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empoleon · 11 months

Text

stranger things have happened

• rated m, one shot, 3088 words

• also available to read here

Wolfwood is humming something against the fabric of Vash’s shirt—his shirt, because Vash has taken to wearing his articles of clothing as of late—when Vash speaks up.

“They like that,” he says softly, tilting his head back with a smile.

Wolfwood pauses, lips ghosting a kiss near the spot where he was singing. “’S just something I heard a long time ago.”

From the orphanage, but it goes unspoken. Vash is fairly certain it’s in Wolfwood’s mother tongue as well, but he doesn’t comment on it—bringing that up now would probably embarrass him enough to stop and Vash certainly doesn’t want that.

They're in bed together at some rundown inn—traveling too much with Vash in his current state puts a bit of a strain on both of them, so it’s easier if they make frequent stops. They just need to be careful. They have to be careful.

Wolfwood would never forgive himself if something happened to—

It’s almost unnerving to feel the faintest movement touch the skin of his cheek, stopping his train of thought immediately. It’s such a brief feeling and he almost questions if it actually happened, but Vash beats him to it.

“Nick, did you—?”

“Yeah,” Wolfwood glances up at him, unable to hide the awe in his voice. “He moved.”

150 years. A century and a half, and Vash did not know about this.

To be fair, there is a lot about himself that he isn’t aware of, either purposely brushing it off as a one-off occurrence or simply refusing to acknowledge it.

Plant anatomy wasn’t something he was keen to learn about. He understood his basic, primal needs and that was that.

Humans, on the other hand…

Cross-species breeding simply never came to mind. And even if it did, Vash was far too busy enjoying the feeling of Wolfwood on top of him, holding him close, whispering things he longed to hear—knowing that each spoken word was true—he loves you, all of you, every single piece of your being, every scar and blemish branded from God himself.

(He loves you.)

“Oi, blondie—you want to tell me why you dragged me out here again?”

The dim lighting in the old saloon feels suitable at this moment, one of the lights flickering idly. It’s noisy, overcrowded and Vash almost reconsiders his priorities.

“How ’bout a drink first?”

It’s not something Wolfwood refuses, but he eyes the glass of water that is placed on their shared table. It’s murky in color, with a few specks of dirt swirling around, but it’s better than what they have seen in the previous towns.

Wolfwood grabs his own glass, filled with a smooth amber tinge. “So,” he takes a swig and licks his lips. “What’s wrong?”

Vash wants to laugh. Leave it to Wolfwood to get straight to the point.

“Nothing! Well, mostly nothing,“ Vash gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know how it is.”

Except Wolfwood doesn’t know, with the way Vash keeps skirting around the topic at hand.

The alcohol in his system is beginning to warm him up, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Vash is about to say something unimaginable. It worries him.

There’s a ruckus outside the saloon that quickly enters through the double swing doors, men shouting unintelligible things—words like ‘bounty’ and ‘where is he?’ are all that Wolfwood needs to hear before he downs the rest of his drink and roughly grabs Vash by the arm.

“Hey, wait—I didn’t get to finish my drink!” Vash whines dramatically as he stumbles to his feet. One of the men arguing with another patron glances over towards them and Wolfwood curses.

“Damn it! Will you shut it?” He swivels around and pulls Vash into a corner of the saloon, trying to obscure the view of the humanoid typhoon from any onlookers. Miraculously, it works.

The commotion dies down after the barkeep threatens to drain the tap and close up for the evening. Those who initially caused the uproar either slip back out into the night or decide it’s time for a drink.

Vash really wishes he could have one right now, too. The water on the table may not taste great, but his throat has never felt so dry.

His arms find their way around Wolfwood’s waist, and he holds him there for a moment, in the corner of that saloon. The lights flicker again.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Guess he likes my voice,” Wolfwood smooths a hand against the swell of Vash’s belly.

“He?” Vash can’t hide the curiosity in his voice at the word, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”

“Spikey, there is absolutely no way in hell you’re giving me a daughter,” Wolfwood states it so seriously that Vash starts to laugh. “I mean it. My heart won’t be able to take it.”

When he finally manages to tell Wolfwood what has been ailing him, he isn’t entirely sure what to expect, reaction wise.

Yelling or swearing? An average response, perhaps the best possible outcome, especially when it comes to the man Vash has known for so many years now. Calling him names falls under this category as well.

What he didn’t expect was the silence, or Wolfwood’s cigarette falling out of his mouth a second later.

“You’re—”

Vash nods, unable to say anything else. It’s hard to meet those dark eyes that are glued to his body.

“And it’s…” Wolfwood trails off, motioning to himself.

Another nod.

There’s a long pause before everything goes back to normal—whatever that actually is, Vash isn’t certain, but it feels like he can breathe again once Wolfwood regains his senses and finally says more than a few words.

“I thought you said we didn’t need to use condoms!” Wolfwood exclaims. “I asked you three times!”

Three separate times, in fact. Vash groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, we don’t need to—we’ve never had—I didn’t think this was possible,” he settles on saying, because it’s true.

This was purely impossible, and yet somehow, after 150 years, his body finally decided it was time.

“With how often we fuck, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner,” Wolfwood mutters.

He’s not wrong, as embarrassing as it is to think about it.

“So…” Vash wrings his hands together, eyes flickering between Wolfwood and the cigarette that has long since been forgotten on the ground. He moves his boot to step on it, putting it out.

“So,” Wolfwood parrots, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Are you okay? With all of this, I mean.”

“Me?” Vash blinks, confused. “I guess so, I was mostly worried about—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Wolfwood reaches over and pulls Vash into an embrace.

“Save it, blondie,” he says quietly. “You and I both know I’m fine with kids.” Wolfwood is also not wrong about that.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Are you okay with this? Is this what you want?

“I—yeah,” Vash lets out a shaky breath. “I really am.” He wraps his arms around Wolfwood’s neck and buries his face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Nick.”

For everything.

A daughter… she would look just like you, Nick, Vash thinks to himself while Wolfwood continues to argue with him—with their child. And she would act like you, too.

“I don’t need two needle-noggins in my life,” he says sternly, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “So please inherit some damn common sense—”

“I have plenty of common sense,” Vash interrupts him. “For example—”

Wolfwood scoots his hand up underneath Vash’s t-shirt and squeezes the warm skin of Vash’s hip with a rough hand, eliciting a yelp out of him.

“Don’t say another word,” he grumbles, “unless you want me to knock more of that so-called sense into you.”

Vash’s smile is everything devious in nature. “I would love to see you try.”

The first time Wolfwood sees just how different Vash is as far as humans go, he’s equal parts aroused and surprised.

“You really weren’t kidding,” he says while trailing a finger across the inner part of Vash’s upper thigh, tracing a scar that mars the skin there. It stops just short of what he could only describe as thin, petal-like folds, tightly wound and—quivering? “This is pretty freaky, spikey.”

“Don’t tease me,” Vash all but huffs as his body is out on display for him. One too many drinks later and they find themselves in yet another unfamiliar, yet all too recognizable inn bedroom.

It was easy for both of them to make it to this point—they always, always do, but this time it is different. It’s edging closer to something that neither one of them can turn away from.

Wolfwood grins at him. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

“Can you—y-yes, right there,” Vash’s calves tighten around Wolfwood’s shoulders instinctively, hands gripping the bed sheets beneath him.

“Easy, Vash,” Wolfwood is a little breathless when he pulls back, a hand trailing along the metal of his prosthetic. “Digging into my neck a bit there.”

Vash almost immediately tries to sit up, looking extremely concerned. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

Wolfwood carefully presses a hand to Vash’s lower abdomen, stopping him. “It’s fine, sweetheart,” he licks his lips. “Lie back down.”

His legs loosen a bit, this time more mindful of Wolfwood’s fleshy shoulders. Vash had insisted on leaving his prosthetics on, enjoying being able to anchor himself against his lover.

Wolfwood continues where he left off, nose brushing the inner, wetter petals that are waiting for him, taking in Vash’s scent with a soft inhale.

He flicks his tongue across them, watching as they unfurl and invite him into something far greater.

“Nick—” Vash arches his back with a groan. “More, I—”

“More what?” Wolfwood murmurs it against the opening of his slit, lips finding their way around the swell of a small bud that is nestled between it. “Full sentences.”

“More, please,” Vash’s voice trembles, “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Language, sweetheart,” Wolfwood presses a kiss to the bud, nips at it gently with his teeth and proceeds to curl his tongue around it.

He sucks long and slow, far too slow for Vash’s liking, evident in the way he hears another groan come from him.

Vash’s hand reaches for Wolfwood’s hair, tugging as he rocks his hips closer.

“Oh, Nick,” he gasps this time and Wolfwood is certain that he’s close, noticing how the room begins to glow a touch brighter.

Seeing those intricate patterns spark to life across various parts of Vash’s body ignites something truly deep within Wolfwood, far deeper than any spoken word of some higher being he could imagine.

They dance across scarred legs, skipping over pieces of well worn beryl-infused metal, trailing up Vash’s torso, his neck—

Vash shudders when he comes, fingers flexing into Wolfwood’s hair, purposefully forcing the man to stay put between his legs.

Not that Wolfwood would have ever minded.

He laps up everything that Vash gives to him and tries to coax out even more with his mouth, relishing the sweet taste that hits his tongue.

“Still with me, darlin’?” Wolfwood breaks away from him with a quiet gasp. He brings a hand up to his lips and wipes at it, grinning.

“Uh-huh,” is the only coherent response he gets, Vash’s body going limp with bliss. “’S good, Nick, you’re so good.”

“Preaching to the choir, I see,” Wolfwood runs a hand up Vash’s thigh, tracing along the intricate plant markings and noting how they shimmer brighter with each touch. “Let’s see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

“How did the appointment go?” Wolfwood eventually asks, moving up to settle beside Vash. “Did Brad ask about—”

“The feathers,” Vash nods and sighs quite dramatically. “It was going so well, too, but then I sneezed and everything just,” he lifted up both his hands and spread his fingers, metal and flesh flexing wide, “Exploded?”

“Exploded?” Wolfwood can’t help but laugh. “Our child is already a menace, I can't believe it.”

One morning Vash had awoken to small, downy feathers attempting to sprout from his shoulders and forearm—the last time that happened, any time that happened, actually, was when they—

Well. Vash definitely didn’t relay that information to Brad, but he didn’t try to hide any of his bodily changes when he went for his most recent checkup.

Luida suspected it had something to do with the pregnancy—that energy, a life, now being constantly generated from within him. He was bound to have some… interesting side effects.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Vash says after a moment. “You should’ve seen the look on Brad's face when it happened though, or the room,” he pauses and glances at Wolfwood with a smile. “Completely covered in feathers.”

Wolfwood snakes an arm across Vash’s chest, moving to rest his head on his shoulder. “Bet he loved that,” he closes his eyes. “Glad everything went smoothly, blondie. I should be able to come next time.”

Vash turns his head and presses a kiss to Wolfwood’s hair. “Luida would like that. She’s been dying to see you again, you know.”

“More like dying to have someone help out around the ship,” Wolfwood sighs, but there’s no malice in his tone. “Say, next time we visit…” he lowers his hand down Vash’s chest, stopping pointedly at his stomach. “They’ll be able to tell us what the little sprout is, yeah?”

Vash’s small intake of breath doesn’t go by unnoticed and it causes Wolfwood to sit up, getting a better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Well—” Vash starts to say, but closes his mouth promptly.

“Wait,” Wolfwood reaches over to the side of the bed and suddenly the room is illuminated by the warm glow from the lamp. “Vash, don’t tell me you—” he glances back over at him and studies his face for a moment in silence. Vash desperately wishes Wolfwood wasn’t so damn good at reading him for once.

“You already know, don’t you?”

Vash groans and brings a hand up to his face. “It was an accident, Luida brought it up before I could stop her. I’m so sorry, Nick.”

Wolfwood exhales and slumps back against the pillows. “Unbelievable.”

Vash attempts to roll over to face him, being on his back for so long starting to become a bit uncomfortable. “Nick?”

Silence.

“Nicholas,” Vash pouts—he definitely has no right to do so, but he can’t help it. “I can just tell you, would that make it better?”

“No,” Wolfwood sighs. “I still want it to be a surprise.”

“I can act surprised when she tells us!” Vash says with enthusiasm. Wolfwood gives him a withering look. “No? Okay, okay,” he frowns, “it was worth a shot, though.”

“You are a complete needle-noggin idiot, you know that?” Wolfwood reaches over to flick Vash’s head. “And… it’s all right, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Wolfwood stresses the fact with a poke to Vash’s cheek. “I can wait a few more weeks. You better not bring it up on accident, though, or else—”

“I won’t! I promise, scout’s honor!”

Wolfwood is a lazy kisser—Vash used to tease him for it, but it wasn’t as though he was much better—or had any practice.

And they really did have the time now for these sorts of things.

He sighs as Wolfwood peppers a trail of kisses up his chest, taking his time with each scar and meld of flesh and metal his lips come past.

“Nicholas,” Vash’s voice is light, full of warmth. “I thought you said— oh!”

Wolfwood captured his mouth with ease, stopping whatever teasing comment that was about to be said.

His lips are chapped, but still somehow soft, warm—Vash has half a mind to point that out, but Wolfwood won’t allow it with the way his mouth is working.

Vash gives in and sighs into the kiss, tugs him closer, prosthetic fingers raking through Wolfwood’s hair. It’s enough of an incentive to keep going, by any means.

Even if there is shouting outside the inn bedroom’s window, or the ringing of a few gunshots sounding off in the lingering desert air.

Vash breaks the kiss to turn his head, ignoring how Wolfwood sets his aim for his throat.

“Should we go—mmh,” Vash tries to suppress a moan, unsuccessfully, “check that out?”

Wolfwood pauses, lips lingering near Vash’s collarbone. “During the middle of this?”

He has a point.

And to further express said point, Wolfwood slowly rocks his hips along Vash’s thighs.

“You’re right,” and Vash can’t believe he’s saying it with a smile on his face, one that Wolfwood can’t see from this angle, but knows that the man can feel.

The whole room is lighting up, after all.

“It can wait,” Vash decides, and Wolfwood takes him.

One minute of silence passes between them, and then two.

“Okay, I can’t do this,” Wolfwood rolls over to face Vash. “’M not going to be able to sleep unless I know.”

Vash is unable to restrain himself from laughing. “Really? Surely there’s something in your good book about rewarding patience.”

“Always be humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love,” Wolfwood recalls the passage in a low voice. “I think I’ve been pretty gentle lately, all things considered.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vash agrees, amused. “Not so humble, though. Might need some brushing up on that.”

Wolfwood slides a bit closer to Vash. “Good thing we’ll have some down time for the next couple of months then—I could use some practice.”

“I happen to know an excellent teacher,” Vash says. He feels Wolfwood snake an arm across underneath the blankets, reaching for his shoulder to pull Vash in an embrace.

“If you say Brad, I swear to fucking God—”

Vash’s huff of laughter is the only response Wolfwood gets before a pale hand beckons him closer.

Even in the now-quiet of the room, Vash’s whisper to his ear is perhaps the softest thing Wolfwood has heard in a very long time.

He can’t help his too sudden reply, his own voice on the verge of cracking. “Really?”

Vash nods. “Yes, really.”

And if Wolfwood hid his face in the crook of Vash’s neck, eyes filled with a dampness that threatened to spill over and unable to say anything else except a murmured ‘thank you’—

It was enough.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #fanfic #fic #texte #my writing #hewwo friends long time no motherfuckin see am i right LOL #man. wow. it has really been a hot minute since i've last wrote something #trigun kinda took over my brain (not complaining tho)#i don't really have many pals who are into the series atm so i'm just yodeling into a void by myself tbh #anyway i posted this to ao3 the other day and figured i should cross post it here too #title is unabashedly from the foo fighters and yes it's in my wv playlist #nobody asked but i'm saying that much #these 2 guys r so fucking!!!!!!! TRAGIC #i just want them to have a family. god bless the plantussy #ok i am going now perhaps i will return? with more fics? we shall see #love & peace 2 u all <3

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searidings · 2 years

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What season was current when you started watching SG?

i was waaaaay late to this clown convention bro 5a was airing as i was catching up on five years of lesbians!!!

#so. so. i first watched s1 when it came out in 2015 #and i liked it but like. there was no lena yet so i wasn't HOOKED hooked #i know you wouldn't know it now but believe it or not superheroes are generally really Not My Thing #and then once lena arrived i kept seeing fruity stuff about them on tumblr as the great lesbian migration commenced once more #but i avoided the brain rot for years until i finally saw one sexy post too many and thought shit maybe i should give it another go #also because hello like. katie and mel are fucking gorgeous #so this was late 2019 when i started watching the whole thing from the beginning to catch up #and i distinctly remember winter 2019 seeing that clip of 5a kara at mount norquay and lena turning off the cannons at the last second #that clip was going around on tumblr while i was like just starting s3 and i remember thinking holy fuck #however gay they are now (s3) it's clearly only going to get gayer #and i was RIGHT #anyway. so i was all caught up to the present by the time 5a finished and ive watched it live ever since the 5b premiere!!!#so since the beginning of 2020 ive really been IN this clown car you feel me #never really wrote fic though #but then the pandemic hit and everything shut down and these two fruits had me in a chokehold and lo and behold #my ao3 account was born #and that's what you missed on glee #so i have not been here since the beginning but by god i'm here till the bitter end #hope you're having a wonderful day #asks #anonymous

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schrijverr · 4 months

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It Just Hits Different When It’s Batman

5 times a League member heard Batman use slang + 1 time they knew where the fuck he got it from.

This fic is based off this post by @wednesday-if-it-was-tuesday bc it was just too good! Hope you don't mind :D

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~~

1. Flash

Barry is pretty sure he has to get his hearing checked as he speeds through a city, trying to find a series of bombs, courtesy of a new alliance of villains. He and Batman are on bomb duty, thus sharing a private com line as to not distract the others or be distracted as they coordinate.

However, Barry is very much distracted by his own partner in this whole mess, because unless he’s gotten a few too many hits to the head in recent years, he’s pretty sure Batman just reported: “The bombs look like yassified thermos flasks.”

“What?” Barry chokes, nearly tripping over his own feet as he does.

Batman doesn’t seem to notice, instead explaining the bomb, not his wording: “The casing looks to be made from plastic, likely to escape Superman’s notice. Start checking water pipes, I found this one near a toilet. I’ll report again once I figure out how to disarm it.”

Okay, questing his sanity later, finding bombs, now.

So he zooms off again, having to agree with the fact that the bomb does look like a yassified thermos flask. He wonders if he can use that in his report or if Batman will scold him for language. He has worked with the man for long enough that he knows Batman isn’t above hypocrisy.

Then he wonders again if he even heard it right. In the heat of battle, the brain sometimes does weird things, especially when someone thinks at the speed of light. Or faster.

He’ll put it out of his mind for now, maybe tell Hal about it just so he’ll have someone to share the bizarre experience with.

Clark probably has a thesaurus, he should probably also find a synonym for yassified. Does a thesaurus have slang too?

2. Green Lantern

It’s true that Barry had told him about Spooky saying yassified in that one battle, but Hal hadn’t truly believed that Bats was capable of something like that. I mean, look at him. The guy might be a weirdo who dresses up as a Bat, but he’s not a weirdo who says shit like yassified.

However, at the moment it is starting to look more and more likely. Fuck, Barry is gonna give him so much crap for not believing him.

The moment in question is Batman working with him on the stealth mission. It’s one for the Green Lantern Corps, so Batman is doing him a favor. Though Hal is starting to wish that he hadn’t done him that favor, because Batman has just said: “It looks like Luthor is being thristy for Superman again. For someone who hates the guy, he sure wants his attention a lot. That’s Kryptonian honing device.”

