#why why WHY do you need people to think you made this one piece
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after hours (jwy) | one shot.
—summary: an invitation to wooyoung’s event leads to the unexpected— a night of revelation that deeply blurs the lines between harmless fun and the thrill of exploring something more.
—pairing: dj!wooyoung x f!reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) fwb to lovers | smut, fluff
—word count: 5k
—content/warnings: cussing/mature language, dj wooyo playing his first club event!, songs in wooyoung’s setlist can get pretty explicit so pls proceed with caution, throwing some ass back at the club lol, alcohol consumption and intoxication, hella chemistry between these two, friends with benefits but with lots of feelings lol, oc x woo are in denial tho hehe, lots of teasing and flirting, kisses, making out, praising, marking, pet names (baby, babygirl, love), unprotected sex, oral (f. & m. receiving), hand job, woo gets slightly rough, nipple play, missionary, doggy, sorry if i missed anything!!
—a/n: this piece came super randomly, but i was inspired by needs x tinashe / after hours x kehlani and needed to whip this baby out ASAP. enjoy!!
💿 wooyoung's setlist 💿
“Thank you.” You sweetly smile at the security guard at the door, brushing your way past the hefty line that ran down the block with your bestfriend, Yeosang. The club is already incredibly packed from wall to wall, the music’s vibrations felt at the base of your feet. For a minute, you didn’t actually think you’d make it inside in time. The security guard at the door wasn’t taking your sweet smiles, frowning as you bat your eyelashes in hopes of letting you skip the line simply because you knew the DJ. He definitely didn’t believe you, nor was he trying to give you the time of day. You didn’t let up though, and as if on cue, he received confirmation from the team inside that you and Yeosang were a part of the DJ’s crew.
Thank god.
Because that line was not it.
“It’s so fucking loud in here!” Yeosang yells as he turns back to look at you amidst the crowd chaos.
“We’re almost there!” You squeeze his hand as he platonically holds onto yours, leading you to the front of the crowd and up to the DJ booth.
“Never invite me out again if you just plan on seeing your boyfriend or whatever.”
“Not my boyfriend.”
“Yeah, whatever. Close enough.” You laugh when you finally approach the steps up to the stage, the security guard letting you slip through with Yeosang right at your hip. Heading up to the stage, you greet your friends Mingi, San and Yunho as they dance around with a few other familiar faces and sip on their drinks. Wooyoung is the main DJ for tonight’s event, and he’s having the time of his life— doing what he loves to do, with the people he loves most around him. The crowd is feeding into his energy as he smoothly transitions into the next song, dancing and singing along before finally breaking contact from his mixer and glancing over at you.
“Woo!”
“Whattup! You made it.” He smiles, bringing you flush against him for a hug and a chaste kiss to the temple. You blush at his attempt to subtly squeeze at your side, biting on his bottom lip before shifting his headphones enough to partially cover his ear. The thing about Wooyoung is that you adore him. You adore him because he’s been one of your good friends for some time now. You adore him because he brings you happiness, because he’s a good time. You adore him because of these unspoken feelings, that unlabeled ‘friends with benefits but everyone knows you two are feeling each other so why hide’ kinda thing. You haven’t done much besides innocently flirt around, make out a few times, dance at events together, engage in a few heated conversations over the phone, full send with the thirst traps. The chemistry is well and alive; you suppose by now you and Wooyoung would’ve figured things out since it was too obvious to your friends already, but the both of you seem to brush it off, still shying away from it— afraid of ruining the dynamic that’s already there with said label. Something that started off so fun, so innocent, ended up digging a little space in your heart, making you feel things you shouldn’t for your ‘lil past-time.
But, Wooyoung would move mountains for you, just so you know. He’s dying to make this different. Different from the others, different from anything he’s ever dealt with. Because you are different, and he’ll show you every chance he gets.
“Aw, look at you supporting Woo at his event.” Yunho pinches your cheek, his own painted with a red tint from the alcohol he’s been downing.
“Of course. He was so excited about it, ever since he started planning it out and everything.”
“You guys make things so complicated for no reason.” Yunho laughs. “Despite the friends with benefits bullshit, you know we can tell you two actually have feelings for each other, right?”
“Wow, I didn’t know I came to the club to be lectured by Jeong Yunho.” You laugh, gently pinching at his arm. “We don’t like each other. That’s all we are.” He rolls his eyes.
“Continue to convince yourself if that’s easiest, Y/N. Just want you two to be happy.” You lick your lips, jolting at the sudden roar that comes from the crowd when Woo transitions into another hype, upbeat song.
“Aye, can we get some shots, please? Gotta take one with Yeo and the pretty ‘lil thing right there.” He signals by making a glass-shape with his hand, tilting it back a few times until the bartender off to the side throws him a thumbs up. He looks at you with a smirk, quickly winking before he’s grabbing the mic and hyping the crowd up some more.
The shots turn into two, three, five maybe, before the world is spinning a little more than usual; off-balance and vision slightly blurry. You’re still coherent, and you’re still able to make sense of your surroundings. But the one thing you do find yourself struggling with is how good Wooyoung looks at the table. You try to brush it off, dancing around with your friends and loudly singing along to the songs that blast through the speakers.
“Having fun?” Wooyoung sets the headphones off to the side and steps back from the table to enjoy some company for a bit.
“Yeah, you’re not so bad after all.” You playfully punch him on the bicep and he laughs.
“You look so good tonight.” He says in your ear, pulling you flush against his body again— hand resting on the small of your back. “Gonna give me a bit of your time?”
“I don’t know, should I?”
“Tease. All those pictures and you can’t even spare me a minute.” He taps your nose and heads back to the table. It’s a few more minutes of Wooyoung hyping the crowd, San and Mingi both welcoming lapdances from a few cuties they met throughout the night while exploring out on the floor. Before you know it, you’re pulled mid-conversation with Yeo and Yunho— familiar hands resting on your waist. You feel Wooyoung push against you, guiding your hips against him for a dance. You love dancing with Woo because it’s fun, and there’s no pressure or expectation to be a certain way with him.
You live for that shit.
And tonight, you need him a little more than usual. In more ways than usual. Tippy-toeing into dangerous territory that makes you wanna act on your feelings.
You’re having to hold onto the edge of the table as Wooyoung bends you over ever so slightly, letting you work your ass against him to the music. He bites onto his bottom lip as he focuses on you, only you, matching your rhythm to the beat. You change your position, no longer leaning onto the edge of the table; back only inches away from Wooyoung. You lean to the side in order to get a better view of him from over your shoulder as you work your ass in slow, circular motions against him. The both of you let out a few laughs in between, focused on each other as if no one else was around. The grip on your hip tightens when Wooyoung’s free hand glides down your back in an effort to bend you over again. Your hands fall to your knees, picking up your pace to match the new song that comes on.
Wooyoung matches your energy so well it’s no wonder you never want to dance with anyone else the same way you do with him.
The dancing with Wooyoung continues for a bit more before he’s tapping out, tapping your hips once the song finishes. You stand to put some distance between you two, but he keeps you close; arm wrapped around your waist when you turn to look at him.
“I swear to God, Y/N.” He leans into your ear. “You make everything so difficult for me.”
“Doubt that.” He chuckles.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“The DJ is being fake and forgetting his set!” San teases. You blush and push him away, allowing him to get back to his craft in the meantime.
The next two and a half hours go by with a breeze, and you find your energy diminishing as the night continues to go on. You find yourself hugging closer to the wall behind the stage, leaning your head against Yeo’s shoulder— watching as San and Mingi continue to dance around and find a few pretties to get to know. Wooyoung turns over his shoulder a few times, tugging on your hand, flirting with you in a way he knows will get you to fold so quick; buckle at the knees, shyly giggle against him from all the cute ‘lil compliments that slip from his lips.
“Tryna go soon?” Yeosang asks near your ear. “Kinda over it.” He laughs.
