#plus i think spit would probably leave a bad taste in peoples mouths and would be one of the first songs to come up

[technicolorxsn]

the other day I was forced to realize none of my friends listen to the stuff I do </3

#i was at a music production club and there was this little songwriting exercise #where we had to give an artist for someone else to try and replicate #and i was rly biting my tongue to not recommend kittie bc none of them gave anything near metal </3 #plus i think spit would probably leave a bad taste in peoples mouths and would be one of the first songs to come up #personally i hate kam type shit i think its bullshit #but i think the line 'you think dick is the answer but its not' could still be interpreted as trans inclusive bc the baggage assigned to #dicks is definitely weaponized against trans women but like. dick isnt the answer it literally does not matter yknow? #but tbh i dont rly mind spit mainly bc most of the time metal is extreme in the opposite direction #theres a huge issue with misogyny and bigotry in metal communities so like #ill put up with a little kam since spit fucks hard and a lot of their other songs are bangers #i ended up recommending ajj and no one recognized them </3 #i shouldve specifically said the bible 2 though thats my favorite album of theirs #but disposable everything is their biggest i think? strawberry (probably) was the first song to come up for the person who got my artist #which. eh #its good but not my favorite

[angelplummie]

Okay so like for starterssssss, I love getting represented as a chubby gal 🥺🥺 so I love you for writing that last Oikawa imagineeeee 😩😩😩

Soooo, I was wondering if I could request a plus size reader that really likes Kuroo, (and he’s like a super cliché bad boy🤰🏽) but he’s too embarrassed to be seen with Y/n. So she starts to hit on his friend or try to make him jealous. (I want you to add your own little idea here! But likeee, make her a baddie 😘😘)

Thanks baby 😚

HE’S A SCUMBAG DON’T YOU KNOW

KUROO X CHUBBY F!READER

Angsty?? kinda, a pinch of suggestive stuff

masterlist

post girlboss was referring to

a/n:i decided to go for emo / anger issues / definitely has punched a hole in his wall kuroo, just cuz i love writing losers, and i love seeing grown men cry. reader is like 20/21 just like college age yk, kuroo is 23 as stated in fic. p.s where my artic monkey hoes at

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex n specific sexual acts, suggestive stuff, uhhh bad boy but he’s not a (bad boy) he’s just a (bad) (boy) he’s just no good, like no fr never date guys like this, he may SEEM COOL and give you the dick but girl you will be so embarrassed once u realised u gave up the kitty for a man that genuinely believes tame impala and mac demarco are unheard of and calls himself an empath even though he’s mean to his mum every time she comes over to help with the laundry and has manipulated every girl he’s ever been in the vicinity of but i digress! on with the story!

“Kuroo-!” you yelped in surprised, bed bouncing beneath you. The second he had thrown you down, he ripped off his shirt and made a noise of frustration when he couldn’t shed his skinny jeans fast enough. Brows furrowed, he began hopping furiously to yank them off.

You laughed, much to his annoyance.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep up with that. What’s the rush?”

He sighed, and carefully pulled them off his ankles. Standing up straight, he seemed to have composed himself, with that cocky smirk on his rugged face. Your eyes trailed down his lean, long body. It was all you could do not to scream, he was so gorgeous. He took a few sweeping steps to where you lay, and got right on top of you, hands either side of your head. His eyes bore into you, it made you squirm internally, not that you would ever admit it.

“Just want you so bad, kitten.”

You barked out a laugh as if your heart didn’t jolt at his stupid pet name. It was such a stupid name, but coming from him it made you melt. Again, not like you’d ever admit it.

“Ew, Tetsu don’t call me kitten, it’s cr-“

He cut you off by leaning down and kissing you, you could feel his snake bites against your bottom lip. He groaned softly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He tasted like his sour apple vape, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through it. You could barely contain your butterflies, eyes squeezed closed.

“Come on babe, you know you like it.”

No matter how many times you and Kuroo hung out, it always felt so fresh. Maybe it was because he was exciting, or because he was a little bit wild, you didn’t know.

He leaned down closer to you, getting on his elbows, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and smirked at your breathlessness. With a slender, ring adorned hand, he reached beneath your top and cupped your tits over your bra. He gave them a sharp squeeze and started placing chaste kisses on your neck. He was considerate like that, didn’t leave hickeys because he knew they’d be hard to cover for you. He groaned as he jiggled the fat of your boobs in his hands,

“God, you have the nicest tits, babe.”

You had been dating for nearly 3 months now, if that was what it was. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what you were. You hang out all the time at his or your place, there was rarely a time when you didn’t have an ache between your legs, one way or another. He didn’t really take you on ‘dates’ but chatting to him was fun in itself, you didn’t need to go out to do that. He didn’t necessarily say romantic stuff either... but he didn’t not say romantic stuff either? He beat up your ex at a party one time! That had to mean something right? He exactly wouldn’t tell you how he felt but he showed you, kissing your cheek or tilting your chin up to look at him or kissing your neck or feeling you up. But that usually led to sex, so you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like you only screwed though, you watched your favourite movies together... although the last couple times he just started fingering you. You showed him your playlists? No no, he showed you his playlists, his sex playlists. There seemed to be a common theme here. But... there were times, afterwards, when he would pull in you so tight, tell you how good you were for him, how well you did, how pretty you looked. Any doubts you had were gone after a few hushed words on his tobacco reeking rickety old bed. You’d never really had a relationship like this before, but you assumed it was just because Kuroo was so chill. You were probably boyfriend and girlfriend, he just didn’t feel the need to announce it, he was laidback like that. So what if you guys had a lot of sex? Weren’t you a new couple? Wasn’t this just the honeymoon stage were you can’t get your hands off each other? You didn’t want to seem high maintenance and nag, so you let it be. He was sweet enough to you, right now everything was good.

Until it wasn’t.

A clatter sounded downstairs, the door slamming open against the hallway wall.

“Kuroo! Hey man, I brought some California!”, a voice called from bellow.

Kuroo broke away immediately, spit trailing from your neck to his pink lips.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Kuroo mumbled, pushing off the bed and scrambling the pick up his discarded clothes and shove them back on.

You sat up, disgruntled, rearranging your bra strap from were he’d kneaded at it.

“What’s wrong? Who is that?”

He shot you a glance before continuing to yank back on his jeans.

“Uh, so change of plan, I can’t do tonight. I need you to go home. Discreetly.”

What?

“What? Tetsu, I’m already here,” you scoffed.

What was going on?

Why was he acting like this?

You had never seen him so... frantic.

“I know babe, and I’m really sorry about that, but my friends are here early than I said.”

“So? Can’t I meet your friends?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, just let out an exasperated breath, zipping up his fly.

“Well, yeah you can meet them, just not with me. I don’t want them knowing that I-“

He cut himself off, but you had heard enough to understand.

There was a beat of silence, only disturbed by Kuroo’s friends calling for him.

Your mouth hung open, and you scoffed in shock.

You shouldn’t be surprised really. It’s so obvious now that you think about it. So that’s what this was. That explains everything. He didn’t really like you, he was just using you. That’s why he didn’t take you anywhere, or why he didn’t show you he cared. It was because he didn’t. He wasn’t “afraid of getting close to people” or “emotionally distant”, he was just upfront about not giving two shits about you aside from your vagina. I guess he didn’t want his friends to know he was furiously screwing a fat girl any chance he got. He was embarrassed of you. You were something to be ashamed of. Your stomach jerked as you got to your feet. You were pissed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t really hurt. You had liked him. A lot.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You could see the panic in his eyes, it was quite funny actually. Of course you new what it meant, but it still made you feel a little better to watch his eyes widen like that, to hold a shred of power over him.

“I mean- well I didn’t- come on babe you know I didn’t mean it like that-“ he laughed nervously, not noticing the footsteps in the landing. You rolled your eyes. You may have been naive, but you certainly weren’t going to fall for his shit again. Whatever he spouted.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Just say it, your embarrassed of me.”

“Y/N, please, don’t you think-“

Two men burst through the door, one with spiked grey hair and one with fluffy black hair.

“Kuroo! What the hell are you doing up here we’ve been-“ the grey haired one, stopped when his eyes went from a shirtless Kuroo to you.

Your eyes flickered to Kuroo, he looked mortified.

“Ah. I see. Well, Akaashi, we better give these two some time, we can just-“

“Oh no, I was just leaving,” you grabbed your jacket from on top of his chest of drawers and turned back to the two men, putting on a big smile, adrenaline and fury spurring you on.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Your eyes shot to Kuroo, who looking like get was about to shit himself.

“You probably haven’t heard of me, me and Kuroo have actually been having sex for three months. He kept it a secret because he’s embarrassed of me. We should hang out soon though!”

“Y/N-!” Kuroo yelled, exasperation clear in his tone, but you were already descending the stairs.

He came into the hall, hands rubbing his temples.

“Y/N just come talk for a second, I can-“

But he was cut off by the door slamming.

You got in your car parked outside and sped away.

The whir of the engine and the monotony of the roads cleared your mind a bit, a mist of anger still remaining.

You can’t believe you let yourself be tricked. you were a fully grown woman, but you had been reeled in hook, line and sinker. Not only had you been reeled in, you have been reeled in by a man that still had tik tok LED lights in his room and a fucking monster can collection at the age of 24 fucking years old. The more you thought about him, the more you realised how much of an emo loser he was. Of course you were still hurting, but it was more of the angry hurt you feel when it turns out your crush is homophobic or something (been there done that, don’t ask). He was a waste of oxygen, you had decided by the time you made it back to your apartment. A waste of perfectly good space that could most definitely not get the kitty anymore. You got inside your house, pulled on some comfies and got on facetime with your friends.You told them all about what happened, and they passionately bitched about him with you, confirming your suspicion that they never liked him in the first place. They also told you to forget about his existence, he wasn’t worth a slither of your brain power, he was dirt compared to you. All in all, you felt marginally better, saying goodbye to your friends while they still giggled about how stupid Kuroo’s hair was.

This was just a speed bump, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, you would get over this.

Fast.

“Who’s Bokuto been talking to all night?” Yamamoto leaned over to ask Lev, shouting over the blaring music.

It was a week after you had thrown Kuroo to the curb, and he was out with a couple of volleyball friends, some from Nekoma, but there was also Bokuto with them.

“I’m not sure. I think it’s Y/N something? She’s in class. She’s pretty chill.”

Kuroo’s ears perked up, and he turned around to face his friends up against the bar.

“Bokuto’s talking to who?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Y/N. She goes to my-“

“I know who Y/N is,” kuroo snapped, taking a swig of the beer in his hand and scanning the dance floor for either one of you. He found bokuto first, shoulder against the wall, holding a drink as he leant down to have you whisper something in his ear. That’s when Kuroo paid attention to you. You looked... you looked gorgeous. He felt jealousy creep up inside him. How many times had you been out looking like that since you broke things off? How many guys had you slept with since? How dare Bokuto chat you up when he knew you two had been a thing? Wasn’t he meant to be Kuroo’s friend? As Kuroo wound himself up, you and bokuto continued your extremely pleasant conversation.

“I just wanna say, sorry about Kuroo. He’s a real bonehead, but we’ve been friends since high school so I can’t ditch him.”

You snorted into your cocktail.

“What?”

“Bonehead?”

He frowned and straightened up indignantly.

“Yeah, and? What’s wrong with bonehead?”

“No no, nothing, it’s just very Legally Blonde.”

He beamed down at you.

“I love Legally Blonde!”

“You do? Me too!”

This big beefy man was very cute, you had been talking for nearly three hours now, but you never ran out of things to say. And, aside from the obligatory introduction compliments, he had not made any move to try and get you into a wendy’s bathroom as quick as possible, which you couldn’t say of yours and kuroo’s first meeting.

He had dreamy eyes, you noted as he smiled for the nth time that night.

“Whose your favourite-?”

“What the fuck are you doing man?”

You glanced scathingly over to the familiar face of your old fling.

“What?” Bokuto asked back, clearly done with his friends bad boy shtick.

“Why are you talking to her when... when you know?”

“What’s there to know? I’m talking to her because I want to, and she wants to.”

He looked over to you for approval.

“Right?”

You nodded, a little nervous. You hated Kuroo’s guts, but you knew how weirdly possessive he was, you didn’t wanna cause trouble for Bokuto.

“See? Now I don’t think she wants to see you, right?”

He looked at you again. You nodded again.

“Ok? You guys are over, now are we done?”

Kuroo huffed. His eyes flitted from Bokuto to you, remembering you were there most likely, and he scowled.

“No, we aren’t done, what are you trying to pull anyway? Trying to piss me off by talking to someone I know? Are you really that petty? Well, your little plan is working, so just-just stop, ok?”

You felt like screaming. You had just come out here to have a nice time, not listen to Kuroo’s narcissistic whining.

“Can you just fuck off? Was I not clear enough or something? You’re dead to me, Kuroo. I’m just trying to have a nice night.”

Kuroo’s mouth gaped open. He had never been spoken to like that, never. He clenched his fists at his sides and his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky I gave you the time of day, fat ugly slut.”

He grabbed Bokuto’s shoulder roughly, turning him to face him completely.

“Hey man, thanks for clearing up my sloppy seconds, really good of you. Good to know I’ve got great friends like you.”

Those were the last things out of Kuroo’s mouth before bokuto landed a punch on his cheek, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re a fucking asshole man,” Bokuto grunted.

He stepped over where Kuroo lay, and held out a hand for you to step over too. You took it quietly and trailed along behind him to the door, fingers still locked. His hands were warm, and big. Kuroo’s face must hurt right now. The thought made you smile. He held the door open for you before sighing, resting his back against the wall. You stood in front of him, twiddling with your fingers.

“I am so sorry about that,” You apologised, embarrassed and shaken by the scene Kuroo had made, “I shouldn’t have wound him up, and I shouldn’t have talked to you after I knew you guys were friends, I promise I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry for not making him leave right away. And either way,” he gently reached for your hand again, and you let him take it,”I’m glad you talked to me. I’d like it if you talked to me even more.”

DISCLAIMER FOR KUROO STANS!!!! I DONT THINK HIS HAIR IS STUPID!!! it’s just when ur bestie is going thru a break up or anything entailing a male you shit talk everything about him to high hell, doesn’t matter if he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. also i have no ill will towards kuroo nor any of the characters i write shit bag fan fics about i just like to complain any way i hope you enjoyed! reblogs and replies always appreciated!!!

#haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! #hq x y/n #haikyu angst #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq x reader #angst #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsurou #bo x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 3

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shigaraki x Dabi (just this part), Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader (very brief and vague reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut and feels, it's literally just smut, blow jobs, friends(?) with benefits, blow jobs, anal fingering, light degradation (both for shigs and reader), could maybe be interpreted as slight dubcon, dirty talk, slutty dabi, dabi is an asshole, so is tomura, reader has gender neutral pronouns, I'm keeping it fem cause Shigs hates women and calls them that

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the boys share in some good ole roommate bonding activities and Tomura has a blow job induced epiphany.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged and make sure to check my rules!)

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked despite the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut-in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs, yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it, but Tomura wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking evil grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping Tomura's cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin' it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time when they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deepthroat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at that perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little incel baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting his comforter in stains, but he knew Tomura.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring the failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn A plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual jeering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back, nuzzling his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the sensation and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him.

Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura knew he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did—in his post nut, clingy state—he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that. Cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle he made on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the subsequent slamming.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki x dabi #shigadabi #bee.writes

[starlight-writes-stuff]

hi, do you think you could do another blurb for ethan? maybe something nsfw? like, a party hookup? im thinkin about fratboy!ethan 👁👄👁

(wc: 5.5k) pls im always thinking about fratboy ethan :,) but yes i can do this 100 % ! this ask prompted something deep in me and i ended up making a playlist to go with it as well 🤧here’s the link to that if ur interested https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4yXuVtAKBHexm5ifE9NQ2B ! A L S O i’m sorry this took forever to get to ,,,, life has been a lot recently lol . reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

AYO LOOK AT THESE ! : smut (obvious but still) , sex while under the influence (with explicit consent given) , softdom! ethan , marajuana use , alcohol use , unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it , plz) , swearing , college au , an unus annus reference if u look close enough , and i believe thats it . enjoy ! xoxoxoxo , starlight .

a little party never killed nobody

it was the exact same as every other college party you’d ever been to. shitty music, shittier alcohol, shittiest people- except for him. 

when ethan nestor had invited you to a frat party, you’d laughed in his face. you knew that he was a member of data data data, but he wasn’t the type that made it his whole personality. as far as you’d observed, he wasn’t the partying type, either, but there he was, texting you the house address.

“so you’ll come tonight? it’s going to be a pretty big thing- a lot of people coming. you should be able to walk right in, but if anyone gives you shit just tell them you’re with me,” he said, a slight smirk playing on his lips. you and ethan hadn’t been talking for long; technically, you hadn’t even known that he’d existed two weeks ago. 

when ethan had first sauntered up to you in physical sciences, that same smirk painting his face, you’d picked up on the underlying chemistry right away. he was a flirt by nature, but he seemed to play it up even more around you- the brunette boy had asked for your number the first day you met, and you’d been talking almost constantly since. he was funny and sweet and extremely charismatic, and he made your heart flip in your chest with the smallest glance. the two of you hadn’t hung out alone yet, so this party felt like a big deal.

or, at least, that's what you’d thought.

when you showed up at the front door of the frat house loud, bass-filled music was already shaking the window panes in their frames, and you could hear what sounded like a hundred different voices all talking over each other. ethan hadn’t been kidding when he said that it was a big party; at least half of your year was here, plus the older and younger students interspersed throughout the throngs of people as well. as you made your way to the kitchen, ethan was nowhere to be found. you felt as if all eyes were on you as you started to pour a drink, and dimly, you wondered if people could tell that you didn’t belong.

however, most of your anxious thoughts had been subdued after the first solo cup of vodka lemonade, and you were now well through your second. the music pounding throughout the house felt as if it had infiltrated your veins, filling them with a warm, buzzing sensation that loosened your limbs. at some point, a guy had come up to chat with you. then another. you weren't sure how many times you’d given out your snapchat tonight, but it had been a lot, and you were about to do it again. 

the guy you were currently talking to introduced himself as danny. he was some sort of business major, much like every other guy that you’d spoken with tonight, and was very clearly trying to hit on you. even through the alcohol-induced haze, you remembered who you came here for and you weren't leaving without him. you put a hand on danny’s shoulder, effectively cutting him off in the middle of his sentence.

“hey, do you know where ethan is? ethan nestor, i mean? he’s the one who invited me here.”

danny looked disappointed, but seemed to shift and slot puzzle pieces together in his head, snapping his fingers. “you're the girl he invited? that makes so much sense, actually. yeah, he’s out back- toking up, probably,” he explained, gesturing towards a door you would’ve never noticed. “out there and down the stairs. need an escort?”

you almost denied his advances but spotted an old fling loitering by the hidden door. giving danny a tight smile, you drained the rest of your drink and held up a finger. “one sec! stay here.”

butterflies flooded every inch of your being as you stumbled over to the makeshift bar, pouting a variety of liquors into your cup. you were going to see ethan outside of class. on his turf. something about it shook you to your core, but you couldn’t quite figure out why. 

sure, ethan was hot- that was obvious. but he’d been flirty, too. were the two of you a thing? if you weren’t, why had he been talking to danny about 'the girl he was inviting’? clearly, ethan had been talking about you, you just weren't sure of the context. you tried to swallow all these fears as you topped off your cup with lemonade, taking a small sip. trying not to spit it out, you added more juice; you’d made the strongest mixture you could think of, and it tasted like some sort of poison. that didn’t stop you from taking another small sip, then a bigger one. you needed the buzz.

“okay! let's go.”

danny led you out the door and down the stairs with no issue, and you quickly realized how tipsy you were - the stairs seemed to bob and warp under your feet, and you grabbed onto the handrail with a death grip. he noticed this easily, laughing a bit. “are you good?”

“great. it's the heels and alcohol- they don't mix well.” you laughed at yourself, regretting the chunky, heeled boots you’d thrown on.

“you can ditch them, if you want. we’re going out onto a deck, so you won't be in grass or anything,” danny explained, pointing to a pile of shoes by the door you were about to exit. you weren't going to argue with that, thankful that you’d chosen cute socks as you wrestled the footwear off and tossed it onto the pile. your stomach flipped as danny opened the door, cool night air biting into your warm skin, waking you up a bit. the sourish-sweet scent of marijuana flooded the small stairwell, and danny chuckled. “told you he was smoking.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way you felt watching ethan take a long drag off of some sort of pen, letting the vapor pour from his lips in pale blue plumes. something about the easy way the smoke seemed to float from his mouth went straight to your center, and you dug your nails into your palms, trying to get yourself under control. ethan finally realized that more people had joined the small crowd on the bench, and his heavy-lidded eyes seemed to light up as they roamed all over you lazily. this only furthered the sensation between your legs, the coils starting to tighten in your lower stomach. 

what the hell?

