol) WC: 4k of 10.4k Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.
A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.
Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!
Enjoy!
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“In the next 500ft, turn left.”
This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere. 
You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy. 
One measly bar. 
The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well. 
Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.
Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.
Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts. 
Sigh. 
You had never wanted to be That Girl™. 
You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating. 
But you were a woman at the end of her rope.
What else could you do?
For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear. 
The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.  
Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details. 
For your own safety.
He would say with an arrogant smirk.
But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.  
That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.
Truly, you were already like a little family.
Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that. 
But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.
Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).
You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted. 
You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.
You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you. 
A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking. 
Did he need a break from you too as well?
You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out. 
So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.
Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts. 
You initially balked at her.
Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.
Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.
True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi. 
He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.
You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question: 
What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust? 
And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?
Touché. 
Tsukumo had you there.
“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?” 
Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.
“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”
Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something. 
“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”
Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.
You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.
Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.
You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night. 
Almost there.
You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.
However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.
You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area. 
Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back. 
Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.
Goddamn it, Toji. 
“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.”                                                                                                                                  Toji’s voice rang in your mind. 
Well the big lunk he was wrong.
You had driven at least 33 miles so far.
You mentally cussed him again. 
Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.  
You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass. 
Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.
Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.
Option 1: Call AAA
You had zero bars though. 
Fuck. 
Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.
You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.
If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.
He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.
Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.
Really the only viable option you had. 
It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.
Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home. 
And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.
Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym. 
You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts. 
You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries. 
Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.
Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.
You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you. 
The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.
Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward. 
The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders. 
“Fuck you, Toji.” 
You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.
You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now. 
You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him. 
You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner. 
Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.
There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls. 
Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.
The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.
You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way. 
You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.
The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward. 
You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.
You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough. 
Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.
As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance. 
Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.
Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.
A pack of wolves. 
Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.
You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws. 
Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.
With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses. 
Then you hear it.
From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before. 
The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.
Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…
...something terrifyingly unhuman.
The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving. 
You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.
The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.
You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase. 
The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.
Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward. 
Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.
Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support. 
You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you. 
The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air. 
Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.
Was this it?
Was this how you died?
You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way. 
You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea. 
But ultimately this was all your fault. 
You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.
You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi. 
Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs. 
The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.
However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.
Wait– T-The hell?!
You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.
The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body. 
Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.
From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.
The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles. 
Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber. 
Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.
What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being– 
Toji?!
As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete. 
Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.
He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.
The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.
He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.
Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.
Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?
Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity. 
His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force. 
“T-T-Toji?” 
You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs. 
“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?” 
Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear. 
Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.
He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations. 
It was safer that way, for all of you.
You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.
But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.
Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now. 
Not with you needing protection from him too.
Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon. 
The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.
He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.
Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you? 
You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter. 
He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut. 
“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!” 
Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.
Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.
You looked so appetizing. 
He needed you.
However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.
“Y-Y/N…” 
His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.
Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure. 
You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.
“Just calm down. It’s OK.”
Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you. 
There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.
Good girl. 
It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.
But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place. 
The pressure had officially gotten to you. 
Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.
You snapped. 
“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”
You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.
The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.
“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”
A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.
Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well. 
His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.
He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.
Things never happened the easy way with you.
Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.
A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.
“Run.”
P2 HERE!
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
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A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!
Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!
I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.
Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!
ღTaglistღ:
@callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @briefrebelfanalmond @nikkitc0703 & @dancingwithdeities (prone bone coming in p2 just for u sweets!) LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2. For all kizzatober fic tags comment on m.list.
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luvrxbunny · 7 months
Text
black oak
Pairing: Perv?BSF!Eddie Munson x Innocent!Fem!Reader 
Prompt: Voyeurism
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smoking (weed ofc),m! masturbation, f! masturbation, pillow humping, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 1.6k
A/N: im cutting it so close w these fics (i made this literally yesterday)
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This started happening more recently now that you’re hanging out with Eddie more. You hang out with him after school and he walks you home, but whenever he leaves there's a consuming heat between your legs. It’s more tame when you’re with him, like a subtle hum in the back of your mind but once he leaves you; your mind hyper-fixates on him. 
