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#one of the best games ever made i'm not fucking kidding ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
heilos · 1 year
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YOU’RE TELLING ME I WAS TAKING A NAP WHEN GHOST TRICK GOT ANNOUNCED AS A PORT AND REMASTER TO MODERN CONSOLES??? WHAT THE FUCK THAT’S ONE OF MY FAVORITE GAMES OF ALL TIME I DIDN'T THINK THEY WOULD DO ANYTHING WITH IT EVER AGAIN ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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bakumu-archive · 3 years
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enjoy the view
kinktober 2021 day 23 - hate fucking
oikawa tooru x fem! reader
wc: 2.4k
summary: when your brother hajime invites you over you didn't realize that oikawa would be there but a work emergency has haji leaving you alone with the man you hate most in the world. Will you be able to ignore his irritating presence?
cw: SMUT (sub!reader, hate fucking, degredation (of both), biting, fingering, edging, a little drool), reader has past relationship with kageyama
a/n: this was sooo much fun to write. oikawa is so great for writing banter i swear
<< back to my kinktober masterlist
minors do not interact. this work contains mature themes and if you continue reading you have agreed you are willing to see such content
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You can't say how long you've hated Oikawa Tooru, but it's been that way for as long as you can remember. His stupid attitude, his ego, his ugly hair, and his annoying fangirls that always followed him around. It made you sick. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, since it's easy to ignore people you hate by pretending they don't exist. But not this time.
Oikawa is your brother's best friend.
How you were cursed to deal with Oikawa you never knew; maybe you were an awful person in your last life and this is your punishment. Seeing him almost every day since you were a kid only made your hatred grow. And that's not even counting all the family vacations, birthday parties, and sleepovers that you have had to endure with him.
You truly could not escape him.
Until you caught your break: he went overseas leaving you to your blissful existence without him. Until he just had to come back to visit your brother.
How were you supposed to know that Haji invited you both over? If you did, you would have turned him down, but instead, here you are, sitting on his couch as far from Oikawa as possible.
“Can’t you guys just pretend to like each other? Just for a day?” Hajime asks, clearly tired of the silence encasing the room ever since the three of you sat down.
“I don't know what you’re talking about Iwa-can, Y/N is the one who has always hated me.”
You let out a puff of air; of course he would say that, placing the blame anywhere that isn’t himself.
A ding rings out through the room and Hajime looks at his phone. “Oh shit, I have to run to work really fast, I forgot to fill out some paperwork. Shit.”
He hurries around, grabbing a jacket and putting on his shoes before turning to the two of you sitting in shock in his living room. “I'll be back in 30 minutes. Please don't kill each other while I'm gone.”
The sound of the door closing echos loudly in your ears. Your brother got up and left before you even had time to process what was happening, and now you're alone in his apartment with his best friend and the person you just happen to hate the most in the world.
You can feel the weight of his analytical eyes burning into you and it makes you boil with hatred. Why did Hajime have to choose this piece of trash as his best friend and then force you to spend time with him?
You stand with a huff, stomping your way to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.
How dare Hajime leave you alone with this petulant child. Even now, you can hear him giggling at something on his phone, probably another concubine throwing themselves at him.
He's so childish, playing games with these people’s hearts. It makes you sick. If he can be childish, so can you.
“Hey Oikawa, do you want a glass of water?” you call out to him with your sweetest voice.
You can hear his ego bloom from his chest as he falls into your trap, “Aww, is little Y/N finally warming up to me?” The annoying, slithery tone of his voice grates your nerves, but you just need to wait. “I’d love a glass of wa—"
“Get it yourself then,” you interrupt, smiling to yourself, enjoying this act a little too much.
He lets out a malicious laugh, and you hear the stomp of his irate footsteps as he gets closer to the kitchen but you can't help but snort in laughter.
His eyes are dark as he walks up to you, a little too close to your liking, and forces you to take a step back. The counter top digs into your lower back as he cages you in, his hands resting on the countertop on either side of you while his face comes level with yours.
“I'm sorry, what did you just say?” he snarls, his face contorting infuriatingly.
You don't back away from him when he moves closer this time, as he waits for you to respond.
“I said," your reply shortly, head tilting to the side, "get it your fucking self, asshole.”
You watch his nostrils flare as he grinds his teeth, his jaw ticking to the side.
He's so close, so annoyingly close. His breath fans across your face when his lips part, and you can smell his expensive cologne.
His eyes are half-lidded as he cocks an eyebrow at you, tilting his head to the side so his annoying hair falls over his face.
Your heart pounds in your chest as Oikawa's gaze flicks between your lips and your eyes; his face slowly starting to move closer to yours, until his lips are a hair's width away from your own, and your breath hitches.
You don't think as your body erases the space, your lips crashing into his for just a moment before you pull away, marveling at the tingle left on your lips.
You hear a growl rumble through him before he kisses you again. His lips move with a fire driving them, all of the pent up anger inside you both flowing into your kiss.
Your fingers thread into his hair, yanking on his roots, causing him to gasp into you.
You hate this. You hate that you like his touch. Hate the way he grips your hips and pulls your body into his with enough strength to knock the breath from you. Hate the way his tongue flicks against yours with practiced precision. And you definitely hate the way he thinks he has the upper hand.
You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, rolling it between your teeth before you bite down on it.
He winces and pulls away, looking at you with frenzied eyes, “Ow, you bitch.”
Your hands pull his hair and his eyes almost flutter at the pain as you pull him closer. “Shut the fuck up,” you sneer, kissing him again before he has the chance to respond.
His kiss is greedy, draining your body of all thoughts as his tongue rolls against yours and his hands move across your body. They pull you with a bruising grip and push you away with soft soothing touches. The difference leaves your mind racing, wondering if you're actually enjoying this.
One of his hands wraps around your neck, holding you in place so that he can shove his other hand into your pants. His fingers brush against your swollen clit and you try to suppress your moan.
“Just what I fucking thought, you’re soaked.” The snarl in his voice doesn't fool you as you see pride shine in his eyes.
“Fuck off, you act like your dick isn’t throbbing in your pants right now.”
You felt how hard he was when kissing you a moment ago and a brush of your fingertips over his pants only confirms it. Your touch is soft until you grab his cock through his pants. The groan he lets out is so lewd, it belongs in porn.
He pushes his hand farther into your pants until he can reach your cunt. His middle finger swirls around your hole until he thrusts one finger in you, quickly joined by another as he sets a quick pace.
You close your eyes so you don't have to watch him bring you closer and closer to your edge, because fuck, he sure as hell knows what he’s doing. His fingers curl inside you as he fingers you, almost yanking the pleasure from your body. Dangling you over the cliff's edge before throwing you back.
He removes his fingers just as you were about to orgasm, and you open your eyes in disgust, your lips curling, but just as you're about to give him an earful, your body is spun around. He pushes your chest down on the cool countertop, and you can feel your nipples pebble from the cold stone.
He grabs the waistband of your pants and underwear and pushes them down your legs before you can hear him unbuckle his own pants.
His hand rests on your back, stilling behind you and you roll your eyes, “What the fuck’s taking so—"
But you're cut off abruptly when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue.
“Am I not allowed to enjoy the view?” he laughs as he runs the velvety head of his cock against your dripping cunt.
You try to respond but he increases the pressure on your tongue, causing drool to pool against his fingers.
He slowly pushes into you, stretching you as his cock slowly buries itself inside your walls. The sting gives way to pleasure as the tip of his cock kisses that spongy spot inside you.
Oikawa slowly drags his cock from your wet heat and pushes back in, again and again. You hate that he feels so good, hate that he knows what he’s doing to your body and maybe you could enjoy it more if it wasn't for his fucking mouth.
“I never understood why you hated me so much,” his voice is full of malice as he moans behind you. Each thrust makes his voice more and more whiny. “You act like I stole the sun and pissed on your grave when I've never been anything but nice to you.”
You bite his fingers, causing his hips to stutter inside you. Of course he's a masochist.
You try to harden your voice so that he can't tell how on edge he's making you. “You're an annoying bitch, with your stupid fans and—” but you can’t even finish a sentence before he’s interrupting you with a harsher thrust that digs your body against the hard counter.
“Is that it?” He keeps a hard pace as he enunciates every word with a punishing thrust, “You were jealous my attention wasn't on you? Hmm?”
Your legs start to shake as he hammers into you. You hate him. You hate him. You try to express your thoughts but all that escapes your mouth are whimpers and babbles.
“Do you know what your brother would have done to me if he knew that every night I went home thinking about his sister's tight little cunt?”
Your cunt clenches on its own at his words, and your eyes flutter. You can't help but moan as he drags more pleasure from you while your walls are trying to hold him still.
“Oh, you like that?” His hand moves to your shoulder, grabbing and pulling your back into a beautiful arch as he whispers sinfully into your ear. “You like knowing that I've been jerking off to the thought of you for years?”
Your hands clench as you try to take in his words. Him jerking off to you? No way. He hates you and you hate him. That's how it is, that's how it always has been. But fuck, why does it make your chest warm?
“Hng, no!” you manage to gasp out.
“Oh yes, yes you do.”
A shiver runs down your body as he angles his hips to hit deeper inside you.
“You even went and dated Tobio-chan. Tell me, did he fill you this good? Did he make you cum on his cock like I'm about to?”
“I— I... No,” you pant, grabbing the edge of the counter top to try and steady yourself as his thrusts increase in speed.
He pushes your body back down on the counter as the drawl of his hips set your nerves on edge. The building pressure in your core sends your head spinning, and you can't believe that the person behind you is him. The annoying asshole that you’ve hated for years is the same one fucking you into oblivion right now.
He leans over your body, his lips sliding against the sensitive skin of your shoulder.
“Say my name and you can cum,” he says so sweetly, trying to trap your body into complying to his wishes.
“No. No, please. Just let me cum.” You feel his pace slow down slightly before your body yells, “Oikawa!”
“No, my other name.” The command is so absolute you feel yourself pulse around him again.
“Little bitch—” He slows his hips again, almost to a stand still and you can feel the feeling in your core starting to slip until you scream, “No!”
He picks up his pace again, grabbing your hips and holding you still as he drives into you again, “Then say my name.”
He pulls your hips aways from the counter so he can wrap an arm around your waist to put pressure on your clit. Delirious sinfully addictive pressure right where you needed him. You can't help it, you have to—
“Tooru!”
As soon as his name leaves your lips, you can feel him smile into your shoulder. He angles his hips again and as his fingers work over your clit, his cock hammers into you. Your legs start to shake as you feel the orgasm you've been trying to stave off come rushing full force.
You let your head fall forward as you gush around his cock, milking him for all he's worth as he continues to piston inside you. Whispers of your name leaving his lips only prolong your orgasm, and now you know why he wanted to call for him. It's twisted and repulsive, but the way the syllables roll off his tongue have you rocketing higher.
Your shuttering body pushes Oikawa over the edge. A long groan vibrates his body as his thrusts lose steam inside you, until his hips falter. He paints your walls with his cum as your walls flutter around him. His dick twitches inside you as both of you pant, coming down from the stars together.
Bonus:
You hear the door click open as you sit on the couch, in the exact same spot you were in before your brother left. But as soon as the door is open, Iwaizumi can sense that something is different.
He takes off his shoes as he scans his apartment. Sure, the both of you are sitting in the same spots but the air is different. He looks between the two of you for a good minute, and each time he looks back at Oikawa, his best friend's face becomes redder and redder.
Iwa walks up to Oikawa, narrowing his eyes and searching his face, until he suddenly steps back and gasps.
“Did you guys fuck?!”
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jbreenr · 3 years
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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader
Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.
Word count: 3k.
Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.
A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*
Wheel results (just attaching evidence):
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ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ
Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.
Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.
If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have. 
He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request. 
So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.
He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were. 
“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.
“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.
You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.
“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.
The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”
“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”
To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.
“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”
He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.
“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”
Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.
Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.
“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.
None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.
Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.
You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.
What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.
You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence. 
Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse. 
“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.
“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.
“Really? Which one have you read?”
And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.
“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.
The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.
“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.
You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”
She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.
The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.
“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”
Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen. 
“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone. 
Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through. 
“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”
Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.
“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”
As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.
“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”
Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen… 
Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to. 
His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.
“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.
Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.
“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.
Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.
“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing. 
“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours. 
Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss. 
“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”
You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.
Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.
“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.
“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”
Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”
With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.
Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.
“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.
He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”
His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then. 
“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”
“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.
Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.
Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.
His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.
Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.
Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.
There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.
Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him. 
“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”
His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.
Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.
The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.
And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.
With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.
A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.
“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.
A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. 
“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”
With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears. 
Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.
He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.
You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention. 
“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.
“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.
“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.
“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.
When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.
“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.
“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer. 
“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”
Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.
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lipstickbisous · 2 years
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girl, im heavenly thinking about college jock!steve having a bet on you woth friends but he falls in love and once you find out he spends day and night groveling, looking for a way to just apologize to you (cause your bffs are blocking the doors or any of the way he could contact you)
and after a lot of groveling you still don't believe him??? :
"please steve im fucking tired of your fucking games and lies. you can go back to your fucking boys, tell them you won the bet if that gets you off my fucking back"
and he's so pissed now cause how dare you think that you're still just a bet for him right ??? like he's basically walking up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders, looking angry as fuck ???
"you really think i would do all of this for another fucking bet when the first one cost my you ? you really think im kidding about my feelings ?"
and he's so offended BUT SO ARE YOU !! and it turns into rough sex with steve trying to fucking his feelings and honestly into you ?? like you're face down, ass up, taking his cock so deep you can see it in your belly.
"you think that's the cock of a man who's lying ? fucking you all stupid because nothing excites me more that having you brainless under me ? you think that's the cock of a man who wouldn't be head over heels for you ? fucking you so good he doesn't ever want to fucking leave ? you think that this fat cock, my fat cock, doesn't love you ? all of you ? from your pretty pussy to that bratty mouth of your, passing by your smart head that gets all empty for me ? fuck doll if you think all that crap, imma have to fuck the truth real deep in you."
- 🧝🏾‍♀️ little elf girl
this is a woman who knows what i like. you all know i love the mixture of angst and smut and i love the dare/bet trope. like you would be so in love with him, so finding out he was only sticking with you just to amuse his friends really hit you right in the heart. but steve is head. over. heels. for you, and now he doesn't care who knows it. as long as you do.
and honestly, steve would start to hate your friends. he'd message them, talk to them at their dorms or in class, but they wouldn't let him see you once. and you best believe he's knocking on your door every night just begging you to open it because he loves you so much and he needs you to know it.