“y/n, you made it,” ethan said, a smile taking over his face. he quickly hopped down from where he’d been sitting on the guardrail and made his way over, wrapping an arm dangerously low around your waist. he hugged you tightly, making your heartbeat stutter as you squeezed him back.

you mumbled a ‘hello’ into his neck as ethan let his touch linger, your body held tightly to his. someone cleared their throat, conversation starting back up, and ethan reluctantly pulled away, dropping his eyes to yours. he kept a hand on the small of your back, sending electricity running up and down your spine. “having fun?”

you could barely talk as you forced yourself to respond. “yeah, lots. you’re a hard person to find.”

ethan grinned again, letting his head fall back as he laughed. “my bad. i thought you would text me when you got here. found someone to take care of you , though?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. the facial expression did absolutely nothing for the situation building up under your skirt- only worsening your want for the tall boy in front of you. 

“who?”

ethan smirked, dropping his lips to your ear. “that's what i like to hear. you look pretty, y/n.”

the way he said your name practically undid you, ripping your self-control apart at the already weakened seams. you let a hand wander up and down one of ethan’s sculpted arms, outlining the planes of muscle through his hoodie as you crossed your legs; sure, it was the ladylike thing to do, but you were desperately looking for some sort of friction, anything to lessen the need for him.

“thank you.”

ethan nodded, the hand that had been perched on your back sliding over your hip before finding your hand. he laced his fingers into yours, and you were shocked at how forward he was being. the two of you had flirted heavily- and okay, maybe you’d sent some suggestive pictures back and forth- but ethan seemed to be claiming you as he led you over to the round table where all his friends were sat. again, you carved half-moons into your palms with your nails as you added up all the chairs- there wasn’t enough. you began to let go of ethan’s hand, ready to boost yourself onto the railing, but he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. you watched as ethan settled into the overstuffed outdoor chair, gesturing at his lap.

fuck.

you took a brief moment to admire the mess you’d gotten yourself into before you gingerly sat on ethan’s lap, trying to make yourself as small and weightless as humanly possible. that didn’t last long, though. ethan circled an arm over your hips, pulling you onto his lap firmly. you couldn’t breathe as you settled into him, crossing your legs tightly. your lower body was tucked away, hidden under the table, but still. you tucked a small portion of fabric between your thighs, ensuring nothing would slip. 

you didn’t say much as ethan continued to conversate with his friends, passing the silvery, skinny device around the table. 

soon, the talk turned from school and classes to typical, stuttering stoner laughing; everyone besides ethan and danny seemed to be a complete lightweight, gone after one hit of the cartridge. however, both the boys were on at least their fourth hit and still seemed relatively composed. they’d started to talk about some sort of economic study, and you’d quickly grown bored and confused. after sitting through 10 more minutes of the terminology you didn't understand, you began to wiggle around on ethan’s lap, loosening his grip on you. 

at the same moment, you and ethan both shifted in just the right way, causing one of his legs to end up between both of yours just as your hips rolled forward. delicious friction flooded your system, and you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying to stifle a moan. you fought with everything in you not to rock your body again, sensation overwhelming your impulse control. before you could do anything, one of ethan’s large hands found your hips, squeezing just enough to leave fingerprint-shaped marks on your skin. ethan knew what he’d done- you could hear the satisfaction threaded through his voice.

“you okay? what d’you need?”

you tried to steady your voice, painfully conscious of the people around you. while most of ethan’s friends were high enough that they wouldn’t notice, you knew that danny would pick up on any changes in your demeanor. you swallowed hard before answering him.

“i'm gonna go get another drink.” another gentle squeeze practically lit your skin on fire, and ethan held the pen up to you. 

“wanna try this instead?”

you weren’t going to lie- you’d been a bit jealous of the boys, not even thinking of passing the device to you. with shaky hands, you reached to accept the cartridge, but ethan had different plans. a sinful look found its way into his slitted eyes as ethan held the pen up to your lips. “go ahead.”

you could’ve passed out from the command, the look, the way that he’d started to bounce his leg. it was as if he was trying to break you- like he wanted you to give him some sort of sign that you wanted him. you did, more than anything. desire seemed to curl its way into every inch, every cell of your body, its spurs digging into your skin. 

you met ethan’s eyes deliberately as you accepted the cold metal into your mouth, inhaling deeply. you took immense pleasure in the look that crossed ethans face as you pulled away with lungs full of the hazy drug. you held your breath for as long as possible before letting the vapor drift from your lips, just as ethan and done earlier. you watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, his eyes snapping off of yours and over to danny.

“i’m gonna take y/n to get a drink. watch them, will you?” he asked, gesturing to the rest of his friends. danny just nodded, mumbling a low ‘have fun’ as ethan practically lifted you off of his lap. adrenaline coursed through each and every one of your veins and ethan laced his fingers through yours, leading you inside. 

ethan barely let the door shut before his hands were on your hips, pinning you to the wall of the small stairwell. his lips met yours roughly, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that had been building in your throat for the past hour. you felt ethan smirk at the soft noise before he bit at your lower lip, dragging the soft flesh between his teeth. again, you let out a whine full of pleasure- he just felt so good. you let your arms circle ethans neck, one of your hands knotting in his dark hair. you pulled at the roots gently as ethan’s tongue rolled against yours, your body entirely succumbing to him.

he forced himself to pull off of your body, and you let out a small whine; you’d been waiting on this. ethan smirked, his laugh coming out dark and much raspier than usual. “don’t worry doll, i'm not done with you yet. just can't have you here.”

the words went right through you, only adding to the ache between your thighs. ethan took your hand with a profound gentleness, and dropped a soft kiss on your forehead. “before this even starts, are you sure?” 

you nodded eagerly, getting up on your tiptoes to recapture his lips, but ethan pulled back. you furrowed your eyebrows at the tall boy, confused- until he brought a hand up to your face, holding your jaw. ethan tilted your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i need words, baby. are you positive? i can-”

“so sure. i promise.” you nodded at him, your eyes never leaving his. “i want you.”

ethan swore under his breath and kissed you hard before leading you up the stairs. you started to feel the effects of the drug as ethan took you from kitchen to living room, up some stairs… you lost track of all the places you’d been, allowing the weed to cloud everything in a gauzy veil. you felt good; light and somehow heavy at the same time, and you enjoyed the way that everything seemed to slow down. finally, ethan opened a door and pulled you in behind him. you realised where you were- his room. it smelled like ethan, like citrus and musk and something you could only describe as boy. 

you let out a small giggle as ethan reached for a remote, colored lights dousing the room in a sultry red glow. “setting the mood?”

quickly, you were shut up in the best possible way. ethan kissed your roughly, all teeth and tongue and hands everywhere as he backed you against one of his walls. you let yourself get lost in him, basking in the warmth of your hunger for him. one of ethan’s cold hands made its way under your shirt, the other holding your jaw in place as he bit into your bottom lip once again, making you whine. 

“feel good?” ethan asked, breathlessly. you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you couldn’t help the way your back arched at the simple question. your nails dug into his shoulder as ethan slid his thumb under the band of your bra, and he let out a rough moan, managing to undo the clasp with one hand. ethan pulled away from you long enough to rid you of your shirt, discarding your bra on the floor as well while you practically ripped his hoodie off, desperate to feel his skin against your own. he clearly wanted the same, judging by the way he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you flesh against his chest. 

ethan managed to capture both of your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them above your head. you were unfamiliar with the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation seemed to send your heart thrumming even faster. he kissed you until your lips were sore and your knees were weak before finally dropping his forehead to yours. ethan took his chance, letting his eyes roam all over you and you watched his pupils grow larger until his eyes were practically black. “jesus fuck, y/n. you’re beautiful.”

your voice came out high and breathy as you responded. “ ‘could say the same about you.” you were practically panting, your body no longer responding to your mind as your back arched. ethan let out a hard breath. 

“do you know what you do to me?”

your eyes fluttered shut as ethan’s lips met the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue exploring the delicate flesh. he quickly found your weak spot and focused his attention there; he let his teeth gently sink into your skin, making you gasp before using his soft tongue to soothe the spot. he repeated this process all over your neck, sucking on your flesh when he found a sweet spot. you knew that you’d be covered in purple-blue bruises, but you’d wear them proudly- that was ethan’s motivation for marking you up.

ethan trailed soft, wet kisses all the way down your neck to your collarbones, groaning at the way you pushed your chest toward him. he hesitated, but started kissing back up your neck, your jaw, back up to your lips. he released his grip on your wrist and you quickly cupped his face in your hands, kissing him with everything in you. you wanted the boy to feel the way you wanted him, and you knew he could as his lips seemed to slow, the kisses getting deeper and deeper. you lost yourself completely in ethan, unsure of where he started and you ended. you could feel his heartbeat against your own, the two thumping rapidly, almost erratic.

the two of you stayed pressed up against each other, your back firmly against the wall for a while, until ethan finally pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “bed?”

you nodded eagerly, wanting the boy all over you. the two of you stumbled, half kissing over to the mattress, falling together. ethan quickly situated himself on top of your body, caging you in between his arms. he began kissing down your body at a torturously slow pace, tracing the dark marks he’d already left with his soft tongue, driving you insane. ethan took his time working down to your breasts, finally taking one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth. you let out an almost guttural moan at the sensation, pleasure overwhelming your senses. ethan hummed at your reaction, only intensifying the feeling. you tangled a hand in his hair, the other digging into his back, leaving long, red scratches on his pale skin. 

ethan swirled his tongue around your bud, taking extreme pride in the way you let your head fall back against the mattress, moans of his name spilling from your lips. he tucked an arm under the arch of your back, pulling your body even closer to him- he didn’t want any space dividing the two of you. ethan pulled off of your puffy nipple with a soft moan, wasting no time in kissing over your chest, pulling the other into his mouth. he covered your chest in dark, deep bruises, admiring his work under the sensual glow of the red lights. “so pretty..”

you couldn’t form full sentences to respond with, just broken moans and pleads and tugs on his hair. ethan found it endearing, the way you wanted him so badly. he couldn’t help but give you what you needed.

he kisses hastily down your body leaving small lovebites here and there on your ribs, your stomach. ethan hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your skirt and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin right above the fabric. “this okay?”

“yes, i- please,” you pleaded, lifting your hips to make it easier. ethan got rid of the piece of clothing, discarding it on his bedroom floor, quickly followed by your panties. he let out a throaty moan, his eyes working over you lazily, like he had all the time in the world. he admired your body until you wriggled underneath him, needing some sort of stimulation. 

“what do you want, baby?”

“you,” you whined, desperation weaving through your voice. ethan pressed gentle, warm kisses on your hip bones, fighting a laugh. 

“i know that. what specifically?”

“fuck, ethan. anything, just touch me. please.”

“okay, okay. and you're positive this is alright?”

“yes. i’m so sure. i swe-” your words died in the back of your throat as ethan pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, soft circles. “holy fuck.”

“already so worked up,” ethan mumbled, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. “this because of me?”

you were taken aback by the way your high seemed to multiply the pleasure by tens of thousands- ethan was barely touching you and you could feel your high approaching quickly. you couldn’t find the words to answer him as ethan shifted between your legs, giving himself a better view of your sex. “does that feel okay?”

a stream of swears left your lips as ethan quickened his pace, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. “so fucking good, just like that.” the knots in your stomach continued to tighten as you balled the sheets in your fist, tugging at his hair with the other hand.

ethan pressed a kiss dangerously low on your hip, looking up at you. “can i?”

your hips bucked at the tone of his voice, and you nodded vigorously. ethan kept his eyes on yours as he ran his tongue through your folds, lapping your arousal up. he couldn’t help but groan at the taste of you, the way you pulled at his hair, putting his mouth where you wanted it before letting your head fall back onto his bed. ethan started to suck at your sensitive bud, rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“i- fuck- i’m close.”

he hummed, the vibrations sending you over the edge. your eyes rolled back into your head while you tugged at his hair, your orgasm completely undoing you- the high only added to the sensation, making it that much better. your hips bucked under the skillful work of his soft tongue as ethan let you ride out your high on his face. 

ethan dropped a gentle kiss on your clit before peppering your entire body with them, giggling at the way you squealed. he finally attached his lips to your neck, your jaw, back to your lips. you kissed him hard, tasting yourself off of him. finally, when your exhaustion won out you pulled away, running your hands through ethan’s fluffy hair. 

“how was that?”

you propped yourself up on your elbows, pecking ethan’s lips. “so, so good,” you mewled between heavy breaths. ethan bit down on his lower lip and smiled, pride filling his system. 

“god, you look good moaning my name. you're beautiful, you know,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. ethan looked at you with a tenderness in his eyes, placing another kiss on your lips. “think you can go again?”

ethan started trailing down your body again, not waiting for an answer. he was laser focused on pleasuring you, making you whine and whimper for him- only for him. before he could get far, though, you were grabbing at his arm and shaking your head. he flushed, peeling away from you while starting to profusely apologize, but you pressed a finger to his lips. 

“want you. inside of me,” you explained between pants, still exhausted from the first round of stimulation. ethan threw his head back, swearing. 

“jesus christ, y/n. need me that bad, baby?”

his choice of words drowned you in desire, and you were all his. “yes. please, ethan?”

he wanted to fuck you until all you could do was moan his name just like that, over and over again. before you could process what was happening ethan had his hands all over you, roaming your body as he practically drooled at the sight before him: your already fucked out body, the sweet look painting your face, begging for him. ethan could barely control himself, his words coming out as rough murmurs.

“protection? i mean, i have it.”

you bit at your lip, hard. you were on birth control, and you wanted him- all of him.

shaking your head, you explained. “birth control. we’ll be fine, if you’re comfortable.”

you jumped as ethan moved a finger to your entrance, dipping into your sex. he groaned at the way you clenched around the appendage, his cock jumping in his boxers. “want my cum inside you?”

“yes- fuck, ethan, please,” you begged, reduced to nothing. all you wanted; all you needed was him inside you, ruining your body until you couldn’t take anymore pleasure. 

“so tight,” he mumbled, lining another finger up. you bucked your hips, the sensitivity almost too much as he stretched you out, watching the way your face contorted under his influence. ethan placed a large hand low on your abdomen, applying light pressure. “if you can’t take this, you won’t be able to take me.”

you nodded, pace almost desperate for him to continue. “feels good baby. so good.”

you took note of the pleased expression that stretched over ethan’s face as you praised the boy- you were just telling the truth, but clearly he liked to hear what a good job he was doing. ethan brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves and you grabbed at his wrist, nails digging into skin. 

“gonna make me cum again,” you warned, but ethan only smiled at you, nodding almost condescendingly.

“wanna finish on my fingers, pretty girl?”

you wanted to say no, wait to come undone around him, but his movements felt too good. you dug your nails into his arm even harder, your other hand clawing into ethan’s soft sheets as the knots in your stomach came undone, your walls contracting around his fingers tight enough to make him moan. 

ethan let his pace slow, extending your orgasm as you practically rode his hand, crying out in absolute euphoria as he increased pressure on your clit.  unable to form words, you released your grasp on the boy’s arm, bringing your hand up to his face instead. you pulled ethan’s lips down to meet yours, whining at the feeling of his clothed cock grinding against your center.

ethan couldn’t take it anymore, quickly ridding himself of the soft sweatpants. you watched as his manhood sprung up, hitting his abdomen; the sight in and of itself enough to make you let out another bliss-filled noise. ethan let his eyes fall to yours as he stroked himself, shuddering at the heavenly friction. again, his voice came out low as he lined himself up with you.

“sure?”

far beyond words, you nodded and laced your fingers through his. 

ethan returned your grasp with a sweet squeeze, gliding the tip of his cock through your folds- coating himself in your arousal. the two of you moaned in sync; a sweet, satisfied sort of harmony. finally, ethan pushed into you slowly, gasping at the feeling. you couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back into your head, the feeling of him inside you almost too much. 

“you okay?”

“so good,” you breathed, trying not to yelp at the feeling spreading through your lower body. ethan was well endowed- the biggest you’d ever taken- and it was an addictive sort of pain. he moved slowly, stopping a few times; allowing you to adjust around his length. when he’d bottomed out, ethan let his head fall back, groans escaping his throat.

“so fucking tiny,” he gasped, a groan cutting his statement off. “feel so good around me, gorgeous.”

you nodded at him, trying your best to meet ethan’s eyes as you praised the boy. “so fucking big- you feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking. “want you so bad.”

a breathless laugh escaped ethan’s lungs as he maneuvered a hand behind one of your thighs, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder. he pushed even deeper into you and black spots began to crowd the sides of your vision, the pleasure overwhelming. slowly, ethan started to pull out of you, eliciting filthy words and moans from you before he slid his length back in. 

“fucking hell, y/n. so tight,” he said, voice tipping up into a whimper at the end. he quickened his pace, the noise of sleeping skin filling the room. you could barely contain yourself, no longer fighting the stream of murmurs and swears leaving your lips as ethan continued to pump in and out of you. your next orgasm was already building, the coils tightening rapidly in your lower belly.

ethan let his hand wander down to your sensitive bud, almost coming undone at the sight of your eyes fluttering shut. you traced up his forearm, scraping at his sweet skin before knotting your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots. 

“eyes open, baby. look at me.”

you could’ve cum then and there, the instructions only turning you on further. you forced your eyes open, meeting his as ethan sped up again. an almost animalistic noise left your throat as ethan thrusted into you roughly- you weren’t going to be able to hang on much longer. ethan felt the way your walls were clenching around him, fluttering and tightening as he increased his speed on your clit.

“close?” he asked, unable to say much more than that. your grip around him was euphoric- he was closer than he’d like to be. it hadn’t been more than 20 minutes, but with the way you were pulling at his head, almost crying in completely bliss, ethan wanted to fill you to the brim with his cum then fuck it into your sensitive pussy, overstimulating the sweet flesh.

you nodded, humming a small “mhm,” as you looked at him with wide eyes. ethan paused for a moment, shifting your leg up even higher onto his shoulder before plunging back into you. you felt the head of his cock hit a new, even more delicious spot and you became almost delirious. looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, you felt a tear crawl down your cheek.

“gonna cum, ethan-”

“fuck- me too. let go, baby.”

your entire body seemed to shake and shudder under the force of your orgasm- it hit you like a fucking train. you felt ethan’s thrusts get sloppier as he buried himself inside you, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. he whimpered as he shot his cum deep into your pussy, the sensation all consuming. the two of you stayed like that for a while- riding out your highs with each other, rough moans turned to honey-sweet mewls. 

as your heart rate started to come down, you peppered the boy's face with soft, careless kisses: ones that he gladly returned. ethan finally found your lips, pressing tender, long kisses to the swollen skin. 

“you’re a fucking god,” you murmured, stressing the word as ethan’s face flushed even hotter than it already had been.

“that,” he huffed, breathing still hard and uneven, “would be you.”

you giggled at the statement, your voice hitching as ethan slowly pulled out of you. you could feel a mixture of him and you spill out, the substance flowing over your things as ethan kissed down your body, taking in the sight between your legs. 

“so pretty, baby,” he whispered, sinking a long finger into your pussy. your whole body spasmed at the feeling, completely overstimulated. ethan pulled out of you softly, watching the way his cum seemed to spill out of you endlessly. he placed small, delicate kisses to the marks he’d left covering your thighs, admiring his work. “can i keep you here for the night?” he asked, eyes turning affectionate.

you nodded at the boy as he came back up to meet your lips, then your forehead. as you settled onto his chest, drawing lazy patterns on his skin, ethan's voice seemed to return to normal.

“such a good girl.”

#ethan nestor #crankgameplays #crank gameplays #smut #ns/fw #ask #anon #request #writing #blurb #fic #college au #ethan #nestor #starlight-writes-stuff #aight thats it #love u drink water

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #happy birthday to me 🎉 #<<< the way i typed that tag so long ago and now look what day it is #extras #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #hq imagines #i accidentally deleted part of this b4 i can’t believe #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! scenarios #hq scenarios #why did this take me so long to write + it’s so dumb this is embarrassing #hq!! x reader #suna imagines #suna scenarios #haikyuu fluff #suna rintarou

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 4 (Waves)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, suggestive content, mentions of marking, angst (kinda maybe sort of?). Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Author’s Note: So I’m trying to not make every story super depressing. At least for now. So I took a shot at some average fluff for Jihoon’s chapter. Let me know what you think! It’s a bit short, but I’ll edit it some more to juice it up when I have the free time.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

☁️

Lonely Together Masterlist

Chapter 4: Waves

You were still getting used to everything, which no one could blame you for. You weren’t used to being around humans let alone lovey happy couples all the time. It was all… disorienting to you. You understood why the rest of the pack acted the way they did with their mates, in a way you also felt some primal need to be the same with Jihoon. But it was just… quite a big adjustment for you.

It wasn’t bad by any means! You knew you’d get the hang of most of it eventually. But there were some things you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to. Like the constant PDA of the couples around you. You didn’t understand the need to be that close to someone all the time or need to be that handsy. You always wondered if maybe Jihoon wanted to be like that, but you never really had the courage to ask in case you wouldn’t like his answer.