You’re trying to sleep but Eddie is in your head. You writhe around in your bed as you think about everything he is; brave, kind, caring, and sweet. You think about his hands, his hair, his rings, and his voice. You wiggle around in bed until your pillow makes its way between your thighs. Your hips stutter against it and you freeze, looking around the room as if someone may be watching you before letting yourself succumb to the pleasure of the fabric against your slit.
You tighten your thighs around the pillow, tilting your hips up to press your most sensitive spot against the pillow. You mutter timid curses under your breath, hugging your teddy bear to your chest with your eyes shut tight as you picture his face reluctantly. You always feel so dirty picturing him like this, thinking of him in this way. You can’t help but replay all the times you’ve seen him lick his lips, his pink, wet, tongue peeking from between them, the way he bites into the bottom one when trying to nail a certain chord. You can feel yourself getting even wetter between your legs, whining as you soak your pillow. It’s not enough. 
You whine as you push yourself into a sitting position, straddling the pillow with a curve in your back to press yourself perfectly into it. Your head falls back at the stimulation and your eyelids flutter, you slowly roll your head forward and notice your drapes and window slightly open. You consider closing them, not wanting anyone to see, to hear but you feel a certain rush in your stomach at the exposure and shyly decide to leave them be. 
Outside your window, is Eddie. He does this almost every night, this is the first time he’s seen this though. He walks you home after you hang out with him, and if the hangout has left something to be desired he simply climbs into his tree and watches you. There is this beautiful black oak tree that sits outside your window. If Eddie wanted more of you, but couldn’t hang out with you more- due to your very strict parent’s ruling- he suffered silently. He asked you if you could stay longer one time; the sad look in your eyes as you explained how upset your parents would be, broke his heart, so he never asked again. 
However, when you showed him the pretty tree beside your bedroom, right outside your bedroom window- there was only one thought in his head. So it became a routine, if he didn’t have plans, and remembered to bring a lighter with his joint. He’ll light up and just sit on his branch outside your window. He usually witnesses you doing your school work, writing in your diary, and talking with your stuffed animals. If he’s lucky you’ll change your clothes there, although the way you change actually lets him see nothing. Tonight? He can’t believe his eyes.
His joint has long gone out, still in between his fingers as the bulge grows in his pants and his eyes bulge out at you. He’s fighting an internal battle, his hands are twitching to touch himself but he feels guilty intruding on such a private moment. He’s thought about you in this way before- he tries not to but mostly just cannot help himself. You’re so sweet, so caring toward him, so loving that he can’t help but feel this way for you. When you sit on his bed in your skirt, forgetting to tuck it under your butt- your panties pressed right into his bed… he’s hard in an instant. He’s thought of you while jerking off more times than he could count but in all his creativity he could’ve never imagined himself in a scenario as lucky as this. 
He quickly puts the joint in his pocket and fumbles with his pants. He’s whining to no one as he undoes his belt. “Keep goin’, sweetheart. Ooh, so good, baby.” He shoves his hand into his underwear, quickly wrapping his fingers around his cock, pretending that it’s you. He’s already thrusting his hips into his fist as he watches you reach blindly for something to hug into your chest as your hips speed up. Eddie’s hand kicks up to match your pace and a moan rips itself from his throat. He watches you bite into your lip and your eyebrows twitch before you mutter something he wishes he could hear. 
He zeros in on your hips, the way they move over your pillow, how desperately he wishes that was him. He pulls his hand away from his cock with a groan and rubs himself through his jeans. It’s less stimulating but it lets him pretend that it’s you and that makes it feel better than his hands ever could. His eyes roll back into his head as his hands find the same rhythm as your hips and he moans your name into the night air. He’s not worried about being caught, he can only think of you. He forces his eyes open to watch as your hips begin to stutter in their pace. He lets out a pained moan, wishing he could help you keep it steady, help you cum as fast, and as hard as you could. 
