#idk if this makes sense but it's a friday and work has turned my brain to mush | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

es-kay-zee · 3 years

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Lust | Lee Know x Reader

I had plans to make this kinky as all hell, but I somehow ended up going the opposite direction with this. oh well, it was still pretty fun to write. I’m also sorry if there’s parts of it (or all of it?) that don’t make any sense. I didn’t proofread it at all and my head was just empty while writing it.

I was kinda liking it at one point, then I overthought about it and now I think I hate it but I put in all this time so it’s getting posted. I just feel like it kinda went all over the place

Warnings: officemate! au, sexual tension (maybe? Idk, i tried), fem! reader, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), protected sex (yay!) there’s like a split second of softdom! Minho, but other than that moment there’s not really any dynamics.

Requested: Yip

Word count: 4.6k

_______________________

It didn’t take a genius amongst your co-workers to be able to tell what was going on between you and Minho. Everyone could see the way you looked at each other. They could see the way you took extra time at the printer, considering it was right next to his desk. You would stand there for longer than necessary, just watching him work. How his fingers would type away on his keyboard, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. God, what you would do to have his fingers inside you.

No, you can’t think like that. He’s just your co-worker. He may be hot as all hell, but this is a professional environment, right?

It was also painfully obvious to everyone how Minho looked at you the same way. Just as you would spend extra time at the printer, he would spend extra time at your desk whenever he had to hand you some files. He would try to make some idle chit-chat with you, but really, he was just staring at your lips the whole time. While you would admire his hands and arms, he would admire your lips. He often found himself wondering just what your mouth was capable of.

Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t only see you as some pretty thing around the office. He also admired your dedication and work ethic. He loved how much effort you put into your job to ensure you produce the pest quality of work. But he wasn’t stupid, he could see just how hot you are.

But he’s not allowed to think of you in that way. He’s not allowed to spend many a night imagining your hand, your mouth wrapped around his cock instead of his hand. After all, you’re just co-workers. And it’s all professional, right?

That’s what you both keep telling yourselves.

It’s a normal Friday, not long before midday, and you’re zoning out at your desk, trying to figure out what the hell you were going to do over the weekend. You’d originally had plans to meet up with a few friends, but they all cancelled on you, leaving you with nothing to do on the approaching Saturday and Sunday.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by someone waving a small folder in front of your face.

“Hey, earth to y/n?” You snap your attention onto the figure in front of you, quickly realising that it is, in fact, Lee Minho who’s standing at your desk. You hurriedly fix your posture, sitting up straighter and clearing you throat quietly before responding.

“A-are those some more files that need doing?” The way you stutter over your words has you internally cringing, hoping he can’t tell the effect he has over your body.

“Yeah, they’re the latest invoices that have come in. These ones need to be paid by Tuesday and then these ones need to be paid by Thursday,” he explains to you, holding up the two separate folders in his hands.

Reaching out your hand for the folders, you feel your fingertips brush against his once you grab them. You withdraw your hands as quickly as possible, feeling your heartbeat pick up slightly as the subtle contact. Your gaze lingered on his arms for a moment, his sleeves rolled up just the way you liked. Minho is so effortlessly attractive that it’s unfair.

You pry your eyes away from his forearms, away from the veins you can see running along his arms, instead looking at his face. The moment you look him in the eyes, however, you can’t help but think that maybe staring at his arms would have been the better option. His eyes were just as pretty as the rest of him, but the way he was looking at you right now, the way he was staring so intently at you, had you cowering slightly under his gaze.

“So, you had lunch yet?” he asks, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you, resting his hands in his pockets.

“Not yet, was just about to head up to the cafeteria shortly,” you reply, your eye focus being caught by his stance. You can picture it, him standing over you just the way he is now, hands in pockets, forearms visible, smirk on his face. Just imagining him standing there like that, looking down at you like you’re some sort of prey while you’re on your knees for him. Slowly undoing his belt and-

“Well, I was gonna head up now. Wanna join me?” you are once again pulled from your wandering thoughts by Minho, but the damage had already been done. You could feel your neediness throbbing in your pussy, your slickness slightly coating your underwear.

“Uh, sure,” you say, quickly locking your computer and grabbing your lunch.

You walk with Minho back towards his own desk so that he can pick up his own food before making your way up stairs to the third floor. Once you both make it to the cafeteria for the shelves. You grab your mug before making yourself a coffee, Minho doing the same next to you.

You both head towards a back corner of the large room, finding two seats at a small coffee table. A small conversation begins between the two of you, somewhat awkward, but not uncomfortably so. The occasional silences weren’t left empty, instead being filled with lingering glances at one another.

You make it through all your food and just over half of your coffee before it happens. Disaster. Minho has looked away from you for just a moment and the sunlight cascading through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows hit him in just the right way. It made him glow in the light, distracting you while you took a drink from your mug. You weren’t focusing on anything but how delicious he looked in front of you, ending up with you tipping your mug up to far and spilling it all down your front and onto your lap.

Your small yelp snaps his attention back to you and you both just stare down at your soiled clothes. Heat rushes to your face when you realise the exact repercussions of what’s just happened, and the heat spreads when you notice that Minho has also realised it. Your white blouse drenched in coffee; the material becoming see through. Minho’s gaze lingers on your chest for a moment too long for between normal co-workers, your bra entirely visible through the now coffee-coloured fabric.

Minho clears his throat before speaking. “Uh- I’ll g-get something to help clean that up,” he stutters out, standing up as quickly as possible before rushing off to grab some napkins. It’s not long before he returns, a whole stack in his grip.

He places them on the table, taking his seat again. Picking a couple napkins back up he turns his whole body towards you. Your breathing stutters when he leans in close to you, your eyes looking deep into his as he freezes in place.

He’s torn. Torn between wanting to help you for your sake, wanting to help you for the sake of being able to touch you, and not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and he wonders if you can hear it too. Especially with how close the proximity currently is between you two.

He takes a deep breath before making a decision about whether or not to help you clean up. He reaches his hand out, carefully beginning to dab at the spilled drink on your lap, fully expecting to be told to stop.

You tense under his touch, but not out of discomfort. It’s the way his hand moves along your thigh that has you frozen. Your thigh. One of the more sensitive parts of your body, and his hand is rubbing back and forth along it. The contact causing your brain to short circuit as you feel the heat begin to pool in your core.

“Um… Make sure to soak these clothes before you wash them. That should help get any stains out,” Minho says, trying to ease the tension.

“Oh, yeah, thanks. I’ll be sure to do that,” you reply, his voice snapping you out of your stupor. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to ignore your growing arousal.

Minho has to fight back his own increasing need at the sight of you nibbling on your lower lip, wanting little more than for it to be his own teeth tugging at the soft flesh. But what really gets him, is you taking a few napkins and beginning to dab at the coffee on your shirt, unintentionally pulling his gaze back down to your chest. Now he was fighting back groans, trying desperately to let the sounds die in his throat before you get the chance to hear them. That would be too embarrassing for him to handle.

It’s not long before you sigh a heavy sigh, giving up the hopes of being able to save your outfit and keep your presentability for the workplace, accepting it as a lost cause. Minho stops his own wiping at the sound, looking at you instead, waiting for you to speak.

“You know what, this is a mess. I might as well just head home for the rest of the day. There’s no point sitting here at my desk all day like this,” you say, looking down at your clothes. “Besides, most of my work is done for the day anyway.”

It’s only when you lift your head up when you finish speaking that you realise just how close Minho’s face is to your own. Close enough for you to feel his breaths against your cheek. Your eyes dart down to his lips, but only for a split second, not wanting to make your arousal so obvious. Minho, however, notices. But luckily for you, he decides not to say anything about it. Yet.

“That sounds like a good idea. Uh… here,” he says, removing his blazer jacket and holding it out to you.

You reach out and grab it, your fingers once again momentarily connecting with his as you take the item he’s passing you. You both rise to your feet and you give him a confused look, wondering why he’s handing you his blazer.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to walk around with a see-through shirt,” he explains in response to your unspoken question.

The heat returns to your cheeks at his statement, quickly pulling the clothing item on and buttoning it up, making an attempt to cover yourself.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s some part of you that doesn’t really want to cover yourself, that wants Minho to see you. But you push that part aside. After all, you’ve got to maintain some sort of professionalism. “We should probably head back down now.”

“Yeah.”

You both gather your belongings, taking your mugs over to the dirty dishes rack and placing them in along with all the other dishes. Yet another silence befalls the two of you as you make your way back down the stairs to your floor, the quietness neither comfortable nor awkward. Something in between.

Finally reaching your floor, you make a beeline for your desk, aiming to grab your bag and get out of here as quickly as possible. But before you grab your things and head into your boss’s office to say that you’re leaving early, you pause, turning back to Minho again, stopping him before he gets too far away.

“I’ll get your jacket back to you on Monday if you want. I’ll even get it cleaned to make sure there’s no coffee on it.”

He takes a moment to think, once again torn between options. One being just saying okay and letting you just bring it to work with you on Monday. And the other option… Well, if the way you were almost whining when he was touching your thigh earlier is anything to go by, then the second option might just work out for him. Fuck it.

“Or you could bring it over to my place? Tonight? I-if you want to,” he says, making sure to keep his voice only loud enough for you to hear, not wanting any nosy co-workers listening in.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as you think of the possible outcomes of you going over to his house, albeit under the guise of simply returning his blazer. You can already feel yourself growing wetter at the thoughts running through your mind. You blink rapidly, shaking your head slightly to yourself, remembering that you have to answer him instead of just standing there daydreaming all day.

“You’re in luck. I was gonna go out for a few drinks tonight, but my friends all cancelled on me. So, it turns out that I’m available,” you say, fighting hard to keep your voice steady and to not let on just how needy you were.

“Well, you could always have those drinks with me while you’re over,” he offers, stepping closer to your desk.

“I could.”

You both smirk at each other, knowing exactly what the outcome of tonight will be. Minho searches around your desk for a moment, eventually finding and grabbing a sticky note and a pen. He scribbles something down before handing it to you.

“That’s my address. See you at 7?”

“Sure thing, see you then.”

He smirks at you again before finally heading back to his own desk and you finally head off home, being sure to stop in and let your boss know you’re leaving.

______________________

Before long, 7 o’clock rolls around and you’re sitting in your car, parked on the road-side, opposite Minho’s house. Checking yourself in your rear-view mirror quickly, you make sure you look presentable before getting out of your car, his blazer draped over your arm. You’re somewhat nervous as you approach his front door, reaching up and knocking. It only takes a short moment before the door swings open, revealing Minho. He steps backwards, holding the door open as he gestures for you to enter. You step past him and into the house, taking in his appearance while he closes the door behind you.

His outfit is simple, a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans, but to you he looks damn fine. His jeans are tight enough to show off his thighs while not being too tight that it would create any struggle to remove quickly. That’s handy. And his shirt leaves his delicious arms on display. You look up at his face just to see him staring at you in the same way you were just starting at him. Like you’re the single best thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Hi,” you say, bringing his attention back to the current moment. He blinks a few times, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts.

“Hey, you look really good.” He gestures towards your dress. You chose one that was simple, yet effective at its job. You wanted to wear something that showed off your legs, something that would get his attention. And judging by the way he kept looking you up and down, it was working.

“Here’s you blazer,” you say, holding it out for him.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” he replies, having already forgotten that he’d even let you borrow it in the first place. “I’ll just go put that away. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

He dashes off down the hallway, presumedly towards his bedroom. To take the moment alone to take in your surroundings, noting how Minho’s house had a very homely feel to it.

You take a seat on the couch while you wait for him to return. And it doesn’t take him long to do just that, already walking back up the hallway towards where you are. He heads to the kitchen first, grabbing a couple of glasses.

“I have some wine here. Want some?” he offers.

“Sure,” you say, knowing that soon enough the drinks will be abandoned in favour of other activities.

It’s not long before Minho approaches you, two glasses of wine in his hands. He hands one to you before taking a seat in the spot next to you on the couch. Directly next to you. He’s so close that the side of his leg rests against yours, but you’re not complaining.

“Try not to get too distracted by me again,” he says, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “We wouldn’t want you to spill another drink.”

You both laugh at his teasing statement, but your mind focuses on the word again and you realise that he did know the causing of today’s earlier mishap. Well, that’s a bit embarrassing.

The next short while is filled with more idle chit-chat, a measly attempt at wasting time before getting down to business. The entire time you’re talking, Minho’s arm is resting along the back of the couch behind your head and he’s very shamelessly eye fucking you. In his defence though, you’re doing the exact same thing to him.

“Do you want another glass?” Minho asks when you finish your wine, placing his hand that’s not currently resting on the back of the couch on your thigh. You let out an audible breath as his hand softly caresses the flesh, the feeling sending pools of arousal directly to your heat. As his fingers slowly trail further up, beginning to disappear under the skirt of your dress, you know that he’s not really offering you another drink. It’s his way of moving the conversation along, of asking you if you’re ready to do what you truly came here for.

And you’d be damned if you weren’t ready.

His fingers continue to travel higher, skimming along your inner thigh, avoiding where you desperately need him. You bite your lip, trying to stifle a whimper. It doesn’t work, and it instead draws Minho’s focus to your mouth. And he’s back to thinking about your mouth, how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock. The idea alone has him growing painfully hard in his jeans. Hell, he’d do anything to have your lips on him, in any way.

“M-Minho, please,” you whisper, wanting him to stop his teasing caresses and finally touch you the way you want. The way you need.

“Please what?”

“Please t-touch me.”

“Touch you? I am touching you,” he says, stopping his hand’s movements and instead just resting it in place.

“No, please touch my p-pussy,” you say, your hands coming up to cover your face, embarrassment coursing through your body, causing your face to heat up.

Normally, Minho smirked at you, getting a kick out of how flustered you are.

“Ah, I see. Well, if you want that to happen then you have to prove to me how much you want it.”

And that has you whining.

You quickly manoeuvre yourself so that you’re straddling Minho’s lap, tired of waiting for him to provide you with some much needed friction. Your hands rest on his shoulders, his own flying to your hips when you slowly, experimentally grind down on him. Your actions get the best reward, in the form on a shaky moan from Minho, and that’s the moment you can tell that this whole thing is affecting him just as much as it’s affecting you.

When he told you to prove it, he was expecting you to just get more flustered. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to make such a bold move. You roll your hips against him again, this time drawing a moan from yourself. One of his hands slides up your back, grabbing the zipper for your dress and slowly sliding it down. Once he has it undone, he pulls the dress up and off your body, revealing your lack of bra underneath. Shit, he hadn’t even noticed earlier that you weren’t wearing one, he was too distracted by your legs. He looks up at you, his own lust-filled eyes meeting yours, watching you lean in closer to him. Closer, and closer.

And then your lips – those oh so pretty lips – were on his own, moving together in a rush of adrenaline and lust. There was no delicacy in the kiss, only pure wanton desire as your hands roamed each other’s bodies. You’d both been waiting for this for so long. Craving it.

His hands slide down to your ass, kneading the flesh. He’s quick to stand up, keeping you held up, your legs wrapping around his torso. He carries you down the hallway, only breaking the kiss for a split second at a time to make sure he didn’t bump into anything, before he would dive back into your lips. Your kisses were intoxicating, addicting. Minho just couldn’t get enough. Even when he finally made it to his bedroom, dropping you down onto the bed, he still doesn’t pull away. It’s only when you pull away for breath that he stops, you both panting deeply from the lack of oxygen for so long.

Your hands glide across his linen-clad chest, the fabric warmed from his hot skin. He groans lowly at your touch, desperately wanting more. One of his own hands finds it’s way to your breast, his thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple.

His touch is soft, gentle. He’s testing the waters, wanting to figure out what you like, what touches really get you going. He knows he’s on the right track when your back arches slightly at the contact, and he grazes his thumbs over the nub again, harder this time.

You can feel how soaked you are, your underwear beginning to stick to you uncomfortably. You buck your hips upwards, trying desperately to get some sort of solid friction going, the aching between your legs bordering on painful. Sensing just how strong your need is, Minho pulls away from you, moving down the bed until he’s laying between your thighs, his fingers already dipping into the waistband of your underwear.

He wastes little time in pulling the fabric down your legs and tossing them off to the side. And now, finally, after so long of wanting it, he’s able to gaze upon your pussy, glistening with your juices.

“Holy shit, you’re so wet you’re dripping,” he exclaims, looking up and making eye contact with you. And it makes you clench around nothing when you look at the man that’s remained on your mind with his head between your thighs.

“Only for you,” you reply, even your voice dripping with need. Minho looks back down at your soaked cunt and, in the split seconds before his touch, every nerve in your body and mind comes alive with electricity. He licks one long stripe along your entrance, and the moan you let out is obscene. And he loves it.

Minho is filled with a new determination, a determination to make you moan over and over again. To have you feeling so good that you’re screaming his name.

He circles his lips around your clit, working the nerve bundle with his mouth while he brings a hand down to work your entrance. He slides a digit it, immediately curling it in search of your special spot. He quickly adds a second finger, continuing his search for your g-spot. He knows he’s finally found it when your hands go flying to his head, threading into his hair, tugging hard. He groans at the sensation, loving the way your hands feel in his hair. God, everything you do just turns him on, and he begins to unconsciously rut his hips into the mattress. He continues working your core while you moan uncontrollably.

“F-fuck, Minho. I’m s-so close,” you manage to whimper out, but he already knows. The way your walls tighten around his fingers over and over tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do it, baby. Cum for me,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice, your orgasm washing over you with more force than you expected. He finger-fucks you through your high, only stopping when your body stops convulsing in waves of pleasure. He pulls his hand away from your core, a whine escaping you at the empty feeling. If he could make you cum that hard with just his fingers and mouth, how on earth are you going to survive cumming on his cock?

He crawls back up your body, placing his arousal-coated fingers at your lips. You open your mouth with no hesitation, immediately sucking the digits in, swirling your tongue over them as you sucked. The sight alone almost had Minho cumming in his jeans. For so long, all he’s wanted is your lips around some part of him, and while he also wanted to be graces with the visual of you sucking on his cock like your life depended on it, he was more desperate to just fuck you.

He wastes no more time in ridding himself of his clothes until he’s completely bare, reaching into his bedside table draw for a condom. positioning himself above you once again. He’s about to open the condom packet before you stop him, taking it from his hands opening it yourself. He moans when you slide the condom down his length, your hands feeling better on his cock than his own ever could.

The moment you lie back down, he lines himself up with your entrance, not wanting to go another moment without being inside you. He pushes into you, not stopping until his hips rest against yours, the room filling with moans as your bodies finally connect. His cock stretches your walls so perfectly, like two puzzle pieces made for each other.

After a brief pause, he slowly pulls back you, only to thrust back into you. He repeats the motions, gradually settling into a solid pace, not to fast and not too slow, a perfect balance of the two.

He drags his lips up the soft skin of your neck placing sloppy kisses as over, being sure not to leave any marks. As much as he wanted to mark you where it was visible, he couldn’t. He didn’t want you to have to go through the hassle of covering them each day at work while you wait for them do disappear. Instead, he opted for sucking bruises into your collarbones and along your chest.

Your brain felt like static, unable to string together a single coherent thought as Minho continues to thrust into you, pleasure radiating throughout your entire body. The knot in your stomach grows tighter for the second time during the night, and from the way Minho’s thrusts are getting sloppier, you can tell that he’s close to his own end as well.

He slides his free hand in between the two of you, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into the bundle of nerves, and you feel yourself unravel, his fingers being the final to push you over the edge. And it’s your fluttering walls that has the same effect on Minho. You both ride out your highs together, him spilling into the condom and you around his cock. Your loud moans are music to his ears, while his are the same to yours.

Once you both come back down from your highs, Minho pulls himself away from you, quickly disposing of the condom before coming back to lay next to you.