You also knew you’d never really like the fact that the pack seemed to refer to you more as a mate than as a wolf. You grew up being a wolf above all else, you considered yourself a wolf first. Now, you were Jihoon’s mate. Just one of the girls. You ate with them, you hung out with them, and you were treated like them even though you were just as strong if not more so than most of the males. Soonyoung didn’t get treated that way even though he was technically Seungcheol’s mate. It seemed unfair. That thought seemed to leave a bitter metallic taste in your mouth, but you just dealt with it because that’s just how it was now.

And you knew you’d NEVER understand the need to give your partner sweet little gooey nicknames. I mean, who the hell decided it was an adorable idea to start calling the person they fuck baby? How the hell was that SUPPOSED to be cute? It was creepy to you. You could tell it visibly bothered Jihoon that you hadn’t called him anything other than his given name, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to call him by anything else. Every cutesy petname you could think of just felt… wrong to you. Sweetheart? Shit didn’t make sense. Hearts were NOT sweet. Sugar? He wasn’t composed of glucose or fructose so that wasn’t right. Prince? He wasn’t royalty, well, at least not that neither of you knew of. Daddy? Even creepier than baby. So you just opted to leave it at Jihoon.

As for you and Jihoon, you’d been doing alright. You were still rather shy around each other, but you were definitely more obvious in your affection with each other. For instance, at breakfast you always seemed to find yourself scooting your chair as close to his as you could manage. And he always made sure you were within his sight. You weren’t sure why. Where could you have possibly gone when you were stuck with a bunch of wolves? But it did make the chambers of your heart constrict extra whenever you noticed him trying to look for you. You had to admit, It was kinda cute.

There was still one problem. You two hadn’t… consummated your bond yet. You were still unmarked even though it had now been weeks of being in the same house together. He hadn’t even tried to sleep with you. It had you confused, shouldn’t he have wanted to have sex with you by now?

-

“Dude quit being a little bitch and just do it already!” Soonyoung groaned at his younger brother while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

You were currently outside learning how to play soccer with Somi, just far enough away to where you couldn’t hear what was going on inside. They were all watching you guys from the window. You felt someone staring at you so you looked up from the ball next to your feet towards the house. Your mate was eyeing you and had a fond smile flashing brightly at your from his spot. You gave him a sweet one back with a little wave added before you continued on with your fancy foot maneuvering past the younger girl and scored a goal, causing you to jet your hands in the air in celebration. God he loved you.

Jihoon looked away to sigh and he ran his shakey hand through his slick hair, “But how am I supposed to do that? You fuckers are here every second of everyday and she can hear everything that goes on the same as I can. You’re all way too distracting. If she’s anything like me-” He was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Which she is.” Mingyu stated with a giant grin on his face while crossing his arms over his chest.

“IF she’s anything like me, she doesn’t want you guys listening in or around when we’re going at it. She’s too private for that” Jihoon emphasized, trying his best to contain his annoyance at the taller boy for his smugness, “Plus, you’re all too lovey with each other, it makes us both awkward and uncomfortable.” He admitted.

Joshua laughed and slapped his hands on his knees where he was sitting down at the table, “So you’re telling me that WE make YOU GUYS uncomfortable? Have you ever even been in the same room with yourself? You’re both ridiculously intimidating to the girls because you’re so quiet. WE know it’s because you’re just shy. But THEY all think you’re some sort of psycho killer dude!”

“Yeah if looks could kill, we’d all have been long dead by now!” Snorted Wonwoo, who had his arm wrapped around his mate possessively.

Jihoon raised his chest out defiantly, slightly annoyed at his pack mates for making fun of his cold exterior, “Yeah? Well at least I can keep my hands off my mate for more than a split second!”

He never really understood the need to keep partners away from other people. That is, until the other day when Chan had accidentally brushed up against your front while trying to reach for a plate. He all but chewed him up and spit him out for it, though you didn’t know that as he did it once you had gone up to bed. He couldn’t help it. His inner wolf just snapped at the poor kid. Though looking back, he’d still do it again. No one should be touching you but him.

“Not for long. You’re getting soft. You’re laughing more at the things she says, you’re joining us on errands more because she goes with, you’re getting more and more protective over her because she’s not marked and you don’t want anyone taking her away from you” Mingyu proudly spoke up much to Jihoon’s shock. He happy that he had taken the smaller wolf off guard with his statement, “You’re getting just as whipped man. You want my advice?” He asked, seeming pretty genuine with his question.

Jihoon nodded at him. Mingyu was surprisingly one of the few who could actually keep a few feet’s distance from his mate. Out of everyone in the pack, he would’ve DEFINITELY expected him to be the one most likely to be attached to his lovers side. But he when he found his mate, he didn’t get possessive over her at all. He just let her do her own thing with relative freedom. He figured he must have had some sort of secret behind being able to control himself and, for your sake, Jihoon figured he should take any help he could get before he got bad.

“Mark her as soon as you can. It helps. You wont get as jealous, at least around us, because we’ll smell you on her.” He shrugged towards his elder, quickly going over and kissing the top of his mates head who was sitting on the ground braiding Josh’s mates hair.

The thought of marking you sent a weird feeling through Jihoon’s veins. He WANTED to. But the real question was, would you LET him? “I don’t know. It could help I guess. But again, you bitches are always here and if I EVER want to do anything with her, you assholes can’t be anywhere near or she’ll refuse.”

“Okay okay! What if we were to all go visit Taeyong’s pack later? Then would you get the stick out of your ass and just fucking get it over with?” Seungcheol interjected with a heavy chuckle.

He was just as glad that his younger brother found you as everyone else. He really needed you in his life, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So he knew he had to help him figure out how to finally make things ‘official’ with you.

Jihoon thought for a moment. There didn’t seem to be a reason why that couldn’t work. He’d just have to make sure you knew to stay behind which, considering how touchy feely the others were, you’d probably be more than happy with that, “That’s….. actually a good idea.”

“Yeah no shit Sherlock. That’s why he suggested it” sneered Jeonghan. Jihoon sent him a small warning growl before Hannie went and collected the other mates and boys to tell them the new plan for the day.

He couldn’t lie, he was super fucking nervous. Other than that day you found out you two were mates, he hadn’t been left alone with you. At least not completely. There was always someone how because of how many people that lived in the house. He didn’t have much experience with girls. He had more experience than you did, but he was still trying to grasp the whole ‘mating’ thing. He didn’t know where to even start. He couldn’t just go up to you and go “hey I need to mark you or I’m gonna go crazy so we need to fuck like rabbits.” I mean, what kind of loser did that? He had to start thinking of a more subtle approach.

And, as if on cue, in came you and Somi from outside after Jeonghan had called for you both from outside. Your cheeks were a bit flushed from being in the sun and your hair that was once put up in a neat ponytail was now falling out in locks towards the rest of your face. You had grass stains on your knees and you had a bit of dirt on your forehead. You looked like you had gotten into a fight with the ground when in all reality, it was just your first time playing a child’s game.

“So, we’re going somewhere?” Somi ran up and kissed Chan on the cheek before he cuddled her in his arms.

“Yeah. WE are. THEY’RE staying here.” He let a playful grin plaster on his face as he pointed at your and your mate.

You cocked your head to the side in confusion, “We are? Why’s that?”

Chan gulped down his dry throat and shifted his eyes towards Jihoon, who was now staring daggers into him, “Oh… um- well… because…”

“Because we’re gonna be doing coupley shit over at Taeyong’s today and Jihoon said you wouldn’t want to watch us make out.” His sentence was quickly interrupted by the oldest alpha, much to your mate’s relief as his answer seemed to satisfy you.

“Ew yeah no. I’ll stay here that sounds gross,” you shook your head and scrunched up your nose in disgust, “Though I think I’ll take a shower. I feel almost as gross as you all are together.” You chuckled as you mad your way up the stairs and to the bathroom.

-

A little while later after everyone had got themselves together and understood why they suddenly had to leave, they began to head towards the door to depart. You were now upstairs in your bedroom, a towel tightly wrapped around your body and hair as you read a book to work on your Korean. You were pretty good with the actual speaking portion of the language, minus your accent of course, but you were still having a bit of trouble with the spelling and reading. And since it was the native language of most of the people who lived in the house, you figured it was best you study up on it a bit more to become more fluent.

Before you knew it, the others had left. You began focusing on a page of plural ways of speech and were brought out of your gaze by a soft voice near the doorway of your bedroom, “How’s the studying coming along?”

“It’s going about as well as dealing with humans after centuries of avoiding them.” You figured, putting your book down on the bedside table and looking at your mate who was now moving to sit at the end of your bed.

“That bad huh?” He joked while bringing his hand to touch your naked thigh. It brought a light pink blush to your cheeks, but you did your best to avoid it as much as possible and continued the conversation.

You shrugged the heat one your face away, “It comes and goes in Waves. Besides, It could be worse”

“And how’s that?” Jihoon questioned, giving you a tilted head in response.

“I could have had to go watch all the other suck face all day with another pack.” You laughed in amusement at your own joke.

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before he responded, “Well… yeah… about that…” he trailed in an effort to avoid the situation.

“What about it?”

“Wellllll….” He took a deep breath in so he could finish his sentence, “They decided to leave for me- well for us- so we could… have some time alone together…” he brought his newly hot face down to look at his lap so he didn’t have to look you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Alone time?” You bit your lip to hold back a knowing grin. You knew exactly what he was trying to say. But you really wanted to HEAR him say the words. Half to confirm your suspicions, half so that he would squirm a bit.

“Uh yeah. Alone time…” he started to pick at his nails to distract himself. He had never really been this nervous before. Why was he even nervous? You were his mate. It’s not like you’d have an issue with it all… right?

Your pulse was starting to race. The thought of what could happen was heating your body up to the point of concern. You weren’t sure why you were reacting this way, maybe it was because he was your mate, maybe it was because now you could go into heat, you didn’t know. But you did know that if he was going where you thought he was going with his sentence, you’d definitely not be complaining.

You gave him a wondering look, “What do you mean by alone time?” You faked innocence in your question, playing with the edge of the towel wrapped around your body.

He groaned in frustration and threw himself to the bed, landing on his back with a light thud while his hands found their way to his face, “They all left so I could mark you okay?? I knew you wouldn’t want to do anything like that with them here. But I knew I needed to do it soon so that my jealousy wouldn’t get the best of me. So Cheol agreed to have everyone leave for the day so we could just-get it over with” He sighed out, hands still covering his eyes so he could ignore your no doubt astonished face.

But instead, you found yourself straddling him in your easily droppable attire. His hands automatically sent themselves down to hold your hips once his body realized what was happening.

“You know, you could’ve just said that to begin with you know” you seductively let out. His face was absolutely stunned at your sudden behavior change. What actual fucking alien world had he stepped in when he came into your shared room?

(Updated 9/16)

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt au #jihoon #seventeen jihoon #svt jihoon #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi angst #svt woozi #seventeen woozi

[realcube]

Ok but hc for what type of girl the pretty setter squad+yamaguchi they would date.

Thanks and have a nice day!💖🥺

yes!! i love the pretty setter squad but like i don’t have too many hcs to make this a whole thing so i feel like the following title is necessary:

characters: pretty setter squad + yamaguchi

trigger warning: swearing, somewhat crack, sexual references (these are just my opinions/hcs btw - plz don’t take it too seriously)

tobio kageyama

♡ i will preach this till the day i die and ik y’all are probably tired of writing all my reader inserts for kageyama x reader one-shots like this but yk what tobio wants- you know what tobio needs and deserves- the female equivalent of oikawa tōru

♡ if her favourite food ain’t milk bread and her personal motto isn’t ‘if you’re gonna hit it then it it till it breaks’ then HE DOESN’T WANT IT /j

♡ but he’d like someone who cares about their appearance, is passionate about something like he is, fairly smart, witty and kinda a heartthrob 

♡ bonus points if it’s a sport that they are passionate about

♡ i feel like he’d be into just like a typical ‘girly girl’ yk?

♡ also he has a soft spot for acrylic nails- he just thinks they look so cool and if he saw yours he’d definitely call them ‘badass’

♡ he thinks they are kinda impractical for volleyball so that’s why he doesn’t get them himself (plus they are expensive as hell and he only has milk box money)

♡ so yeah he would date an oikawa kinnie 

♡ overall, i think he just wants someone independent who can take care of themselves 

♡ except when you can’t open the tab of your coke bc of your acrylics, then he is happy to help

tadashi yamaguchi

♡ i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again; YAMAGUCHI IS A LESBIAN

♡ ok now that i’ve got your attention, let me explain what this means and what it has to do with this taste in girls

♡ he fell down the wlw pipeline- if that’s a thing

♡ like while the gang were watching sjw get rekt compilations, yamaguchi was watching hayley kiyoko music videos and lgbt short films on youtube-

♡ now imagine that scene were babey yamaguchi was getting bullied except they were teasing him bc he said his favourite song was girls like girls RGTYGJKMN 

♡ anyway, till this day, he is watching cottagecore lesbian tiktoks (minecraft and irl) while others watch ben shapiro it is such a shame 

♡ he doesn’t fetishize them though- it’s just his ideal lifestyle 

♡ he’s developed the mind of a wlw tho so i think his thoughts are similar to mine in a way that he’s just like ‘WOMEN 😍🥰💓’ all the time 24/7

♡ so yeah this was my elongated way of saying that yamaguchi doesn’t really have type, all women are queens in his eyes

♡ but in an ideal world, his s/o would be an ally of the lgbtq+ community, if not apart of it, stan any wlw singer/band (preferably kpop), won’t yell at him 🥺 and are willing to run away with him to a cottage in the woods at any given moment 

kōshi sugawara

♡ his taste isn’t very specific but here are some things he looks for in partner:

♡ either likes baking or likes eating what he bakes and giving him feedback

♡ has long eyelashes/wears lashes (he thinks they are cute and ik you do too don’t even lie)

♡ oh and shiny lipgloss too 

♡ very good communicator 😌

♡ a simp

♡ someone who likes gardening or is at least willing to try pick it up to help him with his herbs

♡ will do facemasks with him

♡ intelligence; he will literally bust a nut for someone who can recite newton’s third law of motion 😩 

♡  and honesty ✨ (bc he needs to be told when his hair looks wack plz) 

kenma kuzome

♡ plz he needs a catgirl 

♡ like your typical anime catgirl

♡ bushy tail, high + soft voice, big eyes, even bigger honkers, maybe a tsundere, cat ears, purs and gives good head ✨

♡...

♡ I WAS JUST INFORMED THAT CAT GIRLS DO NOT EXIST AND I AM BOTH DISGUSTED AND DISAPPOINTED BEYOND BELIEF 

♡ me and kenma are never leaving our rooms again istg what is even the point anymore if ik that i won’t meet a catgirl 😭

♡ so yeah, if he were to date someone who isn’t a cat girl, they’d probably have to be a human equivalent or like.. a gamer

♡ a streamer maybe 

tōru oikawa

♡ he also doesn’t have a specific type but here are some of his turn offs:

♡ kageyama tobio 

♡ kageyama tobio kinnies

♡ people who think he’s too obsessed with volleyball and is incapable of loving anything/anyone else

♡ laziness

♡ ppl who’ve got a FAT fucking ass 😡 (jealousy ofc)

♡ ushijima stans

♡ bad breath 🤢

♡ppl who don’t know every word of primadonna girl by marina

♡ horse girls 

♡ aries (he’d still date an aries but he will tease you for it. if you ever mess something up like you drop a glass and it spills water everywhere he’ll just side-eye you like ‘that’s classic aries behaviour, ofc’)

keiji akaashi

♡ you 

♡ literally you 

♡ he doesn’t have a type but if he did, it would be you 

♡ bc you’re reading hcs on tumblr rn and as yk, he’s a bookworm

♡ (and i believe wholeheartedly that he read fanfic/hcs on tumblr too. probably harry potter/hunger games) 

♡ and also you’re reading his hcs which means you like him and he’s lost himself to unrequited love too many times so at least he knows you’re interested

♡ so yeah you check all the boxes:

☑ fanfic reader/bookworm

☑ watches anime

☑ pretty

☑ sweet

☑ actually likes him 

eita semi

♡ big tiddy goth gf with thick eyeliner, dyed hair and chains

♡ big tiddy isn’t necessary - he doesn’t objectify women ✨

♡ but anyway, they should also be willing to step on his throat and break all his bones with their demonias, upon being asked politely 

♡ spit in his mouth plz 🙏

♡ also an elite music is a must for him

♡ oh! and they should be willing to share their clothes/accessories with him (he’ll share his too ofc)

♡ a few other things he likes are: piercings, those little eyeliner hearts under the eyes, pink blush, thick eyebrows, black/dark purple lipstick, guitarist, drummers, singers (literally any sort of musician), platform shoes, alternative fashion in general, ppl who do DIYs, ppl who sew & ppl who cut/dye their own hair

♡ oh and like suga he is a slut for intelligence 

♡ and for powerful/confident women !!

♡ don’t get that confused with financial power-

♡ like proper powerful ppl that flick off a bigot on sight 

#tobio x you #oikawa toru x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi headcanons #kenma x y/n #semi eita #yamaguchi x reader #sugawara imagine #sugawara headcanon #tobio headcanons #oikawa headcanons #eita x reader #kenma headcanons #kenma x you #yamaguchi headcanons #pretty setter squad #notenoughcube

[theglowyscorpio]

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile  — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

#eren yeager #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #eren x you #eren x reader #aot smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin x reader #smut #eren #aot #ao3 #female reader #m/f ships #f/f fanfic #f/f smut #m/f smut #eren jaeger #snk x reader #snk #snk eren #aot fandom #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fandom #tw drugs #all set

[kurinoot]

[day 5] five creative songs | tsukishima kei

-> you know how much tsukishima listens to music most of the time no matter where he goes, so you thought of a way on how to confess your (hidden) feelings for him on valentines day, but will everything turned out as you thought it would be?

pairing: tsukishima x reader

themes: slight angst, takes place when you guys are second (or even third) years, mostly flirting playful banter, cliffhanger (?), too much salt, I guess 

wc: 1.5k

note: this one is kind of shorter compared to the previous valentines’ fic but please do anticipate the white day fic continuation of this one! please do tell me if you enjoyed this one, or if you have any criticisms or anything!

That’s it.

You’re not gonna make another Spotify stuff or whatever they call it again.

You never knew how hard it is to find song titles that matched your message to your liking without cringing until you planned and went to do it yourself.

“Finally!”, you grumbled as you found the last song for the playlist that you have set up for your crush on Valentines’ Day. You scratch your head in doubt, because you know for a fact that your crush is a salty bean, and even though you have the mental capacity to go head-to-head in a trash talk with him, the emotional wreck—you—says otherwise. For sure, he will most likely outright reject you, or something much worse like insulting your taste of music.

Even worse...

You have a crush on Kei Tsukishima.

You wondered yourself, of all the people you could’ve possibly have crushed on, it was that one cute salty beanpole that you chose. But on the plus side, you somehow developed a friendship with his freckled friend, who is kind of stuck in your situation, now helping you; which makes you wonder why is the softest boy in (probably) in the entirety of Karasuno High hanging out with the saltiest—even saltier than the ocean—beanpole.

“I think Tsukki will like that, just mind his words.”, Yamaguchi reassures you as he looks at the songs you have compiled for his best friend. He scrolls through the playlists, only to see a cohesive message forming from the titles of the songs. You immediately hear him giggle at the roster, which did not help your situation.

“Tadashi! You’re not helping!”, you pout at Yamaguchi’s response, who only then gave you a teasing giggle as you mentally breakdown.

“Sorry, Y/N.” He once again looked through your playlist, listening to one of the songs. “I may not be Tsukki, but I know he’ll probably like it.” He bobs his head to the rhythm of the music before you snorted at his response.

“Probably, my ass.”, you mutter to yourself as your hands rubbed your stressed temple while the both of you walked to the cafeteria.

Lunch break arrives as Yamaguchi went off to find the tall blonde as you went to the vending machine to buy milk. You look for your friend who, as usual, sits along with the salty french fry, as you call him. You hastily join their table with your bento in hand. Tsukishima notices your presence as you see him scowl as you pull a vacant chair to sit.

“Oh? Look what the cat dragged in, it’s you.” Tsukishima snarkily remarked, emphasizing on you with his eyes still focused on his food before glaring at you, giving you a snarky smirk. “I don’t even recall letting you in our little friend group, just because Yamaguchi’s your only friend.”

You looked at Yamaguchi for support in response to Tsukishima, “Am I not invited, Ta-da-shi~?”, you gave your saddest, cutest puppy eyes to Yamaguchi who could only look back and forth consecutively between the two of you before giving Tsukishima an apologetic look.

“Hah! 2 vs. 1, majority wins, Tsukki-poo.”, you snickered, sticking your tongue out as you sat down on the chair next to Yamaguchi. Tsukishima repeatedly tsk’ed in annoyance, looking at Tadashi.

“I don’t like that you’re close to this sham of a nigersaurus, Yamaguchi.”, Tsukishima nonchalantly blurts out as he notices your scowling face before snickering, arrogantly raising a brow.  ”Oh, sorry, I didn’t notice you were there.”