Hal doesn’t react, still thinking about the fact that he’s just heard Luthor, thirsty and Superman in one sentence. In Batman’s voice no less.

“What?” he says.

“A Kryptonian honing device,” Batman repeats, sounding as if he thinks Hal is stupid, not uncommon. “So he can hone in on Superman, find him. Something we need to do something about.”

Hal decides to take the smart way out and lets the whole thing drop in favor of focusing on the mission. He’s not just telling Barry, but Ollie about this as well.

3. Cyborg

Being in the Justice League isn’t much different than being on the Teen Titans. Like right now, being in a building that could explode at any moment unless he hacks into the system and stops that from happening.

Ah, good old life-threatening pressure.

Batman is fighting some of the goons in the background. They’re on their own here, with the others fighting through an army outside to get to them. But it’s mostly up to them. Batman yells: “Cyborg, status.”

“I’m getting through, but something is bugging me about this whole thing,” Victor calls back. “I think there is someone I’m missing that will allow me to crack this.”

There are a few grunts in the background as Batman fights on, while Victor starts to scan through everyone who worked for the organization, trying to find the missing link.

He is interrupted by Batman, who says: “I took a tour here once. There was an intern, Kyle Paulson, he was kind of sus. Look him up.”

For a second, Victor is thrown by the sus in that sentence, but he quickly focuses back on what’s important. Indeed finding Kyle to be the missing link that gets him to disarm the bomb. While Batman is taking out the last of the bad guys.

In fact, the whole thing slips his mind until he’s writing his mission report, going through the footage to get accurate information in there. Then he pauses again, before dismissing it. Those who trained under Batman are always prepared, maybe it’s not slang but shorthand to be useful in the moment. Or he’s trying to include him, sweet, though unnecessary.

Victor puts it out of his mind.

4. Green Arrow

Ollie doesn’t believe Barry or Hal for a second. Like, really? Batman using slang that the sidekicks are using?

Sure, Nightwing sometimes uses some here and there, but Red Robin is always very professional and Robin is closer to a Shakespearean actor than a TikTok teen. There isn’t anyone else he could have gotten it from and it doesn’t make sense with his whole ‘I am the Night’-persona.

Victor suggested it was to make the newbies more comfortable when he overheard them talking, but that’s even more ridiculous in Ollie’s opinion.

So, he’s not at all in the slightest prepared for Batman’s reaction when he shows him the new arrows he developed. Because Batman’s reaction is: “Hm, serves cunt.”

“Excuse me, what?” Ollie says, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

Batman just stares at him, then in a confused sort of voice goes: “You know, it slays? It’s, you know, good? Positive.”

“Huh, what? No, I- I know what that means. How the fuck do you know?” Ollie splutters.

“I’m Batman,” is all he says. Then he walks away and leaves Ollie to stand there, still frozen in time, because what the hell was that? Batman can’t just do that, can he? That’s illegal. How does he even know that?

What Ollie doesn’t know, is that this was a calculated move. Bruce had overheard the three talking as well and decided to have a little fun. All the times before, it just slipped out in the heat of battle, but this one was purposeful.

Bruce knows Ollie would know what it meant, because billionaires Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen have done TikTok trends in the past and try to keep up to date, despite their age. Not that Ollie knows it’s him under there.

And last gala, he left Bruce for the wolves – Vicky Vale – so now Bruce is dealing psychological damage to him as petty revenge.

5. Superman (and Practically the Entire League)

They’re in a meeting with most of the Justice League members that are present on earth at the moment. It’s not often they hold such meetings, since they are a little overwhelming and tend to drag on more than be productive.

However, Clark thinks it’s important to ensure there are avenues through which ever member can state their piece and be heard. So, here they are again.

Booster Gold is complaining about always being on the sidelines and never in the heat of the action, even though he’s a great hero. He’s claiming that there is a bias against younger heroes, despite the fact that the ‘old guard’ will have to give it up eventually.

Apparently, Batman has had enough, because he gets up and snaps: “We don’t have bias based on age, we have one based off skill. Maybe if you stopped abandoning your post and being someone reliable, you might get put out in the field more often. Now stop being salty about it.”

It’s silent.

Clark is scrambling his brain, to figure out the meaning. As a journalist he tries to stay up to date on current language use, however, the only person he’s heard use that word is Jon. The boy never explained, but Clark guessed what it means. Doesn’t explain why Batman knows it.

Then the silence gets broken by a snort, everyone’s head whipping towards the source. It’s Nightwing, a newer addition and one affiliated with Batman himself. The only one there brave enough to laugh at Batman, mirthfully asking: “Did you actually say salty?”

There is no change on Batman’s face, but as a longtime friend, Clark knows he isn’t emotionless. Indeed, when he listens close, he can hear the blood rush to his face, blush hidden by the cowl.

“That was not the point of the sentence, Nightwing,” Batman counters, the name a little bit pointed on is tongue.

“Okay, okay,” Nightwing grins easily, showing his hands in surrender, an act which is made null by him adding: “Just pointing out that this is an official meeting. You’re on the record and you know I’m reporting this to the others.”

Red Robin and Robin, Clark fills in mentally, the other two known associates. Everyone already guessed that Nightwing must be close to them as well, since the younger two are closer to being Batman’s children. Now that is confirmed.

“Thank you for reminding me,” Batman says tersely, before quickly pivoting to the next point on the agenda. No one calls him out for it.

However, just because no one calls him out on it, doesn’t mean they drop it. In the weeks after the incident, whispers make their way through the halls of the Watchtower as people speculate why or how Batman came to use the word salty and how out of character it is.

Clark can hear the gossip all over the Watchtower and he’s sure Batman is aware of it too, because some brave souls have asked about. Especially when some of the others talked about the incident not being the first one.

Batman hasn’t replied yet to any of the questions or rumors. Clark thinks he likes the mystery and chaos, likes that they don’t know why the hell he sometimes lets slang slip. Even Nightwing has been seemingly silenced, never commenting with a sort of professional ease at evasion.

Nightwing is the only clue they have, along with Robin and Red Robin, but none of them seem like the culprit.

It just doesn’t make sense and Clark can’t help but have his reporter brain itch.

+1. The Batfamily

There is going to be an attack somewhere in a major city in America tonight. They cannot figure out where, so there is a nation wide stake out at all the important places. Nearly the entire Justice League has been pulled out for it and even then they don’t have enough.

Batman insists on having a skeleton crew remain on the Watchtower in case the threat turns out to be a distraction. And when it is protested, he pulls out an army of associates none of them have ever heard about to fill out the last gaps in their observational net.

The sudden introduction of about six new Gotham vigilantes, which have apparently been operating inside the city as well as outside of it, would have been the main shock if it weren’t for how they are on coms.

Red Robin and Nightwing are known as professionals like Batman, while Robin isn’t a known entity in missions, though those who have met him, know him to be serious. However, with the introduction of the others all of that professionalism melts away.

It starts about 45 minuted into their mission when Spoiler’s voice suddenly crackles over the coms: “I fucking hate stake outs, they’re so boring.”

“I know right, my ass is starting to hurt,” Red Robin – to everyone’s surprise – replies.

“No chatter on the coms,” Batman dutifully reproaches like he always does, but he sounds less stern this time. It’s as if he knows they won’t listen, but says it because it’s his role to do so.

Red Hood ignores Batman completely, idly commenting: “I don’t know, stake outs always hit different for me.”

“That’s just because you’re boring AF,” Spoiler says, an eyeroll practically audible.

“Oi, take that back,” Red Hood says, offended. “I didn’t die to have you slander my name like that!”

This is horrifying news for most of the other people stuck on the coms, however, there is a cacophony of annoyed groans as well. Why anyone would be so blasé about someone mentioning their death, they don’t know.

Until, Robin says: “Cease mentioning your death as excuse. It’s unbecoming to be so reliant on one measly event. You’re not the only one who has died, don’t be – what was it? – ah, yes, don’t be basic, Hood.”

“Yeah, Hood, don’t be salty just because you’re becoming a boring old man,” Red Robin pipes up, sounding smug. That solves the salty mystery.

“Shut up, Replacement,” Red Hood huffs. “I can talk about my death as much as I want to and you can’t stop me.”

“Hood, please, stop talking about your death, you’re going to make B sad,” Nightwing suddenly interjects, stopping the conversation before it can get out of hand.

Those with super hearing will hear Barry mutter in a shocked manner: “Is he talking about Batman?” But he is overshadowed by most of the newly introduced (and already) known Bat-associates booing loudly.

“Don’t be a fucking suck up, Dick” Spoiler hollers, only those in the know picking up on the fact it’s his name. It’s the only time Batman won’t correct them, because not everyone will know it’s a name unless it’s pointed out.

“Periodt,” the quiet voice of Black Bat supports Spoiler.

“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, BB,” Spoiler cheers when she hears the other girl.

“That was the correct usage?” Black Bat asks.

“It was, well done,” Oracle’s kind voice comes over the coms, from where she is in her lair helping with coordination.

After that it all quiets down again for about half an hour, then Bluebird breaks the quiet again, complaining: “I can’t believe I had to stay behind in Gotham of all places.”

“You live there. Willingly,” Signal answers. “And I had to stay behind too, you know.”

“They’re sleeping on us, Signal, be upset with me,” Bluebird exclaims, indignantly.

“Okay, but tea though,” Spoiler says, most of the Justice League listening in are starting to learn she likes stirring the pot a little.

“Don’t be a simp, Spoils,” Red Robin says.

“Oh, look who’s talking about being a simp,” Red Hood snorts loudly. “I observed you, loser boy, you’re the simp.”

“It’s not as much of the serve you think it is to admit to stalking me,” Red Robin deadpans.

“RR, not to be that bitch, but you’re the OG stalker, maybe- maybe don’t do that,” Nightwing says cautiously, which is apparently funny enough that multiple people start laughing.

Meanwhile Red Robin complains: “Stop laughing at me, when I did it was totally different, I didn’t plan on killing any of you.” Which is mildly disturbing

“Oi, I never planned to actually kill you-kill you either,” Red Hood protests, even more disturbing. The Justice League is starting to wonder why Batman works with the man.

“Stop with the chatter,” Batman interjects again, before it can go further. “It’s not just us on the com lines now. At least try to be professional.”

And much to the horror of the League, who could never imagine doing such a thing, Batman gets booed. Again. This time directly.

Then to add to the horror, Batman doesn’t explode in anger, like everyone would have imagined, instead he just sighs. Defeated. Batman is like a cockroach, he doesn’t get defeated. However, these kids are managing.

Batman remains defeated too, because the Gotham vigilantes continue to idly chat all throughout the next hour. They are definitely bat associated, because they never reveal any information that could be tied to their civilian identity. Instead discussing other missions, general news, funny things they saw on patrol and personal grievances with the others on the line.

If this is what Batman deals with on the day to day, some are starting to see why he would prefer the heroes of the Justice League to keep their mouths shut on missions unless it’s important.

Most try to tune it out and focus on their own stake out, though the voices keep them awake. But they notice when Spoiler’s voice suddenly becomes serious as she reports: “Sus individuals moving towards the Mayor’s office.”

“Received, getting visual on your location,” Oracle’s voice replies, also snapped back into professionalism.

Spoiler reports their appearances and currently location, until Oracle has them, running a check on them, before confirming they have a criminal record and might be thugs for hire. Spoiler says: “I am going to move in.”

Batman says: “Do not engage, Spoiler, they could be a decoy. Try and get more information first.”

“Alright, alright,” Spoiler huffs. Then adds petulantly: “I’m not gonna do it, I was just thinking about it.”

Which sounds pretty reasonable for most listening in, who aren’t of the right age group to know the meme. Batman, however, does know, because he’s been subjected to it multiple times. So, he yells: “Spoiler, no!” startling some members.

A second later, there are sounds of a fight and Spoiler gleefully saying: “I did it.”

Batman lets out a frustrated growl, but Spoiler pays it no mind and she can’t truly get chewed out, because more and more start to report suspicious individuals moving in on the targets they’re watching.

Within minutes of it starting, Nightwing reports: “They’re decoys with targets. Not the main attack, but will do damage if they succeed.”

“Everyone make sure to take out the decoys,” Batman says. “Those without decoys, keep your eyes peeled, you might be at the real target.”

“Done with my targets, moving to help the others now,” Nightwing reports seriously, before he adds: “And can I just say that I’m the GOAT. Dibs on cookies for finishing first.”

“Okay, shade much,” Bluebird says.

“Don’t be arrogant, it’s unbecoming,” Robin retorts as well.

“Yeah, stop flexing,” Spoiler adds. “I’ve wrapped up too, by the way. You’re not special.”

“Let me have this,” Nightwing complains. “You already took all my shit, let me be cool. You all used to think I was cool.”

“Yeah, used to,” Red Hood scoffs. “Then we all realized you’re a looser.”

“Ha, get wrecked,” Red Robin snorts.

“Baby bird, wasn’t I your favorite?” Nightwing asks hurt, though over the top enough to show he is faking it.

“No, sadly, that was Hood,” Red Robin replies, sounding a little like he’s grimacing.

“No cap?” Red Hood asks, surprised.

“No cap,” Red Robin confirms.

“Now I feel kind of bad for you,” Red Hood says, before some bullets are fired. “Wrapped up here, moving to help.”

Red Robin seems glad to not have to reply and none of the other Gothamites do either. With what the League has heard so far, they’re also kind of happy the topic is being dropped, unsure what to think.

Batman’s associates are among the first ones cleaning up, however, soon others are joining them and the true battles grounds – yes, there are multiple targets, these people are organized (Batman will likely obsess until he has tracked down their organization afterwards) – are discovered and heroes move in to fight them.

Throughout the battle, everyone catches snippets of this strange, newly introduced group. A group, who works well together, like an oiled machine, yet obviously made up of highly competent parts that can act on their own as well.

Like Black Bat calling out: “Red Hood, yeet,” before those fighting alongside them see Red Hood boost her into the air, so she can come flying at the terrorists.

But they also make comments about the people they’re fighting and the others that are fighting alongside them.

Signal calling out: “Bluebird is pulling some sick ass moves. Another one for her on the slay-board, Oracle.”

Or Spoiler commenting: “Okay, not to be like that or whatever, but these terrorists are kind of looking snatched.”

To which Batman sighs: “Spoiler, please, no chatter,” in a vain attempt to get them under control.

“What?” Spoiler says. “I can appreciate when they’ve at least tried to pull a fit instead of that usual para-military, ninja type BS.”

“Go off,” Black Bat pipes up again and Spoiler cheers while Batman drops it. Defeated again.

They also check in on each other, with Red Robin hissing in pain, which is immediately followed by Nightwing going: “RR, you good, fam?”

“Gucci,” Red Robin replies. “Just low-key got stabbed.”

“There’s nothing low-key about getting stabbed!” Nightwing exclaims, getting called a hypocrite by many people, while Batman is already calling for Oracle to get a visual and for a medic to head Red Robin’s way.

By the time the battle is over, the Justice League understands how different the team is that Batman usually works with. If they were surrounded by heroes who talked like that continuously, they would have probably picked up some things here and there too.

Still, it fucking weird when Batman checks over his horde, before declaring: “You were all lit out there,” causing multiple of the kids around him to groan loudly, with Bluebird calling Batman a boomer.

Clark, however, sees a small uptick in Batman’s mouth. And in that moment, he knows Batman is doing it on purpose, that he’s enjoying it. That he’s fucking with them. He doesn’t know what to do with that, nor does he think that anyone will believe it. So, he decides to share the amusement and drop it.

They’re never going to figure out Batman.

A/N:

This work is going to get dated so so so fast lmao, but it’s fun rn (if ur commenting in the future, welcome to outdated slang vibes from someone who wasn’t that up to date with current slang when writing it, bc im secretly a grandpa).

Hopefully I didn’t overdo it to an unrealistic degree, but if I did, such is the story that was being told oops

Also this whole fic is just an excuse for me to write batfam banter bc I love it lmao

I didn’t include Batwing, Batwoman and Flamebird here, sorry, but writing the batfam is always so hard bc there are so many characters T-T

1K notes · View notes

berry-potchy · 9 months

Text

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“��M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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jinnie-ret · 4 months

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FIC RECS

Ok so someone in my asks box asked me for some fic recommendations and I tried to add some gradually but my asks have been so weird recently so I've had to make a new post for them!

First of all ty anonnie you words were really sweet, I hope you stay healthy too!

Also just to preface I will list sfw and nsfw recs so pls if you are a minor, do not explore the nsfw recommendations, these blogs will most likely have a mdni statement so pls respect that and don't go against that :)

Now, enjoy!

SFW

Enough for you - @mixtape-racha (poly ot8 angst comfort)

We love an angst comfort fic and this is one of my faves. Take caution reading this one and read the content warnings at the top just in case! But this one is simply amazing and I wish I wrote it the end.

The Field Trip - @dreamescapeswriting (Seungmin X reader)

Seungmin and reader are teachers in this and if you follow me you may have seen me reblog this one before bc I love it and want this, also this blog has so many imagines you will be fed for days

Warm blankets - @jiniret-writings (3 parts, hurt comfort poly ot8 x reader)

I felt so emotionally invested in this story when I read it, like I felt readers pain 😭 gorgeous

jack-in-the-box -@junicai (angst, ninth member reader)

Set in kingdom. We hate mnet. Skz are very protective and reader gets the comfort she deserves in the end, love this sm!

@hyunjinsbelovedamericano - lots of headcanons and reaction type fics on their MASTERLIST, give it a look!!

Simptober 2023 - @skz-streamer

Fluff for days!!! pookie rly worked hard on this one so go and show some love because you've got so much to read here

Skz text aus - @channiesbakery

These are so so funny I cannot cope. Also explore the other fluff posts too bc they're really cute!

More text aus - @diddybok

Same goes for this blog too, explore their other stuff!

@hannahhbahng has some rly cute fluffy reads on their masterlist

@hanjiquokkaaa check out their skz reactions! My pookie slays every time

Skz fluff fics - @wooahaes

So much fluff to pick from! I fall in love every time!

Warm milk and honey - @horanghoe (poly skz x reader)

One of my fav skz comfort fics of all time, it's so so good, recommending again bc I should

In his arms, unexpectedly yours - @cheesemonky (Hyunjin x reader series)

This is a new series which I'm excited to see my pookie write !!!

@astraysimp for dad skz!!!

Nicholas Ross - @dean-a-mean-tae (skz ninth member male oc)

Love their ninth member writings so definitely check it out if you're looking for male!oc who is the ninth!

In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you - @yangbbokari (Chan x reader)

Heartbreaking, like so angsty but it's gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous

Princess treatment with SKZ - @j-oneproduces

Each individual member x reader has a drabble and I love it so so much, very accurate imo

@skzoologist read their imagines on their ninth member oc Bae! They also have a fic called unfamiliarity using the same oc :)

I like the view - @mirisss (hybrid ot8 skz X reader)

I rly need to reread this one because I loved what I read so far on it!!!

NSFW

Rabbit hybrid reader - @authorofdanger (hybrid skz x hybrid reader)

I've linked a masterlist, I'd recommend the fic dominance and then the first few fics which are to do with reader as a rabbit hybrid! slight warning that woojin is mentioned

•

Red Moon - @lixiepeach (omegaverse series)

this is one of the first skz omegaverse fics I read and it is done so beautifully, as it says in the description of the series, it deals with more adult content than just smut, and the way it is explored is written so well, couldn't recommend highly enough!

Inked Petals and Message Tones - @leviackermanscleaningbuddy (poly smau with real life)

this is an ao3 skz fic which changed my life. I can't explain how much I love this, it had me on an emotional rollercoaster fr fr like it's amazing!

n.h.i.e mini series - @hyungszn (smut ot8 x reader)

damn this one really has me on my toes like the chapters are chefs kiss and it's such a good read!