Your body feels heavy, your brain foggy and distant, a tiredness falling over your entire being, exhausted from your orgasms. You groggily roll onto your side, curling your body up into Minho’s and almost instantly drifting off into sleep. He wraps an arm around you in return, feeling sleep approach for him as well. He rests his face against the top of your sleeping head, placing a chaste kiss to your hair. And just before he let himself fall asleep, he made sure plan out in his mind what he was gonna cook you for breakfast in the morning; pancakes.

#stray kids smut #lee know smut #skz lee minho smut #skz smut

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captain-aralias · 3 years

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Life stuff

this feels kind of weird, because i’ve never used my tumblr like this, but i would have written something on my livejournal, and i want people to know - i just dont want to have to tell people about it, or really talk about it at all.

but i also wanted to write this, idk.

(TW: impending death of a parent)

my mum has cancer.

it’s a rare form of cancer, called peritoneal cancer, which is similar to but different from ovarian cancer - i think it mostly gets diagnosed (like my mum’s) when it’s too late to do anything about it. all the treatment has been palliative only i.e. letting her live as long and as comfortably as possible.

she was diagnosed in september last year - about a year ago, a few months after running the ‘virtual’ london marathon on the isle of wight, where she lives, and obviously deep in lockdown.

as someone undergoing chemo, she was deemed extremely vulnerable to covid, and so she spent most of the early pandemic isolating. she also said she didn’t see any point in my brother and i visitng her, particularly given the risks, because we could talk via facetime - which is fair enough - all of which meant my brother and i didn’t go to visit her until May this year, after she’d done the first lot of chemo and was already doing much better again.

a few months after that, we found out that while she’d responded really well to the chemo, her cancer wasn’t responding at all to the maintenance drugs that were suposed to stop it coming back, so she came off the drugs completely. medical advice was basically chemo is as effective whenever you do it, so you might as well enjoy your life for a while, we’ll monitor it every month, and when things start to get too bad, we’ll put you back in chemo.

it’s friday tomorrow - so two fridays ago, i saw my mum in london after she’d just seen hamilton with her partner, graham. both of them loved hamilton. her hair had grown back, she seemed pretty normal. about a week later, she was in A&E - and she’s been in the hospital all week. she’s got a total bowel obstruction, which means she can’t eat and hasn’t eaten since last week.

now in a weird situation where there are a few tricky, difficult options (including being moved off the island back onto the mainland to a bigger hospital) that will mean that she stays alive long enough to get the chemo, which will probably get her back to hamilton-watching strength, or ... she could die really soon. like, in a few days.

we can’t visit. her partner can’t visit because covid - there’s this really sad-making photo of him looking happy on the phone through a window to my mum, also on the phone, inside the hospital.

i feel...

???? :( :( :( ....

i guess this is the main point of the post. i’m not writing this crying, i’m writing it pretty neutrally - because my brain isn’t really processing it right now, and mostly doesn’t process it.

i did cry earlier today while on the phone to various people, and then i went back to work. i hate crying, i hate being sad, and i dont like people comforting me, because it makes me realise that i have something to be sad about.

i’ve known she had cancer for a year. i haven’t been able to hang out with her most of that time. i would say, we are fairly close, although not nearly as close as some families. we don’t talk every week, but we talk regularly, and have seen each other regularly.

i’m so incredibly privileged that nothing that bad has ever happened to me, even though i’m 35. i’ve never been to a funeral, which seemed like a major life win and now i think was a mistake, i should have gone to funerals for people i card about less to help get used to it.

the literal only comparison i have to how i feel is when my cat Anton died suddenly about 3 years ago - i handled it with a mix of not thinking about it, being intensely sad for as brief a period as i could, and probably by thinking about how sad my girlfriend was about it, and sort of sidestepping my own feelings in comparison.

i remember when my last remaining grandparent died - and i was about 14 or something - i wasn’t sad for myself, i was only sad for her my dad being sad. for ages, i worried that i was not going to be sad enough about this - and i still sort of am.

but i also passionately hate the idea of being sad and i know i’ll look to avoid it as much as possible, and try and get on with my life.

i know my mum dying isn’t about me - when people write after death it’s about the person who died, obviously. that makes sense. but this post isn’t about my mum, who is a very cool person, much cooler than me - it’s about me. because i am self-obsessed and this is going to wreck my life for a while.

it’s weird, because i can see it on the horizon but it’s not happening yet. and i dont know whether that’s good or bad - i feel like it’s good, in a way. someone ages ago told me that the grieving period starts when you get the news. that seems very true to me - but also, i know that it’s going to ramp up, and so i’m like in the expectation of true grief right now.

it’s sort of like she died, but also is still going to die, but also i can magically still talk to her. which is really nice, in a way, it’s like a second chance, because i know i didn’t reach out enough before she had cancer. and i’m aware enough of my own actions that i know this is what’s been going on in my head the past year - i should reach out more, because she has cancer, but i dont want to make it seem like i’m reaching out because she has cancer, even though she knows i know she has cancer....... and also, i’m busy writing this fic. /o\

the fact that she seemed to recover (even though my mum insisted on saying ‘i am not recovered, i’m going to die soon’ like several time as a day as a disclaimer) also totally messed with my head, because i knew logically - ok, it’s happening. but also, things seemed so normal when we speak. even when i called her today, and she hasn’t eaten for a week, it seemed normal.

btw - i realised this week i had no idea how cancer killed people. my mum is a scientist and has looked up all kinds of things about what’s killing her; i’m clearly a simon snow and didn’t want to think about things i can’t help. if you’d asked me, i’d have said like... it poisons you or something, or blocks bloodflow to your brain. not what i think will actually do it which is.... starvation. or being too weak to survive being pumped full of the poison that is intended to kill the cancer. (that one i guess i could have predicted.) man - cancer sucks. i mean, we all knew it.

(i failed to get into cambridge university at interview stage, many years ago. the man who interviewed me gave me some extremely memorable feedback, which is that i needed to dial back the ‘defensive irony’ - which i thnk in that context meant i put myself down and tried to make a joke of everything. i remember when i got the phonecall to say Anton, my cat, was dead, i literally did not know what to do with my voice - because my instinct was to try and make the vet feel better, and also to present myself as bright and capable, and yet this unexpected and devasting news had just come through. rainbow wrote something sort of similar because she’s a good writer, for shepard as he tells penny about his curse. i feel like that.)

what else did i want to say?

i thought i had more time. ‘hamilton’ will probably always be tied to this moment in my mind, because of how much i’ve spoken to my mum about it in the past few weeks (i sent her the remix - she liked it, she listened to it in hospital while trying to drink more than 100ml of fluids) but yeah - this is basically a line from hamilton here. whatever. don’t make me feel my own feelings, let me just quote things. i dont like my own feelings. (no, i dont want to go to therapy - they’d make me talk about my feelings all the time, i’m british for god’s sake.)

i’m 35 - my mum is 68. i didn’t think she’d die this early or that i’d have to deal with this yet. but then i also don’t think bad things are ever going to happen to me - because mostly they haven’t, see above. i wear a mask and am double vaccinated because i’m not an asshole, but i dont really believe i’ll get covid because bad things don’t happen to me. i didn’t think my mum would die - maybe ever, but definitely not yet. she’s been retired a decade after teaching (science) and has enjoyed it.

i thought i had time to not have kids yet - which is the other thing (like hamilton) that this moment is really tied up with for me. i feel like 35 is getting quite old, but also not that old to still not have kids, but intend to maybe have them. my feelings about kids were basically like - up until like 25, i thought, yes, definitely. i mean, before i had a realtiosnhip (22-ish), i just assumed i would probably have a het marriage and have kids etc, like people do, but after that we were still talking, yes, children at some point.

didn’t prioritise it for a few reasons - none of my close friends had children until quite recently, so it just didn’t seem like an urgent thing in the way that it probably does for people with different friendship groups. waiting to be settled enough in a job to be able to take maternity leave without it feeling like a rip off for my employer. waiting for a good time in erin’s PhD writing cycle. and then pandemic. and then a few years ago, maybe as i turned 30, i thought - maybe we won’ have kids, because we still haven’t - and i vocalised that to erin.

also, i know a lot of people are gay and have children, so it’s not like it’s a thing that is impossible at all, but it’s much much harder if you have to leave your home and your relationship in order to get a child. it has to be a very very conscious decisions. i have friend who are men who have good genes, but we’re not so close i want to ask them for their sperm/to be involved however remotely in making a child - and (i was surprised to discover) (what a lot of things i dont know anything about) you an’t really just buy sperm, it’s not truly legal except through a clinic. and it’s extremely expensive to get inseminated in a clinic, and the NHS don’t really do that, so you do have to pay it. i thought kids would be expensive after they were born, but not before. and i REALLY wanted a house, much much more than - i think even today - i’ve ever wanted a child. i REALLY wanted a house - and now we have a house, and it’s pretty good. but - that’s where the money went, until the pandemic - thanks pandemic - so now we do have some disposable cash at last, because i didn’t commute.

but now erin is worried about climate change - and wheher it’s right to bring more children into the world, and other things. and.... i think i do want to be pregnant, it’s what i’m planning for - don’t leave this job (which admittedly i also really like, and pays me well - i dont thin i need to leave) because next stop maternity leave, but.....

i don’t know whether i am thinking, time ot have kids because my best friend just had a baby (the baby’s name is horatio - for real, i actually love this name) (i also haven’t seen her or the baby except over skype, because anna - my friend - is, like my mother, also scared of pandemic) and my brain is like - ok, well, if anna is doing it, i guess the time is here

AND - i know there’s a large part of me that was like, gotta be pregnant and ideally have the baby before my mum dies so she gets to see that she had a grandchild. my brother and i are both queer, btw, in case you were wondering - he’s considering whether he wants to transition right now (but is still happy with he/him pronouns) and - you may find this astonishing, but i genuinely don’t know whether he’d consider himself ace, or has been in relationships. he’s very private, he has OCD and is in therapy - but anyway, he’s probably not having kids anytime soon (i think!) and graham - my mum’s boyfriend/partner of 10+ years. -has grandchildren, but my extremely middleclass white (but definitely not conservative voters, always 100% not-tory) parents ended up with me and my brother.... and i don’t know, as i say, i don’t know whether my brain is saying ‘have kids before it’s too late’ - although i know by now that it will be too late. even if my mum recovers from this, this time, i don’t think i can produce a child before she dies - and she isn’t asking me too, she’s not like that, but i would have liked her to be there. i thought she would be.

so - i’m thinking about that. also, about getting a dog. i really want a dog - although i don’t want to upset the three cats (one we’ve had for eight years or so, the other two we got after Anton died). it’s ALSO really hard and expensive to get a dog. you’d think with all these ‘a dog isn’t just for the pandemic, a dog is for life’ type adverts around, that it would be easy to adcidentally get a dog - i’ve looked! you ccan’t get a dog unless you have no cats and you’re super experienced and can take a dog with lots of trauma or medical problems, or you’re willing to pay thousands of pounds. like - even for a regular not even pedigree dog - at least a thousand. pedigree dog - several thousand. i dont want a puppy either - i want a dog.

and - this is embarrassing to admit, but i’ve alrady told erin - i genuinely had a phase of being super annoyed when i’d read fics where someone just ‘got a dog’. it’s not that simple!!! it’s fiction, it doesn’t matter - chill out. the baby thing too - although weirdly not fics where magic meant it was possible to get a baby, weirdly it was smut. i had a brief week or so of crazy (and i don’t think i am that crazy) where i’d read about fictional semen and just be like - wtf, it’s so hard to get hold of that shit. (it’s not real, this isn’t real semen being wasted, calm down - and i dont even really know if i want kids, i might just think i do.)

the other thing about the bad thing being soon but not yet (but also being all the time, but not if you dnt think about it) is that i’m thinking - should i prioritise writing my remix now, in case my mum dies and i’m too sad to do it, and then i didn’t do my remix? i was definitely thinking this while writing classroom politics (i hope my mum doesn’t die becaue i dont want to be too sad to miss the deadline) and in the run up to AWTWB .....

today i wrote a list of things for work that would need to be picked up if i have to unexpectedly stop working, either because i’m too sad, or because i have to do funeral stuff, or .... i guess legal stuff about settling the estate. (i guess this happens to a lot of people, too, but it’s also a bit of a mindfuck that my brother and i will inherit her house and a bunch of cash when she dies - i’m pretty well off, my brotehr does virtual reality theatre stuff so really isn’t - we’ve talked about how much easier both of our lives will be with a huge injection of cash, and how we dont know what to feel about that) (great news, dogs and kids are really expensive! time to find out whether i really wanted to spend my money on those.) told people i like at work that it’s coming, and that i dont want to talk about it. and mostly just... carrying on with life, really. until it happens.

it’s so weird how easy it is to carry on most of the time.i know my mum’s partner is not doing nearly so well - he has to cope with an empty house and he’s retired. i’ve had periods - including right now - where i wake up every morning and check my phone to see whehter someone called me or texted me to tell me it’s over. but most of the day i’m actually really fine. i even had an ok day today. and i don’t know whether i want that to be the case, or whether i shouldn’t let myself do that. i dont know what i should prepare for in terms of where i’ll be - will i want lots of stuff to distract me (this is my guess) and work is very good for that, or i will want to clear time and space because i can’t operate and dont want people to offer me comfort. (FYI - this post isn’t written to make people say anything to me, i definitely dont want to talk about it, so please don’t feel you either have to comment or check in on me - i don’t really want you to. it’s enough to have written it, in my own time, in my own space.)

i think i wanted to write this post in a way because i thought i probably wouldnt want to write it after my mum died - because i probably wouldn’t want to say anything about it at all, for a few years.

my mum keeps telling me about the show ‘jane the virgin’ - which she’s half way through. shhe asked me to give it a try, so i did (she often tells me about shows on radio 4, which i rarely listen to. i thouht i had more time.) i’ve watched an episode (because she has cancer, i should listen to her recommendations)(but i dont want her to know that’s why i did it) and i do quite like - it’s light and frothy and well cut together (although about kids and artificial insemination, of course). i guess in a worse case scenario where i’m too sad to work or write, i will probably watch a lot of this show - which is incredibly not sad - and feel sad about how my mum never finished it.

BUT ALSO SHE MIGHT BE OK. for a while.

i dont know how i feel, blargh. anyway. this was a long post. i think i wrote it mostly for me. feelings are weird. covid really sucks and so does cancer.

going to order some chicken and watch inuyasha.

#my content #tw: death #tw: death of a parent #tw: death of a loved one #personal #tw: cancer

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kinetic-elaboration · 2 years

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November 19: Week In Review

This week took so much out of me lol, I don’t even know. It went by faster than anticipated, which I think is good, but it also means that I am ill-prepared for my days off. I don’t feel like I’m actually on vacation now?

B has been inhaling Shirley Jackson and texting me his reactions and thoughts at literally all hours, so we’ve been talking even more than we usually do. (Now that he’s done with both books I sent him that will probably drop off... which is a bit of a bummer tbh.) That’s kept me somewhat on my toes.

Monday was a fairly normal day... I was working remotely, mostly reading, staff meeting. Wrote some lists.

Tuesday, I went into work, and afterwards I went on a Pharmacy Adventure. Part of switching pharmacies was to make it more convenient to pick up my prescriptions and it’s kinda working... but idk, man, this was a whole to-do. First, because it was dark already, I decided to ride up to the end of the line and then go back around, so I’d do less walking, and also only have to cross the street once since I don’t trust that intersection at all even in daylight. But there were some people at the back of the bus who were...kinda on the edge of a fight? I could feel the tension among them--it was a group of friends and one guy who wasn’t too keen on them, and this guy who wasn’t keen was getting a little scary.

Anyway, they all got off at the end of the line and then we turned around to head the other way. The bus wasn’t announcing the stops for some reason and it is PITCH FUCKING BLACK at literally 5:30 PM so I couldn’t see jack shit. So I just kinda guessed which stop and I STILL don’t know if I picked the right one. End game, though, was me walking around the outlets very quickly losing all sense of direction. I (ironically) flew too close to the sun--I thought I could figure out where a store I’ve been meaning to visit was, but between looking for it and getting distracted by the large Christmas ornaments, I got all turned around and then I just had to straight up guess where to go. Awful. I found the pharmacy finally, and got the prescriptions, and also a scented candle that I will /probably/ gift to a co-worker for the holiday gift exchange.

Then I decided to get a coffee at Starbucks as a reward since it’s literally on the way home, and I saw a racoon! Or some kinda animal.

Mom and I were going to have a “quick” phone call about grocery shopping for Thanksgiving, which of course was not actually short, it was 2 hours long.

Wednesday was also long because I had to actually do said shopping after work. It was pretty exhausting. I did get a ride home, though, which helped a lot, and for dinner I had a sandwich and some chips that were left over from a law school event, so at least I didn’t have to Suffer for not cooking on Tuesday.

Thursday I woke up late because I’d been having weird/anxiety dreams, and I spent the whoooooole day reading for work. Didn’t have a department meeting even to break it up because my supervisor was out sick (booster shot side effects). I did cook in the evening, but I took my sweet time getting to it. So, subsequently, I did not get much sleep.

Today was Friday but lacked any sort of Friday energy. I had a lot of random tasks to do, and I did most of them, but I still feel... unsatisfied, like I’m missing something. Like I did something wrong. Probably just my sleep-deprived brain screaming for a break lol. Toward the end of the day, my co-worker’s wife and son did show up (major Friday event) but I was already about 10 minutes from walking out the door. So, not a huge distraction.

After work, I planned to get a coffee and pastry and sit outside (it’s... cold but not that cold, lol, I’m tough) and maybe write down some thoughts on the SGAU, try to get into that again. But then I ran into the new reference librarian, D, and we decided to sit outside together and talk. It was really nice! I told her about how CW used to look pre-pandemic and some tips for the staff gift exchange. We talked about everything being on an app, and different laundry set ups, and college. Random stuff.

I took the bus home so I could talk to BL a little, which was nice, and then I finally got home at 6:30. But since then I have truly been... almost too tired to function. I think this is a Classic Introverted Response to events. Like, the existence of events. People. Things out of the ordinary, or out of the routine. My whole self is just going into hibernation mode, like, nope, we Shall Not do anything until the battery is recharged with solitude and quiet.

I wish I could just vegetate tomorrow but I HAVE to go the farmer’s market to get stuff for Thanksgiving. While I’m out, I think I’ll grab a(nother) coffee and actually do some writing-on-writing. Hopefully. The inertia on this project is uh... bad lol.

#the year 2021 #2021: rl

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jinxhallows · 2 years

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A Chaotic Freewrite Pt. 5

Ok. Bear with me. This part has a lot of chaos. Idk if its cause I’m writing to goddamn Hans Zimmer (cinematic music) but I definitely cried writing my own shit? Like why am I voluntarily traumatizing myself?? lmfao deadass crying as I post this. Goodluck, yall.

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Eijirou “Eij” Kirishima

The car ride to Shoto’s home was relatively silent. Bakugou wasn’t keen on going on, what he kept saying was a ‘wild goose chase’ to find someone who he insisted ‘didn’t want to be found’. I knew he was here solely on the strength of our friendship. Our bodies were exhausted, bruised and battered from an earlier encounter with some unexpectedly strong villains that tried to hold hostages in a bank. Crime was starting to get ugly again, at an alarming rate.

This wasn’t an ideal day to do extracurriculars after work; but Bakugou and I had agreed on Friday, so here we were. He had a permanent scowl on his face, brows furrowed as his fingers bounced around on his phone screen, his head leaning against the car window.

I sat back in my seat and sighed, driving with one hand as my other arm hung out the window, allowing the cool evening breeze to drift in and air dry my sticky, sweaty hair.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to really stop villains from doing all this bad shit? Like honestly.”

“What a dumb question. Of course not.” Bakugou scoffed, never taking his eyes off the screen, “That’s how we make a living.”

I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter before loosening my grip as my thoughts ping ponged back and forth in my skull. “What’s the end goal then, man?”