You could only raise an eyebrow at him, “Watch it, Tsk-ishima, you’re spitting too much salt, it might get to my food.” Tsukishima’s eye twitched irritatedly as he looked over you. “I don’t want my onigiri tasting like trash.” You ate your onigiri as you stared deadpan at Tsukishima, scoffing as he scowled at you.

Yamaguchi could only do so much to stop your senseless trash talking as he just laughed at your usual banter, resuming eating his lunch.

“Now now, settle down you two… I’m sure Tsukki doesn’t mean that way, Y/N. Right, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi says as he looked at Tsukishima for affirmation, scoffing as the blocker looked away annoyedly, as you did also.

To his surprise, the both of you decided to just eat your heart out instead of grabbing everyone’s attention, as the tension at your table was suffocating that even the other passersby were taking notice of the awkwardness between you and Tsukishima as you both resumed eating.

“You know what, let me just powder my nose. There’s some salt all over my face, and it’s irritating me.”, you say as you abruptly stand and give Tsukishima a mocking face to which he snickers in reply.

“Oh, Y/N, can I borrow your phone again?” Yamaguchi asks, giving him the thumbs up before leaving for the comfort room. He takes your phone from your bag as he scrolls down to the playlist that you created, searching for a specific song. Tsukishima, surprised at the closeness between you and Yamaguchi and curious at the contents of your phone, intrigues him as he leaned towards the budding pinch server, who was too occupied with checking your playlist. He then grabs your phone out of his best friend’s hands, much to Yamaguchi’s shock. Tsukishima’s face contorted disgustingly as he saw his name on the playlist.

“Tsukki! I-”

“Why is my name in here?”, Tsukishima asked with a bitter tone in his voice as he looked through your ‘Valentines’ playlist and his name in one sentence. Yamaguchi panickingly tried to take back your phone, but without success.

“Tsukki! Give her phone back! Please!”, he desperately reaches out for your phone as Tsukishima dodges his hands. Yamaguchi wished to be tall for once as he cursed internally for being clumsy that he shouldn’t have done it. He shouldn’t have scrolled through your phone to look for that 5 Seconds of Summer song.

Tsukishima scrolled through the playlist, feeling even more disgusted at the thought of your cheesy antics. Much to his displeasure, his cheeks started to heat up,  which would’ve been obvious if it weren’t for the sunlight peeking through the classroom windows.

“Hey! W-Why do you have my phone?!”, you stutter as you made your presence known to the two. You could only see Yamaguchi a bit shaken, covering his mouth in shock as he could only watch everything unravel before his eyes.

Tsukishima breaks the ice, teasing you to cover up his embarrassed state, “I knew you have bad taste in music, but I never knew it would be THIS bad. And what’s with this cheesy antic?”

“It’s the message in the titles that count — that’s not the point!”, you could only grumble and stutter in reply, with your cheeks going on full red in both anger and embarrassment.

“You should have your ears checked next time if you’re listening to these.”, Tsukishima laughs as he shoves back your phone to you before he starts walking away.

Your teeth seethed in anger as your hands tightened on your phone, trying to grasp what remains of your dignity. “I-If you think your taste in music is better, why don't you show me yours, huh?!”

With a snap, Tsukishima halted and turned to look at you, bitterly irritated before his facade quickly changed to the most irritating mocking smile you’ve ever seen.

“What’s that?” He asks, calmly.

“I didn’t quite catch what you said over your whimpering, Y/N.” His tone was venomous, particularly at the mention of your name. You never saw him this pissed, let alone, him saying your name in a rather hostile tone. He hastily approached you and with each step, your heart pounded faster against your chest. Your brain is shouting at you to run away, but your body can't; you feel your sweat run cold as Tsukishima approaches you. In an instant, he forcibly grabs your arm and slams you to the wall.

“Hey! What was that for—”, your sentence was cut short as his long arms locked you to the wall as he closed the distance between the two of you. The closeness made your heart race faster as your blood rose in each minute to your cheeks, his breath tingling against your skin.

You see the shift of his face to a smirk, his hand on your chin forcibly making you look at him, directly at his amber eyes. “So, you actually like me, eh?” He suddenly drew closer to your ear.

“Y/N?”

You compelled yourself to not whimper at the moment, looking away from him as he narrowly stares at you for a while before he lets you go and goes out of the classroom like nothing happened. Your legs were threatening to fall weakly to the floor, staring into nothingness as Yamaguchi, who usually follows Tsukishima afterwards, was now trying to knock some sense back into you.

“Y/N! Y/N!”, you hear Tadashi shaking you gently.

Your heart could only beat in a combination of embarrassment and anxiety, and the butterflies in your stomach weren’t helping either as the background noise in your ears disappeared. Even if Yamaguchi was at your side, calming you down, you still felt Tsukishima’s lingering presence as you caressed your cheek, feeling the heat from earlier; your teeth seething in anger.

“Damn you Tsukishima!”

back to valentines masterlist

#witchy.writes #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #valentines #haikyuu valentines #haikyuu fics #haikyuu imagines #14 days of valentine

[vickylamore]

NCT reactions to another making a move on his crush

A/n - Oooh my first request of the night... I have a few more but it rather is late and I’ll complete them later on tonight or after my classes. These are reactions and also scenarios... more on the reactions side oop. I hope you enjoy it!!

➼ Requested? - Yes:  Can i request a nct (all units? or just wayv) reaction to another making a move on his crush??? Thank you! ➼ Pairing - NCT (all members individually) x Gender Neutral Reader ➼ Genre - Idol and Non Idol AU! (depending on the member) Fluff ➼ WC - 2.8k ➼ Warnings - None... jealousy is heavy though... a LitTlE jEaloUSy ➼ Rating - PG-13

Masterlist

(Read More after Taeyong + The gifs are their reactions or as close to it).

Taeyong

Bubu wouldn’t know how to react. He probably would stand there, his mouth wide open while the younger aged boy was flirting with you. He would also have a mixed reaction. But not one that you thought he would have. He would be mainly shocked but also confused as he stared at the young boy flirting with you. He didn’t want to confront you yet… but he did to ask if you were dating. He had known you for four years mainly because you were a barista at his favourite coffee shop. He couldn’t help but be hurt... Like the smallest bit of hurt because he thought you both were close enough to tell each other if you had found a s/o.

Yes, he was jealous… just a bit though.

But then he became flustered when he learned that the young boy was your brother. Yes, enter awkward and embarrassed Lee Taeyong right now.

“Oh! That’s your brother… see I knew that *blushes awfully hard*. I did though!”

Taeil

I feel like Taeil would see you talking with someone at an award and would walk away  (my heart breaks into a million pieces). He actually wanted to talk to you about something but he had to go get ready for a performance with 127. When he came back, the smile he once had just fell and he turned back. 

His confidence in himself would just plummet. He would stay silent and wouldn’t be in the mood to talk to the other members. That is until you caught up to him a short while later and hugged him since you saw how upset he was. You assured him that you and the other idol were just friends, nothing happening between you both.

His once horribly declining confidence was racing back up as you both talked the entire night. 

“Oh, you saw that? And are you sure you guys aren’t anything more?”

Johnny

Detective Johnny everyone. Because of your job as their manager, it wasn’t rare to see you talking to other colleagues but this one time when they were about to get into a car to get to a variety show, you and another SM worker had been talking for nearly half an hour waiting for the transport. Of course, Johnny being Johnny went to figure out what you two were… in the most suspicious way possible.

He wouldn’t even try to deny the climbing jealousy in his chest. When he learned you both were simply old friends, he whisked you away as if you guys had to leave (which wasn’t the case) and basically started small talk with you about anything just so you don’t wander off (not to mention he started flirting with you instead).

“Oooh look at the sky, it’s so blue and pretty.”

“The sky is always blue-”

“But it isn’t as pretty as you.”

Yuta

Ayo, YOUR SCORPIO SIDE IS SHOWING- Yuta doesn’t care if someone is hitting on you while you both are at a party. No sir. Yuta could literally give two shits if you're having a flirtatious talk with someone. He will swoop in to “rescue” you and come up with any excuse to stop you from going back.

He isn’t doing it out of spit, if anything he’s more scared of losing you to someone else because he still can’t bring himself to confess (despite what he did up above). Plus, he thinks it’s cute seeing you all worked up over him pulling you away.

“This drink is really good, it’s sweet but strong at the same time. Reminds me of you.”

Kun

Honestly, he would try to avert any kind of situation where you and another person are flirting… he’d look then close his eyes, pretending he didn’t see anything. He doesn’t do ‘social gatherings’ nor ‘talking to other people except people I know’. But he did step out of his bubble when you were getting annoyed with this one cashier who wouldn’t just… shut up about you. He knew you were trying to be nice but your patience, which you had a lot of, was now growing thin.

It even made him uncomfortable. Throw away the ‘I do not associate myself with your little love gatherings’ to ‘move aside, lovestruck Kun is here’. Did he regret what he said? A little bit… he just hoped that you finally realized that he liked you.

“Please stop talking to my fiancee that way, thank you.”

Doyoung

HONESTLY SPEAKING, HE WOULD THINK YOU WERE ASKING FOR HIS HELP- he wouldn’t necessarily get mad but he would help you get away from the bartender at the club flirting with you… telling the worker numerous times that you weren’t interested. That being said, he saw it more as a chance to help you out of the situation and that alone overclouded his sense of jealousy. 

“Um, no, no, no, no… back off. Get the words ‘not interested’ into that thick skull of yours.”

Ten

Ten doesn’t do crushes… it’s either you go out with him or not. But of course, he wanted to play hard to get with you (it was Ten after all). I can assure you he was smiling the entire time when someone was trying to hit on you while you told the fellow passenger on the bus to leave you alone. He found it amusing, seeing you get annoyed and he wasn’t worried at all… especially knowing that he’s your type. But his amused smile quickly turned sour when the passenger started flirting a little too… let’s say, extreme for his taste.

His smile turned into a scowl as he sighed loudly, making the fellow passenger glance at him but focused back on you. He laughed under his breath, a sarcastic tone already forming in his voice.

“Can you leave? Don’t think of it like a goodbye, rather, think of it like a chance to stop bothering us *innocent smile*.”

Jaehyun

Mainly upset you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as he dropped NUMEROUS hints that he liked you. He did get more upset with the person who had approached you while you both waited for your flight, asking you for your number. Jaehyun would just get more angrier every second, overdramatically rolling his eyes.

It eventually got so bad that he had to walk towards you and pull you away, not because the person was being rude or anything but because he just got annoyed and did everything he could to get the person away from you.

“Yo, your flight’s about to take off.”

Winwin

Soft… awkward baby who would just admire you from a distance. He didn’t want to interrupt your conversation with the college student but he also didn’t want to keep watching you unknowingly flirt with the scholar -one of the reasons he thinks you’re absolutely oblivious but he thinks it’s cute-. He’d just stand there all awkward, his hands shoved in his pocket and would just get bored, maybe even start kicking rocks -and so not on purpose fling one at your foot- to get your attention.

His shyness still stops him from confessing any sort of affection regarding you. Isn’t gonna stop him from hanging around you though and maybe will do something cute to confess to you. For now though, he was getting bored of waiting.

“Hey (Y/n), there’s a new movie coming out. I think the TWO of us should go watch it together.”

Jungwoo

At this moment, skinship is his best friend. Skinship is the one thing that gets anyone to back off. Jungwoo is very passive-aggressive in these situations since he only wants what's best for you… which is him. Anytime someone would even try to have a normal conversation with you, he’d just start hugging you from behind or intertwined his fingers with yours.

This time you both were having a beach day with some friends and he had come up to you and rested his chin on your head. You didn’t think anything of it but the person you were talking to thought you both were together and quickly took off. This finished with you being very confused and Jungwoo smiling like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re so warm *snuggles into you while watching the person leave*, let’s go swimming!”

Lucas 

Truly is the definition of a baby stuck in an adult's (very handsome and amazing adult) body. The first few times it happened, he’d sulk and pout. But now? If someone did try to flirt with you, key word TRY, they couldn’t. Why not? Because Lucas would do everything in his power to stop them. And somehow, you were completely oblivious about his actions.

He tried so hard… only because he wanted you to figure it out for yourself. But it was hard for you both when you didn’t catch onto what he wanted to tell you. He was just waiting because he knows eventually you’ll catch onto what he’s doing.

“Um, sorry, we’re actually dating? Yeah. Oh since when? A year. (it definitely hasn’t been a year since he had a crush on you, no, not Lucas).”

Mark

He truly tried his best to stop you or anyone else from figuring out that he likes you. And oh boy, he tried so hard. It’s actually sad because for all the times you asked to hang out he blamed his absence on his really busy schedule. But finally when he got tired of standing you up, he took you out on a date to a restaurant (he called it an outing but he really hoped you saw it as a date). Of course, everything was going well until the chef started flirting with you.

Now I don’t know about you, but I do NOT! EVER! WANT! to see Mark mad. But he was… because this was his one chance to make it up to you. 

“Excuse me, can I please order one round of Go away? Thank you!”

Xiaojun

Cranky (hehehe *coughs*). No but Xiaojun doesn’t do jealousy- you won’t find him jealous about anything… unless it’s about you BUT still. The main vocalist just doesn’t show jealousy and masks it with being cold and cranky. You think it’s cute (which is why he keeps doing it). But it’s not cute when he gets an attitude when someone wouldn’t stop pestering you at an ice cream parlor.

Xiaojun already knows that if he tried, he could chase the person away with a glare but when that doesn’t work, he just sighs under his breath (he’ll also start sulking if you don’t leave with him in the next few minutes).

“Haha, (Y/n), you can’t even go out without someone bothering you *glares*.”

Hendery

Oh boy.

He saw someone make a move on you? No. Not on his watch. Because you both were best friends (yes the best friend falls in love with his other best trope… sue me) it wasn’t uncommon for you both to embarrass the hell out of each other.

Today was just a tad bit different. You both were at an art gallery and there was this one particular worker that always wanted to talk to you when you both visited the gallery. Hendery, being Hendery, didn’t think much of it at first but then quickly picked up on the worker’s intentions. So what did he do?

“*Barks* Grr- oh sorry, (Y/n) and I have our own little language we invited when we were four. A language you wouldn’t understand, sorry.”

Renjun

It was actually the first time you were hit on, while you both were at a library. It was truly an experience for you both. Renjun was more surprised if anything, not because he was shocked that someone hit on you (because you’re amazing and beautiful asf) but because he had never seen it happen before. Plus, he didn’t think anyone would try since he unofficially declared he had a crush on you. Let’s just say it was more awkward for him than for you. Eventually, he got you away from the person, an awkward smile on his face.

“Yeah, we gotta go? Oh where? U-uh… somewhere you can’t go, yeah!”

Jeno

Chileeee….. This baby is… um? Territorial? NOT IN THaT WaY. But let’s say he considers you his without making it official :). That being said, you’ve noticed a lot more hugging and head kisses from him. Because you didn’t see him all the time because of his career, you end up at the pet shop all the time. Knowing that, he took you there to buy you a small little doggo (and we stan). He was happy to see you happy.

Until the worker started asking you a bunch of questions and went as far as to ask you for your phone number. I don’t know if Jeno would be annoyed and pissed but probably both… at the same time. Aggressive? No. Jealous? Yes.

“Sorry, we’re here for a dog… if anything, I think my phone number looks better on the phone’s contact list. Oops… it’s already there. Thankfully, yours isn’t.”

Haechan 

Didn’t realize he had a crush on you until someone hit you on accident while you both were walking down the street. And it made his jealousy bloom even more when you started having small talk with the baker, who was running late on to work. He couldn’t blame you for being nice but he  wanted to bark- didn’t appreciate the smile the baker sent you.

Call him whatever you want but he couldn’t just stand there doing nothing but he also didn’t want to tell you to hurry up so a devilish smirk played on his lips.

“Aren’t you running late? Yeah? Oh okay, that’s what I thought *smile*.”

Jaemin

I think that he would be like Jungwoo… very much passive aggressive with a dash of more aggressive. He made the world know he had a crush on you and as you both were idols. That being said, it wasn’t uncommon to you both having fanboys. He thought that he made it clear to everyone BUT you that he liked you and he wanted to ask you out. Of course, he wouldn’t stop anyone from shooting their shot but the guy in front of him just irked him for some reason.

He was very… let’s say enthusiastic with his words. They were said in a happy/cute tone but the words themselves were harsh. He didn’t mean them on purpose! He just didn’t want the boy at the fansign to take too long so others could go (part of the reason… very very small part of the reason).

“Excuse me? I think Jeno-hyung is waiting for you? Why don’t you flirt with him! Aah, I’m just joking haha.”

Yangyang

He hangs out with Ten; the snarky comments just come naturally to him. Would actually love to see how you handle yourself because he knew you had snarky comments of your own (which totally isn’t one of 100 reasons he likes you). Quickly became annoyed when the college student kept pushing you to give your number. He didn’t want to create a scene because he was a model student BUT he wasn’t going to let the student get away with it.

He usually doesn’t get annoyed as fast, being the smiley person he is but WHEW lemme tell you the heat he brought when the person wouldn’t leave you alone. Even got you proud to be so close with Yangyang.

“Hey Doggo, if I threw a stick would you go away? No? Then why are you acting like one?”

Chenle

LOUD POUTY BABY. Would let you know he was upset that you were talking to someone that wasn’t him… not in the way he wanted attention… he was just jealous when a certain trainee always wanted to talk to you. Like always. He was okay with it at first but it became a lot more frequent… and he didn’t like that.

So what did he do? Screamed on the top of his lungs each time the trainee was around you. It wasn’t mean! It was just a tactic he loves using.

“(Y/N)!!! I’M HUNGRY aND TIRED! Buy me food please *pouting face*.”

Jisung

Baby alert, I said whiny baby alert. Nct Dream party where you, his best and only friend from school, were invited to. You had left his side for one second and a trainee, one that was in fact older than you both, approached you and started hitting on you.

Jisung would probably just stare at you both, pouting the entire time until you walked back to him. He would whine the entire time, asking questions like why would you leave him for someone you barely knew? Very much whiny baby just because he didn’t want to tell you about his crush in fear it would ruin your relationship.

“But why? Why not stay with me?”

#nct #nct 127 #nct127 #nct dream #wayv #vickylamore #vickywritings #nct reactions #nct scenarios #kpop #taeyong #taeil #johnny suh #yuta #doyoung #jungwoo #jaehyun #sicheng #ayo the gifs #are #so #cute #hendery #park jisung #yangyang #jeno #renjun #chenle #jaemin #haechan

[shoichee]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Hizaki Shogo X F!reader fic where Hizaki walks into his s/o holding onto a picture frame of them both and singing "Love Like you" and maybe a soft fluffy ending?🥺💕 Reader is usually hyper and happy go lucky but at that moment reader is calm and just so soft that they look at the picture frame with the softest eyes and that makes Hizaki feel warm? Hope you have a Nice Day/Night! Thank you!!

i spy a haizaki fan over here~ okay, i am very very sorry it took very long to get this out, but i hope i wrote him well D: to be honest, he’s the most complicated guy to write for by far and while i dont think its crazy toothrotting fluffy compared to my other scenarios, i hope you enjoy this too!

Haizaki x Reader

Word Count: 1990

Note: swearing, and is a LITTLE BIT risque? i mean, this is haizaki

»»—————　☼　—————««

You two were only supposed to be friends with benefits.

You definitely weren’t his type. Nope, you definitely weren’t. Not when you endlessly made so much clamoring in the hallways with your friends or bounced around like a kid on sugar. It definitely leaves a sour taste in his mouth when you are a literal carbon-copy of Kise Ryouta, someone who he absolutely despised.

Yet, it’s probably how he can render you to a completely different side of soft whimpers and gasps in every tryst for the past two months that made it all worth the effort of chasing after you. Besides, he knows you reciprocate the same level of desire for him, and it gives him a massive boost of an ego. Especially when you actually use your annoying voice for something more worthwhile than socializing with your classmates… especially when you rasp out his name in desperation in such vulnerable moments. He constantly feeds on your vulnerability like it’s his lifeline, but he will never admit that.

So why is it that he’s so taken aback when he sees, yet, another different side to you, the usual sickenly energetic side he’s secretly grown accustomed to?

“If I could begin to be… half of what you think of me…”

He doesn’t know whether to be disgusted about the fact that he feels bad for intruding on something that feels so intimate and pure or the fact that he’s craving more of this side of you, the side that he’s afraid is all an illusion in his mind that he’s somehow concocted in a fever dream. The gentle lullaby you were humming irritates him all the more, yet he’s glued in his spot, so torn about whether to rudely interrupt you to demand for another escapade or relish in the lulls that is undoubtedly soothing him.