"look, doll, i just need to see your face and tell you this. it's not a bet anymore, i wanna be with you. you mean so much more to me than that, please, sweetheart."
and you won't take an ounce of it. if the only to fall asleep is to cover your ears with a pillow, then so be it. you're not falling for steve rogers again.
eventually, steve catches you in the library. he's skipped class before, but it was for hooking up with girls or hanging out with his friends, never for confessing his eternal love to someone like you. "steve! you're fucking stalking me now?"
and he'd tell you it all. from how the very first moment he saw, even before his friends dared him to ask you out, he was in love with you. how he loves the way you smile and laugh, how he loves the way you cry at almost every movie, or the way you find yourself reading out loud to no one (he likes to think it's him).
and you just stare up at him in shock. deep down, you believe it, but you convince yourself not to. "just leave me alone, steve."
later that night, because steve rogers doesn't give up, he knocks on your door again. just as you're getting ready for a date with a sweet boy that worked in the coffee shop downtown. maybe answering it this time will make him leave you alone for once.
wrong. "i tell you that i'm in love with you - and you go on a date?" he's more hurt than angry. he doesn't know how to react but he knows how he feels.
when you notice the pain in his eyes, you start to cower back. you realized that as angry and hurt he'd made you the past few weeks, you could never hurt him. suddenly, his eyes take a shade of rage. before you can say anything, he grabs your cheeks and kisses you.
"i'll do anything i can to prove it to you, doll. if it means fucking the shit out of you then so be it. but i'd think you'd like that anyway, wouldn't you?"
he's got his hand in your panties, roughly rubbing on your clit as he lies you down. fuck the date, you thought your in head. you felt bad for the boy you'd left behind, but not for long because all of a sudden, steve's shirtless and he's slipping off your dress.
no more than two minutes later, his cock is gliding deep into your stomach, and although you believe he loves you now, there's nothing loving about the way he's fucking you. "look at my cock stretching your little cunt. you think i'd do this if i was lying? look how hard i am, pretty girl, you think i'd be like this if i didn't love you? and i know you love me too, your pussy's basically screaming it."
and soon enough, you're screaming it too. "tell me how much you love me, doll, tell me how you love my cock fucking some sense into your head. never wanna leave this pussy, never wanna leave you. all you have to do is fucking believe me."
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beels-burger-babe · 3 years
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With You Always
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***So I really really really love this idea, but I'm going to tweak it just a little bit so rather than only seeing them in mirrors, MC can just always see them when the brothers aren't around. This one is going to take place after they return to the human realm. I'm also going to be using he/him pronouns for the crush that'll be mentioned. I figured since all the dateables in the game identify as male, it'd be a safe bet. Thank you so so much for this creative request @gender-less-lemon (also I freaking love your profile picture. Monster Camp/Prom is hilarious)***
Summary: An average day of high school with MC...and the seven pact manifestations that haunt their vision.
TW: Bullying You were awoken not by an alarm, or your guardian, or even some random noise from outside, but rather a phantom gnawing on your arm. With a groan, you blinked open your eyes and saw just your regular old room, with one minor difference; a spectral red bear was happily teething on your elbow. You chuckled and pet the manifestation, noting the brightly glowing symbol of gluttony resting in its stomach. "Okay, Beel," you mumbled to yourself as you dragged yourself out of bed, pushing the purple translucent calf sleeping on your stomach, in the process. "I hear you." Ever since you had returned to the human realm, you had been followed around by spectral manifestations of the seven pacts that you owned. By the looks of things, no one else could see them, and they only appeared when the connected sin was active or needed, but it helped you feel less alone. You missed the brothers more than you had anticipated. It was more than a little bit of a culture shock to go from being loved and spoiled every day to being the misfit in your high school. Speaking of which, you needed to get going if you weren't going to be late. As you rushed around our room frantically grabbing the things you needed to get ready, the calf-like manifestation of sloth sat on your bed mooing in complaint. You sent a glare over to it as you finished collecting your belongings. "Trust me, I rather stay home and sleep too, buddy. But I have to go." Grabbing some fruit on your way out the door, you just managed to make it to school on time. Now it was simply a matter of surviving the day.
In all honesty, you preferred RAD to high school. In RAD, the subjects were interesting and grasped your attention without any problems at all. You had friends, even outside of the brothers. Sure there were always demons that would talk down about the kid human that clung to the demon lords, but you had the brothers to protect you. It was nice.
Now that you were back in the human world, you had none of that. In fact, you were even more of a misfit than when you were before. The teenager that vanished for a year and came back weirder than before; that was you. At first, you couldn't get people to leave you alone, but once they realized you weren't going to give them answers they backed off. You would occasionally laugh or whisper to the manifestations, which would earn you some more than weird looks, but you didn't care. These weird little ghost-like creatures were one of the only things you had connecting you to the Devildom. They meant more to you than anything else. As you entered your classroom, you had to bite back a laugh at the sight of one of your classmates looking around in confusion as, unknown to them, a golden yellow crow flapped around their head and pecked at the shiny earrings they were wearing. You took your seat in the back of the classroom and watch in amusement as the crow continued pecking at the various belongings of students, causing subtle chaos and confusion. Leave it to Mammon to make your day even when he wasn't actually there. Your teacher walked in and sat down in his chair. "Alright, class. Today we're going to continue with our history presentations. Remember these were subjects of your choice, so I do hope that you can at least pretend to be interested," he sighed and pulled out a clipboard. "Looks like the next person presenting is...MC." You winced and looked down at your notes. The topic was definitely one you were confident in, but to present it in front of your class. What if no one liked it? What if people laughed? What if- You felt a nudge on your arm. You glanced over to see a dazzling blue peacock, straightening its long neck out high as it puffed out its chest. The pride manifestation gestured forward with its head and almost seemed to smile at you. You smiled gently as you felt warmth grow from his pact mark on your inner wrist and stood up beside the peacock. It cawed and began to strut forward, leading the way to the front of the class. The mental image of Lucifer doing the same almost caused you to burst out laughing. You finally turned to the class and held your head up proudly as you began to speak. "My presentation today will be on biblical demonology and the way it has evolved throughout the eons of its existence." It was the best presentation you had ever given in your life. Riding off of the high from history class, the day seemed to fly by. Before you knew it was time for lunch. The bear was back, this time just softly moaning it continued butting your back with its head in an attempt to get you to go to the cafeteria faster. With one particularly heard shove, you were sent stumbling forward, directly into the chest of someone. "I'm so sorry! I'm a total clutz. I just tripped, I hadn't meant to-" you cut yourself off as you looked up and noticed you were looking at your crush. Your jaw snapped shut as you felt your face suddenly become uncomfortably hot. He smiled and waved off the apology. "It's alright. Just an accident right?" Your face became even hotter as you noticed a bright pink rabbit jumping up and down happily behind him. "I- Uh...Ehm...Y-Yeah! Yeah, t-totally an accident. I'm seat so I should go find my hungry. I-I mean!" He chuckled and nodded. "No worries, I get what you're trying to say. Enjoy your seat, MC," he gave you a wink, causing you to squeak as he walked off. You glared down at the rabbit running happy circles around your feet and the red bear that was sulking guiltily in a corner. "I blame you two for this." With an embarrassed huff, you entered the cafeteria and found yourself instantly wanting to walk back out. Everyone was laughing and talking with one another in their friend groups at their tables. Some gossiped eagerly over a magazine. Others sat silently with one another while they gamed or read books. There was even a table where a group of theatre kids were drumming out a soundtrack beat on the table while singing their favourite
songs. You ducked your head down and grabbed a tray of food before moving to the lonely table in the back, doing your best to ignore the giant orange snake that slithered between the tables, occasionally hissing and tripping students. You tried not to think of how you could be just like those groups of laughing friends, if only you were still at RAD. Your heart ached as you thought about the brothers. Maybe you could call them tonight. You let out a heavy sigh as you stood up and went to leave. You had almost made it to the door when a familiar face stopped you. Standing just a couple inches taller than you, surrounded by their groupies, was your tormentor, Taylor. You weren't entirely sure why they hated you so much. You just knew that they did, and that it got even worse when you came back from the Devildom. Taylor smirked with their arms crossed over their chest. "Where do you think your going? You haven't come to say hello yet." You scoffed and tried to walk past them. "Leave me alone, Taylor. I'm not in the mood for this today," before you could get very far, you were harshly onto the floor, stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped and glared up at them. "What the fuck?!" The bully just sneered down at you. "You may not be in the mood for this, but I am. You know I heard about your weirdo presentation. Demons? Really? What are you, a satanist?" Their word choice was really ironic, for at that moment you noticed the large, white unicorn with flaming green hair and eyes appear behind them. The beast stomped its hooves and whinnied dangerously. You gulped nervously and looked up at Taylor. "Even if I was, it's not your business. I just find the topic interesting is all." You went to stand up, and therefore force the angry horse with a horn away from Taylor, but were stopped as they placed their foot on top of your chest. "I bet that's why you have all those weird tattoos, huh? What did you run away and join a cult for a year? Freak!" You could feel Satan's pact mark on the back of your neck grow hotter and hotter to the point that you were concerned the manifestation may be trying to summon him. Your eyes widen as you noticed it back up a few steps and point its horn at Taylor. You knew that the creatures normally could do small interactions with others, such as tripping or pushing, but you had never seen them attempt anything so violent. You couldn't just let it kill someone. "STOP!" The cafeteria fell quiet, but you weren't looking at them or even Taylor, you were looking at the unicorn. The manifestation neighed in frustration and jumped around, but obeyed your command. You slumped in relief. Looking back over to Taylor, you found them glaring down at you like you were nothing but a bug. They opened their mouth to degrade you even further when a teacher finally stepped forward. "What is happening here?" You walked over to the unicorn while Taylor fed the teacher a handful of lies. You leaned over to the manifestation and whispered under your breath. "Thank you for trying to protect me, but you can't hurt people. Just leave it be." The creature snorted and nuzzled your shoulder. In comparison to the hectic lunch hour, the rest of the day passed by with ease. In no time at all, you were back home in your room. You had just plopped onto your bed, when you heard a familiar ringtone. You smiled brightly and quickly grabbed your D.D.D. before immediately answering the phone. "Hello?" "Oh, you answered that quite quickly," you grinned at the surprise in Satan's tone. "I was just calling to-" "IS THAT MC?! GIMME!!!" You laughed as the sounds of Satan yelling and running from Mammon came through the other end. There was a yelp, a bang, and a victorious whoop before you could hear the device get picked up by someone. "'Hey MC! How was your day? I hope you didn't miss the great Mammon too badly. N-Not that I've missed you or anything just wanted to know how you're doin' is all." Belphie's purple calf climbed its way into your lap once more as you gently patted its head.
"I miss you too, Mammon. And today wasn't bad. I'd say it was pretty average overall." You could hear Satan growl in the background before there was a loud thud followed by a scream from Mammon. Satan took the phone back. "Just average you say? Nothing special?" You frowned and narrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "No, why?" To your right, the unicorn neighed softly and plopped down beside your bed. "Well, I could've sworn I felt our pact become triggered at some point today and...Well in all honesty I was concerned. We worry about you getting hurt without us there with you, MC." You couldn't help but smile softly as one by one each of the manifestations of your pacts made their way to your bed and laid down. "I know," you replied affectionately. "Though I'm never completely alone. So long as I have my pacts, you guys will always be with me." ***This was such an interesting concept to toy around with. I hope this wasn't too confusing and actually makes sense 😅😅 Thanks again for the amazing request @gender-less-lemon!***
Taglist @thegrimgrinningghost
@henry-and-the-seven-lords
@satans-beloved-riv
@cosmixbun
@sufzku
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atsukashii · 3 years
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❝brand new story❞ // r. matsuoka
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SYNOPSIS: those who are lucky figure out their calling in life when they're young, and unfortunately for you, the boy you love's passion is taking him to a different hemisphere
» CHARACTER PAIRING: rin matsuoka x fem!reader
» WORD COUNT: 2.9k
» GENRE: aged up characters, time-skip
» WARNINGS: sprinkle of swearing, pinch of angst, fluff
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If there was one thing you loved about living in Iwatobi, it's the fact that in the summer the stars seem so bright that they shine almost as bright as the sun. You’d been drawn to them since you were a child, and some random kid had been drawing them in the dirt, who had exploded into explanation when you’d asked him what he was drawing.
There was something oddly satisfying gazing upon them. Sure, the thought that what you may be looking at right that second could actually no longer exist pushed you to the urge of an existential crisis every now and again - so you chose not to focus on that.
Instead, just the thought that even in all that darkness, the ultimate void, there is still a semblance of light, and a lot of it is comforting.
And there’s no better way to see the stars whilst floating in your highschool pool.
“Are you fucking nuts?”
Your shocked exhale as your head dunking under the surface. Rapidly pushing your feet off the bottom, you break through and spit out the water that had slipped into your mouth.
As you cough the water from your lungs whilst wiping the water from your face, your eyes shift to the figure standing at the side of the pool. Dressed in sweats and a loose tank top that has the muscles of his torso peeking out from the sides, Rin looks at you with a familiar look.
As if you’ve officially lost your last remaining braincell.
Do you ever meet someone that shines so brightly that it physically hurts to look at sometimes? Who’s love radiates off them in waves when facing their passion. Someone who stands out amongst others like the damn north star to everything else. To you, that person was Rin Matsuoka, your best friend and sometimes bane of your existence.
Pulling out of your thoughts, you push the hair now clinging to your forehead like glue off your face and return his look with one of your own.
“No, I'm perfectly sane.”
“You’re trespassing.” He points out and you raise an eyebrow.
“I am a student of this establishment, and I deserve to be able to use their facilities, thank you very much.”
“The graduation certificate in one of your boxes at home that you got last week says otherwise.” he points out, quickly slipping out of his shoes and rolling up the pants of his sweats.
You both had officially graduated from high school last week. You had cried with Nagisa hard core after the ceremony, feeding off each other's hysterics. But it wasn’t until you had seen Gou that it had hit you, you had graduated.
And now, as you look at the big brother of one of your best friends, and the person who drives you crazy to god's end - as you see the confidence in his gaze… you know he’s made a choice for after school.
He’s going back to Australia.
As Rin sits on the edge of the pool letting his legs submerge under the surface, you slowly swim over to him. The tension that always seems to hug his shoulders finally loosens its grip, and as he tilts his head back - he almost looks peaceful. Too bad you know him better.
Folding your arms on the edge of the pool, you gaze up to the maroon haired male, taking your time to just appreciate him.
“You’re going back to Australia.” It’s not a question, because you already know the answer. It’s a fact, because deep down, you had known that Australia was his end game. Rin Matsuoka had a tendency to run from things, but to eventually come full circle and return to finish the job. And swimming professionally in Australia was no different. As if feeling your gaze, Rin opens one eye and looks down at you. There’s so much unsureness and insecurity in that single look alone, it has your heart aching inside your chest.
“Yeah,” The one word floats between you like a balloon, slowly growing bigger and bigger until it pops. You had known this was coming, you had expected it. But you hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.
“I thought so.” You reply, pushing yourself out of the pool and sitting next to him, once again on dry land.
“I’m not surprised.” Rin seems to be the one surprised though, if the raised eyebrows on his face are anything to go by.
“Really?”