Bakugou sat up in his chair with a sigh, pushing his phone into his jean pocket. “There is no end goal, Kiri. We keep chaos under control. It’s a job.” I could feel him glance over at me, “You’ve been thinkin about your ‘purpose’ or somethin stupid like that lately?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Nah. Don’t worry about it.” I let the thought fall by the wayside. This lifestyle was all I had grown to know and understand, it made no sense to question it now. Bakugou was right, it was a job, and we kept chaos under control.

Well, I can keep everyone else’s chaos under control.

But what do I do about my own?

I had been dedicated to saving the lives of others for over a decade now. I came very close to losing my life more than thrice. I’ve been on death’s doorstep so often, he probably knows what I like to eat for breakfast and how I like to sleep at night.

I just wondered if I was making any sort of difference sometimes. When I got to thinkin’ too much, a tiny voice would say in the back of my brain, “You’re just a hamster on a wheel”.

The rest of the car ride remained silent, save for the soft rock music that provided background ambience. The city buildings soon turned into expansive land and grassy acres, littered with farm animals every few miles. Dense forestry cloaked the outer parts of the winding roads that led us to Shoto’s home. As my car crunched across the gravel driveway, I spotted him headed towards us on a stunning black horse. He had on a white v neck that had a few smudges of what appeared to be a grease of some sort or maybe oil? He had light denim jeans, with a few smudges down the edges, and wore black boots. I forgot how long his hair had become, as the half white and half red were intertwined in a long braid down his back.

“How’s it going man?” I waved, hopping down out of my Jeep. Shoto rode up next to us and he looked down with a very faint smile.

“How have you been, Eijirou? It’s been quite some time.” Shoto spoke collectedly, his voice soft.

“I’ve been better, but hey, things don’t stay bad for too long right?” I grinned with a tilt of my head.

“I guess it depends on how bad things really are.” Shoto gave a gentle tap with his feet to his horse, which ambled over to the open garage, where he swung his leg off and hopped down, dusting his body briefly before tying his horse up and continuing to talk, “You said you wanted to come talk to me about Midoriya?”

Shoto stood up straight and ran his fingers through the few locks of white that had fallen into his face on the right side. “Has something happened?”

“That’s why we’re here, Icy-Hot. Don’t play stupid, where’s Deku?”

“Ah Bakugou.” Shoto spoke, “I see you haven’t changed much either.”

Bakugou stood up, after having himself propped against the grill of my truck. “He always keeps in contact with you. He’s been gone for five months and nobody’s heard from him.”

“I'm sorry.” Shoto held a rag in his hand from the nearby workstand and began wiping his fingers carefully, “Nobody even informed me. Is he not still in Seoul visiting his father?”

“When did he go there?” I asked curiously.

Shoto gestured for us to follow him indoors and we obliged. As we walked together down the hallway, he continued to explain, “About five months ago was the last time I saw him myself. He was here, in fact. He made plans to stay here overnight because its closer to the airport and he had an early flight.”

We all corralled in the kitchen. Bakugou opted to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. I pulled out a wooden chair and sat down at the table. The kitchen smelled like freshly baked bread, and was rustic, white, and clean. The sunset cast an orange glow through the large windows that were over the sink, and into the room.

“So you’re saying he stopped by here and then left the next day to go to the airport for Seoul?” I repeated, making sure I had the details correct.

“You know if you’re hiding Deku, if he’s up to something, you’re an accomplice and right now, you’re committing criminal obstruction, right?” Bakugou barked, “You may not be a pro-hero anymore, but we still are, and I have no issue turning you over to the police.”

“C’mon Bakugou we didn’t come here for an interrogation, we’re just trying to gather some information, that’s all.” I tried to calm my friend down. As he grew older, his aggressive nature lessened but he never became any less of a short fuse and a hair trigger. “You do remember India, right Shoto?”

He nodded, “Your ex girlfriend? The American, right?”

“Yeah.” I looked down at my folded hands on the table before I sighed, “Well she’s in a pretty sticky situation right now. She is convinced that Deku knows a way to help her. I’m only here to help because if there’s a way we can rescue her, I’ll do it. And if Deku is missing, that could mean something bigger is happening. I’m trying to stop this train before it hits and its too late...again.” I stopped my explanation there.

I knew Shoto understood what I meant. His father was killed by his own brother, many years ago when the league of villains became overwhelmingly powerful. It was a dark period in our history, and caused a lot of changes to take place. One of those changes, was Shoto retiring early and moving out here for a quiet, more simple and isolated life.

We didn’t want to be caught by surprise again. We couldn’t afford to. We didn’t have enough bodies, so many were killed in that war. The newer generation of Heroes were still developing, learning and growing. It just wasn’t good timing right now to let the enemy get the jump on us.

“Have you heard from your brother?” Bakugou asked.

“Which one?”

“I’m not tracking your goddamn family tree Shoto, you know who I mean.” Bakugou snapped. “After Shigaraki was killed, things got real quiet around the city. Now crimes are ramping up again in isolated events; and you wanna know what I think?”

“I’m intrigued, tell me what you think, Bakugou.”

Bakugou stood up from the counter, he seemed to be offended by the relaxed nature of Shoto. That always was something that got under his skin all those years ago. He approached him until they were half a foot apart from each other. I remained on standby in case I needed to intercept.

“I think the league of villains has a new leader now. I think they’re preparing to re-emerge, and I think you’re playing a part in it by being a safehouse for people trying to fly under the radar right now. People like Deku.” He growled. “That’s what I think.”

“Oh?” Shoto appeared amused. “That’s quite a theory.”

---------------------------------------------------

India

The twilight hour had fallen upon the island, basking it in a dreamy, purple-blue glow. Stars were beginning to flicker, faint in the sky above, and the air was warm and humid. My husband, Levi and I were seated at the dinner table, finishing up the meal that we had prepared together, sharing a few laughs and reflecting on happier memories. Levi didn’t drink often, but on special occasions at the house, he would partake in a few glasses of wine. Nothing to impair him, of course; he always knew better.

“I think my favorite memory of you was during our honeymoon. Remember the party at my cousin’s place?” Levi recalled. He stood up and gathered his dishes and went to place them in the sink.

“How could I forget...” I widened my eyes as I took another sip of my wine and passed my plates to the edge of the table. Levi preferred to be the one to keep the household chores done when he was home. He could become highly particular and didn’t trust anyone else to get things as clean as he wanted them to be. I never complained, I hated doing dishes anyhow!

“You were so drunk.” He chuckled as he scrubbed the plate clean, shaking his head, “You bumped right into my older cousins and knocked the Kalua pig right off the tray. You’re so damn clumsy sometimes.”

“Your favorite memory of me, is me ruining the ceremony your family put together to celebrate our union?” I walked over to him at the sink, placing my wine glass in alongside the dishes he was making his way through.

“I found it…endearing.” He shrugged, placing the dishes into a rack. “I really enjoy seeing you be yourself; that’s a reason I married you, your spunk, your ability to have fun and completely let go.” He turned the water off and shook out his hands, grabbing a towel to dry them as he looked at me. “I can almost say it makes me jealous sometimes, India. I don’t know how you do it, sweetheart.”

“I could say the same about you.” I countered, “I mean your strength and intelligence are beyond anyone I’ve ever grown to know. You think before you speak, you never panic, you’re brave, and so fucking resilient.” I smiled as I looked into his eyes, “Here’s to another five years and beyond.”

Levi pressed my body against the counter, hovering close to my lips. My breath caught in my throat as he touched the side of my neck, edging his hand behind my neck and up to the back of my scalp. He refused to press his lips against mine, instead, choosing to study my expressions as he gripped a handful of my hair and tilted my head backwards.

A breathy exhale escaped my lips as he devoured the exposed flesh of my neck. He released his grip on my hair and placed his hands on both sides of the edge of the counter I was pressed against. His hips ground against my own, his thick hardness causing my chest to arch into his body, just to feel him flush against my body.

He pulled back all at once, leaving me breathless, my clothes haphazardly out of place. I watched as he knotted his brow in that way he often did, beginning to unbutton his white shirt as he walked towards the bedroom wordlessly. He knew, he understood his actions would lead me to follow behind him, like a lap dog, because I craved him in those intimate ways.

As soon as I entered our bedroom, he closed the door behind me and finished unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it aside. “Lie down.” He instructed. I disrobed myself immediately, and laid on the bed, as he climbed atop me from the bottom of the bed.

Levi took his time in surveying my breasts and body before pushing himself onto his knees. Before I could determine his next move, he hoisted my legs up over his shoulders and I felt his hot breath against my folds.

He rested his nose between them, inhaling before he let out a soft expletive and gripped my thighs, sliding his tongue between them and up to my precious clit. My head fell back in ecstasy. The way he teased me by tracing circles around my swollen clit caused me to gasp out in pleasure. Cross eyed and vision unfocused, I tilted my head back up, embracing the moonlight bathing me from the window, and as my eyes came into focus I froze in horror.

As Levi continued probing me with his soft, warm tongue, my chest rose and fell in a combination of panic and thrill. I was staring at Izuku, outside, standing against a large, thick palm tree out back.

He held a single, gloved finger to his lips, silently instructing me to keep quiet as he remained in the shadows.

He wasn’t supposed to be watching this happen.

He told me he would be positioned around the side of my home.

Why was he here now? Where he could be easily spotted if Levi would’ve merely glanced over his shoulder?

My hips bucked up quite suddenly; as I was overcome by a staggering mix of emotions. I was high off of adrenaline from even participating in this upcoming assassination of my own husband, this then led to my guilt over my decision.

I also felt incredibly turned on by the fact that Zu was outside, watching me in all of my lewd glory, completely exposed. while I was being consumed with pleasure.

I couldn’t hold back the moans that tumbled from my lips. I never broke eye contact with Zu, feeling Levi’s fingers curl inside of me as he continued tracing my clit. He knew all the perfect places to touch me to bring whatever he wanted forth. He was slow at first, carrying me to the edge at a torturous pace that he took pleasure in cultivating.

“L-Levi” I breathed, my muscles in my abdomen clenching at my impending orgasm.

His pace quickened, his free hand slapping the flesh of my thigh, a resounding ‘smack’ echoing throughout the room. Through heavy lids, I began to pant. Zu remained partially cloaked by the tree, arms crossed, with an insidious smirk, as if he were watching a simple fucking tv show.

I could see him mouth the words that sent me over the edge.

“Cum for me.”

I collapsed back into the bed, my body locking, and the muscles of my cervix spasming in wild contractions as Levi continued working me over the edge, despite the fact that I was now gasping for air and crying out in intense pleasure. When he determined that I had been given enough, he slowly stood up, allowing my legs to gently fall on each side of him. He was now effectively blocking the window, but my awareness returned to me rapidly.

Levi pulled down his underwear, releasing his thick cock from the confines of his briefs. He pressed his left hand into the mattress by my head, and used his other hand to guide himself into me. He slid in effortlessly and began with long, slow strokes that sent electric jolts throughout my nervous system as I felt my sensitive walls clench around him each time he would glide past them and deeper inside of me, stimulating each individual receptor.

“Shit.” He whispered aloud, dropping his head into the crook of my neck as he maintained his strokes inside of me.

My heart began to race. I hoped he couldn’t feel it, because I could swear it was about to break through my rib cage.

This was it.

This was my only chance!

I slowly drifted my hand up underneath the pillow, gripping the sheets to make it seem as though I were lost in the throes of pleasure. I felt the cap of the syringe, and felt my palms getting clammy as I rotated it in my hand underneath the pillow and used my thumb to pop the cap off.

Without delay, I jerked my arm from underneath the pillow.

My heart almost gave out from the release of epinephrine, but the color in my face drained the moment I realized my wrist was tightly being held, syringe and all, in the hand of my husband and assassination target.

Immediately, he threw my arm down violently, causing the syringe to scatter far across the floor. Before I could speak, or plead, or anything of the sort, he flipped me over onto my stomach and held both of my arms behind my back, his knee pressing on my lower back with immense pressure.

“You filthy fucking slut!” He spat angrily. “What was in the needle?” He demanded through his teeth. I didn’t answer fast enough, trying to think of a lie, and he twisted my wrists, causing me to cry out in pain.

Suddenly I could barely make out over my shoulder, that he was quickly surveying the room. “Who else is with you?” He questioned.

Again, my answer was not quick enough, and he pressed his knee harder into my tailbone and leant down to my ear. I felt his quick breathing pattern as he went into survival mode. “You’re not fucking smart enough to come up with this kind of plan. You don’t have it in you to kill someone. Who. Else. Is. Here. India.” He paused with an emphasis between every word, sending absolute terror to my very core.

“Nobody!” I wept.

He released me and I realized he was heading for his weapons that were stored across the room in the closet.

A blinding blaze of bright green that erupted within the room and made me jump back and grasp the sheets to my chest, shielding my eyes.

I then watched as Zu’s glowing arm held my husband up, by the throat, against the wall, his feet inches above the ground.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Zu grimaced.

“Wait, Izuku, wait, please-” I never ever used his real name unless I was serious. I was absolutely petrified.

“The gear India.” He held his free hand behind him, palm outstretched, as he never took his eyes off of Levi.

Levi simply held Zu’s fist that was clenched around his neck, with a scowl on his face as he began to surrender to the loxygen he was losing.

He did not plead for mercy.

He was not quivering in fear.

He never took his eyes off of me; and I was overwhelmed with regret that clouded my logic reasoning. If I knew Levi, he was likely calculating a way to get out of this alive, and our timeframe was becoming more and more limited by the millisecond.

“India! Focus! Give me his things, now!” Zu bellowed, his hair standing up on end as if he was brimming with electricity, static shocks of green bouncing off of his entire body. I scrambled off of the bed, nearly tripping over the white sheets that entangled my body as I flung open the closet doors and hastily yanked the blades and the holster boxes containing the spare blades down. Once I placed them in Zu’s hands he crushed them in his fist, shattering them into pieces that fell, broken, upon the floor.

As I backed away and my eyes met my husband’s again, his lids narrowed at me. “I changed my mind Izuku.” I began stammering. “We can’t do this. You can’t do this, please. This will change everything, please just fucking listen to me--”

“The world’s a shitty place to be, isn’t it India?” Levi choked with a smile.

“Damn it, India!” He threw Levi across the room and with a resounding ‘crack’ his head collided with the wall and he slid down, unconscious, a trail of blood left on the wall as a result. “Get dressed and go meet Hawks, now.” He breathed at me before emerging on Levi and kneeling down to him. I opened and closed my mouth several times, unable to form coherent words. Tears were cascading down my face, snot was blocking my nose, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“We’re running out of time! Go!” He demanded.

I choked on my tears, coughing as a result and stumbling into my sweatpants and hoodie as I left the bedroom and gathered my prepared backpack. I slipped into my shoes and managed to clamber out of the door and down the stairs of the porch.

Zu tried his best to prepare me for this, but I know I fucked everything up.

As I looked over my shoulder, I witnessed a dark haired man in a long black coat standing against the side of the house I couldn’t see him, I could barely notice him, but he looked covered in burns. He watched me run past with what almost looked like a smile...his hands in his pockets. I nearly tripped over driftwood, so I returned my attention forward, my throat painfully tight as I ran the fastest I could up towards the summit.

As I was about to enter the treeline of the forest leading to the edge of the island, I heard a deafening blast and whipped around to watch, in horror, as that familiar green light seemed to annihilate the home of my husband and I. As I saw charcoal smoke emerging from the destruction, the shambles left of the house went up in bright, blue flames.

I staggered backwards and turned around.

I didn’t have time to stay and feel sorry for myself.

After a few more minutes of expending the last of my energy and adrenaline kick, I fell onto the ground at the other edge of the treeline, a few feet away from the summit. A rustle of tree leaves nearby startled me as I backed myself up on the ground, trying to get to my feet as rapidly as I could manage--

---------------------------------------------------

Keigo “Hawks/Kami” Takami

“Hey, hey, hey, India.” I landed on the ground next to the trembling mess of woman that seemed unable to break free from her panic. I gripped her harder, pulling her into my chest and unraveling my wingspan to surround us both in a cocoon, which seemed to help her drop a half step back into reality.

“It’s me baby bird, I’ve got you, you’re alright.” I breathed into the top of her head. The original plan was for her to casually meet me right here, so I could fly her back to the mainland. Now, as I really took her all in; her clothes were ripped in places with stains from the wet soil and grass. Her hair was in a disarray, she seemed as though it was difficult for her to try to catch her breath.

“What happened to you?” I asked after she collected herself. Very carefully, I allowed my wings to drop down to the side, permitting the moonlight to illuminate us both as I knelt on the ground in front of her.

“It didn’t work, Kami!” Her chest began racking with sobs.

Damn it, she was getting me worked up.

Usually I can maintain my cool but I was starting to feel my heart rate climb as she struggled to speak, “L-Levi he…I fucked up! I fucked up so bad! I don’t k-know h-how it–” She took a deep breath, rubbing her temples as she puffed her cheeks out with an exhale.

“God my fucking head hurts so much.” She groaned, her eyes closing shut tightly.

“Shit.” I lunged forward at the exact moment I realized that she had exhausted the limits of her sympathetic nervous system and caught her wavering body in my arms before she could hit the ground as she lost consciousness. I hoisted her up in my arms and with a grand sweep of my wings, I ascended high above the treeline and narrowed my eyes to focus on the house that was engulfed in blue flames. I saw the flashing lights of emergency vehicles surrounding the area, and people starting to flank the outside of the crime scene in awe.

A human figure sprung forth from the trees below and I immediately recognized Izuku Midoriya, out of breath, hands on his knees as he panted. I slowly descended to the ground, eyeing him with contempt. He stood up, and eyed India, who remained unconscious within my arms.

“You want to explain to me what the fuck happened back there? She barely recognized me, she’s a mess!” I spat, stepping forward, my voice unintentionally rising, the wings at my sides raising in outrage.

Izuku took a step back in return, fists ready on both sides as he glared back at me.

“I don’t want any problems with you, Hawks. There was an oversight and I took care of it. He’s gone. It’s done. You guys gotta get off this island and quick, people are already looking for her, trying to see if she’s still inside.” He spoke rapidly.

“An oversight?!” I stopped myself from allowing my anger to elevate; and instead, inhaled sharply before sprouting myself off of the ground without another word.

The priority now, was getting her back to my apartment like we had agreed, and trying to get her medical attention so she could recover. I cursed myself for my own shortcomings in allowing myself to place even a fragment of trust in Izuku for a plan like this. I never agreed with it to begin with, and I had vehemently refused to get involved in a blatantly pre-meditated murder, whether Levi deserved it or not.

Which he ultimately did.

I digress.

I flew around with a conflicted feeling; I cherished India intensely and completely. I looked down at her and pulled the strings of her hoodie just slightly, to cover her neck a bit more from the rapid cold air I was carrying her through.

God India, you’re so headstrong, you’re so goddamn impatient. Look what you’ve done now.

If she would’ve given me a little more time I could’ve figured out a way to return her to safety without the concern of her life being in danger. My reasoning for allowing her to even move forward with everything that transpired tonight, was that I knew my arguments would fall on rebellious ears.

India did what she wanted, how she wanted, and when she wanted. Levi was draining that independent spirit in her with each passing day, and I could see it happening before my very eyes every time I would fly across the sea to spend an hour or two with her on the island summit. I knew she didn’t want to be a victim anymore, she wanted to take charge back over her life and no matter how much I would plead, threaten or warn, she was going to do it anyway and likely lie to me about it.

I’d rather know the truth and be here to keep her as safe as I possibly could in the meantime.

God, at least this was finally all over.

---------------------------------------------------

Eijirou “Eij” Kirishima

I sat back in my seat, one hand on the steering wheel as I drove down the highway, running over things in my brain. The music was on, and the cool night air felt great on my face as my hair blew out of the window and around my head freely.

“Kiri…” Bakugou reached forward and turned down the radio, I heard an unease in his voice, “India, what’s her husband’s name again?”

I glanced over at him briefly and saw he was scrolling on his phone, eyes scanning side to side as he read something line by line very quickly.