You’re muttering something again, your volume climbing as you near your peak. Eddie’s legs are shaking as he holds off for you, wanting to cum at the same time. He watches you drop your teddy and place your hands on the pillow, holding it in place as you furrow your brows and grind harder, humping your pillow as your lips part into an ‘O’ shape. His stomach tenses painfully as he moans your name to no one, under his breath, just for him as he imagines you above him. The utterance of your name from his lips just brings him closer to the edge as he begins to hear a muffled translation of what your moans sound like. He shuffles himself a bit closer to your window, trying to hear as much of you as he can. He hears you saying something, a name, one he prays is his because he couldn’t handle the heartbreak of hearing someone else’s fall from your lips at a time like this. 
He thinks about what you’d sound like saying his name as a moan, a groan, or even a whine or whimper if he’s lucky. He tries to fit his name into the blurry shape of whatever sound is falling from your mouth and it fits brutally well. He has to take his hands away, thrusting up into the air blindly, eyes rolled back and shut as your noises assault his senses. He can’t believe how well his name fits in your mouth, like your lips were made to form around it. “Eddie.” He can hear it, you’d say it high and breathy, on the cusp of cumming all over him, all around him, however you want. “Ed- Eddie” His eyes snap open to watch your lips as they form over his name again, “Eddie, please!” Your voice kicks up into a whine and your hips stutter to a stop as you fold over, shaking as you cum all over your pillow. 
Eddie is painting the inside of his jeans, his hips thrusting erratically into his hand as he bites his lip so hard he’s scared he’ll take a chunk out of it. Your name and images of you are racing through his head, they do every time he cums, he just can’t help it anymore. He thinks about how you said his name, how it sounded from your lips… the fact that you’re thinking of him when you hump your pillow at night. 
A strangled groan-whimper shoves its way from his chest as his balls tighten even more, producing as much cum as they can for you. His head slams back against the tree painfully and his eyes cross as he worships you in his mind, thanking you for making him cum, for letting him touch himself for you. His eyes open back up slowly, his hand overstimulating himself gently as you slowly overstimulate yourself, rocking your hips lazily over the pillow, your thighs twitching every so often. He watches you topple over onto your bed, leaving the pillow between your legs as you reach out for a different teddy, a smile spreading over your face when you find what you’re looking for. 
He’s watching you through lidded eyes, his hips still twitching slightly. His brows furrow until he sees what you’re after, his heart swells and warms his chest. It’s a teddy bear he won for you at a fair, he’s wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses, you said he reminded you of Eddie. 
He feels that little tingle he gets in his nose he gets when he’s about to cry and he tries his best to hold back as he starts climbing out of the tree, he always turns into a sap when he cums for you. He’s always wishing you loved him the way he loves you but for the first time, these tears are more positive. He peeks up at you one more time before dropping out of the tree and he gets to see you kiss ‘little Eddie’ on his head and snuggle him to your chest. He’s starting to actually think he may have a chance with you, and it’s the best feeling in the world. 
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Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
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vivivav · 2 months
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‼️ 14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI ‼️
Are these headcanons? am i theorizing? am i analyzing his character? could these just be kinda writing prompts? god fucking knows atp
Kinda turns into just…. a Renren appreciation post at the end. Love them
- If angel is someone who talks to themselves a lot, Ren would thoroughly enjoy that and sometimes reply as if they were having a conversation, and would frequently even use it as an opportunity to practice their “haruko” persona as he replies to them
- Usually when people are on their electronics they almost never look at the little camera directly, instead focused on the screen but those rare moments where Angel actually looks into the camera, if even for a second it makes Ren breathless because it feels like angel’s looking at him.
- got this one from one of the little fics but whenever angel’s on call with someone, Ren loathes it. Because, they don’t like that angel’s paying so much attention to someone else, but on the other hand they’re close their phone. Talking to someone, laughing, making jokes and having conversation and if Ren tries really hard, they can pretend that angel’s having a conversation with him instead.