“No, because I know you, Rin Matsuoka.” You look from the water to the man by your side, and try to swallow the lump of emotion that sticks itself tightly in your throat. SInce you had first met him in elementary school, you’d thought he was adorable, but now as an adult - he’s simply beautiful. Savagely so.
Not being able to look at the insecurity in his eyes, you instead lean back on your forearms and look back to the stars for comfort.
“I knew that you’d want to go back. You never leave anything incomplete. You chase risks, putting your very soul and being into your passion. So yeah, I knew all along.”
Seeming speechless, Rin looks up at the sky once more, as if - like you only moments ago - unable to look at the truth in your eyes. Because he knows deep down he has to go, even if it hurts him - and kills you. It’s where he’s meant to be.
Some people are lucky, finding their calling in their youth, others find it as adults, and others find it later on in life. Rin was one of the lucky ones. You? You weren’t sure what you wanted, other than the boy right next to you.
“Part of me wants to stay.” You give yourself the time frame of a single exaggerated blink on how to ask why without seeming ecstatic over the fact he feels like that at all.
So instead, you pull your knees to your chest and press your chin to them and ask, “Why would you?” Because everything he’d been dreaming about since he was a child is in Australia. Sure his friends are here, many of them going to college’s outside of Iwatobi, but still in the swimming world - so it's not like he won't run into them. Besides, it's the 21st century, and people don’t send messages by carrier pigeon anymore. But as you look at Rin, who’s eyes remain on the water now, his figure slumped over in what looks like defeat - something you’ve so rarely seen from him it's honestly shocking - you’re not sure what to think.
“Because of you.” Those ruby red eyes meet yours, and its as if the entire world around you holds its breath at that moment. The cicadas that summer brings fall eerily quiet and if you weren’t so focused on the person in front of you, you’d have thought it mirrored your heart which fell to a dead stop inside your chest.
Like the rewinding scratch of a record, your brain replays his words again and again and again. He wants to stay? Because of you?
“No.” Your brain agrees as the words come out before you can think them through. But you knew if you had hours to ponder on this decision, it wouldn’t change.
“What?” Rin fully turns his body to yours now, utterly perplexed at your choice. You shift to mirror him, wanting to face him completely for what you were about to say. Leaning into his space on your hands, you level Rin with a hard look, letting the conviction in your tone bleed out through your every pore.
“You cannot and will not stay here for me. You are going to go to Australia, and you’re not going to look back.” With every parting word, your heart painfully throbs against your ribcage as if begging you to stop. Because although you don’t want him to leave you, you know how much he wants this, and needs it because of who he is. And who are you to make him stay.
You had fake married Rin Matsuoka in kindergarten, and he had held onto the other heart of your heart ever since. He’d taken it with him when he went to Australia, and brought it back when he came home. And he’s about to take it and more with him again.
There was no doubt in your mind or your heart that Rin was the great love of your life, but what’s love if not putting someone else's needs before your own?
“Why?” He asks with a shaky breath, obviously not expecting you to react the way you have. So instead of bursting out the million and one reasons why he needs to go - starting with the fact it’s always been where he was going - you give him a soft smile.
“Because I love you too much to ever keep you here.” You don’t let yourself focus on anything other than his widened eyes as you gently cup his cheek with an unsteady hand.
“Because you love swimming more than anything on earth. It’s as much of a part of you as breathing Rin.” Your words ease into a gentle laugh that is more from your nerves than anything else.
“But so are you,” His gaze drops from your eyes and lands on the small space between you, as if it symbolises the distance about to be wedged between you in only a few short weeks.
But so are you, it rings in your head like church bells and you try to retain the grin that threatens to stretch widely across your mouth. How long have you waited to hear that? Months? Years? Does it hurt that he’s finally somewhat admitted what you’ve wanted for so long only weeks away from being in a completely different hemisphere? Yeah, that kind of sucks. But at least you know.
You raise your left hand to his face as well and gently raise his head so he’s looking back at you once again. In any other situation, you may have commented on the bright blush painted across his cheeks, but you’ll let it slide this once because it’s not the most important thing.
“I love you Rin.” Silver builds in the inner creases of his eyes, and you give him a blubbery smile of your own. “I love you, and that is not going to change in two days, two months, two years or two-hundred years. I love you with every fiber of my being and that is never changing.”
“Jesus christ,” he mutters, wiping away those tears as they finally crest, but he doesn’t move from your hands, instead leans into them.
“You’re going to Australia, you’re going to swim your heart out,” a sob breaks your sentence, and suddenly Rin’s hands are on your face, trying to stop the tears as you speak. “You’re going to do what you are born to do, and I'm going to be with you every step of the way.” There’s so much sureness and confidence bubbling inside your chest, you know he feels it. The fire that had been vacant from his gaze for the last few days flickers to life once more, and you know, he feels it too.
“In case you weren’t sure, I… I love you too, dumbass.” He laughs softly, and you find yourself giggling along with him, even though you’re still crying.
“Can you please stop crying so I can stop crying?” Rin sniffles and you finally wipe the slowly receding tears from your face that he had missed.
“Deal.” Rin pulls your wet frame against his, ignoring the fact that you are soaking wet and he’s not, and tucks you into his chest. For a quiet moment, you sit there just listening to the noises of the small town around you. The cicadas, the breeze, and the occasional car on the main road hidden from view. You know you’ll miss these moments in time to come, but for now, you lean into Rin and try to engrave everything about this moment into your memory so deep that every time you close your eyes, it's there.
“It’s not going to be easy you know,” Rin breathes against the crown of your head making you smile.
“Not sure if you’re aware, but there’s these things called cell phones? And the internet? I know modern technology may be more than you can handle in your old age but-” you’re sentence is broken from a squeal of laughter as Rin hurls you off his lap and back into the pool. Tacking a mouthful of water, you break the surface and look at the boy you love in front of you.
“You’re a little shit you know that?” To add fuel to the fire, you step forwards to grip his hands, and offer him a closed lip smile - right before you spit the water at him and yank him into the pool with you. If anyone else had ever done that to him, they’d probably be six feet under. But instead, as Rin’s head emerges from the water, his maroon hair plastered to his face, he just laughs. The happiness that radiates from him is so contagious, you find yourself grinning at the sight of him.
“Who do you think I got my attitude from Mr broody and snappy?” You tease, letting the man in question pull you into his arms once more and gently cup the back of your head.
“You got all my best traits obviously,” he jokes right before leaning down with a gentleness that is so different to his words, and presses his lips to yours. And running the risk of being cheesy and cliche, it’s everything you ever imagined it to be. Because like it's been your whole life, Rin Matsuoka feels like home.
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“You know pacing won’t make him show up any faster.” You pointedly choose to ignore your friend's words, and continue to pace whilst shooting him a blank look.
“Thank you Sousuke, for your observation. I will take your opinion into consideration.” You snip back instantly.
“No you won’t. Seriously Y/n, relax.” Within a millisecond he turns from annoying little brother attitude to concerned best friend and you finally turn to him fully, wringing your wrists in nerves.
Since Rin moved, you’d found yourself falling into a somewhat unexpected friendship with his even broodier and grumpier friend - who had surprised you in one of your first interactions by actually laughing at one of your shitty jokes. You had bonded over missing Rin and how much of an idiot he was as a kid, and had somehow become friends.
He was also the one however that gave you countless amounts of teasing when you’d call him complaining about missing Rin.
But not anymore, because Rin was coming home - for a while.
Sure, he was returning to try out for the japanese national team to represent the country at the Olympics, but who cares because he’s still coming home.
“What time is it again?” You ask, trying not to let your nerves take over your brain, but judging by the unimpressed look that Sousuke gives you, they already have.
“It’s been literally two minutes since you last asked.” He points out and you clench your fists, refraining from the urge to slug him in his arm.
“Cut me some slack,” you groan as you turn back to the arrival door of the international airport. You’d made Sousuke get here almost an hour early just to be safe so he was already grouchy with you since you’d rocked up at his place. You didn’t even know why you were nervous. You’d been lucky enough to visit Rin in Australia twice since he’s been gone, once for his birthday and the second for christmas. But that was almost a year ago, and since then you’d been living off facetime. It wasn’t the same.
A flash of red catches your eyes, and your whole body stills as Rin pulls through the doorway, cap pulled over his hair and a hoodie clutching his toned torso. You hear Sousuke say something, but you’re already running away from him.
At your burst of movement, Rin see’s you and the grin that covers his face as you run even faster. You want to say his name, to yell or scream in excitement, but instead you throw yourself into his arms.
You finally feel his chest thunder as he laughs and the feeling has you hugging his neck even tighter. He was here. Rin was finally here. You’re not sure how long you stay there, gripping onto his body like an infant, but Rin doesn’t try to move you. Instead, he drops his bag from his shoulder and moves his hands to support you as your legs wrap around his waist.
Feeling him pull back, you finally lean away and look up into those ruby eyes. The warmth that floods your chest resembles standing in sunshine after a week of rain.
“Hi.” You whisper so softly, you’re not sure if he can hear over the noise of the people around you. But he does, because his smile grows tenfold.
“Hey sweetheart.” is all he says and you’re crying. Not heavy sobs, but just gentle tears from being overwhelmed with emotion. “I’m home.” Rin whispers back before leaning down and claiming your lips in an eager kiss that would have knocked your legs out from under you, had you been standing. But instead he holds you up, standing steady and firm like a rock in a storm. Keeping you safe and sound.
He’s finally home.
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©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.
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peakyblindersxx · 3 years
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whiskey business - john x reader (part 3 of ?)
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gif by @michaelgreys but i cropped it cause god daMn 👀
read part one and two! | my masterlist
a/n: this one goes out to all my john bitches!! i know it's hard out here, we get no new content but this part is steamy as hell. its not over yet, though! i'm a sucker for happy endings, ok? i hope you all like it, i'm still working on requests as i go :) much love to @stxdyblr-2k for ghostwriting on this series, she has the most amazing ideas in the world 🖤
love, abi xxx
tagging: @datewithgianni
prompt: john's been ignoring you and you want to know why.
warnings: fluff, angst, nsfw!! smut, cocky john, just straight up porn at the end but can you blame me
John hadn't spoken a word in your direction for a week. Despite constantly seeing you glued to Ada's hip, he’d barely acknowledged you since the wedding. He didn’t even bother looking up. Instead his jaw tensed, taking longer inhales of smoke, constantly examining the pocket watch dangling from his right hip. You were the last person John wanted to see right now. He couldn’t get you out of his head, the flush of your cheeks as you had moaned for him imprinted in his memory. You were fucking picturesque writhing around in his lap, a mess for him, and only him. He’d never felt like this; never wanted someone so badly it hurt. Usually, he drowned what little emotions he had in the nearest bottle of whiskey. You, however, were igniting something inside him he’d never felt. Lust, yes, but it was more. A yearning, a need, to see you smile at his crap jokes for the rest of his fucking life. God, you were getting to him.
His coldness and distance towards you hadn't gone unnoticed. To John’s embarrassment, his brothers regularly referred to it as "a little tiff", usually when you were within earshot, as they loved embarrassing his brother. They were blissfully unaware of the full story, assuming his cockiness had put you off him. He sometimes wondered the same; even though you remained polite by greeting him despite the minimal nod he responded with, you seemed ashamed. John only hoped it wasn't because you were ashamed of him. The truth was, he couldn't get the intensity between the two of you off his mind. Whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of you, he remembered how pretty you looked begging for him, then the embarrassment of having to reject you out of family loyalty. You admitting you wanted to have sex with him, him getting fucked off at you because you were off your face, complicating everything. Yet, every night, he held your words close to him, trying to decipher them.
He knew his brothers wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand how tragic it was; they'd think it was funny that Ada's best friend wanted to fuck him. Either way, John would always rather put himself in the firing line of his brother's jokes than risk your reputation being blemished. He just couldn't look at you without a wave of guilt and sexual attraction flowing through his veins, causing his jaw to clench and his shoulders to stiffen, his suit jacket expertly covering strain on the crotch of his trousers.
A full week had passed since the wedding, of a man Tommy had recruited in an assassination effort. It was embarrassing how his family used money to attempt to push the trauma they created under the carpet. He knew he didn't have room to talk, but fuckin’ hell, a wedding? Maybe Tommy should've just not hired him to blow the brains out of his own father. Well, it was one way to get rid of the police commissioner who got too nosey, John guessed.
He had hoped that you were a passing phase of infatuation. He’d had many before; he’d been notorious around Birmingham for his conquests. Sure, it was possible he had just gotten overly excited and intoxicated around a beautiful girl. Yet, in the quiet moments of his life, in between his kids and business, his mind was only on you. You, straddling him in that booth, the way you grinned at him as he approached you at the wedding party. Sometimes when he was driving home, his mind would drift off thinking of the feeling of your figure pressed against him, the feel of your lips, your laugh, the sound of your heaving breaths against his ear. You haunted him the most at night, visions of you with his name on your lips in his silk sheets. You were his forbidden fruit, dangling barely out of reach.
***
John was at his desk, paperwork long abandoned in favour of whiskey and a cigar, lost in his own thoughts. The loud tapping of rain and the wind of the storm outside shook the windows, yet John felt somewhat at peace; a temporary peace, but he could unwind. Just his desk, the moonlight, the gas lamp illuminating his empty glass and the heavy English rain for company. He found far more joy in the simplicity of life than his brothers, who reeked of new money. He liked his things the way they were, it all worked, but he had to admit he was a sucker for a good suit. The kids were long in bed, the nanny to comfort their nightmares. It made him feel like a shit father, and he didn't want to be like his useless dad. He had started resenting the life Thomas was forcing him to live; the booze, the partying, the Tokyo, the fighting. It was wearing on him. He needed a break from everyone in this town, he reckoned.
However, a certain unexpected guest was always welcome to him. You had just drifted across his mind when a firm knock at the door caught his attention. He straightened his tie, leaving his legs outstretched and crossed on the dark oak desk, calling for the visitor to enter.
There you were. Dripping from head to toe, but still as beautiful as ever to him, despite your damp hair and slightly smudged makeup. You had caught him off guard, and in his surprise, he couldn't suppress the cheeky grin which spread across his face.
"Got caught in the storm, eh? I'll put the fire on and pour you a drink yeah? Warm you up." He slurred slightly, springing into action, lighting the fire and going to fill two glasses with whiskey, which you politely refused.
"I'm not drinking tonight, Mr. Shelby."
He decides he won't either. He tried to ignore your piercing gaze, motioning you to sit across his desk from him, reaching to put the whiskey in his drawer. "That's not like you. Where you headed, love? That lecture with Ada?"
"I came to see you."
He noted your firm tone, the flirty smile, the coy eye contact.
"What's the occasion?"
"You've been avoiding me." You told him bluntly, his cheeks reddening, eye contact breaking momentarily.
"Yeah, I know." He took a draw from his cigar, rolling the smoke from between his lips on the exhale. "M’sorry."