“Yeah, I am, too! Let me just say goodbye to everyone.” You head to Yunho first, giving him a bear hug before letting San and Mingi playfully hug you and spin you around. “Hey.” You tug on Wooyoung’s hand, causing him to shift the headphones up so he could hear you.
“You’re leaving?” He frowns a bit.
“Yeah! Time for us to head out.” You smile, but he pouts.
“Where are you going?” He looks down at you, brushing the hair away from your face. “Don’t wanna stick around to grab a bite to eat with everyone after?”
“No, I’m tired. Yeo and I are probably just gonna grab something quick on the road before he drops me off.” He pouts even more.
“Gonna make me miss you.”
“Don’t say stuff like that, Woo.” He continues to pout anyway, hand coming to squeeze your side again in an endearing way.
“Can I text you later, then?”
“If I’m up.”
“I need you to be up. Please?”
“For what, exactly?” You chuckle.
“Your company.” He puckers his lips. “Tryna give me a kiss before you head out?”
“Get out.” You laugh.
“Just fuck and get together already!” Mingi says loudly with a hearty laugh. Woo turns to flip him off before shifting his attention back to you.
“Okay, please?” He repeats. “Promise me you’ll be up?”
“Get back to the crowd. I’ll be up.” You reassure him, gently pushing him towards the table. He nibbles at this bottom lip before heading back to his set. You nod over to Yeosang and start making your way out of the club, holding onto his hand as he leads the way again. Once you get outside, the cold air feels good against your sticky, warm skin. You let out a deep breath, keeping your body close to your bestfriend to keep some kind of warmth.
“I don’t know why you just don’t tell him.” Yeosang says as he continues to walk alongside you on the way to the car parked on the opposite end of the block.
“I have nothing to tell him.”
“Y/N, please.” Yeosang chuckles. “We know.” You roll your eyes and sigh.
“Why is everyone on my case about him tonight?”
“I don’t know, maybe because you two should just quit the act and get together already?” He snorts. “You should at least try when you guys get some alone time later.”
“Who said we will?”
“I know you, you’ll stay up for him.” Yeosang gives you a look before gently nudging you. “Until then, what do you wanna stop by for?”
“I don’t know, I’m not too hungry. Truthfully, I’d be satisfied with some good ol’ fries and an ice cream cone.” You laugh and Yeo nods while swinging his keys around his finger.
“Got it.” He unlocks the door. “Get in princess, we need to get your fries and ice cream before Woo comes over.” You scold him as you settle into the passenger’s seat, recalling some events from the night as he drives off to the nearest fast food joint for the best fries nearby.
When Yeosang finally drops you off at home, you’ve completely devoured your fries and ice cream cone, and you find yourself slowly dragging yourself up to your studio. The club had just closed, so you weren’t expecting to hear from Wooyoung for awhile. You let out a satisfied sigh when you slip out of your shoes, kicking them off to the side before tossing your bag and keys onto the table. You make a beeline for the shower, more than ready to wash off the club and get into something comfortable. It’s a quick one, though; a good 10 minutes under the hot water with that coconut body scrub you love so much before stepping out and lathering up with some body cream. You toss on an oversized shirt and crash onto your bed, feeling incredibly happy to be in your own safe space.
You wonder what Wooyoung is doing.
It’s crazy because at this point, it feels like the universe is listening closely to your thoughts— especially when a ding comes through on your phone and puts a big smile on your face.
wooyo: cutiepie
wooyo: are you up 🥺 say yes
you: lol yeah i am.
wooyo: fuck yeah! you kept your promise!
you: excuse, since when did i ever break a promise with you?
wooyo: never, that’s why you’re perfect for me
you: shut up lol
wooyo: lol 😙 can i slide through and hang out for a bit?
you: mhm! what happened to eating out with the boys?
wooyo: bruh san got too fucked up so we all ended up going our separate ways
you: wooooow hahah hope he’s good though?
wooyo: he’ll be fine. did u and yeo actually get some stuff to eat?
you: yeah we did. you should grab something for yourself before heading over
wooyo: nah it’s all good. i don’t care too much for it, just need your company. be there in 15?
you: sounds good! front door’s unlocked
wooyo: hot, she can’t wait either
you: stop while you’re ahead jung wooyoung
wooyo: oop hehe woops 🤭
It wasn’t anything new to have Wooyoung come over, but he usually comes to hang out for an hour or so before he’s leaving to head back to his own place. The good thing about Wooyoung is that even though there’s this deep chemistry, this longing for each other, he never forces anything. Never pressures you.
So, he comes through. He gives you a few kisses and gives you a few laughs from his jokes. He cuddles you for a bit before he’s saying his goodbyes and struggling to get himself out of the door.
It’ll probably be the same tonight, maybe.
It feels different because you loved seeing him in his element, and you loved having fun with him. It also feels different because your friends were all up in your case about him— now, you can’t really get the idea out of your head. That maybe, you do really, really want something with Wooyoung and you’re afraid to admit it. Afraid he might not feel the same even though he’s never done anything to hurt you or show you otherwise.
Maybe, you’ll finally take that leap tonight and just go for it.
Say fuck it.
In the end, at least you could say you tried, right?
Amidst all your overthinking, you surprisingly do fall asleep in those 15-20 minutes. You’re awoken by your front door closing, along with Wooyoung’s loud ass keys dangling from his keychain and hitting his thigh with every step he takes.
“Did you fall asleep?” He giggles when tosses his belongings onto your desk and plops onto your bed.
“I did fall asleep for a bit.” You yawn and fix your position a bit, Wooyoung laying next to you on his tummy.
“I didn’t even take that long, did I?”
“No, but I can’t be tired?! Damn.” He snorts.
“Sorry, sorry.” He kisses the tip of your nose, his arm draped over you. Hand caressing your side under your shirt. His hand is warm, but it tickles against your skin and raises a few goosebumps at how smooth his touch is. He looks at you for a split second before he leans in to peck you on the lips, smiling into the kiss just as he pulls back. “So, did you have fun?”
“I did. You played a good set tonight, Woo.”
“I did, huh?” You laugh.
“Did you have fun?”
“It was so fucking fun.” He laughs. “I just wished you stayed ‘till the end. Everyone seemed boo’d up and I was just the lonely ass DJ playing for the crowd.”
“Please. I’m sure you still had fun until then.”
“I did, but it wasn’t the same without you.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile, hand brushing through his soft black hair.
“When’s your next one?”
“Why, huh?” He smirks. “An excuse to dance up on me again?”
“Excuse you, you pulled me for a dance!” You playfully swat him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, and? I’ll do it again at the next one.” He pulls out his phone. “I’m doing something next weekend with a few other DJs. Wanna come?”
“Sure. I don’t think Yeo would go, though. I practically dragged his ass out for this one.”
“Okay.” Wooyoung types something on his phone before tossing it aside, full attention on you again. “Promise me you’ll actually stay until the end. Gimme a chance to show you off, too.”
“Wooyoung.” You giggle. He tickles your sides, causing you to squeal and kick your feet before he lets you breathe. You find Wooyoung staring at you again, and it causes your heart to do major flips.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N. You looked so damn good tonight.”
“You did too, I guess.” You tease and he bites onto his bottom lip, leaning forward for another kiss.
“Tease. Hate it.” He presses his lips against yours, holding it for as long as he can before he pulls back. “Why don’t you wanna kiss me in front of our friends, hm?” He presses another kiss to your lips, edging closer to your body so he could comfortably throw his arm around you.
“Because we aren’t together.” You giggle.
“Shouldn’t we change that?”
“Don’t say shit like that, Wooyoung. I told you.”
“I mean it. Why can’t we be? I don’t necessarily have anything to hide.” Wooyoung kisses at the corner of your lips. “Unless you do?”
“I don’t.”