I returned my eyes back to the road, “Levi?” I said, looking back at him and then to the road again, trying to figure out what was going on. “Levi Ackermann. What about him?” I asked, looking over at him and back at the road again, “Bakugou?”

“Shut up damn it I’m trying to-” He barked, before his eyes widened. His hand gripped the phone tighter and he finally clicked the screen off before throwing it to the floor in agitation.

“It’s Dabi.” He mumbled, staring out the window, “The news, it said a home was completely destroyed with an explosion and arson about an hour ago. An ‘assassination attempt’ on the commander of their army and his wife’s residence. Levi & India Ackerman.” His fist curled on his lap as he continued, “The flames are blue in the photos, Kiri.”

“House fires aren’t blue….they can’t get that...hot...” I started to piece together his words. My eyes began to widen as I realized the depth of this situation. “Holy shit–”

“Goddamn it Icy-Hot!” Bakugou’s palms began sparking as he gritted his teeth, “I knew he was hiding something!”

I felt heat rising in my chest, “Is India alive? Did they find any bodies?”

“It didn’t say…” He grumbled, bending over to pick up his phone and turning it over in his hand to check if he had cracked it.

I felt my palms growing sweaty, “Bakugou, I-I gotta know if she’s alive…” I trailed off nervously, attempting desperately to pour together the relativity between Dabi and India in the first place.

“Just get us back to the agency, we’ll figure it all out from there.” Bakugou growled determinedly, “And I don’t think its a coincidence that Deku’s gone missing either. I’m calling Shoto.”

“Should I turn around?”

“No. Going back isn’t going to get us any more information right now.” He pressed the phone to his ear.

“Keep an eye on the news for me, will ya?” I asked.

“Of course I will. Don’t tell me what to do. ”

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 4 years

Text

Seen ✓ - 2

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: light anxiety Word Count: 2.2k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N: Chapter 2! Our pals are kicking it off already. Can you smell the chemistry? The rOMANCE? LESSGO

Pictures used in this chapter were found on google images :)

Beta: no one.

Catch up! : Part 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2: overthinker.

From: y/n_andrews85 To: D_impala67 Subject: I have your phone. That sounds creepy. I don’t think there’s a non-creepy way of writing this. Whatever.

Dear Dean, is it?

I just wanted to let you know I found your phone at the bus stop the other night. I wasn’t planning on holding on to it, really, but I got worried that you may have been in trouble, and then you never really looked for it either so, I don’t know, I figured better than someone who’ll snatch it and leave, you know?

Anyways, that’s why I’m emailing. I snooped through it a little, sorry, hopefully you’ll understand it was kinda necessary? Maybe we can arrange something so I can get it back to you. This girl, Jamie, keeps sending me (well you technically) topless photos of her. It’s not really what lights my candle. I’m assuming you’d like it back too.

I hope you’re safe. Looking forward to hearing back from you!

Y/n Andrews

Do you believe me now?

oh god

you didn’t

Sure did

wow. just wow.

you just handed his ass back to him holy shit!

last time he called, he said he dropped his phone while walking back to his motel, so

he’s okay.

That’s good, I’m glad he’s safe.

I was planning on including something along the lines of “This would’ve been easier if you were an active member of the 21st century and used social media”

But I figured the Jamie thing was motive enough?

yeah. topless Jamie? that’s something else.

Don’t be getting any ideas, dude, I don’t do nudes lmao.

oh god, no i didn’t think that

you did not just type lmao though. how old are you again?

oh god, you’re not 14 or something right? i don’t know what that would make me.

Don’t worry about it, I turned 16 last week.

…

are you serious?

Lmao, no, I’m kidding. I’m twenty-two.

But I think the word you’re looking for is a creep. Oh, and an ageist.

ouch.

Haha, I’m joking.

Lighten up, what are you, ninety?

hi pot meet kettle.

Shit I walked right into that one.

also i’d like to think i don’t text like a ninety-year-old man. could be wrong though

to answer your question i’m twenty-four.

Twenty-four huh? I assume you’re done with college, no?

Or- wait, I guess not everyone goes to college.

Yes, this is me fishing for information.

well… i kinda dropped out.

decided to go on a road trip with my brother.

things went a little south I ended up continuing the family business.

Damn, college drop-out ey? Where from?

Also, Family business? What do you do?

Is this too interview-y? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to snoop.

you’re good.

stanford. pre-law.

and my brother and i are private investigators. that’s why he’s not in Kansas with me. he’s working a case.

Daaaaamn. Stanford AND a lawyer? And now working as a PI? You’re pretty smart, then.

an ageist and a generalist? i didn’t take you for such y/n.

Fuck, okay, you sound like a lawyer too.

hahahah

so what about you?

What about me?

are you in college?

Oh yeah! Film school. My dream has always been to be a director. It’s rare to find someone who loves movies more than I do.

that’s really cool.

hey i’ve been meaning to ask.

Thinking of me, Sam?

…

Do tell.

how come you were walking home through a park in the middle of the night the other day?

Ooh, I was coming back from work.

I’m a bartender and I had a late shift on Friday.

oh I see. That makes sense yeah.

I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, but I’m legitimately three seconds away from falling asleep. I’m gonna hit the hay.

See you later, Sam :)

See you, y/n :)

A smile creeps on Y/n’s features at the thought of more conversations with Sam. He has given her something to look forward to, something to make her a little more excited during her boring every-day life. As she tucks herself in under her covers, eyelids heavy enough to droop involuntarily, the last thing she thinks of is him, the clever, sassy, twenty-four year old college dropout on the other side of the cracked phone screen. The overwhelming urge to get to know him overtakes her as she succumbs to sleep

Do you believe in ghosts?

that’s… random.

May be

why do you ask?

Idk, just wanna get to know you better.

that’s what you ask people you want to get to know better?

Yes?

Are you avoiding the question?

i do. believe in ghosts.

You?

So do i.

Well, sorta. I guess I believe in souls more than anything.

hm?

Well… I guess I hope (more than believe) that we are more than our corporeal selves.

In the sense that, it’s comforting to me that when we die, and our bodies stop working, we don’t evaporate.

I guess.

yeah I understand.

i don’t know. i guess i wanna believe in science more than anything but i know better.

How do you mean?

call it a hunch.

Oh c’mon, it’s gotta be more than that.

Sam…?

Y/n huffs out a breath, gnawing at her lip. She hopes her anxiety isn’t right, that Sam isn’t sick of her silly questions and existential dread, and is actually doing something. Perhaps his battery ran out.

...Sure.

She was doing something too, before she decided to text him. Eyes falling on all her books and notes, spread around her like ugly, depressing, anxiety-inducing flower petals. There’s a blanket over her legs, chilly fall weather seeping through her bones, and there’s a half empty pizza box in front of her. She’s full and the left overs are kept for her sister, Emily, who’s currently locked up in her room.

Damn it. Y/n is stressed and tired, and now her distraction is refusing to reply. This sucks. She hates the crawling, awful, gooey feeling of cold anxiety gripping every beat of her heart and stupidly convincing her he’s purposefully ghosting her, because he doesn’t like her.

Not knowing what to occupy herself with, she heads to take a shower. In the back of her head, she knows that she’ll probably not study any longer, so she takes it upon herself to sink under the hot water and wash thoroughly, trying to get her mind off Dean’s phone. When her feet step out of the shower and she has towel-dried herself as best as she can, she tosses her wet hair in a haphazard bun, and gets dressed.

Books stack under the rickety, stained coffee table, and she grabs her sketchbook, her favorite pencil, as well as her and Dean’s phone. She shoots Connor a text, arranging a hang out of some kind, and opens her little booklet, when a text vibrates Dean’s phone.

hey i’m sorry i got caught up in something.

It’s alright.

She doesn’t press the ghost subject, because he doesn’t seem into it and she really doesn’t wanna make him dislike her any more than he possibly already does.

The empty page of her sketchbook daunts her. With a tight grip on her mechanical pencil, she urges her creativity pumps to use some gasoline, but they seem limp and dead, and once more unwilling to help her. As her eyes fall on Dean’s phone, like a light bulb out of a cartoon, she gets an idea.

Hey, this might sound creepy, but what do you look like?

She stares at the phone. This feels like a risky question. God, if he wasn’t done with her before, he certainly must be now. But then, he surprises her.

why do you wanna know?

I’m in the mood to sketch some, and my creativity has officially left the building.

Care to help a girl out? Maybe your literary descriptions will spark something in me lmao.

i didn’t know you sketched.

Yeah, sometimes. Nothing great though, I promise. I’m certainly no Picasso.

i mean you don’t have to be picasso to sketch well. and you don’t have to sketch well to sketch at all.

Yeah, may be.

I don’t wanna pressure you into anything, you really don’t have to humor me.

If you do feel like it though, don’t send me a picture. Kinda wanna spark some life into my brain cells.

haha i will. only if you show me the finished product tho.

You’ve got yourself a deal :)

She simply cannot believe he has just agreed to this. Her breath is caught in her throat.

so.

what do you want me to start with?

Just whatever. Idk, tell me about your face.

well

i have brown curly-ish hair that reaches my ears. uh, my eyes are hazel.

Okay, that’s a start.

What’s your nose like?

it’s a bit pointy. thin i think?

Jawline?

sharp? i guess?

this is by far the weirdest thing i’ve done.

Lmao, yeah, this is pretty weird.

Exciting though.

She shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, that is definitely overeager.

yeah it is.

Her stomach feels floaty at his response.

Eyebrows?

normal?

How do you classify “normal” eyebrows, exactly?

i don’t know? they’re simple i guess.

Are you implying complicated eyebrows exist out there?

…

Elaborate, Sam. Are you shy? Do you not have eyebrows? Are they bushy? Or too thin? Or pointy?

i’m telling you they’re average.

Sam

what

You officially suck at this.

oh fuck off how would you describe yours?

Y/n proceeds to write a cohesive sentence that includes adjectives apart from “normal” and “average”. Words like bushy, thin, arched and curvy.

well shit yeah i guess i do suck at this.

i think it’s not a skill i mind not having.

That… is a confusing sentence.

just… draw them however. what difference can eyebrows make?

Oh you have no idea.

Okay, last thing.

Do you have a fringe?

yeah but not for long. i’ll probably let it grow out.

Okay, I can do something with that. Thanks :)

no problem

Her creativity is finally servicing her according to her commands, and Y/n puts pen to paper and scribbles messily. Line after line, they curl and sit on the page, forming a smile with thin lips, a sharp jaw, a pointy nose. She has to guess the eyebrows a bit, and the eyes are more cartoonish and generic than she likes. In the end, she gets anxious at the prospect of having to show him, and gives him a hood, so she won’t fuck up the hair.

Okay, I’m done.

that was quick, actually.

Well I didn’t have much to go on.

Sam doesn’t reply. She worries he might have misinterpreted her teasing tone.

Gimme a sec, I’ll send it over.

Ugh, Dean’s camera is such shit. Do you mind if I send it from my phone?

no go ahead.

[Y/n has sent a picture]

As you said, it didn’t take long. It’s really not the best.

that…

is actually not too far from the truth

it kind of looks like me from two years ago

wow, really?

yeah.

and it’s honestly a pretty good sketch. good job.

Thank you :)

Sam doesn’t say anything after this, and she huffs. Her head falls back on the couch, and she stares at the ceiling. She should go to bed soon, it’s getting late.

isn’t this strange?

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit oh shit, she thinks. He’s regretting this. He doesn’t like her. He’ll stop talking to her and that’ll be it.

Why does she care so much? It’s a thought that passes through her mind. It hasn’t been long since they started talking and, after the near-kidnapping encounter, they’ve been having nearly daily conversations, but that still doesn’t mean much. She knows barely anything about him.

She guesses, she wants to get to know him better. He seems like the type of guy she’d enjoy hanging out with and she has so far. Stopping any kind of conversation would surely feel like a loss. She’d have to go back to her boring routine. This is the most exciting thing she has allowed herself to do in years.

A part of her feels rather lame for finding such a thrill at something so trivial. She’s talking to a stranger, and that’s all it is, but the prospect that he could be anyone at all, and she’s never even seen his face… well… It feels refreshing, new. Scary in an adrenaline-rush kind of way.

What is?

us. texting.

isn’t it a little odd?

I guess it is a bit.

I mean we’ve only known each other for, what, a week? And a half?

yeah.

should we stop?

I don’t know

Do you want to?

The extra moment his reply takes to arrive makes her want to vomit.

Then there’s your answer.

okay then

can I save you in my contacts?

Sure, go ahead.

I just did too.

alright.

Okay :)

I’m sorry, I have to go.

I guess I’ll text you later, Sam.

Go be whoever Sam Something is.

it’s winchester.

Like the shotgun?

yup.

That’s BADASS. Can you even get more badass than this? Pre-law, now a PI, and you’re named after a shotgun? Damn dude.

Well, it’s nice to meet you Sam. I’m Y/n Andrews.

Haha thanks.

nice to meet you, too

goodnight Y/n Andrews.

Night Sam Winchester :)

--- Part 3

A/N: Thoughts? How are you liking the newer version of this? right after I post it, I’m gonna delete the other one.

Taglist:

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove @sammysgirl1997 @kymberlytorres @bambi95-blog @demonic-meatball @thekarliwinchester @littlekay15 @li-m-ii @thinspo-isuppose @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker @marichromatic @illuminatus42 @lazy-author @mirandaaustin93 @hauntedsiriel @pilaxia @devilgirlsarah @nobodys-baby-now @captiveties @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain

#sam x reader #sam x fem!reader #sam x reader series #sam x reader fluff #sam x reader angst #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #sam winchester x reader series #sam winchestr fluff #sam fluff #spn #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #seen 2 #seen

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dawniebb · 3 years

Text

The Ones Left

So...as you might know, @healing-winston-pratt and I have this canon divergence where Winston and Callum live, but Genissa doesn’t (because we hate her), and Nova then starts living with Leroy and Winston in a house. A couple of days ago, I wrote a thing about it. It takes place after Leroy is released from prison and...yeah, there’s nothing more to it, my brain was just like “Bro, don’t you sometimes feel like...Leroy has f e e l i n g s?”

Idk if anyone’s going to read this lmao, but if somebody does: Hi! <3 I hope you like it <3 <3 <3

“Could you… take your shoes off? I just… mopped around here because the floor was so dirty. Of course, if you don’t want to there’s no need to… I kind of… made the place a little cozier for you to be comfortable so… “

This wasn’t his Winston, although Leroy had no idea why he thought he would be.

Winston hadn’t been his Winston even before all of this happened. When he saw him at the arena, he was already a different person.

He was… normal.

Healthy.

Sane.

He hadn’t mentioned a thing about it on their way home, but he didn’t have his makeup anymore. Again. Which meant the small dose of Agent N had worked.

Thank the odds.

“Leroy? “

His voice brought him back to reality, and Leroy shook his head, taking his shoes off and paying little attention to Winston’s little “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, like I said”.

But, despite his body language shoving the opposite, he did want to.

It seemed important.

Nova and Winston weren’t the cleanest people Leroy had met, but the place was neat. They had made it neat, because they knew Leroy would be released from prison today.

“Nova is… covering her shift. They called in for a last minute, emergency meeting and she got really mad but… she’ll try to be here earlier. It’s not like Adrian will stop her, you know? “

He knew. He just didn’t feel like speaking.

For being a house provided by the government, it was very nice.

Some questionable wallpapers here and there, but it was extremely nice, and big enough for all of them to live there.

Putting his hands on his pockets, Leroy started walking, barely getting close to the stairs, while Winston walked behind him, and just…staring.

“Uhm…The bedrooms are upstairs, and we already got yours sorted out, but you can change anything you don’t like… Also I have one shelf that I don’t use in mine, so you can have it if you like. I mean, I know you always have your… experiments around so… yeah. You may have it. If you want to.”

At this point, Leroy was already in the kitchen, where there was a pot with boiling water; there was also a salad, halfway finished, by the space next to the stove.

Winston, who seemed strangely nervous, took the pot out of the stove and then turned it off.

“This was Nova’s.” he cleared his throat. “It’s not Pasta Friday, but it’s… I guess… Leroy Wednesday, I don’t know. “

“Pasta Friday.”

“You see, we’re both busy sometimes. So we usually don’t cook… I mean, we do cook but sometimes it’s easier to just order pizza. So we decided to always cook on Fridays. She makes the pasta and I’m in charge of the dessert, which is usually mug brownies or cookies but anyway…”

Leroy felt something, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on what that something was.

He had never been apart from Nova for so long, if we didn’t count that time when Tala and David left the cathedral.

After that, somehow, she had always been there, and although she did have a close relationship with Winston for some time, she never acknowledged they were that close, and neither did him (But, back then, nobody ever knew what Winston was really thinking about anyway. Not even himself).

Nova had always been pretty secretive and quiet, mostly because they had raised her that way. Yet, it was usually clear which wagons she enjoyed the most.

Needless to say, she spent a lot of time in Leroy’s. She used to spend a lot of time in Winston’s too, when she was little.

But right now, they had been living together, just the two of them, for a year, while Leroy was in prison and, for what he could see, they had taken on their relationship where they had left it that many years ago, and that seemed to be working well for them, with their Pasta Friday… thing and their bad habit to spend too much money on pizza. Though, Leroy supposed, he wasn’t in the position to judge that. At least, not yet.

“Like I said, the bedrooms are upstairs and we have a bathroom at the back of this floor. The upper one, however, it’s smaller but it’s only Nova’s.”

“Nova has a bathroom.”

“She does.” For some reason, Winston seemed pretty excited about that, as he took out a dish casserole from the fridge and started putting it on the stove. “It was a sort of pantry, I guess… or just a random extra room, so I suggested we should turn it into a bathroom for her. She’s never have privacy in her life, you know? I figured she has the right to.”

Once again, he was right.

Back in the tunnels, everyone tried to respect each other’s space, but that didn’t mean they had some sort of privacy. The reason why that seemed to bug Winston so much had always been a mystery to Leroy, but now a lot of things made sense.

Not that he were willing to talk about it yet. It still felt like crossing a line. Maybe Winston and him were not that close.

Maybe he was just pretending to like him because Nova liked him. And maybe Nova was pretending to like him just because he had tried his best to be like the father who had been torn from her.

But sometimes one’s trying was not enough, and Nova didn’t owe him anything at all. Not that Leroy considered.

Even if she did, he wouldn’t have wanted her to pay him back anyway.

Having such a nosey lab partner, who wanted to know everything about anything had been fun.

Before her, nobody ever wanted to know.

Well…

Except Honey, when she was still in her 20s, which reminded him of something.

“Where’s…?”

And, fortunately, Leroy managed to stop himself in the middle of his sentence, coming to the realization.

Winston didn’t get the message immediately, which Leroy understood, because they were talking about the house. A question starting with “Where’s” could’ve basically meant anything.

“Where’s what, Leroy?”

Where’s what.

What.

Leroy remembered how those people would address her.

She was a Godforsaken woman after all, whose family didn’t want to have anything to do with her. And, back then, Nova was a minor.

A very angry and brokenhearted minor.

After 30 years of coming home to a place she was in, Leroy felt it was the right thing to do. Even as Hugh Everhart drove him there, Leroy still felt he was doing the right thing, like… the whatever thing he was. Like a friend. Like that…wide, yet dull everything that was left in the end.

She had laid in that morgue for a couple of days, and those men…even the women, called her Jane Doe, despite knowing who she was, and addressed her as an It, because she was a monster and monsters were not people; monsters were things.

Leroy remembered how those people would look at her, so full of resentment and, at the same time, mockery.

He remembered how carelessly they had handled the blanket covering her body, because she didn’t matter.

And he remembered Hugh Everhart asking them to show some respect, as he covered her again and apologized to him.

He remembered how those people stared at him, processing there was someone here, reclaiming this loveless woman, who had a heartbeat for many years, even after she became heartless.

Leroy remembered how they would treat her, as if she were the coldest and most hideous being to have ever existed; as if she were even more ruthless than Ace Anarchy himself, and he remembered saying:

“Yes, that’s her.”