You watched him for a moment and he met your eyes, suddenly softened from his usual icey blue inquisitive stare. To shame, he looked so vulnerable right now. You could feel yourself falling for him again. This is what you hung around for, the fleeting glimpses of the authentic John Shelby. The lad you'd first giggled about in the girl's bathroom at lunch, barely knowing what sex was. Barely understanding power and politics. Unaware of who you'd both end up as.
"You're fucking soaked to the bone. Come on, I'll put your clothes to dry by the fire. And don't give me that look, I'll give you my coat to save your modesty, lass." He teased. You ignored the way his muscles flexed as he reached for his woolen jacket, some outrageously expensive tailored affair from some London boutique, his large rough hands brushing your fingers. "I'll turn around."
You grasped the coat, heading to the fireplace and warming up for a moment, checking that you were far from his line of sight. This was a dangerous game for you both. You wished he'd grab you, take you on his desk and finish what he started, but the way he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited indicated that he was restraining himself.
You'd rid yourself of your thin jacket, bought from the market stall last week, effortlessly trendy but an imitation of the pricey stuff Ada and the blinder wives and girlfriends you knew. You were jealous of their fur coats, they were always warm and glamorous looking even on the coldest winter night in Birmingham.
You glanced across the room to John. He was staring intently at the wall lost in thought, teeth gritted.
"John? Could you unzip me?" You asked, purposefully making your voice sound as neutral as possible, looking at him over your shoulder.
He paused, bringing his fingers to rub circles against his jaw. You caught a glimpse of white teeth and dimples as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye and you can't help but match his coy grin. He pushed himself off the desk and quickly closed the small distance towards you, his hand finding first your shoulder then the zip at the nape of your neck, your breath hitching as he pulled the zip to your waist. You could feel his eyes tracing the curvature of your spine and hips. You both hesitated for a moment, before John’s warm fingertips grazed your waist, lips pressing into your hair affectionately. His mouth found his way to your ear, cheekbone, jaw and then neck, encouraged by the way your left hand cradled his head as you pressed your body back into his and how your eyes drifted shut at his touch.
"Sweetheart, why did you come here?" He muttered into your ear, his words and casual affection causing your core to swell in response.
"Couldn't stop thinking about you. I've barely slept in a week, feel terrible. Then you've been ignoring me-"
"It isn't personal, Y/N. You know this isn’t how I want it to be." His hands found their way to your waist, gripping lightly at your hip bones, sending a shiver down your back.
"Well this is how it is, John. It's never going to be any different. So, what are you going to do about it?"
"What are you fucking on about, love?"
"I reckon that just once can't hurt, nobody would know but us. Then we can both move on with our lives..."
John hesitated, "What about Ada?" His head rested on your shoulder, the scent of your sweet perfume causing him to want you even more. Jesus, he was too far gone.
"We were so close the first night I got here and we didn't. No one caught on then, why would it be different now?"
He wanted to trust you so badly, it ached inside of him. He wanted to feel you around him, make you cum for him again and again, for you to be breathless and shaking under him. He wanted to give you everything he could, even if just once. But he couldn't.
"She's my sister. Family is everything; if I don't have them, I’ve got nothin’." He stated firmly, yet his palms lingered on your hips, the liquor destroying his perception of the distinction between friendly touching and actions that made you swallow deeply and pray for relief.
"You have me for tonight." You pulled away from him, ignoring the groan that escaped from his lips at the loss of contact. You locked your eyes with his blue ones and pushed the straps of your dress from your shoulders, allowing the damp material to pool around your feet, standing in front of the man you'd wanted for years. It was now or never.
He stayed silent, watching you, eyes not leaving yours, challenging you for a brief moment before his eyes flickered over your figure.
"Is it such a crime to want to fuck you?" You asked, the silk of your skimpy underwear forcing John to wipe the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he drank you in, mumbling profanities under his breath. Yet, despite the glances and his sudden frustration, you could tell you had him. His eyes were feral and hungry, daring you to keep pushing him. His shoulders were squared, he was ready for action. The crackling firelight illuminated you beautifully; you were irresistible to him.
"It's not a crime. Where'd you get this backbone from?" He asked, reaching for you but you stepped away, teasing him.
"University up north does sommet to a woman."
"You can fuck off or fuck me with that attitude."
"The latter if you behave yourself, Mr Shelby."
He smirked at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender, before wrapping his coat around your shoulders, pulling you towards him by the back of the collar. "You've got a mouth on you, love. You gonna put it to good use?"
"I was told months ago that you'd sort me out, John-" Your speech was interrupted by a small squealing giggle as he tugged at your hair lightly for mocking his voice, his eyes bright and crinkled at the edges due to his grin. "I'm disappointed with these delays, especially from the Shelby Company."
"Well, as the boss, I'll sort it for you, personally and immediately. Let me make it up to you, lass," John crooned, his lips meeting yours once again, fingers pushing your thighs apart, still clad in your black stockings and garter belt. "This is where we got up to last time, yes?"
"Yes Mr. Shelby, I believe so."
He pressed his lips and teeth against where your jaw met your neck, tracing his index and middle fingers over the silk of your underwear which covered your slit. You couldn’t help but lean into him, a slight hiss escaping your teeth.
"You like that, huh? You're fuckin’ soaked for me already, love," John muttered against your neck, lifting your left leg to hook around his waist, easily lifting you onto his desk, scattering loose papers and heavy accounting books onto the floor in his urgency to feel your bare skin on his. "They teach you how to push a bloke over the edge at that fancy university?"
"No, I figured that out on my own actually."
"Always knew you were bright," He smirked, quickly ridding you of your flimsy panties, the pads of his fingertips hot against your thighs. "Always going for the ones smarter than me, Tommy reckons it's not difficult."
"Your brother's chatting shit, he's not the one ‘bout to fuck me on his desk, yeah?" You shot back, opening your thighs to encourage him, your cunt exposed, cutting off John’s laugh. He couldn’t help but stare, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. "You're my favourite brother, always have been. If you tell Finn, I'll kill you," You teased.
"Come off it," John grunted in reply, unable to restrain pressing kisses to your inner thighs, your head tilting back, fingers desperately clutching at his hair. “Need t’get a proper taste of you, yeah? Look so fuckin’ sweet for me.” His mouth reached your core, slowly dipping his tongue into you, causing your mouth to fall open in ecstasy. God, his lips were even softer than they looked. His movements switched from light and teasing to purposeful and focused, his fingers curled and pumping inside you, tongue and thumb attacking your clit. He'd gotten on his knees, your legs wrapped around his neck as he groaned into your cunt, causing you to buck your hips wildly at the sensation, moans falling out of your mouth.
“Fuckin’ christ, John,” You swore, feeling yourself pulsate and twitch around his nimble fingers, crying out into the empty office building. You were getting so close, your hips jerking independently, chest heaving as you gasped for air. You were quickly getting overstimulated, you were so close. Before you could finish, John raised his head back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth, his hands moving from your cunt to your tits, finger tips tracing the outline of your nipples through your silk bra.
"If we get to do this once, I want to feel you finish on my cock, doll," John grunted in a hushed tone, pointedly moving his lips to your collarbone when you opened your mouth to argue back to him.
"Then I get to ride you." Your statement took him by surprise; most women he'd slept with seemed fairly passive in bed. Sure they enjoyed themselves, but they never took control. He could feel himself swell in response to your words. He'd never been put in this position; he was a stranger to it, but the idea was thrilling and wickedly seductive. Especially from someone who was the epitome of "girl-next-door" as they were growing up.
"Polly reckoned you'd be trouble since Ada told us you'd returned. Don't mind getting into trouble with you, though," He teased, his plump mouth dipping to your cleavage, unclasping your bra, tongue circling your hardening nipples.
"John, fuckin’ christ, need you to finish me off, yeah?" You begged, voice shaking, much to his amusement, his fingers re-entering you roughly. John pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, soothing your body from the sharp sensation, the slight pain exacerbating the pleasure arising from his mouth and fingers.
"I've barely started with you, and already you're begging for me to fuck you." He muttered into your skin, as he watched you writhe and lift your hips, reacting beautifully to the feelings he was reawakening within you.
"John, m’not fucking about, yeah? I need you," You whined, hand resting on his inner thigh, fingers grazing the fastenings across his groin, gazing up at him from your seat on his desk. John hated waiting for relief, he had very little patience, and almost immediately he gave in and collapsed into his large armchair, pulling you on top of him, letting you pin his wrists to the chair and grind against him as your mouth found his, then his neck, removing his waistcoat, shirt and tie, revealing his muscular chest. The bruising kisses you pressed to his skin left him breathless and needing more, helping you unbuckle his belt and push his suit trousers down his legs. You couldn’t help but take him into your hand, moving it up and down his sensitive shaft.
“Christ, you’re too fuckin’ good at this,” John groaned as you spit on your palm to better move your hand up and down his cock, teasing the sensitive tip with your fingers and tongue. He couldn’t help but watch you, keeping eye contact as you toyed with him, blue eyes heavy with pleasure and lust for more.
You angled your hips above him and he adjusted himself, using his hand to better push himself inside you. You yelped lightly as you adjusted to his girth, his mouth distracting you by pressing kisses on your shoulder and tangling his hands through your hair, trying to control his breaths as you adjusted to him, soft moans falling from your mouth, your tight cunt gripping his cock.
“S’fuckin’ perfect, like your pussy was made for me,” he groaned, breath growing heavier with the sensation of you grinding against him. Pushing his hips up into you, he couldn’t help but grab at your hip bones, grip burning into your skin, bouncing you on his cock, mouth slightly slack, groaning as he grasped at your flesh. You’d imagined hundreds of times how fucking irresistible John would look underneath you, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.
The thrill of having John Shelby with his trousers down in his office, quickly dissolving into a moaning and grunting mess with every rotation or twist of your hips, in the midst of a stormy night while the thunder echoed around the empty streets below was almost too much to take. You should be home right now, curled up in that empty unheated flat, behaving yourself. Even on a date or fucking someone else. But instead you'd gone to him and now you were riding him. You wanted the moment to last forever, right now everything felt so right, you knew when it was over the guilt would hit. But you couldn't avoid it, you could feel your legs start to shake.
“Look so god damn pretty ridin’ me, love. Makin’ me wanna cum inside you.” John growled, panting, struggling to keep pace as you moaned on top of him. Your fingers found his jawline and guided him to look up at you, craving to see how his face looked when he finally came undone. He reached between your legs, torturing your clit with his fingers while he slammed into you a few extra times, using up the rest of his energy. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge, crying out John’s name as you felt yourself release. Watching you whine his name was the last straw for him, spilling into you as your dripping cunt squeezed him, reveling in the image of you a mess for him.
***
You finally came back to your senses, catching your breath, John clutching you to his chest protectively for a minute or two, enjoying the tranquility and post-sex clarity. He checked his clock, sighing and lifting you from his lap to his desk, running a towel under the sink in the corner of his room and passing it to you to clean up between your legs with.
"Charming," You smirked, tired but satisfied. "No wonder the ladies always come back for more."
"Not you though, aye? One night only exclusive, this." He matched your playful tone, but his eyes were dull with exhaustion and he looked almost upset. He was probably just knackered after working all day and then going overtime just to please you.
"Make yourself useful and grab my clothes for me John-lad." You teased, thankfully changing the subject. He rolled his eyes in the waning firelight, locating the clothes the two of you had left scattered around the room. You quickly dressed, not caring how he watched you silently, as though trying to memorize the image of you. Your clothes were far drier than earlier, the last remaining remnants of damp clutching to the fibers and freezing you all over again. Yet before you could even comment, John's wool coat was wrapped back around your shoulders.
"Because you're cold, not because you look fuckable in it." He said pointedly, smirking slightly, the edges seeming artificial.
"Remind me not to fall madly in love with you. Won't be able to help myself if you keep talking like that, Mr. Shelby." You retorted sarcastically with a grin, earning a gentle dig to the ribs.
"It's Mr. Shelby if you're trying to fuck me. John is between friends and family, right?"
"Someone better inform Mr. Solomons of that distinction, then," You paused, "Mr. Shelby."
"Don't be a fucking cocktease." He scolded with a small grin, grabbing his car keys and hat from the door. "You want a lift then? Don't dick about being polite, Y/N, it's fucking midnight, just accept it."
"Since you asked so nicely."
"You know you've got worse since you've been at uni? Too fast for us lot now." He teased, half serious, as he led you to his car. He couldn't believe the beautiful woman in his passenger seat was the girl with pigtails who'd chase Ada around the canal with their girl gang for hours, the pretty teen who read for hours in his sister's bedroom, comparing notes together. No one was surprised you got a scholarship to university, despite your gender and class. You'd been incredibly lucky. Yet, you'd seen the world and had come back to Birmingham and picked him.
Shame you could only pick him once.
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moonshineboyz · 3 years
Text
Sweet Dare || Eric Sohn
Pairing: sub!Eric x dom!fem reader
Genre: Smut, college house party
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: mention of alcohol, dry hump, slight handjob, tiny bit of choking, unprotected sex
masterlist ♡
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“Truth or dare, Y/N/?” Your friend asked holding back a smug smile.
“Dare.” You didn't think much of it, already tired of being in that situation. Moreover, it was just a stupid game, it couldn't be something that bad... right?
“I dare you...” She thought tapping an index finger on her chin, looking around the circle of people sitting on the floor quietly waiting with anxious eyes. “… To sit on Eric’s lap. Like, kinda dry humping, you know?” Your eyes widened at that, a visible teasing smirk on her face now.
“What?” You scoffed. “No way I'm doing this. Not at all.” You shook your head, furrowed brows. There wasn't a minimal possibility in you doing such a thing with your friend.
You looked over at Eric, his eyes just as widened as yours, glued on the bottle in the center. Not that you thought he wasn't good looking or something of the sort, it's just that it felt weird, he was your friend after all and you couldn't think it'd be a good idea. Even though a little spark of curiosity ignited within you, but you decided to ignore.
“You're no fun.” Your friend faked a pout and giggled. “Okay, so... truth: would you sit on Eric's lap and dry hump him?” You just stared at her, not knowing why the hell she insisted in picking Eric out of all the other people in there. There was absolutely nothing between you two other than a friendship, and you were starting to worry that things would get awkward with him.
“Jesus fucking Christ, of course not.” You stated sternly rolling your eyes at the end. “Okay, next.” You quickly stretched out your arm to spin the bottle so the game could continue.
Not even waiting for the bottle to stop spinning, you got up on your feet and excused yourself saying that you needed to use the bathroom. You glared over at Eric and saw the lingering shock mixed with embarrassment in his face. You made eye contact with him for a millisecond and turned to the door, leaving the room that was filled with giggles once more.
As you closed the door behind you, your ears were welcomed again by the loud music coming from downstairs, questioning why you'd agreed on going to a house party. You made your way towards the bathroom down the hall, trying not to bump into some random drunk bodies and couples making out.