“So, tell me. Why can’t we be?” He asks again, close to a whisper, lips grazing the surface of yours. You don’t say anything, no. Instead, you feel like your actions could do the talking for tonight. Your actions could tell Wooyoung what you’ve been feeling all this time, your actions could tell Wooyoung how much you’ve been longing for him— longing for something more, longing for something deeper than the surface.
You make the first move and push into his lips, instantly deepening the kiss. Your hands tug at the ends of his hair as the two of you fit in each other’s molds so perfectly; teeth clashing against each other in a fit of desperate need, tongues fighting for dominance. Hoping the answer would be evident in the way you move so well with him. “Fuck, baby.” Wooyoung breathily responds as you bite onto his bottom lip. He moves down to your neck and licks across the surface, gently nipping and sucking faint marks down the column. You feel Wooyoung’s hand squeeze at your hip before he pauses at the material of your panties, threatening to slip them down and toss them off. Everything suddenly feels so heated, too intense, too quick— you’re afraid there isn’t a way to come back from this anymore. “Y/N, if you tell me to stop right now, I’ll stop.” He feels your hesitancy, almost hears you thinking outloud. “Whatever you wanna do.”
“N-no. Keep going.”
“You sure? Cause if I keep going, I won’t be able to stop, you know that, right?” He gently nips at your chin while teasing the edge of your panties. “Been wanting this for so long, I won’t be able to help myself.”
“I want this too.”
“Yeah?” He smirks while finally pulling your panties down and tossing them onto the floor. “Gonna let me finally take care of you?” He kisses you once more before shifting his position to be in between your thighs, hands gripping at ‘em while he presses light kisses in your inner thighs. He smirks to himself and bites onto his bottom lip when he sees you bare underneath the shirt, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks.
“Woo.” You shyly throw an arm over your face.
“Don’t do that.” He chuckles and gently tugs on your elbow. “You’re so fucking beautiful, shit feels too fucking good to be true right now.” In a blink of an eye, Wooyoung presses a light kiss against your pussy— sending tingles straight down your spine. He indulges in how reactive you are, gently easing himself back down onto your heat to give you what you deserve. You let out a breathy moan when Wooyoung latches back on and continues his work on you; tongue working up and down, licking in between your folds. The pleasure makes your back arch in response, another moan slipping from your lips and sounding like music to Wooyoung’s ears.
“Oh my god.” You let out with a silent moan. You whimper when Wooyoung slips in two digits, pumping into you at a quick pace while his mouth continues to lap at your clit, sucking in between to taste every single drop of you. When he pulls out, you take the opportunity to grind against his mouth; aching to feel the friction you so desperately need, want, from him. “Oh fuck, Woo.” Your moan is a little louder this time, causing him to groan against you as a way to egg you on towards the finish line. “Just like that, please. I’m gonna—” You whine, repeatedly cursing to yourself until you feel that coil within you suddenly snap and throw you off guard. Your moans bounce off the walls and Wooyoung is sure the couple upstairs can hear it loud and clear.
Oh well.
“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He kisses your inner thigh, leading a trail up to your knee. He sits back onto his knees and removes his shirt, the tent in his sweats making you drool the more you fixate on it.
“Woo.” You look at him with a tiny pout. “Can I?” You sit up in order to reach him and palm hin gently.
“Mm, baby.” He lets out a small moan. “You don’t have to, I just—”
“Please?” You beg with those eyes and Wooyoung can’t help buckle at the knees. You’re already helping him out his sweats, and he feels the urge, the desire, to find out how your pretty lips feel wrapped around his dick.
The image alone drives him to insanity, and he can’t wait to see you sucking him off like the good girl you are.
He swallows the lump in his throat when he watches you pump him slowly, taking your lips to his tip. He hisses when you lick away at the pre-cum pooling at the top of the head before lowering your mouth down his length.
And, fuck.
Wooyoung feels like he’ll lose himself right at this moment. He tilts his head back in pleasure, letting out a small, guttural moan when you work your mouth [and hands] on him. He gently tugs at your hair, pushing you a little further down his length just to test the waters. But, you take him anyway, and Wooyoung wants to fucking combust. You look so, so pretty with your lips around him, and it doesn’t help his cause when he feels his dick hit the back of your throat; pushing him to the highest of highs, purest ecstasy.
“Fuck—fuck.” He groans. “Baby, wait. You’ll make me cum.” He lets out a breath, eyes focusing on you. He pulls you back just a bit, caressing your cheek when he sees a faint tear streak coating the surface. “I need to be in you. Now.” You bite onto your bottom lip and settle back onto your back as Wooyoung slots himself back in between your legs. He takes your shirt off at the same time, tongue licking a stripe up your cleavage before leaving wet kisses along the swell of your breasts. He quickly pops a nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around the puffy bud before repeating the motions with the other.
“Shit.” You hiss. “Wooyoung, please.”
“Please, what?” He teases. He has that shit-eating smirk on his face as he sits back and watches you squirm, pumping himself slowly while he waits for you to respond. “Hm, sweet girl?”
“Need you.”
“Where? Care to tell me again?”
“I swear to God if you aren’t fucking me in the next 2 minutes—” He laughs as he lowers himself back down, just enough to hover over your body and plant a feathery kiss on your lips.
“Say please.” He smiles. “Besides, do you have a condom? I swear I haven’t been messy or anything, you know this. But I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m on the pill, so please.”
“You sure?” You nod, hands resting on his shoulders. He does a subtle nod before he lines himself up at your entrance and eases in— the both of you letting out gasps while adjusting to the feeling. It already feels too good with the way he fills you up and makes you feel full. For Wooyoung, it’s the way your walls wrap around him so nicely that makes him truly believe you were made just for him.
Only him.
Once he bottoms out, he sits in the position for a second before he slowly rocks against you. Wooyoung begins to pick up the pace when he feels a little more comfortable, pressing kisses on every inch of your skin that he possibly can while whispering sweet nothings against the surface. He praises you so, so well, it has you whimpering a mess underneath him— only wanting more of Wooyoung, only wanting to feel every bit of his soul intertwined with yours at this very moment.
Only him.
“God, you feel so good Y/N.” He lets out a breathy moan into your mouth. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you. Everything about you is so perfect.” He moans. “So pretty and so perfect.” He picks up his pace, hips working a little sloppier, a little harder. “Just for me.” He sits back and rests his hand on your hips, pounding into you in such a majestic way, it almost has you seeing stars right then and there. You continue to praise him, letting him know how good he’s making you feel, and how you need him just like this.
Only him.
“Switch for me.” He removes himself quickly and directs you to your fours. He wastes no time slipping himself back into you, the new position and angle enough to make you two crave more and more of each other. Once he buries himself to the hilt, he keeps a steady pace as his hands explore every curve of your body, pressing kisses against the base of your neck;
Shoulders.
Back.
Tracing your spine.
“Feels too good.” You mewl, Wooyoung’s name slipping from your lips repeatedly like a song, a mantra. He continues to pound into your from behind— ass cheeks sore and red from the impact, from Wooyoung’s hands.
“Wanna make you mine.” He moans in your ear as he thrusts a ‘lil harder, a ‘lil rougher than the last. “Can I, babygirl?”
“Y-Yes.” Your response is almost broken by a cry that’s released, an immediate reaction to how hard Wooyoung is fucking into you.
“Say it louder. Can’t hear you. Can I make you mine, baby?” He repeats, thrusting even harder than the last. His hand glides down your back as you fall onto your chest with your cheek deep into the pillow; ass up and pressed against him so beautifully every time he fucks into you.
“Yes, fuck!” You let out, hand coming down to rub at your sensitive nub to push you over the edge one last time for tonight.
“Oh shit, gonna cum—” Woooyoung pants. “Where do you want me?”
“Inside.”
“So fucking hot—” He groans while sloppily working his hips until the very end. You feel him fill you up, coating your walls so deliciously it’s enough to push you to your own high. Wooyoung hisses and grunts a few times when he feels you squeeze him, feeling a bit sensitive from his own release.