Bold - @hyunsvngs (American footballer minsung x reader)

Wow wow wee wow. This one made my brain go brrr and evaporate and melt and wow the storyline in it is so so good too. Juno rly has such a good relationship with anonnies and moots and it's so lovely to see. A jupiter stan right here!!

Sanguis Limerence - @jl-micasea-fics (vampire skz x reader)

This is one of the first series I was fully committed to reading on this all and constantly checking. It's insanely amazing, I can't put it into words and now I wanna read it all back again 😭

waiting for us - @kkami-writes (smau poly ot8 X reader)

I'm in love with this!!! Perhaps my fav skz smau like the character development as well is really nice to see and it's an easy read if you find it easier to read it in text messages form

Anger management - @2chopsticks2eyes (minsung x reader)

This is so hot and the way the storyline progresses as well is beautiful

@1-800-shedevil I'm in awe of her and her blog. Gorgeous writer, gorgeous writing. Her posts about body positivity rly are so helpful and her words are so comforting

Sharing = caring - @cbini (ot8 X reader)

This is unbelievably good and if you haven't seen it yet? Do you even Tumblr? Love how ems has such a good relationship with moots and in answering asks too! cbinian for life

Better than revenge - @lixie-phoria (smau Jeongin x reader)

I'm so obsessed with this series so far, putting it here bc there's smut to be added in the future. But I'm in love with it so far wow!!!

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz smut #stray kids smau #stray kids smut #poly skz #skz poly #straykids ninth member #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member

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dnfao3tags · 10 months

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Finding Deleted Fics: A Multi-Method Guide

i feel like we are the fandom who needs this post the most any fandom has needed it ever.

all of these methods require you to know the title, author and/or link of the fic.

[disclaimer: the fic i am using as an example is not deleted, i just can't think of any other fics to use as an example right now.]

Method #1: Wayback Machine

this is my go to method that i always try first.

steps:

every fic on ao3 has a url of archiveofourown.org/[specific-numbers]. you're gonna need that url, doesn't matter if it doesn't work anymore.

eg.

2. now you're gonna go to archive.org and enter your url in the search bar.

3. something like this will come up. it probably won't be saved as many times though, just once or twice.

just click any of the links now, either the dates marked blue on the calendar or the earliest/latest date. that's it.

drawbacks:

often, a problem arises when searching for fics rated mature or explicit.

the site will have archived this page but not the actual fic. though, maybe lady luck is on your side and clicking proceed will lead you to a saved version of the actual fic. but usually not. and not all fics are saved here. in those cases, i have some more methods.

Method #2: Search Engine Cache

search engines like google and yandex often save a cached version of sites, though yandex is much more reliable than google. i'll give you a tutorial for both.

steps (yandex):

the link isn't completely necessary, just the title and author of the fic will suffice.

go to yandex.com and search for your fic by either entering the url or entering the title and author as such.

3. this will probably immediately come up.

just enter the captcha and it should let you in on the first go but there's a glitch i've encountered where you could be entering the captcha completely correct but for some reason the site still won't let you in. for that, you just have to keep trying again and again until eventually the site lets you in. might take more than 10 tries.

4. once you're in, search results will pop up. directly clicking them will only lead you to the not found page. what you're gonna do is hover over the box of the search result and you'll see 3 dots pop up on the right.

click those and a dropdown menu will appear. click the first option 'saved copy'.

and thats it! this is a much more efficient method especially for explicit or mature fics.

drawbacks:

for some reason, when i open yandex in google chrome, i can't see the 3 dots. i can in firefox though. don't really know what thats all about.

i'll show you how to do it with google too just in case yandex doesn't work.

steps (google):

in the url bar, type cache:[link of fic]. that's pretty much it. google doesn't have a lot of fics saved though so you'll probably get a 404 page.

Method #3: Reddit

there's a subreddit called r/DeletedFanfiction that can probably help you out. either search for the fic as it may have already been posted or req it and someone will probably get you a google drive link soon enough. u/throwthisaway11112 is my lord and savior.

afaik it's still up and running fine despite the reddit protest thing (which i recommend taking a minute to look into).

Method #4: Archive.org Database

okay, now you're gonna need a lot of memory on computer for this one. i'm not gonna even bother and try to explain it, i'll just link you to the original post. thank you once again to the anon who sent me this method!

Method #5: Fandom

if absolutely none of those methods work, you can still just send me an ask and maybe my followers or i will have a saved copy. same for any other fandom, i recommend asking around in popular fandom spaces, someone is bound to have it.

#deleted fics #kay talks #save #ao3 #internet archive #excuse my poor graphic designing #i wanted to add my photo thing #but this isnt a #fic rec #so i just slapped ao3 hacks on #decent imo #hope this helps someone out #ao3 hacks #how to ao3

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

Failed Attempts

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: An AU in which you and the men aren't dating (yet). This is about the men and their failed attempts at flirting with you and getting some alone time with you away from the others.

Note: Hello, I typed this out while I was sick, so I have no idea how this turns out. I did have a first draft at first, but then I didn't like how it was turning out, so I deleted the first draft and started a new one. Which is this one! ;v; I hope you all like it or at least find it decent. I type the entire thing while having a fever and during my midterms week 💀 Since Valentine's Day is coming up in two days, I guess this can count as one. Especially towards the end of the fic, maybe 🤔 To the new and returning readers, please remember that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of unless Childe wanting fourteen children counts.

Word Count: 10.1k

There are many times when the twenty-five men have attempted to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, but their attempts would fly over your head. Imagine trying to ask your crush out or flirt with them, only for them to stare back at you cluelessly or brush it off as any other comment. The reaction is like a kick to the gut, but in this case, a kick to the ego and pride. It’s a hilarious sight for Lumine, Paimon, and anyone who witnesses it in person. The failed attempts are entertaining for any person that sees them in person. Not only is it funny, but it’s also hard to watch.

Here you are, pinned against the wall. Childe’s arms cage you between the wall of the estate and his body. He gazes at you with intensity while you stare back at him owlishly. The look on your face is so cute that it makes Childe want to lean down and bite your cheeks. The upstairs cheeks, but the downstairs ones are good too— for the bedroom.

“So, [Y/N], what do you think about us having a future together? You, me, us living in Snezhnaya and having fourteen children?” Childe asks casually.

You look at Childe with wide eyes. “Fourteen children? I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that many children, Childe. I can barely handle twenty-five men living under the same roof as me,” you say lightheartedly.

Childe opens his mouth to reply, but the timer next to the oven chimes, startling both of you. You peek from under his arms, and your eyes light up. Before Childe had you pinned to the estate’s wall, you were baking cookies because you were craving chocolate chip cookies. And now they are done baking in the oven!

“The cookies are ready!” You said.

You duck from underneath Childe’s arms and trot over to the kitchen, grabbing oven mitts, opening the oven, and pulling out the tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafts in the air, almost making you moan at the delicious aroma. Childe is left standing there, his mouth agape, looking at you in disbelief.

Pantalone snickers and props his arm on Childe’s shoulder with a smirk. “Maybe [Y/N] doesn’t like the idea of being trapped in Snezhnaya with mini Tartaglias running around,” Pantalone teases Childe.

“I don’t blame them for avoiding Childe’s strange proposition! Sounds like a nightmare for us all! One Childe is enough already,” Scaramouche rolls his eyes, smirking at the annoyed ginger Harbinger.

Itto snorts and smirks at Childe. “Maybe they’re not interested in you, Childe. I think they might be into onis like myself,” Itto says, flipping his hair over his shoulders.

Childe makes a face at Itto, brushing Pantalone’s arm off his shoulders with an eye roll. While in the kitchen, you place the chocolate chip cookies on the cooling rack and take your oven mitts off after closing the oven. You set the timer to five minutes for the cookies to cool down, placing the timer next to the cooling rack.

You walk out of the kitchen and dust your hands on your apron. “The cookies should be ready to eat after five minutes! Although I can’t guarantee that it won’t be hot. I think it’s better to eat them fresh than eat them days after it's fresh out of the oven,” you said.

Kaeya approaches where you’re standing and stands before you. Kaeya caresses your face in his left hand, brushing the tip of his thumb against the apples of your cheek. Kaeya smiles at you and gazes at you with the softest expression you have ever seen. You look at Kaeya, breathless. Kaeya brushes a strand of hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear. Childe, Itto, Pantalone, and Scaramouche stare at Kaeya blankly. How dare Kaeya make such a suave move on you right in front of their very own eyes? Especially after Childe’s failed attempts of getting you to elope with him, move to Snezhnaya with him, and raise fourteen children together. Not that they think about it— Childe, Itto, Scaramouche, and Pantalone can see why the red-headed whine tycoon dislikes his adoptive brother so much.

“Once the cookies are done cooling down, care to eat the cookies with me in front of the fireplace? Just you and me?” Kaeya asks.

To you, Kaeya’s voice is soft and gentle. But to the other men around him, Kaeya’s voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Of course, the Calvary Captain is suave with the ladies! It’s no surprise that someone like Kaeya would be able to scare a total babe like you. Right? You stare up at Kaeya, and a big smile appears on your face.

“That sounds perfect, Kaeya! We can all sit in front of the fireplace and eat freshly baked cookies! It’s a perfect atmosphere!” You said.

Everyone almost burst out laughing. Kaeya didn’t have a strong reaction to your obliviousness. Instead, Kaeya continues to smile at you and nod. Kaeya doesn’t mind that other people will be joining the both of you in front of the fireplace, eating freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that you have baked. As long as you’re sitting next to him, he doesn’t mind having other people join you two.

Kaeya’s bottom lip juts out. “You’ll be sitting next to me, right?” Kaeya asks. He reaches for your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours.

The little display of affection causes the men in the room to go silent. Eyes narrowing, their eyes zeroed in on your and Kaeya’s laced fingers. You squeeze Kaeya’s hands and nod.

“Of course, we can sit next to each other, Kaeya! You don’t need to ask,” you reply. “Besides, I think everyone sitting around the fireplace while eating cookies would be a perfect time for us all to get to know each other more,” you said.

Itto holds his hand in the air. “What if we don’t care about the others, but we only care about you?” Itto asks.

You snort. “Itto, I think you all should care about each other regardless. Plus, since we’re all living under the same roof in the abode, it would be nice if we all got to know each other and formed a friendship,” you reply.

“What about a relationship?” Aether asks.

You stare at him and at the other men, who are all anticipating your response to Aether’s question.

“I mean, if you all want to get into a relationship with each other, go ahead!” You shrug your shoulders.

Everyone in the room either face-palmed or stared at you in disbelief. How are you this dense? Well, technically, Aether wasn’t as specific as he should be, but your response is something they did not expect.

“No, no, no, sweetheart. I think Aether meant forming a relationship with you,” Capitano says, rubbing your shoulders.

You shrug your shoulders again. “A relationship can mean anything. There are many terms for relationships,” you murmur, stroking your chin.

Kaveh slams his forehead on the table. “Dear archons! This is getting us nowhere,” Kaveh groans.

You wince at the sound of Kaveh’s forehead meeting the wooden table in front of him. The tension in the room is interrupted by the sound of the timer chiming from the kitchen. You walk to the kitchen to check on the chocolate chip cookies, leaving the men to their thoughts.

“I can’t believe that [Y/N] assumed that we wanted to date each other,” Gorou shivers, shaking his head.

Ayato sighs and rubs his temples. “I can’t tell whether they’re pretending to be oblivious about us trying to make a move on them or if they’re being serious about it,” Ayato murmurs, looking over in your direction.

“Judging by the expression on their face, I’m afraid they’re not joking around,” Diluc replies.

A few minutes later, you emerge from the kitchen with a plate of chocolate chip cookies in your hands with a big smile. You gesture for the men to follow you to the living room and set the plate of cookies down in front of the fireplace. The cookies are warm, and you broke one cookie in half in the kitchen to see how well the chocolate has melted, and it was perfect.

“The cookies turned out perfect! It’s a perfect amount of gooeyness to the melted chocolate, and it’s warm and soft,” you said.

Thoma walks up to you and drapes his arms over your shoulders. “The cookies look perfect, [Y/N]! I can never get my cookies to turn out as perfect as yours. Care to show me how to bake a cookie as perfect as yours?” Thoma asks, smiling down at you.

You smile and nod. “Of course! I’ll write down the instructions for you and give them to you tonight!” You said, grabbing a piece of cookie and biting into it.

The chocolate melts on your tongue, and the flavor bursts in your mouth, making you moan. You close your eyes with contentment and lick the chocolate from the corner of your lips. The cookie tastes heavenly, and you certainly died and went to heaven after taking a bite of the cookies. When you open your eyes, you notice that no one is eating the cookies. Instead, their eyes are focused on you, more specifically, your lips.

“What? Is there something on my lips?” You ask, feeling around your lips to make sure there aren’t any crumbs sticking to your lips.

Albedo nods his head and steps forward. He cups your face in his hands, tilts your head up, and wipes the small piece of crumb near your chin. Albedo wipes a tiny bit of chocolate stain at the corner of your lip before lifting the same finger and licking the chocolate from the tip of his finger.

Albedo smiles at you. “There’s no need to worry about stains and crumbs on your face anymore, [Y/N],” he says softly.

Albedo walks back to where he was standing earlier and crossed his arms over his chest with a faint smug smirk. The men around him look at Albedo in disbelief. How can someone like Albedo make such a bold move on you? Especially when it’s in front of other people who want [Y/N] almost as much as Albedo does.

Kazuha lets out a low whistle. “How suave of you, Chief Alchemist,” Kazuha says, smiling at Albedo while gazing at the Chief Alchemist from the corner of his eyes.

“So… are we not going to eat the cookies?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. “Of course, none of you have to eat the cookies if you don’t want to! I’m not going to force any of you to eat the cookies,” you chuckle, walking over to the couch and plopping down on it.

Baizhu leans to Al Haitham and whispers, “Did Albedo’s action not affect [Y/N]?”

“I’m not entirely sure. [Y/N] is hard to read,” Al Haitham mutters.

Heizou grabs a chocolate chip cookie and sits on the couch beside you, looking over at Kaeya with a smirk on his face. Kaeya stares at Heizou with his eyebrows raised, a humorless smirk appearing on Kaeya’s face. Heizou taps your shoulder and motions for you to rest your head on his shoulders.

“If you need a shoulder to lean on, you can always lean on my shoulders. Only someone as special as you can lean on my shoulders,” says Heizou, shooting you a charming smile.

Without a second thought, you happily lean your head on Heizou’s shoulders while taking a bite of your cookie. You look at Kaeya and reach your hand out, making grabby motions with your hands. Kaeya feels his face heat up before walking over to you. Kaeya sits beside you, pulls you onto his lap, and reaches for a chocolate chip cookie to snack on while the men are glaring daggers at him.

“You’re really comfortable,” you murmur, snuggling into his arms after finishing your chocolate chip cookie.

Tighnari purses his lips. “I will not eat a chocolate chip cookie unless [Y/N] gets off of Kaeya’s lap,” Tighnari comments, sticking his nose up in the air with a huff.

Cyno raises his eyebrows at Tighnari. “Well, that’s an unusual thing for you to say, Tighnari. I can see Childe be the one to make a comment like that, but you?” Cyno asks.

Pierro rolls his eyes. “Not only is it unusual, but it’s also childish coming from someone of his caliber,” Pierro looks at Tighnari from head to toe with an eyebrow raised.

A few minutes later, you end up getting off of Kaeya’s lap and walking back to the kitchen to grab a glass cup of milk. The cookie would taste even better with milk, so why not get some milk to drink with your chocolate chip cookie? When you walk back to the living room, everyone is already standing, and the cookies are missing from the plate. You look at the men and notice that their cheeks are stuffed.

You point at the plate and back at the men in front of you. “Did you all eat the cookies while I was gone?” You ask.

Venti quickly chews the chocolate chip cookie in his mouth and nods. “Yes! The cookies are delicious! We couldn’t help ourselves and decided to eat them,” Venti clears his throat after almost choking on a piece of crumb.

A big smile appears on your face after hearing what Venti said. “That’s great! What do you guys think of the cookies? Anything I need to change or improve on?” You ask.

Xiao shakes his head. “There’s nothing you need to change. The cookie is perfect, just the way it is. The same goes for you,” says Xiao.

Xiao hears a faint chuckle coming from behind him. Xiao’s head snaps towards the person’s direction, and he sees Dottore chuckling behind his hand while standing beside Pantalone, who is also chuckling.

“The Yaksha flirting with [Y/N]? How precious,” Dottore coos, giving Xiao a teasing grin.

Zhongli gives Dottore a disapproving look and shakes his head. “Dottore, I wouldn’t be speaking if I were you. Xiao has a subtle way of complimenting someone without being overbearing like someone in this room,” Zhongli says, turning to look at Dottore.

The corner of Zhongli’s lips quirked up when Dottore’s smile slipped off his face. Dottore narrows his eyes at Zhongli and rolls his eyes, looking away from the ex-archon with his arms crossing over his chest.

“Should I make more cookies?” You mutter, staring at the plate intently.

Dainsleif smiles at you. “That is up to you. Do you have enough ingredients for extra batches of cookies?” Dainsleif asks.

You puckered your lips and sighed. “I don’t think I do, but that’s okay! I can make more cookies next time!” You said.

You look at Dainsleif and notice that he has tiny little crumbs at the corner of his lips. You place your cup of milk down on the table before walking over to where he’s standing. You stand on the tip of your toes and wipe the crumbs away.

You look at Dainsleif through your eyelashes. “There were crumbs from the cookies at the corner of your lips. I had to wipe it away,” you murmur. “Although you look cute with cookie crumbs at the corner of your lips.” You giggle.

Dainsleif stares down at you, his cheeks bright pink. You give him a small smile and let your hand fall to your side. You turn and see the others looking at you and Dainsleif with a blank stare; all of them have crumbs at the corners of their lips.

Heizou points to his face. “I have crumbs on my face too. Care to wipe them away for me?” Heizou asks, flashing his pearly whites at you.

You snort and playfully roll your eyes. You walk up to Heizou and dust the crumbs from the corner of Heizou’s lips and cheek. Without saying a word, the men all line up behind Heizou, waiting for you to wipe the chocolate chip cookie crumbs off their faces.

After Childe and Kaeya’s failed attempts at flirting with you, everyone assumes that you are either not interested or they just suck at flirting. Your stay at the estate continues to be peaceful, albeit a little bit awkward, because of the tension between the men and their unspoken competition to see who can ask you out first. While the men have been trying to flirt with you, you see their comments as them showing that they care about you and how attentive they are to you.

One way the men showed that they care about you is when that one time when you fell ill and couldn’t get out of bed because of how fatigued you felt and how weak your limbs were. You woke up one day and could barely open your eyes. All you wanted to do was to sleep in and do nothing at all but sleep.

Your eyes crack open to the sound of knocking coming from your bedroom door. You roll over on your side and keep your eyes close, snuggling up against your blanket and pillow, feeling yourself drift off to sleep. You’re woken up by the sound of a knock coming from behind your door.

You swallow your saliva, feeling it slide down your severely dry throat, causing you to wince. “Yes?” You call out weakly.

You almost didn’t recognize your voice because of how scratchy and dry your throat feels. You clear your throat and weakly reach over to your nightstand for a glass cup of water. You sit up and pour water from the pitcher into the glass cup. The door to your bedroom cracks open, and several men peek into your room and see you chugging the water as if you haven’t drunk anything in days.

After drinking an entire cup of water, you put the cup down on your nightstand and wipe the water from your lips. Even though you chugged a whole cup of water, your throat continues to feel dry and scratchy.

“You don’t look too good, sweetheart,” Gorou frowns.

You smile at him weakly. “I don’t feel well either, Gorou,” you reply.