A sigh of relief left your lips as soon as you locked the door. Coming near the mirror, you noticed how your eyes were starting to get red due to the tiredness accumulated from the week. You needed to go home in that instant if you wanted to get some sleep and be able to get up early next morning. “Fuck projects on Saturdays.” You thought to yourself.
You turned on the faucet and wet your nape a bit in an attempt to refresh yourself. Looking back in the mirror while fixing some strands of your hair, a thought came back into your mind, what if you had accepted that dare? How would it had felt like? How Eric would feel like against you? You got surprised by your own mind, especially by the last question. You shook your head as if to clear your mind and get these weird thoughts away.
Getting out of the bathroom, you went straight into the kitchen, willing to have one last glass of juice or soda before going home, to which you thanked heavens for being able to find a second option to drink since you weren't having alcohol. You filled yourself a cup of orange juice, happy not to see many people in this part of the house, them being too focused on getting more drinks and some snacks, so you wouldn't have to engage in an unwanted small talk with any of them. As you were looking out the window, lost in your own thoughts about the project you had to do, a familiar voice called you.
“Y/N! Noona, I was looking for you!” You turned to see your pink haired friend coming your way. “I wanted to talk to you.”
You nodded signaling for him to continue. “Yeah? What is it?”
“Hmm, are you, perhaps... by any chance... mad at me?” Eric asked hesitantly, expression on his face telling you he was afraid of your answer.
“What? No! Why would I?” You chuckled lightly.
“Because of... that dare?” He more asked than answered you and you raised your brows. You slightly cursed at this topic being brought up in your mind again.
Waving your hands as in a “no” motion to calm his worries you said: “No, no, it's okay. It's not even you who dared me.” You offered a kind smile. “And you?” Eric tilted his head and looked at you a little puzzled, you chuckled again. “Are you mad at me? I mean, I'm sorry I said that in a rude way, I didn't mean to. It's just that it weirded me out and... you know, we're friends...”
“Yeah, I understand. And I'm not mad at you either.” You nodded at his words and looked out the window once more to avert his gaze, and in that, you missed the way his cheeks got rosy. “So... we're good?”
“Yeah, we're good.” You smiled up at him reassuringly. You finished your juice in one last gulp and placed the glass back on the counter top. “I think that's enough partying for me tonight.”
“You're leaving already?” Even though it was just a tiny bit, it was visible the sadness in his eyes.
“I'm getting sleepy and bored.” You shrugged. “How are you going home?”
“Actually, I was supposed to leave with Sunwoo and sleep at his place because we have training tomorrow. But I bet he's too busy making out with someone right now.” He let out a small airy laugh.
“Well, you can sleep at mine. I think there's still a pair of your clothes from the last sleepover we had.”
Eric looked at you and then at the floor, debating with himself whether or not he should take your offer. “Are you sure? I don't want to bother you I can-”
“It's alright, I also have to go to the campus in the morning so we can go together. Plus, my house is closer to campus than Sunwoo's.” He gave you a wide smile deciding to leave the party with you. “Have you drunk?” You watched as he slowly shook his head mumbling something about just having soda all night. “Good, so you're driving.” You said tossing him your car keys and walking to the front door, ready to leave the house.
“Wait, really?” He took hurried steps to get beside you, eyes ten times bigger as he asked. You giggled at his cuteness, fighting the urge to pinch his cheek.
“Just because I'm tired and you need to practice.”
“Wow, thank you, noona! You're the best!” Eric smiled bigger than ever.
“Yeah, yeah, just don't crash my car and don't try to kill us.” You rolled your eyes jokingly at him strongly nodding all excited. He was like a puppy.
Eric was always like that, following you around, giggly and energetic saying how nice he thought you were and how he liked to spend time with you. Sometimes you found he resembled a little kid, with sparkly eyes and talking in a rushed manner gesturing his hands. And when you laughed at anything he said, he'd open the biggest smile turning his eyes into crescent moons.
You had such a soft spot for him.
It was hard not to, actually. He constantly tried to show how much he cared for you, listening and supporting you when you needed it. Never wanting to bother or disappoint you in any way.
In the calm ride back to your house, you kept giving Eric some directions on where to turn, since he didn't know that neighborhood very well. When you got to a more known route and he didn't need more instructions, your mind began to wander. The thoughts of him being a sweet nice friend now giving space to the ones about how he could be so determined and focused. And damn, you just noticed how hot he looked when focused and serious like that.
You could tell by his stiff body that he was a little bit nervous in driving someone else's car, but you thought it just added to the hotness. His perfect side profile and sharp jaw line, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Your eyes traveled from his soft pinkish lips to his arms and the way they flexed as he grabbed the steering wheel, making you gulp at the sight. You quickly glanced from his chest to his thighs and turned your head to look at the road in front of you, cursing at how you were thinking about your dear friend.
Not much time later you arrived home and Eric parked your car perfectly, turning to you with an expecting expression waiting for some sort of feedback.
“You did great, really. Just need to remember to turn the headlights off.”
“Oh, right! Sorry.” He widened his eyes noticing the light reflecting ahead of the car and you chuckled.
As soon as you both stepped inside, you made your way to your own room, telling Eric he could take a shower first if he wanted and his mentioned pair of clothes was in the spare room. You started moving around grabbing the stuff needed for the project next morning, too distracted that you didn't even notice Eric anxiously standing at your door until he called you.
“Noona, I know you're tired but can we talk? I need to get this off my chest.” Worry and a tint of fear were written all over his face. You hummed and signaled him to take a seat on your bed, following him when he did. The boy closed his eyes taking in a deep breath. “Listen, I'm really sorry. It's just that I don't know what to do, I shouldn't but I can't stop thinking about it and it's driving me crazy-”
“About what exactly, Eric?” You cut him off, feeling anxious at him beating around the bush.
He dropped his head and closed his eyes shut, one hand intertwining fingers with the other, knuckles white from the strength he was applying. “Earlier. The dare. I wished y-... I-I just got curious ab- I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me.” He wanted to curl himself up out of embarrassment, waiting for you scold him.
But instead, your eyes grew bigger and your heart started racing. You had no idea he'd be thinking about this like you were and honestly, you found it interesting. With butterflies in your stomach, you touched his shoulder softly calling out his name saying you weren't mad, which made him look up at you but not raising his head, too afraid you'd get angry. “You want to try it?”
He sat up straight surprised at your question, avoiding your eyes. “N-no, you don't have to, I just needed to-”
“I'm asking if you want to. It's okay.” You gave his knee a gentle squeeze and it was like the air got knocked out of his lungs when he slightly nodded and said “yes” in a small voice. Cheeks immediately getting flushed, you smirked at that.
You pointed your finger, indicating Eric to sit a little further on the bed, leaning his back on the headboard and you wasted no time in straddling him. Your heart was pounding so much as you looked deep into his eyes, sensing the nervousness, so you leaned in closer and whispered in his ear for him to relax. Deciding that you needed to make him relax yourself, you planted a kiss on his jaw to which he inhaled deeply and you could see his skin already getting goosebumps, softening his body.
You ran your fingers through his soft pink locks and tugged lightly at it, to make him give you more access to the skin. Trailing open mouthed kisses down his neck you left a hickey and Eric gasped when he felt your tongue tracing the mark you just made, bucking up his hips. You felt him getting hard and started to move your hips in a circular motion, but in a languid rhythm, making him shudder with the increasing arousal, added to the way he'd been thinking about you all night since that stupid game. And the fact that he had you right there in his lap but still couldn't get satisfied made him groan in frustration, growing needier by the second.
“This needy already, baby?” A hearty chuckle left your lips. “You can touch me.” You whispered noticing how his hands were gripping the bedsheets and Eric immediately grabbed your hips, trying to pull you closer to his crotch.
“Noona~ hmm stop teasing,I-” He got cut off, breath hitching when you repositioned yourself to better align your already throbbing core to his hard cock. Grinding down onto him, Eric sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back a moan, but let out a small whimper.
“Don't hide your moans, baby, I want to hear you.” You lowered your face to suck on the sweet spot of his neck, causing him to moan and grab your hips harder. “That's better.” You smiled leaving wet kisses on his skin and raking his scalp, to which the boy whined. You applied more force to the friction, seeing him writhe underneath you and finding sinfully beautiful the way he furrowed his brows with eyes closed and breathed heavily, groaning in a low tone.
You looked at his lips, slightly swollen by the biting to hold his noises and you felt the urge to taste them. Both your hands went to each side of his jaw holding his face, you leaned in closer and let your lips brush over his, softly at first, finally clashing at them when he didn't pull away. You inhaled in deeply, feeling lightheaded with the new sensation.
Eric's hands timidly caressed your thighs, but grabbed the flesh strongly the moment you licked his bottom lip and caught it between your teeth, gently nibbling at it. Your tongue soon met his and you felt shockwaves run down your spine. The kiss felt like heaven but with a tint of something lustful and vicious, just like a sweet but strong wine. And you were more than willing to get drunk on it.
The make out was messy and sloppy, filled with heavy breaths and small whimpers. You never stopped moving your hips and by the way Eric was starting to shake, digging his nails into your skin, you guessed he was close. You thought of letting him come undone just like that, but decided on something better.
You pulled away, taking in at the blushed cheeks and dazed look on his face up close and hop out of the bed. His confused expression asking why you left him like that, right on the edge of his release.
“What? I'm giving you something better instead of letting you cum in your pants.” You chuckled and he blushed harder. “Now take your clothes off, baby.”
You watched his trembling hands slide his pants off of him together with the underwear and get rid of his shirt. You stared at his beautiful naked body laying there on your bed, patiently waiting for your next move. The tip of his dick was angry red, twitching and dripping precum onto his abdomen as you slowly unbuckled the belt of your high waisted shorts. His eyes were glued on you, hungrily scanning your body and cursing under his breath about how hot you were.
“N-noona, you're so beautiful.” Eric shifted in his place, wanting you to touch him again.
Staying only in your black and red bra, you walked up back to the bed and sat on Eric's thighs, lightly scratching his abs and making him shudder. You wrapped one hand around his cock and smeared the leaking precum with your thumb, gaining a gasp from him. You pumped him slowly but with a tight grip, gyrating your wrist. The other hand sneaked up to his neck, fingers closing around it putting just a small pressure.
“Will you be good to me?” He nodded. “Use your words, honey.” You purred, voice like satin and a faint smirk playing on your lips.
The boy gulped and you felt it against your palm. “I-I'll be good, noona, I promise.”
You smiled mischievously pumping his shaft for a few more seconds before standing on your knees to straddle him in a better position. Your cunt was aching to clench around something, wetter than you've ever been.
With one hand you held on Eric's shoulder and the other guided his cock to your entrance, rubbing the tip on your folds at first and circling your clit, making you both jolt a little due to the sensitivity. You played like that a bit more and sank onto him, feeling him stretching you out and let out a broken moan. “You feel so good, baby.”
You trailed your tongue on the side of his neck, taking in the saltiness of the thin layer of sweat that was starting to form on the skin and rotated your hips teasingly, he was stuffing you so good you rolled your eyes.
His knuckles turned white from the strong hold in your waist as if you were going to disappear. He thrust up, whining as he reached deeper inside you, your pussy so tight around him. Just by the way he started panting looking at you half lidded eyes, you knew he wasn't going to last long, and to be honest neither were you.
“Be good and stay still.” You said with lust dripping from your words like they were pure venom.
You lifted your hips just to sink back down onto Eric, setting a lazy rhythm just to last a little longer and enjoy the feeling of his cock massaging your inner walls.
“C-can I kiss you?” The boy asked in a husky voice, letting out a moan in the end and you couldn't say no. You pulled him closer by the back of his head crashing your lips together and kissing hard. He whimpered into the kiss when your nails raked his nape and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around his till he pulled away heavily breathing. “Please, can I touch you more?”
You smiled to yourself, seeing how eagerly your friend seemed to want you and that made you want to tease him a little more. “What's that? You like fucking your noona, hm?” Your hand caressed his flushed cheek, thumb tracing the outline of his lips. “Tell me, baby, you wanted this so much, didn't you? Have you thought about it?” He squirmed biting his bottom lip and shyly nodded.
“Noona, please, can I touch you?” Eric repeated his question, hands itching to travel up your body to touch your breasts but you shook your head, telling him to just keep his hands on your waist or he wouldn't get nothing at all. But he could kiss it though, to which he quickly started littering kisses all over your collarbones and chest, biting onto the soft skin.
The pace of your hips increased, bouncing on his cock and letting out soft moans and dirty praises. “What a good boy. You're so obedient, baby.” He was indeed being so good to you, but it was so hard to keep his hips in place or not to use his hands to explore your body. Your hand pulled his hair to make him look up, while the other went to wrap around his throat, making his jaw drop, eyes fluttering shut. “Think I should reward you more often. What do you think, would you like that?” You scratched his abdomen again, earning a husky 'please' from him.
You started riding him in a desperate rhythm making him go even deeper, nails digging into his shoulders, his dick hitting the right spot inside you each time your hips met, to which your vision blurred, finding hard to keep your eyes open. A knot was forming at the pit of your stomach and you could already feel your release at your fingertips.
Everything felt just too much for the poor boy, amazingly too much. He was so overwhelmed by the feeling of being swallowed by your warm wet cunt and the way you looked like a goddness while riding him so good, calling him baby was making him almost lose his sanity.
“Y/N ngh- noona... shit-” Eric cried out, your walls contracting so deliciously that he couldn't help but to spill himself to the very last drop inside you, cumming while he repeated your name as if it was the only thing he knew. You drank in the way he threw his head back rolling his eyes.
“Fuck, you look so cute when you cum, baby.” You tried to maintain a steady voice but it came out shaky by how his cock was twitching. Your body began to spasm, never stopping your erratic moves to chase your own climax, with hips stuttering.
All the tension built up in your entire body snapped like electricity spreading under the skin and you bit down onto the crook of Eric’s neck to muffle your moans when you came around him, clenching so much it made him arch his back. Huffing and puffing you sloppily undulated your hips to come down from your high, prolonging the feeling of tremors running through your body.
You collapsed resting your forehead on his shoulder trying to catch your breath and when you did, you slowly slid him out of you making him sigh and started to leave butterfly kisses on the boy’s neck where you had left marks earlier to which he chuckled.
“And you wanted to go home because you were tired.” He said jokingly and you blew air from your nose lifting your head to stare at him.
“And I was! But someone was needy.” You teased back. “Now guess we’re gonna be late in the morning.” Your finger pointed at the clock on the nightstand stating that was already past 1am.
Eric shrugged, looking up at you with lazy hooded eyes, a faint blush on the cheeks complimenting his slightly swollen lips and a little bit of hair sticking to his forehead. His skin was glowing. “I don’t mind, it’s already worth it.” You thought you saw a different spark into his eyes, different from the looks he gave you all night, this was a hungrier one.
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astridthevalkyrie · 3 years
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A Scene Popped Into My Head But Instead Of Writing A Whole AU I’m Just Going To Write That One Scene <3
---> Scene Capture Fics Masterlist
---> Today’s Feature: Arranged Marriage AU Levi Part 2!