“I could do about anything… I could even learn to love…”

Somehow, the lyrics affected him on a personal level, and he grits his teeth, hating the fact that he relates to it so deeply. Here you are, humming the soft jazz as a smile of absolute adoration spreads across your lips. Lips that he’s all too familiar with yet a complete stranger to. He doesn’t know whether to feel smug or remorse when he sees that you're admiring the selfie you took of the both of you the other day on a whim. Smug because at least he knows you’re completely whipped for him. Remorse… because it almost makes the two of you look like an actual couple… something that he’s not too keen on, yet he’s been toying with that idea recently whenever he meets up with you. It feels so wrong that someone like you is so heavily entangled with someone like him, but he wants to monopolize all of that for himself all the same.

“I always thought I might be bad…

Now I'm sure that it's true…

'Cause I think you're so good…

And I'm nothing like you…”

It was just a song, he knew it, yet it feels like you truly felt that about yourself. He never understood you even after all those times you’ve met up, all those times he’s stripped you to your most defenseless state. He thought he can figure you out like the past girls he’s been with… their games, their desires, their motives. He hates it; your entire being pisses him off and intrigues him all the same, and he wants more of you. He doesn’t understand… don’t you know what he’s capable of doing to you? Have you not heard of what he’s done to others? Why do you still treat him so… normally?

“... I wish that I knew…

What makes you think I'm so special…”

Does he think you’re special? He doesn’t know, but he can admit that you’re the longest fling he’s had so far. He scoffs and spits to ward off a stray thought that crossed his mind, the intrusive thought that you emanate the same inviting warmth like his single mother. The only warmth he’s ever sought out was the body heat of another girl in the heat of passion; such a want of intimate warmth, like the one he was experiencing right now, has always been so foreign and uncomfortable.

“E-Eek!! H-How long have you been here?!” Haizaki snaps out of his thoughts to face a mortified you clutching your phone close to your chest. There was the side of you he’s always known.

“Hah? Do you think so highly of yourself that you think anyone would fucking waste their time to eavesdrop on you?” he sneers, watching you only roll your eyes at him. You only walk closer to him while Haizaki watches your every move like a hawk with his narrow eyes.

“You’re the only one who would spit so damn loudly,” you say. “You really oughta stop doing that. It’s gross.” He only rudely scoffs at you before he turns his back on you.

“I just came to look for you for a quickie,” Haizaki says, licking his thumb like he usually does. “7 p.m. if we’re doing it.”

“Ah, before you leave!” you call out to him. “What do you want for your bento?”

“What.” Haizaki slightly halts in his place before he turns his face to you with a condescending sneer, but you can see the slight confusion swirling in his eyes. “Are you fucking shitting me right now?”

“No, I’m absolutely not!” you loudly huff. “I’m actually serious! You picked such a later time than usual, and I’m not gonna go starve myself just for sex. So do potato wedges sound good?” Haizaki only narrows his eyes at you, wondering why you go through such lengths for such a short-term relationship. He gives a mirthless chuckle.

“Whatever you’re doing won’t make me stick by your side like a loyal dog, I hope you realize that,” he says. “Don’t go crying off when you see me having fun with another girl.” In truth, he hasn’t really thought about flirting off to another female for months since he’s met you, but at least he wants to put it out on the table that if you were indeed looking for something serious… then he wasn’t the right guy for you.

“I know,” you say shrugging casually. “Everyone knows who you are after all. I figured you’d be hungry if I am too.”

“No one’s a glutton like you.”

“Yeah? Well you still find me attractive enough despite that.” You give a satisfied smirk of your own when Haizaki merely turns away to walk. “What, Haizaki? No comeback for this one?”

He stops to give a hard glare. “All your yapping made me not want to fuck you anymore. I’m gonna chill at the arcade.”

“Ooh! Ooh!” you hoot excitedly, stars shining in your eyes. It seems that his other comment completely unphased you. “Let me come too! Please?” Even despite his rebukes, you hold your own against him and even make them backfire against him. Even despite him knowing that he’s a terrible influence, you still shine so brightly.

“... You’re paying for your own tokens. Don’t expect me to give you a single dime.”

“You really think I’m a freeloader?!”

“I might just take some of your coins, too,” he leers, again licking his thumb. “Don’t go crying either if you get left behind like a dolt.”

“If you do that,” you threaten, crossing your arms, “I’m gonna steal your coins too! Plus, you stick out like a sore thumb! I can easily find you anywhere, y’know!”

Haizaki doesn’t bother to reply and keeps on walking further before you gasp and chase after him.

“H-H-Hey!! We’re going now?! I thought we're still meeting at 7?” He merely tunes you out, but you knew he slowed down his pace for you to catch up, albeit slightly. “W-Wait! But like… I won’t have time to make the bento, and—”

“Shut up, (y/n),” he says. “Fast food exists for a reason.” Why would someone like you go through so much effort to make homemade food for someone like him? He feels somewhat better that at least he wouldn’t feel the tiny guilt of taking your bento off your hands. You widen your eyes like you just realized that restaurants existed.

“Oh yeah, huh!”

“You’re paying for your own shit, too.”

“Well, duh!”

Haizaki continues to stroll with his bag slung over his shoulder, not even remotely sparing you a glance, but he knows you’re right behind him when you’re skipping around so excitedly. Was being with him that enjoyable to you? He hasn’t done anything remotely kind to you.

“Hey, hey, Haizaki!” He continues to ignore you. “Doesn’t this feel like a date to you?”

“Keep dreaming, wench.”

“You’re a royal asshole, you know that?” you sigh, still trying to match his stride. Haizaki is very much aware of who he is. What he doesn’t know is why you still keep sticking to him like a remoraid.

“Why are you so annoying?”

Translation: Why are you persistent in being with me?

You seem to know the hidden meaning of his throwaway question, and Haizaki frowns harshly at how sharp you were.

“I don’t know. You’re the more obnoxious person in everyone’s eyes anyways,” you snicker. “Still, don’t you ever get tired of hearing people talk shit about you?”

Translation: Why do you act like this?

“You really know how to get on my nerves. Shut up if you know what’s good for you. I don’t know who’s gonna break it to you, but I’m not the guy who you think so highly of.”

“I never said that about you though,” you frown. “Unless… you really did eavesdrop on me after all?!”

“Tch.” He only walks faster to try to leave you behind, and you immediately run in a panic to catch up.

“Okay, okay! I’m kidding, alright?!” you say, but both of you knew that you were secretly smug about it. He’s starting to regret bringing you along, but deep down, he thinks it’s the best decision he’s made in a long time. Still, he’s more irked when you begin to shamelessly hum the same song, the one you sung moments before, to gleefully tick him off.

Even through his nasty attitude, for the first time, you had a taste of different sides to Haizaki in the arcade. The side of him that genuinely enjoyed being competitive with you during various rounds, even with his usual jeers… the side of him who always puts himself on the outside of the sidewalks when it got dark… the side of him who tried to teach you the workings of some of the games, albeit in a condescending way… the side of him who waited for you to finish your food at the tables, even if he kept making unnecessary comments on your appetite. Haizaki doesn’t know why he’s doing these things… perhaps he wanted to feel what it’s like to be in a committed relationship? Perhaps he wanted another taste of the same feeling he had felt when he first heard you sing?

There was something so innocent about this entire “date,” that both of you couldn’t help but wanted to learn more about each other. For the first time, Haizaki lets his guard down around you, and when he's so entertained in your presence, he suddenly doesn’t care as much about it. Your relationship was far from perfect, but between the two of you being a complete mismatch, there was a spark of something undeniably genuine and pure… the intimate warmth that Haizaki had lacked and craved for so long.

Even just for now… he wants to hold the fantasy of being in a committed relationship with you close to his heart for as long as he can. He sometimes wishes he could hear you sing again, only for him, to feel the gentle lulls again.

#knb #knb x reader #kuroko no basket #knb scenarios #knb fics #knb fic #haizaki shougo #haizaki #haizaki shogo #haizaki shougo x reader #haizaki x reader #knb fluff #fluff if you squint #REALLY SQUINT

[ramblinganthropologist]

Fictober 21 - 4 “Fine I give up”

Fanfiction

Fandom: Mass Effect (Actor AU)

Summary: Yep. They fucked - so much for his self control, huh? Now Macen has to deal with the fallout, and more importantly, his feelings. Maybe it wasn’t just sex after all. Did he mention he was bad at ad-lib?

(Don’t worry folks, the confession will come another day... I’m tired, lol.)

---

…

You know that part where he said he was going to break things off? Yeah… the opposite of that had happened.

Macen was careful to sit up as he glanced across the darkened room. Next to him, fast asleep and burrowed under the covers, was his costar. Alex’s face was peaceful as he wandered through his dreams, like he hadn’t just fucked the turian within an inch of his life. Baby faces were damn deceptive that way, and he was proving to be a fine example.

His body was sore in that way he enjoyed oh so much as he slid out of bed, distributing his weight so he didn’t wake the human up. Naked as the day he was born, he padded to Alex’s shower and got in. Human showers were always too damn cold for him, but it didn’t matter as he let the water pour down his carapace as he stood there, standing at the drain.

“You said you weren’t going to do it again…”

And that promise had crumbled like a sandcastle on the beach the moment Alex had looked at him with that expression. After that, it was a blur of tossed clothing, roving hands, and tongues that were still learning how to play nicely with each other. Part of him was glad he had clipped his talons the day before… but that was like admitting defeat in itself.

Fuck… he had fucked up.

He sighed as he rested his head against the shower wall, praying for the freezing water to snap some sense into him. Macen knew he should leave the moment he was dry and had found his pants, but a large part of him just wanted to go back to bed. They had to be on set early tomorrow. He’d be wasting valuable sleep time if he went back to his place. Besides, Alex was closer…

And they’d risk showing up together.

“No, you’re going home after this. It’ll just mean more coffee tomorrow.”

Yet his voice wavered as he washed the soap disappear down the drain. Even then, he was doubting himself. Right then, it felt like he was fighting a war against an unholy combination of his sex drive and… well he didn’t want to mention the other organ. It shouldn’t have had a say in this in all. Really, if anything, his situation was his brain’s fault. Damn thing had gotten used to the human…

Yeah… he had totally meant his brain.

“Alright, get in there and say goodbye.”

The water shut off and Macen dried off in silence. Still naked, he padded back to the bed. Unsurprisingly, Alex was still fast asleep, hugging a bit of the blanket as he dreamed. He looked so peaceful, that it almost seemed cruel to wake him up.

But… he couldn’t just go without saying anything. They had moved past the fuck and leave point months ago.

“Shit…” Macen’s expletive hissed out from between his teeth as he looked around for his pants. At least those he could find – halfway across the room. What could he say, Alex was an enthusiastic partner. Add in the training, and he had reach. No wonder people kept trying to get him to sign up for friendly biotiball matches. “Just… get them and say goodbye.”

Yet when he reached down, he could see the human’s face better. Something about how soft and quiet he looked did terrible things to his stomach, and his pants dropped to the floor with a soft thump. Unfortunately for him, his belt buckle hit first – the metal clang rang out like a shotgun blast.

Shit…

“Mmm…” Alex rolled onto his stomach and burrowed under the blanket. “S’cold… come back to bed, Macen.”

Now, at the moment the turian was definitely not in a sub headspace. If he had been, that could have explained his compulsion to stay. Yet, there was nothing like that in the moment. Something else was leading him back to the bed he had been trying so hard to avoid. It was a powerful urge, and he had no ability to resist.

“I’m coming…” He slid back in, pulling the cover back over his naked body. As soon as he had settled back in, Alex’s arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close. He could feel the human’s heart on his back, and it made his beat faster as his mouth went dry. “Alex?”

“Too cold…” Then there was a sleepy yawn as he nuzzled into his back. “Night…”

Macen’s stomach bubbled as he felt himself leaning into the touch. Logic was screaming at him to do anything, but he was ignoring it then. Instead, he felt his eyes slowly close as the warmth of Alex’s body and his off-beat heart lured him back to sleep. In the morning he would regret this, but at the moment he didn’t care. Right then, there was just the bed and the warm embrace of the man he had come to…

He could deal with that thought later. Much later.

---

“They totally came to the set together.”

“Do you think those rumors were true after all?”

Nothing like crew rumors to make Macen regret being born.

It was finally time for some food after a long morning of filming. Just like he had feared, he and Alex had wound up heading to work together. To say people were talking was putting it mildly. He wouldn’t be surprised if it had already wound up on social media, though he had no ability to check. After the last two disasters he called relationships, he had gotten rid of the entire thing.

Honestly, he didn’t miss the memes. Plus, it gave him a mysterious edge. It was good PR.

Still, his carapace itched as he shot the two humans a glare as he passed. He still had enough bad boy reputation that they scattered like ants, but it didn’t do much more than soothe his prickled ego. In that moment, he had probably confirmed everything they had been whispering about.

What… no one had ever claimed he was smart.

“Fuck…” Macen sighed as he found a quiet place to settle in and eat. Doing so with the mandible implants was a little difficult, but he had figured it out with trial and error. It was good he had too – makeup had been getting annoyed with him. Now at least he was back in their good graces, which was what anyone should want in his line of work.

“Yeah, I’d be saying that too if I was you.”

A shadow had fallen over the turian, and he didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. There were only two people on set who went around in all black armor on the regular, and one of them definitely didn’t set him in shade like that. Just the sound of her voice made his stomach drop.

Talk about going from the frying pan to the fire…

Beau took a seat nearby, her eyes laser focused on him. It made it hard for Macen to swallow his lunch, but he did his best. Honestly, it wasn’t the best idea – it felt like he was swallowing concrete. At least it didn’t actually get stuck, but maybe that death would’ve been preferable to whatever she had planned for him. He’d had a good life… mostly…

“Afternoon, Beau…” Even he knew that was a faulty opening, but Macen had committed to the bit. “Can I help you?”

Another glance as she sipped from a can of soda. “Just wondering when you’re going to ask Alex out and get it over with. You two have been dancing around this for way too long.”

Macen was glad he hadn’t been eating at that point – if he had, he would’ve sprayed levo crumbs everywhere, and as far as he knew she was allergic. Instead, he just choked on his own spit and wound up coughing. To say it wasn’t his finest moment was putting it mildly at best, but at the moment it was all he could do.

At least she had enough heart to thump him on the carapace a few times. It wasn’t going to do anything – he wasn’t human – but it was the thought that counted.

“Don’t die on me, Virius. Garrus was a nightmare to find someone for, or at least that’s what I heard.”

He coughed a few more times, eyes watering. Words were hard, but doable. “I’m not… we’re not…”

Yet there was the feelings in his stomach squirming about in the mere mention of the man he more often than not found himself in bed with. He was adult enough to admit they had moved past simple sex, but… this was something else entirely.

And it was a dark, nasty road, one he knew way too well to be comfortable with anymore.

“I see the way you look at each other. Besides, you’re over each other’s places so much you might as well just fucking move in.” When he gaped, Beau added, “We text each other. I can tell when he’s getting laid, his messages stop and then he’s all relaxed after.”

Damn Alex for being so obvious in his tells…

Macen managed to straighten up, but his heart was still pounding. “It’s… complicated, ok?”

“Because you’re making it that way. You were an ass, get over it and get with it before you regret it.” Beau took another sip from her can. “Unless you’re still thinking this is just a sex thing.”

No… even he knew that one. And even thinking of that made him sigh as he hung his head. It was impossible to ignore the feelings that had been plaguing him for quite some time. To admit it was, in a way, admitting defeat in a war against himself. It was one he had tried to win for so long, yet he was seeing the last of his defenses crumble with every touch, every smile, every time Alex so much as looked at him.

He may have been a turian… but he knew he was beaten.

“Alright, fine … I give up.” His mandibles twitched. “I like the guy, ok?”

Part of him had expected the words to taste bitter on his tongue. Defeat was supposed to be something like that, and yet it was the complete opposite. Macen was surprised to find he felt lighter with just a few words. Of course, that didn’t last long – as soon as there was room, worry filled the place denial had once been.

He never got a fucking moment’s rest.

Beau shook her head as she put her can down. “I hope your delivery’s better when you tell him, Virius. How the hell did you get an award for acting?”

“I never said I was good at ad lib.” Despite everything, he snorted. It was a little bitter and self-depreciating, but it was still a laugh. “That’s going to take more work. I have no idea what to say to him.”

Something about this made him feel like a stupid teenager again, crushing on the cute boy in his class before either of them wound up in basic. He was far too old for something like this, and yet the feelings were so familiar he couldn’t deny it. Despite how hard he had tried, he had damn well caught feelings for Alex.

Well… at least his taste had improved. The guy in his math class had turned out to be a real dickhead.

“That I can’t help you with, Virius.” Beau stood, once again enveloping him in shadow. “But, lucky for you he’s coming this way. Time to work on those ad-lib skills.”

In that moment, Macen could have sworn she smirked as she left him behind to go fuck with someone else’s day. Even worse, she was right – he could see Alex in the distance and judging by the speed he had been spotted by the human and was now being targeted.

Shit… he hadn’t been kidding. He had always been terrible at ad-lib. But… there was no way out of this except through it. All he could do was brace himself for impact and hope he didn’t get tossed like a biotiball during a champion match.

For all he knew, Alex was capable of that now. Wouldn’t that be a way to go… death by being yeet’d by his crush into a wall. Well, there were worse ways he supposed…

Fuck, he so wasn’t ready for this. Fuck…

#fictober21 #ramblinganthropologist's writing #shakarian #the actor AU

[welllpthisishappening]

21 for the kiss prompts. because I am me LOL

Alright, so, full disclosure, this is not CS fic. I was going to write CS fic for this. i was! I had this vaguely angsty Emma gets hurt and Killian loses his mind thing happening, but then—I didn’t write that. Instead, here’s Will Scarlet gets hurt and Belle French loses her mind and it’s hockey. It’s 2,000 words! I don’t know how that happened. Anyway, the prompt here was “bloody kiss” and I love Will Scarlet with the force of a thousand suns. If you guys want to send more kiss prompts, I’m still waiting for people to respond to my emails.

“You’re mad.”

“Your powers of deduction are truly unparalleled. What gave me away, exactly?”

Will bit his lower lip. Let his teeth dig down until he tasted blood and, well—more blood, he supposed. Six stitches later, though, and there wasn’t much blood left on his face, just a pair of narrow eyes doing their best to glare a hole through his cranium and he didn’t think that was entirely possible. 

Biology had never been his strong suit, really. Unless you counted hauling off and punching some rat-faced bastard on the Caps who couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut about a possible offsides that had maybe happened two periods before and they’d been winning and it was fine. Totally fine. This was his job. Punching and bruising up assholes. Just a little bit, to remind them who they were playing and what was on the line and—

It was entirely possible Belle’s eyes were not entirely human. 

His face flushed. Heat raced through either one of his cheeks, threatening what he could only assume was the structural integrity of his own eyes because Will couldn’t remember when he’d decided to widen them, exactly. Just that they were starting to dry out a little bit and Ariel was going to kill him. 

She’d made that very clear post-game. 

There might be a two-person line to wreak havoc, now. 

“You get this little pinch between your eyebrows,” Will said, leaning forward until the top of his head nearly hit the bottom of her chin, “makes it easy to tell.”

Belle huffed. Crossed her arms. Nearly punched him in the face, which would have been something close to the peak of irony at this point, and then maybe Ariel wouldn’t threaten to kill him again. No, that was wishful thinking. 

It’d be a miracle if they were allowed uptown later. Ariel had probably sent out an APB, or whatever the culinary equivalent of that was. No admittance until the blood had dried off his forehead and he laid prostrate at her feet, begging forgiveness for the error of his ways. 

Like hell, he would.

This was his job. He was the—

Fuck, maybe he was a goon. He hadn’t scored in a while. Not even a secondary assist, or anything. Skating at the edge of the blue line on a fledgling power play did not an All-Star make, and, well, now that he thought about it, maybe Will had started jawing first. There were mumbled insults, at least. 

From him, specifically. More than once, actually. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here, y’know.”

The pinch got—

Pinchier. Deeper. Like a tiny, little crevice between what Will was starting to realize were meticulously cared-for eyebrows and maybe he should get a CT scan or an MRI or something because it had taken him this long to notice she was also wearing his jersey. Too-long sleeves grazed the slight bend of her knuckles, looking as if she was actively stopping herself from fisting her hands at her side and that thought wasn’t supposed to make him smile. 

Still. 

Will’s lips tugged up. His eyes thinned. Nose crinkled ever so slightly. Something that had been growing increasingly familiar in the last few months of the season jumped between his ribs, like little flutters of wholly imaginary wings, and she kept wearing his jersey. Kept coming to games, and that was good because they’d gotten past the labels and expectations, all of which were sky-high on the NHL’s most romance-prone hockey team. 

God, maybe he wasn’t just a goon. Maybe he was a complete and total asshole. 

“This is Cap’s fault,” Will announced, and he’d been ready for the pinch. He was less prepared for those eyebrows he was starting to become a tad obsessed with to soar up Belle’s forehead, past the swoop of bangs that regularly messed with his cognizant reasoning. 

She scoffed. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No, but maybe when we get back to—”

“I will kick you in the shins, Scarlet, I swear to every God you can think of.”

He tried not to deflate. Really, he did. But his name seemed to crack out of her, punching the bridge of his nose like Belle had actually pulled her right arm back and her scoff was more like an exhale that time. That had never happened. 

