#since i read anything not to my taste as crack it means i get to laugh a lot

[fernandopiastri28]

high for this ~ oscar piastri

Notes:

i am officially finished with holidays and back to school :/ so im going to be posting a lot less but i do have a few works just rotting in my drafts so i'll probably just be changing the names of characters and posting them. (not proof read so i apologise if there's any mistakes)

warnings: smut, weed, drug use, mdni

Oscar mindlessly lays sprawled out on his bed, his muscles aching from the gym earlier in the day. He tenderly rubs his hamstring, trying to nurse it back to not being too sore for his match tomorrow. 

He has some music playing as quietly as possible, a pulsing tune of some heavy rap. It’s not really to his taste, but he’s bored with his own playlists at the moment. His phone is near the foot of his outstretched left leg, while his right leg is tucked up towards his torso, his knee pointing high towards the ceiling. Both hands are hard at work around his right leg, his fingers pressing into the tough flesh.

He feels a buzz travel through his left foot as his nails dig into his skin. He makes a note to cut them. He hears the buzz too, this time over the sound of the music. He sits up awkwardly, wincing at the strain on his leg. Using his left hand, he picks up his phone and checks the two new messages he’s received. 

It’s Talia, unsurprisingly. She should be asleep, though, she promised him she’d start working on fixing her sleep schedule. He clicks the notifications, squinting to see the messages with the medical white lights flashing in his eyes in comparison to the darkened room.

tals🧡: you up?

tals🧡: do u wanna come over

Oscar shifts around in his bed so his back is pressed against a stack of pillows. He brings his hand away from his hamstring, ignoring the dull shoot of pain that runs up his leg once it loses his attention.  

They don’t do a lot of sneaking over to each other's houses, simply because they can see enough of one another during school days, so it isn’t anything essential. They get in all the kissing, cuddling, and make outs they want to during the day, so if she’s suggesting this, it means sex. 

Not necessarily just sex, anything within the umbrella of sexual activity. Oscar shifts his hips, trying to decide what he wants to do. They live pretty far from each other, meaning for him to sneak over, it's a 25-minute walk each way since he can’t just take the family car. It’s late—nearing midnight—and he’s sore. On the other hand, he’s horny.

And at Talia’s house, she doesn’t live with her parents. She lives with two of her close friends, skipped out on the college experience after her first year. Oscar didn’t get that luxury, much like his older sisters. Both of them lived at home for uni. But while she’s off now in France, he’s still a third year university student. Since her family won’t even be there, they don’t have to worry about being sneaky or quiet.

Oscar: Yeah. See you soon

He unplugs his phone and slips his feet into the pair of slides that are sitting at the foot of his bed. He opens his wardrobe, grazing his fingers over the line up of shirts that rest there. He grabs a graphic white t-shirt, wrestling it on. He cracks open his door, walking past his sister’s and the guest room, both vacant. His parents are on the level upstairs, so they can’t hear any disturbance he’s making. 

He settles for catching the bus instead, unwilling to walk up to an hour. He sits down in a row of empty seats, ducking his head down and popping an earbud in. There’s a scarce number of other people on the bus, two girls sitting close together, their heads spinning drunkenly. An old man, greying hair and a newspaper in his callused hands.

tals🧡: come thru window. sammy will bark otherwise.

Oscar replies with the hard thought out reply of a thumbs up before re-pocketing his phone, staring mindlessly out of the window at the dark surroundings that whip by. 

Oscar gets off at his stop 10 minutes later, and he’s the last person on the bus by that point. He approaches Talia’s house, not even bothering to go through the front door- Sammy would bark and wake the whole house up. He clicks open the gate, dragging it out only just enough to slip in. He walks across the side of the house, tapping on her bedroom window once he gets to it. He presses a hand to his pocket, making sure the pack of condoms he grabbed are still there.

The curtains swish open and Talia’s standing there, fiddling to get the window open. Once it's open, he feels a rush of cold air hitting him, accompanied by the smell of something almost like diesel. “Hey,” He grins as she leans down. 

She narrowly avoids the kiss he’s going for, giving him one on the corner of his mouth. “Sorry- god, it’s dark,” Her shadow rubs her eyes, reaching out a hand to help him in. 

Climbing in through the window isn’t a difficult task- just slightly uncomfortable. His crotch rubs against the window pane as he brings his second leg over into her room. Talia wraps her arms around his waist as soon as he’s inside. “Hi, Oscccc,” She looks up at him, her teeth gleaming white. 

Just as Oscar is about to reply, the petrol smell hits him even harder. He crinkles his nose, confused as to what it is. “Tals, what the hell have you been smoking in here?,” He laughs, his hands grabbing at her ass to get her to wrap her legs around his waist. His voice is thick with sarcasm, Talia is the furthest thing from a druggy possible.

“Weed,” She rubs her lips into his shoulder, mouthing at the fabric of her shirt. Her mouth is dry, barely wetting the cloth. Oscar’s eyebrows knit, tensing in confusion. “Got a joint, was bored,” She mumbles. 

He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. At the same time, it’s late- his mind is cloudy anyways. He looks past her, at her bed where there’s a metal tin and a joint laying on top of it. Explains the smell then. “Fuck Talia,” He lets out a deep breath, “Maddie and Amber can definitely smell it,” He groans.

Talia laughs, her voice thick and loopy. “Nah, they cleared out tonight so I could do this.” She pulls away from the embrace, tugging him after her by his shirt. She falls back against the bed, her eyes clearly red rimmed from the dim lighting over her bed. “Cmonnn Opie, wanna get stoned with you,”

It’s so strange to see her like this, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hot. It’s so unexpected, such a pleasant surprise from his usually wound up and rule following girlfriend. Oscar’s resistance weakens, the sight of her laying there- a goofy grin plastered across her voice is enough to make the strong man give in. 

He hovers over her on the bed, a knee on either side of her hips and a hand on either side of her head. “You’re insane,” His mouth meets red, puffy lips for a kiss. She’s hungry for it, bringing her hands up to his hair to tug him down. 

“More,” Talia begs, her voice breathy. Her pupils are huge and there's a spacey look in her eyes. Oscar teases her, shaking his head as he slightly resists kissing her any further than little pecks.

“I want a drag,” He whispers, reaching over her to where the blunt is precariously resting. He places it in between his lips, the bitter taste already seeping into his mouth. “Light it up,” He murmurs around the lump in his mouth. 

Her mouth and ears feel as if they’ve been packed with cotton, his voice is far away and just barely a noise. “You don’t know how to,” She giggles weakly, her fingers pinching the fabric of his shirt that hangs down onto her.

Oscar gets off of her, sitting against the head of her bed. His legs are spread, his body slumped down comfortably. “Teach me,” He pats the space in front of his lap, his eyes looking up through his lashes. Talia’s mind is foggy with weed, lust, and need. She’s willing to do anything. 

“Take this,” she pushes a plastic water bottle into one of his hands, already unscrewed and partially drunk. “You’re gonna cough a lot- the water will help with that,” she explains, leaning forward with her hands propped up on his quads, pushing the hem of his shorts higher up. 

She reaches over to where the bottle had been and her fingers feel numb as they wrap around the lighter. “You feel good?” She asks as he twists the joint around between his lips. He doesn’t quite know how to answer, it feels like a question for after he’s actually smoked it. He nods regardless, tensing his leg muscles under her hands.

“I’m gonna light it, okay?” Another question from her. Her voice is becoming harder to understand, the true effects of the weed settling into her. It’s bizarre to him, this whole situation. “And you just try to inhale as much as possible,” She waits for a nod of competency from him before continuing. “Don’t let it just rest in your throat- it’ll burn. If you can’t do a lot, just do it in small bits,” 

Oscar’s hand snakes behind her, resting on the small of her back. “Ready,” He mumbles awkwardly. She clicks down on the lighter and a flame flickers, wavering just below his nose. 

“Don’t stress it,” She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed and his nails are digging into the fabric of her shirt. It’s almost euphoric at first, then it’s hell. Heat fills his mouth and he’s coughing and wheezing. He did exhale- probably too much. 

He feels Talia’s hands all over him, her coldness contrasting against the warmth throbbing through himself. She takes the spliff from his mouth, sucking down on it herself. Oscar watches her hazily, his bottom lip tucked under teeth. 

“How long have you been doin’ this?” The words feel as if they’re not coming from him. Jesus, surely he’s not baked already. He feels the heavy weight of the joint being pushed between his lips again, his question seemingly going unanswered. 

He takes it, breathing it in again. He doesn’t let it rest in his throat, he focuses on the inhale. He doesn’t cough as much this time, but he still guzzles down what’s left in the bottle. 

They spend a few minutes alternating the spliff, blowing air into eachothers faces. The room reeks of weed and it’s boiling hot. He wipes the back of his neck with his hand, a line of sweat gathering there. She twists the hem of his shirt between her index and thumb, pulling it up slightly. She doesn’t need to ask- he takes it off for her. 

“I started when I first moved here,” She finally answers his question from earlier, dragging a thumb down his cheek, rubbing the back of his jawline. “I think one of Mads’ friends gave her a bunch because she was moving- couldn’t take ‘em. Us three smoked them one night, it was fun,” She mumbles. It means she’s only been doing it for about 3 years now. 

He tilts his head, resting it against a pillow. She presses the pad of her thumb into his bottom lip that he’s unconsciously pouting out- asking for either another drag or a kiss. “Wanted to introduce you,” Her lips turn into a smirk, her eyes half-lidded.

“And why’s that?” He teases, his other hand moving down to her ass. Talia looks to the side behind him, a knowing look on her face. She pulls herself into his lap, effectively straddling him.

“I wanted to get high,” She states plainly, “and when I’m high- I’m horny. Wanted to be like that with you,” Her eyes are bright and her cheeky are rosy. Oscar kisses her cheek, experimenting with how his mouth is getting drier and more uncomfortable. Once he feels some moisture returning, he kisses further along her jaw. 

She has the spliff in her mouth which forces him away from her mouth. He focuses on her jaw and neck, suckling near her collarbone. She moans, tugging his hair and effectively his head back up. She places the joint in his mouth again and pulls on the pillow behind him. He tilts his head enough for her to move it out of the way, leaving him laying down almost completely flat. 

 He watches dazily as she pulls her top off, leaving her in a lacy white bra. He reaches out, his fingers barely feeling her flesh. He knows he’s touching her, she’s making noises to confirm it. “ More , more , fuck ,” She’s begging, her voice so desperate. Oscar wishes he wasn’t so fucking spacey right now so he could see how wanton she was over him. 

He tips his head forward, looking past where smoke is burning into his eyes. He’s apparently not just touching her bra, he’s touching her fully exposed breast. He hasn’t realised up until this point that he’s actually hard. 

“Can I shotgun you?” She asks, her fingers snaking over his nipples. He whimpers at the touch and his mouth drops open around the blunt. He knows he’s out of it, but he’s consciously thinking enough to know that shotgunning is either claiming the front seat in a car, or piercing a beer can and then drinking it as fast as possible.