---> Part 1
---> a/n: okay, now that i'm back home, i wouldn't expect a part 3. everything in this fic happened bar levi and everything he does lmao, so if you think reader seems too sensitive that's because i am and if you bully me you're homophobic jk but it's just a warning, ig, like tw major self indulgence. i wish i had a hot ass arranged husband, because this shit was a nightmare. anyways, happy reading!
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The problem was not the game. The problem was the version of the game.
You’ve played the simple version of this card game countless times, and while it had been a bit difficult to pick it up at first, you’d become fairly good at it, good enough to win rounds against your mother and her brothers, who had been playing the game decades before you were born.
That was why at the barbecue today, when your uncle innocently suggested that he and his brother play with you and Levi, you agreed. The teams would be you and the older brother versus Levi and the younger. The older brother was famously known for being far too competitive—his son had pat you on the shoulder and groaned, “good luck”—so you were a bit sour about these placements, but you’d been certain enough that you wouldn’t play poorly even if it had been a while.
But as soon as you’d sit down, the younger brother had suggested that you all play the double version, one that required far more strategy. The point of the original was to make pairs, but in this version, one couldn’t pick up a pair unless they made two pairs first. It required far too much forward thinking, and as you listened to these rules you suddenly regretted ever agreeing to this in the first place.
At first, you tried to say that since Levi hadn’t even played the original version before, it would be unfair to expect him to play this one. But Levi had, of course, told both your uncles that he understood the rules and they didn’t have to accommodate him by playing an easier game.
So now here you are, completely confused, with what feels like too many cards in your hand, completely lost. At your turn, you throw down the ace of clubs, winning the hand. “Good!” the younger brother encouraged. “Now remember, you have to win this second hand to take the pairs. It has to be you, not him. And you can’t win with another ace.”
Well, there goes your only guaranteed victory. The ace of hearts will have to wait. The problem is, all your other cards are number cards, not face cards, and they’re basically useless. None of them will guarantee you a victory. At the very least, you can try to let your teammate win the round, so he can play the next one.
Fuck, which cards should he have? You can’t remember. This was always the worst part of the original game for you, you could never keep track of what cards had been played and who had what. Deciding to waste a lower card, you throw your seven of spades, causing the older brother to groan loudly. You wince.
The younger brother throws his nine of spades, and your shoulders tense, only to relax when the older brother throws the queen. He could take this round.
And then Levi throws the trump card, a measly low five of hearts, and wins the round.
Your teeth grit, and you try not to feel resentment towards your husband. It’s not really his fault he takes to everything so fucking naturally. It’s also not his fault you have to hear about it from friends and family all the time either­—Levi makes the best cup of tea I’ve ever tasted! My kid didn’t understand this math concept until Levi explained it to her! Oh, Levi has such a nice sense of style, do you and he not go shopping together often?
Okay, so maybe you feel a slight bit of resentment that your husband is apparently fucking perfection. Because, come on, the difficult version of a card game that he hasn’t even played the easy version of? Which god created him, and which one thought it would be so fucking funny to pair him with you?
On his next move, Levi throws down the ace of spades, and takes all three pairs. You pretend not to notice the deepening scowl on your teammate’s face as Levi’s teammate victoriously cheers that’s it, Ackerman!
From across the backyard, your eyes lock with your sister’s, and you do your best to plead for help without being too obvious. She winces in sympathy, but she shakes her head a little, signaling that there’s nothing she can do.
Two rounds go, with your team winning one and their team winning one, until it comes down to who will take the next two pairs. It’s all or nothing now.
You’re third, and you can finally throw your ace of hearts down, which guarantees you this hand, at least. You expect your uncle to be happy, but instead he scowls and finally does what you suspect he’s wanted to do ever since you started playing, and that’s to snap at you.
“Why didn’t you play that earlier on? It would’ve given us the advantage! Now we know Levi has the king, and they’re going to take it. You need to think about this—”
“Yes, dear!” his wife cries out sarcastically from behind you, making you jump in your seat. “Don’t you know this is life or death, you have to think about it—”
You know she’s technically defending you, but her loud tone combined with the pressure of the game, especially the hard glare from your uncle across the table, is quickly overwhelming you, and you can feel tears threatening to build up in your eyes. Grabbing your glass of water, you down the drink completely, blinking rapidly. This is Repressing 101, it’s harder to cry when you’re drinking water, now if this game could just finish already—
“Come on,” the younger brother says, “it’s your turn!”
Right. Well, it doesn’t matter, because as had already been pointed out, Levi has the king of hearts. So you throw your nine of diamonds and wait for the loss.
The younger brother throws down a two of diamonds, grinning in the knowledge that his win is secured.
The older brother sourly slams down a four of clubs.
And then Levi throws down a six of spades.
You blink.
What?
Everyone stares at the plain six card for a solid three seconds. And then both your uncles explode.
The older brother actually whoops, raising his hand for you to high five as though he wasn’t just glaring daggers at you, while the younger one stares, horrified, at Levi.
“Why wouldn’t you put down your king of hearts?”
There’s a moment’s pause, and Levi shrugs. “Sorry. Forgot what I was supposed to do.”
Even as you weakly high five your uncle, you can’t tear your eyes away from your husband, because it doesn’t matter if everyone else actually believes the bullshit that he just said, you know exactly what happened.
Levi threw the game.
He gazes at you, tilting his head ever so slightly downwards and furrowing his brows as he pushes his own glass of water towards you, as though to ask if you’re okay.
You stare at him as the two brothers argue about a rematch or fairness or whatever the fuck. You don’t need the water. You don’t need anything right now.
Levi threw the game for you.
If you weren’t surrounded by family, you’d throw yourself at your husband and kiss him square on the lips. For throwing the game, for somehow knowing you were feeling overwhelmed, for prioritizing your comfort over his victory, which you’d been raised to believe would never happen. You don't think you've ever considered the word love when it comes to him. Would this be love?
Since you are surrounded and can’t make out with him in a flurry of thank yous, you simply reach under the table and place your hand over his, sliding your fingers between his warmer ones. Thank you. Levi’s expression doesn’t change, but the pads of his fingers close in on yours, making your heart clench at the clear meaning. You’re welcome.
“Rematch, rematch!” the younger brother is demanding above you, interrupting what you think is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you.
You slowly, reluctantly, break your gaze away from him to look at the family members who have never provided you any such comfort. “Okay, I’ll play again. But I want to be on Levi’s team.”
They both look confused, while Levi’s fingers curl tighter around yours. “But, he hasn’t played before, it wouldn’t be fair to the two of you.”
“Then you guys should be happy with it. Besides, even though he hasn’t played before, I think he matches both of your skill levels.”
From their expressions, you can tell they don’t particularly like this cocky idea that you've put forth, which means they've fallen into the little trap you've set for them. “What do you say, Levi?”
He lifts your hand up, to your surprise, and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I’m fine with that.”
Some of your cousins, who were onlooking, burst into loud oohs and giggles, chittering with excitement.
“Aww, he wants to play with her!”
“Wow, (F/N), you just wanted to be on your husband’s team, is that it?”
“That’s so cute, I don’t even care if you guys lose, I’m rooting for you.”
As the cards are shuffled and dealt, you look at Levi again, his warm hand not relinquishing yours under the table, and you bring it to your lap.
Yeah, you don’t care if you lose either.
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effervescentdragon · 3 years
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Finwean descendants as things me and my friends have said at one point or another
(Idk if this has already been done, but here, and its a bit long.)
Celebrimbor: I will either write out the whole of liver compensation mechanism or drown my liver in methanol, there is no middle ground.
Maedhros: He's like, sexy and scary. Sexy when he's in his doctors coat. Scary when he starts talking about post-mortem dissections like he's talking about winning a bag of gold. Whic is also kinda sexy. Also, I may not be as straight as I thought I was.
Aredhel, probs about Galadriel: Her imagined suffering makes my girl-parts tingle. What are you suffering from, bitch, your parents paid for you to spend a month in fucking Tuscany?!
Fëanor: If I figure out a way to intravenously give myself caffeine I will be a God. In fact- *starts muttering calculations*
Turgon: *grabs my chair and turns me around to start examining my neurological reflexes* *ignores me, then mutters* I think you may be dead.
Celegorm: *takes a baseball bat, climbes on a table and breaks a bird in cage chirping thing we bought for laughs* THE FUCKING BIRD WOULDNT SHUT UP SO I SHUT IT UP PERMANENTLY!!
Finrod: I will NOT tell you where I've hidden that abomination of a curtain! You all are peasants and have NO STYLE, IT LOOKED LIKE IT WAS MADE OUT OF VOMITED KIDNEY STONES!
Finarfin: *wakes from an impromptu nap on a textbook* OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO FEED THE FROG! *goes back to sleep* (he has no frog)
Galadriel: Not to be a bitch, but-
Aegnor: Every time you say that, we know you're definitely being a bitch.
Angrod: The BIGGEST bitch, in fact.
Fingon: I will let you put glitter in my hair and beard only if you promise to bring me the biggest bottle of your grandmas homemade shampoo there is, and an even bigger bottle of your grandpas schnapz.
Elrond: So you mean to tell me you're gonna choose? Why? Just bang them both, non-monogamy is a thing. The best thing ever to be honest.
Caranthir: Nope, I'm not playing cards with you assholes anymore. You *points to Curufin* keep cheating, you *points to Maedhros* are drunk, and you *points to Maglor* dont even know the rules of the game!
Curufin: Do you think if I tweak my stethoscope a little I can overhear their strategy through the door?
Idril: And then I told him "I dont need you to have this baby, it's my fucking baby, and I have inheritance, and a LOT of it!"
Maeglin: I am going off to fucking Russia and everything there will be fucking amazing and I will finally be appreciated as I should be! (when he came back after a year, spoilers - it wasn't)
Amras: You know what? Fuck this printer, and fuck all of you *takes the printer and throws it through a window, where it smashes on the ground*
Amrad: Well I aint cleaning that shit, brother. Also, I'm your ride home, and im going in 10 minutes, so chop-chop. *sips coffee*
Fingolfin: Ever since we got the third kid, I legit have no time for pop-culture anymore. The last thing I watched was 5 mintes of Guardians of the Galaxy porn parody, and then the baby started crying and I lost my will to live.
Lalwen: Is that the one you sent me over email?
Anaire: Yup :)
Lalwen: Damn that was good.
Anaire: *whispers* I'm sending you the Captain America one I found tonight. That one's even better.
Findis: Gods I'm just? So pretty?
Nerdanel: Could you please stop looking at yourself in the mirror and hold this fucking pipe so I can fix it before it bursts?
Gil-Galad: As the president of this club-
Celebrimbor: We're a commune.
Galadriel: Also who voted for you? I sure as fuck didn't. I voted for me.
Elrond: I love you, honey, but sit down. We're a democracy.
Celebrian: None of you understand. If I don't go and get drunk tonight, I won't be able to fake an illness tomorrow, and my mother wants me to meet the son of her friends so we can "hang out", and I have the ORL exam on Tuesday, and I dont care how much money that dude has, I'm not dating someone my mother thinks is appropriate! So fucking drink, I didnt bring this gin for you to look at it!
Maglor: You may think you're good at this. You aren't. I, on the other hand, am amazing at this. *deepthroats an icecream* No gag reflex, bitch. OH FUCK, BRAIN FREEZE!
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songmingisthighs · 3 years
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Hooked
introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii
ch. lxxxi - < 33
<< previous | masterlist | next >>
??? × reader, ateez × reader
A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?
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San and Wooyoung fought for a solid 3 minutes over who gets to have you on their laps before you smack them both and pulled a chair in between them.
So there you three were, out of class and straight into a PC bang. You admit that when San told you he was kidnapping you to go on a date you didn't expect him to have brought you to play computer games. But then Wooyoung crashed in and challenged San.
Literally.
You and San were both walking hand-in-hand towards the university's gate and suddenly Wooyoung came barrelling in like a wild block of cheese rolling down Cooper's Hill.
But you didn't mind. Not when you know how both of them together would mean more chaos and it's just more entertaining.
"Sannie," you called out to him, tugging on his sleeve. He momentarily averted his attention from the screen to you. "Yes, baby?" he smiled at you before focusing back on the screen. You pursed your lips at him, pouting whilst giving him your best puppy eyes, "I'm thirsty,"
San's eyebrows furrowed, "didn't you bought a venti sized latte before we came here?" he asked, sure that you had gotten the largest size of beverage before going to the PC Bang. You wrap your arms around his closest forearm as you rested your head on his shoulder, "Wooyoungie drank like three-fourth of it," you complained, glaring at your other boyfriend who smirked at the mention of his name.
"Sharing is caring, you know?" he defended himself. You scoffed and kicked his leg, "you should've gotten your own," you muttered at him.
Wooyoung giggled but slid his chair backwards, "okay, fine, we'll get you something to drink now," Wooyoung said, getting up and pulled San up and out of your grasp.
San whined in protest at the sudden intrusion of his gaming time, saying it was Wooyoung's fault and he didn't do anything. He immediately shut up though when Wooyoung mentioned that he saw the kid who had been beating his ass in the game near the cashier.
You could only chuckle at them both, staring dreamily whilst a warm, fluttering feeling bloomed in your stomach.
"Hey," a voice called behind you.
You looked back and you internally swallowed the lump that appeared in your throat.
There were two girls standing behind you, smirk adorning their faces. You recognize them as your batch's biggest pick me up girls and gossips, people would either go to them to get tea or they'd avoid them at all cost like the plague. You had a couple of classes with them the previous semester and you had one with them in the current semester. Seeing that they were from communications, you were quite glad. But due to the current inevitable truth spilt, you had just been actively avoiding them.
Awkwardly, you smiled at them both, hoping that they were just coming by to say hello. Sadly, there's a 99.9% chance of that not happening.
"Hi," you answered back to them.
"Funny meeting you here, never pegged you to be a gamer," one of them spoke out.
It was irritatingly creepy how they made each other look so similar. The outfits, the hairstyle and colour, the nails? Are they purposefully TRYING to look like twins?
You let out an awkward chuckle at them, "Not really, I didn't come here alone," you said, not really wanting to tell them who you came with, " I didn't know you both like to go to PC Bangs too," you added.
Both of them nodded their heads towards the direction of 5 guys, pushing one another as their eyes glued to the screens in front of them. "We don't go here on our own accords, we're here with the boys," one of them said.
Suddenly, the other one stepped forward and leaned in close to your face, making you slightly uncomfortable, "But I'm not surprised that you're here playing, though," she said.
At that, you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.
"How do you mean?" You asked.
Realizing you just caught her bait, she smirked wider. Her hand reached forward to pat you twice on the head, "I mean you're such a player, bet you like playing games, right? Or you perhaps like to hang around here, looking to rope in more boys into your STD dungeon?"