Even before. Before the labels and the attempts at setting up Killian and watching that entire season and how often he stared longing at Emma, before Regina and Locksley continued to be parents extraordinaire and the jealousy started to eat away at him. Slowly, but surely and he never talked about that, but he figured she knew because Belle knew everything and—

“Bet you twenty bucks you could name more gods than I could.”

Another sigh. A tilt of her head. It made her bangs shift. He wasn’t sure what was happening in his chest. Expanding and contracting, a painful rhythm that hurt way more than the stitches or the shitty metaphors and he was glad she’d snuck into the locker room. Will didn’t want her anywhere else. 

Naming conventions, aside. 

“I’m sorry—” “—I love you.”

He almost fell over. Impressive, since Will was still sitting down and his feet didn’t entirely reach the floor from that position. His jaw dropped. He hated that. Partially because it hurt and mostly because he should have been way cooler, wanted to be way cooler, but there were dots of red on his girlfriend’s cheeks and teeth digging into her lower lip, now, and he resolutely ignored the ache in his calves when he slid back to his feet. 

Curling an arm around her waist, he didn’t think much about the precise way he yanked her. Forward. Directly into his chest and that didn’t leave much room to bend his knees, but Will was less concerned with specifics and the staging of this than actually getting to the good part. 

The kissing part. 

Plus, Belle pushed up on her toes. So, that helped. 

He groaned. Loudly, like embarrassingly loud. As soon as her head tilted and he could get his mouth on hers and they were all hands and lips and whatever she was doing with her tongue, tracing the lip he’d been so intent on biting through just a few moments before. Bending his knees did give Will some more leverage. To pull her even closer, moving his arm and ignoring her soft protests. 

Most of them died when he managed to get a hand under her left thigh. 

She groaned. Something to be said about symmetry, Will assumed. Although he also didn’t really...care. About the saying, mostly. Not when he was melting and falling, dropping into the deep end of a pool that was a shock to his system and the best thing that had ever happened to him and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Bar none. 

Especially when she did that tongue thing. 

Closing his eyes, he knew he had to tilt his head. Had to breathe and stay conscious and he didn’t want to think about the medical requirements of a professional hockey player at a time like that, but he knew consistent awareness of his surroundings was probably fairly important and the roar of triumph blaring through his brain made that a little difficult. Breathing would have to be enough for now. 

“I can’t—” Belle’s shoulders heaved. Fingers dragged across the back of Will’s neck and he had to admit he was fairly impressed with her balance. Her right foot wasn’t on the ground. “Shit, I—” He pulled her lip between his teeth, tried to memorize the next hitch of her breath and he was about five-point two-three seconds away from losing his mind. Rocking his hips up was a very bad idea. He did it anyway. “Babe, I can’t think when you do that.”

Everything was spinning. He was spinning. No, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t spinning. He was standing and touching and there was barely any color left in Belle’s eyes. 

Pride prickled at the back of Will’s brain. Until pain joined the fray, making a glorious and unwelcome return at the precise moment he realized there was moisture on his cheek again. Warm and red and Ariel was going to kill him. 

“Cap and Emma were making out in the hallway,” Will explained, “pre-game. Nothing they don’t normally do, and I don’t even think they knew I was there.”

“Is any of this supposed to make me feel better?”

He nodded. “I love you, too. Like it’s ridiculous how in love with you I am.”

Silence. As much as there could be in a locker room, at least. Water fell from shower heads a few hundred feet away, the low murmur of questions and Lucas-approved answers, squeaking sneakers and clacking heels, and the familiar sound of wheels rolling across linoleum as the equipment hampers moved down the hall. 

Will took a deep breath. 

Slowly, through his nose. Keeping the nerves off his face was harder than he expected, and even more ridiculous than whatever he’d just proclaimed because Belle had proclaimed first and it was entirely possible they were both colossal idiots. That put them on even ground, though. 

He appreciated that. 

“Why were you mad, ma moitié?”

There was the pinch, again. “Why do you think?” Will shook his head, brushing hair away from her eyes and he knew he didn’t imagine that sigh, either. Softer. More content. All that previous even ground. “Because I—” Belle started, and the color hadn’t left her face yet. “I know you think you’ve got to be this guy. Out there defending, not just the goal but the people and that’s...I’m super into that.”

“But?”

“But it makes me so nervous, I could spit.’

Will genuinely had no idea what noise he made. It might not have been human, really. Tearing out of his throat, his eyes bugged and he bent over without really meaning to, forehead finding Belle’s shoulder like that was the only reasonable landing place. He was still bleeding. Or bleeding again, whatever. 

“Say that again,” he mumbled. Into her jersey. His jersey. Whatever, part two. 

“Spit,” she repeated, making sure to enunciate every letter, “because I know you can hold your own in a fight, and that’s how you think you make a difference on this team, but—”

“It is that’s why.”

“Was my shin-kicking threat not threatening?”

He kissed exactly where his lips were. “Not really, no.”

“‘Cuz I’ll totally do it, I swear. To all those gods and goddesses and then they’ll descend from on high and tell you that they also think you’re an idiot who should know that letting some rat on the ice get under your skin is exactly what they’re trying to do. Plus, it’s way better when you check them, y’know?”

Lifting his head didn’t hurt. Made him a little nervous, anxiety churning his gut and this was not the way Will thought this would happen. Maybe he could get Belle to kick Killian too. For the making out. And the unspoken frustration. He was definitely an idiot. “Is it just?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Don’t have to. You’re very easy to read.”

Belle lifted her eyebrows. More. “That so?’

“You think it’s super attractive when I check another dude.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to. Also, I love you.”

“You mentioned that before, yeah.”

“And I am sorry for freaking you out.” Sigh number three wasn’t quite as resigned as the others, but it still left guilt rising in the back of Will’s throat and every single inch of him froze. As soon as Belle leaned around him, grabbed a far-too-large handful of gauze and started wiping blood off his cheek. “That’s way too much, babe.”

“Ariel can deal.”

“Ya gonna kick her too?”

“I’ll consider it,” Belle mumbled, back on both feet again. For, like, two seconds. Before she pushed back up on her toes, kissed the corner of Will's mouth, and added, “Don’t do that to me again, ok?”

“Aye, aye, Cap.”

He had much better reflexes than her. Pulling her back to his side before either one of her shoes could land a blow was easy and bordering almost close to joyful and that was a strange thing for him to be, but it was also easy and somehow even more simple and Ariel let them into the restaurant that night. They stayed for all of fifteen minutes. 

And Will told Belle he loved her once every five minutes on the cab ride back to his apartment. 

He timed it, and everything. Just to make sure the color stayed in her cheeks.

#kiss prompts #blue line one shots #WILL AND BELLE SUPREMACY #this was becuase the rangers won last night and i was feeling hockey-prone #so it's really the rangers fault #optomisticgirl #laura rambles

[q-quadrum]

Firstly, I would like to apologize for reposting this post the second time ;m;

(I’m still new to reposting and other stuff functions on Tumblr)

Salutations, Madness Combat community!

May I present to you a fanfiction that I’ve made based on this lovely person’s idea?

Usually I will just continue my day, but this idea you give immediately prepares me my broken fingers to write this stuff.

It took me 2 days to finish this bad boi

Hope you have a good day, especially to you @roselily2006 <3, and sorry if my writing is not that good ^^"

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

CW: Blood, Lots of blood, Derealization, and A bit hint of cannibalism there

It all started with a hearty laugh coming from a conversation between two people inside of a small restaurant business Somewhere in Nevada, filling the atmosphere with happiness in the air.

Two grunts, Sanford and Deimos were sitting on one of the 2 person’s table while chatting and joking about everything that they like.

Sanford was basically sipping his glass of cold water while holding his giggle of laughter and listening to Deimos’ jokes.

“Wait- uh- so basically,” he cleared his throat, putting the half-glass down. “The agents that chased you, you shoot them down, and one of it basically-“ He wheezes, his right hand holds the edge of his table, “- hit his head bY THE POLE THAT HE PASSED AWAY?!” Then he laughs.

Deimos had done laughing on his part, keeping his composure up from bursting into another laugh.

“Yeah shit, right? That poor guy went limp soon after!” He smiles widely, revealing his sharp teeth to Sanford, as the man hung his head low due to the laughing.

What Deimos’ know is that they were getting a mission to retrieve and revive their other friend, Hank.

Yeah, and that one might be an obvious reasons Deimos could feel that something is wrong.

Somehow, them being in a restaurant ordering some random shit didn’t make sense.

Again, everything didn’t make any sense; and it starts to scare him.

Maybe he went black out a little throughout the mission and came back to his consciousness in front of Sanford, hence why they were at a restaurant talking any shits that could laugh onto while on the way of ordering something in the restaurant.

Wait a minute,

Where did this conversation even start?

He has to check something. He look around before leans forward, causing Sanford to jump a little.

"Umm Sanford?"

"Hmm? Yes, Dei?"

"..shouldn't we have revive Hank right now?"

…

“Shouldn’t we,… shouldn’t we all were fighting The Auditor?”He added.

Deimos didn't know how Sanford look at him right behind those shades, but he could see a small glimpse of tinted red glow staring right at his soul.

That’s not the how usual hazel eye colour look like, right?

Sanford swishes his right arm in the air, getting it to Deimos’ attention." relax Dei, Hank would be later. For now, let's enjoy our date! See what's on the menu, my eyes are now looking at these pages filled with ice-creams section over here,"

He cheers, it was obvious he was trying to change to another subject," So, what kind of flavoured ice-cream you want? There's banana chocolate, cotton candy and ooh~ there's this new flavour that you always wanted to try; Raspberry Burst! You always speculate that it would taste like Grunt's blood and craving to taste it, am I right? Maybe we should order that one?" he chuckles.

Deimos gulped his saliva in his throat. He feels a metallic feeling in his mouth when his partner mentions the taste.

But he could see that ‘Sanford’ who’s in front of him is panicking. Called it.

Something isn’t right.

He could feel that he was in his real world, but at the same time he could feel he wasn’t in his real ‘real’ world. Having a hearty date with the most loved man that he wanted? This is too good to be true.

He has to play along.

Deimos beamed with a smile,” Yeah, sure. Go on, order it up! Gonna take my phone a while for,.. you know, write my reviews about the stuff.” He fakes his toothy grin, but that doesn’t alarm the suspicion to the latter.

“Alright, sure man. Hey waiter!” Sanford whistles out for a waiter in the restaurant.

He tapped his fingers onto the table to signal them to come and take out their order. The waiter came to their table and Sanford orders what they have plan to order earlier.

As Sanford’s eyes now focusing on the grunt waiter in front of them, Deimos slowly pick up a small pocket knife instead of his phone from his back pocket.

And as Sanford casually turns back to look at him, Deimos immediately lunged forward, stabbing Sanford towards his neck.

“Dei, mo-,” He spits out good amount of blood from his mouth, Deimos could see that red, possessive eyes under his shades very well now.

“Gotcha, you fake bastard!” he angrily whispers as he shoves the knife a more deeper into Sanford’s throat.

He gurgles. “Y-you ..ungrateful-!”

Everything suddenly fades out. The waiter in front of them, the customers around them, the restaurant itself, everything fades to nothing but an empty white space, with only Sanford and Deimos still on each other’s table seats.

“You think I’m that stupid you little shit?!” Deimos shouted.

Sanford didn’t say any words as he continues to stare at Deimos. His face contorts in anger. Then he disintegrates into thin air, loosening Deimos’ knife grip on his neck.

Deimos vision slowly clouded with white light as it hurting his eyes, an ominous voice laughs hard-heartedly in his head,

“You silly bastard,…” Sanford’s voice replays over and over again, Deimos could feel his muscled shoulders embracing him with that sweaty familiar warmth.

.

.

.

.

.

He could open his eyes at last as he finally snaps back to reality,…

… with his hand covered in blood from his lover's bleeding nose.

What?

He looks down on his feet, then trails forwards to a person’s body limping in front of him.

His eyes widen.

Fuck, he was too late to get out of the trance.

And by his own hands, his friend was battered to half-dead on the ground. His breath was hitched, and he was holding his right hip, covered in blood and guts were coming out of it.

Deimos realized that’s not the worse that he had done while he got controlled. He notices that there’s a large chunk of Sanford’s right shoulder’s meat got bitten out voraciously. Examines back to himself, he notices his mouth was bleed with blood as well, and he could feel there is a chewing small metallic stuff inside of his mouth, and it tastes bitter, like a sticky clay.

Grunt’s Blood.

So that’s where the taste comes from.

Fuck.

He looked at his surroundings.

Hank?

Their corpse was beside his friend’s lap, probably was used as an attempt to preventing himself from getting hurt. Most of the parts of their body was either ripped off along with a large bite mark on parts of some of it.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t work as well.

He fell onto his knees.

There's a sound of someone clapping their hands, footsteps getting closer to him.

"Never expected for you to be this violent towards your so-called comrades, you defected clone." they chuckle behind him.

He heard that wispy, sly voice before.

"Dee-mos, isn’t it? Great job for resisting my possession. " A black, warm hand resting on his shoulder.

Deimos turns around, getting a closer look to the figure behind him. Their body seems to have no mass as they move towards him in a serpent-like movement, leaving black-coloured fire trail behind them. Their flaming red-eyes fixated on his poor bloody appearance.

He knows the figure very well. They always met during his time in A.A.H.W.

The changes that there’s now a halo on their forehead, cracked and syncing with its former holder.

The Auditor open their non-existent mouth, revealing red sharp teeth, and smile.

"Unfortunately for you, you're late for the party." They lean in to his face. “Too late, to be exact.”

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

Extra stuff I wanted to add before end the post:

The summary:

Deimos basically was sent deep into his mind, with projected Sanford made by Auditor to keep him contained.

In my kind of headcanon: usually cloned grunts would resist the possession since they were not even fully sentient to begin with, plus they didn't have any attachments to everything really. But for Deimos, that's a whole another story.

Maybe it's just because he's built different.

<333

#madness combat #madcom #deimos #sanford #hank j. wimbleton #hank #but only mentioned #fanfiction #giftfic #thank you for these idea mah fellow friend #it was a good idea btw <3

[1heartsickfics]

Alex tries to take Charlotte on a fancy sushi date and gets food poisoning. He's still trying to make it the best date and push it aside until his stomach hurts too badly

Also got a prompt for a super nauseous Alex with Charlotte taking care of him.

TW: depictions of vomit

“So you’re a communications major right? Do you know what you want to do exactly?” Alex asked, taking another bite of his chicken. Honestly, it wasn’t that good and he wasn’t sure why he was even still eating it. 

“Well, I’m minoring in theater but my emphasis is in performance and direction. So I guess my ultimate goal would be to direct shows or movies or something. But I also might end up being a drama teacher or something,” Charlotte answered, her eyes sparkling. They always did that when she talked about things that made her happy. 

“Wow directing movies would be so awesome I feel like. I mean I can’t even imagine,” Alex said. 

“Yeah, it’s a super hard field to get into though, which is why I’m kind of leaving my options open. Plus I’ve still got a couple years to figure it out,” she shrugged.

Charlotte was going to be a junior this fall, while Alex was going to be a freshman, even though they were the same age. Since Alex took 2 years to get an associate’s from a medical JUCO for some extra experience before starting at KU. 

“Are you okay Alex? You’re sweating,” Charlotte pointed out, leaning forward with a frown. 

“Yeah, it’s just warm in here,” he shrugged off her concern. 

Truth be told he was feeling a little off. He was definitely too warm, although his skin was prickling, like he was cold. Which didn’t make any sense. And now that he thought about it his stomach was actually kind of starting to hurt. Alex really should’ve stopped eating the chicken as soon as he realized it tasted bad. 

“Okay,” Charlotte said, although she didn’t look convinced. 

“So what kinds of classes are you taking this semester?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“Well I’m in theatre practicum, which is an acting class. And then stage direction, which I’m super excited about! I actually get to direct a short piece!” she said, her eyes doing that sparkly thing again.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” Alex said, smiling at her despite the growing ache in his stomach. 

“Aww Alex, that’s so sweet,” she smiled, her cheeks flushing red. 

A cramp rippled through Alex’s stomach just then, making him drop his fork. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, breathing slowly through gritted teeth as it subsided. 

“Alex?” Charlotte asked, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. When he opened his eyes she was looking at him intently, her beautiful eyes full of worry. 

“Sorry, I’m okay,” he breathed out, his voice sounding weak.

“Hey, don’t apologize, talk to me,” she said, leaning farther forward. She reached up to cup his face in her hands, subtly checking for fever, though he didn’t feel warm. 

“I, uh, my stomach,” he stammered, feeling another cramp tightening in his lower belly, though not as badly as the first one. 

“Okay yeah you’re really not looking so good, I think it’s time to go,” Charlotte said, although Alex could hardly hear her. He was too focused on the vice grip inside of his stomach. His arms wrapped around his middle as he hunched over, tears stinging his eyes. 

Charlotte quickly pulled out her wallet, leaving some cash on the table to pay for their meal and leave a tip, then got up, moving around to Alex’s side of the booth. She gently grabbed his arm and placed her other hand on his back. 

“Come on, I’m gonna take you home,” she said.

“Just give-” he gasped, “give me a minute.”

“Jesus Alex is it that bad?” she asked, getting seriously worried. Did she need to take him to a hospital.

“Cramps. Chicken,” he gritted out. 

“Chicken? You think the chicken was bad? Oh babe, you’ve probably got food poisoning,” she sighed, realizing what he was trying to tell her. 

“Mhmm,” he groaned, leaning his head against her. 

“Alright, just breathe Lex, we’ll get you out of here whenever you’re ready,” she said patiently, smoothing her hands down his arms to try and calm him down. After a moment, he was able to straighten up again, the squeezing of his stomach having momentarily let up. 

“Ready?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he nodded slightly, taking a deep breath before letting Charlotte guide him gently out of the booth. 

As soon as he was standing, the cramping in his stomach was replaced by a wave of nausea crashing over him. He swayed, head reeling, thankful for Charlotte’s hands on him, keeping him steady. 

“I’ve got you, just move your feet okay?” she said softly, one hand pressed gently to his lower back, her other arm held out for Alex to hold onto. She led him out of the restaurant, ignoring the strange looks people gave them as they passed. 

Once they were in the parking lot she pulled Alex’s keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car. She led him over to the passenger side, opening the door for him and helping him carefully climb in before walking around to get in on the driver’s side. 

“How are you doing?” she asked, wondering if she’d have to pull over on the way back to his house. His face was looking pretty pale, grey even, and his eyes were unfocused and hazy. 

“Not good,” 

“I’ll try to hurry alright? But let me know if you need me to stop,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his leg before she put the car in reverse and headed out of the parking lot. 

Alex hadn’t bothered to put his seat belt on, afraid of putting any more pressure on his stomach than his jeans were already doing. He was slumped against the door, his head resting against the window, with the air conditioning blasting into his face. 

He felt like he was on a tilt-a-whirl, his vision spinning before him. So he squeezed his eyes shut, although that did little to stop the vertigo. His stomach was catapulting inside of him too, churning in time with the waves of nausea that were washing over him every few seconds. 

“Char...” he groaned, his voice choked with nausea, which he was valiantly fighting back.

“We’re almost there, hold on,” she said, sensing the urgency in his voice. She turned onto the street his house was on, glancing at Alex nervously. One hand was hovering over his mouth, the other pressed carefully to his stomach. 

“I don’t know if I can wait much longer,” Alex rushed out through gritted teeth, afraid to open his mouth. 

“I know, I know, we’re here just give me a second,” she threw the car in park, jumping out and rushing around to Alex’s side. He practically spilled out when she opened the door, falling against her in his rush to get inside. She helped him right himself then pulled his arm around her shoulders to prop him up so she could drag him inside. 

“Fuck it’s coming up,” Alex moaned, his voice think. Charlotte hurriedly unlocked the door and pulled Alex over to the couch, grabbing the trash can from beside it and shoving it into his lap just as his stomach decided it had waited long enough. 

His whole body convulsed with a violent heave as he brought up a large wave of sick into the bin. He coughed and immediately heaved up another mouthful of vomit into the trash can, gagging noisily. 

“There you go sweetie, get it up,” she said softly, brushing her hands through his hair as he threw up. 

He panted over the trashcan, spitting into the mess. After a few more dry heaves he was able to sit up slowly, sagging against Charlotte, who wrapped her arm around him to rest her hand on his tummy. 

“Feel any better?” she asked. 

“Nooo,” he groaned, pressing his face into her shoulder. 

“Poor baby,” she cooed, sliding her hand under his shirt to rub his tummy. Upon feeling how bloated he was, she reached down to unbutton and unzip his jeans, which elicited a quiet sigh from her boyfriend. She gently rubbed his stomach for a few minutes until she felt it bubbling angrily beneath her hand, a loud gurgle coming from his lower belly. 

“That didn’t sound good,” she said, stilling her hand. 

“It didn’t feel good either,” he said, standing up on shaky legs, “I need the bathroom,” he said, cheeks going red. 