He settles with the assumption it must be the second one. He lols his head to the side, searching for where the beer is. “Yeah,” He hums, his hand dropping down over the edge of the bed and his hand swinging with the intention of hitting a can that isn’t actually there.

Talia laughs, tugging on his bicep. “Shotgun- I puff smoke into your mouth,” She explains, her voice all raspy from being so dry. Oscar licks over his teeth, his mouth still painfully dry. His mind feels empty, the only resounding thought is just talia, talia, talia. There are a few other ideas, sex stuff, nothing coming close to being as important as making her happy.

She leans forward, plucking the joint from his mouth. He gets a breath of fresh air and begins to gasp for it- a telltale sign he’s had too much in one go. He hollows his cheeks, cleaning the taste of smoke out of his mouth with spit. It’s a useless attempt as it’s already well stained.

She slides two fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his bottom teeth. She lays down on him, her legs still hooked around his hips and a hand pressing to the headboard above him. Their chests are pressing together, her boobs heavy on him. He stares at them, shamelessly, his cock getting even harder to the point he’s beginning to actually feel it. 

“Can you suck my cock?” His voice is strangled and on the verge of incoherency because of her digits pressing into his tongue. She nods, kissing the tip of his nose. Her other hand is still holding onto the spliff, just sliding it against her wettened bottom lip. She finally sucks down on it, her lips twisting around it to keep the smoke in.

His mouth opens out of instinct, his eyes going bright just thinking about her mouth. The second their lips meet and he feels a slow release of smoke into his mouth, he feels like he’s dying. His eyes roll back and he grips a hand to the back of her head, pushing their mouths into each other’s harder.

He’s kissing her like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It’s disgustingly dirty, a combination of spit, teeth, tongues and far too much moaning. Being stoned apparently just makes him feel everything . His lips are on fire, his throat is on fire, his eyes are on fire, his dick is on fire. 

Their mouths pull apart, sticky from the remnants of lip gloss that Talia has on. He peppers her face with a few more kisses, desperate for the stinging burn. They look at each other for a few moments, a complete disconnect from the two of them and the rest of the world. 

“You still want it?” She’s semi sitting up now, her elbows resting on where his hips are poking out from his low sitting shorts. His mind goes blank at the question, unsure of what she could possibly asking.

“What?” He lets out a puff of air, his hand mindlessly travelling through her hair. She nudges low down on his abdomen with her nose, making a weird squeaking whine. 

“Suck you off,” She looks up at him, the green in her eyes barely just a thin ring around her blown up pupils. Oscar nods, shifting further down the bed. Her fingers hook into his waistband, an invitation. His eyes flicker shut, already wasted off the feeling of her hands tugging his shorts down. 

Cold air whacks into the tops of his thighs, the dark fluffs of hair standing up. Oscar doesn’t need to tell her what to do, it seems like every time she’s gotten baked before this has been spent with her preparing for this. 

Talia begins aimlessly mouthing at his crotch, licking and kissing over where the head is resting. Her mouth is wetter than his, seemingly soaked with saliva. He takes a drag from the blunt, his fingers retracting and stretching to scratch her head. She purrs at the motion, getting more eager around him. 

“Cmon princess,” Oscar murmurs, helping to slide his boxers down to mid thigh. He doesn’t wince or shiver when it meets the cold air as there’s barely any time for it to do so. The second he’s fully undressed, her warm mouth is engulfing his length. 

She bobs her head up and down, her lips tightening around his shaft and her cheeks hollowing for him. He’s pushing her head down without realising, the pressure is light but definitely suggestive. 

She doesn’t gag, just takes him further. He encourages her with a string of moans mindlessly escaping his mouth, mixed in with ‘ oh god, good girl’ and ‘that's perfect, princess, keep going’. He’ll smoke or eat edibles every weekend if this is how getting head feels like when he does.

Her nose presses into his crotch, her throat muscles working hard to accommodate the intrusion of him. He tries to touch her, help her get off while she’s giving him the blowjob he’s ever received but the way she’s lying with the rest of her body so far away, he settles for focusing the pleasure elsewhere.

He rubs his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. She whimpers and whines, her moans choking into noises that sound like she’s crying. Her face is reddened and her hair is sweaty, her fringe plastered down to her forehead with sweat.

“Close, I’m close,” He twists some of her hair around his index, his middle finger tapping into the top of her hair. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and tensed eyebrows. 

“In me,” She gags around his length. She doesn’t need to ask twice. He fucks his hips up into her mouth, forcing a moan and a gag from the back of her throat as he releases into her. 

He feels spent, his body aching worse than it did back at home. 

She pulls off slowly, her lips oiled with spit and cum. Her neck muscles flicker with tension as she swallows it down. That’s new. She’s strictly been a ‘spitter’ to this very moment. He wipes a drop of cum off her lip and kisses her deep. He tastes himself in her mouth but there's hardly any recognition for it. He doesn’t care enough to be disgusted about it, nothing about kissing her is disgusting.

“You’re perfect,” He slips his tongue into her mouth, tugging her up to be laying on top of him. “Wanna make you feel good,” He moves his head, kissing down her neck.

Talia lets out a noise of confirmation, “please,” she whines burying her fingers against his scalp. From the awkward angle he’s at, he slips her pants down past her ass, her underwear at the same time. 

He rubs a finger over her wet hole, teasing it. She lets out a stifled whimper, burying her face further into Oscar’s chest. He slides the finger in slowly, watching the bits of her face that he can see intently. She’s shying away, forcing her face away from his view.

“You’re all shy now?” He teases, massaging one of her breasts with his palm. She doesn’t reply, just keens on him, desperate for more. He pushes his finger fully in, sliding it in and out. “Look at me, pretty,” He kisses her forehead, nudging the spot with his nose. 

She reluctantly looks up before snuggling into his neck. It’s a drastic difference from how she was only minutes earlier. He pushes a second finger in, knowing her all too well that she’s needy for it. She groans, scraping her teeth down along his shoulder.

He groans, throwing his head back. He knows what he’s doing, not needing to even look. He pushes in and out, deeper and just as controlled. Her walls tighten around him, her wetness slicking down over his palm and around his wrist. His thumb joins in, rubbing along her clit. 

“Oz,” it comes out all jagged and breathy. “Fuck- need to,” She can’t finish her sentences at this point, pushed so close to the edge. He gives her a whisper of allowance, his breath hot against her ear. 

“Come for me,” He instructs her, his thumb applying more pressure as he feels a gush of wetness spill down his occupied hand. She’s gasping, panting for air when it happens. His body is still trying to regain full senses from the weed, barely noticing how deep her nails are digging into his sides, leaving red crescent moons into his skin.

Once she’s come down from her high, Talia rolls onto the space next to him on the bed. They watch each other, laying on their sides as they share the joint. They puff smoke at each other, laughing over absolutely nothing. 

“You’re staying tonight?” Whether it's a statement or a question is unsure, just how she intended. Oscar cranes his head to where he can see the sun is peeking out and beginning to set. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay right here,” He hums as the two of them both nod off to a hazy, stoned induced sleep.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x original character

[screampied]

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

#★vegasbaby. #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #female reader #anime smut #cw sex mention

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Any more Raider!Joel? 🥺🥺

I’ll sell my soul for anything about raider Joel

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1.3k / raider!Joel x fem!Reader / raider master

mood board by @milla-frenchy

WARNINGS: Dark fluff.  Angst.  Mention of cum. Aftermath of skin carving. Joel carries reader. Sleep kissing, grinding. Angst: Joel is mean in the morning. Credits/shoutouts: everyone who's asked about kissing him, @javier-penas-wifexx420 (shoes)

🖤 picks up from Raider: J. Miller

You pause on the way up the hill.  "It hurts," you whimper, cowering and holding yourself where he claimed you. Your chest burns, too. 

"C'mere," he says and hoists you up over his shoulder for the rest of the walk. Joel's trailer overlooks the stash house and gravel road so he can see trouble coming.  He sets you down, holds the door open for you, then lets it close behind him.

"Got ya somethin'," he says as he puts down the duffle bag on the table. He takes out a few wash cloths then a faded red can.  Chef Boyardee.

-

You could cry, you're so grateful. You throw your arms around him.  He stays tense and doesn't hug you back.  He hardens his face and says, "Take a rest. I'll be outside cookin'."  You curl up on Joel’s bed while he makes a fire outside and heats up the Chef Boyardee. 

When the door to the trailer opens again, you come right to the table, eyes wide like a kitten at feeding time.  It’s been a while since you had something other than squirrel.  You sit down at the small table and wait patiently.  Joel sets down a pot of beefaroni and a pot of boiled water.  He says, "Don't wanna eat too fast. make yourself sick. C'mere." He pats the stool to his left. You slide into it.  He gets a spoonful from the pot and blows on it then brings it to your mouth.  You open up and slurp it down.  It tastes and feels so good. He's right, you would probably wolf it down and make yourself sick.  

When a little bit dribbles onto your dress, Joel says "okay," and sets the spoon in the pot.  You're afraid he's mad.  "Right here." He pats his lap.  You sit on his lap side saddle and he feeds you a few more spoonfuls.  Then he hands you the spoon.  He says "slow, just like I was." He smooths your dress and  watches you eat the rest.  He unlaces your dirty converse all stars while you're eating and slips them off for you.  

You offer Joel some of the beefaroni, but he says you can have the rest of you eat it real slow. He holds a hand on your stomach then slides it down your dress, lightly grazing over your thigh, then your knee, your shin, the top of your foot.  He holds your foot in his massive hand and brushes the delicate arch with his fingers.  You squirm because it tickles and brace yourself for scolding but he doesn't. He just tightens his hand around your foot.  When you're finished with the spoonfuls, you scrape the edges of the pot with the spoon and then turn the pot up and drink as much as you can from it. For the first time in weeks your stomach feels warm and full. 

"Thank you," you say with tears in your eyes.  Joel doesn't make eye contact. He reaches for one of the washcloths and dips it into the boiled water. He puts his left arm under your right arm and braces your back. Then he starts to clean your chest, gently dabbing the trails of blood that have run up to your neck or down into your dress.  You begin to sniffle. He sighs. "Don't wanna hurt ya, sweet pea.  Don't want anyone else to, either."  

When he's done, you ask if you can go to the bathroom.  You haven't seen the carving yourself yet. He lets you stand up, then says, "you're gonna have stuff comin' out of here," lightly pushing your dress into your crack. "Maybe for days. It's a lot." He lets you go with a gentle pat on the butt.

-

You stand at the small, chipped sink and look at yourself in the cracked dirty mirror, reading the text on your chest backwards in the mirror. "J. Miller."  You almost finger the letters then remember not to touch it.  You hardly recognize yourself.  Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot.  You use the toilet and hear Joel cleaning up from dinner.  You stay in the bathroom enjoying a rare moment of privacy.  Then his footsteps get closer.  "You ok?" His face sounds like it might be right at the door. 