And he remembered Hugh Everhart taking over the issue with his own hands, saying, in a voice that didn’t sound like his’:

“We know, mister Flinn. But we still need you to sign.”

And he remembered signing.

What he didn’t remember, however, was forgetting all of that.

“Nothing… just…”

Winston had small hands, but when he patted his shoulder, it felt like he was being patted by Captain Chromium.

He had understood, and it was embarrassing.

“If you’re not hungry… I can take you to your room so you can get some rest… And… when you’re ready to talk about it, we’ll try to be ready too. Okay dokay? Just so you know… we understand it’s tough and that… adapting to this will be tough. But take all the time you need.”

Take all the time you need was such a hopeless phrase that Leroy couldn’t find the words to describe how much he despised it, but hearing it was better than listening to his brain.

Then, sleeping was better than any of those things, because Leroy didn’t even like the room.

Something was leaking, and his pillow was getting wet.

He wished somebody could fix that.

-.-

There was barely any sun left when the shadow Leroy recognized as Nova came into the room; with a groan, she laid on her stomach, next to him.

Her Renegade uniform looked the tiniest bit loose on her, but she didn’t smell like humidity anymore.

She smelled like this house, and even as Leroy stared at her through the nightstand light, he was able to almost see her blue eyes, despite them being closed.

He just saw her there, with her eyes closed but not asleep, tired as she looked.

One year.

Yet, all Leroy managed to do was stroke her hair awkwardly, which caught her attention, but didn’t make her pull away.

Her eyes had a spark in them. One that was foreign to Leroy.

After all this time, she was finally safe. And she knew it.

And she was so used to it, that she just rubbed her eyes, before closing them again.

“You’re not going anywhere this time, are you?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

Leroy wondered why would he leave.

“I’m staying right here.”

“Good.”

Then, she fell asleep for many, many hours.

And at least she didn’t go anywhere. Neither did him.

Nobody in that house went anywhere.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #leroy flinn #cyanide #winston pratt #nova artino #nightmare #insomnia #honey harper #queen bee #seeing winston happy always makes me happy too

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bard-llama · 3 years

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WiP List

This is gonna be looooong (like, REALLY long), so I’mma go ahead and give you a cut here. But if you’re interested in what i’m working on, take a look!

Order purely based on the order my tabs are in. I’m only counting WiPs that actually have more than a paragraph written, because if I didn’t, this list would be even longer. Also, pls don’t judge me but what I name my WiPs 😂

Post-Coital Smoke

Kinda what it sounds like tbh. I just wanted Iorveth getting high and admiring Roche’s body and then Roche decided to be a tease. At some point, I assume there will be sex.

Angst: Sex object Roche

Iorveth’s POV of realizing that Roche hurts himself whenever he flirts at Iorveth. Premise is that Roche has been groomed (intentionally or not) by Foltest to be his. So when he feels attraction towards Iorveth, he needs to be punished. And obviously Iorveth helps him learn that no, that’s not okay and idk recovery???

Midwinter Feast

This idea was 100% spawned by me trying to write holiday fics, but Foltest hosts a Midwinter Feast where they close the city for 12 days, leaving Roche to get along with the Nonhuman/Scoia’tael(ish) delegation during that time. Also, Foltest might be using the feast as a delaying tactic to resupply his army. I legit have no idea where this is going, I just thought the idea of Roche and Iorveth stuck at a feast for 12 days was funny.

Solstice Feast aka To Birth a Verdant Future

This was actually an xmas gift for @lutes-and-dandelions, but I havent finished it yet 😓 But the premise is similar to the former in that it’s another solstice feast. But it’s set post-W3 with Emhyr as Emperor throwing a party in the new conquered capital of Vizima. Roche broods a lot about Foltest’s memory and how he hates Emhyr and decides to distract himself by hanging out with Iorveth and suggesting they follow an old elven tradition. And that’s all I’ll say. XD

Next Year (Solstice Feast sequel)

Literally set the next year. This time they merge their lives by merging their people’s traditions.

Lily Preserved in Amber

Okay, haven’t gotten very far in this, but I decided it was an elven rite of passage to go searching through the forest for a sign of your future. And Iorveth finds a piece of amber with a lily preserved inside. I haven’t decided if it purely means Roche or if it means his whole family with Roche and Boussy and Anais and all. So far, he hasn’t even found the amber yet lmao. But he did just discover music!

Character taking control of the other and Character B just letting go and enjoying themselves

Under the subheading “Porn Snips”, so uh, yeah. Starts with Roche and Iorveth fighting to decide who gets to top, involves Roche getting choked, and Iorveth ripping Roche’s pants off. Oh, also, they’re currently at a fancy party hiding somewhere in the garden lmao

Based on @moonlights-ordinance‘s art

Moonlight’s working on an adorable piece where Roche leans his forehead against Iorveth’s back between his shoulderblades. I decided to make it post-W3 with both of them working as paper pushers/administrators under Emhyr’s Temeria. And Nilfgaard does not believe in chairs with backs (or, really, Emhyr wanted to see how long Roche’s pride would make him suffer. It’s a long time). The idea is to show development over time as they slowly get more comfortable with touch and start using each other as backrests. And then the sweet scene Moonlight is drawing.

Eliza for @useless-empty-brain aka Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?

Next is Iorveth’s POV, but I legit cannot figure out where to start. But we’re gonna see some of his thoughts (like how Eliza volunteered him to stay in Vizima for an unspecified period of time and he said yes even though he can’t and now has to commute regularly because he doesn’t want to miss tea with Roche but also doesn’t want Roche’s spies to catch on lmao) and his curiosity about Roche and Foltest and what Roche’s mission is (which I... totally know.)

Roche’s Scars

@moonlights-ordinance sent me a great pic of a mod for Roche where he had some pretty vicious scarring/mutilation. So of course I decided I needed to tell the story of each one. But really, it’s a story about the stages of acceptance with scars. Both Iorveth and Roche start out hiding theirs, but eventually come to reveal them comfortably in public.

Vernon Roche of the Scoia’tael aka The Value of a Man

Does my title give it away? Oops? So, this is a found family fic where Roche is captured by the Scoia’tael and the elves and dwarves slowly come to see him as - well, I was gonna say human, but as a person, I guess. And start feeling really, really guilty, especially when some not great things happen to Roche.

Oh also, Foltest is a giant dick and uh, SPOILERS he does not try to get Roche back. Which leads to a whole subplot that will end with a found family for EVERYONE, because they all deserve to be happy dammit.

All of that was just one document lmao. I have 24 documents, some of which have quite a few WiPs in them. 😱

Kiss Prompts

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. AKA How to Fluster an Elf

When I got the idea for How to Fluster an Elf, I decided it was gonna fill the prompt dammit. And then it really, really expanded on me.

33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Roche dreams occasionally that Iorveth visits him and watches over him and sometimes speaks, but he can’t understand Elder Speech, so he assumes it’s all gibberish.

Then he finds out it’s not and suddenly he’s not so certain it’s a dream

16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Okay, I literally just need to buckle down and write some good kissing. This is set in (Im)Perfect Strangers and Iorveth is pouting about them leaving the gardens, so Roche makes it up to him.

25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

This one won’t actually be published with the kisses ‘cause it’s porn and the rest are T-rated lol. Buuuut Roche and Iorveth are trying to have a secret liaison in the forest when the rain starts. Featuring nature magic, tentacles, and Iorveth getting filled.

Scenes from Another World (aka AU premise)

Old Men in Vergen

Set during Witcher 3, but with an established relationship. Roche comes to visit Iorveth in Vergen to ask for advice on leading an insurgency. Iorveth just wants to feed Roche while he can now that he’s not the one starving in the woods.

Language Aphasia/Deal with the Devil

I wanted to write Gaunter! So I decided that Gaunter is in a mood for some mischief (he calls it being generous) and comes upon a traveling Vernon Roche who wishes that he could be understand Iorveth. Then Iorveth’s Scoia’tael find a passed out Roche in the woods and bring him to Iorveth for judgement. Only somehow, Roche only understands Elder Speech now. He can’t understand Common at all. The Scoia’tael find this very offensive and Iorveth is mostly freaked out that someone who can do THAT was wandering around his forest.

Bunk Beds: The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Based on a silly comic, Ciri convinces Iorveth and Roche to try to help her destroy the portrait. Geralt gets pissed and sends them to Bunk Bed Exile. Shenanigans ensue and somehow they start to get along.

Iorveth’s Scoia’tael Giving Him Shit For His Taste in Men aka The Lovestruck Fox

Right now, working on a piece from the POV of a new Scoia’tael recruit who is discovering that Iorveth’s Scoia’tael roast the fuck out of him over his crush on Roche.

Speaking of, anyone have suggestions on prime roast material? I am not this creative.

Let’s Torture Roche!

No, really. This one is pretty dark. And told in kind of a different style than my usual, because I felt like it. So, premise is that Iorveth and Roche were a thing in the past, but then Roche was recalled to Foltest’s side and he went. So Iorveth is understandably pretty hurt and pissed (this was decided for a prompt of someone breaking down as soon as they’re behind closed doors). Buuut what he doesn’t know is that Roche is not with Foltest of his own volition. Hostages, blackmail, and torture are all involved and Foltest is a pretty horrible guy. But of course we need a happy ending, so eventually, Iorveth will rescue Roche and they get to recover together.

Life Debt aka Iorveth is an Asshole

The concept for this was that Roche saved Iorveth’s life and now that they were no longer enemies (set during Witcher 3), his honor demands that he follow Roche around until he can repay the favor. Featuring Iorveth being a trolling asshole, correcting the new Temerian Loyalist’s fighting abilities, and Roche being very, very tired.

In application, it’s mostly angst so far, ‘cause I had to set up HOW Roche saved Iorveth’s life. And then I decided to really hurt Iorveth. But tbh I will probably skip ahead after establishing this stuff, because I just want shenanigans.

King and Country

I’ve got several WiPs for this one, including the Stripes’ recruitment, their decision to change sides, the Stripes being double agents, and of course, Iorveth and Roche’s developing relationship. But hey, I’ve skipped ahead to writing their wedding already, so... you know it ends happily ever after?

Friday Fight Night for Jan 29 (which I did not make oops)

So, this actually turned into a long piece that’s gonna be part of my Chronic Pain series. Basically, King Foltest is treating with the leaders of the Scoia’tael in Temeria and Iorveth is one of them. Unfortunately, he’s having a REALLY BAD pain day, but he’s also determined to be there to represent his people. Roche helps him see sense. Possibly forcefully.

Exhaustion Prompts

“If we’re both in this state, we both really screwed up somewhere huh?”

Iorveth and Roche are trapped in a dream and I got a little stuck creating the creature that trapped them there. But pretty sure Saskia is gonna interrupt their flirting by saving them.

“You were almost dead from pushing it too far!”

In which Roche has a heart attack from too much coffee. Yeah. He’s okay, though! But PT is about to blow a gasket and coffee will very much be disallowed.

Found Family Prompts

Taking Out the Trash for @useless-empty-brain

Literally a story about taking out the trash lmao. We’re gonna see if I can make this intersting.

Touch Starved for @mochii-girl

Honestly, haven’t gotten much done on this yet, but I’m thinking puppy pile cuddles in Corvo Bianco

Coffeeshop AU aka Brewing Romance and Dissent

Ooof I’ve got a lot of bits and pieces of this written, but nothing quite finished, except for the moment when things change from “we flirt as I order coffee” to “I make you special drinks and invite you to come visit me after hours”. Writing a canon coffeeshop au when I know shit all about coffee is HARD.

Curse Breaking

Omg this is one of the first WiPs I started for Iorveth/Roche, no joke. STILL WORKING ON IT! The premise is that Roche finds a feverish and dying Iorveth in an empty Scoia’tael camp, saves him with the power of True Love’s Kiss The Power of Strong Emotions, Like That Which You Might Have For Your Enemy. Then they team up to go save Iorveth’s Scoia’tael from a big bad mage and Roche invites Triss along for the ride, which totally doesn’t make Iorveth jealous. I kinda stalled out at the part where they reach the mage’s hideout and see the results of the mages failed experiments. On Iorveth’s people. It’s gonna hurt. A lot. But afterwards, there might be makeouts. And some sort of implication that they’re all down to do this (minus the horrible, traumatic parts) again.

Roche POV bloodplay

Roche’s POV starting from before his first encounter with Iorveth. Then he has a weirdly sexually arousing encounter with the elf, and tbh, that’s as far as I got. But Iorveth draws blood from Roche’s neck, presses his thumb to it, and then licks it off his thumb. Next, Iorveth was gonna be the one getting Uncomfortably Aroused, but I haven’t gotten that far. No idea where this is going overall.

Iorveth Investigates Roche

This kinda isn’t a real WiP in that idk if I’ll ever finish it. I mostly started it to do some worldbuilding about what public information there would be about Roche.

Voyeurism AKA Eye on You

Yeah, I don’t have much for the next chapter yet, tbh. So premise is that Iorveth accidentally ends up watching Roche get off at the brothel and finds it really, really hot. Hot enough to get curious and go back for more. Next one is going to involve thigh fucking and Iorveth might possibly get pegged by Daph??? idk

Fake Relationship

Poor @lutes-and-dandelions has been waiting forever for this one and I can’t even find a place to end the scene and post what I have so far. Premise is that Iorveth and Roche are both investigating their missing men and the trail takes them to the Murivel Resort for Couples. So they go undercover. Featuring Roche’s POV of being doubtful, Iorveth using the excuse to flirt outrageously, strip gwent, and a magic amulet that hids Iorveth’s scar and that Roche hates.

Competitive Makeouts AKA The Chase

This was kissing practice and it turned into a casefic! Which is awesome because I love casefics even though I haven’t published any yet. So in this one, as Iorveth and Roche sneak off to makeout, they also end up investigating a conspiracy in the Temerian military.

Iorveth/Roche(/Kayran) + Roche/Foltest aka Every Kiss Begins with Kayran

In which Roche accidentally walks in on Iorveth’s monthly fuck date with the Kayran and gets invited to join in. Then, somehow, it starts to turn into a relationship. With an elf and a tentacle monster. And yet, somehow, this relationship is healthier than the one with Foltest. The contrast opens Roche’s eyes.

Pining and Poignards

In which Iorveth stabs Roche with his favorite knife and wants it back and is also maybe pining a lil bit. Meanwhile Roche is rather pissed, but also curious and begins to teach himself Elder Speech to try to read the inscription on Iorveth’s knife. I stalled out in the scene where Iorveth accidentally watches Roche masturbate in the bath.

Iorveth tittyfucking Roche

Look, it’s what it says on the tin. Roche’s POV of Iorveth’s fascination with his chest and how it makes him feel and then there is sex.

Dirty Gremlin Man

Iorveth gets off on Roche being a sweaty, stinky human. Roche pins Iorveth in a fight and Iorveth gets very distracted watching a drop of sweat trail down Roche’s face. So distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t think twice before stretching out his neck and licking it. Then, of course, he remembers where he is. Featuring a very confused Roche, a smidge of jealousy, and Iorveth stealing Roche’s sweaty clothing to do unspeakable things to it. And somehow they get together.

Want me to sit in your lap?

Geralt LEGIT says this to Roche like 5 mins into the Witcher 2 and it’s GREAT. So of course, I had to write a scene where he actually got to. This is set post Witcher 2 while Geralt, Triss, Roche, and Ves are headed back to Temeria. Triss offers Geralt a little stress relief - which involves warming Roche’s cock and watching Triss and Ves get to know one another.

Red is the Rose

So, Chapter 4 is set post-Witcher 2 and Iorveth is obsessing over the fact that the Rose of Remembrance still has not wilted. He wonders what might be possible, so when he hears a rumor that a certain Temerian Commander was taken captive by Dethmold...

Dethmold most definitely dies. But unfortunately, that doesn’t save Roche from the curses he cast. So they go looking for Geralt to find out how to fix it.

This has only been 9 of my documents, y’all. I think I have a problem.

De-Aged Fic aka The language of friendship is not words but meanings

Ugh, I lost my momentum on this one, which sucks, ‘cause the next chapter is so close to done. Iorveth just needs to do a little freaking out first. But then they will both be back to adults and have to DEAL with the fact that they made good friends and would kinda like that again. I think this fic is gonna be purely friendship for them, but they’re gonna get there.

Glory Hole

A fic for the @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo where Roche hears a rumor that some Scoia’tael go to this brothel on the outskirts of town and hey, he may as well check it out, right? By going undercover and working the glory hole, of course. He never ACTUALLY expected Iorveth would come, but his legendary mouth was enticing enough to draw the Scoia’tael commander out.

Snuggling

Thirteen “accidentally” handcuffs Iorveth and Roche together when they capture Iorveth. This leads to them lying on the cot in the Stripes’ holding cell, spooning. There is banter and tickling and escapes not attempted and also maybe some sex with Inexperience Iorveth (i say maybe because I already started the sex, but idk if it will fit in).

Petals and Stripes

A weed is but an unloved flower

Okay, the Stripes are going to attempt to woo Iorveth during a battle. Also, there is a stabbing. And then a kidnapping. And then, miracle of miracles, someone actually tries talking!

One person's weed is another person's wildflower

Ves’s POV! She cleans up the mess her idiots make and terrifies the life out of one elven suitor, but first she’s gotta deal with her own conflicted feelings about her Boss, the guy she relies on to show her the shades of grey in the world, loving the elf she’s supposed to kill.

After that, I’ve got 2 more fics planned in this ‘verse. One is gonna be a fluffy and/or sexy date after Iorveth and Roche have gotten together. The other is a Scoia’tael side story, featuring lots of gossip about the humans sending their Commander love letters.

Love Shack

The Better Part of Valor

Ugh, I’m stuck on the sex again. Roche is having a really shitty day, so he goes to the cabin and signals Iorveth that he wants a round. Iorveth offers gentle (for them) sex and praise. And at the end, there’s a very significant scene where Iorveth removes his bandana. Roche buries his fingers in Iorveth’s hair, but doesn’t actually see his face, as he’s laying on his stomach with Iorveth on top of him.

Medicine

The morning after! Roche wakes up to find Iorveth in the bath, facing away from him, and notices a new scar. Iorveth has to deal with actually revealing his scars in daylight and they discuss the significant differences in elven and human medicine. Hint: I turned my own medical procedures into elven medicine, so it’s pretty fucking good.

PWP Ovi

Set ambiguously late, maybe after Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate. Iorveth and Roche explore what Roche can take. We start with overstimulation, go into consensual somnophilia, come inflation, breeding kink, and oviposition. Because elves reproduce by laying eggs, which is not at all the case purely because I started this WiP ages ago and was horny.

The Picture Says It All

There’s going to be 5 more pictures that Rinn draws for Iorveth. Next is Roche hard at work, hunched over a desk. Then we’re getting some shirtless Roche, for “research”, of course. Then Roche cuddling with PT and the rest of the team, about which Iorveth is not at all jealous. Then a face study of Roche during a fight and uh, Iorveth is uncomfortably turned on. And finally, a drawing of their cabin with a silhouette in the window. She knows.

Roche & Rinn: The Haunting of Barrack 8B

Oh man, I really want to finish the next chapter, because I already have the one after that done. But first, we get introduced to Adda! This ‘verse is going to feature Adda the White a lot more than any of my others have done so far and I’m very excited. Also, Silas continues to be terrified of the ghost and the ghost and Adda become girlfriends buddies.

Roche builds Iorveth a home

Set late in the ‘verse, after Roche knows his feelings, but they haven’t said them yet (not out loud, anyway). Iorveth takes a trip to go meet Saskia do things off screen and Roche ends up turning to his old hobby, carpentry, to keep himself from pining too obviously. So obviously he ends up builing Iorveth a solarium. And a pillow nest. And a scaffold so that flowers that blossom in the moonlight cover the glass and give them privacy.

I got stuck here because Rinn needs to give Roche a hint to get him to build the pillow nest, but I hadn’t developed Rinn and Roche’s relationship yet, so had to go back and do that. But eventually Iorveth returns and they have wonderful I’m-not-saying-it-but-i-love-you sex in the new pillow nest.