- Ren tries to time their eating schedule with Angels occasionally, unless he’s just trying to snack on something. Not JUST because they’d find it relaxing to eat with angel but because he doesn’t want to take time away from staring at angel just so they can eat, he’d prefer to train his body to get hungry when angel gets hungry so they don’t waste even a second of his time with angel
- for day 1; not inviting him over and then choosing to call/text him, you can hear them running away from (what’s presumably) angels door so angel doesn’t hear him talk/type, but they only leaves the SECOND angel calls or texts, not before. Now maybe he wasn’t expecting angel to contact him and was genuinely surprised, or, since angel was on call with Moth, (who was urging angel to talk to Ren…) they saw that angel then went on their phone and either looking at his contact or had the chat pulled up, so maybe he just didnt want to waste even a second not staring at angel. Though, maybe it was more of a mix of both
- His first meeting with angel in the library seeming so akward to angel while Rens brain is going a thousand mph. Mad that his first meeting with them wasn’t the perfect one they imagined, mad that he wasn’t prepared, scared you’ll see right through them BECAUSE he wasn’t prepared, nervous to finally be near angel and have them FINALLY talk to him, trying to come up with an excuse as to WHY he pressed the button in the first place (he did NOT read those pages nor that fucking book i am telling you now), trying to come up with any excuses to keep angel there with them for longer, how to stay with angel, to introduce himself, to hear angels voice more, restraining himself to not go completely haywire off the bat because first impressions matter SO much. Then the second you turn away and he gets eleanor out of the way they have to quickly dig in his pockets (or steal stickynotes from the library counter) to try and come up with something charming to write and have angel read to make them find him cute/approachable/not-fucked-up/your-exact-type
-ecords angels voice sometimes and tried to cut and put the clips together to spell something out for him in angels voice (momentary satisfaction but it’d never beat hearing angel actually say it) (most likely it was either their real name or “i love you” or something cheesy like that. maybe.)
- i know he’s not superstitious but the thought of them coming accross one of those posts of “These initials belong together!!” and NOT seeing his and angels initials in there making them mad is so funny lol. Bonus if he sees someone elses initials with angels (Say, A+L as in Angel and Leon). and they’d get mad and either X out everyone elses combinations and put only him and angels in it or search for one with them in it. He knows logically that it doesn’t mean anything and that it was probably just some kid making a fun video but god forbid having someone elses initials with Angels even with something silly like that
- they’d be one of those boyfriends that if angel as little as looks at something for more than a few seconds he’d ask if they’d want it, or just grab it and buy it right away, or remember it and buy it as a surprise for them later. Angel giving a quick second look at like a shirt or a toy and then continuing to walk and then the next day Ren’s giving it to them because he “thought they’d like it”. This alr kinda happens in game on day 2 but pshh they’d buy it for angel even if they didnt literally pause and stare at it for a minute and a half
- Angel forgetting a password to one of their accounts and complaining about it to Ren, who immediately tells them what it is, only for Angel to be like ??? wtf how’d you know. Or, if they weren’t completely caught up in staring at angel he’d comfort them and tell them that they’ll remember it soon. And then write it down for angel somewhere for them to find easily/ purposefully saying something that kinda sounds like it or would hopefully get angel to remember it, like. If the password was “iloveharuko13” he’d start talking about AOG with them, specifically about haruko’s last appearance
- Angel asking Ren how he’s been today when they’re catching up and him-not even thinking about what he was actually doing today just thinking about how happy they are now that angel’s here- just answering with “i’ve been good! how about you..?” very quickly because he’s eager to hear Angels thoughts. He already knows what they’ve been doing but how they FELT about it and their thoughts on it are much more interesting/important
- The reason he stares at angel so much aside from the obvious is that they’re trying with all his strength to develop mind reading powers /silly /not serious but he mightve actually at least tried this at one point no?
- Angel having a diary would be the equivalent of a bible to him. Its angels raw unfiltered thoughts written out BY them. That’s pure gold and god must’ve blessed Ren if angel decided to keep a “top secret” diary. (if angel complained about someone in said diary he’d keep an eye out for them specifically and try to limit angels interactions with them until they made up or parted ways. Or. something happened to them lol)
- idk i just wanna mention that i love their desperate attempts to just be around angel and have them see him. “Sweet boy”, i say, knowing fully well what he’s done and is capable of
- Occasional Angels cutlery thief. you know why (returns them though) (maybe)
- Him asking in their head over and over again “is this real? am i dreaming?” when angel actually invites him over to their place and what ensues because?? only in his dreams right???