"Um. Yeah," you say and open the door. 

"Ok. Let's get you to bed." 

Joel tucks you into his bed.  It's an old, full size mattress on a cheap metal frame.  It's better than the sash house cots.  At least it has sheets and a blanket. 

"You're not coming?" You ask.

"No, not yet," he says.  "Gotta figure some stuff out.  Be right outside." He cracks the bedroom window before he goes outside. 

Joel goes outside and makes a fire.  You listen to it snap and pop and can hear the slosh of whiskey in a bottle.  Your whole body is spent. You shudder to think what you'd be doing if Joel hadn't saved you from FEDRA.

-

You fall asleep and don't even notice when Joel gets into bed and spoons you. 

You only wake up when he startles in his sleep, which jerks your body. He doesn't wake up, but he tightens his arm around you and his hand digs into the wounds on your chest.  You push back against his forearm and he stirs, confused. 

“My chest,” you whisper.  “You said don’t touch it.” 

"Shhhhh," he says without fully waking up.  He cups your breast and cages you, bringing his leg over yours.  His naked dick presses into you.  

Then his lips tenderly press into the nape of your neck and stay.  He’s never done that before.  It feels really good.  Warm.  Like you’re supposed to be right there in his arms. 

-

When you wake up in the morning, he’s still asleep.  You slowly, carefully turn around, his arm still draped over your side,  but loosely. Now you’re facing him.   He looks so peaceful, so harmless.  You know he’s not.  You study his face - the lines between his brows even as he sleeps, the patches in his beard, the hook of his nose, the way his lips part just slightly.  You scoot yourself closer, and your heart races.  

You dare to press your lips into his.  His arm pulls you in and his brow furrows as he just barely kisses you back.  You reach your arm over his waist to hug him as you kiss him again.  He kisses you back harder, then his cock hardens against your front.  He grunts as he grinds himself into you.  You softly moan into his mouth, then he jolts awake and pushes himself away.  

“The hell are you doin’??” He looks at you like you should know better, then averts his eyes as your face becomes pathetic and wounded.

“I - what - nothing,” you stammer softly.  

He sits up and wipes his mouth off then covers his cock for the first time and turns away.   “God damn,” he says and smooths his beard with both hands. He never meant to kiss you in the first place. 

Your eyes sting, but you want to recover. “I thought maybe I could suck your cock,” you offer.  “If you want.”  

He picks up his tight jeans from the floor and pulls them on, too disturbed to accept.  “No,” he says.  “Get dressed.”  He won’t look at you.  

On the walk down the hill to the stash house, he doesn’t say a word.  You walk a few steps behind him and admire his ass in his tight jeans. When you’re almost to the back door of the house, he says in a hushed voice, “you’re stayin’ here today.”  

He brings you back to the room with two beds.  He chains you to the radiator, briefly looks you in the face, and it seems like he's going to say something, but he doesn't. He gives your guard the key for bathroom trips, and reminds the guard what happens to him if anything happens to you.  

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging!

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @zliteraturehoe @neobanguniverse @quietlyignoringyou

#joel miller x reader #dark!Joel Miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #possessive!joel miller #raider!Joel Miller #raider!Joel #dark!Joel #possessive!joel #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #toxicanonymity ☠️ #OG!raider☠️ #tw: violence #cw: injury #raider!joel miller fluff #dark!joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #dark fluff #dark fluff ☠️

[finalmemes]

THE LOST BOYS. roleplay sentence starters of the 1987 film. feel free to edit according to scenario / pronouns. tw: violence, language, horror, blood.

hey, i liked that song.

how about this?

wait, that's from my era!

what's that smell?

smells like someone died.

i think you're really going to like living in [ location ].

any jobs around here?

looks like he's dead.

if he's dead can we go back to [ location ]?

this is a pretty cool place / for the texas chainsaw massacre.

have you seen a tv? i haven't seen a tv, [ name ]. you know what it means when there's no tv? no mtv.

[ name ], we are flat broke.

no running in the house!

rules! we've got some rules around here.

there are some bad elements around here.

you're telling me we've moved to the murder capital of the world?

well, let me put it this way. if all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once, we'd have one hell of a population problem.

read the tv guide, you don't need a tv.

excuse me, i wonder if you could help us.

we only come here to watch one thing.

i told you not to come in here anymore.

you have a generous nature. i like that in a person.

so how may i help you this evening? we have it all. the best selection in [ location ].

i look that needy, huh?

i'm at the mercy of your sex glands!

don't you have something better to do than follow me around all night?

just scoping your civilian wardrobe.

pretty cool, huh? / for a fashion victim.

listen buddy, if you're looking for the diet frozen yogurt bar, it went out of business last summer.

where the hell are you from? krypton?

i don't like horror comics.

i thought i heard something.

nobody drives this baby but me.

that's as close to town as i like to get.

noticed anything unusual about [ location ] yet?

are you guys sniffing old newsprint or something?

you think you really know what's happening here, don't you? well, i'll tell you something. you don't know shit, buddy.

we are dedicated to a higher purpose. we're fighters for truth, justice, and the american way.

there's our number on the back and pray you never need to call us.

if you want your ear pierced, i'll do it.

wanna get something to eat?

you don't have to beat me, [ name ]. you just have to try and keep up.

how far are you willing to go, [ name ]?

that's what i love about this place. you ask, and then you get.

i can never sleep with the closet door open, either. not even a crack.

don't sneak up on people like that!

how are those maggots?

you're eating maggots. how do they taste?

no hard feelings, huh?

you're one of us, bud.

[ 1st name ] wants to know what's going on. [ 2nd name ], what's going on?

bottoms up, man.

what time is it?

you need sunglasses to talk on the phone?

are you freebasing? inquiring minds want to know.

are you still in bed?

[ name ], would you do me a favor?

it's been a long time since somebody asked me out to dinner.

i'm gonna make you a sandwich.

all you do is give attitude lately.

what did you do to my dog, asshole?

you're a creature of the night, [ name ]. just like out of a comic book.

you're a vampire, [ name ]. my own [ sibling ], a goddamn shit-sucking vampire. you wait 'til mom finds out!

stay away from me, [ name ]!

you did the right thing by calling us.

you better get yourself a garlic t-shirt, buddy. or it's your funeral.

[ name ], i think we have to have a real long talk about something.

what's going on there? [ name ], i'm starting to get worried.

we should stay calm.

who's making that noise?

we've got to stick together, [ name ].

we're gonna work this out. trust me, okay?

you had me scared to death.

i can't believe you people.

can i sleep in here with you tonight?

what's happening to me, [ name ]?

we've been aware of some very serious [ creature ] activity in town for a long time.

[ location ] has become a haven for the undead.

as a matter of fact, we're almost certain that ghouls and werewolves occupy high position at city hall.

kill your brother. you'll feel better.

are we gonna have company again?

hi, i didn't hear you come in!

[ name ], what's the matter with you?

what's gotten into you tonight?

our batting average isn't terrific, is it?

if you ever want to see [ name ] again, you better come with us now.

initiation's over, [ name ]. time to join the club.

i have to talk to you. can i come up?

you drank someone's blood? are you crazy?!

why didn't you kill me last night?

what are you doing here? what do you want from me?

i got connections.

i don't want you going down there.

if something happens down there, i won't have the strength to protect you.

chill out, [ name ].

where did you say you met these guys?

we're on the right trail. flies and the undead go together like bullets and guns.

this isn't funny.

i'm not kidding! they're coming to the house as soon as it gets dark!

i better get cleaned up, then.

they'll be coming for all of us.

i say we terminate them right now.

you missed, sucker.

holy shit! it's the attack of eddie munster!

you afraid to face me, [ name ]?

don't let them see me like this.

nothing's changed.

has everyone gone crazy? what's the matter with all of you?

is everybody okay?

how much do you think we should charge them for this?

one thing about living in [ location ] i never could stomach. all the damn vampires.

#horror sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp memes #writing prompts #horror prompts #the lost boys sentence starters #film sentence starters

[yueisyum]

Ex Yuta x reader

angsty

smuty

🙏🏽🥺 please

“Hey” Yuta awkwardly greets from his couch, he had looked up from his phone when the door opened. Revealing you, your hands are occupied with a big box, forcing you to reply verbally. “Hi…” you didn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper, and you also didn’t mean to sound so sad.

“Are you here for mark?” He puts his Phone down at his side, giving you his full attention. You simply nod to him while looking around his apartment, one you’ve seen a million times before, He looked at you like he was expecting something more, when you said nothing he nods to himself. “He’ll be here in like thirty minutes. Said he had to run some errands” You drop the box in your hands with a puff. The box falls to the ground but doesn’t fall over.

You’re upset because you know mark did this on purpose, ever since you and yuta separated, he’s been trying to get you two to talk. You should’ve known he would do something like this. Giving you a very specific time to get to his dorm, telling you the doors would be unlocked and to bring the project supplies. Curse him.

Yuta also seemed to have put two and two together as well. You weren’t planing on seeing him here, you’ve been subtly avoiding him around campus, making sure to not to run into him. for the past three months you’ve been avoiding the inevitable. and now, here you are.

“So, you two are partners now?”

“What no!? We’re just friends” you put your hands out in front of you, as if dramatically denying the chance of you and mark ever being together.

“I meant school partners”

Oh

“Oh, yeah, school partners…”

Yuta lets out a soft laugh, a laugh you haven’t heard in a while, a laugh you prayed you’d never forget. It almost hurt thinking about it. You try your hardest to smile, to shred down the awkwardness in the air. After you two stand in the silence for a moments, you break it while pointing towards the direction of marks room. “I’ll go wait in his room” you bend down to pick the box up again, so you can quickly flee the eyes of your ex boyfriend, yuta.

“Uh.. yeah okay” he sits up slightly, rubbing his knees with his palms to get rid of the sweat that’s forming on them. Damn him for being so awkward. He shoots up from his seat when you start making your way to his roommates door. He appears in front of you to open the door for you. Probably so you won’t have to put the box down again. But it’s locked.

Marks room is locked…

You are going to kill him…

Yuta was thinking the same thing. He let out a soft sigh, the frustration on his face was evident. You can read him like a book. You know everything about him, even what he’s thinking right now. He’s probably running through his mind to look for anything that will make this less awkward.

“I might have his spare keys in my bedroom, if you really want to wait in there”

Told you.

You look at him for a moment, he does the same. Patiently waiting for a response. “No, no, he probably has it locked for a reason” you then turn on your heal and make your way into the kitchen. You didn’t want to think about yuta, especially today. You didn’t think he would be here, you assumed he would be out with another girl or something.

“How’s things with your new friend? What’s his name again? daejung-“

“-It’s fine”

You knew he would follow you into the kitchen, and you knew he would ask that question at some point. You were trying your best to avoid it. You turn to face him and he’s eyeing you. “Fine?”