Foltest (WiP): Long Live the King

This is actually the last fic in the ‘verse, so I don’t want to give too much away. But actually, I haven’t figured out what the next chapter is, BUT I have the chapter after that started and it is GOOD, just you wait!! I’m very excited.

Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria

This ‘verse alone, I have 14 WiPs and a dozen more unwritten ideas.

(Im)Perfect Strangers

I am frustratingly stuck on this chapter. Theoreatically, we are going to have a check in on how the mountain and the rest of our cast is doing and then Roche launches his Wooing TM plan (aka dinner, gift, and dancing).

Between Two Fools

Yeah, Roche and Iorveth have very different understandings of what their gifts represent. There is some soft happiness and then a swift rug pulled out from under Iorveth’s feet, I’m afraid. BUT we are almost to the part where the two idiots sit down and actually talk properly.

Unlucky Number Thirteen

Not only do I have more of Thirteen’s story planned, but I have ideas for ALL the Stripes to have stories. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, Thirteen starts spying for Roche. A lot of still-nebulous stuff happens, including Thirteen’s first time, for which he asks Roche to help. Additionally, once we reach the (Im)Perfect Strangers timeline, Thirteen has a special story all his own. It involves learning to read and a secret I shall not yet reveal.

Silas

Like I said, all the Stripes are hopefully getting stories. But Silas’s is coming along nicely. He starts a new life as “Silas”, as a man, and joins the army. Boot camp is rough and awful and he’s not very good at any of it, but one day, Roche comes looking for a recruit. He needs a codebreaker to decipher Thirteen’s scouting reports (another one for pictures). So Silas joins the Stripes, but he’s still terrified that they’ll fnd out and think he’s been lying to them. Fortunately, they’ll be putting his fears to rest.

Stripes Sex aka Earning Your Stripes: The First Time

PT’s POV! The Stripes (pre-Silas) are all still getting comfortable with each other as a team. But Thirteen has known Roche the longest and in a specific capacity. So one evening when he needs to get out of his head, Thirteen asks Roche to dom him. PT is confused and scandalized and then jealous, but he gets to join in soon too. Meanwhile, Finch and Ves have fun with their bratty arsonist and Fenn is loving it.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance

This is very long and entirely build up to porn. And then lots of porn. A question during a random conversation leads Roche to make Iorveth ask him to take Iorveth utterly apart in a consensual non-consent fantasy set when they were still enemies in the forest.

Bath House

This was supposed to be a simple PWP where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth under his breath while the two of them are at the bathhouse with Boussy (who LOVES baths and brought them to the fancy bath house), Anais, and Thirteen (who HATE baths and react to water much like a cat). They kinda took over the story and there has been no dirty talk yet oops.

Iorveth POV: Tutti

Iorveth begins to reclaim his love for music and lets himself improvise and compose again. And he ends up writing a song that is the story of his and Roche’s romance.

Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses

The Elihal/Hattori side story! Though we haven’t actually met Hattori yet. So far, Elihal is expounding on his past and his relationship with Iorveth (he used to make all of Iorveth’s fancy gowns for concerts). Elihal and Hattori won’t play a HUGE role in (Im)Perfect Strangers, but they will be appearing!

Ves and Ciaran aka The First Rule of Fight Club

Ves is stuck walking a very long way back to Vergen with the memory of Ciaran’s skin against her teeth. And even though elves lie like breathing, she can’t help thinking about what he said about Roche not being worth her loyalty. Slowly, she begins to work some things out.

Sex with Saskia/Dragonfucking

Yeah, it’s what it sounds like. Iorveth tells Roche that Saskia agreed to a threesome and where to meet, but he neglected to mention the rather large dragon that was currently rimming his ass. Roche gets distracted from his confusion by the hotness and watches Iorveth get fucked by a dragon (with 2 dicks to fit 2 holes, of course).

Come Inflation + Piss Play

Um. Yeah, it’s a PWP where Roche asks Triss for a potion that will make him come a lot. And then Iorveth wants more. No idea where it’s going, tbh.

Stripes vs Scoia’tael: Water Balloon Fight

Literally a water balloon fight. For morale.

Baby Mama

Uh, the title is a bit telling here oops. But let’s just say Iorveth and Roche go on vacation to the cabin on top of the mountain again when Iorveth is hit with the sudden extreme urge to breed. Roche is down, but at some point, they do actually need to talk.

King Roche aka fics where Roche is in charge and hates it. Some are more in line with this than others.

Post W3 Becoming Terrorists Together

Ah yes, the murder husbands fic. Literally, Roche gets stuck leading Temeria under Emhyr’s orders and he’s good at it, but he HATES it. Enter Iorveth, who both points out security flaws, joins Roche for a surprisingly unawkward bath, and proposes that they go hunting down war criminals on their own time. How can Roche say no?

Pre-W2 Ambassadorial AU

Different first meeting AU! In this one, Iorveth is sent as the elven ambassador to Temeria and it’s about as much fun as one might expect. Triss and Roche, the other outcasts amongst Temerian court, decide to befriend him. Well, try to anyway. idk where this is going, but it’s been fun. Also, Iorveth wears a fancy braid over his eye, because I said so. Also, I might be planning an OT3 porn scene at some point, because it turns out, elves are VERY sensitive to magic XD

Leap of Faith

Okay, yeah, this has nothing to do with King Roche, but it’s the doc I was working in when I got the idea. In this one, a mage captures Iorveth for Foltest and starts torturing him. Roche, without really thinking about it, decides the mage goes too far, so he kills them. Leaving him with an elven prisoner and a castle full of people who will consider him a traitor for that. They escape the city, but now Iorveth has gotta convince Roche that no, the King really won’t forget that whole murder and prisoner escape thing.

The whole point of this fic was for me to write them jumping off a cliff lmao. When am I gonna get to that? Probably like last or second to last chapter, tbh. Which should be... after the next one? No, I lied, it’s next chapter! I need to get on that!

An ill-favour’d thing, sir, but mine own aka Possessive Sex

Piss Fic

Um. Yeah. Roche is really horny when Iorveth gets home and is on him immediately, which is great, but Iorveth has gotta piss. Which becomes less urgent as Roche is determined to have his face fucks, but after he comes all over Roche’s face, it’s VERY urgent and Roche is a fucking brat and won’t move out of the way. So obviously the response to this is to piss on Roche’s crotch - which Roche is apparently more than okay with.

Cum Dumpster Roche

Yeah, this one doesn’t have much yet, I literally just wanted Roche getting railed and claimed and L O V I N G it.

Possessiveness

Iorveth spends a lot of time thinking about his enemy, his nemesis. He’s researched Roche extensively, spent hours thinking up tactics and strategies to outwit his nemesis. He literally knows what Roche named his stupid weapons, but he’s never actually met Roche.

But he’s dreamt about it. The Roche in reality doesn’t look like the assumptions he made in his dreams, but who cares about looks? Because Roche is his, and certainly not some dh’oine king’s.

Tentacles + Breeding

Gods, this one is SO CLOSE to being done dammit, I just gotta finish it!! But it’s a fun one. Iorveth and Roche are fighting, when Iorveth suddenly starts fighting plants, which are fighting back. Then the plants notice Roche and suddenly he’s tied up with vines and his clothes are getting torn off and uh, he’s not supposed to find this hot, is he? But he really kinda does. And then Iorveth goes and claims him and tries to protect him from a nearly-extinct non-sentient plant that sensed a warm spot to lay its eggs until someone else could come along and fertilize them. Iorveth is delighted to be that person.

Dream: Pleasure Slave

Yeah, Roche really likes getting claimed in these. In this one, he has a favorite dream setting where Iorveth rules some grand elven kingdom and Roche’s only role is to bring him pleasure. Not to deal with politics or nobles or policy, but just to make Iorveth feel good. So far, this features cock warming, come inflation, a leather cock cage (so to speak), prostate milking, and a very nice silver chalice that Iorveth expects Roche to fill before they’re done.

Roche wears a collar

This was gonna be a simple lil thing based on me creating Roche in heroforge and giving him a lil hidden collar. But then Iorveth decided to get really sappy and had to design and create the perfect collar for his enemy. And then, much to his surprise, he gets the opportunity to PUT his collar on Roche. Which is great, except the sight distracts him so much that Roche manages to escape.

But the next time they meet, Roche is still wearing that collar, hidden under his chaperon and armor. Iorveth has feelings about that.

Standalone

Crones fic aka And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

So this is the angsty fic that started from a crack premise. Er, one of them. I seem to do that a lot. But in this one, Roche goes to the Ladies of the Woods and asks for his men back. The Ladies agree, in exchange for 6 lifetimes of service. But no creature can reverse death. Which leads to the Stripes coming back to “life” as ghosts - only Roche is the only one who can see them. Ves can’t (not at first).

Believe it or not, the whole idea behind this was the Stripes roasting Roche as he tries to flirt (terribly) with Iorveth. But uh... somehow it turned pretty dark. Like, it’ll have a happy ending for sure, but it’s gonna be a lot about processing trauma and grief and building families and also curing a plague, because that’s the first assignment from the Ladies.

Stripes fics

Cuddles with the Commander

This is intended to be a sequel to The Pride of Temeria, but I kinda got stuck figuring out exactly how Roche should react. Tbh, I don’t have much of this written yet, but the goal is for Roche to approve cuddles with everyone lmao.

Fire Breating

Okay, this one started as crack purely because I love fire, but it’s actually been really fun. So, Iorveth and Roche are established and Iorveth has been invited to a family night with the Stripes, which is kinda a lil awkward. So they decide to showcase some of their talents - which includes Roche singing musicals and PT breathing fire.

Iorveth is horrified that humans have harnessed this skill.

Iorveth’s missing eye

This is really short and idk if I’ll continue it, but the idea was for Roche to really wonder what was up with the bandana over half of Iorveth’s face was about. And then, of course, to find out.

Iorveth Gangbang

Why is this under Stripes fics, you might ask? Well, I have great news for you. Guess who the gang is?

In which Iorveth and Roche are in an established relationship and Iorveth gets tied up in the middle of the Stripes’ camp while Roche orders his men to take him apart. Iorveth very much enjoys himself, and then when the Stripes are tapped out, Roche shows ‘em how it’s done.

Kink Bingo fics aka that event that I totally failed, but hey, prompts are prompts.

Age Kink

In this fic, Iorveth and Roche both end up captured by unknown forces and end up imprisoned together. I think the Stripes and Scoia’tael are probably working together to find them and save them, but in the meantime, Iorveth and Roche decide to get to know each other a bit better. Featuring muscle spasms, blow jobs, and pain kink.

Eskel/Lambert (okay, a little out of place here, but eh, it’s in the doc and I am still working on it)

Started for a prompt on tumblr, Eskel and Lambert end up fighting and, trying to keep the peace, Eskel casts axii on Lambert. Which leads to Lambert confessing that he bit Eskel because it’s the only way he could get his mouth on him. This leads to some dodged confessions, some frottage, and some snarky banter, because of course it does.

Tempt Not a Desperate Man aka the Fuck or Die series that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours

Fisting

The next part of the series, where Roche struggles with the fact that he’s been high key horny ever since the encounter in the woods with Iorveth and nothing is satisfying him. Iorveth, on the other hand, is jealous and annoyed that Roche keeps going to the whorehouse.

Then Roche decides to make a potentially suicidal move and enters the forest to try to find the clearing from last time. And, as you might guess from my heading, fisting will be happening.

Iorveth POV: The Chaperon

Okay, I don’t actually have much of this written, but it’s really cute so - Roche keeps using his chaperon as a cum rag, so Iorveth knits and/or sews him a new one.

“Human Bootlicker”

PWP where Iorveth jokingly suggestions Roche should surrender on his knees - and then Roche does. And asks Iorveth to take his prize. Featuring Roche coming all over Iorveth’s boots from getting his face fucked, then leaning down and licking up the mess while Iorveth watches and then comes over his face.

One Accidental Proposal and Five Attempts At Accepting

So one of the themes of this ‘verse is gonna be the Elven Baths where the Roses of Remembrance grow. As in, they decide to make the elven baths a place they meet up. This is the first time Iorveth takes Roche there, and Roche does not know what significance the roses have. But he DOES know that Iorveth blushes cutely when he tucks a rose behind Iorveth’s ear, so...

Iorveth would like to accept, only Roche doesn’t know WHAT he’s trying to accept.

The Legend

So in the game, there is a legend around the statue of elven lovers above the elven baths. “Legend has it the lover’s sighs are enchanted within these very stones, though only those in love can hear them.”

Iorveth overhears his Scoia’tael gossiping about the legend and comes to an abrupt realization that Roche and him were the ones they were hearing. Oops?

Standalone Fics

Letters

This is kind of a bittersweet WiP that I mostly wrote in one go and then went to sleep and kinda lost the will for it. BUT the premise is that post-Witcher 3 Roche is in charge of Temeria and his brooding is interrupted when he receives a letter sealed with a forget me not pressed into wax. Iorveth continues to send letters describing his life as a “civilian” in Nilfgaard and how much he hates it and Roche relates a little bit too much. Then Iorveth decides to run away and live on the streets as a musician and he might inspire Roche to start learning the cello and presumably at some point, they meet.

Identity Porn

Iorveth and Roche have a meet cute in Flotsam’s tavern while the elf is listening in for local gossip and Roche is passing through on his way to meet with the other northern kings to get support in fighting against the new emerging threat of the Scoia’tael. Neither knows who the other is, but that doesn’t stop them from starting a relationship where they meet every time Roche passes through Flotsam. But their house of cards can only last so long, and at some point, they will meet as enemies. Who knows what happens then? idk, not me.

Gwent pinup calendar aka Cards Out for Your Country

Hahaha, so I started this series in response to some WONDERFUL art of Roche with his Tits Out For Temeria. And obviously we need more of that, so I created a list of 24 characters who are asked to pose for some pinup art, all in the name of Gwent. So far, I’ve only finished Dandelion’s pose/the introduction, but I do plan to do as many of them as I physically can.

Gwent Game in Corvo Bianco

Wow, I didn’t even remember this WiP, so uh... clearly I haven’t worked on it in a while. But it’s Iorveth’s POV of how surprisingly comfortable he is in Corvo Bianco and Iorveth and Geralt get drunk and play gwent.

Zoltan/Jaskier/Priscilla

A giftfic for Wibbly that involves Zoltan being sappy about his bards and then Priscilla dominates them. Featuring all my headcanons about dwarven genitalia (two holes, one with a retractible dick).

Dijkstra fics

Noticing Roche’s Fucked Up Relationship

Anyone else randomly finding themselves shipping Dijkstra/Roche? No? Ah well. For this one Dijkstra observes Roche and sees a few too many reminders of himself with Vizimir, except Foltest is no Vizimir, and Roche clearly hasn’t learned to set up boundaries. Dijkstra feels weirdly compelled to help him figure that out before Foltest destroys him.

Developing Respect Fic

Also known as “let’s torture Roche 1.0!” This fic switches between the present, where Roche has woken up in a cell somewhere unknown and it brings back far too many memories for him to be entirely sure of what is happening when. In the past, he was captured by Redania while on a mission for Foltest, long before he was anyone notable. Dijkstra comes to visit, curious about this prisoner who refuses to break, to even tell them his name or confirm his country (but he has a Temerian tramp stamp, so they know lmao). So Dijkstra decides that this is not a man who will be broken through torture and decides to try conversation instead. The idea is to show them slowly gaining respect for each other, but like, obviously Roche is still a prisoner. Eventually, he’s returned to Temeria in a prisoner exchange, but meanwhile, in the present, Roche is all alone, with not even guards around and no way to free himself.

and that’s all!! I am... legitimately scared to count, tbh. This post is so fucking long, the number cannot be good for my heart. But, that said, please come talk to me about any ideas you find interesting!! Or anything you have questions about!

And if you made it this far down the list... wow. Thank you, you rock.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #don't cry for me temeria #wip wednesday #my fics #WiPs #yeah it's not wednesday but whatever i finished the list

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

the fic you wrote for my last prompt was amazing, ty 😭 can you do 50 + 56 this time please? and if you want to work in dyslexic!steve too that would be awesome! 🥰

You are speaking my fuckin’ language, dyslexic Steve is my ABSOLUTE jam. Honestly, whenever I write Steve, he’s dyslexic, although sometimes it’s not mentioned because it’s not important to Harry’s journey @ jk rowling

Thank you for your request! I’m really glad you liked the other one I wrote! You’re anonymous so I don’t know which one that is but I really enjoyed writing them all! Sorry for my manic energy rn.

Something a little different, it’s modern au! This is probably nothing like what you were thinking so I’m sorry, but I kinda love it ngl.

50: Secret Admirer

56: “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”

Prompt list!

Billy spent three and a half hours reading through every single tweet on the account.

There were so fucking many of them. The earliest one was timestamped from four days ago, so obviously, this person had no life outside of tweeting.

Tweeting about Billy.

He had a few personal favorites. He had retweeted them to his account, figuring may as well play it up, make a joke outta everything.

@ImHardForHargrove: sorry WHOMST gave you the RIGHT to have eyes that fuckin blue im YELLING

@ImHardForHargrove: watchin u play basketball is a religious experience y are ur arms so BIG hhnnnng

And Billy’s absolute favorite, which he pinned right at the top of his account

@ImHardForHargrove: ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass

Billy knew he looked good. Knew he turned heads wherever he went. He did that on purpose. But realizing someone at Hawkins High had set up a thirst account for him, well.

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.” Billy had explained the situation to Robin, letting her go through the account on his phone. “Like, It’s kinda nice, whoever this guy is, he’s got a crush. But also like, It’s kinda creepy. Plus he’s objectifying me,” Billy was talking through his sandwich.

Robin made a face of disgust. “Why do you keep saying ‘he’? All of the girls in this fucking school are practically drooling for you.”

“Hard for Hargrove, Robin. I know you’re like, revolted by the peen and whatever but that does not excuse a lack of basic sexual education and anatomy.” She gagged at him. Honest to God, gagged. He thought she was gonna spew all over the table.

“If I ever hear you call it a peen ever again, it’s on sight Hargrove.” Heather plopped herself down next to Robin, kissing her cheek before zeroing in on Billy’s phone, still in Robin’s hand.

“Have you guys worked out who it could be yet?” Her eyes were wide at Billy.

“Billy says he thinks its a guy even though people with penises aren’t necessarily men.” Robin gave him a pointed look.

“Yeah Robin, I know that, but, I don’t know I just think it’s a guy penis-having person.”

Heather narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you actually think that, or are you just hoping in that goblin little brain of yours that this account is Steve Harrington’s.” Billy could feel the heat spread down his neck.

“Billy, I know Steve is like, the only out guy in this whole fucking town, but you can do way better than him. PLUS, I feel like it makes more sense if the person running this account wasn’t out and had to channel their gay yearning through social media.”

“First of all Robin, you have this vendetta against Steve that I don’t get. He’s a nice guy. He’s kinda dopey, kinda dumb, but he’s like, sweet and shit. Second, I’m not out, so it still could be him because he doesn’t think I would, like, accept his advances or whatever. Hence, gay internet yearning.” The chime of the bell sent them packing their lunches, Billy’s phone vibrated in Robin’s hand. She rolled her eyes when he realized he turned on notifications for the account

“Get a fucking life you loser.” She slapped the phone into his hand. He opened the new tweet with embarrassing zeal.

@ImHardForHargrove: i saw u talking with ur mouth full and it was yucky but i was still 🥺🥺

His head shot up, trying to see who would have been facing him during lunch, but the cafeteria was almost empty.

The rest of the week Billy took deliberate care of every interaction he had with anyone. Observing who was in his surroundings, and making note of everything he did and said. He took extra caution around Steve, wanting to spot any minute detail that could give away who ran the account.