“God.” You try to regulate your breathing when you come back down from cloud nine, body falling limp against the mattress with Wooyoung plopping next to you.
“Come here, pretty.” He chuckles, swooping you onto his chest with his hand coming up to stroke your hair and massage your scalp. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
“Okay. But, first. Can you stay tonight?” You look up at him and he smiles brightly.
“Why would I leave my baby’s side?” He kisses your forehead. “Let’s go. If you’re good, I’ll let you take me in the shower.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“The real after hours after party.” Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrows as he watches you climb over and start making your way to the bathroom.
“You’re so sick for that.” You laugh, squealing as he smacks your ass and follows you into the bathroom, getting his way with you once more under the steaming hot water.
💿 taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts
#wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung x reader#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#wooyoung fanfic#jung wooyoung imagines#wooyoung imagines#jung wooyoung#wooyoung#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez smut#ateez fluff#wooyoung smut#wooyoung fluff#jung wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung fluff#kpop imagines#hwaslayer: after hours
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Hii! Hope you’re having a great day :D
I was thinking about Law with a tall male reader who looks very intimidating. everyone thinks that he is the top in the relationship but Law is the one who actually tops/? Like his s/o looks like a top but is actually a pillow princess. ;)
You can take this as a request or not if you want :3
Trafalgar D. Water Law x Tall male reader
Headcanons
Guten Abend everyone, still getting dragged over the studying coals, but fuck it we ball.
No outright smut in this one, mainly just focusing on their relationship since im exhausted, but I hope its still enjoyable.
In the One Piece universe, being tall can mean a lot of things. Being taller than Law just means you have to be somewhere over 6 ft 5, or taller, if that’s what you prefer. Being intimidating isn’t too hard either, especially if you are a fellow pirate.
Seeing you two together can be a little off-putting to the people around you, at least the ones that aren’t part of your crew, who know you two on a more personal level.
No one would dare to make assumptions in the beginning of a meeting, since Law already has quite the reputation, and either your scary aura or your own dangerous reputation makes people shut up. They might have ideas to themselves, but they wouldn’t verbalize it.
It probably comes up during an afterparty of some kind, after you guys have defeated the baddie of the week and you’re all kicking back. Since Law isn’t a big fan of drinking, you would end up being the one getting tipsy out of the two of you.
At some point during the night, Kidd or others who are more comfortable with you two, would start making jabs or ask questions, as one does when you get wasted. It becomes clear pretty damn quick though, that everyone thinks that Law is the one who bottoms.
Law isn’t the type to out your guy’s bedroom life, but I could still imagine him asking, in a bit of a tense tone, why they think that. That’s when you guys get the explanation from your allies and friends. But it all boils down to you being taller, bigger, scarier and with a stronger presence. So, it just made sense to them.
It gets a bit of a laugh from you, and you can tell from the tension in Laws jaw that it gets on his nerves, maybe even hurting his ego a little. But you also know your lover wouldn’t verbalize those thoughts, not wanting to admit something like an assumption of his bedroom role would hit him in any way.
When you guys get back to the polar tang, one would assume Law would drag you off to the bedroom to show you and him that your friends and allies’ assumptions were wrong. But Law is also a doctor, so he wouldn’t want to do such a thing when you’re drunk.
Instead, he gets some water in you, gets you something to eat, helps you get washed down if that’s what you need, and then the two of you conk out in bed, Law the big spoon even if you are taller. Hes like your tattooed backpack, if the height difference is big enough.
Law doesn’t end up making a move on you in the morning either if you suffer from hangovers, instead your lover would make sure you were alright, and get you something for the hangover if its bad enough. His ego may have been wounded a little, but he’s a respectful guy, especially to you as his lover.
That evening, or the day after though, you’re all his, not that you mind though. Seeing as all your crewmates are most likely still out partying or suffering from hangovers, you two have the polar tang all to yourself.
As you enjoy laying back and receiving pleasure without doing much in return, Law gets to do most of the work. He doesn’t need the same in return, as giving you pleasure is satisfying for him. Being in charge would feel quite nice for him, as it allows him to have an eye on the entire situation and what’s going on.
Law would definitely also use his devil fruit power when you guys are together, since it would make it easier for the both of you, and with his devil fruit he’s able to reach parts of you no one else can.
In the end, people you meet, and probably most of your friends and allies, think you are the top still, but Law wouldn’t mind too much after you show him that you don’t think lesser of him or let other people’s assumptions bother you or your relationship.
#male reader#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law#one piece#trafalgar law imagine#trafalgar law headcanon#trafalgar law x male reader#trafalgar law x reader#one piece imagine#one piece headcanon#one piece x male reader#one piece x reader#trafalgar d water law imagine#trafalgar d water law headcanon#trafalgar d water law x male reader#trafalgar d water law x reader
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Alone With You
Pairing: Rolanxf!Reader
Summary: Rolan has been taking out his anger on you ever since you've arrived at the Last Light Inn. You finally get fed up and snap at him, which leads you feeling bit guilty. You try to make it up to him and let him take out his anger on you yet again
Tags: smut, PiV sex, degradation, hate sex, light angst, tail sucking, face fucking, creampie
Of all the people you could have found in the depths of the shadow cursed lands, why did it have to be Rolan. You groaned as you watched him fire off magic missles, clearly overwhelmed by the wraiths that were clawing at him.
“Why couldn't he just stay at the Inn?” You grumbled to yourself, rubbing your hand down your face. You were in no mood to be dealing with his egotistical bullshit. You told him you would save his siblings.
You ran down the hill, your party in tow. The look of despair on Rolan's face was hard to miss. Shadowheart made quick work of two of the wraiths and you finished the others with a few focused attacks. The fight was over in moments and Rolan approached you, fuming.
“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right- not a damn thing!” He yelled to himself, though his ire was pointed at you. It had been all night. Ever since you stepped foot in the Last Light Inn, he'd been taking out his rage on you. You knew it was misdirected, he was scared and insecure. But your patience was running very thin.
“You shouldn't be here, Rolan” you said through gritted teeth. The tiefling had every right to be upset, but he was really grating on your nerves tonight.
“Yes, I should,” he challenged. “I came here to save Cal and Lia. Instead, I found myself in need of rescue. From you… of all bloody people” he scowled at you, referring to you as if you were the scum of the realm.
You gripped the lantern so hard you thought it might splinter. “Unbelievable. I have been nothing but nice to you, you self absorbed prick. You wanna do something for your siblings? Stop trying to get yourself killed for your ego, sober up, and pull yourself together” you chastised him, fed up with his attitude.
Rolan looked as though he had more to say, but held his tongue and walked back in the direction to the Inn. You figured it was for the best. If he said one more thing you thought you might smack that repugnant look off his face.
You watched him conjure a transportation spell back to the Inn. He stomped his way into the bar and the portal closed behind him. Rude he didn't offer to transport you as well but at least he was gone.
“Gods, he's a piece of work” you said, rubbing your temples from the stressful encounter.
Shadowheart raised a brow at you. “Is that what you think of him?” She asked, in a curious manner.
You eyed her, suspiciously. “I think he's probably very scared about his siblings being captured and he's blaming me because that's something he can control right now,” you explained, not very comfortable with her tone. “I also don't care to be his stress relief. He can deal with it like a big boy or deal with it alone. It's not my problem” you were firm in your resolve. Whatever she was implying, you weren't taking the bait.
“If you're sure” Shadowheart shrugged and walked on. Of course you were sure, you just explained it to her.
You walked the rest of the way in silence, too irritated to say anything productive. You noticed the bar at the Inn was empty. Maybe what you said to Rolan finally got through to him.