- Ren was practically gritting his teeth when they said “what do you think i’ve been doing since you moved away…” at Leon, i don’t think he was angry because Leon moved (probably actually was really happy upon hearing it- maybe thinking “this is my chance! it’s my turn!”) but because the act of him moving made angel sad. It was more of a “how dare you do something that you knew would hurt angel” while secretly they were glad that Leon moved. another,, “loathe” kinda thing? Hates that angel was hurt but happy that Leon wouldn’t be as much in his way anymore?
- Purposefully sometimes leaves angels windows/doors open just so he could see them come closer to shut it. Very rare for them to do bc he doesn’t wanna make angel like,, paranoid (unless they’d be going to him for comfort and safety… but… maybe that’d only be if he’s really desperate…)
- Thinking abt if they’d ‘coincidentally’ show up on angels double date on day 4 or watch from afar. “haha how funny i didnt know you would be here… with……… them………….mind if i come with since i’m here anyway? haha? ^^” …and then him trying to pull angel away from the rest of the group (especially leon and teo ) so it can be another date with just angel and ren…? perhaps. will patiently wait to see
- I think this is alr canon but i’ll say it anyway; him learning angels favourite foods and learning exactly how to cook them. Yes, they could just order the food in through delivery like he does for himself but they want to impress angel and make it specially for them. I feel like the reason he had the pancake recipe STILL pulled up on their phone even though he was already at the very last step of cooking them was because he wanted to be absolutely certain that they were making them EXACTLY the way angel liked- trying to reference pictures for how they were cooked and plated even though he’s probably got them all memorized by heart- but he just wants to be sure.
- Ren stalks angel but in doing so he also stalks everyone close to angel, of course in completely different ways and completely different reasons but they’d nonetheless know a LOT about the people who angel surrounds themselves with; even without hacking into their belongings and finding every little thing about them (Incase he needs to use this infomation against them… or tell angel)
- ^ adding on that him watching angels friends have other friends and become friends with eachother would probably also be like,, something that makes them at least a little happy. In the way of “If they have eachother then they won’t be around angel as much ^^”
- Ren in absolute distress watching angel get sick BEFORE their meeting in the library. Wanting nothing more than to bend reality itself to make angel better and get them everything they need but knowing that they can’t do that yet. (He’d pray that angel wouldn’t notice that their waterbottle on the nightstand keeps “filling itself up”, some pain meds just “showing up” on said nightstand, the cold towel on their forehead being cold again once they woke up… uh, more… taking-care-of-sick-person-things that i’m forgetting rn…)
- Yk that funny thing you sometimes do when you look directly into the camera on your phone/laptop/ whatever youre on and you say sumn like “i know you’re watching me!!!” as a joke. Like the “fbi in my phone” joke. Yeah. imagine that.
- if angel was an artist and drew ren ( be that in secret or asking him to pose ) He’d probably act really flattered and be all smiles and secretly be running laps around his brain like there is smoke building at the top of their head. Angel, taking time out of their day to stare at Ren (or draw him from memory?) and draw him? HIM? As in. Specifically REN, not haruko??? Bonus if he WATCHES angel draw him, weither that be in secret or not, they’d see just how FOCUSED angel is and the effort they’re putting into drawing him. His heart would explode, probably. (Also if angel is staring at them? yeah. yeah.)
- Not enough people talk about how he was so puppy-eyed upset when Leon called angel “sunfish” right in front of them. Interrupting angel and everything. You could practically FEEL the “:(“ in his little “-sunfish?” and the next words out of their mouth were “-Angelfish and i-“ as if Ren was subtly CHALLENGING Leon and trying to compete with him. How dare he have a special petname just for them? As if Ren hasn’t been calling them ‘Angel’ for his whole life? Does Leon even KNOW what sunfish look like? ‘Angelfish’ is so much smarter and they’re prettier fish. It’s essentially insulting.