The account started blowing up. People were retweeting like fucking crazy. Everywhere he went, he was being asked if he’s seen it, like he doesn’t regularly retweet the good ones. The search for the owner of the account had spread throughout the whole school. A few girls even tried to claim the account was theirs, but every time that happened the account would tweet out something to discredit whoever made the claim, proving them a liar.

Billy was starting to lose hope it was Harrington. The tweets were coming at all different times, posted whenever the person thought about it, so Billy was losing track of who was near when he said or did something. And the tweets were always about stupid stuff Billy didn’t register doing. On Wednesday night the account said

@ImHardForHargrove: hi when you chew on your pencil and it makes me 🥴 that is all thx for comin to my ted talk

Friday afternoon gave them all:

@ImHardForHargrove: walked past ur classroom and u were asleep ive never wanted to CUDDLE someone so bad in my LIFE

But Saturday, Saturday renewed all hope for Harrington Billy could possibly have. Lauren Kranz was throwing a party. It was the first real rager in a while, so everyone was there, and everyone was sloshed. Everyone but Billy, who’d agreed to be designated driver for Robin and Heather like some kinda idiot.

He was brooding on the back porch when his phone went off. The account was active, and the owner was drunk.

@ImHardForHargrove: I can seeeeee u oyt the windw I wan u 2 FUC ME. RAW DOG.

@ImHardForHargrove: srry ur so beauitiful nd THICCC

@ImHardForHargrove: I wana shoot my shot but idk if u lik bois

@ImHardForHargrove: (ys i am boi)

@ImHardForHargrove: nd i dont wana get my heart broken agin 😥

He was right about it being a guy. He was right about him being too nervous to approach him outright. His brain was screaming stevestevesteve at him. Hawkins was shook when Steve came out as bisexual in his sophomore year. He was the golden boy, a real jock. He was NOT the kind of guy people would assume queer in a small midwestern town.

He was kind of a douchebag, dumping one girl for another, sleeping with her and never calling again. But then he settled down with this guy from the University of Indianapolis for a few months until Steve caught him cheating. Apparently, he had slashed the guy’s tires. Billy was impressed.

The next year came Wheeler, who only stuck around long enough to make sure Steve was nice and whipped before she fucked off on him too. So Steve retreated. Spent more time with middle schoolers than anybody else. Didn’t want to put his heart on the line anymore until he knew it wouldn’t be stomped on. Billy could respect that.

Billy couldn’t risk being out in a town like Hawkins. Word always had a way of getting right back to his dad, and in a tiny hick town with nothing better to do than gossip, it was usually only a matter of hours before Neil heard something he didn’t like.

@ImHardForHargrove: srry 4 bad typing rn. drunk nd dysl exic ren’t a happy combo

Billy’s heart stopped. The drunken idiot was giving himself away. Maybe if he sat here staring at the account long enough, enough would be revealed he could figure it all out like a shitty drunk episode of Blue’s Clues.

He was so focused on Twitter, refreshing his feed, again and again, he didn’t notice a very drunk, and very unsteady Steve Harrington stumbling out the back door towards him. Until he crashed into his back.

“Sorry, Bill!” Billy had Steve by the shoulders trying to keep him upright. “Heyy I have a question for you.” Steve grabbed one of Billy’s hands and veered over to the table and chairs arranged neatly on the small patio. When they were sitting, Steve kept ahold of Billy’s hand.

“Hi.” Steve was smiling like a little kid. Billy was in fucking love.

“hey, Harrington. What was your question.”

“So-oo. I have this friend. A very good friend. Super close. And he has a big ol’ crush on you but he’s too scared to ask you himself because he keeps getting his heart fuckin’ broken so he wanted me to ask. Are you into guys?” It’s a miracle Billy understood any of that, every word blending into the next.

“That depends.” Billy leaned in, running his tongue along his bottom lip. He saw Steve take in a sharp breath, following the movement with his glazed eyes. He knew Steve was talking about himself, he just wanted to rile him up a little. Make him blush first. “This friend you’re talkin’ about. He’s our age? Like you’re not trying to set me up with one a’ your kids, right?” Steve physically recoiled.

“NO, you fuckin’ pedo. I’m NOT trying to set you up with a fuckin’, fuckin’ middle schooler. My friend is, uh eighteen. He’s a senior.” Unless Tommy fuckin’ H. suddenly had a penchant for dick Billy didn’t know about, Steve was 100% talking about himself.

“Well, if he’s as pretty as you are, I’d love to go out with him sometime.” Billy winked. Steve went red.

“Okay, but like, does that mean you’d go out with me? Like I’m as pretty as me, right? Because I was talking about me. Not ‘a friend’ I was talking about me. Steve.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out. You know, I was hoping it was you running that Twitter. Any time you’d tweet out something you wanted to do with me, I was always picturin’ doing it with you, Baby.” Billy was practically purring. “Especially all the shit you wanted me to do TO you.” Steve gave something between a whine and a groan and flopped himself onto Billy’s lap, straddling him with very little grace.

“Thank God. ‘Cause you’re so fucking hot I’d let you do anything to me. Anything, Bill.” Billy smiled softly at him.

“Then let me take you home. Let me put you in bed to sleep off all this. And let me take you to breakfast tomorrow. Something nice and greasy for your hangover tummy.” Steve was a puddle in Billy’s lap. “C’mon, Drunky, git your ass up.” Steve just giggled and muttered Drunky Skunky under his breath.

Billy sighed and stood up, hefting Steve up with him.

“Bil-ly,” Steve whined. “You’re so strong, this is so fucking hot. I gotta tweet about this.”

“Tweet it later, Sweet Thing.”

It took Billy for-fucking-ever to find Robin and Heather (they were making out in the basement with the stoners). But Steve chirped and cooed into his ear, so happy Billy could lift him and hold him like it was nothing.

The last tweet from the account was timestamped from Sunday evening.

@ImHardForHargrove: Hi this is Steve. Billy’s my boyfriend now 🥰#ThirstWorks

#I'm gonna reblog this in the morning too #Im v proud of it I want people to SEE IT #harringrove #steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargorve #modern au #modern harringrove #yikes writes #harringrove prompts #Harringrove Prompts list #harringrove prompt fill #prompt fill #prompt fic

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sierracolorstheworldofwords · 4 years

Text

Yandereplier x anxious reader

An: Idk if anyone is going to read this but if you do and somehow like it HIT that reblog button babey! And also hit me up with a request if u want. Anyway, this was a request from Wattpad, and I have more one shots on there! The name of said wattpad is in my bio! :3 ALSO TRIGGER WARNING: Reader has an anxiety attack! So if that triggers you or anything please skip this! And read some of my other fics bc yes I’m plugging!

It all started with that nightmare.

Yan and you sat underneath a cherry tree in full bloom, each pink petal a promise, each soft flower a gentle declaration of love.

The sky was a beautiful island blue, and the clouds looked like they were painted onto the sky, just for you. You could see patches of them through the dark, curved branches of the tree, and feel the warm sun, sweet like honey, shining on your face.

Everything was.. perfect. You wished you could stop time forever, make this moment into a crystal bubble, preserve it in a snow globe forever.

"I have to tell you something." Yan said suddenly, fingers unwrapping from yours.

You turned towards him, taking in his gentle eyes— a beautiful brown that in the right light, looked red.

"Yeah?" You whispered softly, a love struck smile on your face.

He looked away from you, up at the sky, cracking his knuckles, "You know how I said I'd love you forever?"

"Of course! You tell me everyday—"

He took a deep breath, "That's changed. I found someone else."

You sat up suddenly, looking down at him in confusion, heart pounding fiercely in your chest, "Wh-what? Yan.. Yan that's not funny—"

"It's not a joke, senpai— wait, I can't call you that, anymore, because you're not my senpai. I can't believe I even dated you! You were just trying to waste my time and keep me away from my real senpai!"

"Wh-what?! No!"

"You're so stupid and worthless, all you do is whine and I honestly can't believe I even loved you!"

A pair of legs appeared in front of Yan, a faceless figure standing in front of him. The opposite of you, everything you couldn't be... smart, witty, attractive, actually deserving of Yan's love. You watched Yan sit up, a smile on his face— a smile that used to belong to you and you alone.

"Senpai!"

He got up, hugged the mysterious person, and grabbed their hand, "Let's leave this freak! I missed you so much!" He cooed, leaning on their shoulder, completely love struck.

"Y-Yan! Wait!" You stood up, wanting to chase him, but you couldn't. You were stuck, as if your legs had been welded to the ground below you.

"See senpai? I'm so dedicated to you. I broke their heart to prove how much I love you— do you want me to break their bones too, senpai?"

The world stopped. Everything froze like an icy tundra. You fell to your knees, looking at them going further and further away, seeing Yan going further and further away.

Your heart felt like it'd been pulled out of your chest and beaten with a baseball bat full of nails. All you could do was watch Yan leave, seeing his red hair fade away. You sobbed as your everything—the only person you truly trusted left, laughing wickedly, not even caring about how you felt, not even caring.. not caring at all.

"Yan!" You screamed.

You stood up. Legs finally moving.

Maybe you could convince him! You loved him! You could convince him! You— you loved him!

"Come back!"

You began to run, legs finally working, you desperately reached for him, the world a blurry mess of tears, "YAN! COME BACK! PLEASE—"

But he didn't.

He disappeared. Didn't look back. kept going. Leaving you like an old doll he'd gotten bored of, finding a new toy instead.

You alone. Again.

With no one to turn to. Again.

Nobody to care for. Again.

Nobody caring about you. Again.

Alone. Again.

Blackness crawling into your chest again, loneliness nesting inside of your rib cage, cocooning itself inside you. Again. Again. Again.

Alone.

Again.

You woke up with a soft whimper, heart pounding in your chest as you felt warm tears falling down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, crying softly and hugging your pillow.

Maybe you should call Yan.

He'd be more than happy to comfort you! You sat up, grabbed your phone of the charger, and noticed the time— School was in hour. You sighed. He probably wouldn't even be awake now.

You lay down back down, wondering if you should text Yan.. everything that happened in your head kept ringing over and over again, especially what Yan said. You knew it was a nightmare, but it felt so real. Like it did actually happen.. like.. like it was going to happen. Could Yan ever.. ever find someone else? Someone who was better than you? He probably could, right? Then.. then he'd leave you all alone..

Your stomach curled into a tight, knot, and you felt the familiar fear run like a spiked metal wire in your veins, causing your heart to pound harder. What if it was all gonna happen? Not today or tomorrow, but.. someday? He could easily find someone else. He was so amazing and you.. you weren't.

Yan always said he loved you but.. but.. did he really? You were an anxious mess with too much emotional baggage, and sure, he had his problems, being possessive and clingy but.. but he didn't have the type of background you had. It just didn't make sense why he would choose you of all people. Your anxiety just made the thought worse, dangling it above your head and maliciously smirking.

You closed your eyes, listening to the voice in your head telling you that Yan was going to leave you, and that you might as well get ready for it. Prepare for the inevitable. Did you really think he would actually wanna stay with you? Really? Really? Look at yourself, you're crying over a stupid bad dream, almost always insecure and almost as clingy as Yan. You were surprised he didn't find the constant need of reassurance from him annoying yet.

You wiped your tears and turned your phone back on and opened up your messages, reading a few from Yan—

Omg Senpai! I just saw the cutest person today! You'll never guess who!

....It was you! Love you! <3

A smile crossed your features and you wiped your eyes, of course he loved you. Of course he did. You scrolled up and read another one.

Senpai I can't wait for you to come over this weekend! :3 I'm so excited~! We're gonna watch so much anime and cuddle so much! :D I love cuddling with you, you're perfect cuddle size. uwu

Your cheeks flushed a little, and the voice in your head snickered. You really think he loves you? It asked, swirling in your head like a snake of smoke, all those cheesy messages don't mean shit. Maybe he does love you now, maybe— but don't you think he'll get tired of you?

You frowned, arguing with it. Wondering why Yan would say those things if he didn't mean them. Of course he meant them! You knew he did. He wasn't the type to lie about loving someone. That just wasn't Yan at all!

But how do you know? And maybe he does mean them.. or maybe he did mean them, but he doesn't mean them anymore because you were so annoying and he was just saying all those things to get you to shut up. The voice filled your head, burning up all the messages with questions of why, and how and really? What if it was all a lie? What if he used to like you and now he didn't— You slammed your eyes shut. Covering them with your hands as you gritted your teeth, asking yourself if you really were gonna cry over something so stupid?

How could Yan even love you when you were like this?

Your alarm rang and you gasped, sitting up, remembering you had to pack— today was Friday, you were supposed to go over to Yan's house for the weekend. Would you be annoying? Maybe you should cancel? Say.. say you couldn't come over? But.. he got everything prepared and— you sighed softly, rummaging through your drawer and stuffing clothes into your backpack.

Your phone buzzed, you looked at it before picking it up from your bed, turning it on and opening it. Reading the message from Yan—

Good morning Senpai! It's Friday and I'm so excited!! Don't forget to pack! :3 Also love you and have a good day! I'll see you soon! Love you! Ok bye

A small smile bloomed on your lips, and you texted back, hearing that small seed of doubt as you did. You ignored it, sending a message that read— Morning Yan-Yan! Can't wait to see you and stay over, and don't worry, I packed up. Love you too and see you soon~

You placed it back on your bed and fixed up your hair before brushing up your teeth and getting dressed, making sure to grab your phone and headphones before you did. Then you went to school.

When you arrived, you met Yan in the cafeteria, he brought breakfast for you, which was an unexpected surprise, and all he asked in return was a kiss. (Which you found adorable, and of course you gave him one.)

The two of you ate outside, watching the sun rise as you talked. You wondered if you should tell him about your nightmare, but you didn't want to ruin his happy mood, or be annoying. Before you knew it, your first class started and Yan walked you to class, giving you a kiss and a hug before running to his class.

The rest of the day.. was.. a day.

Your anxiety kept piling up, and then just found more reasons for Yan to hate you—

looks, grades, the way you speak, how you talk too much, your smile, your eyes, the way you walked, the clothes you wore.. everything.

By the time the day was over, thoughts swirled in your head like a tornado, and when you went to meet him by your locker, it took everything in you to not cry and panic. Your stomach hurt and your heart pounded as your brain kept saying— he's gonna leave. Not be here. You'll be all alone. He won't miss you. He doesn't need you. Can't you be better?

You leaned against your locker, head swirling as your chest felt like it was being wrapped up in a giant fist. Your lungs constricted. Your heart pounded. Palms sweated. Throat dry. The world blurring, people becoming slashed of color, the school becoming nothing but a blur that felt.. that felt like distant waves at sea. Real, recognizable, but not entirely there, dreamlike in a sickening way.

"Senpai?"

Yan.

Your eyes snapped up, focusing on him, the world a buzz of noise. You were so stupid! You just had to go and panic, didn't you? Ruin everything like some sick disease—

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

You couldn't breathe.

He should've been yelling at you! Scolding you! Punishing you! Giving you a reason to cry! A reason to be scared so why, why was he being so nice?

Air rushed in and out your throat as you tried to speak, words replaced with shallow harsh breaths. You placed a hand on your chest, heart pounding loudly in your ears.

Softly, Yan grabbed your hand, holding you close as everything crashed— crashed, crashed like a boat in the middle of a fearful storm, crashed like a frantic car speeding down the high way and off a cliff, crashed.

Yan pushed people out the way, practically slamming the school doors open before picking you up and cradling you like the gentle cargo you were. Fishing the keys out of his skirt pocket, he clicked the button, unlocked his red Cadillac, before opening the back seat door and placing you there, climbing in next to you and closing the door shut.

You looked at him, the eye of the storm, the patch of sky in the middle of the tornado and—

"Don't leave me Yan!" You sobbed, clinging on to him desperately, hands digging into the soft fabric of his white shirt and you cried.

"Leave you Senpai? Why would I leave?"

You couldn't even answer back, your breathing was too rapid, too much, your nerves felt like they were on fire, and the world wasn't real— or was it real and you weren't? Or was none of it real and you were just floating? And scared? And alone? And—

"Senpai." Yan whispered, his voice a soft breeze, "I'd never leave you, senpai. Never."

You only responded with a gasping sob, throat feeling like it'd been scratched over a thousand times.

Yan placed a hand under your quivering chin, lifting your face turning your face towards him.

"Breathe senpai, breathe— slowly." He murmured, scooting closer and using his other hand to stroke your cheek, "breathe.. breathe.."

You closed your eyes, taking a shaky breath, feeling your lungs expand like blooming pink flowers.

"That's right Senpai, just breathe for me, okay?"

You nodded, swallowing back tears and feeling him shift and wrap his arms around you loosely.

"Breathe out.."

You let out a deep breath.

"Breathe in."

You breathed in through your nostrils, feeling the air travel down your throat as you calmed down and wiped your tears away.

"Better?"

You nodded.

He wrapped his arms tight around you, kissing your forehead, "I'll never leave you Senpai."

You snuggled into his chest, saying nothing.

"I mean it. No matter what that mean voice in your head—who I really need to beat up by the way— says. I love you Senpai. You and only you."

You looked at him, eyes big and wide, vulnerable, begging him to reassure you like always. He practically read your thoughts.

"I mean it Senpai," he whispered, "I really do—

And I don't care how many times I have to tell you, because I want you to believe it, so if I have to say it a hundred or a thousand times then I'll say it. Because I love you."

You gave him a watery smile, warm tears pricking the corners of your eyes, "I love you too Yan-Yan."

He smiled, kissing your forehead, before tucking your head underneath his neck and softly rubbing your back.

“I love you so, so much Senpai," he whispered, "I'd do anything for you, and I mean anything."

Your heart pounded like always when he said those type of things— his words were so reassuring.. you snuggled into his chest, wrapping your arms around him.

"I love you so much— I'm.. im surprised you haven't left me yet, senpai..."

You gasped, pulling away momentarily, "Oh Yan! I'd never leave! I love you too much!"

The yandere smiled, grabbing your hands in his, "That's exactly how I feel Senpai.."

You smiled softly, wiping the last of your tears before hugging him again. The two of you cuddled for a while before you let out a yawn, exhausted from your anxiety filled day.

“Let's go home, senpai! Then we can take a nap!"

You nodded and agreed, crawling into the front seat, Yan followed and started up his car, clearly excited. His cheeks flushed and a smile crossed his face— causing your stomach to flutter like always. Yan didn't even know how beautiful he was, sometimes.. nor did he know how cute he could be. His hand rested on the gear shift between you, while the other one held the wheel as he backed out of the school, once he was onto the road, you grabbed his hand.

"Yan?"

"Yes senpai?"

"Y-you know how you have nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"I had one this morning.." you said softly, sadly, "and it was about you leaving.. and I just thought I should tell you.."

Yan stopped at a red light and looked at you as you continued, "I-it was about you leaving me and finding someone else.."

"Senpai.. I'd never, ever do that. There's no one else as wonderful and amazing and— and ahhh senpai! There's so many things about you that I love.. and I know you're scared of me leaving, but I promise I won't, okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

"I really do mean it, senpai. I love you so much. I— before I met you.. I.. I didn't feel anything at all, and I'd always have to pretend to be happy.. b-but.. when you came into my life.. I felt.. I felt so.. happy—" tears welled up in his eyes, and he turned towards the stoplight, realizing it was green with a nervous laugh, "I'm such a baby— the lights green!"

He pushed the break with his foot and continued driving to his house. You couldn't help but feel your heart pound, not out of fear.. but out of pure love for your Yan-Yan. Your stomach looped itself into playful knots as his words played over and over again in your head.

"Yan.. I feel the same way. Ever since I met you.. I.. I.. know what it's like to be happy.." you whimpered, eyes welling up again, causing you to wipe your tears, "and that's why I get so anxious— and why you get anxious too.. because we're so afraid of losing each other but.. but.. I.. I know that I'd never leave you.. and I'm starting to believe you'll never leave me either.. and I'm sorry it's taking me so long to believe it.. I'm always used to people leaving."

You saw Yan smile softly, and then his smile widened, brown eyes shining with determination, "Well senpai! I'll just have to make sure you believe it! Because I really mean it, I won't ever leave you!"