“Yep” you place the box down on the counter, and lean against it, while crossing your arms. You can almost taste where this is going. “Just fine?” He tilts his head, you can tell he’s holding back. You bite at your lip to avoid saying something you’ll regret. The tension is cracking with every response you give him, one more and it would shatter all over the ground.

“Yes, fine, great, nice, all of the above”

He nods, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. His eyes look away from you for a moment.

“Fine, great, and nice” he repeats. “Is that why I heard you two separated?” You look away from him now, a scoff leaving your mouth, but you both know it meant nothing. “Are you keeping tabs on me Yuta Nakamoto?” You tease, he just looks at you, not bothering you with a response, but that’s okay, you already knew the answer.

Yes.

“I said everything’s fine” you repeat, trying your best to sound confident and nonchalant.

“You need something more then fine y/n, tell me the truth”

“-Fine is exactly what I need, something normal, and easy.” You can see the look of disappointment plastered on his dumb, stupid, attractive face. “That’s not what you need, trust me” he pushes himself off the counter in front of you, slowly nearing closer. When he’s situated right in front of you, you realize you can’t necessarily back away, so instead you Lean back slightly.

“He’s not enough for you” he mumbles, his eyes trained on your lips. You knew this was coming, you knew it. But you didn’t little to avoid it. You curse yourself for having no self control around him. “I should wait for mark outside-“ you begin…

“-No you shouldn’t”

“I should” you try to stand your ground, but yuta has already began kissing along your neck, and you hate yourself for subconsciously leaning your head back for him. “I thought for a moment…” he begins, his lips easily finding the spots on your neck that will make you hold onto him for dear life. Your arms quickly move to wrap around his shoulders “… that maybe I can play along, play this game of yours…” his hands find your hips and pull you flush against him. “… that I can keep Pretending…”

“Yuta-“

“-he hasn’t touched you has he?”

God you’re going to fall apart before he even finishes his little rant. You stay silent, hoping- praying that maybe he won’t make you suffer.

“I swear to god y/n, if I find out you let another man touch you, I will deliver his limbs to you in a cardboard box” he almost growls into your neck. You really did try to bite back the whimper that left your lips. However you fail. Like always.

You refuse to answer, instead bringing your hands to his chest to push him away.

“Y/n…”

“Yuta, please-“

“-you are such a brat, you know that?” He lifts his hands to your face, holding it in place while he smashes his lips into yours. You try your hardest to push away against his firm chest. Or that’s what your telling yourself, you might as well be pushing a wall. “You won’t win this fight y/n, just be honest with yourself for once” he said roughly against your lips. The kiss was desperate, you can tell he misses you, the way he holds your face, the way he lets out a relived sigh when you finally kiss back.

“Always fighting me…”

He continues to speak against your lips, one of his hands travel back to your hip, to make sure You won’t disappear again. You lift yourself into your toes to deepen the kiss. God you miss him.

“Always resisting me” his other hand wraps around your back, your fingers curl his shirt into your hands. When he finally pulls away, he keeps his eyes on yours. Yuta watches your chest rise and fall. He doesn’t realize, he’s doing the same.

“It’s like you want me to beg, you want me on my knees?” You swallow hard, you knew this was going to happen. “I want…” you pant couple more times before freezing. “You what what?”

“..I want you to…”

He lets out a laugh and squeezes the hand that’s on your hip. “Go on, I’ll do anything”

“Anything?”

“…I still love you y/n…”

“Don’t say that” you close your eyes and shake your head, you begin to push him away but he won’t budge. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get you out if my system, not completely, you’ll always be present in my mind, and I’ll be damned if I allow you to leave again.”

“Oh god” you mumble, you’re not even sure who your talking to, but it was all too much. “So, tell me what you want princess and I’m all yours”

“I want… you to take me to your bed”

He smiles before sealing your lips to his once again. he lowers himself and slides his hands around the back of your thoughts to lift you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him back like he’ll fly away.

Mark will just have to wait.

You knew this would happen.

#kpop imagines #nct dream angst #nct imagines #nct 127 x reader #nct dream au #nct 127 imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #yuta x reader #nct yuta #yuta smut #yuta angst #yuta fluff #yuta fic

[fumifooms]

Do you think hanahaki-AU fits DunMeshi? As one of magical traps/curses of the dungeon, maybe. I only thought of Chilchuck's flowers: hemlock (pun intended. Also small light flowers giving headache), clover/shamrock (so Irish! Also sweet - and Chilchuck dislikes sweets), thistle (so prickly - and Celtic too) - and there my imagination stopped. And thank you for hosting the marchil event, it was great!!!

Oooh! You know what yeah I see the vision! I’m not a hanahaki person myself but yeah… Yeah I could see it. Out of any fandom, for the fantasy manga about funky speculative fauna and flora it could 1)make sense for it to exist in the world and be in line with canon and 2)be very interesting to explore. I imagine it’d be a sort of parasitic plant that grows in you not unlike how tentaclus and cracks in walls… I do feel like they’d have found a way to cure it and get rid of them in the world though, but it could be that people who can treat it are rare especially since it’d be a delicate operation. But a straight up magical curse from the dungeon would also be very interesting.

I really like your picks for chilchuck!!

I tried to look for flower meanings and you undersold hemlocks their poison are straight up terrifying. Hemlock also reminds me of the word wedlock, if that adds anything… Because of their poison they’re associated with pain and self-sacrifice, had trouble finding anything that didn’t start and end at "they’re bad news" lmaoo. Clovers are more of a no-brainer with meanings like hope, faith, love and luck. I associate them with youth as well but looking it up that’s just a me thing… Luck could be fun in an ironic way considering his life conditions, but also fun for the lucky very precise shots he makes like when he threw the knife at the dragon or with his bow, though he would hate having it be attributed to luck instead of his own hard-earned skills haha. And omg the Thistle…….. I’m obsessed with that actually. Sensory horror wise it’d be really interesting to read how it’s like coughing it up, ESPECIALLY with the sweet taste accompanying it oh my god. If we’re going with a marchil angle, the fact that she’s a sweet person… He dislikes sweets and he hates that he loves her. It reminds him of her and he hates it, the thistle in his throat is also her, his love for her is a thorn in his side, he loves her and it hurts him and he hates it all. It’s so Chilchuck to just suffer in silence and do jackshit about an unrequited love except beating himself up for it, sigh…

I’m sorry Thistle thistles are a Chilchuck thing to me now <3 You know I always underestimated how wild thistles look… It really does look like the flower is in a green jester costume with a funky little collar. Kui you visionary Thistles are also small and round and cute… What the prickles? No no that’s just little hair ahoges <3

I don’t have any particular ideas for everyone else… Forget-me-nots are a very Marcille pick with devotion, true love and remembrance… I also associate Marcille a bit with buttercups. Also Queen Anne’s Lace, which besides beauty symbolizes sanctuary, safety and refuge… Their seeds are edible and kind of taste like thyme btw, hah, time. They’re all softer kinds of flower, no poison or thorns afaik, and I think it suits her. Unrequited love with her wouldn’t be something as acid, it’d be a more poetic sort of ache, doomed longing that feels like a bruise rather than salt in an open wound.

#Ask #Hanahaki #Dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims #flower symbolism #marchil #Marcille donato #marchil angst thoughts overtaking me today again

[lilacrwses]

▸ When you refuse his kisses

summary: Seeing a cute prank you found on TikTok, you wanted to try it with your boyfriend. But it wasn’t really cute for him when you keep ignoring his kisses.

ft: bokuto, kuroo, atsumu

genre: fluff, crack

tw: mentions of period in tsumu’s part

note: it’s pretty short. I’m still figuring out how I should write things in my blog. But I do hope you guys will like it!!! reblogs are a big help:>

Bokuto

He would be so pouty! You already know that Bokuto’s hair deflates when he’s sad, and would hide around the corner hugging his knees.

Will call Akaashi and will rant about it, then when Akaashi hears it he knows that it was a prank. So it’s either you end the prank or Akaashi beats you to it by telling Bokuto.

You think he couldn’t be more sad when you started the prank, wait till he finds out that you’ve been ignoring his kisses JUST FOR A PRANK!

You’ll have to give him a lot of cuddles and kisses to make up for it. Akaashi told you to fix it too. Now now, Fukorudani doesn’t want their ace to be all pouty tomorrow.

Whether Akaashi called you or not this big baby will demand a lot of smooches. And when you promised to come at his game tomorrow he’s back to his bubbly self.

Cue the pouting. “You’re so mean babe! I thought you were mad at me. You’ll make it up for me tomorrow right? But you’ll have to wear my spare jersey so that I could spot you once the game ends!!!” Pretend that you didn’t wear his jerseys at his previous games.

Kuroo

You wanted to seek revenge because his pranks were getting a bit too much, you were really upset with him. But not until you saw this prank on TikTok.

Cheek kisses are already a part of Kuroo’s tradition when he comes home from practice. So when he didn’t receive any he just shrugged it it off and went to give you on your cheek instead.

But oh boy, he was so confused when stood up from wherever you were sitting and headed straight to your bedroom without even sparing him a glance.

Thoughts have started to mess up his mind, wondering what made you upset. Then he remembers what happened last night when he pulled a prank on you.

Starting to regret his actions he went over to the bedroom giving it a light knock before entering. He decided to apologize before this gets more serious than it already is.

When he finds out it’s a prank he wasn’t that happy about it. He was genuinely nervous when you don’t reply to anything he says, plus you keep ignoring his kisses so yeah.

“You brat! You made me nervous for a second.” He placed a quick peck on your lips. “Promise that I won’t pull pranks on you again. I wouldn’t want to lose the privilege of kissing a goddess” He smirks before pulling you in for a kiss.

Atsumu

It would hurt his ego. Convinces to himself that you’ll want to have his kisses by the end of the day. But boy, he is so wrong! When he noticed that It’s almost afternoon and you still haven’t given in he would start to get upset.

Samu was so suprised when he didn’t hear a lot from his twin. It made Kita’s job much more easier since Samu and him do fight alot. And he can’t somehow focus on practice today, he’s even much more stingy when serving.

He’s a mood and so are you. When he gets home he finds you on the couch reading the current manga you bought. He’ll get so confused when you acknowledged him by hugging his waist tightly and pecking his lips.

Like dude, are you on your period or something? Literally checks your forehead if you’re sick. He asks you if you’re ok cause your not on your period nor you have fever. His face drops when he hears what you just said.

“Oh! It was just a prank ‘tsumu!” He chuckled barely processing what you just said. “Ya’ know there are tons of pranks you can do, but why do I have to bear the pain of not kissing ya!” I swear he’s so dramatic. You just pat his head smiling.