You clear your throat and plop down on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Baizhu and Dottore push past the men and rush over to your bed. Baizhu and Dottore look down at you. You look like you’re about to pass out at any minute. You have dark circles underneath your eyes, your skin feels cold and clammy when Baizhu presses the back of his hand against your forehead, and your neck feels almost hot.

Dottore frowns and caresses your face in his hands. “Oh, sweetheart. It looks like you have a cold,” Dottore whispers, tucking your hair behind your ears and wiping the sweat from your forehead.

“Stay in bed, alright? We’ll get you medication, and Thoma will make you some soup to eat,” says Baizhu; he turns to look at the blond.

Thoma nods and quickly rushes out of your bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen to make some soup for you to eat. Baizhu and Dottore leave your side and walks to the infirmary in the estate, leaving you under the care of the other men. Diluc walks over to your bed and sits at the edge, watching you slowly get under the blankets, pulling it up to your chin.

Diluc leans down and presses his lips against your forehead, catching you and the others off guard. Diluc slowly pulls away and brushes the strands of your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“Get well soon for us, alright? We don’t like seeing you sick,” Diluc murmurs, brushing his thumb against your flushed cheeks.

You pout and attempt to poke his cheek in return, but you feel so weak that your hand falls onto the bed halfway. Diluc’s gaze softens, and he reaches for your hand, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t know how I got sick. Maybe it’s my lack of sleep that got me sick,” you murmur, curling up into a fetal position and gazing at Diluc with bleary eyes.

Al Haitham leans against the doorway. “Have you been around anyone that’s sick? None of us are sick,” Al Haitham gestures to everyone in the room with an eyebrow raised.

You shake your head. “I don’t think so, but then again, I’ve always had a weak immune system. Unfortunately, having a weak immune system makes me vulnerable to many illnesses and diseases,” you reply.

“Oh no,” Tighnari breathes, rubbing his temples with a sigh.

Kaveh points at you. “So, what you’re telling us is that we should put you in some kind of a bubble to protect you from all kinds of sicknesses, got it.”

You snort and nod, clutching tightly onto your soft blanket. “Yes, Kaveh. That is correct,” you murmur.

Aether looks like he is about to burst into tears; seeing you sick and in this condition worries him a lot. You mentioned that you have a weak immune system means that you’re very vulnerable and are susceptible to getting sick easily. Aether doesn’t want to see you suffer and be bedridden because your immune system isn’t strong enough to fight off many diseases and illnesses. Aether walks to you and sits across from Diluc, close to your thighs.

Aether leans down and rests his head on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Please get well soon. I want you to be healthy, happy, and with me,” Aether looks up at you with a small pout on his face.

You chuckle and run your fingers through his soft blonde hair. “Aether, I’m always with you and the others. I hope I can recover from this cold because it’s a pain in the ass to be sick,” you murmur, pinching his cheek lightly.

Aether pouts after seeing that you didn’t know what he had implied earlier. The sound of stifled snickers fills your bedroom. Aether narrows his eyes and slowly turns to the group of men by your door, hiding their grins behind their hands.

“Another failed attempt, but this time, it’s by Aether,” Venti whispers to Xiao, hiding his snickers behind his hand.

Xiao rolls his eyes, looking away from the bard while biting back a smile that threatens to appear on his face. Aether gets off of you and walks over to the two anemo vision wielders, scrunching his face up at them. A few minutes later, Baizhu and Dottore walk into your room with medicine in their hands and a surgical mask for you to wear while you’re sick.

Thoma enters the room a few minutes later with a tray of food in his hands, setting the tray down in front of you after you sit up on the bed. The aroma of the soup made your stomach rumble with hunger. You place a cloth napkin over your lap while Diluc holds your hair back, adjusting it so your hair wouldn’t fall into your soup while you eat.

“You should take your medicine after eating because the medicine might make your stomach feel queasy when you take it on an empty stomach,” says Thoma.

You nod. “You’re right, Thoma. Especially when it’s a liquid medicine for a cold,” you murmur, holding the medicine bottle up to your face and reading the words. “Are these the type to be taken during the day, or is it the one that will knock me out cold?” You ask, looking up at Baizhu and Dottore.

“Since when are there two different kinds of cold medicines?” Scaramouche asks, walking over to where you’re sitting and taking the bottle from your hands.

“One type of cold medicine is taken during the day, the other is for the night because it should help you sleep through the night without waking up to a coughing fit,” replies Ayato.

“Which is what happened to me last night,” you sigh, eating the porridge that Thoma cooked for you. “I feel like I got run over by a sumpter beast,” you grumble.

“You look like you got run over by one too, but that doesn’t take away from your beauty, snookums!” Childe says, trotting over to you with a smile on his face.

Dainsleif rolls his eyes. “What a charmer. Is this how you land the first date with [Y/N]?” Dainsleif asks Childe, the corner of his lips quirking up into a smirk.

Childe stops in his tracks, turns around, and stares at Dainsleif with his mouth agape. You’re too busy eating your food to notice the tension growing between Childe and Dainsleif. You suddenly drop the spoon in the bowl and reach for the cloth napkin on your lap and sneeze into it.

“How heavy is the dose of medicine? I need it to knock me out cold,” you sniffled.

Albedo grabs the medicine bottle from Scaramouche’s hand and looks at the label. The bottle didn’t have a specific label on how strong the medicine was, but what it did have were instructions on how much a certain age group should take.

Albedo holds the bottle out in front of you and shows the instruction to you. “It didn’t specify how strong the medicine is going to be for your sickness, but it does have dosage on how much you should take. Since you’re an adult, it’s best to take the highest dosage every five hours,” Albedo says, pointing at the top of the mini chart.

Your face pinches up, and you reluctantly grab the bottle from his hands. “Alright, I will take these after I’m done eating,” you grumble before continuing to eat your breakfast (or is it lunch?).

After finishing your bowl of soup, you take the tiny plastic cup off the bottle and place it on the food tray in front of you. You attempt to twist the cap open, only to fail. You stare at the bottle before squeezing the sides of the lid and turning it. You let out a frustrated huff of breath and put the bottle on the food tray, glaring at it. Either you’re weak from your sickness, or you’re dumb.

“What’s the matter?” Kazuha asks.

You grab the bottle and try to open the lid, failing once again. You let out an annoyed groan and nearly slam it on the food tray.

“I can’t open it,” you grumble, looking over at the twenty-five men with a deep frown on your face. “It’s a new bottle too! I swear, I followed the instructions, and I still can’t open the dang bottle,” you groused.

Without saying a word, Xiao walks over to you, takes the bottle from your hand, and inspects it for a moment before twisting the cap open with ease. He hands you the lid and bottle, staring at you.

“You were supposed to squeeze the side of the bottle,” Xiao says.

You stare at Xiao in shock and grab the bottle and lid from his hands. “I did do that! It also said to press down on the lid, pinch the sides, and twist the cap,” you explain.

Xiao gives you an odd look. “You don’t need to press down on the lid. You just squeeze the side of the lid and twist it open,” replies Xiao.

Xiao takes the bottle from your hand, closes the bottle with the lid, and demonstrates how he opened the bottle. You stare at Xiao’s hands, watching him twist the bottle open with ease. You try to do the same, only to fail.

“That bottle has favoritism,” you accuse, pushing the bottle away from you with a glare.

A few seconds after pushing the bottle away from you, you grab the bottle, mimic what Xiao did, and successfully open the bottle. You let out a slow sigh, shaking your head. You pour the liquid medicine into the small measuring bottle for the appropriate measurement. After getting the perfect measurement of the liquid medicine, you close the bottle and down the liquid medication. The taste of the medication was something you had never tasted before. It’s disgusting, but you know that if you want to get well soon, you need to take it.

You force yourself to swallow the medication and reach for the water pitcher and the glass cup, pouring water into the cup and chugging the water. Once you have emptied the glass cup, you put the pitcher and cup down on your nightstand; violent shivers rack your body.

Your face pinches up with disgust. “That tastes disgusting,” you shiver, shaking your head.

Cyno shrugs and chuckles. “Hey, it’s medicine. Medicine isn’t supposed to taste appetizing like candy,” says Cyno.

Dottore and Baizhu take the liquid medicine from your hands while Thoma takes the food tray and napkin off your lap. You want to lay down on your bed, but you think you should let your food and medication settle down in your stomach before lying down. Or else there’s a possible chance that the food and medicine will come back up.

“Are you not going to go back to sleep?” Pantalone asks.

You shake your head. “Not yet. I’m letting everything settle down in my stomach first before going back to sleep. Other than that, have any of you eaten anything?” You ask.

“We ate already. We assumed you were going to come downstairs for breakfast, but you never came down,” replies Capitano.

You give Capitano a weak smile and run your fingers through your hair. “I was so tired that I could barely get out of bed. I didn’t even notice that I slept in until I woke up to the sound of knocking at my door,” you said.

“When you’re feeling healthy again, what do you think about joining me in having lunch or dinner at the Liuli Pavilion?” Zhongli asks, sitting down beside you and caressing your face in his hands.

Your eyes light up, and you nod eagerly. “Ooh! I would love to, Zhongli! I just hope I heal soon because dining at Liuli Pavilion sounds amazing right now, even though I just ate,” you said.

Zhongli smiles and strokes the apples of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. Zhongli looks at the others from the corners of his eyes, a faint smirk appearing on his face. The men shoot a glare in Zhongli’s direction after seeing a smug smile on the former archon’s face.

Pierro clears his throat. “I heard that Liuli Pavilion serves a lot of food for their customers. If it’s just you and Zhongli going alone, would you two be able to finish all of that food? I think everyone should be able to tag along as well,” Pierro says gruffly.

You blink at Pierro and look at Zhongli, who seems displeased. You shrug and rub the back of your neck awkwardly. You have gone to Liuli Pavilion before, but it was never alone with Zhongli or anyone else that lives in the abode. You think they only bring out a certain amount of food if you ordered certain food on the menu.

“I mean, Zhongli did invite me. I think it should be up to him to make that decision,” you murmur, looking at Zhongli through your lashes.

Zhongli stares at you, then look over at the men, who are giving him puppy dog eyes and mischievous smiles. Zhongli rolls his eyes and sighs through his nose, rubbing his temples. If Zhongli declines, it will make him look bad. If he agrees, then he wouldn’t get to have some alone time with you away from the others. It’s a lose-lose situation for the former archon either way.

“If the others are free and have nothing on their schedule, then they can join us, dearest. If they’re unable to join us, then it’ll be just you and me at Liuli Pavilion,” Zhongli answers, squeezing your hand gently.

You turn to look at the men. “Zhongli says it's up to all of you whether you guys want to join Zhongli and me or not,” you said.

“We’ll clear our schedule when the day comes,” Pierro states.

The men behind Pierro nod their heads in agreement. While you give them small smiles and prepare to take another nap, Zhongli is giving the men a not-so-subtle glare. Some of the men collectively smile at Zhongli innocently, while others give Zhongli a smug grin at Zhongli’s irritation at not being able to spend time alone with you.

After you have found a comfortable position to lie down and sleep, Zhongli presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. You smile up at Zhongli and caress his face in your hand. Zhongli places his hand over yours and closes his eyes with contentment. Feeling a sneeze coming up, you pull your hand from Zhongli’s face and sneeze into your elbow twice.

“Alright, little one, you need to go to sleep now. If you don’t get enough sleep, your body won’t be able to fight off the illness,” Dottore says, smiling at you at the entrance of your room.

You feel Zhongli press one last kiss on your hot forehead before getting off your bed and walking over to your bedroom door. The others soon follow behind Zhongli: they all give you forehead kisses before leaving your bedroom to let you sleep in peace.

A few weeks later, it was Venti’s turn to attempt to flirt with you. The anemo archon has a stack of ballads prepared just for this very special day. He is excited to perform for you and impress you with the poems that he has created. You have always been the source of his inspiration, and he cannot wait to showcase something special with you.

You’re laying on a hammock outside of the estate under the trees. The wind rocks the hammock back and forth while you look at the early afternoon sky through the orange leaves. You stretch and let out a groan, feeling a satisfying pop. You hear a soft melody flow in the wind, making you prop yourself up on your arms and search for where the melody is coming from.

You see Venti strolling up to your hammock while gently strumming his lyre. Venti smiles at you and stops next to your hammock. You sit up and hug the pillow against your chest, looking at the bard curiously.

“Care to listen to a few ballads of mine? Just to let you know, you’re the source of my inspiration,” Venti says, winking at you.

You feel your face heat up. “I would love to listen to your ballads, Venti!” You chirp.

You scoot over to the left and pat the empty spot next to you on the hammock. Venti gracefully lifts himself onto the hammock, sitting beside you. Venti clears his throat and adjusts his lyre in his hands. Venti begins strumming the lyre, the soft melody filling the quiet air between you two. Venti starts humming and swaying to the song. He looks up at you and gives you the sweetest smile.

Before Venti could sing, the strings of the lyre snapped. Venti gasps in horror and looks at the lyre, freaking out about how he is going to fix the lyre before the other men start to butt into your and his quiet space. You and Venti hear a slow clap coming from a distance, looking up to see the men walking toward you and Venti.

“What a performance of a lifetime, Barbatos,” Kaeya chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Venti gives the twenty-four men a fake smile before turning to you with a fake laugh, the apples of his cheeks almost as red as Diluc’s hair.

You look at Venti and his lyre worriedly. “It’s okay if you’re not able to perform for me, Venti. You can perform for me any time!” You reach for Venti’s hand and squeeze it gently.

Venti looks defeated; if he had dog ears, they would be flat on his head while giving you puppy dog eyes. You give Venti a sympathetic smile and pull him into a hug, catching him and the others off guard.

“When you get the strings fixed, come to my room, and you can play all of the ballads you like,” you murmur into his ears, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I’ll be expecting your visitation, Barbatos,” you stroke his hair.

Venti audibly gulps, pulling away from your hug with a red face. A big smile breaks out on Venti’s face, and he nods his head eagerly, planting a big kiss on your cheeks before scrambling out of the hammock to get the lyre fixed as soon as possible. Sure, he can fix it by snapping his fingers, but the look on the other men’s faces is scary, and he needs to disappear for a few hours.

“So much for ruining the moment between [Y/N] and Venti,” Itto mutters, crossing his arms over his chest with a frustrated sigh.

Childe nods. “Yeah, no kidding. Instead of ruining their moment together, we pushed them together. And now Venti will be showing up to [Y/N]’s bedroom after he gets his lyre fixed,” Childe grumbles, kicking the dirt beneath his foot like an angry toddler.

“It would be a shame if we walk into [Y/N]’s room before the performance starts,” Aether shrugs his shoulders.

If you think the men walking in on your and Venti’s supposed quiet moment, imagine the men insisting on keeping you company while you’re in the hot springs. Butt naked. You dip your hair into the hot water and wring the water out, leaning against the walls of the hot spring with a sigh, feeling your muscles relax.

The sound of water running in the hot springs is interrupted by the sound of chatter approaching the bathhouse in the abode. Your eyes shoot open, and you sink into the water until the water reaches your chin, your arms over your chest to preserve your modesty. The doors to the bathhouse open, and the men walk into the hotspring. All are shirtless, wearing towels around their waist. The towels hung low at their hips; the towels looked like they could slip off at any moment.

“Oh, [Y/N]! What a pleasant surprise to see you here at the bathhouse!” Pantalone says casually, smiling at you as he stops in front of the hot spring you’re currently sitting in.

You couldn’t tell if your face was feeling hot because of the temperature in the bathhouse or if it was because of the twenty-five shirtless (almost naked men) in front of you. You audibly gulp and give them a wary smile, continuing to keep most of your body submerged in the waters.

You laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t think all of you would be coming to the bathhouse at the same time that I do,” you say, keeping your arms pressed against your chest.

“Oh? Are we not allowed to visit the bathhouse while you’re here?” Capitano asks, propping his hands on his hips.

Your eyes trail over Capitano’s bare chest. His chest was littered with scars, fresh and old scars. His pecks are definitely bigger than Al Haitham and Itto’s pecks. But they don’t compare to Pierro’s pecks. Your face gradually becomes hotter, making you sink further into the water. You look away from them after seeing knowing smirks on their faces.

“No, no! You can visit the bathhouse whenever! But uh, there are empty hot springs over there,” you point over to the hot spring three feet away from where yours is located.

Kaveh huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “What if we want to keep you company in the same hot spring?” Kaveh asks, raising his eyebrows at you with an overly exaggerated frown.

“Then you can keep me company from a distance! Just not in the same hot spring as me,” you reply as you point over at the hot spring three feet away from you.

There’s no way in hell you’re going to let these men sit in the same hot springs as you. All of you are naked, and you don’t want people to see you naked. Heck, you never looked at yourself naked in the mirror before! These men have great physiques, and you have seen them shirtless plenty of times before, but have you seen them naked before? That is something you won’t be talking about right now.

“Alright, but that won’t stop us from coming over to talk to you,” Tighnari says, patting your head as he walks to the nearest hot spring.

You shut your eyes and cover your face with your hands when you hear towels dropping to the ground and splashes of water coming from the hot spring near yours. You assume that everyone has gotten into the hot spring a few feet from yours and uncover your eyes. You look around for your towel and nearly cry when you realize that your towel is hanging on the wall five feet from where you’re at. You sink into the water, feeling shame and embarrassment for leaving your towel there because you’re unaware that the men are going to join you at the bathhouse. You continue to press yourself against the wall of the hot spring, praying that no one will approach the hot spring you’re sitting in. You’re not in the mood to talk to anyone because everyone is naked, and you don’t want to see anyone’s bare asses (that’s a lie, you do, but let’s pretend that you don’t), nor do you want them to see your bare ass.

“Are you okay, [Y/N]?” You hear Gorou call out to you.

You turn your head and see Gorou looking at you curiously, his head peeking from the edge of the hot spring. You give Gorou a fake smile and nod. You might as well pretend that you’re okay, or else they’ll approach you while naked. If you continue to stay, who knows what’s going to happen?

You clear your throat. “I’m fine, Gorou! I, uh, I’m trying to relax in the hot spring,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“You know, going to the hot spring alone isn’t fun. It’s too quiet, and it feels a little bit lonely, don’t you think?” Heizou asks, resting his arms on the edge of the hot spring.

You nod. “That is true, but sometimes, it’s nice to have some alone time for yourself. It’s a good way to clear your mind and relax,” you say.

You push yourself away from the wall of the hot spring before fully submerging in the water. You emerge from the water and push your hair out of your face, wiping the water from your face while keeping most of your body hidden in the water.

“You look lonely over there. Doesn’t [Y/N] look lonely over there, Thoma?” Ayato asks, peeking over at you from where he’s sitting before glancing at the blond man beside him.

Thoma peeks at you and nods. “Yes, they look quite lonely over there, my Lord,” Thoma agrees.

You narrow your eyes at the men and slowly sink into the water up to your chin. “What do you guys have in mind?” You drawled out.

“Oh, nothing you need to worry about! We’re just commenting on how lonely it must be over there. If you do feel lonely, you can always come over here and join us all, or let us keep you company over there,” Baizhu says, leaning back in the hot spring.

“I’m actually going to leave the bathhouse very soon,” you reply, internally panicking about how you’re going to leave the bathhouse without the others seeing you butt-ass naked.

With your towel hanging far from the springs, there’s no way the others wouldn’t see your bare ass when you hop out of the hot spring and run to the towel. Plus, running isn’t permitted in the bathhouse because that is a hazard waiting to happen. You’re not going to risk slipping and cracking your skull open in the bathhouse in front of everyone with your bits on full display.

“Oh? You’re leaving so soon,” Albedo says, frowning while slicking his hair back.

You laugh nervously. “I have been here for a while. My fingers are starting to get pruney,” you said, holding up your hand to show the men your wrinkly fingertips.