A small part of you felt bad for chewing him out and you felt you should apologize before he took off again. You asked Jaheira if she'd seen him and she shrugged. She mentioned he might have gone to a spare room but she wasn't sure. You thanked her and made your way around the Inn. After looking in some of the guest rooms you started to think he'd gone off again. You checked the Inn more frantically, scouring every room until you found one last door.
For some reason, you felt the urge to listen through the door. You pressed your ear against the wood and tried to silence the loud beat of your heart in your ears.
At first, you heard nothing. Then, after a few moments, you heard his voice. It was strangled, and low. Unlike how you'd heard him speak before. Almost as if it were a purr. You were so relieved to hear his voice you didn't even process what you were listening to. You immediately knocked on the door.
“Zurgan- leave me alone!” you heard him answer from the other side of the door. His voice was pitchy, like he was straining from something.
You rolled your eyes. “Rolan, it's me, we need to talk” you placed your hand on the door handle, clicking it open.
“No! No- don't!” opening the door, you were at a loss for words. The wizard apprentice was sprawled out on the bed, shirt removed, fisting his cock with fervor. You shut the door behind you. “Gods damn it, why did it have to be you? Why is it always you?” He let go of himself, dropping his hand on the bed and giving you a stare that could cut you into pieces.
“I'm sorry, I-” you started to apologize.
“No, enough of your sorries! You have no respect for my life, for my privacy, or anyone's for that matter. You just go around involving yourself wherever you think it makes you important and don't stick around to see it through” he ranted at you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his cock. It was still fully erect.
“I'm sorry” you walked over to him, eyes taking him in. His normally upkept hair was completely disheveled and framed his face which was glistening with sweat. He'd been fucking his hand furiously. The image it brought to your mind filled you with a heat deep inside you.
He guffawed at you, furious. “Did you not hear a word I said? Are you dull?” he watched in awe as you sank to your knees at the side of his bed, eyes looking at him in expectation.
Rolan sat up to face you, feet on either side of you, his cock poking at his navel. “You think I want to fuck you? After everything you've done to me?” He fisted your hair and tilted back your head. You noticed his tail was twitching excitedly.
His eyes followed yours to his tail and he groaned. He stood, grasping your jaw so it hung open. “I'd tell you to breathe but I don't care,” he said before thrusting into your open mouth.
Even with his big talk, he showed restraint. His hips only rutting shallow thrusts and he was clearly focused on slowing his pace. You gripped the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer.
“You brat” he huffed, thrusting harder. A mischievous thought crossed your mind and you narrowed your eyes to look up at him. You were going to be a brat, alright. Your hand moved upwards, carefully locating the base of his tail, and you grasped it lightly.
Rolan's shocked sputtering was a satisfying result of your plotting. He pulled you off of him in a quick motion and grabbed your wrist. “What is wrong with you?!” He sounded exasperated.
“Oh you didn't like that? It kind of felt like you did when your cock was twitching in my throat” you grinned at him.
Rolan pulled you onto the bed, grunting as he did. He was deceptively strong for a wizard. You were bent forward, your ass lifted for him as your face pressed into the mattress. “Will you just shut up already?” he pulled your pants down your thighs and you felt his tail wrap around your naked thigh, firmly.
You felt the head of his rigid cock press against your hole. You could tell you were soaked as he pressed the tip against you. Letting out a loud whine, Rolan snapped his hips, driving himself into you. “I said shut up!” He set a bruising pace, forcing you down into the mattress with his hips while a hand pressed your shoulder down.
You could feel his infernal ridges dragging against the walls of your cunt, pulling out to slam back into you as you moaned out his name.
“The brave adventurer moaning my name like a whore. What would your friends think if they knew you were taking a foulbloods cock like a dirty slut? Fucking pathetic” he pounded into you harder, his tail flexing against your leg.
Your back arched deeper and you rocked your hips to his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin was echoing against the walls of the room, only to be quieted by your moans.
You looked back to your thigh to see the tip of his tail was twitching frantically. He was restraining it. You reached back and stroked the tip with your thumb, eliciting a strangled moan from the tiefling. Cautiously, he unfurled it and let you take it in your grasp. You lightly ran your fingers on the edges of his tail, testing the sensitivity while he tried to compose himself. It was clear by his sporadic pace and breathy moans that his tail was incredibly sensitive. As an experiment, you ran the flat of your tongue along the tip of his tail. Rolan nearly collapsed on you.
“W-wait” he stuttered, composure lost. He'd stopped moving entirely, disappointing you.
“What's wrong?” You asked, innocently. You pressed a kiss to his tail and felt him shudder around you.
“It's too much, really. I won't last” he breathed out.
You licked again, lighter this time, then gave a dark grin. “I don't care,” you said before stuffing the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tail and humming.
Rolan cursed at you and lifted his leg onto the bed to fuck into you mercilessly. The unforgiving pace and intense angle was overwhelming. You were fastly approaching your climax along with him. Rolan felt as your cunt clenched around him and in an effort to bring you to completion, he brought his fingers to your clit to finish you off, making you squeal around his tail.
The combined pleasures of your orgasm and your mouth pushed him over the edge, causing him to come deep inside of you. In his exhaustion, he grabbed you and collapsed on his side, still buried in your aching cunt.
For a while, you didn't say anything. His tail had slipped out of your mouth and his spend was seeping out of you while his cock softened. But you laid still in his arms while the afterglow diminished.
From behind you, you heard a faint sound. He was saying something so quiet you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.
“What?” You asked, quietly.
“I said I'm sorry” he replied. You nodded, not wanting to press on the issue.
“It's okay. Do you want me to stay?” You asked, unsure of what he needed.
Rolan didn't respond for a moment, ashamed to say yes. Ashamed to say he needed you again. That you really weren't the bane of his existence and that he was scared of being alone. Instead, he held you closer.
#bg3#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 rolan#rolan#rolan x reader#rolan x tav#holy rolan empire#rolan/tav
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Online & Anonymous 3/16
Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.
Odd year = Bradely's POV and Even year = Jake's POV
>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)
>>Jake chatting (italics)
2005/2006 2007
2008 – Jake
Flight school.
Four years at USNA and now he’s back in Texas, the familiarity seeping into him like a homecoming and part of him cannot believe he made it into flight school. Not that he’ll let anyone else think he had any doubt, but he is inwardly fist pumping, outwardly trying to pretend it’s no big deal. He doesn’t care if it comes off smug, he does feel a little smug, that he obviously good enough to have been selected. Damn it feels good. And also such a relief.
He’s good enough.
He wants to share it with Nick. Doesn’t of course. While he trusts Nick with pretty much every little piece of vulnerability when it’s related to his sexuality and experience in that arena, his career is shaping up to be another huge part of his identity and he doesn’t need help or guidance from a guy on a website on how to best work on this aspect of his life. He feels like he’s got this one. After a few months though he decides to share, in a vague way, because he’s been getting comments from his instructors.
Approval.
He’s doing well.
>>You ever accomplish something that people didn’t think you could do?
>>That even you maybe didn’t think you could do?
>>HA.
>>Yes.
>>Feels fucking amazing to prove them wrong.
Jake grins at the screen, wants to tell him about how amazing it is, being in the air. How much he loves it, the rush of the pressure pushing him back into the seat as he takes off. The
>>I got into my first choice of programme. So yeah.
>>Does feel pretty good.
>>Well done. Proud of you.
>>Thanks.
>>Think you maybe need to believe in yourself more.
>>Maybe.
>>My parents didn’t.
>>Don’t.
He hasn’t talked about his parents with Nick. Talking about your parents generally doesn’t come up when your jerking off with another guy online, but they talk about a lot of different stuff now and it fits with this right now. He feels like Nick might get it.
>>I came out to them and they kicked me out.
>>Oh shit. I’m sorry.
>>I mean, it’s not a competition but my parents are dead so I can understand that feeling of loss I guess? Like they should be around to support me, but they aren’t.
>>Sucks more for you I think. They’re alive and are just bigots.