“Now let me kiss ya’ baby. I think I’m forgetting what your lips taste like.” Your lips will probably go swollen from the make out session that just happened. But don’t worry Atsumu would just give you another peck, if not then brace yourself for another make out session. 💀

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu crack #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x you #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu x you #haikyuu x you #miya atsumu #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #hq atsumu #bokuto x y/n #kuroo x y/n #atsumu x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #written by lilac♡🦢 #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines

[almost-a-class-act]

For @mutantmanifesto - I hope you weren't kidding about liking the zombie AU! Happy birthday my friend, here's some NSFW luztoye.

--

Joe hears him coming up the stairs long before he reaches the doorway to their bedroom. He thinks George does it on purpose, these days - makes enough noise that Joe has plenty of forewarning. He doesn't exactly know why, but he guesses it has something to do with his own propensity for being on his own since the bite.

You won't be alone in a second, those footsteps say. Put your sad shit away.

Which is uncharitable, probably. (Definitely.) But the thought fits itself into place anyway and won't be dislodged.

"Hey." George pushes open the mostly-closed door and spots Joe sitting on the bed. He'd been doing the physio the Doc had told him to try, but it's exhausting and frustrating and sometimes he doesn't have it in him to finish.

Sometimes he sits by himself, not bored or upset or anything else, just - foggy. Just gazing into space. George never knows what to do with that, so Joe pretends he hasn't been doing it.

"Hey," he replies. "Just finishing my stretching."

George purposefully closes the door behind him and ambles closer, overly casual. "How's that going?"

"It's fine."

"Fine, huh." It's a game they play at this point, Joe saying nothing that matters and George playing along. Joe knows it's destroying them. He can't tell if George does, too. Neither of them do anything about it, and the game continues. "That's good. You, uh. Want to come down to dinner?"

Joe shakes his head. "I'll come get something later." When there's no one around.

George regards him for a moment. He never used to hang back like this. Joe wishes he would cut it out, but you can't call out someone else's reaction unless you want them to call out yours. "Can we talk for a second?"

Joe takes a breath. "About what?"

George has one of those faces not cut out for this kind of conversation. Joe keeps expecting him to smile, even when it doesn't make sense. "Kind of feel like we hit a wall, Joe."

Joe eyes him, and then drops his gaze to the bedspread. "Yeah."

"I know it's not me," George says. "At least, I think it's not me - that you're sick of me, I mean." He hesitates. "You can tell me if I'm wildly misinterpreting and you want me to fuck off."

"It's not you," Joe grinds out.

"Yeah, good. That's good." There's the smile Joe had been expecting. There's more relief in it than he'd like there to be. "I thought maybe... I don't know. Maybe it's stupid. But I thought we could try something."

Joe doesn't know what that means, but he has an inkling of where it's going. "George."

"I know you don't want me to touch you." The words sting, even though there's nothing unkind in George's tone. Joe hadn't articulated as much to himself, but the dread that rose up every time George reached for him over the past little while is familiar, a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

"Not just you," he rasps, which is pitifully not enough, but he needs George to know that it's not him specifically that makes Joe nauseous at the idea of someone learning his body the way it is now.

"Well, I figured you didn't have a line-up of compact but incredibly charming radio techs coming by while I wasn't here," George says, with that crinkle of laughter at the corner of his eyes that is one of Joe's favourite things in the world.

He thinks about reaching for him, but can't make himself do it. "Thought I'd handle something like this better than I am," he admits.

"I don't think any of us know how we'd handle weapons-grade terrible shit happening to us until it happens," George tells him. "Can you imagine me? I'd be insufferable. A hundred and sixty jokes a minute, at least."

"You think you could double it?" Joe asks. "Without losing quality?"

George looks so deeply pleased that Joe had joked with him that it cracks him open a little, makes him easier to read - makes the exhaustion more plain on his face. "If I'm lucky, we'll never find out."

Joe hesitates. He doesn't want to do ask the question, but he also knows that there's nothing to be gained by kicking the can down the road. He can't guarantee that things will get better in a week, or two weeks, or a month, and he's never been someone who avoids the difficult things. "What's your something that you want to try?"

"I thought..." George sniffs, wrinkling his nose. There's that over-casualness again. "Would you just want to watch?"

Joe freezes. "Watch?" he echoes. The back of his neck feels hot.

"Yeah. You know..." The two of them are very different in some ways, but very alike in others. George looks uncomfortable to be saying this, and Joe recognizes that he would probably rather chew his arm off than get through the words. The fact that he's doing it anyway means he thinks it's important. "It's been almost three weeks since we sprung you from the hospital, and it's been pretty quiet on the intimacy front."

It's been dead silent, actually. Joe lets him hold his hand sometimes, but they inevitably wake up on the far side of the bed from each other. Joe's not even sure they've kissed since he woke up from his surgery, if that's what you'd call the butchery the Doc had had to figure out on the fly to save his life.

"I..." He swallows. Fuck me. He's not a coward. Neither of them are. If George is putting the effort in, so can he. "Yeah. That might be - okay."

George's shoulders go heavy with relief. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Joe has never just watched before, and he's not about to ask whether George has ever jerked off for an audience. He figures maybe it's better if they both pretend that they know what they're doing, so he reaches behind him to readjust the pillow and eases himself back to sit against the headboard, in that tentative way he does everything now that his leg fucking kills if he so much as jogs it.

George watches him get settled, something a little hungry in his eyes, and then slowly climbs to his feet. There's no preamble, no putting on a show as he unbuttons his jeans, unzips, and pushes them down. Joe's glad for that; the unbearable awkwardness in being the person having a show put on for them aside, in this situation where this is happening because Joe can't participate, not because either of them specifically thought this would be hot, he doesn't want it to feel fake, like a performance.

"There are a lot of lights on here," George jokes, sitting back down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear now.

"I don't remember you getting stage fright," Joe returns.

George grins. "You're right. I changed my mind. Get me a spotlight."

Joe doesn't laugh. "Take your shirt off," he suggests.

George gets that hungry look again so fast that Joe realizes it's been there since earlier, lurking behind the other things. He reaches behind his head and hauls that t-shirt off in one motion, tossing it onto the bed behind him.

Joe has seen him get undressed for bed in the past few weeks, of course, but this is not that, and the way Joe looks at him seems to give George the spur-on he needs to palm himself lightly through his boxers. Joe doesn't say anything, both of them zeroed in on George's hand, and the latter doesn't hesitate, pushing it under his waistband.

The outline in his underwear, the movement that takes shape beneath, makes it clear when he has his fingers wrapped around himself in the way he likes. Joe's throat goes dry at that soft sound George makes, almost pained, like it's been a little while.

"Let me see," he murmurs.

"Yeah?" George's hand is already moving smoothly, rhythmically, under that dark fabric, Joe's eyes on it and George's eyes on him. When he tugs his waistband down a little with his other hand so that he can pull himself free, Joe swallows at the way he's already half-hard, those fingers wrapped so securely around himself, specific and practiced, from all the years he's done this alone, all the times he had figured out how to get himself off as efficiently as possible.

"You want to help me out?" George asks, nodding at the drawer next to the bed, and Joe leans over without taking his eyes off him. He tosses the lube, and George knocks it down with his free hand, fetching it up off the duvet and flipping it open in one motion. He lets go of himself long enough to squirt a haphazard amount into his palm, and then he's slicking himself down, that hand twisting slowly.

"You look good," Joe manages, almost on a delay; he'd been so focused that it almost surprises him to hear his own voice. He adjusts himself a little awkwardly - this a problem he probably should have foreseen, but he's gotten himself accustomed to not feeling much of anything lately - and George is good enough not to mention it.

"I got good at doing this quick, out there," George says, bracing himself back on one palm so that Joe can see better, fixing those eyes on his face as if to make sure he's watching.

As if Joe could look anywhere else.

"Not like this," Joe remarks.

"Nope." George smooths his thumb over the head of his cock, making his own voice falter for just a second. "Sort of forgot I could take my time."

"You ever do anything else?" Joe asks.

"What, like finger myself?" George asks it like it won't make Joe's hands twitch, and he smiles slowly when it does. "Maybe once or twice. Not as good as someone else doing it for you, though."

If Joe could touch him without George touching him, he would. It makes him curl his fingers into fists in his lap.

"I want to," he rasps.

"I know." George's pace has picked up a little, his eyes gone darker.

"I wish..." He swallows around it, that ache of want that he can't act on.

"Tell me."

It hangs in the air between them, until Joe makes himself speak.

"I want you like that first time."

George ducks his head with a quiet fuck. "Yeah," he murmurs. "That was a good one."

It hadn't taken long - in fact, it had been the night George had come to the compound for the first time, after Joe had found him in the mall. Both of them were starved for it; Joe had had him up against the wall the moment they were alone, George urging him on with a grin and that big mouth of his.

"You wanted it so damn bad," Joe murmurs, and George has to sit up a little straighter, renewing his grip on himself.

"Not just me."

"Nah, not just you." Joe watches him sweep at precum with his thumb, dragging it down the shaft. He can't help but grind his own hand down onto himself through his jeans, trying to get enough friction to feel relief.

"I did fuckin' want it, though." George sounds less steady than before. "The second I saw you. Tall, dark, and built like you could put me through a wall. My favourite."

"Like I couldn't tell."

George spares him a glance, mischievous. "I would've let you fuck me in that RadioShack if I hadn't come too far to get my brain eaten over some good-looking stranger who didn't shoot me on sight."

"Only you would talk about brain eating right now," Joe mutters, prompting George to grin and then squeeze his eyes shut as his own hand briefly loses rhythm. He picks it back up, faster than before.

"Hey, Joe?" The tendons in his forearm stand out, and he's focused down on himself now; Joe takes advantage of it, to watch without being watched, to let himself want.

"Yeah, gorgeous."

"God. No fucking fair." George almost chokes it out. "You know how much I like that."

Joe does know, as it happens. "What were you going to tell me?"

George doesn't say anything for a moment, the only sound the movement of his hand. "Say it again," he manages at last, like he's straining to coordinate his thoughts. "That you want me like that first time."

"I want you like every time," Joe says hoarsely. "God, George. I always want you."

George gasps, a seam of sound in the bottom of it, and then he comes. His body curves around his hand, and he ignores the splash up his stomach and chest, maybe doesn't even notice, tugging himself through it.

When it's over, he gently unwraps his fingers and leans back, bracing himself on his elbows, still breathing too fast. Joe hesitates, and then reaches out.

George looks at his hand, then up at his face. "You want me to...?"

"No," Joe says. He's not ready for that yet. "I just - come here."

George nods, sitting up and tucking himself back into his underwear before he reaches for his shirt.

"Here," Joe says, and George passes it to him, crawling obligingly up to kneel next to him so that Joe can wipe him clean. When it's done, George sits against the headboard next to him, and Joe takes his hand.

The silence is much, much easier than before.

George glances his way. "That okay?"

Joe nods. "I - yeah."

George tightens his grip for a moment, warm. "Okay."

Joe is so damn grateful they're good at first times.