“Oh,” Charlotte realized he didn’t mean to throw up. “Do you want me to come with you?” she asked nervously, unsure of what to do. Their relationship was still pretty new. 

“No, thanks,” he shook his head, then quickly shuffled off to the bathroom, using the wall to support him down the hall. 

He returned a while later, looking even more pale and sweaty than he had before. He was clutching his stomach, his other hand propped up against the wall. Charlotte quickly got up and moved to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist to help him trudge back over to the couch. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, sliding her hand carefully over his stomach. 

“Bad,” he cried, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. 

“Aw Alex, I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling him back to rest in her lap, his back against her chest. She wrapped both arms around him to rub gentle circles over his belly as it sloshed and churned upsetly. It was going to be a long night. 

#sick alex #caretaker charlotte #alex and charlotte #new character #new relationship #food poisoning #vomit tw #vomit trigger warning #also mentions of other end stuff briefly #tummy rubs

[dhwty-writes]

Nightmares

This is part 4 of my fic for @heyabooboo for the @thewitchersecretsanta.

Welcome to the the longest (and angstiest) chapter of this fic! Compared to the others that are found in this fandom, this is fairly mild, but please heed the tags. And have fun reading!

Summary: Having braved the nightmare of figuring out the meaning of a near incomprehensible poem, one should think that the nightmares of the netherworld come to an end. Alas, Destiny is not as kind. Retracing their steps, Jaskier is taken to the darkest chapters of his and Geralt's lives.

Moodboard by the amazing @petrificustotaluss

Warnings: canon typical violence, we see Geralt and Jaskier’s shitty childhood in here, and the trial of the grasses, but nothing too explicit. Rated T

Read on AO3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

It was, admittedly, a bit strange, to say the least, to keep walking backwards with his eyes affixed on the horizon. He extended his arms to get a better balance, still he tripped and stumbled over rocks and tree stumps and thin air. It probably would've been easier with just a glance over his shoulder. But-

'No,' he decided. 'I mustn't lose my goal from sight.' If he was entirely honest, that was probably the most difficult part.

Many people assume that in a netherworld without a physical body they cannot be troubled by such trivial things such as the paltry ache of keeping your eyes open without blinking. That is untrue. 

There are some aspects of humanity that are so ingrained into the core of their very being that they cannot imagine a world without it. Boogers, for example, and armpit hair, or sweat. Or the pressing urge to blink.

And no matter how much Jaskier tried to fight it, there was just no hope of escaping the burn. 

He blinked.

The scenery in front of him had changed. "What the fuck?" he murmured quietly as he took in the familiar countryside.

It was late in autumn it seemed; most of the trees had already shrugged off their colourful cloaks of withered leaves, though the first snow was yet to come. In front of him, a beautiful keep rose up at the horizon. The walls of limestone were pristine as ever, the red shingles glistening after a recent rain shower, bright banners flapping in the wind. The whole image looked as if plucked from a nightmarish fairy tale. "Huh," he muttered to himself. "Didn't expect I'd end up here of all places." Self-consciously he tugged at the cuffs of his blue silk doublet. Hadn't he been naked?

He decided not to think about that too much and instead be grateful for the armour that would protect him from piecing stares and cutting comments. He had no time for it either, for within the blink of an eye his vision shifted again and he stood within the empty courtyard.

'Strange.' There should be guards. Servants. The Count or Countess perhaps. Instead, there was nothing but eerie quiet and wisps of fog curling around his feet. It was almost enough for him to feel concern rising within hi-

"Julian Alfred Pankratz!" Jaskier froze on instinct, the booming voice bearing down on him like whip lashes.

‘Fuck.’ Twenty years. Twenty years since he had last returned home, and still— His heart was beating frantically in his chest, as if it wanted to jump right out of it. Given his previous experiences in this place, he didn't consider this impossible. 'Shit,' he cursed silently. 'It just had to be Lettenhove, hadn't it?'

He screwed his eyes shut, to drown out the litany of his father, the words nearly indistinguishable through the thick haze clouding his mind, though still drawing closer.

When he finally opened them again and had managed to blink away the bright lights distorting his vision, he realised he wasn't outside anymore. Instead, he was standing in front of a nondescript double door he knew like the back of his hand and had hoped to never see again.

It stood the slightest bit ajar, just so that he could peer inside. There was his father behind his desk, Lord Lettenhove intimidating as always. And- Jaskier frowned.

A little boy standing in front of him, with a mop of brown hair and a silken doublet that looked much like the one Jaskier was wearing. His mouth formed a silent 'O.' He couldn't see the boy's face, nor betrayed his body a single thing, yet he knew that he was crying.

'This isn't real,' he understood. 'This is a memory.'

"Father, please-" the boy begged, but his voice broke and shoulders gave the slightest tremble, the only hint of the terror that stole his and Jaskier's voices alike. 'For the fearless no success,' he reminded himself. 'Well, I'm fucking terrified. I'm getting out of here.'

He wanted to close his eyes so that this strange world would bring him to another place. But they didn't. No matter how adamantly he ordered them to shut, his eyelids didn't budge. 'Poor boy,' a voice in the back of his mind said. 'Poor me. I can't leave like this.'

"Well, Sir?" his father asked coldly. "Don't you have anything to say in your defence?"

Jaskier screwed his eyes shut, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He cursed quietly: "Get it together, Jaskier!" He hadn't dealt with stage fright for nearly thirty years to succumb to fear now. So, he squared his shoulders and passed through the oaken wood of the door.

"Actually, your lordship," he spoke up, "I do."

Lord Lettenhove whirled around and gasped. "You!" he spit out and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Where have you been? Your mother is worried sick."

"She isn't," he said casually and strolled over to his child self. "She never is. Besides, she's been dead for a decade." He went down on one knee to get on eye level with him. "Hello there," he greeted him with a smile he hoped to be reassuring. "It certainly has been a while."

Julian raised his gaze, his eyes puffy and red with tears, the fear lingering even now. For a moment he couldn't help but stare in bewilderment. 'Was it really that bad?' He hadn't even remembered.

"Who are you?" Julian asked.

"A scoundrel," their father huffed indignantly, "and a coward."

Jaskier's smile grew even wider. "He's right," he confessed. "I am you, little one. Just without- this." He waved his hand around vaguely.

Julian's eyes widened even further, his gaze flicking around nervously. Finally, it settled on the lute case. "Are you a bard?" he whispered secretively.

"A failure," their father commented, "a disgrace upon our name."

He ignored him. "Oh no, little one. I am no mere bard. I am an adventurer, a poet, a minstrel. I am all that you dream to be and more. I am Jaskier, the most renowned troubadour of the Continent. But most importantly, I am alive. I am real. And you, my lord," slowly he rose to his feet and turned to their father, "are nothing."

"Excuse you?" he gasped. "You will take that back, young man."

"No," he answered calmly. "I don't think I will. I was taught to always tell the truth, so tell the truth I shall. And that truth is that you, father, are not deserving of any obedience or respect a son owes his parents. And least of all love."

Lord Lettenhove sneered. "You are no son of mine," he spat out and for a moment those words were enough to make Jaskier tense up. He could well remember when he had heard them—and seen his family—the last time. He could still taste the despair on his tongue, the tears running down his cheeks, the overwhelming urge to beg-

"No," he interrupted the spiral of hopelessness that threatened to drag him away. 'I have reimagined my memories hundreds of times. I can do it again.' He straightened his back and raised his chin. "No, Alfred, I am not. You wish you had a son like me."

"I do not-"

Jaskier scoffed and turned his back to him. He had spent far too much time listening to his father in his life already, he did not plan on doing it any longer. "Hey, Julian," he said instead, "do you want to hear a poem? How about a limerick?"

The Count de Lettenhove gasped indignantly: "Julian, how- Such verses are beneath us."

"And they are above your intellect," he retorted with a wink at Julian. "Let's see, I think I've got a good one:

There once was a Countlet named Alfred,

Whose aim was to cause fright and dread.

He thought himself smart

For he despised the arts,

Alas, he was dumber than bread."

Julian's eyes gleamed and he snickered. Well. He considered that a good start. "Another?" he challenged and the boy nodded eagerly. "How about this?

There once was a Redanian Countess

Who was famed for her martial prowess.

She boasted she taught

Her son to wield a sword,

But was beaten by a pigeon at chess.”

Giggling, Julian almost didn't look scared anymore. "A last one, yeah?" Jaskier proposed and he nodded eagerly. "This one I know from a friend. Ready?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Alright." He cleared his throat and said with as much dignity and gravitas as possible: "Lambert, Lambert, what a prick."

By now Julian was laughing openly, nearly doubling over with the force of it. 'There,' Jaskier thought with a satisfied smile, 'that's better.'

He blinked.

The road that led through the early-summer forest was empty except for a cart disappearing in the distance. Jaskier frowned and turned around. What on earth had led him here? As far as he could remember it, he had never seen that place before. Plus, there was no-one around.

Maybe he was just supposed to follow the road. With a shrug Jaskier decided that was as good a guess as any and began walking. He hadn't gotten far when he heard the prattling of tiny feet behind him. "Ma?" a young boy shouted. "Ma!"

Jaskier wanted to keep on walking. He didn’t know this boy, so this hardly concerned him. He rally tried to keep on walking. Really. But something made him turn around. Maybe the fear in the boy's cry: "Ma!" Probably the sob when he yelled: "Visenna!"

The boy couldn't be any older than seven years at most, probably he was younger still, and there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. "Ma?" he asked again.

"Sorry, buddy," Jaskier said. "No-one around but me."

"But- She said- She told me to get water," he stammered. "She was thirsty."

"Oh." His heart sank. What was he even supposed to tell him? That she was surely coming back? That was a lie, no mother left her child in the woods with the intention of coming back. He had seen it often enough in the past. Mostly it was because of hunger, or sickness, sometimes just good old poverty as well. Some of the children were believed to be cursed, or changelings, or whatever other thing humans came up with to keep hurting each other. 

This child, however, did not seem to fit any of the categories. He looked almost disturbingly boring. He was well-fed and properly clothed as well, a healthy blush on his cheeks. Jaskier had no idea what had led the mother to abandon him out here. "I'm sorry," was the best he managed. The boy's lower lip wobbled dangerously. 'Please don't start crying,' Jaskier begged whichever higher power was listening. He was shit with children; he couldn't handle a crying one. "What's your name?" he asked, trying to prevent the inevitable.

"Geralt," the boy answered with a frail voice.

"Oh," Jaskier said again. 'Oh, fuck,' he thought. No wonder he didn't recognise the memory—it was taking place over half a century before he was even born. "Geralt," he repeated stupidly. Geralt as a child. Geralt before the trials. Geralt who had, presumably, just been abandoned before heading to Kaer Morhen. Geralt who was just about to cry.

'Shit.' He had to do something. And fast. "Well, Geralt, I'm glad that I stumbled upon you here. I couldn't imagine braving the way through this wilderness on my own."

The boy frowned—an expression that looked much cuter on this Geralt than on the one Jaskier was acquainted with. "I know you," he decided after a few moments.

"Yes," he agreed. "You will. Come, I tell you a story while we walk."

He started walking into the direction the cart had left. Boy-Geralt hurried to catch up with him and slipped his hand in his. "You look funny," he remarked.

Jaskier snorted. "It's called fashion, thank you very much." He regarded him with a fond, wry smile. "I'm glad not everything about you changes once you grow up."

"Are you a prince?" Geralt asked as if Jaskier hadn't said anything at all. 'The selective deafness isn't new either, I see.' 

"Not quite," he answered honestly. "I am a Viscount, but that's unimportant. You will know me as a bard and the most annoying creature in existence."

"A bard?" he asked excitedly, skipping along next to him. "I will know a bard? Will you sing songs of me? Will we be friends?"

"All of that and more," he chuckled. "Although you won't always be grateful for it."

"I can't imagine that." They walked barely two paces in silence before Geralt asked: "Will I be a knight? Will I slay a dragon? Is that why I will know you?"

"No," Jaskier answered as kindly as he could. "You will save a dragon. As a witcher."

"A witcher?" Geralt's eyes went wide in horror. "No, that can't be! Witchers are scary!"

"Well, you can be very scary," he agreed. "But most of the time you aren't. You see, there was this one time when we were travelling and you found a dog. It was old, and had a broken leg and had been left to die in the woods. But instead of killing it, you set its bone, heaved it onto your horse's back and found a place for it to stay. You weren't with me then, but a few years later I visited the same town and it was still there, hale and hearty."

He glanced down at the boy to check if he had the boy’s attention. Of course, he had; Geralt was practically hanging on his lips. "Oh, or that other time when you were hired to slay a troll and we chose to remigrate him instead. Sounds easy enough, right?"

Geralt nodded.

"Well, it wasn't. You see, while trolls are certainly smarter than... drowners, let's say, they are not terribly intelligent. We tried talking to him, wasted half a night while doing so—because we couldn't remigrate him during the day, since you were supposed to kill him—until we managed to explain to him that he should get up and follow us. It worked until we reached another bridge where he had lived previously, as it seemed. He decided he might just as well live there again, and then we had to remigrate him again." Jaskier laughed at the memory. "I think we repeated that four times at least. And didn't even get paid in the end, can you believe that?"

"Another," Geralt begged eagerly. "Please, tell another one.

"Alright," Jaskier agreed. And so, he did what he did best: singing Geralt of Rivia's praises. He talked until his throat was raw, and kept on talking after that. Only when the sun set and Geralt fell almost asleep on his feet, did they seek out a place to rest.

They found a nice dry spot next to a stream, just like Geralt would teach him almost a century from now. Jaskier dug a pit to start a campfire, as Geralt collected firewood, and dug out some dried rations from his pack, that had miraculously appeared along the way. Once they were both sated, he laid his bedroll out for the boy and took the first watch. Well, the only watch, more like it. 

He leaned against a log they had dragged onto the clearing together, plucking idly at his lute strings to accompany an old lullaby he half-remembered his nursemaid singing. Satisfied, he watched as the boy fell asleep and only then, finally, did exhaustion wash over him. He felt so drained, from walking for what felt like weeks without a break. He'd just set his lute down and rest his eyes for a little bit and—

He blinked.

"Get out!" the innkeeper barked and Jaskier sprung to his feet. "Get out, you useless bastard! And don't bother coming back in."

"Fuck," he cursed quietly as he lunged to catch the man—boy, really—that was about to land face-first in the mud. Too late. The Oxenfurt graduate was already eating dirt. And not moving. Well, that was concerning. "Are you alright?" Jaskier asked.

"Ow," the boy groaned, still without so much as lifting his head.

He flopped down next to his younger self with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. Bruised ego hurts like shit. But no broken bones at least, eh?"

"This time."

He winced. He'd forgotten how shitty it had been before he had become famous. "You need to get up," he told him without too much empathy. Whining would get them nowhere. "You'll ruin your doublet else, and we both know that you don't have the coin for a new one. No-one likes a dirty bard." Besides, they had to greet a witcher in the very same get-up not quite two months from now.

"I hate you," Julian-Jaskier grumbled as he got himself into a sitting position.

"You hate the world and think that's the same as hating yourself and everyone around you," he corrected him. "There's a difference." He had also forgotten his dramatics of his teenage years, it seemed. Not that he was keen to remember them.

The bardlet rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. "What do you want? I really had a shitty day and don't need a visit from... what even is this? Future me?"

"Something like that," Jaskier grumbled. "Believe me, I'm not thrilled to be here either."

"Then go away."

"Can't," he explained. "Not until I help you... or something."

"Help me?" He snorted. "How are you supposed to help me?"

The thing was, Jaskier wasn't quite sure either. There really was no helping him; he had no money to give and besides, that wouldn't make much of a difference either. It never had, not until he stole the lute from the drunk disgrace of a bard in a month, at least. Wait a minute-

"A lute!" he exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"I have a lute, I can give it to you," Jaskier babbled excitedly and scrambled to his feet.

"And how's that going to help me?" Julian-Jaskier asked sceptically.

"Performances, you idiot! No-one wants to listen to just a bard; everyone loves bards with lutes. It's right— shit." He grabbed his lutestrap to find— nothing.

"What?" he scoffed. "Lost it or something?"

"What? Lost it?" He laughed nervously. "No, that's ridiculous. I just, um—" He started patting down his breeches, as if he might have hidden it there. "—misplaced it, that's it." He turned on the spot, searching the ground. He had just put it down when Geralt had gotten tired and— "Fuck!"

"You lost it?"

"I lost it."

Julian-Jaskier laughed. Actually laughed. "What?" he asked when he saw Jaskier's resentful glare. "Don't tell me you've stopped looking on the bright side of life."

"How is this the bright side?!"

"Oh, I don't know," he flashed him a wide grin. "I actually consider you losing the lute you wanted to gift—"

"Lend!"

"—yourself rather funny."

"Ughh!" Jaskier exclaimed and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You are a brat." He had no time for that. He needed to go back to Geralt and get the lute. He blinked. Nothing happened. He blinked again. And again, and again, and again, and again. Nothing. "Fuck!"

Julian-Jaskier grinned even wider. "You do realise the comedic potential in this scene, right?"

"I don't care about the comedic potential! I just want my fucking lute!" He turned away from the annoyance—really, how Geralt had allowed him to travel with him was beyond him. Oh right. He hadn't—and stared at the sky. "Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "You there, looking at all of this! Coram Agh Tera? Wade? Well, whatever your name is, you wanker, take me back to the previous one! I need my lute!"

Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, there was the barely stifled snorting laughter of Julian-Jaskier in the background, but he decided to ignore that, so it was basically nothing. "Come on, mate! I just forgot my lute! How am I supposed to help this one without a lute?"

Still no answer.

"You know, I don't really think this is going to work," Julian-Jaskier quipped.

"Shut the fuck up, you midget. I know that!"

He sighed and finally got to his feet, grimacing as he took in the ruined fabric of his breeches. "I'm sure there's another way to help me besides conjuring up your lute from thin air."

"Well, probably," Jaskier hissed, "but in any case, I'd really like my lute back. It's my lute, alright, I'm attached to it. I get it three months from now and I want it back! Right now! Right here in my hands!"

The weight was sudden and entirely unexpected, so Jaskier actually stumbled a bit. Flabbergasted, he stared down at Filavandrel's lute in his hands. "Oh," he said simply. "I suppose that works."

Julian-Jaskier looked very stupid when surprised. 'Gods, I hope I don't look like that,' Jaskier prayed. Given that his looks had barely changed since that day, however, he didn't have all too high hopes. "How did you do that?" the bardlet asked.

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully. "I just wished really hard to have a lute."

"Brilliant." His eyes gleamed. "Do you think I can do that, too?"

"No," he answered simply and thrust the lute into his hands. "Just go and do your fucking performance. I have places to be."

"Alright, alright!" Julian-Jaskier agreed and took off running towards the tavern.

'I should really do something about the dirt,' Jaskier thought as he took in the mud-caked seam of his pants. 

He blinked. 

The dirt was gone.

Julian-Jaskier looked down at himself and grinned. "Thank you!" he shouted back over the pristine shoulder of his doublet and vanished inside. 

He blinked.

His surroundings melted away once more and rebuilt themselves in a town square. Jaskier frowned, trying to remember if it looked familiar. He didn't think so, though it was hard to tell. After the first hundred or so, they all started to blur together.

What was strange, though, were the people. There were quite a lot of them and he didn't recognise any of them. 'Weird,' he thought. Come to think of it, he wasn't quite sure he had even seen their clothes before. It reminded him of the garb his parents and grandparents used to wear when he'd been a child. It had to be one of Geralt's memories, then.

The faint ringing of swords filled the air as terror gripped him. "Oh no," Jaskier whispered hoarsely as his surroundings shifted again in a nauseating whirl. 

He blinked. 

Even before he saw the woman's corpse he knew exactly where—or rather when—he was. Geralt had never told him of this story, not really, at least. But he had heard rumours, and then, after meeting the witcher, had gathered as many stories as he could to find, to get to the truth at the core of it. 

"Incredible," an old, bearded man said as he knelt at her side. "Marilka," he said and stumbled to his feet. "Marilka? Marilka! Get me a cart. We'll take her to the tower for an autopsy."

Jaskier felt the overwhelming urge to punch Stregobor in the face. He probably could have. He probably should have. But before he had a chance, there was a bloodied blade at the mage's throat. "If you touch a single hair on her head," Geralt growled, "yours will be on the ground next." It was Geralt, quite obviously so. Still, he looked different. Younger, in a way. Much less guarded than the man he knew, with a wild look in his eyes Jaskier had never seen before.

"Have you gone mad?" Stregobor asked. "Her mutation, it influences people. That's how she got these men to follow her." His eyes narrowed just a bit. "She got to you, too, didn't she?"

"Do not," Geralt snarled, "touch her."

"Witcher," the mage answered in the most condescending voice imaginable and, oh, Jaskier definitely would punch him now, "you butchered bodies in the streets of Blaviken."

"You're a beast," a man called from the crowd.

"You endangered the girl," a woman added and Jaskier decided that all of them could bugger off, thank you very much.

"I think this is quite enough," he said calmly as he stepped forward, shifting in front of Geralt as time came to a halt. "Lower your sword, dear. Please."