“You can still hang out with us while wearing a towel. We’ll make sure that everyone behaves,” Kazuha says, turning to look at the men with a look.

You point at the towel on the wall. “I would get my towel, but the towel is far, and I don’t want to leave the hot spring to grab the towel,” you said, puckering your lips.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I got this,” Scaramouche says.

Scaramouche uses his anemo vision, ignoring the look the other anemo users shot in his direction. Despite Scaramouche possessing both an anemo and electro vision, he uses his anemo vision the most and his electro vision to zap those around him. You grab your towel that was hovering in the air and gesture for the men to turn around or shield their eyes. The men turn around and cover their eyes.

You get out of the hot spring and wrap the towel around your body. Once you have tightened the towel around your body, you let the men know you’re covered. The men uncover their eyes and motion for you to walk to where they’re sitting. While walking over to the hot spring where they’re relaxing, you wring the water out of your hair and grab an extra towel on the towel rack and wrap your hair in the towel, letting it sit on your head.

“Are you free three days from now?” Al Haitham asks, watching you dip your legs into the hot spring.

You pause and contemplate. Three days from now? What day will that be?

“I think so? I don’t think I have anything planned that day other than going to school….” You murmur, tightening your grip on the towel around your body. “Why?” You ask, looking at Al Haitham quizzically.

“He’s just wondering if you’re free on a Tuesday, that’s all,” Cyno interjects, shooting Al Haitham a not-so-subtle glare.

Al Haitham glares back at Cyno and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his bare chest. You look away after finding yourself staring at Al Haitham’s chest. You clear your throat shyly and shrug your shoulders.

“Well, I don’t think I have anything planned that day. I should be free,” you said, trying to distract yourself from the naked men in front of you.

Diluc nods. “Good, then that settles then,” Diluc states.

“Settles what?” You ask.

“You’ll know when the time comes. For now, we can’t tell you what it is,” Dainsleif says, slicking his hair back.

You scrunch your face at Dainsleif’s response and the men’s vagueness. “Aw! You guys are no fun for not telling me what you guys have in store,” you huff.

Pantalone chuckles and squeezes your calf under the water. “You’ll see when the time comes, sweetheart,” Pantalone says.

Fast forward to a few days later, you’re out in Mondstadt buying flowers to plant in the abode. Recently, you have decided that you wanted the abode to have a garden. To be more specific, you wanted the other floating island (next to where the estates are located) to be full of flowers from all over Teyvat. It would be nice to sit in a field full of flowers from different regions, and why not start doing it now?

Plus, the men gave you this idea earlier in the morning and sent you out into the world to gather some seeds to plant these flowers in the abode. Now, what they didn’t tell you is that you can buy these seeds from Tubby. After purchasing the seeds of the flowers you’re looking for, you bid Flora goodbye before turning to leave the city. The next city you’re going to stop by is Liyue. When you’re about to leave the city of Mondstadt, Diluc, and Kaeya walk up to you.

“Oh, Diluc and Kaeya! What are you two doing here?” You ask, placing the small packet of flower seeds into your bag.

“We’re here to keep you company, if you don’t mind,” Kaeya says, smiling at you.

Your eyes light up. “Of course, I don’t mind! I’m about to leave for Liyue to buy flower seeds! I’m thinking glaze lilies, silk flowers, and violetgrass,” you said, pulling your small notepad out from your bag.

“Instead of silk flowers, why not go for Qingxin instead?” Diluc asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

You purse your lips and sigh. “You know, I would do that, but I already placed my order for glaze lilies, silk flowers, and violetgrass,” you sulk.

Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile before pulling you into his arms, stroking your hair, and pressing his lips on the top of your head. Diluc crosses his arms over his chest, looking unamused after seeing the display of affection between you and Kaeya. Kaeya smirks, and Diluc turns and walks off with you in his arms. Diluc rolls his eyes and follows the two of you, pulling you out of Kaeya’s arms.

While you, Diluc, and Kaeya are in Liyue, the men are scrambling around the abode, making sure things are going well and according to plan. So far, everything has been going smoothly. The flowers are arriving on time, and so are the decorations. Diluc and Kaeya are instructed to return to the estate while you’re in Sumeru, picking up the last order you have placed for Sumeru roses and Padisarahs. Their main goal is to keep you distracted and out of the abode until you have picked up every last order of the flower seeds from the four nations.

“You don’t think [Y/N] is going to return to the abode so soon, do you?” Venti asks Dainsleif nervously.

Dainsleif shakes his head. “I don’t think they are. If they were to return to the abode earlier than expected, then everything should be fine,” Dainsleif says.

“Exactly! Plus, things have been sailing smoothly, and arriving earlier than expected. It’s fine because we don’t know when [Y/N] will return to the abode with the flower seeds they have ordered from four different nations,” Aether says, fixing his shirt and smoothing out the creases.

“Was it necessary to have [Y/N] run around Teyvat to buy flower seeds when they can buy them from Tubby?” Heizou asks, pointing at the teapot spirit.

Cyno walks into the estate, holding a vase of Sumeru roses. “For today, yes. It’s necessary,” Cyno replies.

“What if they’re allergic to some of the flowers that are being brought into the estate?” Itto asks, poking the Sumeru rose when Cyno walks past him.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes and fixes the sleeve of his blazer. “They’re not from this world, Itto. I don’t think they would want to have a large garden if they were allergic to the flowers we’re bringing into the abode,” Al Haitham mutters.

“Nor would we send them out into Teyvat with Diluc and Kaeya to buy flower seeds,” Kaveh interjects, giving Itto a look.

Back on Teyvat, you, Diluc, and Kaeya step into Sumeru. You smell the fresh air and tuck the flower seeds into your bag. Sumeru is your last destination, and you can’t wait to go back to the abode and start planning how you want the garden to be arranged. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have a large dome for the separate island or let the flowers be fully exposed to the abode’s sunlight.

You walk to the flower shop in Sumeru with Diluc and Kaeya by your side, checking off the items on your list. You made sure to choose around two to three flowers from each nation. You’re mainly choosing the flowers the men have recommended for you to get. That includes an amakumo fruit, and you’re not entirely sure why they wanted you to pick the amakumo fruit, but you did, and that is probably the last time you visit Seirai island. Needless to say, you didn’t like the atmosphere of the island, nor did you like the sound of thunder booming in the sky while you were searching for the fruit.

While you’re waiting for the merchant to come out from behind the shop with your order, Diluc and Kaeya informed you that they have businesses to tend to and would meet you back at the abode. You watch the two men leave before looking at the list in your hand.

“I don’t think I’ll have enough seeds to fill the floating island with flowers,” you grumble, pulling the small packets of flower seeds. “Five packets for each flower is not going to cover the entire island,” you deadpan.

“[Y/N]? I have your order here! Five packets of Sumeru Rose seeds and Padisarahs, am I correct?” The merchant asks, emerging from behind the curtains and holding up your order.

He walks toward you with a clipboard in his other hand. You give the merchant a nod, now realizing that the number of packets you have isn’t enough. The merchant has you sign the paperwork to confirm that you stopped by the flower shop and picked up the order Tighnari has placed under your name.

After signing the paper, the merchant hands your order before giving you a small note on how to take care of the flowers. You put the packet of Sumeru rose and Padisarah seeds into your bag before walking out of the shop, reading over the note the merchant wrote. To be honest, you don’t think the instruction was necessary because Tighnari has informed you that he will be showing you how to care for the flowers.

“Back to the abode I go,” you said.

The abode is located in the small corner of Sumeru City, tucked away from the public eye. Only you and the men know where the teapot is placed. You yawn and stretch your arms. You stand in front of the teapot and let it whisk you home. Once you have entered the teapot, you walk to the estate and stop in your tracks almost immediately when you notice the entrance to the main estate is wide open.

“Did someone forget to close the door?” You mutter.

You adjust the straps of your bag on your shoulder and jog to the entrance. When you enter the estate and close the door behind you, you notice the interior of the estate is very pink and red. Flowers are lined up against the walls of the estate; balloons are tied to the railing, and party streamers are hung from the ceiling.

“What is the occasion?” You ask, turning to the formally dressed men in front of you. “Also,” you pull the packets of flower seeds from your bag, “these are not going to cover the entire area of the floating island next door,” you said.

“[Y/N], what’s important right now? The flower seeds, or us attempting to ask you to go out with us?” Thoma asks, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You stare at Thoma blankly and at the other men. Not only are they dressed nicely, but each man is holding flowers from their respective region. Some flowers you have never seen before, but they’re beautiful. Speaking of them dressing nicely, how come they look nice and you look like you’re going on a walk?

“Are you guys trying to ask me to be your significant other, or are you guys trying to ask me to be your Valentine?” You ask, taking your bag off and setting it down on the table near the entrance.

“Uh, both?” Baizhu says.

“What’s Valentine’s Day?” Scaramouche mutters, looking at Xiao quizzically.

Xiao shrugs his shoulders in response. How in the world is he supposed to know what Valentine’s Day is?

Childe steps to the front and pulls you toward him, your chest pressing against his chest. Childe caresses your face in his hands and smiles at you.

“Do you know how hard it is to flirt with you?” Childe asks.

You blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re intelligent, but you can be a little bit dense. I think the better term for it would be oblivious,” Albedo interjects, the corners of his lips curving up.

You hold your hand up in defense. “Listen, I have never had anyone flirt with me before. Whether in this world or my world, I never flirted with anyone, nor have they flirted with me. Even if they flirt with me, I wouldn’t know how to respond because, well, I….” you trail off.

Do you have to explain to the men that you have no game? You never had a boyfriend, you never flirted with anyone, no one has ever flirted with you, and you’ve never been out on a date before, so how in the world are you supposed to be able to notice it?

“Oh, trust me, many of us have tried to flirt with you. It would either go over your head, or one of us would ruin each other’s chances of asking you out,” Ayato chuckles.

“And some of us,” Tighnari looks over at Childe, “has made it blatantly obvious too.”

Dottore pushes Childe away from you, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss on your knuckles. “What do you say, [Y/N]? Will you be my Valentine?” Dottore asks, gazing at you through his mask.

“Your Valentine?! I’m sure [Y/N] would much rather be my Valentine and not yours,” Xiao huffs, glaring at the icy-blue-haired Harbinger.

You puckered your lips, your eyebrows narrow, and you gestured to them. “I have to pick between all of you?” You ask.

“That is correct. Unless you have another thing in mind?” Zhongli raises his eyebrows at you.

“What if…. I reject all of you?” You ask jokingly.

Gorou looks at you nervously. “Please don’t. I don’t think my heart will be able to handle it,” Gorou whispers, clutching his chest.

“Well, if I can’t choose all of you, then I might as well reject all of you,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

Kazuha raises his eyebrows at you, and a small smirk appears. “You want all of us?” Kazuha asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and nod. “That’s correct. I mean, we all live in the abode together. I either take all of you for myself or none of you,” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “I know what I want, but do you know what you want?” You ask.

“Yes, we know what we want, and it’s certainly not each other,” Capitano says, earning a snort from you.

Pantalone pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Is this going to be another failed attempt of asking [Y/N] to be ours?” Pantalone murmurs to Pierro.

“Archons, I hope not,” Pierro sighs.

You shrug and look around the estate. “It won’t be a failed attempt if I get to choose all of you,” you said nonchalantly.

Heizou clasps his hands. “How about this: you will be our Valentine, and we’ll be your Valentine. None of us,” Heizou gestures to him and the other men around him, “will be a couple of any sort with each other. We date you, and you date us. We have no interest in each other. We’re only interested in you.”

You squint your eyes. “Okay, that doesn’t sound bad. But what about the jealousy? I know some of you can get jealous and possessive,” you said, giving certain men in the room a side-eye.

Dainsleif sighs. “We’ll get used to sharing you, eventually,” Dainsleif says.

“So? Will you be our Valentine? More importantly: will you be ours?” Thoma asks nervously.

“Did you hear a no?” You smile at them.

“We didn’t hear a yes,” Childe scrunches his nose at you.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, I’ll be all of your Valentines. And yes, I gladly accept being your partner,” you said.

Did that make sense? You scratch your head.

“Oh, thank archons, this isn’t one of the many failed attempts,” Aether sighs in relief, tackling you into a hug.

Tighnari bats at Aether. “Hey, move it. I want to give [Y/N] a hug, too,” Tighnari’s ears twitch with irritation.

Cyno pushes Tighnari to the side. “Then get in the back of the line and don’t cut,” Cyno retorts.

Al Haitham snorts. “How juvenile,” he mutters, gazing at Tighnari and Cyno with an amused look on his face.

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muzansfangs · 5 months

Text

You always wanted me.

Starring: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader; mention to past relationship with Sanemi;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, language, use of alcohol, drunkness, drunk sex but consensual, breeding kink, semi-public sex, mention to past relationship with Sanemi, cheating thought in past relationship;

Plot: A night in a pub and a failed date led you to drink away your sorrow. Unfortunately, the main reason behind your problems shows up and your tipsy state does not help you to keep your tongue tied. Too many shots of tequila, the man you have always wanted so ardently and a restroom were the ingredients required to make your heart burn that very night.

Author note: it is rare for me to put the author note on top of a one-shot, but in order to prevent possible drama to happen, I needed to clarify a thing: this fic is an old work of mine posted on my old Ao3 account and my old Wattpad profile. While I cannot log anymore into Ao3 for some reason, I can still log into my old Wattpad profile and I will try to gradually delete my old works as I fix and rewrite them! Do not worry and enjoy this little scrap!

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“Another one!” you slurred, slamming the empty glass on the counter before you. It was your fourth shot. You were not used to drink that much, especially in a public place. The thing was you definitely had a good reason to drink down almost a whole bottle of tequila alone. You had just been stood up by a guy you had asked out to forget about your crush.

Your real crush. Or in other terms, the reason behind the loop of failed dates you had fallen into because he was so unapproachable. You wished you could forget about him, but nothing and no one could ever take his place in your heart. Why did he have to he that kind of guy that literally ruin your rationality and the chance to enjoy the company and the small attentions other men could provide you?

Disheartened, you sighed and propped your elbows on the counter in annoyace, waiting for the barman to fill your glass once again. No matter how hard to tried to ignore him, you always found yourself back at daydreaming about his piercing orange and red eyes.

Why could you not forget about him and his dazzling smile?

Whenever someone else had a chance to pick your interest and finally make you move on, something methodically went wrong. Maybe you had been jinxed.

A small smile curved your lips, when the guy in front of you carefully slided the drink in your direction. As soon as the smile appeared, it dropped, though. Someone hastily grabbed your glass and elegantly brought it to his lips, preventing you from enjoying your feast. How dare him steal your drink in such a dreadful night?

You were about to throw a punch at that rude man, but when your head snapped towards him you gaped in shock. Blinking skeptically, you gawked and your mind went blank for several seconds. That must have been a joke.

“What the Hell?” you babbled out, rolling your eyes in despair. If bad luck had a name, it would have definitely been yours. Those combined phenomena were indeed persuading you to believe some witch had cursed you for real.

“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N! Mind if I join you? You seem pretty upset. What's happened?” Kyojuro casually asked, sitting right next to you.

“You happened! - you asserted, darting your eyes on the barman - Another one, please” you asked, or better pleaded him, folding your arms over your chest.

Now you truly were irritated. Not only he pestered your mind day and night, but he also had the audacity of stealing your drinks and clubbing in your favorite place.

The blonde man chuckled and shook his head at you “Come on, don't hold a grudge. I have actually done it on purpose. I have to confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I don't think you should drink that much, you know?” he said softly, his eyes trailing up to your face. For a second, he seemed genuinely concerned.

Kyojuro Rengoku had always had a crush on you. He would have asked you out, if Sanemi had not messed up his plans by fooling around with you. After your break-up, he had noticed some changes in your behavior. You seemed not to care about anyone anymore. It was like you were running away from feelings and Kyojuro could not stand the rumors of you sleeping around with tons of strangers to possibly fill a void in your heart. It hurt him.

He was meant for loving you, not those bottom-dwellers you occasionally spent your nights with.

“So you're a watcher now! How cute! I don't need a babysitter, I can take care of myself” you blurted out, squinting your eyes and trying your best to act cool.

Unfortunately, your body had had enough. Your vision was getting blurry. You hated to admit it, but you were actually glad he was there to watch over you, even if you wanted to rip his face to shreds.

But just like your body, your mind began to wander in the very places you were trying to keep it awat from.

You glanced at him, your heart sinking into your chest at the sight your eyes had been blessed with. Kyojuro, drink in hand, was moistening his lower lip with his tongue. He seemed to be mulling something over. Maybe, he was just offended by your arrogance, or maybe he had a date and he was regretting having approached you.

Actually, you did not care. Happy, sad, angry or thoughtful it was Kyojuro. It was him, the only one your heart desired.

Oh, the things you wanted him to do with his tongue.

It was not a good time for fantasizing, though. You clenched your jaw, reaching your hand out to grab your glass, but you lost your grip on it and the shot slipped from your hand. The liquor inevitably spilled on Kyojuro's white shirt, making him stand up in shock. You wanted to apologize, your mouth was already opened, but you gawked when you spotted the outline of his toned, chiseled chest underneath the material of his shirt.

“Uhm... I— Kyo, I'm sorry! Let me help you” you stuttered, searching for a tissue in your purse. How stupid of you.

He was soaked, how could a tissue solve his problem or make it better?

You groaned in frustration, frenetically rummaging through your bag when Kyojuro's voice stopped you.

“Wait, it's okay, really! Let's go to the restroom. The dryer might help me” he reasoned, suddenly encircling your waist and pulling you towards him. Was it real? You blushed and tried to distance yourself from him, but the only reaction you got in return, was being held even tighter.

You frowned and shot him an interrogative glance, which was returned by a bright smile “Hey, you know, I can walk without you leading me around like a toddler” you pinpointed, rolling your eyes in feigned contempt. How could you deny you loved the feeling of being in such a close proximity with him?

Kyojuro, on the other hand, sighed and pushed the door of the restroom opened to let you in first “If you were fine, we would have not had a problem now. Why do you always have to be a bitch, anyway?” he asked you, undoing the first buttons of his shirt right away.

Not even firing something back, you froze solid and turned your face to the opposite side of the room, trying to ignore the urge to contemplate the celestial vision dazzling you in the restroom of a pub. You were not capable of saying a word. Your brain was fuming.

'What the fuck, Kyojuro?! Can't you just leave?' you thought, rubbing your temples to ease the pressure a tad bit.

“I’m talking to you. Look at me” he said then. You felt his gaze boring holes on the back of your head, but you knew that facing him meant losing your self-control.

“You know, I am fine staring at the wall. Don't you—…”you tried to talk back, but Kyojuro forcefully spun you around. He was done with you and the childish attitude of your drunk self.

Your hair whipped your cheeks, as you found yourself lost into a pair of orange and red orbs scrutinizing your face. Well, that was your end.

Your lips parted and you gulped nervously at the sight before your eyes. A shirtless Kyojuro was holding both your wrists in his huge hands, your eyes travelling down his toned chest and abs. Could it be even worse? Yes, it actually could.

“I'm still waiting for an answer” he stated, arching a thick eyebrow up.

You cleared your throat and shook your head “I'm not going to give you one” you murmured. Was it really that hard to understand that your behavior was your only defense against your love for him?

After all, you had screwed up your long-lasting relationship for him.

Kyojuro stared at you for a few seconds, then he swiftly pushed your back against the wall. Your hands were easily pinned up above your head, as he towered over you in a iron grip. The message was crystal clear. He did not want you to move.

You were stunned in silence, your breath hitched, as his face was now dangerously close to your mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you breathed out, your voice betraying you. You liked this physical contact way too much to keep on fronting.

The blonde man in front of you cracked a smile “I'm trying to solve the problem once and for all. I know why you and Sanemi broke up. — he started — He told me you screamed my name, as you climaxed around him”.