#band of brothers #fanfiction #roaroftheninth #luztoye

[catchyhuh]

O wise angry Lupin circle on my monitor, grace us with your answer: Who is your favorite?

i used to joke that regardless of if i wanted it to be obvious it was obvious until one of my friends sincerely thought i hated him for like three months because of how i talked about him. so maybe it really isn’t that obvious!! on a completely unrelated note here’s a list of zenigata fun facts off the top of my head!

as far as i know he’s the only one with an exact age. you do the math of when byebye lady liberty came out and the birthdate on his id, you get 51. damn.

canonical shoujo fan (read rose of versailles) but also has seen dirty harry 40 times so. varied tastes. he’s a complicated person.

local police departments fucking hate him not because of his weirdo methods or just how eccentric he is in general (tbh its more funny to them than anything, and he DOES end up putting other, worse criminals in jail during the process of the lupin escapades) but because he racks up HUGE fucking debts like everywhere he goes and like maybe 10% of it is actually related to lupin. he picks out nice hotels and restaurants and shit (or he did before they finally started cracking down on that shit). but i say we let him. waste that cop budget and live that high life my man!!

has survived multiple building-leveling explosions, has survived falling dozens of feet with nothing but a looney tunes sound effect indicating there was any impact at all, being shot in the heart twice, one time being legally pronounced DEAD but going “jk did you say lupin” and shooting out of bed, he got hit with enough tranquilizer to keep an elephant down for 3 hours i think (he woke up in 10 minutes) and he’s also bitten through steel bars with his teeth. no i don’t mean the handcuffs, although he does do that a lot too, i mean actual like jail cell bars. he’s a medical miracle

honestly i think if he just committed to only using bikes and motorcycles he’d be able to keep up in car chases more effectively because not only has he just outright tackled someone with a motorbike before but he’s fast as fucking hell on those things!! 

sorry made it this far without mentioning lupin but he’s also had lupin’s phone number a few times. he texts him. i mean lupin texts zenigata. probably noWell maybe the other way around but he knows better than to even try to trace the number at this point. he also used to hate cell phones but got over it and now has a live wallpaper. don’t tell him those things drain your battery he’d be so disappointed

uh apparently he worked construction at one point in his life. kinda terrifying to imagine a pre-thief-busting era zeni

has had THREE different first names because they couldn’t be fucked to keep track. koichi apparently came from a misspelling of his SECOND name (which i can’t be bothered to look up again i’m lazy i told you this was all off the top of my head) and they just went “no i kinda dig that. keep that one” and so that’s what they’ve used since. i cannot stress enough how unserious this series is

here's a small collection of images of him eating shit!

#normal amount of knowledge. up in here. (im pointing at my head right now. my brain) #its not even that im disproportionately paying attention to him. they just drop the most random specific tidbits about him. constantly #is it right to tag this. i dotn care. woe! zeni facts be upon ye #lupin the third #lupin iii #zenigata #asks #lupinions

[acermp100]

WAWA WEEK 5: DAWN OF THE WAWA

29/3 – Spring/nature: HOUSE PLANTS

Oh hey there's a nature prompt and I have a fav side character and love researching and taking care of plants *THROWS MINEGISHI AT YOU*

Serizawa wants to buy some house plants

General Audiences. Mild cursing. Minegishi and plants and some slight bouts of retail inspired nihilism. AND MORE SERI/REI SILLIES AT THE END. GEE.

~2200 words

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

The day had gone slow. Well, actually the entire week. No more school socials or holidays on either side of the calendar left only a few wandering by and even less deciding to come in. They’d look, they’d chat, they didn’t buy anything, they’d leave. Minegishi never really saw the point to it all but it did give him plenty of time to catch up on his reading. How interesting that the morel mushroom, famous for its taste and rarity, could grow in such a way it poisoned those who eat it. And we don’t even understand how it happens. Or maybe people had misidentified in their foraging.

The little bell over the door broke him out of his day dreaming. Oh joy, another bored employee ambling in during lunch for some vapid small talk. Wait, is that-

“Oh, hello!” A little bow punctuated the greeting. “I had heard you were working here but never had time to stop by.”

“Serizawa?” Minegishi set his book down. It was him, just with a suit and tie, a little brief case, and a new hair cut. And way more under the surface. “You look- a bit different since we last spoke.”

“Yeah- It’s been a while.” His voice trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Everything out here doesn’t even come close to Claw.” He jerked, standing up straight again. “I mean- that doesn’t mean I miss it! Just things changed. For the better though!”

“Don’t worry.” Minegishi almost cracked a grin, standing there with his dirt stained apron and classic retail worker expression. “I get it.”

Serizawa began looking around with wide eyes at the assortment of plants, flowers, and succulents. Minegishi had organized the small space over the past few days: fragile and colorful arrangements filled the shelves at his back with the opposite wall starting with little holders for individual flowers leading to small house plants. At the end was a refrigerator containing finished orders to be picked up surrounded by a large variety of more mature potted plants, some reaching to the ceiling.

Still so innocent. Minegishi wished he could feel such joy again, experience things for the first time with an open mind unstained by nihilism. At least Claw hadn’t taking that from Serizawa as it had him. Though another look at those cheerful eyes made him wonder if it was all just a mask.

“So, what brings you in?” Minegishi got up from his stool, actually interested in some small talk for once. “Have something in mind?”

“Oh! Um.” Serizawa shook his head, still trying to take everything in. “I was thinking a house plant. Something small for my apartment.” He gestured at the several on the shelves. “Maybe two?”

Walking over from behind the counter, Minegishi went over all the species in his head, organizing them in terms of ease of care, size, and light requirements. He ended with a turn of his head, looking up at his ex-coworker.

“Do you have any pets?”

“No.” Serizawa frowned. “Well, not yet. I wanted to get a cat but a few weeks ago I took care of Shou’s hamsters while he went on a trip with his mom.” And back to the unassuming smile. “That alone was too much! What with my job and taking night classes.”

“Mmm. I see.” Minegishi adjusted some of the pots. “Plants are easier to care for, however, that doesn’t mean you can just leave them alone and they’ll be fine.” Taking one of ferns he began to prune some of the dead leaves off the bottom. “Some need more light in the winter, or less water, most want food when developing flowers. You need to be aware of their needs or they will wilt and die.”

Serizawa nodded along, a serious look on his face. “I, well- I did a bit of research online. There’s a few spots where the windows let in light.” He glanced around the store a bit confused. “What do you mean food? Do I need to get like bags of fertilizer?”

Minegishi blinked once before crossing his arms, resisting the urge to bring a hand up to his face. “Serizawa.” He watched the man stand to attention. “Is your only experience with plants watching me in the greenhouse back at Claw?”

“I guess so?” Embarrassed fingers went through Serizawa’s hair. “I didn’t really have much time to properly learn about this. Just-“ He let out a sigh. “My boss, you know, Reigen Arataka? He’s stayed at my place a few times and made a comment how I should liven up the apartment. That it helps with morale and such. And he mentioned plants and something about air purification? We have a few plants at the office, so I thought I’d start small.”

Minegishi listened to the full vent, leaving a pause in case there happened to be more. “Alright. I understand now.” He turned and walked toward the back of the store. “Follow me.”

He lead Serizawa through a door to the closed off area even further into the shop. The taller man had to duck a bit under the shorter overhang. Light shone in though a crude set up of glass windows and tarps- Half of the back wall had been sacrificed to form a resemblance of a green house. Most of the sun failed to enter and so grow lamps were required, each hanging down off of wires over wooden planters all filled with an assortment of budding leaves and flowers. In the corner sat a darker patch filled with covered pots lined up in a row. All around lay buckets and bags of dirt along with hand shovels and twine.

Serizawa nearly hit his head on one of the lamps. He decided staying still was the best option now, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. 

“Relax. Nature is supposed to be soothing.”Minegishi caught a look from Serizawa and shrugged his shoulders. “Ok. Point taken. I don’t do that anymore.”

“Right.” Serizawa took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, growing far calmer. “So, is this where you grow the plants?”

“Some of them.” Minegishi paced, scanning each pot making sure all was in line. “Most flowers are shipped in from larger green houses and farms.” He stopped in front of a dozen or so pots separated from the others. “But I’ve been growing most of the houseplants here from cuttings and seeds.”

“They are so tiny. Cute.” Serizawa hovered behind Minegishi.  

“I suppose so.”

Holding out a hand, Minegishi closed his eyes and tried to focus. It wasn’t out of the need to actually manipulate the plants but to temper his powers so he wouldn’t cause harm.

“Woah.”

Each vascular sheath, every drop of water, every cell he could feel from the tip of the leaves down along the roots. Just a nudge and they harmonized with his aura. Little seedlings doubled in size, unfurling new leaves with some branching out as they grew taller. In the end the once near empty pots now hosted a variety of foliage from green to the dappled red and purple mixed with nearly emerging flowers.

Serizawa gasped. “That’s amazing!” Walking right up, he reached out to touch one of the plants but held back, still admiring the change and explosion of colors. “I’ve never seen leaves like this before.”

“That’s Codiaeum variegatum.” Minegishi didn’t wait for the expected confused silence. “Common name would be Croton. They come in several colors but I prefer the strong green with the red and yellow outlines.” He picked up a small watering can and started to tend to each pot. “You can put that one in front the window you mentioned and it will be fine.”

“Wait, you’re giving me this?” A pause, Serizawa still distracted. “I mean, I’m buying it?”

Without looking up from his work, Minegishi stopped at another pot. “Yes. It should be easy for you.” He flicked his gaze over his shoulder. “Just don’t over water: make sure the soil is dry before doing anything.”

At this point, Serizawa had taken out a note pad and was scribbling down details.

“And you will get this one as well.” The watering can was set down. Minegishi stood over sprawling plant with wide but long leaves. “It’s a Peace Lilly. Very comfortable in shade and tolerant of most indoor areas.” He set the pot off to side with the other. “See if you can keep it happy enough for it to flower.” In the end he was leaning against one of the planters, wiping dirt from his hands onto his apron. “Then you can come back and I can see what else would be suitable for you.”  

“Th- thank you!” Serizawa took one of Minegishi’s hands and less gave it a shake and more pulled at it for an awkward hug. “Um- I wrote down everything you said so I promise I will do my best.”

“Right.” Minegishi stood frozen, almost forgetting how personal his ex-coworker could be. “Let’s get these to the front and I’ll get your order processed.”

A few dings and a receipt print later and Serizawa was now a proud plant owner.

“What’s your address?” Minegishi looked up from the counter still writing down details. “I need it for the delivery.”

“Delivery?” Serizawa waved a hand. “You don’t have to do that, it’s fine.”

“Yeah. And you are gonna have a hard time carrying two pots filled with dirt and plants down to the train stop then home.”

“Oh.” Serizawa thought for a moment, having not even considered this. “I am returning to the office first. I guess you’re right.”

They finished getting all the information ready. Minegishi placed the pots in the corner for delivery after closing. He returned with a brilliant selection of flowers tied into a bouquet: white lilies mixed with roses both pink and red, opting out of the over used baby’s breath for the more enticing filler of dried lavender.