What she said wasn't even clever, yet they were both cackling as if they had just roasted Albert Einstein. That pissed you off more than the fact that they had just practically called you a whore.
Your jaw clenched tight when they didn't stop their laughter. You tried to hold it in, not wanting to have an outburst in a public space occupied mostly by people from your campus. But by God, shoving a CPU in their mouths seemed like a good idea.
Not being able to stand their laughter anymore, you push yourself up to stand before them. Their laughter died down slightly, noticing how your eyes burn with intensity, as if ready to pounce at them.
"Funny you should say that when that's what you're both doing," you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "What are you talking about?" one of them asked. "An Australopithecus would've understood what I meant quicker than these airheads," you muttered under your breath before continuing, "What was the point of coming up to me here anyways? Trying to prove that you're better than me by telling me that my relationship is a sham? You know what's a sham? Your hair colour, nose, lips, double eyelid, chin, and pretty sure if a door slam to your bodies, your boobs will pop like a fucking water balloon," you spoke in one breath.
Maybe it was the accumulated stress from having to deal with the judge-y shitheads in your class and literally everywhere around campus, or maybe it's just you wanting to channel your anger at something. Before you know it, you took menacing steps to them, cornering both girls against the table behind them.
You jab a finger at one of their chests, "You both act like you're the saints of the campus when fact is at least three fourth of us don't give even a tenth of a fuck for you both so you went on chasing, hanging out with boys because what was it that you said? Befriending girls is too much? We're too much drama? If so, then what are you both? You created at least 87% of the drama that you have ever been into. Did those boys even wanted you two around or did you two just latch onto them like fucking leeches? Call me a whore, call me a slut or whatever 'clever' thing you can come up with, but at least the people I'm with genuinely wants me and I didn't even have to throw myself at them like you two did. I still have my pride and dignity," You spat out at them.
Their eyes widened at your outburst. It was clear that they hadn't taken into account that there was a chance that you'd retaliate like that.
"Fucking parasites," you muttered as you turned your back on them and walked off to the bathroom to calm yourself down a bit, leaving the two girls flabbergasted with people, including their so-called guy friends, laughing and snickering at them.
As you were about to enter the bathroom, you felt hands pushing you inside and bodies piling inside the bathroom. When the sound of door locking was heard, you almost panicked, thinking that this might be a public attack that you'd hear on the news.
But you were so glad when you turned around and see your boyfriends. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to calm yourself down slightly before moving to smack their arms for scaring the shit out of you.
"What the fuck do you-" your protests were cut short when Wooyoung lunged to connect his lips with yours. You let out a squeal at the impact of his body paired with the impact of the sink behind you.
San moved himself behind you, hands clutching onto the edges of your skirt tightly, bunching them up to reveal your panties to the cold air of the bathroom.
"We heard your little outburst outside," San said as his lips latched onto the side of your neck. You let out a muffled 'what?' at him. Wooyoung's lips were preventing you from speaking much as his hands began to prevent you from thinking straight. The way they had magically manoeuvred themselves into your shirt and bra made your knees weak.
"Yeah, we heard everything. Woo had to hold me back from interfering to which I'm glad he did," he groaned loudly next to your ear as his hands move, they wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, "because if he hadn't, I wouldn't have seen this side of you and it's so damn sexy," he growled. You could feel him bucking his hips onto your ass and even with his jeans, you could feel how hard he was. It was a good thing that San was holding onto you so tightly or else you would've slumped so hard onto the floor.
Without any warning, San slipped a hand into your skirt and tugged your panties down to your knees. Before even fully comprehending the situation, both San and Wooyoung hand worked on their pants, relieving their hard cocks from their confines. Their lips must've been magic because you could've sworn that you didn't realize anything until you felt them pressing themselves to your entrance.
The tip of San's cock prodded against your back hole first, as if asking for permission. You moaned at the feeling, letting go of Wooyoung's lips to throw your head back against San's shoulder. San took it as a sign from you to continue. He slowly pushed himself in. With the lack of lubricant, you felt its slight sting.
Wooyoug noticed how you winced at the feeling of San entering your ass. Though the latter tried to distract you by peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck, it proved to not be enough. So Wooyoung reconnected both of your lips as he snuck a hand down to play with your clit.
You squirmed in both of their holds. The slight foreign discomfort combined with the pleasure Wooyoung's fingers gave you elicit a rather new feeling.
It didn't take long for San to be fully nestled in you. Though it would've been wise to get used to him first, you could see how Wooyoung eyed his fingers, wanting nothing more than to slip himself in you.
Chuckling slightly, you took ahold of his working hand, "Woo, I need you in me now," you told him. He looked at you with eyes slightly wide, "You sure? Don't you wanna take a bit more time?" he asked. It was honestly adorable how concerned he was about you even in such an intimate position.
Not saying anything, you pulled him closer to you by his shirt, effectively sandwiching yourself between the two best friends.
"When it comes to any one of you, I can't wait anymore," you said, teeth tugging against his earlobe.
At that, Wooyoung exhaled shakily. You got what you wanted when he suddenly lifted your left leg up to his waist and began entering you slowly.
With one side already filled, you felt extremely full. It wasn't too much for you, but it sure does make you felt like you were about to burst.
"M-move," you told them both as your hands clenched onto Wooyoung's shirt.
They both started at a slow pace, trying to establish a rhythm to make sure that you felt as good as they were feeling. The last thing they wanted was for you to feel like something that they'd use to just merely get off.
The initial foreign feeling changed to pleasure quickly. When you felt both men fell into stable rhythms, you began moaning in pleasure. Their cocks were rubbing and prodding all the right places.
"God, I think I can feel San inside you, babe," Wooyoung groaned.
You unconsciously clenched hard at Wooyoung's words.
San took notice immediately. One of his eyebrows raised in surprise at the newfound information.
"Little slut here likes to be filled to the brim, doesn't she?" he chuckled darkly. One of his hands moved to wrap itself around on your neck. The slight pressure he put on it felt amazing when combined with the feeling both of them provided with their cocks.
Wooyoung's lips planted themselves onto your chest as he pulled your shirt lower. His teeth tugged at your skin, to which you were sure he wanted to leave marks on you.
"Can't answer us when you have two cocks in you huh, babe?" Wooyoung taunted, purposefully biting your nipple through your bra, making you gasp loudly.
Their speed increased significantly. You felt both of their hips hitting you in turns, their cocks also taking turns in filling you. When one slip out, the other slipped in. You were never left empty.
Your high was approaching quicker than anyone could expect. Between the work they did with their lips and their cocks stuffing you, you were actually surprised that you hadn't come any quicker.
"F-fuck I-I-I-" You stuttered out. You couldn't even finish your sentence as you suddenly came hard on them. Your thighs quivered and you clenched them hard to the point that they groaned at how tight you were being.
With your climax accomplished, the two became focused on chasing their own.
"F-first one to cum pays for today's gaming session," Wooyoung said, smirking to San as if he was taunting him.
Through the overstimulation, you managed to smack Wooyoung's shoulder. Albeit weakly. "A-are you- Ah! Are you seriously m-m-maki-ng bets in t-the middle of f-fucking?" you glared at him.
Your question was left unanswered as he only grinned deviilishly.
Feeling sneaky, you immediately slip your hands under his shirt to tweak at his nipples. During your times with him, you found out how his nipples became sensitive when he's about to cum and usually it wouldn't take much for him to cum when you play with his nipples.
His jaw hung open at the sudden feeling. His thrusts became sloppier. After one, two more tugs, you felt him unloading himself inside you. His hips lock in place and his cock twitched inside you. His warm load filling you, making you whine at the feeling.
San chuckled from behind you, "thanks baby," he said, pecking you softly on your cheek, making you giggle. "But now I need to cum in your pussy too,"
Before you could even prepare yourself, he had pulled out of you abruptly. He pushed Wooyoung out of your pussy so that he could bend you over the sink.
"I'm sorry baby, but I really need to cum," he said quickly before plunging himself into your pussy. You let out a yelp as your hands anchored yourself by the edges of the sink.
San drilled into you at an animalistic pace. You looked up the mirror to see San's eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing as his hips snap harshly against your ass.
Wooyoung's cum made it easier for him to move in and out of you. He even slipped out a couple of times.
You helped him chase his high by clenching your pussy around him. Soon enough, you felt a second load painting your walls. San's cum mixing with yours and Wooyoungs's.
The mixture leaked from your hole down to your thighs and even trickled down onto the floor. Some were caught by your panties but a lot of them fell to the floor, especially when San finally pulled out of you.
The three of you stood silently in the bathroom, trying to catch your breaths after the impromptu bathroom session.
San was the first one to catch his breath. He stuffed himself back into his pants and fixed his clothes. "I'll help (Y/N) clean herself up, you go and pay so we can get out," he said as he began to pull some tissues from the dispenser.
In the midst of fixing his own clothes, Wooyoung paused as he furrowed his eyebrows at San, "Why me?" he asked. San rolled his eyes at the question, "Because you said whoever came first had to pay and you did," he said as he leaned down to wipe the dripping cum from your pussy.
Wooyoung whined at that, "Not fair! (Y/N) made me cum! That shouldn't have counted!" You giggled at his accusation, "I mean, you shouldn't have made a bet when you're having sex with your girlfriend, but..." you trailed off.
Feeling defeated, Wooyoung groaned and pout, "Fine, I'll pay. But I better get a ton of kisses in return," he grumbled as he pointed at you.
You only rolled your eyes at him whilst wiggling your hips to help San put your panties back on.
"As if I don't already give you a lot,"
taglist :
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barbiegirldream · 3 years
Note
God the hypocrisy of mcc kills me. "It's not supposed to be competitive" then why they fuck is an entire subreddit obsessed with player stats? The second you introduce tiers and stat tracking, you start comparing people. When that happens, things get competitive. That's human nature.
People give Dream too much credit. "He singlehandedly made mcc competitive" Mate, no. It's never just one person.
Why is it fine if Wilbur goes on a rant every mcc, but the second Dream makes a negative comments it's toxic and he must be removed?
Also I am fucking tired of people speculating on the relationships between players. You don't truly know how they feel. Stop it. I'm sure they can sort it out themselves. They don't need others to stick thier noes into their business.
Yeah no exactly all of this. It is competitive and Dream works his ass off to rank highly like he does. Why do people think he like idk bought his way in? Everyone is so quick to try and discredit him but like mans is good at what he does and he’s never claimed to be the best, he just isn’t self deprecating. Which idk maybe it’s a Leo thing (I’m kidding) but I don’t think you get any humble points for tearing yourself down you just look sad 🤷‍♀️
Techno can memorize all the buildmart builds but Dream is too invested for doing the same exact thing???
Idk I’ve watched the older MCC’s they were competitive. So I don’t think it’s really gotten better or worse just more people are watching. And let’s not pretend Dream didn’t have anything to do with boosting the numbers of if not the event itself a bunch of the players in the event
Hell Philza even talked yesterday about how much his popularity like the second big wave after the baby zombie is attributed to the Dream SMP and Dream
And I like the toxicity. Where would we be without Wilbur ripping into ace race and Noxcrew making jabs at their players?
Again I’m very very sorry for H and angry at the people sending him hate but it’s just not Dream’s fault. It isn’t. Dream has never done anything but demand people don’t send hate. Which can’t be said for others who hate Dream and wish actual harm on him.
Like Dream enjoys MCC. He and Techno wanted to play together more than they ever wanted to play against each other. Dream wanted to be with Sylvee this game to get her a win for her birthday. Dream wanted to pay for MCC coins so people could get some every time they won as opposed to just once. (I think that’s what it was something about the coins tho)
Dream loves the game and he loves hanging out with his friends. It’s why he helps people train for all of the events and always hyped up his team mates. He’s not looking to win he’s looking to play a good game and if he wins that’s great. I think people who aren’t competitive don’t get that while a win is nice when you love a game like that you’re playing for the game.
So you wanna hate on people for not getting the spirit of MCC? Firstly don’t that’s weird it’s a video game but secondly it’s not gonna be Dream.
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doyouknowbtsswag · 3 years
Text
Discs|Tommyinnit|
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(Takes place as actual Minecraft)
Tommy adored listening to Music since he was younger because of his older brother, Wilbur. Tommy's childhood was something special to him. He had a loving family which consisted of a father and two older twins. His father better known as Philza Minecraft was the perfect father, he was protective of his children and made sure they weren't hurt. His older twins were almost like different people. Technoblade always had his guard up and never really shown his emotional side except when he needed to, which never really happened. Techno also loved Greek Mythology and could quote almost every story by heart. Wilbur was more into making songs and singing he never really enjoyed violence, so he would play on his guitar while Techno trained.
Aside from his family life he had two best friends which were just as important. Tubbo was his right-hand man and was the first person to talk to him. His other best friend, Y/n was the person who he could always lean on and wasn't afraid to show his raw emotions. Sure he wanted to show his tuff side but the day you saw him cry was the time Tommy realized he could rely on you the most. Don't get me wrong he could rely on Tubbo as well but he made sure to put on a tough act for the boy because of his family life.
Tubbo's family was not the best, his father would always yell and neglect him, let's not leave out the fact that he's a drunk. His father always likes that but after his mom died his dad was heartbroken and it affected him he didn't pay attention to how his son felt. Being 6 years old and his mother passing away Tubbo didn't have the best childhood. So Tommy made sure Tubbo could lean on him.
Tommy was certainly the ring leader of the gang. He always suggested pranks and decided on games to play. Tommy wasn't happy he was younger than Tubbo but was happy he was older than Y/n. He always felt the need to protect you with every strength he could muster. His favorite game showed that. They played a game many kids played, the Knight, Princess, and the villain. Of course, Tommy was the knight and you were the princess tubbo would be the villain but sometimes Wilbur would play with them. Wilbur being 11 towered over them and was much stronger than the little kids which would make it 10 times more fun.
On his 7th birthday, he had a small party nothing too big, just his family, you and Tubbo. Tubbo couldn't get him much so he made Tommy a bandana. Even though Tubbo felt bad he couldn't give Tommy anything grand Tommy appreciated the bandana and put it around his neck showing Tubbo he liked it. Wilbur, Techno, and Phil gave him a copy of the family photo. It was rare to be able to take a photo so getting a copy of one made it just as great of a gift. Then the final gift was from you. You knew he loved music so you tried to get at least one rare Disc, but you managed to get two.
He stared at the Discs in amazement quickly running to the old jukebox his father owned. He put in the disc Cat. He smiled at the sound of the music, let's just say it was his favorite birthday gift he ever got. He hugged you which made you blush but you hugged back smiling. The others were awed at the sight. Wilbur managed to take a quick picture and made a mental note to get it printed out. It cost a lot but the now 12-year-old would do anything for his little brother.
A few months later Tommy woke up to arguing between his brothers and father. He silently stepped down the stairs making sure to go as slow as possible.
"What is up with you lately dad! All you do is stay in your room! You left us to take care of Tommy ever since you got that stupid letter a few months ago! Tommy hasn't noticed because of us!" Techno whisper yelled trying not to wake up Tommy which was a little too late.