>>I was lucky to already have a place to go.
>>I’m extra proud of you.
Pensacola is a different beast than boat school, everyone seems to be a little smug that they made the cut to be there, and Jake lets himself absorb the culture. He tries sleeping with a woman only to find that he can apparently have worse sexual experiences than his first time with a man, and of course he finds himself messaging Nick.
>>Bad sex with a man is still preferable than bad sex with a woman.
>>You give in to peer pressure and hook up huh?
>>How did you know?
>>Been there, done that. Got the tshirt.
>>As a gay man I have to tell you that even bad sex with a man rates above mediocre sex with a woman.
>>Why do people care so much where you want to stick your dick?
>>I like that rhyme. And I have no fucking clue. Mystery. It’s not like gay people haven’t always existed.
>>I’ve got a friend, female friend, who knows I’m gay, and she let’s me use her as a beard sometimes. Everyone thinks we have an on-again off-again fuck-buddies type thing going on.
>>So you’re still not out to people.
>>Nope. Would make work impossible so I just –
>>Hide in plain sight.
>>Huh. I wonder if I could get one of my friends to cover for me.
>>A lot less women in the military. Good luck I guess?
>>Well. I think one of my friends might just lie for me. Tell others that he saw me leaving with a hot chick or something. He’s the best wingman.
He stares at the message, wishes he could call it back.
Delete it.
It’s too close to home.
Wingman.
>>Definitely need a good wingman if you’re planning on cruising. You got bigger balls then me if you’re going to try and do it while you’re not on leave.
>>Are you sure that’s safe?
>>It’s not like they’re following me and putting cameras in rooms. I just need to be careful. Although so not worth it most of the time. But it would be kind of nice to have the option if it did present itself.
>>Yeah, I’m sure guys are just falling into your lap in the military.
>>I mean, they might be and I’m just not picking up the signs. They’re probably so repressed they wouldn’t be any good anyway.
>>I’ll leave that for you to find out.
>>Not sure if I should be wishing you luck or telling you to be careful.
Jake isn’t sure either. He probably not going to risk it.
… … …
It’s not always possible for them to have instant communication. He gets interrupted sometimes, or Nick isn’t available for days at a time, sometimes weeks, and his own schedule is erratic. However he’s always had time, made time, to chat with him since they found each other and he doesn’t have so many close friends that he can afford to ignore one.
“What are you always doing on your laptop?” Javy asks and Jake feels like time freezes around him for a split second. Javy is one of the few people he’d count as a friend, his easy-going nature dealing with Jake’s prickliness effortlessly, seemingly patient and just waiting for Jake to come around. They were at USNA together and it wasn’t until they shared all their third- and second-class summers together that Jake had thought that maybe they could be friends.
“Talking with a friend. He travels a lot.”
He feels like it’s not actually a stretch of the truth, because he’s figured out that Nick moves around, the times he can talk inconsistent, meaning different times zones. He’s always assumed that Nick is American, but now he knows that the website they’re using to chat is actually based in England, and for all he knows Nick could be anywhere in the world.
>>Are you American?
>>Will you stop talking to me if I say no?
>>Of course not.
>>I’m shaking my head at you. You’re meant to be all patriotic being a member of our military. Shouldn’t be communicating with the enemy.
>>You just called it our military. Pretty sure you’re American.
>>Caught out. Yeah. I travelled around a lot as a kid. Tennessee, California, Virginia, Maryland and even Texas. Who knows, we could have walked past each other and never even known.
>>Yeah. We could have. That would be a weird coincidence.
“You know, if you ever want to tell me something, I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.”
Jake’s head snaps up so fast he’s surprised there isn’t an accompanying sound.
“What?”
“Just. Uh. I know if there was something, you can’t tell me. But if you did, and I’m not asking you to, but if you did, I wouldn’t be letting anyone else know. No telling on my part, that is.”
He blinks.
Holy shit.
That’s pretty much Javy saying he knows, or at least suspects, that Jake is… something other than straight.
“Just, once second. Just let me say bye…”
>>I think I’m about to come out to a guy who is my best friend in real life, because you’re my best friend in not-real life, plus we have sex and I do not want to ever have sex with J, but uh… I think I might be sick.
>>I’ll talk to you soon.
His conversation with Javy goes around in circles for a little bit, Javy not willing to ask outright, and Jake unprepared to speak the truth; terrified to voice it. Then Javy gets fed up, places his hands on Jake’s shoulders and just stares at him, expression serious.
“Jake. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother. There is nothing, nothing,” he stresses, “that would make me stop loving you as my brother and best friend. So, if in some hypothetical world you felt brave enough to tell me that you were… gay, then it wouldn’t change anything for me. I just. I got your back no matter what okay?”
Jake can’t form words, grabs Javy into a tight hug, he’s biting his lip so hard it hurts, might even be drawing blood and he nods.
“Thank you.”
“Any time man. You want to go shoot some pool?”
Jake lets out a shaky breath and nods again.
They spend several hours together, in which Javy seems to want to really impress upon Jake that nothing is going to change between them. He still uses his body to shove Jake out of the way when he shows Javy up at pool, still slaps his ass in a vain attempt to distract him while playing darts, grabs them beers and doesn’t pull his fingers away when they accidentally brush like Jake is somehow going to take that as a sign of something more. He can have friends that know and they won’t hate him.
It’s a revelation.
… … …
>>How did it go?
>>I’m kind of worried about you.
>>Hope you haven’t done anything stupid.
>>Or been beaten up.
>>Dishonorable discharge.
>>Fuck Jas, please tell me you’re okay.
Jake stares at the flood of messages and feels touched, but also a little hysterical, because none of those worse case scenarios are going to happen. He trusts Javy with his life, he can definitely trust him with knowing.
>>I’m okay. Sorry.
>>It was fine. He had pretty much guessed and we talked about it. He’s the best.
>>After you.
>>Glad to know I haven’t been replaced.
>>I appreciated you for the orgasms.
>>Oh. Okay. Putting me back in my place.
>>Prefer you to put me in my place.
>>Really now? You in the mood huh?
>>Yeah.
>>Fuck. This is awful timing. I’ve got to leave in like five minutes.
>>Can’t take care of you like I want to.
>>That’s okay. You can go out and do what you need to do, and while you’re out you can think about me, jerking off as I type out what I want to do to you.
>>Unfair.
>>Hot though.
>>Shit. I’ve really got to go. I look forward to reading whatever you leave me.
Jake grins, a little nervous. He’s gotten better at this, anything he does regularly for a few years becomes better, but he doesn’t know if it’s good. Not without Nick offering his constant feedback. He always finds what they talk about together the best, but Nick has left him plenty of messages that are just descriptions of what he wants and likes that Jake wants to return the favor.
>>I want to go down on you, suck you off until you come. I want to kneel in front of you and take my time, learn the taste and smell of you. The texture of your skin under my tongue and fingers.
>>I want to do it while I’m in my uniform, because that feels taboo you know? Want you to rub the head of your dick over my lips.
>>Want you naked so I can touch everywhere.
>>I start off slow, a little cautious because I want you to fuck my face, but we’re going to need to build up to that, stretch out my mouth and throat a little, let me gets used to the feel of you in my mouth and throat.
>>I really want to do this. I’m hard just thinking about it. Like the idea of your hand on my head, just guiding me, think I’d enjoy fingernails scraping my head.
>>I want to do this with a guy with no condom, I want to taste the skin and salt. I want that trust as well.
>>I’d trust you.
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I'm so proud of myself about finances in the past couple months. I still struggle with money but I did enough meditation and journaling and practicing about it to make myself able to actually face my loans and credit cards and savings and bills and start really truly organizing and addressing them for the first time in years instead of just flying by the seat of my pants.
Like. This is a huge deal for me. I've felt like I'm in deadly danger every time I've tried to think about money for years and years. I'm finally able to look it in the face and stare it down and start to organize and plan on purpose instead of just keeping up with the minimum to stay afloat. I'm so proud of myself.