“Here.” He handed it over. “This is on the house.”

Serizawa took the delicate bundle in reverence. “They are so lovely. I don’t know where I’ll put these though.”

“Well, I thought you might need them.”

“For what?” Serizawa looked back with genuine confusion.

A long sigh. Why did he expect such blatant signs to even be read? Minegishi put his elbows onto the counter and leaned down, resting his head in a hand.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Well, the office could use come color.” Serizawa beamed. “So thank you! For everything.”

“Sure thing.”

Minegishi waved after the man, sincerely hoping things went well. The store returned to its empty state and he wandered into the back to start his research into fungus.

-----

Lunch break had long passed. Reigen Arataka sat at his desk, fingers steepled and eyes staring ahead, their focus avoiding what they truly wanted to look at. In front of him sat a cheap vase he had found in one of the drawers that now contained a vibrant mixture of sweet smelling flowers.

Serizawa sat happily working away at his desk.

What did this mean. How could he act so nonchalant. Bringing such an expensive bouquet like it was any other day of the week.

‘These will help bring color to the office!’

Yeah. Ok. Sure. He is just SITTING THERE what do I even do. Should I get him something back? Maybe chocolates? Or is that too brash. I mean it’s still less brash than ROSES. Is this because of the last movie night, us sitting on his couch together sharing popcorn.

Ugh. No. Stop thinking so much into this. Just get up and walk over there. Say some things. Don’t know what yet.

“Reigen-san, are you alright?”

Reigen jolted up, his back now straight. “FINE! Perfectly fine. Just lost in thought is all.” He waved a hand at his desk. “Coming up with new advertisement ideas for the business.”

“Oh. Alright.” HOW DID HE HAVE SUCH A CUTE SMILE. “Well you missed two phone calls. I thought maybe something had happened.”

“Ah, worry not!” Reigen fumbled, leaning back in his chair as it squeaked. “They were just spam calls.”

Serizawa gave a nod and returned to his papers. Taking an inhale and holding it, Reigen stared at the flowers. Maybe sleep on it. Take some time to understand the meaning behind it all. Too late. He rose to unsteady legs, mouth opening before his brain could catch up.

“Say, wanna hang out at the end of the week? Maybe I can come over again and watch movies.”

Serizawa beamed back. “Sure! I only have one class Friday night so I will be home probably around 6pm. How does that sound?”

Fuck fuck fuck. “Perfect.”

“Good! I can show you my new plants!”

Reigen blinked a few times and his train of thought never managed to get back on the rails for the rest of the work day.

#my writing #serizawaweek2024 #serizawa katsuya #minegishi #minegishi toshiki #reigen arataka #flowers #house plants #nature #mp100 fan fic #mp100 #fan fic #seri/rei #he will be a good plant daddy #minegishi so also causes city planted trees to break through the concrete if tthey were planted with out enough breathing room #not on his watch #like all the plants around the shop and on his walk are remarkably thriving #nextup the research for him should be galls

[kpchrs]

Okay now I am intrigued, what are you controversial ships? 👀👀👀

(As a fellow crack shipper I will not judge you, I promise)

Well, my friend, you love Snowbaird as well. So I'm guessing you know AAAALL about it.

I have two more actually. I wrote them on my bio!

So the short answer is Caulscott from Life is Strange and Hellcheer from Stranger Things.

But the very, very, very long answer is... (Warning: rant and oversharing catharsis ahead. Spoilers too I guess. Read on your own risk.)

1. Caulscott

My descent into darkness started in October 2022, with this game called Life is Strange. I've forced people to listen talked people's ear off told some people my villain origin story, but I don't mind telling the tales again.

Ahem.

If you don't know, Life is Strange is a game about a girl, who one day sees an asshole filthy rich boy shoots a punk girl in the high school bathroom with a gun and finds out that - gasp! - she can rewind the time.

Long story short, it turns out that the punk girl is her long-lost childhood friend and they use this rewind power to search for punk girl's missing best friend.

They end up finding her dead and buried. And this filthy rich pathetic brat boy is one of her killers (I won't bore you with the fandom discourse whether it's true or not). It turns out that he and the mastermind have been doing horrible things to the girls in school. (The fucked up gist: drugging, kidnapping, photographing. The murder of the girl is accidental, the mastermind says.)

Well, the official couple of the game is actually the MC girl and the punk childhood friend. I don't ship them though.

But in the end of the game, I was overcome with the urge to read a post-canon fic so I searched for them and filtered things on AO3 (don't remember how). And I found something crazy at the top.

"WHAT?! PEOPLE SHIP THE MC WITH THE FILTHY RICH ASSHOLE???" said Kris calmly. "PEOPLE ARE CRAZY!"

"..................... 👀"

*marked to read later*

My friend, that fic turned out to be the MOST influential fic in my life. It altered my brain chemistry. It made me question my life. It made me reconstruct my mindset about myself and fiction. It made me see humans and morality very differently. I sound dramatic and I AM dramatic but I'm NOT joking.

The core story of this pairing is redemption and trauma healing (and mystery too, since it has time travel, yeah?). It turns out that the boy is abused, mentally ill, and manipulated by the mastermind. Though, ofc, I don't eXcUsE what he has done. (I'm tired of having to type disclaimers lol)

The fans focused on humanising him, fleshing out his character and characterisation, fleshing out his family (since his family is one of the mysteries), and pushing him into a healing journey.

It's a super crack ship. It will never be in canon. But, it's amazing? It's like I opened my eyes for the second time.

So this is it. This is the blueprint of my taste. This is what I love to see in fiction.

2. Hellcheer

Now for the second controversial pairing! So I'm into Stranger Things, yeah?

There is this moment in S4-E1 where a guy is flirting with a girl but then she gets murdered very gruesomely. The guy gets scared (duh), runs away, and gets suspected as the murderer. The end. They only had 5 minutes together, but for great reasons, it led to 3.1k fics on AO3.

Well, it is controversial though, because the girl is 4 MONTHS BEFORE 18 and the guy is 20.

That means the ship is pedo. The shippers are pedos. The actress is pedo for shipping it. (But the actor, they said, the actor didn't know anything. The actress pushed this ship to him.) Wait, what, the actress said the girl is actually 18? No, she's wrong! There's no proof! Actually, the girl is 16, you know! And wait, the guy is actually 21! That's so fucked! This ship is illegal! This ship is problematic! People need to know this! There are criminals in the fandom! Cancel people! Boycott people!! Harass people!!! JAIL JAIL JAI--

Yeah. Such a controversial pairing. Brrr.

*deep breathe in*

*deep breath out*

I'm sorry, friend. I did turn up the 💫dramatique💫 a little bit, but all of those were real arguments from them.

This ship is inherently wholesome. It's super wholesome. When I found the ship, I was like "OH, THANK GOD, I'm free from fandom judgment and scrutiny (at least here)! I don't have to walk on eggshells!"

BUT PEOPLE STILL FIND IT PROBLEMATIC.

WHY IS MY FANDOM LIFE LIKE THIS.

Yes, the controversy has died down, but we are still very wary with our co-fandoms. I often have to walk on eggshells still, even when I shouldn't have to. But overall, I'm still very safe there lol It's a wholesome ship after all.

The fanon is about stories of what could have been of them. Fix-It fics of them surviving are what people first wrote of them. But at the core, it's about a traumatised and emotionally abused sweet girl finding love and support from good people, including the guy, and she starts her healing journey whilst trying to escape from a toxic home environment. That's a comforting plotline, no? As I have said, I love shit like this. I love trauma healing stories. And I love angst and fluff. The ship has LOADS of them. (The ship also has loads of filthy dirty smut, because the core of the ship is also women's freedom of and exploration of sexuality. I actually don't favour smut even though I do read them, but I found that amazing and I'm so happy for them.)

3. Snowbaird

And, tadaaa, now I'm in a very controversial pairing once again! Yayyy!

Even if Snowbaird can be similar to the above ships in terms of villain character and a story of what could have been, its appeal to me is very different.

What fascinates me the most is Coryo's complex characterisation.

That's it actually.

I enjoy imagining the what-ifs and I love to challenge Coryo to get his happiest ending, but how hard it is to bend him to our will?

His core motivation is solid and strong and his fatal flaw is solid and wrong. The world he lives in is so fucked up his biggest fear keeps consuming him and he gets defeated by a song.

I'm lost. I don't really know what kind of timeline for this ship able to float, because it can't float! Coryo is so stubborn the ship hits the iceberg over and over and over again.

Floating ship is not my priority actually, but I find that I need to go somewhere. A purpose to stand on. But I haven't got the map yet. I'm still trying to search for what I desire in this journey.

For now, I'm still in my canon-compliant fics phase. I want to enjoy other fans' imagination first before making up my mind.

🎶 This ship is good, this ship is bad, this ship is alive back from the dead 🎶 Lol.

Thank you so much for the ask! It's very cathartic and fun to write. Let's talk a lot, Sara! (That's your name, right?)

Kris

#ships #shipping #kris' #kris and her ships #kris got asks

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 3: [HSR AU] dh, bailu / vidyadhara family

ao3 link

note: this was a fun little crossover! this is sorta like the trailblazer ik au, except she's just in her home universe? i liked this prompt, but as a heads up i probably won't do anymore full other-fandom-aus, since i want to focus on ik and the jtta cast

ik here was awakened at the same time as stelle, but instead of om coming into the picture later, but there's an implication in this one that she knew the characters before being 'woken up' by kafka. haven't developed proper lore for this, but in this case the devildom would be another planet/world in the hsr universe

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

It’s odd, but Dan Heng feels relief when IK doesn’t seem to recognise Imbibitor Lunae.

Conveniently displaced just enough from everyone else to have missed all the action, she catches up just as they’re dispatching Jing Yuan for healing. Dan Heng steps back, suddenly self-conscious, and decides to let the rest of the Nameless do the talking.

He thinks at first that he might have gotten away with it - that he’s blended in with the other Xianzhou natives, and will be overlooked until Dan Heng (the archivist, the friend) can meet up with them on the Express. IK looks at him, shakes his hand, tells him it’s nice to meet him, then wanders off to have a look at the Ambrosial Arbor. She doesn’t even ask for his name.

More fool him for falling for it, he supposes.

While the Express is still parked by the Luofu, he doesn’t expect to go out much. He’d vowed long ago to never return to Xianzhou, and while his exile has been revoked, old habits die hard. That doesn’t mean he refuses to return at all, though, and so he hadn’t refused when Stelle asked him to accompany IK to the Alchemy Commission to visit Bailu.

Bailu’s been aboard the Express several times to hang out with its youngest passenger, and the kids have a habit of roping him into their games, so he thinks of it as more of the same. And he still doesn’t think anything’s up at first - he takes them around Aurum Alley, trades drinks with IK after Bailu successfully tricks her into trying mung bean soda, and doesn’t even question it when they abruptly suggest a change in location.