"Not only that but you try to redeem yourself by giving us small gifts! Sure I appreciate it but I know why you're doing it! You don't want anyone noticing you've been acting suspicious lately" Wilbur crossed his arms.
"Keep it down you're gonna wake your brother" Phil whispered trying to stall the sudden outburst by the twins.
Tommy ran upstairs quietly putting clothes on to run to your house. He climbed out his window carefully. He would occasionally climb out his window if he was grounded to walk to Tubbo's house or your house. Right now he was on the way to yours.
It took him 10 minutes to get to your house. He grabbed a small pebble and threw it at your window. He threw 2 more before you opened the window looking down at the boy.
"Tommy what are doing here," I said watching the boy climb up to my window. He looked upset. Sitting in my bed.
"They're fighting again..."
"Whos fighting?" I asked sitting next to him.
Tommy was looking down tears streaming his face.
"My brothers and dad" He whispered. "It happened last week too but it wasn't that bad but they've been fighting more recently and I don't like it" The 7-year-old sniffled.
"Do you know what they were arguing about?" I asked placing my hands gently on his.
"My dad has been acting differently apparently" He sighed wiping his tears " I didn't notice but apparently it's so obvious to Techno and Wilbur"
"Maybe your dad is working on something really important," I said not knowing how to fully answer.
"Probably" He muttered
"Hey, I know how to cheer you up!" I said running over to one of my chests.
I looked through a few chests trying to find a music disc to play for Tommy. When I finally found it I ran to the Jukebox and put it in the slot. The disc played Chirp throughout the room. I look over and saw Tommy smiling just a bit.
"How do you have so many Discs," Tommy asked standing up walking to the Jukebox.
"My grandpa had a bunch before he died, he gave them all to me because when I was younger all we did was listen to the discs" I smiled at the memory.
"So why did you give Cat and Mellohi to me?" He asked
"Because your my favorite person in the world" I looked at him smiling I could see his face turn red which made me giggle.
"You're my favorite person in the world too," Tommy said pulling me into a hug to which I hugged him back.
"Thank you..."
"Your welcome Toms"
He pulled away from the hug and looked out the window seeing the sun slowly rise.
"Oh crap, I have to go before I get caught" He panicked running to the window.
"wait!" I ran and grabbed Chirp from the Jukebox running to the window hanging me the disc. "Take it"
"But I thought-"
"Let that disc remind you of me if you ever need to let out your feelings"
"Thank you" He smiled kissing my cheek then climbing down the house.
"Thomas!" I shouted but still smiling.
"Bye" He grinned waving
"Be safe" I whispered watching him run off to his house.
Tommy ran as fast as he could to his house before the sun could rise any longer. He climbed up to his window jumping into his room. He was holding the disc carefully when he was climbing so he didn't scratch it. He laid in bed out of breath from running but thank god he made it back before anyone noticed.
A few weeks later you suddenly stopped coming over to play with him and Tubbo. Tommy just thought you had something to do with your family as you did every so often. Days turned into weeks. He sat every night looking at the picture Wilbur took on his birthday of you guys hugging. It didn't sit right that you hadn't shown up or even sent a message that you were away. It confused him.
The next day he begged his family to take him to your house. Yes, he knew how to get to your house but he still wanted one of his brothers to go with I'm knowing his father was still busy. Tommy asked Wilbur in the morning but Wilbur said he was busy today and maybe tomorrow. Tommy had to go today no matter what so he ran to Technoblade's room knocking on the door. Only for Techno to say he was busy and not to bother him.
He sighed knowing he would have to go himself. He put his jacket on and shoes. He walked out of the house and made his way over to your house. Tommy ran to your house concerned, he had a bad feeling and wanted to make sure you were okay.
He saw your house and sprinted faster when he arrived he walked to the door seeing it partially opened. He opened the door all the way seeing the inside of the house destroyed. He walked inside looking around.
"Y/n?" He said seeing shattered glasses on the ground.
"Y/n?!" He saw blood on the ground which made his breath hitch.
"Y/N!" He ran up to your room panicked only to be faced with a pool of blood on the floor.
"No no no no no no," He said his body giving out on him making him fall to the ground blood getting on his clothes and shoes.
He didn't bother to get up and leave. He physically couldn't get up his body was in a paralyzed state so he was forced to lay where you possibly died. his breath was heavy and it was like he had no oxygen in his lungs. he wanted to cry for help but the way he was breathing, it was useless to try. He eventually passed out due to a lack of oxygen.
When he woke up it was night. He still laid in your bedroom but this time he could actually breathe. He then realized he had been gone all day and didn't know what time of night it was. Tommy slowly got up looking at his bloodied clothes. His tears silently fell as he made himself walk back to his house. He wasn't bothered by the noises of the creatures around the area. He couldn't care less if he got hurt because he had a bigger wound that no one would ever be able to fix.
The house lights were on and he saw people sitting outside. He walked closer and saw his family with worried looks on their faces. When they heard footsteps they looked to see Tommy slowly making his way to the door. Wilbur immediately ran up to the little boy pulling him into a hug.
"You had us all fucking worried!" He pulled away from the hug only then noticing the blood. "Holy shit your hurt"
Tommy just stood there no words came out of his mouth as his brother brought him inside to check his "wounds". He was sat on the kitchen counter as Phil raced to grab the first aid kit. when Wilbur went to take Tommy's shirt off to clean the "wound" He says nothing but dried blood.
"Tommy?..."
"She's gone....."
"What?"
"Y/N IS GONE!" His sudden outburst made the 14-year-old jump.
"She's dead Wilby" He sobbed Wilbur pulled the boy into a hug and tried calming down the younger boy. Tommy eventually fell asleep and Wilbur changed him into his pajamas taking the bloody clothes to the washer.
10 years later he sat in exile he lost his precious Discs and was now sent out of the land that he built with Wilbur and Tubbo when Phil went missing and Technoblade left. Wil eventually died by his own father. It was the first time he had seen Phil in 10 years only to see him kill one of the only people who stuck by him.
He then lost Tubbo who exiled him for a stupid prank he did on George's house with Ranboo. Tommy wasn't the type to snitch on someone so he took the blow for Ranboo. He had officially lost everything he ever cared about, the only thing he had left was a picture of you and him hugging when he was 7 years old.
"Tommy?...."
"Y/n?!"
------------------------------------------------------- Just thought of this randomly. ✨YOU ARE AMAZING AND PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE! YOU ARE WORTH IT ON SO MANY LEVELS✨
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supernovafics · 3 years
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇
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pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader
summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 
warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language
word count: 3.6k words
author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.
However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.
There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.
You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.
All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.
But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.
When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.
"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.
“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"
It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.
The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.
"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.
Dylan nodded. "Yeah."
A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.
"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.
Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."
The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.
"Holy shit."
"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.
You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."
Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."
“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.
Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."
You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."
"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.
You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."
"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."
You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.
"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."
Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.
"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.
"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.
Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."
"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."
"A trip to Italy?"
"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."
Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."
"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.
The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.
You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.
Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.
"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."
Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  
After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."
"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"
"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."
You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.
"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.
The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"
You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."
Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."
"Thank you."
"So, how have you been?"
"No."
"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."
You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."
The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.
You felt stuck.
Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.
And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.
However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.
You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."
Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"
You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.
"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."
Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.
"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."
You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.
Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.
"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."
Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"
"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."
Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."
Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."
"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."
Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.
"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.
The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.
The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.
Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.
However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.
Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.
And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.
You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.
"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.
As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.
"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.
The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know your thoughts <3
((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))
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tomatograter · 4 years
Note
New to the fandom, Could you explain June? 💯 Love and support her. But homestuck 2 doesn't have her and I'm just confused?
June Egbert precedes the concept of homestuck^2! I’ve seen a lot of people be confused about this because they weren’t active on the fandom at the time the epilogues dropped, when reading her as a trans woman got a lot of discussion going and eventually lead to multiple confirmations.
So here’s an attempt at contextualization:
Throughout Homestuck, a few key ideas about Egbert’s identity and motivation to push forward with her hero’s journey are dropped like breadcrumbs. She’s meant to play the default straight-man protagonist. Her defining traits are ridiculously… generic, when compared to how all the other kids present themselves and stick to exaggerated bits. She’s a perfectly normal, regular suburban kid with normal, suburban issues. 
She may not leave her room a whole lot. She may not have a lot of real life friends in the neighborhood. She holds a comical irritation for the concept of birthdays, even though her father is extremely supportive, and is delighted to see his son grow up nice and healthy. There’s no reason for her to be so irrationally upset at cakes and gifts, and that’s what makes the setup funny! June doesn’t even know why she’s annoyed with half of the things that annoy her, what the heck.
But under all that playing around there is a sense that her life is so normal, so blasé, so unexciting and limiting and hollow and fake that she’d give anything to not be herself, even if only for ten minutes. This goes way, way back. It’s why June needs SBURB to happen.
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June lives as though her life hasn’t started yet. She’s stuck in the Tutorial stage. I would argue while most kids (and trolls) play SBURB to escape a shitty environment or the end of the world as they know it, June plays for a simpler reason: She needs to escape herself, and she needs to do it before it is too late. 
Being thirteen means crossing the homeric abyss between being a child with no care for the world sporting a generic hand-me-down identity and becoming a Teen (capital T) who needs to figure out how to cope with atrocious bodily changes while building the adult they’re meant to be AND deciding what the fuck they want out of life, and how they’re going to work to get it, forever and ever.
When you’re trans, and you don’t yet know you’re trans (or that this is a thing you’re even ALLOWED to be) the above feels a lot like serving a life sentence for an intangible crime.
You know what you’re supposed to do. You’ve seen it on tv, you’ve heard it from your dad, you know what are the normal trials and tribulations. You know you'll grow a few pimples and stubble and you'll need to learn how to shave, obviously, because it's basically a tradition in your family, and no one is really happy to be a teen. You know at some point you'll find a nice girl and you'll grow a hat out of your skull and then you will have to pay taxes and maybe you will have a baby daughter? You'd like it to be a daughter for no particular reason. And when you get a daughter you're going to name her Casey and she's going to be adorable and this is something you've dedicated a lot of thought to. Maybe its because you thought Nic Cage looked really cool with those long flowing locks in con air, the movie who featured a trans woman as a minor character for a few minutes (and she gets quite a bit of compliments, regardless of how the movie has aged), and he had a really exciting life, but goddamn did he love his daughter. There is no purer love than the bond between a father and his daughter. 
This absolutely has nothing to do with your father and you, or how you hold no excitement for becoming an adult man, or how your father's excitement for you becoming an adult man in your stead feels a little stifling.
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But i digress.
June spends her time on SBURB mostly hassling karkat, and readily following the instructions of zany, dangerous, COOL girls that seem to know what they're doing. June lets Terezi lead her to certain death without blinking. June lets Vriska dress her up as soon as opportunity presents itself. June thinks its really funny to trick this troll Who Types Really Oddly into believing she's Rose, and also into believing that she's a very silly girl. You may even say Homestuck employs a few of jokes pertaining to how her name looks like EGG !
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June has a ball playing this game until it starts to get shitty. She's never able to mend her relationship with her dad, as he's one of the first causalities. She has to spend a lot of time waiting around with jade on a ship until things get cool and exciting again, but she never stops growing during those three years. Its fine, though, because there's always more things to be done and more people to fight.
Until there aren't, and they make a new earth, and while everyone cheers and claps for the birth of a new planet June realizes all her excuses are over. Her friends begin to grow up. Rose gets married. Jade is living her best life. Dave has a not-boyfriend glued to his hip. Jane has a job. Jake is on TV for some reason. June doesn't want to leave home. June's birthday is around the corner again. Here come all the congratulations for becoming a strong lad for yet another year! Vriska is gone. Terezi is gone. SBURB is over. Wacky hijinks have been swapped for real-ass, boring-ass Regular life. We watch her unsuccessfully chase after the glory of days gone by when Rose presents her the possibility of going back into the game, when things were cool and mattered, or her flimsy decision to settle down with a nice girl she hasn’t really made an effort to know and become a father and be absolutely miserable for four decades as she asserts nothing is real, not anymore, and this is just how it is.
Depersonalization, depression and general apathy towards the world are all pronounced aspects of dysphoria that seem like unrelated incidents for someone who hasn't came out yet. June's trainwreck of a life post-game, specially her feeling of hollowness and chasing after anything that could fill it struck a chord with trans readers who left the epilogues to read HS again and discovered this has always sort of been here. June being a trans woman who doesn't have the proper vocabulary to express she is a trans woman makes a lot of earlier bits from the comic click into place, now in a broader context. We settled in the name "June" because it's what she imagines Vriska is calling her at some point, amid laughs, but even that was discussed for a lengthy period last year. What would she want to be called, what are possible tags for this, etc. But it was mostly for fun and games, because the prospect of the protagonist of a 10 year old beloved cult series being ACTUALLY confirmed as a trans woman just wasn't something that was done.
Until word got around to Andrew Hussie and he was reportedly so pleased with this interpretation of events he’d be making references to it, and some time later, a box of toblerones was left in a cave as a gift for fans to find. The first person to find a toblerone thought it would be funny to dedicate it to June, because now she was an ongoing reference that was fun to make. Instead of it ending there, Hussie logs on twitter for the first time in a long while to say 'Oh yeah, i'll make it happen' and that's when the whole thing exploded. I have a post detailing this made a year ago (with pictures!) so i won't keep you here.
In the year since, June has been vaguely alluded to in Pesterquest (in jade's end card, she's having her nails painted by rose.) Has been widely adopted by the community, those making their own fanventures and continuations, and the team behind Homestuck^2. In every way that matters, she's already thriving within the community that brought her to light a year ago. But her coming out in canon is something that will take time and a proper narrative arc to happen, one that is still being set up. We know it'll come eventually, the only question is “how”.
Not that the wind waits for anyone.
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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years
Text
Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1
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Moodboard by @quantumlocked310
Ivarello’s masterpost here
A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖
A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂
A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩
In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.
Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!
Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.
Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.
Words: 1806
Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.
Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂
🛡⚔️🛡
June 2021
Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"
Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"
Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.
"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.
When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"
He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.
"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."
His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"
The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.
Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.
He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.
"What are you going to wear?"
"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"
"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."
"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"
For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.
Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.
First, his stepmom is not–
Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.
Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.
So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.
Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.
The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.
Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.
Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.
Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.
Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.
Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.
Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.
And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.
Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.
So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.
Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.
So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.
But... Yes, there's a but...
Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.
Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.
Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.
Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.
Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.
And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.
That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.
But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.
And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.
"I can't wait."
"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."
"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"
"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."
"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"
Wait. His mind goes blank.
Fuck.
What? Did he hear right?
As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.
Fuck.
He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.
Fuck.
When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"
Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"
"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"
Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"
But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.
I'll go! I'll fucking go!
He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.
With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."
He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"
Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"
Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?
Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."
With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.
Y/N. Fuck.
🛡⚔️🛡
Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom
Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings
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