- When angel starts showing signs of liking Rens real personality he absolutely overthinks the hell out of it. Because, surely not?? That was just their hopeful thinking? Him hearing things, maybe??? I don’t think Ren would believe angel at first if they started showing interest in his real personality, have to convince him before they even think about it. After all, it’s his haruko persona that finally got your attention after 13 years. Surely you like that more than this freaky creepy emo guy. They’re practically opposites afterall
- Angel making any sort of comment about the future that involves Ren- be it in the next day, week or month, he’d be over the moon. You want to keep them around for that long, that you’re already planning it? Thinking about it? Including him in your daily life and schedule? It’d only further his belief that you are an angel
- Rens mumbling coming from the fact that he doesn’t socialize like at all, and is used to just saying things out loud to angel and talking to themselves. He mumbles and whispers things to himself a lot and i REALLY like that trait abt him, i do the exact same thing
- im sorry i wanna mention i really like his little angry face. Rens little furrowed brow and pout. It’s so perfect and he is NOT shy of using it every single time someone interrupts or even suggests taking angels attention. I pause and stare at them everytime he pulls that little “>:(“ face i adore it sm i love the art in this game.
- Already canon but this mans love for matching with Angel in any way is so fun. If you choose to dress in a “comfy” way they get all happy and like almost celebrate it. “Yes!! i knew you liked softer clothes! I was so right picking this outfit this will surely impress them and have their attention on me!”, in the same breath, if you choose to dress “alternatively”, Ren thinks you look very pretty but then they’re a little pouty that angel’s not matching with him, he specifically chose this outfit for angel and didn’t think they’d be wrong since he knows angel so well
holy god i did NOT just write that much… it just turned into rambling oops. i needa replay again and write more haha here i go
rlly hope i’m not just like horribly wrong about everything lol i CANNOT survive a “he would not fucking say that !!!”
thank you sai for creating Ren and showing him to the world with the rest o’ the crew. They are all so very dear to me 💗
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jobean12-blog · 15 days
Text
In the Middle of Somewhere
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Word Count: 1,003
Summary: You and Joel are searching for shelter for the night and come across something unexpected.
Author's Note: A few friends have shared the list of 'Reverse Trope Writing Prompts" and I couldn't get over a few of them, especially the "too many beds," one. Thought this would work well with Joel in this setting. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics 🥰thank you! I'll share the list below the cut at the end of the fic.
Warnings: it's fluffy floof and Joel is soft
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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The forest seems to holds it’s breath as dusk falls, the rustling leaves and singing birds hushing to a soft murmur. You cling to the fabric of Joel’s flannel, pressed close to his back as he walks cautiously over the dense underbrush.
“How great would it be if we found a treehouse?” you say, trying to keep your voice light even as your eyes dart through the impending darkness.
The trees cast elongated shadows along the ground, their bright green leaves blackening against the deepening purple of the sky.
“I just hope we find somethin’ before the rain,” Joel mutters.
The air is thick with the promise of an oncoming storm and every now and then the distant rumble of thunder echoes through the woods.
You shiver and he stops, turning to look at you with a softness in his eyes.
“Are you cold?”
You swallow hard, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in the safety and warmth of his arms but instead you shake your head no and give him your best reassuring smile.
He studies you, his eyes narrowing and his jaw working hard with the grind of his teeth.
“We’ll find somethin’ soon darlin’.”
After walking for another mile or so you spot a clearing up ahead and you can just make out the outline of several small structures.
“Are those….,” you start, clutching his bicep tighter, “cabins?”
He stops and nudges you behind him.
“Wait here. I’m goin’ to get a closer look.”
“Joel…”
“If anything goes wrong you run.”
Your fingers dig into his arm.
“Darlin’,” he pleads.
He reaches around to run his large hand across your lower back, checking for the gun he gave you.
“Promise me,” he whispers.
“Ok,” you answer after a moment of silence.
He stares for longer than necessary and just as he starts to turn away you grab his face in your hands and softly kiss the corner of his mouth. His eyes are closed with you pull away and when they open again you whisper, “be careful.”
With a nod he quietly moves away from you, motioning to a nearby tree. You move out of sight, your eyes tracking his movement from behind the large trunk as he slowly approaches the cabins.
After what feels like an eternity you see him emerge from the third and last cabin, his steps quick and sure as he walks back to you.
“It’s all clear,” he explains with a relieved exhale. “Let’s take the middle one.”
He takes your hand in his and leads you up the old and worn wooden stairs, glancing around one last time before pushing the door open to reveal an open space with high ceilings and four sets of bunk beds.