It's still a refrain of "GUILT (funny link)" every time I think about money but I'm able to actually make spreadsheets and face the numbers and monthly tracking again, and even make a new full budget which I haven't been able to do in ages.
still feel guilt, overwhelm, and helplessness, but no longer feel as much deep elemental shame and terror. that's progress baby
#we don't need to talk about how many months and months of therapy visits and doctor appointments I put on credit cards#among other things#but I had to put my foot down about it a couple months ago and shout at myself a little saying HEY#I AM SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS I AM SHOUTING FOR YOU TO HEAR#OF COURSE IT WAS A TERRIBLE FINANCIAL DECISION BUT YOU WEREN'T EVEN EXPECTING TO BE ALIVE#THE CREDIT CARD DEBT WAS NECESSARY TO KEEP YOU ALIVE AND IT DID AND EVERYTHING ELSE IS WAY LESS IMPORTANT THAN THAT#why the FUCK are you feeling SO ASHAMED for making the best decision you knew how to make at the time???#just because you know NOW that you could have tried some other options doesn't mean you did THEN#you may have known enough to feel shame and guilt yes but you would never in a million years have gotten the help you needed fast enough#by attempting to go another route#you didn't trust anyone besides a very few handfuls of people and even them it wasn't fully#and the stress of running it through parental insurance was so terrifying to you bc you didn't know what that would do#and you never had cosigners for anything your whole adult life. it's OKAY#you fucking DID YOUR BEST#YOU HAVE LEARNED. YOU HAVE MADE CHANGES. YOU HAVE ALREADY DONE BETTER#YOU WILL CONTINUE TO LEARN AND IMPROVE OVER TIME#it is not the end of the world. even the utilities sending you to debt collections etc etc#YOU ARE FIGURING IT OUT ONE PIECE AT A TIME#MORE PEOPLE ARE ASHAMED AND AFRAID OF THEIR OWN FINANCES THAN YOU THINK#if the people who fought and argued with and shamed you for considering student loans much less taking them out#had wanted you to actually be financially safer and healthier#they could have just fucking helped out or cosigned your loans or actively helped you find other solutions#instead of spending months and months telling you it was the worst decision ever and would ruin you financially for decades and such#you made the best decisions you could with the level of terror and knowledge that you had. it was enough to keep you alive.#isn't that enough?#isn't it a victory to survive?? isn't that enough??????#god i'm cringing at sharing this but if it's been this hard for me surely at LEAST one of you has also made financial mistakes or regrets#and seeing me be honest that I fucked it all up too and it's a mess and I'm just climbing back through it as best as I can as I go#will hopefully make at least one of you feel a tiny bit less alone
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having a moment about my gender rn and i'm just like ugggggh @ my brain do we have to. like can we just not
#i need to go to bed soon bc i have a 10am class tomorrow but shoutout to the identity crisis i've been having since at least feb 6th#idk if identity crisis is even the right word. bc like one thing about me is that i have a very solid sense of self#like i know who i am and what i want and how i move through the world and what it feels like to be me#but in terms of how i label and explain that to others? that's where the identity crisis comes in#but no one else gets to experience me in first person POV so the descriptors i use and they ways i present myself are reality to them#and tbh? as i think about how some of the descriptors i use for myself don't accurately describe me some people are getting mad???#which is so fucking bizarre bc like. what the fuck it's my gender why are YOU being offended???#but it's also making me low key be like ''wait am i a bad person now????''#even tho i don't believe morality works like that. idk it's just been an exhausting month and a half#if anyone wants to hear more in depth thoughts on all this i would love to vent about it#(but not rn bc i will be going to bed as soon as i get this all out)#but like what i will say now is even tho this past month and a half has been ROUGH (for several reasons especially gender)#and people might expect that me spending so much time with scott in february made it more exhausting#which is understandable we love scott but touring in general is tiring and also i am the most opinionated person i've ever met but so is he#and also like. if you've heard scott talk about gender it's very obvious we disagree on a lot of things and he doesn't shy away from that#but the thing is. i'd actually say spending so much time with scott (even when we talk about gender. even when we *argue* about gender)#was actually such a good thing for me throughout all of this bc even when we disagree on semantics of labels#scott actually sees me beyond that rather than reducing my identity to what i call myself#which is how a lot of well-meaning allys tend to treat me. like i'm just one thing.#so when i'm with scott i never really have to think about my gender#bc he doesn't treat me like i'm (insert whatever gender people treat me like). he just treats me like i'm jessamine#and i'm tired of having to explain myself into smaller pieces so people can pretend to get it#but i feel like there's no way not to do that in our society rn especially at my ''progressive'' liberal arts college
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i've learned how to draw from complete strangers. like just. little internet tutorials, or seeing how someone draws a nose or a jawline and copying them, or watching speedpaints on youtube and learning what the hell an overlay layer was from that. like sure i've learned a lot of my ability from a few studies and experiments, but my perspective rules? colour theory? shape language? i only knew to study and experiment with those Because of all the tutorials i've seen. the second-most given art advice (beyond "practice") is "see what your favourite artist is doing and pick out what you like about their style!" and! idk! there's something so beautiful about how we're all strangers, but there's so much community in the art community? there's so so many strangers who took time out of their own lives to make flesh clouds or anatomy guides or explain perspective rules, and I wouldn't be where i am today without them. i cannot explain how grateful i am to those people, and how happy i am that so many people fucking. share. sometimes i think about a rose drawing tutorial made by some 15 yo that i watched when i was 12. it was pretty basic im not gonna lie, but i drew roses like that for years. I still draw roses like that when i want to spent a little extra time on them. i saw some artist talking about using thin lines so they'd have to get better with their linework rather than relying on the juicy thick lines, and i copied them and can now wield linewidth like a beast (when. i want to . which is not often). i've watched so many speedpaints that render skin in so many different ways that its all boiled down to the one method i use. neck width. hair physics. hair shine or lack thereof. eyes, pupils, mouth. fucking noses and the million variations. clothes???? idk i am like 100% rambling at this point but it's so fuckin nice to look at my art and see the ways i've been shaped by the kindness of other people
#mishapen rambles#i am completely incoherent tonight and thus it is Text Wall time#i bet id be really good at writing an essay rn im so fuckin verbose#anyway this is why i LOVE it when people talk about their creative processes#do you create things? want to talk about it? PLEASE DO#there are people who will see it and will learn from it#even if youre 'not good enough' i swear 12 yo me beginning artist baby would have had no idea how to spot a single one of the mistakes#you're agonized by. again ive now surpassed the skill of that rose tutorial but i still think about it a lot and how i couldnt see any erro#it's stunning to show a non-artist a piece you're not happy with and they're just. amazed#i once drew a real Shit Pile worthy face in front of my dad and one of his work friends and they were blown away by how fast i made it#idk just hey here's a love letter to everyone who shares anything about their creative process#ilu you're doing great and are a vertebrae in the backbone of this community#this all goes for writing too but the circulated writing tricks seem to be. trendified? more often than art tips#hey fun fact you can use 'said' as many fuckin times as you want i prommy#you don't always need whatever big fancy phrase or detailed description#if it hurts to write just don't write it#you will get so much farther with two sentences than a three paragraph slog#this mishapen dear is full of too much love for the creative community and all the people who never knew her but still taught her
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As much as antis and such are a problem, I have to admit that when I was in elementary school I read Candle Cove and somehow became convinced that I would commit murder as a result of it(????) so when I think about that I start to kind of see where they’re coming from? Especially since when I was in middleschool things got so bad that I wanted to do so.