He knew.

You blushed and gawked at his words. He had just thrown facts at your face. You had been exposed. Was it really necessary denying the truth any longer? No, it was not. What about your sense of shame? It was long gone, after the amount of alcohol you had gulped down. You were not even mad at Sanemi for having blabbed out your little secret. This was just above you.

You glared at Kyojuro, tilting your head to the side to contemplate his face properly. He was handsome as Hell. You wanted him and you wanted him now. You had always wanted him.

“Well then, I guess the comedy is over. I should be thankful to Sanemi for having exposed me like that. I finally can get what I wanted from the very beginning” you said, before hungrily smashing your lips against his ones.

It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, and maybe you were pretty shocked too by your boldness, but once your taste indulged on his tongue he gained courage and kissed you back.

Your tongues danced together, soft moans left your mouth, when Kyojuro inevitably began to lead the way.

You felt like you were on a burning ship, without any lifeboat you could jump in to escape your fate. Still, you did not fight for your life. You were happily embracing your destiny. You had chosen it yourself. You had broken the curse affecting you for years.

When his lips left yours, your breath was uneven but your eyes sparkled with a savage lust he could not ignore and it was enough for him to unbuckle his belt and slip his calloused hand underneath your dress.

Words were superfluous, you both needed your release. Your hunger was fuel to his burning desire. Kyojuro was usually the calm and collected guy everybody got along with. Getting to see what laid underneath that cheerful and respectful façade was sending you straight to cloud nine.

The moment his fingers made their way beneath your panties and reached your slit, he sighed and began to stroke your bundle of nerves in circluar motions “We won't need much foreplay. You are so damn wet” he whispered, drawing invisible circles on your clitoris.

You were breathless. Whimpers and whines erupted from your throat as you bucked your hips against his hand. You were such a mess he envied Sanemi for having got you before he did.

“Please, please, Kyojuro, I need you... Don't waste time” you breathed out, grinding your hips against his hand.

Hearing those words falling from your lips, the blonde man shoved two fingers into your core and slowly pumped them in and out of your entrance. You loved how dominant he was, you loved the way he seemed to ignore you and your needs. Everything he did was magic.

“Gosh, you're such an impatient brat” he joked, watching your mouth resembling the shape of an o. Sinful moans erupted from your throat and you digged your nails onto his shoulders not to collapse onto the floor. You were close and he knew it. He could feel it by the way your walls squeezed his fingers, almost sucking them in. Therefore, he hastily pulled them out of you, much to your dismay.

You whined for the sudden emptiness you were experiencing and your eyes locked with his one in a pleading glance. Kyojuro unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to allow his member to spring out of his boxers.

You blushed, as his hand found its way to your dripping core again. He easily pushed your panties aside and hooked your right leg up on his hip for a better access.

You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and his bulge pressing against your entrance, collecting your juices as a lube.

“Are you okay? Can I go ahead?” he asked, kissing you gently then.

You nodded and cupped his cheek in your hand, pressing your forehead against his one “Drunk or not, I love you” you whispered, confessing your feelings after years of fears and tears.

Kyojuro held you close to him and finally entered you, earning a loud moan of pleasure from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size, a strained moan rumbling from deep in his chest as he pushed himself into you slowly, inch after inch. Gasping and moaning softly, you felt your walls adapting to him and once he was buried deep into you, Kyojuro gently pulled out a bit. He started pounding into you slowly but passionately, filling you in places no one had ever reached before.

You screamed his name, not worrying about being in a public place and Kyojuro muffled your moans with his tongue anyway.

“Tell me how badly you wished it was me and not him back in time. Tell me. Tell me how many times you wanted to fuck me on your shared bed” he stated, slamming into you a little faster now.

You moaned his name, your legs shaking as you lolled your head back in ecstasy “Countless times” you said, as he gripped your face by your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“I'm not pulling out, you know that?” he rasped, hitting the perfect spot inside you as your eyes locked.

It was the perfect ending, something long overdue. You kissed him enjoying every minute of it until the very end. You came with a loud moan, he following right after you. You felt his seed filling you up to you cervix, as he peppered your face in small, affectionate kisses. He was perfect, this was perfect.

“You're coming home with me tonight” he breathed out, caressing your cheekbones before pulling out of you.

You were finally his.

AUHTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Welcome to ‘AUTHOR NOTE PART TWO’, lmao. I intended to post this yesterday but I really fell asleep after dinner on the couch. I only woke up when my boyfriend came back home and his dog began to run and bark to tell me he was opening the door. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! I love Kyo with a passion and I wanted to show him some love too!

As per usual, likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreacited!

TAGS: @doumadono @electronicwitchcollection @mrskokushibo

#rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x reader #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader

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booksandabeer · 10 months

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Stucky, Fandom Longevity, and "Primacy Bias"

There’s this post that's been floating around the past few days about how the Stucky fandom in its heyday produced fic and art masterpieces like they were all collectively possessed by an unprecedented spirit of creative insanity. It’s a good, fun post and I agree with the person who wrote it. (not rb'ing because I didn't want to hijack their post with something that's only tangentially related).

It was indeed a magical time and the creative output in both quantity and quality in the two-year period following the release of CA:TWS is—with perhaps a few exceptions—unmatched by anything that I’ve seen before and since. However, going through the notes on that post, I noticed something that left me a little irritated and quite frankly sad since it is in congruence with, and to a certain extent the confirmation of something that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

For one thing, there are so many people in the notes expressing sentiments along the lines of “it was such a wonderful time; I wish I could go back; I miss these fics; I want to read these fics again,” etc., etc., you get it. And it feels a little silly pointing this out, but…you can just do that? Almost all of these fics are still right there, waiting for you to be (re)read. Yes, a lot of people left the fandom after The Great Devastation of 2019, but their stories didn’t just disappear. It's not like there is now a big, black hole where the Steve/Bucky tag used to be on AO3. So, if you miss these fics and you want to revisit them—just do it. Chances are the authors will be delighted that people are still finding and enjoying their stories all these years later. And—since apparently this needs saying, too, judging from the notes on that post: A lot of people seem to be very concerned with losing ‘coolness points’ for openly admitting that they still miss the ship and often feel tempted to dip their toes back into the Stucky pool. I don’t know how to tell you this, but if someone tries to shame you for simply enjoying or missing something, they are an asshole. Not to mention that all this is happening on tumble.com—'coolness' doesn't exactly live here. And that is a good thing, to be clear. Fandom is not about being cool. It’s about being as enthusiastic, as silly, as absolutely fucking unhinged about the things you love as you want to be. So, stop caring what other people think and enjoy yourself.

The other thing is that there seems to be a pretty widespread misconception that the Stucky fandom hasn’t produced any good fanworks after 2016.

First, that is patently and demonstrably untrue. There is so much incredibly good fanfiction and fanart still out there. Not as much as back in the day, sure, but it still exists. And more is being posted every day! Even some of the OG Big Names are still around. One of the most beloved Stucky series that started all the way back in 2014 was updated as recently as December of last year. The artist, who I believe the op is referring to as creating ‘baroque’ paintings, posted their latest Stucky art not even two months ago.

Second, I find this “primacy bias” more than just a little insulting to the many hardworking and incredibly talented people who are still putting their blood, sweat, and tears into creating for this community. And it’s one thing if people who have long left the fandom believe or say something like this, but it’s frankly irritating when I see people who are still very much active—and therefore definitely should know better—feed into that same false myth. Yes, it sucks that the Stucky ship isn’t as big as it used to be, but that doesn't mean there isn't any 'fresh talent' to be found anymore. I’m also not saying we shouldn’t still celebrate and recommend older works—I do it all the time! And it sure as hell doesn't mean everyone has to reblog absolutely everything all the time, either. Your blog, your rules.

But maybe we should put a little more focus on the good things, on the creators and the community we have now, especially if we want that community to still exist in another ten years. I mean, imagine you’re a person who’s just gotten into the fandom (because yes, there are indeed still new people discovering Stucky all the time) and one of the first things you’re being told is “eh, nice that you're here, but you’re about 7 years late; the big party is already over.” Does that seem like a fun space to hang out in to you?

So. Let’s all—and I do not exclude myself from this because God knows, I love to complain—spend a little less time mourning the ‘good old days’ that are never coming back anyway, and instead focus our attention on enjoying and appreciating both the incredible treasure chest of an archive we have AND the wealth of high-quality art and fic that is still being created by this wonderful community every single day. With this in mind:

🥳🎊Happy Stucky Week 2023!!! 🎊🥳

*I want to make it very clear that this is a general thing that’s been on my mind lately and that I’m trying to work through here—probably not very coherently. I'm not trying to tell anybody 'how to do fandom' and I’m most definitely not vagueposting about any particular incident, person, or group in this fandom. This isn’t a callout post. It’s an I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this and I don’t know what else do with them post.

#stucky #stucky fanfic #fandom culture #i once again have no idea what to tag this #fanfiction forever #fanart forever

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honeyhotteoks · 5 months

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this night together - chapter ten (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter ten: the truth

chapter summary: seonghwa needs a friend and you say goodbye to your friends and goodbye to them as tour begins.

warnings: nothing too explicit except there is a frank discussion about alpha/omega/beta dynamics and pack dynamics that somewhat mirror real life lgbtqia+ issues like family not being accepting, societal pressures, etc.

notes: thank you all for waiting for me, i can't thank you enough honestly. it took a while to push through and get through the middle of this fic, but we're there. today (12.3) is a special update day, i'm posting three chapters - ten, eleven, and twelve. make sure you're reading in order starting here!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 5k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

Surprisingly the next few weeks pass with relative ease. It’s not painful like before, the crushing weight of their cold isolation. This time you all know exactly where you stand, and with you asking them for space it feels like you’re a little more in control of when and how the next conversation with them occurs.

You spend the weeks working, keeping things cordial in the studio, and seeing your friends. Keeping things busy gives you less time to step back into that studio room and wonder what you should have done differently, so you fill your schedule up to the brim. In looking forward to the tour and the impending lack of your social circle, you start to reach out little by little to other members of the BB Tripping group too.

There’s a gap in your life without them, but for now that has to be okay. For now, you grow your life in every other way you can.

You’re able to focus on everything else until Seonghwa calls.

Little cafe meetups aren’t out of the ordinary for you both, but meeting at a new spot halfway across Seoul is. You’re normally so attached to the neighborhoods around the studio, so the idea that you’d actually have to take the subway and follow directions on your phone sends little warning signals up your back. He sounded mostly fine on the phone, but something a little whispered in his tone left you agreeing to meet immediately.

He said he just wants to see you one more time before the tour, but you feel the strange bubble of pretense around the whole set up. When you finally get there, after thirty minutes and much confusion, he meets you at the door with a clear expression of relief. He buys you a coffee and a fancy tiered pastry, and then shuffles you towards the empty, far end of the cafe.

“The trip wasn’t too bad?” He checks as he pulls out your chair, “I wanted to try this place,”

A smooth lie, but you’ll let it go, “It was fine,” you assure him, “this street is cute,”

“Mm,” He nods.

You have so, so many questions, but you start small, “Three months,” you sigh, settling into the seat, “it feels kind of weird,”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa pushes your chair in and takes his own seat, “it’s hard to pack for a tour,”

“I can’t even imagine,” You grimace.

“You get really sick of miniature toiletries after about a week,” He says, “and you’d think that all the travel would be great, but you end up sitting in hotel rooms most of the time.”

“Well,” You shrug, “you can always call me for an update on the studio,”

“Oh, I will,” He laughs, “the time difference is pretty tough though,”

“Still,” You insist, “we’ll make it work.”

Silence lulls between you, he nods at your words but doesn’t say much else, and you watch as he fingers fiddle with the handle of his cup, restless and seemingly on edge. He needs something, you just don’t know what.

“Seonghwa,” You murmur, “is everything okay?”

“Yes,” He drops his hand into his lap, “completely fine,”

You chew the inside of your lip, wondering whether to press him, “Are you sure?”

He looks down for a moment and then nods, “Everything is fine, but I wanted to talk to you about something,”

“Okay,”

“Me and San,” He says in a rush of exhaled breath.

“Oh,” Your eyes widen, completely blindsided by his words. You thought if he chose to share this with you it would be months, years even. He was so closed off after your heat that you assumed you’d let it lie, just like Wooyoung, but here you are.

“You said I could talk to you about this,” He continues when he sees your expression, “but if,”

“Of course you can,” You shake off your expression as fast as you can, “I just didn’t know that’s what you were going to say.”

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” He says, “especially considering everything you’ve been dealing with,”

You nod, but keep quiet.

“I don’t know, I thought it would be good to get it out there,” He confesses.

“Then I’m here, I’m listening,” You lean forwards, nodding again in encouragement.

He takes a moment to get his words together, and it suddenly makes sense why he wanted to try a cafe in a neighborhood neither of you lived or worked near. He reached out to you to talk about this, to finally share with someone, and he wanted to be one hundred percent sure no one from your lives would overhear.

“Our thing,” Seonghwa nods and you know he means his relationship with San and Wooyoung, “it started off a lot like yours.” He doesn’t need to say their names, you know who he means.

You smile, “Accidental and stressful?”

“Definitely accidental,” He nods, “we had been friends for years, and Wooyoung always dealt with his heats outside of work and without us really knowing much about it,”

“Really?” You find that hard to believe with how much he overshares.

“Mhm,” Seonghwa turns the cup on his saucer one way and then back the other as he figures out how to start. “Usually anyways, but about two years ago he was out for his heat leave like normal, and he called San in a panic. The alpha he arranged to meet flaked out on him and he was too far gone at some heat hotel in Incheon. He didn’t have anything he needed, the alpha was supposed to bring it all,”

“God,” You grimace at the thought.

“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, “he was in a lot of pain and he was really scared,”

“Of course,”

“San called me,” Seonghwa explains, “he was nervous about spending Wooyoung’s heat with him, even though he agreed.”

You nod, but stay quiet to give him the space to continue.

His eyes dart down, a little unfocused as he sinks into the memory of it, “He was so concerned about hurting Wooyoung or doing the wrong thing, and he was begging me to give him advice. Advice just turned into me offering to drive him to Incheon and helping him shop for supplies, and before you knew it I was up in the room with them both.”

“Wooyoung was okay with that?” You ask.

He nods, “Wooyoung was fine, more interested in making sure neither one of us was uncomfortable between his heat spikes,”

You nod again.

Seonghwa looks back up to you then and sighs, “Before Youngie’s heat, I had a bit of a crush on San. It was really nothing, just a bit of a flirtation in my mind. Someone to think about alone at night, you know,”

“Yeah,” You think of Yunho for a brief, flashing second and the way you used to watch him around the studio.

“But that heat changed everything,” He smiles, a little sadly, “I think you know what I mean.”

You fight the urge to reach across the table and take his hand, fearful that you might break his willingness to open up.

“The funny part,” He says, a fresh crease between his brows, “is that San felt the same way. We both knew alpha pairings were a little unorthodox, but for a while we didn’t care. We carried on for a few months, but we kept it quiet so it didn’t interfere with work or any of our friendships.”

Your eyes widen.

“Wooyoung still doesn’t know about that part,” He says quietly, “so I’d appreciate it if you kept that between us,”

“Of course, Hwa,”

“Things started to go further though. We were going on dates without calling them dates, sleeping at each other’s places, leaving things behind. We were texting all the time, sneaking kisses in the locker room,” He explains, “we just couldn’t leave each other alone.”

He goes quiet again, and this time you do reach across the table, resting your hand over his twitching fingers, “What happened?”

He swallows tightly and he looks away again, but his hand turns under yours to press your palms together, “One morning San asked if I wanted to spend the weekend in Namhae, he missed his family and thought it would be nice if we all spent some time together.”

“Oh,” You breathe, the pieces of their story falling together in front of you so easily.

“I couldn’t do it,” He confesses, “and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I told him that I loved him, but that our friendship was what mattered to me, and that we were kidding ourselves by not trying to find omegas of our own.”

Your cringe, “Seonghwa,”

“I know,” He breathes, his head dropping, “it was cruel.”

“Your relationship,” You squeeze his hand, “what you had with San wasn’t wrong, you know that right? It’s perfectly,”

His head snaps up, “I know it’s not wrong.”

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room at the expression in his eyes, fierce determination as he snaps to defend himself. You stay silent.

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head, pulling his hand back, “I do know that, that’s not why I broke it off.”

“Then,”

“My family is very traditional,” Seonghwa says, “they believe that alphas and omegas are made as a perfect match. They believe that every alpha has a destined omega and that a bond, a claim, should be between one alpha and one omega only.”

“That’s so,” You trail off, unable to really form the words. Traditional is a kind, sanitized word for what it is. You would have said bigoted, downright prejudicial, and your chest aches at the idea that he grew up cocooned in that kind of indoctrination.

“Hypocritical,” His cheek twitches, “considering my parents loathe each other.”

You smile at that, “I’m sorry,”

He shrugs, his cool exterior slotting back into place, “It’s a shame that we’re not a scent match, honestly. My parents would be so proud of me if I brought you home,”

You take his hand again, brushing smoothly past his comment, “Are they so traditional they don’t believe in packs either?”

“That’s worse,” He crinkles his nose, “to them.”

Packs have always been a little controversial, especially with the rise in beta designations and the decreasing likelihood that omegas will find a true honest-to-god scent match, but it’s not unheard of. Polyamory and packs have started to crop back up in popular media, and it’s becoming more and more common to see an omega paired with two or more alphas despite the traditionalist view that it’s a return to baser, more primal instincts. You were raised knowing packs were an option, but as you listen to Seonghwa and understand his past, you know everything for him was the opposite.

“I really am sorry,” You murmur, “it must have been difficult to grow up surrounded by that mindset.”

He nods, and then takes a long sip of his untouched coffee.

The threads are coming together more clearly, but there’s still a question lingering in your mind and the words leave you without any real consideration, “If you don’t believe that, then why break it off with San?”

He grimaces, “My parents are fairly wealthy,”

Your stomach turns icy.

“And you know the money in dance isn’t exactly overwhelming,” He explains, “they’ve always offered their financial support to me, but it’s incredibly conditional.”

“Hwa,” You breathe.

“San thought I chose the money over him,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair, separating your hands again and resting his wrists on the edge of the table, “I tried to explain the situation to him, I tried to apologize for what I said and ask him for more time… time to figure everything out and to be able to be financially independent from them, but all he heard was that I wasn’t willing to lose the money.”

You shake your head, but he keeps going.

“You know how he is, he’s more headstrong than anyone I’ve ever met. Once he has an idea, there’s no telling him differently.” Seonghwa explains.

“But it’s not true,” You’re suddenly so frustrated with Choi San you could wring his neck.

“It is what it is, y/n,”

“But,” You trail off, deflated, “aren’t you still seeing each other?”

“No,” He says firmly, “only for Wooyoung’s heats.”

“And that’s what? Working out fine?” Your eyebrows dart up.

“For now,” He sighs, “and I’m under no big illusion that he’s going to forgive me and we’re going to go riding off into the sunset. He told me he wanted to be friends and he wanted us to continue being there for Wooyoung and we just let it go back to the way it was, and honestly,” his voice softens, “I’ll take some of him, even if I can never have all of him.”

“Oh, Hwa,”

His eyes are a little watery, but it clears quickly and he clears his throat, “Anyways, that’s it. That’s the tragic little story.”

“That’s just not fair,” You shake your head, “you should be together,”

He shakes his head, “Maybe, but I’m not willing to risk losing what I do have.”

“If San understood,” You start.

“Listen,” He cuts you off, “I know it seems like there should be this big movie scene, where we both admit we hurt each other and put it all behind us, and build a little pack together and have lots and lots of babies, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve made peace with that.”

You can see plainly that he hasn’t, but in the same way he doesn’t push you on your relationship with Yunho and Mingi, you take a calculated step back from pressing down on this particular nerve.