You smiled again, cheeks flushing, "Thank you Yan.. I— I love you so much."

His face turned red as his smile grew, "I love you too Senpai."

Soon enough, the both of you pulled into his driveway and got out the car, going straight to his bedroom and changing into pajamas. After that, the both of you snuggled underneath the covers, exchanging love struck glances and soft kisses, until.. you both eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.

#yandereplier #yandereiplier #yandereiplier x reader #yandereplier x reader #ego x reader #iplier ego x reader #fan fic #my writing #iplier ego #yandere #sierra’s writing

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finleyjayne · 4 years

Text

Silent Echoes

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: may have missed a few swears while editing... IDK excessive Beyonce (Can that even be a thing), Mentions of previous sound deprivation.

Summary: Bucky and Sam have a friendly feud that will last for the decades. This time Sam’s immaturity reaches extremes and Bucky is ready to gouge his ears out. Will you sacrifice your own peace to help Bucky, or are you going to leave him to stew in his self made agony.

Word Count:1,241

Bucky was always surprised by the range of sounds that surrounded him every day. No matter where he went, there was some kind of noise. Even when he was wandering the half-empty halls of the compound or trying to find peace in the nearby wildlife. It didn't even matter the time of day. Chatter, arguments, gunshots, the clicking of type keys, songbirds, owls, snoring, panting, and music.

Don't get him wrong it wasn't that Bucky hated the symphony that surrounded him. Often times, he found himself sitting out of the way just listening to the choirs that he could hear. It was preferable to the silence that had surrounded him during his time with HYDRA. They had been vigilant in keeping him from overhearing anything that could have derailed his compliance and, therefore, had soundproofed everything tenfold.

Today, however, the noise had gotten to be too much. It took every ounce of willpower in Bucky's enhanced being not to stuff his ears with cotton and scream himself just to drown out the sounds. It didn't help that Sam was on his case about his "outdated" sense in music, again. Blasting Tupac, Beyonce, and a multitude of other LOUD musicians, so loud that even if Bucky wasn't enhanced, he would still be able to hear it in any of the Avengers' designated rooms of the compound. Since he WAS, though, he ended up being physically unable to get far enough away from the petulant man-child's antics.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky stared into the high skylights of his current hiding place, fighting back the frustrated tears that were pushing against his eyelids. There has to be someplace where the noise stops. Somewhere where he can sit and not be distracted by someone's footsteps or triggered by someone's idle conversations. Someplace safe.

Before Bucky could fall further into his frustrations, a soft set of footprints danced their way to the opposite side of the sparring mats where he laid sprawled out on his back. He looked up to see you execute a perfect tumbling pass only to end up lying on your back perpendicular to him, your head gently coming to rest on his hard belly.

"SO, what did you do to get Sam riled up this time?" You say, draping your friend and teammate's arm out from under you before playing with his fingers. "Honestly, I have no clue," He sighs, causing you to look up into his face. "I wish I knew how to make it stop, though." He looked at you with the most sincere puppy-dog eyes you have ever seen, the unshed tears enhancing your view into his hopelessness.

"So you didn't happen to say, 'Sam shut off that shit, or I swear to god I will beat you until you no longer have any hearing left,' or some such nonsense while he was listening to Beyonce on repeat this morning?" You smirk, knowing full well that he did. "You recognize that he worships that woman. He could put Tony's obsession with himself to shame."

Sighing, he looks away, "Yeah, But can you blame me? He had been listening to the ONE song for Hours, Echo. HOURS."

Smiling at him sympathetically. "Winter, you could've been a bit nicer. Though honestly, if you hadn't done it, I would have. I don't think he realizes how much we can hear. I know Steve just dealt with his antics because he's a saint. But sadly, neither of us are, and he isn't here to curb Sam's crazy."

Bucky grimaces at the reminder of his best friend's newfound sabbatical. "Yeah, Steve is good at that sort of thing. But that doesn't solve our current problem. How are we going to get him to stop?"

"We don't need him to stop, you need him to stop," you correct your now perplexed human pillow. "I fully intend to use my own personal Batcave. Wait out the worst of the storm. According to FRIDAY's statistics, he should get tired of this shit in about three hours, should be just enough time to read a romance novel, take a nap, and maybe even paint a little bit."

You could feel the eyebrows on Bucky's raise in disbelief. "You can't possibly have somewhere on base that can block out sound well enough for you to not hear this hysteria."

Laughing, "You think I didn't make that my first stipulation when I moved into this madhouse to join this merry band of heroic misfits? I knew you've taken your fair share of head blows, but I thought the glowing blue stuff they filled your veins with prevented CTE." You lean up onto your grounded forearm into a sideways plank before flipping into a cartwheel over Bucky's chest. "I'm not sure how you haven't found it. Tony made it into a literal dead zone. It's like a giant box of silence that sound bounces off of like steve's patriotic frisbee and BBEG noggins."

Bucky shakes his head, bemused by your antics. "Doll, if you haven't noticed, I don't echolocate shit. That's what you are paid for. and I figured that since your private rooms were basically soundproof that Tony had done his best."

Still smirking playfully at him. "Stark rarely does less than perfect work, Barnes, especially when he pairs his brain with Shuri's. You should know that since you wear one of their mechanical miracles connected to your shoulder almost all the time."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want," He mutters.

"Hey, don't be such a leech." You say, nudging the aforementioned limb with your toe.

Staring up at you defensively, he pouts, "I am not a leech, what does that even mean?

"It means you suck all of the joy out of me teasing you. You know I don't mean to cause harm, I care for you and all the shiny, mechanical bits that come along for the ride."

He scrunches his face up in distaste. "Thanks, I guess." He mutters, before quickly changing the subject, "So you said something about a bat cave? Since you care for me so much, does that mean you'll take pity on my soul and take me with you?" at this point, he would do anything to keep from having to listen to the blasting beats Sam kept popping out of what feels like nowhere.

"I don't know, Bucky. It might not be up to your sensibilities."

"Please don't make me beg." He states, staring up at your mock contemplation. He watches as the corners of your lips twitch ever so slightly.

"What will you do for me if I share?"

"I am sorely tempted to say anything, but I'm sure I will regret it if I do. What would you like me to do for you?" He says, his eyes pleading with you to go easy on him.

"Is there any chance of convincing you to read my penny romance to me?" "If it gets me out of this endless tirade of music, I will even act out all the kissing scenes for you. Just show me the way, dollface."

"Well, if you are offering, I definitely can't say no to watching your performance, Mr. Barnes." You smile and turn toward the abandoned yoga studio in the back corner of the training area.

Bucky groans as he gets up from the floor. Unsure of whether or not he just wrote himself a death sentence by romance novel instead of by music.

#reader insert #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes imagine #reader #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #finleyjayne #fins reads #fins' fic recs #fins' recs #fins recs fics #fanfiction #fic reblog

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chemicalpink · 5 years

Text

Bonding(M)♡ Park Jimin

Pairing: Stripper!Jimin x Dom!Reader

Genre: Smutttt , Steamy(ish), Stripper!AU, College!AU

Summary: in which Jimin is known (and fawned over) for being a stripper, whereas the reader is secretly working as a dominatrix for both money and research on her psych major, until Jimin discovers her and asks her for a favour in return to not spreading her secret.

Word Count: almost 3k

Warnings: honestly… some dom on dom action and a bit of plot if you look closely

A/N: It started with a kinda ehhh plot, got lost in the middle, ended up being smut af, and the end… i just idk I kinda want to make a fluffy part 2 if you like this mess. Also, please bear with me, I just recently got into a fandom again after 5 years on hiatus. K love u. Oh! and requests are always open!

You can read Part II here!

“I heard that just by looking at you once, she has you all hardened” some guy gushed over to his friend in a quiet voice

“But nobody has really seen her face” another voice joined as you rushed by to get to your Behavioural Analysis class. 214...214….This was the third time you were late to class, work has just been too much lately, not that you were complaining, money-wise it was great, the word was getting around pretty fast, and research was just as good but sometimes you wondered if it was really worth the sweat dripping down your back as you ran from the bus station to get to class.

The door made a creaking noise and you flinched a little as you took a seat at the back of the room, next to a platinum-haired boy you, unfortunately, knew too well.

“Miss (Y/N)” the whole room seemed to turn to look at you as the professor acknowledge your presence and you felt your heart skip a beat, anticipating the worst “Its the third time this week that you try to sneak into my lecture” you wouldn’t normally care about some man’s piercing eyes towards you, it was actually a part of your job to step over that type of confidence, but this was just… not your stage, you turned to look down, his gaze somehow becoming overpowering

“I overslept. My apologies” a stifled giggle made its way from your left side and you felt the sudden urge to roll your eyes at who it belonged to… Park Jimin. It’s not that you hated him. You just hated the fact that of all places, you had to coexist with him in the same class, same campus, the same era in time.

You really weren’t sure what evil you had done that the universe just seemed to get you back ten times stronger. Having to share a classroom with Jimin was bad enough already, he seemed to make your inside bubble every time he talked, but when the professor asked for you and him to be involved in a differential, it just had to be a payback for always arriving late. You were 99% sure at any time you would implode. The case was pretty simple tho, Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Which seemed to fit perfectly to your classmate, so you thought about playing your cards in front of everyone, maybe if you were that someone that just shook their little brains, they would finally comprehend they were praising an egocentric little bitch.

You could feel Jimin’s eyes waiting for you expectantly as soon as the teacher called out your name “Well NPD would pretty much sum it all up” and there it was, the same stifled giggle from before

“Childhood trauma would also do it, Y/N” his tone was teasing you, and you knew better than to get involved but it was just not your day, your whole body turned towards him and a teasing smiled crept its way to your face

“I thought you would know better, Jimin” his eyes squinted at you “Exaggerated feelings of self-importance, an excessive need for admiration, and a lack of empathy toward other people… sounds a lot like you” the whole class seemed to quiet down as you said it. No one had ever dared to talk to THE Park Jimin that way… not with his status on campus.

“Should I keep going?” you felt your heart beating faster as you tried to keep up with his eyes-that were glued on you as he clicked his tongue and bowed his head as if asking you to proceed “Self-perception of being unique, superior, and associated with high-status people, Sense of entitlement to special treatment and to obedience from others-”

“And that would be it for today, you are dismissed” your eyes were still locked with Jimin’s as everyone gathered their things, you heart not slowing down and a boiling feeling within you, much to your surprise, Jimin was the first one to break eye contact, getting ready to stand up and leave the classroom, his right hand was already pushing the door open when he turned around to face you, still packing up your things.

“You know, Y/N, it's so brave of you to talk that way taking into account what you do for a living” you felt your heart rate quicken and you began to breathe rapidly. He-no. he couldn’t. Could he? No.

“I don’t know what you are talking about” “Sure you don’t” stop the overthinking Y/N. He doesn’t know. No one knows.

“So tell me… where should I pick you up if ...you know, I want your services” you could swear your heart stopped beating for a second just before the boiling sensation of rage took over and venomously spatted “I’m not like you” he chuckled

“Of course not, kitten. I dance for a living. You make people cum” something took over you as the last word left his mouth.

That side you didn’t use except for work, just happened to overdrive your body and within seconds you had THE Park Jimin pined against a wall. Yes, the same guy that was way too famous for making all the girls swoon over him during Friday nights after class, in a small strip club just outside campus. The Park Jimin was an overly famed dom and took pride in it.

And you- well you had your fair share of fame, but in a legend, almost mystic type of way. No one was supposed to know you were the famous dominatrix that attended every. single. need from the people visiting her small studio-like office, a few blocks away from where the boy danced his life away.

“So I guess its true then” he smiled that teasing smile of his, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your knees just a little bit weak “you do make any guy harden at your touch” you let your hand fall from his chest and quickly turned away as you tried to steady your breath

“Listen… no one can know about this” he smirked as his eyes somewhat darkened. You knew this look. You would have to pay the price of his silence

“Just tell me already how much its gonna cost, you perv” your tone was kind of desperate as you stole a glimpse of the classroom’s clock and realised that you were already late for work. “a hundred? I’ll get them by the end of the week”

“Actually” he paused as he looked at you as if something seemed funny to him about this whole situation “Social service will do this time. I’ll stop by your dorm tonight” you slowly felt whatever it was that possessed you a while ago. Rage? Indignation? Both? Whatever it meant that he would stop by your dorm, you weren’t having it.

“I have work tonight”

“So do I” so… there really was no way around it

“Listen, money is no problem Jimin”

“I know. But unless you’d like the whole campus to know who our beloved and mysterious dominatrix is… I’ll see you… let’s say, 2 am?” he bit his lip as he exited the room. Not giving you a chance to even consider manipulating him into getting your way, which was indeed, your speciality.

The thing was, between attending evening classes, late-night work, homework and maintaining a somewhat normal social life, Jimin stopping by to whatever he meant by ‘social service’ meant you’d have to cram your studying time.

Work went by pretty quickly. And you couldn’t help but keep on wondering what was waiting for you with Jimin. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of what you did for a living… but it would lose its spark if people knew who you were.

Your head started to ache as you started getting ready to leave. It was already 1:30 am, which meant that it would take you around 20 minutes to get to your dorm and hopefully have enough time to change out of the red kinky thigh-high leather boots your work required that day.

But boy were you one to get the times wrong.

As you entered the hall of the unit, your eyes fell on a very glittery Jimin sitting on the floor outside your studio, unbuttoned black shirt and phone in hand.

You walked up to him, exhaling loudly as an attempt to calm yourself down. You nudged his side with the tip of your boots. He looked up.

“I was about to call you, but then I realised that I didn’t have your number” great. so he was an asshole and also had lame pick up lines. You really wondered how exactly did he have so many girls falling for him

“And you’re not getting it” you opened the door and motioned for him to enter “Come on in, and may I ask, how exactly you got into the girl’s unit?”

“Ah… little Y/N. I can get any girl to do whatever it is that I please” you closed your eyes as another wave of pain hit you

“Yeah… you stay here. I’ll just go grab an aspirin” the dorm wasn’t big, as a matter of fact, your bed was just a few steps from the ‘living room’ where you left Jimin, but it did what it promised, let you crash.

You could have sworn you were gone less than a minute before encountering a semi-naked Jimin propped up on your bed, striking what he might have thought of as a sexy pose, patting the bed by his front side for you to sit “Okay. I’m done. Get out”

He sat up “No, wait. I really need this. And you too, Y/N” he smiled at you, but not that smirk you had been used to seeing, the smile that radiated confidence and ego but one that almost seemed friendly, one that made him look innocent, cute, dare you say it.

“A favour for a favour. As classmates that do kind of the same for a living” You grabbed the chair from your desk and sat in it, crossing your arms. Willing to put on a fight for as long as it benefited you

“Fine. Be quick”

“I’m just asking for a few minutes of your night, once a week. I need help with my show. And who knows? you might end up liking it” and there it was, every ounce of liking towards him that he built with the friendly smile and appealing to the sentiment of belonging to the same team. Gone

“No way”

“Fine. Then just be ready for your little secret to come out” Was it really worth it? He did say, just a few minutes every week. But the thought of having Jimin over, dancing and doing who know what in your dorm, was unbearable. Then again, he did say he needed it.

“Just a few minutes every week?”

“Yeah”

“Fine then stop by tomorrow. Same time” he smiled brightly at you “Now get lost. I need sleep”

What happened the next night though, nothing could have prepared you for it. Your assistant told you you had a new client coming, so as per usual, you were ready to test him out from simple to more complex things. You heard the door closing as some footsteps approached the bed behind you

“Just stay there. I’ll be with you in a second”

“God. those bunny ears really do suit you, Y/N” you could have sworn that your heart skipped a beat as you felt heat building up inside you, from rage. But this was somewhat to your advantage, he had just stepped in the lion’s den and had no idea

“I thought we agreed on meeting in my dorm” you said as you walked up to the bed, taking a seat behind him, with his back between your thighs

“I thought this might be more fun” of course he was more than excited to play this game, but you weren’t going to let him win.

Something flashed in his eyes. Something you have become very familiar with. Lust. And then Jimin pushes you against the wall, his fingers laced with yours, your back against the cold wall that held all of your work tools. And you saw what he was going for. Tying you up. But you were having none of it. In a matter of seconds, it was him pressed against the wall, his eyes reflecting the pink led lights from the room. You held tightly on his crotch as he tried to gain dominance over you, keeping him in his place. He just smirks.

You stay there for a moment, him locked under you, and the two of you stare at each other like you’re waiting for someone to make a move. A stalemate. And then you can’t tell who breaks it first, but somehow your lips collide in a hungry, urgent kiss. He kisses you deep, hungrily, desperately, like he wants to consume you whole. As you let your firm grip go, his touch is rough, his fingers grip so tight against your hip that it hurts, and the pain just spurs on the arousal beginning to pool in your belly.

Jimin bites your lower lip as he pulls away, his eyes scanning over your face. The room felt silent, steamy like the bright lights were invited you two to step it up, taunting you to take it forward. Your breath hisses in involuntarily as you look down at the bulge in his pants, your eyes flitting back up to Jimin’s face. He has a cocky calm look on his face, and it occurs to you that you had never expected Park Jimin the stripper to be like this.

For a moment you consider stopping, standing up and strolling out. This is a bad idea, the rational side of your brain chides. He’s… himself, the single-cell brained asshole that always sits beside you in class, the self-centred stripper Park Jimin, this is so wrong. But when you look into Jimin’s dark eyes and see the way he licks his lip while staring you up and down, the confidence that emanates from him. And all reason flies out of your head. You want him.

“C’mon spread those legs for me” he whispers to your ear and you can feel his hot breath tickling your neck. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what to say. Saying it without cockiness or nastiness but stating it firmly and calmly… sweet God.

But this is a game you are not allowing yourself to lose. The hand you have been keeping on his crotch rapidly makes its way into his pants, stroking him over his underwear. He lets out a suppressed grunt and the sound makes you smile.

Your smile widens when you stop stroking and grab him full in your hand and feel his thighs stiffen. Somehow his lips find their way to your neck, placing you in his previous stand, bot of your bottoms soon discarded, as he held both of your hands behind you, you felt a warmness near your pussy, followed by his voice.

“Tell me how much you want it”

“I don’t beg” everything that had gone thorough between you two in the past few minutes was better than anything you could have imagined. But the way he seemed so bothered by you not sticking to his dominant side’s orders just made you even wetter and weak in the knees.

And then Jimin slides inside of you.

The last thing you see before closing your eyes and succumbing into pure please was Jimin’s jaw clenching, his platinum hair all messed up. He takes it slow, likely on purpose, and you let out a cry at the feeling. His cock is thicker than what you’re used to, and it stretches you out. It’s been such a long time since you’ve had sex, and when you did have time in the past, it was always rushed. You, dominantly riding a guy until you had a quick, mildly satisfying orgasm. But it was never this – dominated, teased, sprawled under a man with plump lips and a silky smooth voice.

When he’s finally all the way inside of you, you release a long breath that you didn’t even know you’d been holding in. You hear Jimin let out a stuttering breath, the two of you are still for a moment, just feeling one another, you exchange silent glances to which you weren’t quite sure the meaning of and then Jimin starts to thrust.

He is fucking into you hard, his pace steady and at just the right speed to have you crying out his name while shutting your eyes and drawing your nails into his back for balance, or maybe just to somehow be able to feel him closer. The blood is rushing to your face and you’re slightly dizzy from the mask you have on but all you can feel is him, the loud slap of skin resonating between the four walls of the small room as he slams into you.

You can hear the vocalizations he makes with every thrust, grunts, growls, and then small soft mewls as he arches upwards and hits you at different angles. Each push of his cock leaves you a writhing mess beneath him. Just as you feel an unavoidable heat forming in the lower part of your belly, he stops. He completely stops. Steals one last glance at you, adding his signature smirk after pulling his pants on and leaves you there. All worked up against the wall, your mouth hanging open as he walks out. If you didn’t hate Park Jimin before, you were sure as hell you did now.

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