Of course, I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be typing this now if I had; the only human I ever got close to killing was myself, and that was at my darkest moments where I was suffering from horrific and untreated chronic pain, the source of which went undiagnosed so long that it is a miracle that I can walk
#the disk horse#tragic backstory#tb tagged#the disc horse#I somehow made my personality definable as ‘Rick Sanchez’ a year before the pilot was first aired#and I dread to think about how I would have acted if I had watched the show. I had a lot of misandry at the time so I probably wouldn’t’ve#when I tried to bully or insult people things got too complex and no one got the insult#and the one time I complimented someone (in an admittedly creepy way but I was an egg still presenting as female#so that neutralizes part of it; I called her ears ‘elven’#this was taken as an insult based off of a misinterpretation of it as ‘Alvin’#like the chipmunk.#if I wanted to bs shit I would say that American society glorifies violence with war and stuff#but that’s fully self-serving; people generally know that killing is wrong; I knew it was wrong and that was why I didn’t do it#even when I was in middle school and wanted everyone to die#but this doesn’t even need the charity of ‘the us has some fucked up places and cultures and maybe these people grew up in them’#kids are weird and fucked up because we live in a toxic world#and anyone young enough to be influenced into doing something by consuming a piece of media#should not be consuming that media. but there are a lot of ducked up headspaces where you can develop some kind of weird OCD about it
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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT
hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.
while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.
i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously
lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU.
unfortunately i will also have to decline.
the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.
sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.
this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.
but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.
regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?
without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.
to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?
so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’
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could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep
this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have
Masterlist
Oblivious
Dick Grayson
The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.
Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.
"What are you doing here?"
The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Where is he?"
You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.
"He's grocery shopping."
"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.
Jason Todd
A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.
You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.
"What are you doing in my house?"
The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.
"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."
"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."
Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.
Tim Drake
Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.
After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.
You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.
The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.
In your bathroom.
"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"
"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.
"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."
"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."
"You never told me that," you say.
"It's a recent thing. Sorry."
You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.
Damian Wayne
"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."
Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.
When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.
You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.
Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.
"Oh. Oh."
It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.
It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.
#batfamily x reader#damian wayne x reader#batfam#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#tim drake x reader
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I went to a restaurant with a friend yesterday and upon entering we saw these splendid blueberry tarts under bell jars on the counter and we made jokey small talk with the waitress like oh, people will fight over these if there's not enough for everyone, it'll tear families apart, are you making more later? and she said no, I'm afraid that's our entire stock for today, but there are 18 slices, it should be plenty! It was a small village restaurant with only one menu du jour so there weren't any other dessert options but they don't usually get that many customers—but then a couple of large groups arrived and most people noticed the tarts like we did, and went ohh blueberry tart, it's been a while, I can't wait, and it became clear that when we'd get to the end of our meal there would be winners and losers in the blueberry tart rush
But later as we were about to order dessert I wasn't hungry anymore and I was like well that's too bad but someone else will be glad to get 'my' slice of tart—and my friend said yeah, me :) You should order it anyway, I'll eat both! At first I thought she was joking, but no. I said, there's not enough for everyone, you can't take two, and she said, we were going to order two slices, what difference does it make? and I was baffled that she couldn't see the ethical difference between two people eating one slice of tart each vs. one person eating two, when there's a limited quantity of tart. I felt like we were in a simplistic social justice metaphor it was so obvious, but there was no changing her mind. When I said "it's just... not nice" she said "okay" with a shrug, and what can you say to that. She added, you don't know any of these people and I was like, why are we reverting to tribal dynamics in a non-apocalyptic setting, how would you feel if we'd arrived a bit later and seen others ordering two desserts knowing you'd get zero? And she said, I would think that's their right, and I felt kind of amazed.
I pointed out that if she didn't think it was a wee bit wrong, she wouldn't ask me to order her second piece as if it was for me, and she said yeah maybe we don't need to do that, there's no law preventing me from ordering two desserts. What about Kant's categorical imperative Okay I guess you're not breaking any laws by taking more than your fair share of a thing other people also want, just failing a kindergarten-level morality test. I felt embarrassed for sounding like an annoying preachy rigid person so I dropped the issue, and as she ate her two slices she'd smile at me every time we overheard someone order coffee without dessert—like "See? There'll be enough, no one will be deprived of tart because of me!" as if that cancelled the fact that she didn't care in the first place. I guess it was one of these tiny issues that can still significantly alter the way you perceive a person. I tried to tell myself not to be so bothered about this small thing but I was! so bothered. And I felt like writing a letter to some agony aunt like "should I end a friendship over irreconcilable blueberry tart ethics"
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new beginnings
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.
Word Count: 2.2k+
Masterlist
part two :)
✰ ✰ ✰
“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest.
“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”
Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been.
“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked.
A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”
Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.”
You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”
Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”
You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”
Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”
You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.”
Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”
“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”
Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”
You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”
She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.”
You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo.
But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again.
“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”
“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.”
You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.”
You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed.
She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”
You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped.
✰ ✰ ✰
“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug.
Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you.
Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”
Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny.
“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”
“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”
You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”
They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food.
“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you.
Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly.
“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).”
“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.
Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend.
“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.”
You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued.
“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”
Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door.
Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you.
“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.
“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”
Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him.
You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship.
“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”
Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”
Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”
You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”
Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”
You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person.
Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you.
“Oi!”
Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo.
“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo.
“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face. “Theo, what are you doing?”
He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”
“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”
You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps.
“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?”
You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly.
“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”
You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.”
“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.”
He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?”
Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall.
You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo.
He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained.
“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant.
Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”
Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup.
You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”
He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”
“Why? You broke up with me.”
Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”
You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”
“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”
Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”
He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”
“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested.
“You wanna be my friend?”
“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.”
Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.
“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.”
#AW SNAP#THERES ONE FROM THAT PROMPT LIST#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott x reader#harry potter#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#enzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire#ron weasly x reader#george weasley#fred weasly x reader#cedric diggory x reader
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most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.
i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.
sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.
repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.
but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.
it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.
i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.
my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.
back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.
hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.
it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page:
outside it is sunset and
my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy
out of his left paw.
or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.
the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.
i love you, keep going.
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Cumming Home for Christmas
synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?
content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2
word count: 3.7k
notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.
Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.
Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.
It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.
Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.
But I digress.
Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.
Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.
You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.
That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.
Good girl.
You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.
The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.
Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.
You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.
“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.
He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.
It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.
Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.
You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.
“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.
“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.
He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.
His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.
Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.
But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.
“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.
With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.
A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.
“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”
You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.
A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.
Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.
Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.
Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.
That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.
Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.
“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump. 
Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.
“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.
You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”
“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”
You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.
“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.
“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.
“My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.
He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.
“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.
Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.
He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.
The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.
Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.
You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.
He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.
He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.
He didn’t deserve you.
Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.
You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”
He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.
You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.
“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”
Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.
You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.
You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.
You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.
Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.
Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.
#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost Riley#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost smut#ghost
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of course other women want your boyfriend
pairing: nanami kento x reader
tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.
"your dad's kinda hot."
the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.
you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.
no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.
and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.
"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.
her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"
you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.
"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"
"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.
"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.
that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.
"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"
"there you are, sweetheart."
kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.
nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.
almost.
"ken!" you breathe.
"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"
"hey!"
his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"
"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.
"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"
"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.
"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.
"sweetheart, i think- "
you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.
"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"
"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.
"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."
she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.
kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.
"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"
aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.
you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.
"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."
his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.
deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.
kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.
"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."
warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.
"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.
aiko!
you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"
aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.
DO NOT REPOST
yay first fic!!!
likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷
#nanami x reader#nanami#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#nanami fluff#kento nanami fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk drabbles#yves tells you a story ✩🕯₊˚.📖⋆🌙⋆⁺₊✧
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Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:
We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.
Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.
We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!
We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.
And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.
If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:
What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?
What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?
What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?
All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.
Because this is an asymmetric problem:
If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.
If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!
You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.
And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.
The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.
Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.
If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.
If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.
This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".
But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).
So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).
But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.
Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.
We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.
My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"
Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"
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