“Okay,” You say, “well then thank you for telling me, and I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”

“Thank you,” The air leaves him in a relieved rush.

“And Woo doesn’t know?” You’re hard pressed to believe that.

He shrugs lightly, “He knows something, we’ve spent enough heats together for him to see what’s there, but it’s not something we discuss.”

“Got it,” You murmur.

“And you?” He turns the conversation back with ease, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

You nod, “I’m just going to leave it for a while. I’ll apologize when they come back and the air is cleared a little,”

“Apologize?”

“They’re not the only ones who’ve messed things up,” You tell him honestly, “and if I could take back what I said, I would.”

“Me too,” Seonghwa smiles softly.

“Besides,” You lean back in your chair, “you’ll all be gone tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll talk to you and Woo and San, but you’ll be busy and in a completely different timezone. It’ll be for the best,”

“Maybe a change of scenery will be good for them,” Seonghwa adds.

“I hope so,” You murmur.

“I’m honestly surprised they haven’t said anything to me,” He points out, “but it’s been the same as always,”

“Really?”

He nods, smiling a little, “I thought for a second Mingi was being a little cold, but he just had earbuds in and couldn’t hear me,”

You laugh sharply, “Well,” you shrug, “I really gave it to them. Maybe they realized being jealous isn’t a good look, especially if we’re ever going to get the chance to be friends or try this again with a clean slate.”

Seonghwa chews at the inside of his lip for a moment and then sighs, “y/n, do you want to know what I really think?”

You dip your head, gesturing for him to continue.

“I think they’re idiots, and I think they acted like assholes and you deserve an apology for it,” You can sense that there’s something more and he continues, “but I’ve made those mistakes. I’ve pushed away someone I care about, I’ve said the wrong things, and I’ve had a hell of a time trying to patch it back together.”

Your stomach twists.

“I’m not telling you what to do,” He says, “but I’ve known Yunho and Mingi for a long time. I see the way they look at you, the way they talk about you. There’s more than just an attraction there, there’s something real for all of you.”

“That’s the part that’s terrifying,”

“Yeah,” He nods, “and you know, maybe don’t take advice from me, the guy whose love life is beyond a mess, but I also don’t want you to regret anything here.”

You reach for his hand again and take it without hesitation.

“I just need to think it through,” You say softly, “and then be brave,”

Seonghwa nods. You think that maybe if you can be brave, he can too, but you both let that thought lie in the space between you untouched. You don’t need to press him, not after everything he just shared with you and how much more you’re sure is there under the surface, but the thought is still understood by you both just the same.

“I know you’ll do what’s best for you,” Seonghwa adds after a moment, “but until then,”

“Until then let’s not think about it anymore,” You finish his words for him.

He takes another deep breath, and you can see the way telling his secret has lifted something away from his shoulders. He takes another long sip of his coffee and then finally he says, “Do you have anything else you’re doing today?”

You shake your head.

“Want to wander around and help me buy unnecessary travel accessories?” He grins.

“Seonghwa,” You squeeze his hand, “I would love nothing more,”

“Great,” He runs a hand through his hair, “then let’s go back to Hongdae, I don’t know any of the stores over here.”

“You owe me a train ticket,” You nudge him as you start to gather up your things.

“I bought you a coffee,” He points out, standing with you.

“You always buy my coffee,”

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes but you can see that it’s playful, “I’ll buy you a little thank you present for coming all the way out here,”

“That’s more like it,” You tease, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “now let’s go home,”

Despite your long goodbye afternoon with Seonghwa, it’s harder to really say goodbye to them all on the day than you thought it would be.

When the last practice before their flight is over, everyone dressed in their coats and hats and ready to go for the night, all of the BB Trippin crew lingers in the front entrance hall. Well wishes, talks of food to try, jet lag tips, the weather. You try to ignore the full suitcases by the door.

It isn’t until the very last moment that the real feeling of it starts to sink in.

Wooyoung’s arms are banded tightly around you when the realization of just how long three months is barrels over you in full force. You take a hitched little breath hiding in his shoulder and get your emotions in check, but it’s starting to become readily apparent now. You’re going to miss them, not just your friends, but them too.

There’s a part of you that fantasizes about throwing up your hands and confessing all your conflicting feelings, chasing them down in the airport like an old movie and laying it all on the line, but you’re not going to actually do that. It’s not fair to anyone if you do something like that. You laid out boundaries for the past few weeks, they more than respected them, and you have no doubt they’ll stay silent over the next few months just like you requested.

“I’m not going to war,” Wooyoung laughs, squeezing you back once as he tries to extricate himself from your arms, “it’s just tour,”

“No, I know, I know,” You clear your throat softly, “I’m going to miss you though,”

“Me too,” He smiles, running a hand through his hair as he steps back.

When you step back from him, Mingi and Yunho are closer than they were a few moments ago and they’re keeping their eyes elsewhere but you can’t let them go without a single word. You can’t. If anything happens to them you’d regret it so deeply, and your hand shoots out to brush along Mingi’s arm.

His eyes flash with recognition for a second, but he remains cool and calm when he turns to you and you watch Yunho follow suit.

“Have safe flight,” You manage, your chest tight at the idea that this is really it.

“You too,” Mingi says and then he sighs as he realizes his mistake, “not flight, obviously,”

“Right,” You smile, his awkwardness breaking the tension between you so easily.

“Be safe here,” Yunho offers, correcting the sentiment, “and good luck with all the debut preparation, I know it’ll go smoothly with you and Dahan handling things,”

Your chest warms, “Thank you, Yunho,”

He nods and then takes a step back, and suddenly there’s nothing more to say.

“Well, we should go,” Yunho clears his throat, “goodbye, y/n,”

“Bye,” You manage.

“Bye, y/n,” Mingi nods, turning to take the handle of his suitcase from Yunho.

They start towards the door, and you offer a final goodbye, and then a hand in the middle of your back draws your eyes to the side at Seonghwa.

“Safe flight,” Seonghwa murmurs the tease low into your ear as he gives you a fast hug.

“Shut up,” You shove him as subtly as you can.

He smiles, a little mischievously, “I’ll text you when we land.”

“Good,” You nod, “get some sleep on the plane,”

He salutes as he steps back and drops an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, “Yes, ma’am,”

You roll your eyes more obviously this time, but before they continue their teasing, Wooyoung tugs his friends closer to the door, “Alright, alright, I’m exhausted and our cab’s outside,”

“Bye, y/n,” Seonghwa calls over his shoulder as Wooyoung shoves him out the door, and you can hear San laughing from just outside, Yunho’s voice echoing beside it.

Movement from the door draws your eye, and Mingi hitches his duffle bag up over his shoulder. His lips quirk up in the smallest smile, and he waves, just a little.

You wave back with a nod, and then he’s gone.

The studio moves forward just the same. Quieter, but the same.

You and Dahan spend your time focused on the debut, and despite how much you think of them for just a flicker before you drop off into sleep every night, your body is so tired from work that your mind never dwells for too long.

Weeks pass around you in a busy blur

Three months doesn’t seem so long as it whips by around you, not unless you really let yourself slow down and think about it. You still get updates from your friends as they hop from city to city, photos online of New World where you can see your best friends in the back, and then their Instagram updates of every new strange dish they try.

Yunho and Mingi stay quiet, just like you needed, until one night they don’t.

The email sitting unread at the top of your inbox was sent three days ago. You rarely check your inbox, and there’s a real chance you would have missed this message entirely, but you just happened to be looking for an authentication code at the exact right time and there’s no mistaking what this email is when you stumble across it. There’s no subject, but there is a little preview pane of the first line and your breath catches in your throat when you see it.

y/n - You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email.

Your heart tightens in your chest and you double check the email address. You don’t have it saved, but just know it’s Mingi. You need a drink for this. You step away from your desk and run your hands through your hair, heart beating fast, and you try to decide what to do as you leave your room for a breath and a glass of anything.

You pour some wine with shaky hands, the quiet of your apartment feeling so loud around you. If you open it, you won’t be able to live in an ignorant little bubble anymore. You could delete it, really put your foot down about no contact and keep moving on. You could do that.

You’re back at your desk seconds later with your cursor hovering over the email.

He’s not wrong. You never said don’t email.

With a gulp of wine for courage, you press down and brace yourself.

y/n -

You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email. I’m not sending this so you’ll reply, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but honestly I’m not always the best at saying something in the moment. Please forgive this.

I’ve thought a lot about us the past few weeks and I wanted you to know that I understand why you’re confused. It was hard to see it before. Something made me insane when you said you slept with Seonghwa, and I can see how all that alpha shit would make sense, but that wasn’t it. Not all of it anyways. I’ve spent so much time thinking it through and what really upset me wasn’t that you were with somebody else or even that it was him. I was so fucking mad at myself for letting us go back to being friends. Especially now that I know you wanted us too and we wrecked it. I feel like a fucking coward, and I swear to god I’ve never been a coward before. You make me feel things and do things that make no sense. It’s hard to make sense of anything when we’re together except that I like being with you.

These things are so much easier to say when you’re not here. Yunho’s better at this kind of thing, and you’re so good at it sometimes I can’t keep up.

I want to say that I’m sorry for all of it. I really didn’t do any of it right. You didn’t choose us that night but you did trust us, you trusted me and I’ve done nothing but hurt you since that weekend ended. I thought you wanted to go back to being friends, but when I saw you at the studio the day after I couldn’t do it. I thought if I talked to you I would just cross too many lines, I didn’t realize how much more I wanted from you until you left. But I thought about how much it would hurt you if I pushed it too far at work, and then I thought about how much it would hurt Yunho if you wanted me and not him. Or how much it would hurt me if it were the other way around. Or what would happen if you didn’t want us at all?

I think I should tell you that Yunho and I didn’t talk for a few weeks either, not really. I think we were all just waiting for the other person to say something, but the whole time we were hurting you. I’m so sorry for that.

I feel bad about the kiss too. I just panicked, I didn’t know what to do to make you stay. I know it wasn’t the right time, so I’m sorry for that too.

Yunho is sorry too by the way. Someday if we ever talk about this, he’ll tell you himself, but he’s my best friend and I just have to tell you that he hates himself for how he treated you. He’d be so pissed if he knew I was sending this to you, but you have to know it.

I feel like there’s so much more I could say… things that I want the chance to explain to you, things about how I felt before we ever got together, but you said we missed our chance and I have to learn how to respect that. That’s why I don’t want you to respond to this letter. I wanted to send this because I don’t think I can do this face to face right now, I tried to be honest in the studio that night and all I did was make it worse. I hope you at least read this and can understand that, and I promise I won’t write to you again.

I want you to know that Yunho and I talked, and we agreed on what to do. We won’t reach out, we won’t push you. When we come home, we’d like the chance to be friends again like we were. We want you to feel comfortable with us again and to trust us again. I know we missed our chance, but being friends with you is always going to be better than nothing.

We care a lot about you. I hope through all the noise you can still feel that.

While we’re away please be safe and be happy.

Please don’t respond. Mingi

You read it again, and again for good measure. After the fourth time you close your laptop tight and leave it far away from you. You want to tell him that you’re sorry too, that they’re not alone in making mistakes after your heat and that you all fucked it up together. A perfect mix of insecurity and biology and doubt and fear boiling over to make sure none of you opened up to each other and just said what you wanted. But you don’t say any of that.

You’ll tell them when they’re home.

For once you think the right thing to do is to listen.

You don’t respond.

a/n: reminder, i am no longer doing taglists as they became too unruly to properly maintain. please turn on post notifs, check my blog regularly, or subscribe on ao3 to get immediate updates.

#this night together fic #honeyhotteoks fics #ateez #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yungi x reader #ateez ff #ateez fic #yunho fic #yunho ff #mingi fic #mingi ff #ateez series

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olderthannetfic · 4 months

Note

Nearly 75% of fic on AO3 has less than 5 reader comments. Can we please acknowledge that lack of engagement in a positive fashion is the norm in fandom and that writers are expected to work for nothing in return yet readers are allowed to be entitled?

The source of my number

https://www.tumblr.com/transholmes/738776926733336576/and-even-those-numbers-on-the-lower-end-are

Hahahahaha.

Oh, anon.

Okay, first of all, I just posted a bunch of graphs showing exactly this, so not only am I well aware of it, but you also clearly don't read my tumblr much and are just here because some friend of yours is upset that I responded negatively to them about their dumb bookmarking opinions.

Second and more importantly...

No, no one is expected to do anything.

That's crazypants influencer talk where you think your hobbies are jobs that you have no choice about doing.

I suppose I do expect fans to have something at least marginally worthwhile to say—or else I'll block them for being whiny little bitches who make my day dumber as well as less amusing.

But mostly, what I expect is that people will do hobbies because they are fun. If I ever decide that writing fic is too boring, I will stop.

I write because it's fun.

I write original work for money too, and if you want to read that, you're going to have to pay Amazon your cold, hard cash. But I still do it because I enjoy the actual act of writing... at least a lot of the time.

What I see in the bookmark boo-hooing is a bunch of people who haven't noticed the last eighty thousand rounds of this same dumb wank and who not only expect to get the last word but expect that somehow I'm going to signal boost it on my tumblr as that... a tumblr known for contentious debates and nobody ever getting the last word till everyone's exhausted and never wants to hear about paper plates or beans again.

I also see that some of the thinnest-skinned people have fic patreons.

Now, I chose not to bring this up before because it sounds a bit below the belt in that "And thus you're morally impure and thus I can ignore your argument" way... But it's a consistent pattern in these conversations over time, and I do think it's relevant. The biggest sensitive babies are always the ones most afraid of bad reviews but also low engagement, and I think it's because they're caught in some half-pro, half-not limbo where they want the best of both worlds but keep getting the worst of both.

If you behave like a professional who is owed compensation, you can expect a more professional style of response to your work.

And what does the pro world look like? Radio silence. The occasional harsh review. Nobody caring why you wanted to write X or why you couldn't finish Y on time.

If you're here to socialize, you should look for a beta or a couple of good friends who like your blorbos and your style of fic, and then you can squee together about what you've written. It may not come in the form of visible AO3 comments. It may be in private chat.

In some cases, it may just be friends you can talk to about your writing but who aren't actually going to read it. I have plenty of friends who read different things than what I write.

That's what socializing and hobbies look like, dude.

It's fine to point out that many writers do get discouraged by low comment counts and then stop, so if I, as a reader in a fandom, want more, it behooves me to befriend writers and make them feel good.

But at the same time, writers get discouraged or move on to the next fandom all the time for all kinds of reasons. If the critical mass and the zeitgeist aren't there, then they aren't.

Do your hobbies for reasons internal to you.

If the main point is external validation, get into BDSM and find someone excited to indulge your praise kink. It will work a lot better than chasing fame via art.

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kawaiikenna · 2 years

Text

Another fic of mine! It was inspired by some comments on another fic. Here’s the link for the ao3 posting. Support it on there if you’d like. -w-

Danny had been summoned to many, many different places. Creepy warehouses with cloaked hooded cultists chanting? Yep. The produce area of an abandoned supermarket? Check. Several girls’ slumber parties ages ranging from 12 to 25? Been there, done that. Hell, he’s even been summoned by a group of boys for no other reason than one of them had to prove that his sister wasn’t lying when she said that they had summoned the Ghost King at her last slumber party. Yeah, that was fun. No, not really.

But a daycare? Or at least somewhere he thought was a daycare? Now that was someplace Danny had never thought he’d be summoned to. But there he was. Plopped into a group of maybe 10-15 kids. Not fully eldritch but enough for other ‘normal’ humans to become extremely unsettled or flat out scared. Horns spiraled out from the sides of his head, limbs too long and skinny to be considered human, his hands held spindly long fingers tipped with icy claws, his eyes were normal if not for the black sclera instead of white. He was wearing his normal black and white hazmat suit with a fur lined cloak hanging heavy on his shoulders. Danny said nothing as he stared, flabbergasted, at the small, young boy crying on the ground. He had a really bad skinned knee that was bleeding a fair amount. It apparently was enough blood to trigger the summoning circle.

There were several other children around the room. All of them had frozen and stared either at the boy, or, blatantly, at Danny. He was too tired to deal with this. He had other shit to do rather than babysit random ass kids that inadvertently summoned him. So Danny bent down and took a look at the kid’s knee. He was as gentle as possible.

“Hey buddy.” Danny says softly. “That looks like it hurts. Would it be ok if I fixed it for you?”

The kid didn’t say anything, more just nodded but Danny wasn’t sure if he could even hear him. So Danny pulled out his emergency first aid kit and went about cleaning and bandaging the boy’s knee.

“What’s your name?” Danny asks gently as he disinfects the bloody wound.

“James.” A soft whisper answers.

“Well you’re very brave James.” He responds.

There isn’t anymore conversation after that, but the atmosphere was more relaxed now that Danny had demonstrated that he wasn’t a threat. By the time he had finished the other kids were surrounding them. They all looked incredibly curious. A few of the braver ones had asked questions while Danny had been doing. He thought that even if he usually didn’t deal well with kids, he did a pretty damn good job.

Danny made to stand up but instead was tackled back to the ground by a tiny body. He looked over his shoulder to find a little girl clinging to his cloak with all her might. She beams brightly up at him.

“Are you here to play with us?” She asks.

“Uhh, no?” Danny answered, confusion lacing his words.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because now there was another child pouncing on his back and two more holding onto each of his arms. All at once they tried to talk. Some in complaining tones, others in curiosity.

“Noo! You should stay and play!”

“Yeah! You have to stay and play ‘cause that’s the rules!”

“Yeah! That’s the rules!”

“How come you have a cape?”

“Do you like hide and seek?”

“Why’s your hair white? Does that mean you’re old?”

“If you’re old does that mean you can’t play hide and seek?”

“No! I don’t like hide and seek!”

“Yeah! He should come draw with us instead!”

“How come you have horns?”

“Are you dressed up for Halloween?”

“Halloween isn’t for a long time stupid!”

“Hey!”

Danny’s head was starting to spin. He hadn’t eaten since that morning. The ghosts had decided to make his life a living hell and attack him every ten minutes. Now with this, this was the icing on the cake. Summonings had become somewhat more of an often occurrence. Not by much but enough that it still messed up his day. But you know what? Today is a day to just roll with the punches. So Danny did play hide and seek. He also did some drawings. He even let some of the kids try on his cloak. He even gave some of the older kids flights around the room. Danny had sent a text to the group chat somewhat explaining the situation before focusing again on entertaining the tiny children.

When he asked about an adult that was in charge; he got the answer of mommy and daddy are dead or they weren’t coming back. So he assumed that this was kind of like an orphanage. One where older kids took care of the youngers and everyone watched each other’s backs. That really didn’t sit right with Danny but there really wasn’t anything he could do for them.

So instead he entertained them and played with them. He didn’t know how long they played together, but it was long enough to where the majority of the kids were falling asleep. So he gathered up the youngest ones and had a cuddle pile. His cloak became their blanket. Some of the older kids joined them as well.

They had finally gotten the last little one to sleep when Batman kicked the door down. Danny managed to snag the door before it hit the floor. Green energy enveloping it as he set it down carefully. The hero marched into the room, closely followed by a young woman dressed in what looked like one of those ‘sexy magician’ Halloween costumes he had seen before. Now, if Danny hadn’t been so tired he would have been embarrassed by his reaction. But since he was half mad from sleep deprivation, and maybe a little hunger, considering how long he had gone without an actual proper meal, there were no such feelings. So instead of calmly telling them to be quiet as to not wake up the other kids and that he would explain later. He threatened the pair.

“If either of you end up waking up even one of the kids I will personally make it my mission to make you’re lives extremely difficult.” Danny hisses dangerously, eyes flaring protectively.