The witcher stared down at him in confusion. "What-" He blinked a few times and his gaze cleared. "Jaskier," he whispered.

"The very same," he said and bowed with a flourish. "The sword, love." He squeezed his hand lightly and watched with relief as Geralt did as he was told. "Let me take care of this mess for you."

The witcher nodded and the world started spinning again. "Good people of Blaviken," he began and opened his arms. The familiar weight of his lute appeared much faster than the first time. "You can count yourselves lucky, for on this day you are in the presence of not only the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia, but also the master bard Jaskier. Truly, you are in for the performance of a lifeti-"

"Jaskier," Geralt hissed quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

"This is not really the place for a performance." He pointed at the corpses and the townspeople who stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Ughh. Right. And then there was also-

"Who do you even think you are?" puffed Stregobor.

"Jaskier, the bard, and I don't like repeating myself," he quipped. "So, I suggest you shut the fuck up, old man." Immediately, his mouth snapped shut. Still, Jaskier wasn't finished: "You are a bumbling idiot who keeps babbling about some mutation nonsense. It's not her fault that you have the charisma of a wooden spoon and lack any kind of imagination. Really, it is not that hard to believe that a woman could inspire people. You are a pitiful creature."

The people around him still stared in open-mouthed bewilderment. "Close your mouth, dear, I'm not done, yet," he told Geralt and tipped his jaw up. He really should do something about all the bodies.

Jaskier frowned, concentrating hard. Shrouds appeared from thin air and covered the corpses and the blood vanished from Geralt's face. "Jaskier," the witcher growled, annoyed. Alright, maybe he had overdone it with the flower crown, but this was a dream world; when would he ever get such a chance again? "Focus."

Right. Not his strong suit, but he had a performance to deliver. And that was very much his strong suit. Gently, he plucked at the lute strings, the notes almost manifesting before he did so. "When a humble bard," he began; the song came as easy to him as breathing. 

The audience didn't seem too enthusiastic. It took him until the end of the first refrain to realise why. "Oh," he said, his lute making a dissonant twang. "I suppose I'm just about two decades early with this, aren't I?" Of course. How could he have been so stupid? 'Well, only one way to change that.'

"Toss a coin to your Witcher," he sang loudly, "Oh, valley of plenty

Oh, valley of plenty, oh

Toss a coin to your Witcher

Oh, valley of plenty!"

He blinked.

The wind tugged at him to the tune of a camp being set up. Jaskier knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. "Ah," he breathed, taking in the silhouette of Geralt sitting on the rock. And his own self approaching him. "Shit." He winced in sympathy for his heartbroken, aching self. Well, not heartbroken yet, but soon to be.

He wasn't surprised, to be honest. Not really. But fuck was he afraid of it. With all the other scenes he'd had at least a semblance of an idea of how to fix them. But this? He couldn't really change himself, could he now?

In the end, it had all worked out just fine, of course. Geralt and he had found each other again and after a bit of awkwardness and a muttered apology by Geralt they had continued travelling with each other again. While his witcher definitely wasn't a man of words, Jaskier could see his remorse just fine. He was fluent in all of Geralt's silences, and the plethora of gifts and smiles he got was better than any spoken apology in the world.

Still. It hurt.

Geralt shifted a bit, hearing his footsteps. Jaskier had to do something, and fast. "That's not really going to cut it," he muttered. His blubbering, yearning self wasn't going to be of any more assistance now than the last time. "Sorry, mate, but you have to go." With an ever so quiet pop the other Jaskier vanished.

It earned him a gruff Geralt grunt. "Jaskier," the witcher said without even turning around. "What do you want?"

'Alright, so we're doing this,' he thought and did his best to steel himself. "Nothing but a chat, old friend," he tried to say as casually as possible and sat down next to him. "Just like the good old days, hm?"

"Hmm."

"Funny. I thought you'd say that," he replied in a feeble attempt at comedy.

Geralt rolled his eyes, but didn't manage to hide the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth quite fast enough. "Jaskier."

"Not helping?"

"Hmm."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah, didn't think so."

He waited with bated breath for his witcher to say something, but apparently, he considered their conversation done. 'Looks like I have to talk myself out of this mess,' he thought. 'Like always.'

Time to put his money where his mouth was: "Look," he said and wet his lip with his tongue. "I know how it feels when people die. It's always hard. And it doesn't get any easier the more it happens."

"Your point, bard?"

He closed his eyes. He still didn't have any fucking clue on how to solve this. Only one way to go, then: "I have a proposition for you I already know the answer to. But—" He took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm his violently beating heart. "It's all been a bit much, lately, yeah? All these... djinns and children of surprise and dragons. So, why don't we get away for a while? We could head to the coast."

Geralt snorted. "Never took you for the maritime type."

"Well, I'm not," Jaskier answered, glad for the tension to lift, if only a little. "I get horribly seasick, you see? But that's not the point."

"Then what is?" They were going for the fond annoyance, apparently. It certainly was an improvement to last time.

It also loosened Jaskier's tongue; he could barely keep himself from babbling and that really wouldn't make it better. "Life's too short to spend it being unhappy. You should do what pleases you while you can."

"Composing your next song?" And there it was. The moment he'd inevitably fuck up.

"No, I just, uh-" He let his head drop. "I'd say I'm just trying to figure out what pleases me, but that's a lie. I figured that out a long time ago."

"Sleeping with other people's spouses is not really a life goal, Jaskier."

"Oh, ha ha," he retorted. "Very funny. But that's not— That's not what I'm talking about."

"What, we still haven't reached the fucking point?" he asked with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"No, I— Gosh, this is harder than I thought. It's you, Geralt. You're what pleases me."

The witcher turned to him with incredibly wide eyes despite the frown. As if he was surprised. As if he couldn't fathom why Jaskier would say that.

He shrugged. "It's true. I'm never as happy as I am at your side. Just spending time with you. You're the most important person in this world to me. In any world, really. I couldn't— I cannot bear losing you. Maybe it's selfish, but I just— I just want to have you for myself for a bit. Not share you with those who are hellbent on killing you. Not share you with anyone."

"Hmm." Geralt tilted his head to the side, a curious look Jaskier couldn't quite decipher in his eyes. In all the years of their acquaintance he had never, ever looked at him like that.

"Just— let me show you?" he begged. "Please? I know it's not what-"

But Geralt didn't let him finish. "Alright," he interrupted him. "Tomorrow."

He blinked. 

Geralt stood a few feet away with Borch and Yennefer. "The sorceress will never regain her womb," he caught the last remnants of their conversation. "And though you didn't want to lose her, you will."

"He already has," Yennefer answered with a frail voice and stormed away. Jaskier scrambled to his feet when she passed him, catching Geralt's longing gaze.

'Shit,' he thought. This would be heartbreak all over again. 'It always was going to be.'

Geralt looked down at Borch. "Hmm," he said and trudged over to Jaskier. "The coast, you said?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered.

"Hm." He shouldered past him and grumbled: "They better have some good fucking ale there." After a few steps he realised that Jaskier wasn't following him and turned around. "You coming?" he asked with an outstretched hand.

"I am," he replied and scrambled to catch up with him. "In my experience, they also have excellent vodka," Jaskier joked and grasped Geralt's hand tightly. 

He blinked.

It was a clear day on the cliffside. The ocean stretched out to the horizon in all its deep, dark blue glory, its waves crashing gently on the rocky shore. "Oh," Jaskier simply said.

"Hmm," Geralt replied and draped an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.

'This is so much better than being here alone,' he thought. "It's beautiful," he said.

"It's nice," Geralt said. From the witcher that was probably as poetic as it got. And, oh, that curious look in Geralt's eyes looked even better with a smile accompanying it.

A warm feeling filled his chest. 'I really could get used to this,' he thought. "There's another thing, Geralt," he blurted suddenly. "I lo-"

He blinked.

The world turned upside down. He cursed himself for being so fucking stupid. Because, of course, he had not only ruined the probably single-most romantic scene to confess his feelings for Geralt, the worst also, apparently, was still ahead of him. 

Jaskier had never been to Kaer Morhen before. Geralt hadn't even trusted him enough to betray so much as the smallest detail of its location. Still, there could be no doubt as to where he had ended up this time. Not with the vials and jars and jugs full of dubiously coloured liquids. Not with the witcher and mage looming over the scene, whose presence Jaskier barely registered.

All he saw were the wide, terrified, hazel eyes of the boy straining against the shackles tying him to the table. "No," Geralt begged, "please, Vesemir, I can't."

"Yes, you can," the old witcher answered. "It'll be over before you know it."

"No," Jaskier whispered, his eyes widening in horror. "No, I won't let that—"

He blinked.

Vesemir was gone, though Jaskier thought he might hear the distant sound of retching. The mage was still there, mumbling quietly in Elder.

"No!" he shouted again and leapt forward to push him back, to get him to stop, to- His hands passed right through him. As if he wasn't even there. As if he was a ghost. "No, stop, I won't-!"

He blinked.

The pain hit him completely unprepared, punching the air from his lungs. Wheezing, Jaskier staggered on his feet. He felt himself reminded of his first meeting with Geralt. Only that this time it didn't stop.

He could feel the burn of the toxins in his veins as his blood rushed, his body twisting, fighting, transforming. The boy on the table strained against his shackles, his mouth open with a silent plea he could not utter.

Jaskier could, though. Blinding pain ripped through his body as his knees gave out beneath him. A horrible scream erupted from his mouth, agony consuming any semblance of humanity.

After what seemed an eternity the pain ebbed off again; the burning fire in his body still pulsing, threatening to come back.

"No," Jaskier whispered, his vision still clouded from agony, but Geralt was still there. Had to still be there. "I won't let you suffer."

White hot pain surged again. "No!" he commanded, cried, sobbed. "No... Please—!" He screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, until his throat was sore, raw, burning. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he could no more and Geralt and he were coughing up blood.

The pain flared and Jaskier's voice gave out. 'I can't do this any longer.' He didn't- He couldn't- He couldn't talk. 'But I don't need words to imagine.'

With a trembling hand he reached out, strained until his fingertips grazed over Geralt's arm— And collapsed. Jaskier sobbed, and thrashed, and curled himself up into a little ball, suddenly wishing for the same chains Geralt wore. That way he had at least something to hold onto. Jaskier had nothing.

Nothing but pain.

An agonised whine sounded from above him. Jaskier whimpered. He wanted to reach out, wanted to soothe him, wanted to— But he couldn't. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he barely could think as the world flickered around him. He wasn’t strong enough. 

He sobbed. ‘No,’ he thought. 'No, it can’t end here, I can’t wake up yet, I need to stay— I need it to make it stop for him. I need to, I have to, I must.'

He braced himself. The world flickered again. A soft sound of music floated down to him, a chant in Elder. For the next onslaught he was ready. As ready as one could be. He breathed in, let the pain fill him until it almost became too much. 'No,' he decided. Then again, more forceful: 'No! This is not who you are.' The pain twisted and churned in his gut, like liquid fire, but he would take it. He would take it all, if need be.

'You are human.' A second voice joined the first in its chant. He ignored them both. His eyes shut as tightly as he could, Jaskier imagined, flickering reality be damned. An incredible feeling rushed through him. Like flying. Suddenly, it was almost easy. He didn't imagine the pain away, that was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine it differently instead. He could imagine rightful anger, or heartfelt grief; and even a tiny sliver of hope.

'You are kind.' He could imagine laughter and tears, embraces and kisses and smiles. He could imagine songs and poems and jokes. Friendship and love and family. He could imagine dragons, knights and mages, queens, kings, and children of surprise. He could imagine bards and horses, elves, selkiemores, djinns.

'You are worthy of all good things in life and more.' He couldn't imagine the pain away. That was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine so much else that the pain became insignificant.

He didn't know when it stopped, or why. Jaskier opened his eyes and looked at his hands. He tilted his head to the side. Something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was different. He hadn’t even noticed how transparent he had been before. But he wasn’t anymore. He looked just as real as his surroundings. 

Jaskier looked up to meet Geralt's eyes, glaring gold in the dark. "Thank you," he whispered.

He nodded shakily and rose up on his knees.

He blinked.

A voice behind them spoke up: "Again."

Jaskier stood on his trembling legs. "No," he commanded. "Enough."

The mage attempted to step forward. Jaskier glared at him and the man stopped, frozen with one foot in the air. "No," he repeated, "you have no power here. You are a memory, a dream, a fantasy. And I do not want to continue this dream!" With every word the air around them began vibrating, as the feeling filled him again. It felt like floating. 

"Get lost!" he yelled. The door flung open, frozen air coasting in. "You are not welcome here."

He took a step forward and the mage stepped back, his form flickering. "You never were, and never will be. Get lost"

"Who do you think you are?" the mage scoffed. "With what magic do you think you can best me?"

Jaskier laughed hoarsely. "I am Geralt's friend," he declared. The ground shook with every step he took. "I am no mage, no witcher, no Child of Elder Blood. Just a bard with a lute. Just a man with an imagination.” The calm feeling within him dissipated, a storm brewing within his stomach. Not like liquid fire, but like frozen lightning. The air around him thrummed, wind swirling through the laboratory. “And I told you to get. LOST!"

"No," the mage wheezed, "you can't-" His body flickered again. And flickered. And blinked out of existence. 

"How dare you?" the Count de Lettenhove boomed, looming up dangerously before him. "My own-"

"GET LOST!" Jaskier yelled. He vanished and his mother appeared in his stead. "Get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost!" With every word he said another ghost appeared in the chamber. Stregobor, Yennefer, Renfri, his brother, his sister, Queen Calanthe, Visenna. Faces he knew like the back of his hand and others he had never seen before blurred together before his eyes in a nauseating whirlwind of impressions.

He sobbed and thrashed and laughed as he banished each and every one of them to whatever circle of hell they had crawled forth from. Floating, flying, his mind clawing at the edges of the reality he rewrote. The castle around him trembled and shook like his knees, stones and memories collapsing, falling, vanishing before crushing them. He was at the eye of the storm, clouds of wind and darkness swirling around him, interspersed with lighting. It hurt, it burned, it stung, but he did not stop. Could not stop. Would not stop. 

Until it was over. 

Jaskier hadn’t even noticed it. He probably never would have noticed if not for the boy tugging at his hand. "It's pretty."

"What is?" Jaskier mumbled weakly. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. It took him a while to process the beautiful winter landscape that stretched out before him. It looked like it had been plucked straight from a storybook. It had everything it needed: a lake, covered with a thick layer of ice, an orchard adorned with icicles, a hill to go sledding. Picture-perfect.

Well. A storybook where the snow was green, the trees purple and the sky orange, eternally stuck in sunset with no sun to be seen.

Still. It looked beautiful. Serene, even. Even more magnificent than he had imagined. "Thank you," he answered, his voice much quieter than the enthusiastic child's on his other side. "I'm Jaskier," the boy said.

The boy on his right smiled widely and extended his hand: "Geralt."

"That's a nice name." Child-Jaskier shook it excitedly. "I can already tell that we're going to be the best of friends."

"That would be nice," Geralt answered.

"What do I do now?" Jaskier and Jaskier asked.

"Hmm." Geralt frowned, apparently thinking hard. "Do you know how to build a snowman?"

"I do," they replied.

"I never built a snowman."

"Come," child-Jaskier said and tugged on his hand. "I'll show you."

Jaskier watched the two boys slip down the hill on their butts. He watched them run to the lake, watched them build a green snowman. He was relieved, he realised. Relieved, to see them happy. Still, the question remained: 'What do I do now?'

"Man," a bored voice next to him made him whip around. The dandelion yawned. Made a yawning sound. Whatever. "I already told you what to do."

"You!" he raised an accusatory finger. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, man," it sighed heavily. "This is your dreamworld." 

"Fuck," he muttered. "Can't you at least help me figure out the rest of the poem?"

"I already did. Just follow the instructions. Follow—"

“—your heartbeat to the horizon, then take the second turn right after the battle field, I know,” he grumbled. “Have I reached the horizon yet?”

“I don’t know,” it responded. “Have you?”

“Probably not,” he sighed. “Will you come with me while I continue?”

“Can you imagine that?”

He smiled and began walking again. “I guess I can.” They journeyed in silence for a while. But try as he might, the horizon didn’t seem to come any closer.  Jaskier groaned loudly; he really should have guessed that there was another mystery to that.  "Hey, you!" he shouted at the sky. "Coram Agh Tera, can you hear me? Wasn't I done with the nightmares?"

No response.

Well, almost none. "He really is an idiot," Valdo-larkspur mocked. "The sky talks as little as the trees."

Jaskier chuckled and raised his finger. "For the record, I knew you'd say that."

"Alright, braggart, don't flatter yourself," Jaskier-larkspur joined in.

"That, too," Jaskier said but the two of them didn't hear him, already too engrossed in a discussion about some trivial nonsense. 

'Alright, focus, Jaskier,' he told himself again. He had been forcing the brain fog from his mind entirely too often in the near past; it was getting harder and harder every time. And the noise of two bickering idiots behind him didn't make it any easier. On the contrary, with all the distractions he could already feel the fidgety-ness approaching. 

'Ughh.' He'd never figure it out at this rate. 

What Jaskier didn't see, of course, was that he already had done so a rather long time ago. But like I said, mortals are, first and foremost, fundamentally blind. Their imagination reaches only as far as the horizon, even that of a poet as accomplished as Jaskier.

In hindsight, his blindness was truly a blessing. If he had discovered that there was absolutely no need for him to brave the latter stages of his nightmares, his rage might have been sufficient to shake him from his slumber. And then where would we have been?

So, he had no choice but to figure out the mystery that was no mystery at all all over again.

"Could you two shut up?" he snarled at the larkspurs. "If you're not going to help me, you can at least be quiet!"

"Well, someone got off on the wrong foot," Valdo-larkspur quipped.

"Yeah," Jaskier-larkspur agreed. "And for the record, we did help you. We gave you instructions. It's not our fault if you're too much of a fool to follow them."

Jaskier frowned. "Fool?" he breathed. 'And when they’re gone the fools remain,

A garden grows with no sustain.'

"Hey!" the buttercup complained. "You shouldn't be so mean to him. He's doing his best."

"Oh, yeah?" the larkspurs taunted. "His best isn't very good then, huh?"

"Man, just leave him alone," the dandelion joined in and before he knew it, the four of them were arguing viciously. 

Jaskier paid them no mind. He glanced around warily, trying to parse out whatever 'no sustain' meant. It couldn't be anywhere around the lake, then, nor the lilac forest. The blue mountains were an option, but he didn't think it likely. 

'Come descend into the sky.' 

He tipped his head up to the sky above. 'It's empty,' he realised. No sun. No clouds. No nothing. But descend into the sky? He couldn't imagine that. Could he?

A faint smile spread on his face. 

'How to find my mighty throne?

The answer’s plain: you don’t.'

"So, it was that simple, huh?" he said to no-one in particular as he stretched out a hand to touch the invisible barrier of the horizon, still impossibly far away. “The second turn to the right, is it?” he murmured and turned into the direction of the blue mountains, keeping one hand still on the skyline. 

"Well, would you look at that," a gruff voice said as the lark landed on his shoulder, "the weirdo actually knows how to follow instructions."

"You again," he deadpanned. "How did you get here?"

"I flew. Obviously."

"Obviously," Jaskier echoed stupidly.

"So," the lark said and picked at the feathers under its wing, "have you figured it out yet?"

He huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head. "It's really quite easy, isn't it?"

"You tell me."

"Why," Jaskier said and closed his eyes, "you flip the world upside down. Obviously."

"Obviously," the lark replied stupidly.

Jaskier opened his eyes and as the sky stretched out beneath him. It was an easy thing for him to take a step. And another one. And then, let himself drift into that bright realm of uncertainty.

And so, he did.

He had already gotten quite far down into the sky when suddenly his descent was cut short. "The fuck?" he muttered. He took a few experimental steps to the left and right, eyeing the fog curling around his ankles warily. But try as he might, he couldn't descend any further. "Are we there yet?" he called up to the flowers that were still waiting on the surface.

"Almost," the lark replied, gliding down to him. "Just open the door."

"What door?" He could see nothing but orange sky. He turned into the direction he had come from and marched forward. He hit the door face-first. "Fuck!" he cursed, holding his nose that should be bleeding by all rights.

"You found it!" The flowers cheered from the ground. It was weird, seeing them hang from the ceiling like this. Or the ground. Whatever. This was already weird enough without wondering about semantics. 

Besides, he had more important stuff to do. Like opening an invisible door.

"Shit," he cursed, blindly scrabbling at the solid surface that had materialised out of thin air. "Is there a handle or something? A knob? Or— ah, fuck!" He turned the knob and immediately stumbled through, falling a solid foot before landing in soft powder snow. 

Jaskier groaned and turned onto his back, staring at the solid wooden door hovering in the air above a wintery garden. "Sure," he muttered and got to his feet with a resigned shrug. "Why not?" He started dusting off his clothes. "I'm already talking to birds and flowers, why not a door in a fucking—"

"Jaskier?"

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