“What the…” you trail off, staring unblinking at all the beds.
“Probably a sleepaway camp,” he says with a small sideways smile. “We got lucky.”
You drop your bag to the floor and look around, trying to decide which bed to take and finally picking the top bed of the bunk in the far corner. You step onto the ladder to try it out.
Sturdy.
You throw him a smile and climb up to the top.
“I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before,” you admit.
He’s quiet before replying, “actually, me either.”
Once you’ve had a quick meal you hear the first drop of rain, the rhythm quickly becoming relentless against the wooden roof. Outside, the darkness is dense, the thick rain clouds obscuring almost all the starlight and moon glow.
Lying in bed sleep eludes you as your mind remains alert despite the hour. Each flash of lightning briefly illuminates the cabin, casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls before fading back into darkness.
You toss and turn on the hard wood, searching for comfort.
“Can’t sleep?” Joel asks from the other side of the room.
“No,” you answer softly. “Sorry if I’m keeping you up.”
When he doesn’t answer you let out a quiet sigh and curl your arms around yourself.
The sound of wood creaking makes you sit up with a gasp but when you realize it’s only Joel climbing the ladder you let out a rush of air.
“You could have said you were coming up here,” you tease.
“I’m coming up,” he counters, and even though you can’t see his face you can hear the mirth in his tone.
Your only reply is a light chuckle as you shift over to the far side of the small bed and he climbs in, lying on his side to face you.
“What was wrong with your bed?” you ask.
His hand reaches out across the darkness and closes around your fingers.
“You weren’t in it.”
The palm of your free hand presses to his chest before your fingers curl into his shirt. He tugs you closer, circling one arm around you while the other rests between your bodies, your fingers still entwined with his. When your knee nudges against his he hitches his thigh over yours, surrounding you in exactly what you need.
You nuzzle your face into his neck with a soft inhale then press a delicate kiss just under his jaw. He exhales your name and dips his head to find your lips, capturing them gently at first.
The rain has begun to dissipate and a steady breeze carries the clouds from the sky, revealing the bright moon. It’s light filters through the opaque glass windows, highlighting the features of his face.
At his tentative expression you slowly brush your thumb across his lips, smiling when he kisses the pad of your finger. Your touch continues, tracing his scruffy jaw before taking his face in your hand and bringing his mouth closer.
He presses another gentle kiss to your lips and slides his hand along your waist, tucking you into the curve of his body. A whimper leaves your throat and he groans at the sound, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss and press you harder against him.
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@hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @lizette50
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blitzyn · 5 months
Text
relax
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alhaitham x m!reader
Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo
a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠。⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠。⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much
wc -> 3.6k
cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read
merry christmas and happy holidays!!
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To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.
First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.
And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.
You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.
Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.
Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.
"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."
He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.
"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."
"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."
"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."
He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."
You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.
"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."
But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."
"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.
Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."
He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.
"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.
"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.
"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."
He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.
You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.
You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.
He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.
It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.
Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.
"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."
"But that doesn't—"
He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"
He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."
"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.
"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."
You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.
"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.
"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"
You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.
Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.
He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.
He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.
"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."
You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.
Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.
You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.
"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?
Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.
You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.
“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.
“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.
You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”
“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.
You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.
He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.
Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.
“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”
“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.
“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.
“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.
“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.
“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.
“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.
You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.
“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”
As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.
"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.
"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.
"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."
You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.
"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."
He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.
The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.
"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.
"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.
His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."
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fairyhaos · 7 months
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How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos
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[masterlist]
this post details:
STARTING A STORY
PACING A STORY
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hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^
okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!
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#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.
.. bullet point one : have an idea
the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.
whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?
(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)
.. bullet point two : practice
okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?
it’s all to do with practice.
it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.
an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.
[chan + swingset] — one-liner example
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[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example 
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but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.
.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)
maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.” 
and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?
just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.
because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.
making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.
even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use. 
whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.
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#2 - PACING A STORY.
.. bullet point one : adding things
pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,
finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.
if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.
example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)
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by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.
if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.
and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.
.. bullet point two : delete
not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.
with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.
it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-
then the penny drops.
people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.
but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).
it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.
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... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)
tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^
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