The three year old cuddled into his left side stirred slightly. Hazel eyes blinking blearily up at him. Immediately calling Danny’s attention to the little boy. “Shh, shh, go back to sleep Sammy.”

A content purr sounding from the halfa. The little boy, Sammy, did as told and went back to sleep. Danny goes back to glaring at the two adults. He hisses softly when the magician lady takes a step forward. A warning to the back the hell up. Surprisingly she does exactly that and Danny stops hissing. Though his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.

Batman opens his mouth, probably to demand answers and information, but Danny cuts him short with a warning growl. “I don’t care if you have questions or want to know why or how I got here. I’m waaay to friggin tired to give you any kind of satisfactory answer. So just let me sleep.” A large yawn escapes him. “If you guys want to stay until nap time is over then be my guest.”

Danny then closes his eyes and focused on the children cuddling closest to him. Miranda curls more into his chest, face halfway pressed to his collarbone, and hums sleepily. Adam wakes himself up a bit with a sudden loud snore but settles right back into Danny’s right side, his head resting on the older’s shoulder. Sarah is still situated between his legs with her head lolled in Miranda’s lap. Suzie has her back firmly pressed to the outside of Danny’s left thigh. Sammy’s feet are just barely touching the top of her head. Danny let’s himself relax and bask in the kids’ sleepy emotions. Just before he falls off into sleep he cracks open an eye.

Batman and the magician lady are talking in hushed whispers in the opposite corner of his not so little cuddle puddle. He probably could have listened in on their conversation with his enhanced hearing. Nah, that would take too much effort. So instead he just drops off. This is something future Danny will have to deal with. Current Danny just wants to take a damn nap.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #dc #dp #dc comics #dc x dp #batman #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #summonings #summoning circle #summoning #eldritch ghost king danny #ghost king danny #let the boy sleep #he just wants a nap

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diana-fortyseven · 5 months

Text

I think it's time to share a secret with you: you don't have to see things you don't want to see on the internet.

Shocking, I know.

Most sites give you fairly decent tools to avoid concepts, topics, or people you don't like, and you should totally use them.

The smutty fanfic that makes you uncomfortable because it contradicts your headcanon for your favourite character? It's rated "explicit". If you click on it anyway and get angry? That's on you.

The AO3 author who keeps publishing smutty fanfics that make you uncomfortable because you don't even want to see the summaries of fics that have this one character fucking? Adjust your filters to only show you works that are rated "for general audiences" or "teen and up".

The AO3 author makes you angry now because they published so many fics you don't want to see? Mute the author. You'll never have to see any of their works ever again.

You also don't want them to interact with your fics? Block them too.

The Tumblr user who wants to see their favourite characters fuck? You can block them. It's fine. You don't need to see their posts.

Many Tumblr users want to see their favourite characters fuck? You can just filter the tags they use for talking about wanting to see their favourite characters fuck. You don't need to go into these fandoms' tags to complain about people enjoying themselves in a way you don't enjoy. The way they do fandom isn't about you. If you don't like what you see, don't go there.

I know that the tools these sites give you aren't perfect.

Tumblr for example still shows you that posts with tags you filtered exist, and you still have to scroll past them. Sometimes you don't want to block a user, you just don't want to see this one specific post or fic all the time. If you filter out a lot of things on AO3, it can be annoying to enter these filters every single time you want to browse your fandoms.

Good thing that using the internet on desktop opens a whole new world of browser extensions and user scripts for you!

Make Tumblr posts with certain tags or even words in the body of the post disappear completely? Possible with this script here. Make just this one post you hate so much disappear? Possible with this script here. Make just this one fic you hate so much disappear? Possible with this script here. Save AO3 filters? Possible with this script here.

I have this extensive collection of my favourite browser extensions and user scripts for fanfic sites on my Dreamwidth.

They're sorted by site, which makes it easier to find what you're looking for. All of them are free. Most of them can just be installed as is. If you need help with one of them you need to edit a little, let me know. I'll happily walk you through or give you the snippet of code you need to make it do what you want it to do.

Curate your own online experience. Other people on the internet aren't responsible for your decision to keep walking into spaces you don't want to be in. You can't demand that others censor themselves because you don't understand the concept of Just Not Reading Something.

(And honestly, even if you already knew that other people on the internet aren't your babysitters, you should check out my list of scripts! They're fucking amazing! :D)

#Fandom

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penvisions · 2 months

Text

return the favor {chapter 22}

Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader || M! OC x Pre Boston QZ! Reader (flashback scenes)

Summary: Memories often spring up at the worst of times, but as you continue to travel alone there's not much else to occupy your mind.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: minor character death, m! oc death, canon typical violence, canon typical language, cursing, insult, sexual content, non con, allusions to non con sexual advances, allusions to p in v, unprotected p in v that results in pregnancy, kissing, pregnancy, symptoms of pregnancy, mentions of nausea but no vomiting, allusions to child loss, fighting, blood, reader gets injured, joel gets injured, guns, gun violence, self-depreciating internal monologue, if i left anything out pls lemme know!

A/N: trying something new with this chapter, i hope it reads well! thank you to everyone who participated in the poll for the next few chapters of this fic! this one is a little shorter, but the next one will be a doozy. my mind is a little overwhelmed with school and tutoring and four different WIPS

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Joel was trying.

He was trying to tamp down the anxiety he knew would thrum in his veins the second the gates of Jackson closed behind him. Back out in the unknown and unpredictable landscape. Winter was granting him a passive day, no snow, no biting wind, cloud coverage clear for the sky to shine a light blue to crystal clear you would think it was a brisk summer day. But the pause in extreme weather aside from the near freezing temperature did nothing to quell the pulse beneath his skin.

He was alone, traveling with a teenager he had come to care about in a dangerous way.

The journey had been meant to be made with Tess, first. Strong-willed, no-nonsense saint of a woman for taking what he could offer her and not asking for anything in return. Just wanting to share space and renown within a controlled setting that allowed for them to execute their runs and make what passed for a decent living back in what was left of the quarantine zones. To share their bodies when human nature sparked connection in the oldest and most instinctual of ways. She had turned an eye to his abuse of the very same things they traded for food, for water, for supplies for their shabby apartment that had seen far better days before they stepped foot inside.

Then journey was then meant to be made with you. A surprise in the moments after her death. Skilled in many things and willing to help a man suddenly saddled with a teenager he had no clue how to interact with. But he had, once upon a time. The situation tasting of irony and self-destruction. Selfless to the point of disembarking on your own path in the wake of his own attempt at running when faced with something too real for the world. Maybe in the Before times, it would have worked out. Perhaps a meet cute as he delivered his brother to an urgent care for a drunken blunder, a work accident he himself fell victim to, or a begged visit for Sarah should she had fallen off her bike or taken a tumble in soccer practice. Maybe then it would have been given life, hopeful glances and lingering touches that would have turned into nervous dates. Nervous dates that would give way to regular familiarity and then heated nights beneath sheets of his bed.

But it had never should’ve blossomed in the now, in the after. And yet, it had tried.

Ellie was mad. She wasn’t trying.

Not the first day at least.

Speaking when spoken to, ire and hurt flaring uncomfortably in moments he could sense weren’t aimed at him. At least not completely. Aimed at you, for going back on your word. Something you wouldn’t have had to do if he hadn’t screwed up so monumentally by falling for you. He had been wrong in his accusations, throwing the proposition you made to him all those days ago back in your face. Like you had forced yourself on him, forced him into thinking of you that way, of wanting you that way. But it had been him, his decision to take you up on it in his grief. Wanting to feel something other than the gaping hole that seemed to eat up more and more of him as the years went by.

But instead of just taking his body in the ways he allowed you to, you had also begun to heal that black hole he was made up of. Slowly and so minimally at a time that he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

He stopped and made the time to teach her how to shoot the rifle, hoping it would help to bring her out of her shell. And it worked, he silently thanked the universe, it worked. She was cracking jokes and quipping like normal. Mirth lighting up her eyes and questions flowing from her. And he indulged them, as best he could. Telling her of how he supported himself before the world fell apart. About how he always dreamed of singing and making music.

But just as everything seemed to be on the mend, it was broken once again.

With the crack of a wooden bat.

“A-Angelo?” You voice was as shaky as your reaching hands, fingers brushing against the man’s face only a few steps away. He was older, that much was certain. Only a year apart back then, back when the world functioned in an entirely different way. Only a year apart, but two decades of time separating you now, turned into completely different people. A wave of emotions at finding your family by pure chance and circumstance in the wilds of a state you had never been to before while on your way to look for them hit hard. You both surged forward and embraced, the man’s arms coming around you and tightening.

“I thought it was you, the hair,” He choked out, deep voice cracking. He was so broad, tall frame looming over you, developed fully into a man who had survived the worst of nature and humanity. Just as you had grown into a woman who took nothing of ill nature aimed at you, taking the things that had happened to you and using it as a foundation to be stronger.

“It’s me, I’m okay.” You gripped his shoulders tight, pushing him back a little to look him over.

“No injuries, no bites, you’re okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m okay….We both are.”

That’s when your mind decided to remind you of the other voice you heard, the feminine one.

A young girl, no more than her teens and far too skinny was half concealed behind a tree trunk a few yards away. Her eyes were brown, honey brown and beautiful and they reminded you of so many people lost to space and time. They shown just as Taylor’s had done, once upon a time. Like you had both talked of wishing to see on a bright new, chubby face…

“Oh.” The phantom jolt of a kick felt through the skin of your aunt’s stomach so many years ago sprung to life in the palm of your hand. “Oh, Angelo. I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He detached from you, taking a few steps toward the girl, now in between you both equally. He held out a hand to her, his gloves tattered and stitching frayed in certain places.

“It’s okay, she’s okay. She’s family.”

“You’re so beautiful,” You gently coached her out, hoping nice words would help her to feel safe. “I’ve never met you, but I’ve waited a very long time to. You- you can call me by my name or Bean, if you’d like?”

“This is our cousin, from mom’s side. Do you remember her saying that we needed to go East?”

A small nod, wide eyes taking in the situation.

“It was to find her. She’s good, smart, she can help keep us alive.”

“You’ve been doing good on your own.” She didn’t move, not taking a step to back away and put distance between you nor toward you in a hesitant greeting. Her wide brown eyes were alert, telling of the things she’d experienced and been witness to. Of how cautious she was in the face of new people, a good thing to be but completely unwarranted in this particular case.

“Yes, but…Adela, we…we need help. This season, it’s harsh and we don’t know this land as well.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I know we’re practically strangers but we are related. I know that doesn’t mean much these days to some people, but it means a great deal to me. I will do everything in my power to protect you, just like your brother.”

Hours later, after a shared meal and an introduction of your gifted appaloosa, camp was made and secured. Adela was fast asleep, one of the blankets you had tucked underneath the saddle wrapped around her small frame inside her sleeping bag. Light snoring sounding from the bundle she made against the horse.

“We’re the only ones that made it.” Angelo said before you could even figure out how to ask after everyone. Outbreak day a rather taboo subject amongst those that survived it. For Joel, at least, for you it was easier to divulge but still not a light subject to talk about. You had been willing with Ellie, with Maria. The first to quell her curious questions, to allow her another perspective on the events before her time that shaped the world into the one that she knew. The second to appeal to her, to connect with someone who felt comfortable.

“We didn’t know anything was going on for a while, you know how it is working in a ware. house all day. But when I got home that evening, apparently grandma had passed during the morning. Scared the hell out of everyone when she came sprinting into the living room and lunged at dad.”

“I…I can’t imagine, I’m so sorry. I know I had a missed call from the house that day, but I had been running late. And then, you know….”

“It’s okay,” One of his gloved hands reached out, taking the closest one of yours and squeezing. “We both made it, Adela made it. I love our family and cared so much for everyone, but this world is too harsh for them. It was always going to be us and that’s the only comfort I have in what happened.”

Silently agreeing, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, your grandparents had softened in their age, his parents and your father caring for them together. Soft in their endearment too, not suited for a life of constant unrest, of constant fear and paranoia. Of scrounging for food and basic supplies, having to defend what was yours by any means necessary.

“I was traveling with a man from Boston QZ and a girl, we were trying to find her family out this way. The last lead would’ve taken us to the University of Eastern Colorado.” You admitted over dinner the next day, having taught Adela the basics of how to properly interact with a horse, how to climb up in the saddle. While she was tall, she was skinny. Alarmingly so, but Angelo assured you that he always made sure she had enough to eat. He was willing to go without to provide for her, to ensure her still growing body had as much as it needed, or close to it at least.

“We were just there,” He took a breath, savoring the smell of the coffee that you had brewed for him as you all settled around the fire for the night. Scraps of foil that had contained easy, portioned meals to through on the fire that Maria had provided you with. “Well, around there. We came across a group of people settled into an old lodge town. Not to far from the city actually.”

Something about the man’s tone had you delaying your questions until Adela had laid down to rest for the night, tired from the day of interaction. But she was warming up to you, a familiar comfortability between you both as you talked to her about her mother. She admitted quietly that Angelo wasn’t willing to talk about their parents, people she had never had the chance to meet. The chaos of Outbreak day and those following it too much for him to talk about.

“We-uh, we left the group pretty quickly.” The man cleared his throat, turning around to ensure that his little sister was indeed asleep and not feigning it in order to eavesdrop. “The leader, god – what was his name? It doesn’t matter, he was so nice at first. Preaching about how people need to stick together, that his flock chose him to lead them and look after them.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, religious fanatics always putting you on edge. The way they manipulated the words of the bible in order to further their own agenda. And the way Angelo described him as initially nice and welcoming. A ploy, a trap laid out to ensnare people.

“But the first morning there, he came to visit us in the small set up they provided us with. Asked Adela to go out on a walk with him while I was still asleep. She hadn’t wanted to go, but felt obligated. Like he was just going to give her a tour or somethin’ and it was harmless, ya know?”

The rush of blood in your ears was loud, but you strained against it, needing to hear the words coming from the man beside you.

“He- that motherfucker, he exposed himself to her. Said that if she wanted to stay and use their resources that she needed to earn her keep. She begged me to leave right that second, to gather our stuff and make a run for it. But I don’t her we needed to act like nothing happened, to wait until nightfall and take what we could. So we did….but if you said you were traveling with a girl…brown hair, short, scar in her eyebrow?”

“Yes.” You breathed out, body thrumming with fear. No….no…there was no way Ellie could’ve been taken by the same men. She wouldn’t willingly go with anyone, had been hesitant to even let you or Joel out of her sight for too long….That meant…Joel had to have been injured in order for them to steal her away from him.

“She was unconscious, they were…they were carrying her into the settlement.”

Your head shot up, drink spilling over your hands cupped around the thermos.

“No.” You stood, hands steady despite the flood of emotions raging around in your mind. “No, no, no. I know those people, without them I wouldn’t have made it back out this way. We traveled from the other coast.”

It was late, but you didn’t care. You were gathering everything you needed, your pack and half of the food supply.

Adela roused at the noise, springing up and reaching for your hands.

“No, please, don’t leave us. We’ve lost too much already.” Tears were in her wide eyes, tugging at your heart in more ways than one. You crouched down in front of her, clasping your gloved hands around her own. Giving her your undivided attention.

“Honey, please, listen to me. I’m- I – I don’t want to leave you two, but I have to. Please understand. The girl that you saw, that was…she’s important to me. And she needs my help. I’ll see you again, I promise. I swear to you, Adela, I will see you again. Behind the walls of Jackson, we can…we can have a life there.”

Standing, you pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I’ll tell you embarrassing stories about your brother from when we were little.”

Pulling the map from your pocket, you circled the spot for Jackson with a marker.

“Here, this map will get you back to a settlement. Jackson. It’s large, has walls, it works. Ask for Maria or Tommy, tell them my name and that I sent you. Tell them you’re my family, you are. Take this,” You moved to wrap your old coat you had draped over your lap over the small frame of the girl and push the map that would lead them back to Jackson in the man’s hands.

The man surged up and gripped you tight in a bear hug, his body wrapped completely around you like he would do ever since he had begun to tower over you as children.

“Please, be safe!”

“Seek refuge in Jackson. I’ll return there, I promise.” You urged as you mounted the horse, reigns tight in your hands.

You clicked your tongue and tugged hard, urging the horse forward. The sound of hooves beating on the frozen ground was the only sound in the quiet, frozen night.

The remains of the a few bodies were scattered about the derelict campus that had been the destination sought out by them. Joel and Ellie. Those you were searching for nowhere to be seen, only hints of them in the bullet casings, the torn-up dirt, a bat broken in half- the jagged ends of one piece soaked in a deep red stain of blood. Joel’s, if your cousin’s words and your spiraling thoughts were correct.

Internally cursing at the man for pulling it out, for not waiting for a better moment, for not thinking in the haze his mind must’ve been.

Just as you began to trace the trail of rather fat droplets, you heard the crunch of someone stepping on fallen leaves behind you. Before you could even turn around completely to face them, someone was wrapping their arms around your neck, cutting off your air.

Your last thought was of Angelo and Adela. Of Joel and Ellie.

‘It was hot. Sweltering. And your dress was too tight over your swollen middle. It was a small bump, barely visible from the front, more so from the side. You had thought you indulged in too much food one evening after a deer had been caught but the teasing jab soon delved into something more serious. Especially when the swelling hadn’t gone down in the following days and nausea became a morning ritual.

You had been ecstatic, a first for you. And exciting thing you had always wanted. A faint thought you hadn’t entertained even in a working world, a notion you hadn’t thought possible at all with the demise of the world. When you had told him, Taylor had shared in your excitement, immediately beginning to hoard everything he could loot from the nearby state park. Gathering everything you could use, whether it was to repurpose it or store it for the future.

You had found a pocket of happiness and security in the rubble of the world, hidden deep in the forests of Tennessee in the form of a man who welcomed you into his space when all you had wanted to do was run. Finding yourself injured and needing aid, he had offered it to you.

What had begun as a small stay to ensure you would heal okay, that your stitches were secure and wouldn’t pull. But the conversations that flowed from one to another over those first few days tied you to each other. Braiding together your futures in such a wonderful way. There was no way to know how badly the universe would fray the untethered strings.

The only consolation was that the nights were cooler, the evenings and mornings twinged with a chill that signaled the end of an unseasonable warm fall. But as time moved on, Taylor had pleaded with you to consider staying close to the cabin. You had agreed, the symptoms of your pregnancy making it hard to do much of anything for long. Hunting and patrolling far too much for you to handle at the moment.

You were tending to the horses when he appeared behind you, arms snaking around your shoulders. The tickling of his facial hair sprouting giggles from you. The horses snickered, sharing in your delight. After securing them back in the modest stable, large hands were wrapping around you and sweeping you off of your tired feet.

“C’mon, princessa, let’s go have a nap.”

“But I don’t wanna,” You whined, not wanting to waste the sunshine while it was still showing, winters notoriously gray and overcast in this part of the region. The looming mountains casting dark shadows over pockets of land. Thankfully the cabin wasn’t in one of those regions, hidden well by the tall trees and stained a dark green all along the roof to avoid searching eyes to those at a higher altitude.

“Who said we were gonna sleep, silly girl?” Taylor swooped down to kiss you fully on the lips. Stirring warmth in your core. With a deep laugh at the chasing of your lips after his, he carefully rushed up the stairs and through the front door. “I’m gonna devour you, you’re too good looking a snack to leave untouched.”

“Oh hush,” You curled your hands into the long hair he had tied into a bun at the back of his head. Taking the band from around it and causing the strands to cascade around his handsome face.

“Glowing and full of me, carrying our baby in your pretty little tummy. Good god, you’re constantly on my mind, princessa, you’re my entire world.”

“And you’re mine, mi amor.”

Bubbling giggles flowed through the cabin as he made his way up the stairs and through the small landing. Into the bedroom that you found happiness in the midst of the fallen world.’

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