This is on me, he thinks, staring up at the statue of the High Elder with a mild grimace and a bitter taste in his mouth. Though that might be from the soda.

“...you’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” He asks.

IK gives him a look. “You’re only asking that now?”

“We took you all the way to Scalegorge Waterscape and you didn’t think anything was up?” adds Bailu.

He takes in the near-identical blend of stubborn seriousness on their faces, and can’t help but smile. He admits, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’ve been like that for ages,” adds IK. “Like you’re a million miles away. I was getting worried.”

She starts ambling down to steps to the rest of the Waterscape, and Bailu tugs on the hem of his jacket until he follows. “Remember when we sealed the Ambrosial Arbor, and all those echoes kept talking to you? I was worried you’d never want to come back to the Luofu after that…”

He shakes his head silently. He can’t think of what to say in response.

IK keeps walking for a while, then starts, “I’ve been reading about that Dan Feng guy. There isn’t a lot about him in the archive. Did you delete it?”

“I didn’t feel the need to record much of it in the first place.”

“The Vidyadhara pages are all really detailed, though.”

He hums. Bailu trips over a wide crack in the stones, and he steadies her by the shoulder without thinking.

“Did you know it was me before?” He asks after a while. “Were you just pretending not to?”

“It took me a while,” IK admits. “I looked at the statue, and he had the same hair and clothes and horns, but his face was all wrong. So I looked at you properly, and then I realised it was you.”

Dan Heng has looked up into that statue’s face before, and it’s like looking into a grey mirror. “...you don’t… need to do that for my sake. I know we share the same—”

“You don’t, though. It wasn’t making a Dan Heng face.”

Bailu looks up at him with an earnest nod. Dan Heng can’t find it in him to argue.

IK hops over a particularly deep puddle, then reaches over to help Bailu do the same. Dan Heng thinks Bailu could probably make it across just fine on her own, and he thinks Bailu knows this - but she stretches out her little arms, and lets herself be lifted across anyway. He crosses the same puddle easily, and contemplates something for a while.

The Waterscape is never quite silent, but it feels quiet as a graveyard right now. Several times since arriving at the Luofu, he’s found himself consumed by his thoughts - deep, thick, like wading through tar - but right now, he finds himself thinking of nothing at all.

“You know,” IK starts, “If you sort of look like him, and you have the same surname…”

“Are you suggesting that Dan Feng is my father?” He asks, amused.

“Maybe?” She grimaces. “Is that how it works?”

“Vidyadhara don’t really have parents,” Bailu says. “What do you think?”

“...I dunno. First thing I remember is waking up in the lab. Does that make my dad a test tube?”

Dan Heng thinks of what Stelle has told him - of how Blade knew her from before her own awakening. “Do you remember anything before that?”

“I don’t know. It’s all a giant blur. There’s Stelle, and there’s Miss Kafka…” IK thinks for a long while. “...and before that… there’s someone with big black wings, and it’s dark. But that feels more like a dream.”

“Vidyadhara dreams are supposed to tell you about who you used to be,” Bailu mumbles. “But mine are just really confusing. Dan Heng, what do you dream about?”

He stops walking. He doesn’t respond.

Dan Heng, by self-imposed rule, tries not to dwell too much on dreams. Dan Feng’s memories are murky - cold, pressing, like sinking deep into an icy ocean. The pressure builds until he feels he might explode, and then he wakes up.

When he’s lucky, he gets a nice memory - a sunny day, an evening drinking with friends. But Dan Feng died in pain, and so too do his dreams most often end in dull agony. He counts himself lucky to have not gone through the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, but he’s still unlucky enough to bear its scars.

Dan Feng is guilty. This much he knows - this much he learnt from the moment of his rebirth, and the cold chains of the Shackling Prison for years afterwards.

“...Dan Heng?”

The kids have stopped walking now. They’ve stopped just in front of another puddle. This one looks deeper than the rest - darker, too, as if falling in might drop them into the cloudy abyss below.

Without thinking, he crosses it with a single, long stride, then reaches across and carefully lifts IK across the gap. Then Bailu, too, and it’s only once they’re both looking up at him in confusion that he remembers where the conversation left off.

“I don’t dream of much happy things,” He says finally. It isn’t pleasant, but it’s the truth.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he feels a gentle smile on his face that wasn’t there before.

“I didn’t realise you were interested in the Vidyadhara,” He says to IK. “You know, you can just use the Data Bank whenever you like. You don’t need to sneak in while I’m not there.”

“I didn’t want to scare you,” She mumbles, and he almost laughs at the notion. IK is about as scary as a Wubbaboo. “Stelle told me it’s tricky for you to talk about. I didn’t want to just ask.”

She looks nervous now. He wonders how much Stelle might have exaggerated his own grievances. He might be haunted, but he doesn’t consider himself particularly tormented.

“I don’t mind,” He says, and it’s the truth.

IK’s a curious creature, and he often finds himself supplying her constant want for knowledge. This might as well be a tutoring session. He doesn’t think much of it - between one step and the next, he calls the transformation forward, and the dragon emerges with little more than a crystalline ripple.

The way IK reacts, though, you’d think he’d presented her with a tome of archaic knowledge. Her face lights up. Was she holding this back when she first met him in this form? Normally she’s frighteningly easy to read…

“Told you he doesn’t have a tail,” Bailu says, though she’s grinning brightly. He can’t imagine anyone else on the Luofu would be this delighted to see him like this.

“I do have a tail,” He sighs. “It’s just not convenient.”

“Tail?” IK repeats, barely above a whisper. Her excitement is palpable.

“...fine,” He acquiesces, and it shimmers into form behind him. IK’s clear delight - though silent - brings a small smile to his face. No wonder she made such fast friends with Bailu in the first place.

IK takes a step towards him - and, without thinking, he takes a step back. He only realises he’s done it once she does the same, ducking her head a little apologetically.

He hadn’t meant to. It’s just that— of all those pieces of the dragon who had been Dan Feng, it is Bailu who inherited his gentleness and healing. He only has the destruction. He can be here as a demonstration - like that statue before - but he can’t help but feel apprehensive about the hum of golden cloudhymn magic at his fingertips. Gold and red go hand in hand so easily.

“Dan Heng,” Bailu suddenly whispers theatrically. “It feels really nice when you get your horns scratched, you know.”

“...what?”

“Just giving you some High Elder wisdom.”

IK is giving him a different look now. It’s the same she wore when approaching Svarog for the first time, and it only went away when Clara asked the massive robot to let IK shake his hand.

There’s something like a protest in the back of his head. He ignores it and dips his head down.

He isn’t sure what his horns feel like, actually. Are they cold? Are they more crystalline, or porcelain?

Whatever it is, IK seems happy. It’s odd - she hides behind Stelle whenever they have to meet new people, but she never retreats from encounters with robots, or anything that could be termed an animal, monster, or creature by any other sense of the word.

This feels a little different though. The presence of trust feels distinctly different from a lack of fear. It feels… warm.

And it persists, even as they continue on their walk. Bailu tells IK some funny stories about the Arbiter General, and groans when he starts recounting the history of the murals (“I hear enough about those in my lessons!”). When he does, he almost forgets that he’s currently an enrobed High Elder, and not an archivist explaining another entry in the Data Bank.

They stop at some eggs, and IK says something about how it must be a shame to not have parents to raise you.

“Probably, anyway,” She adds after a moment. “I don’t really know.”

Dan Heng feels an odd tinge of sorrow. Bailu, meanwhile, huffs. “What do they even do?”

“Nag a lot, I think,” IK says, then puts on a funny voice. “A-Heng, no running in the street! A-Heng, no more sweets! A-Heng, do the dishes!”

“I’m older than you,” He mutters, though there isn’t any reproach in it.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone we meet’s older than me.”

“Maybe we’ll meet a baby one day. Then they won’t be.”

IK snorts. Then Bailu does the same - and then they both burst into a peal of laughter. Quite suddenly, he finds himself joining in, though more mellow, because that really is an odd thing to hear from such a regal-looking Vidyadhara’s mouth.

Their smiles are brighter than the sun, he thinks.

Later, they’ll have to return to the Express, and Bailu will be needed for her duties again. For now, they are at home in the Waterscape.

#3rd anni event #love how i said the reqs would be for 500-1000 word shorts when first proposing the event #and 2/3 so far have ended up 2k words #hsr dan heng #hsr bailu #jtta ik #jtta aus #trailblazer ik #writing

[ranchracoon]

Ch. 3: No Return

The exhaustion from the past week couldn't compare to anything you had experienced. Muscles you didn't know existed ached, you couldn’t even wash your hair properly because of how badly your arms hurt. The skin on your knuckles was raq with dried blood in a few of the cracks. How a woman three times your age could do this for so long was beyond you. Today however is laundry day, which means a whole lot of washing by hand but also a lot of down time. The laundry has to be hung inside because the mist from the waterfall will keep them wet, but it takes longer which means you got to relax more.

While you do so, Angie made herself scarce and you dallied around on the main floor for something to do. There's a few book shelves that you rummaged through but none caught your fancy. You took another pass, and lowered your standards until you decided on one. The sun had begun to set when you finished your reading and made your way to the back room. It gets the most sunlight compared to the rest of the house.

It feels like a greenhouse, with the ceiling and walls made from glass with tile flooring. Tight ropes lined the room from wall to wall with clothing hung from each one. You grabbed the last article of clothing from the clothes line; a luxurious, red, suit jacket that was softer than any material you've ever felt. All the clothes were oddly slim, you would have thought that someone who stayed inside all the time would be the size of the duke but, these clothes looked like they could fit you easily. They must be a twig, an insanely tall twig, but a twig none-the-less. Must be something in the water that makes everyone so tall.

You folded each article of clothing and divided them by ownership which was exceptionally easy. Angie does her own laundry, and your clothes are thrift store fancy at best. Meanwhile the lord's belonged on the runway of Paris, or on a magazine cover. You dropped off the basket of clothes in front of the lord's bedroom then excused yourself for the evening.

Sundays were your day off according to Angie, apparently the lord is gone all day doing whatever lords do and would return in the evening for dinner. It was also the day you went grocery shopping for the week, and Angie was going to let you pick out ingredients. This was your chance, if you could make something actually edible for the lord, maybe he'll come out to thank you. Or at least expose Angie to something other than whatever concoction she did make.

The next morning while you dressed you couldn't help but think how this lord managed to move around the manor without you or Angie noticing. There must be secret tunnels or something that they traveled through, because there was no way they could move from the workshop to their bedroom without cutting through the kitchen. On Friday you served lunch to the workshop, spent the entire day in the kitchen cleaning then the bell for their bedroom rang. It was impossible. Unless you're more oblivious than you thought. You grumbled under your breath then stopped dead in your tracks and shook your head. Great. Now you were acting like that deranged woman.

You hurried downstairs and to the kitchen as fast as you could to avoid Angie, in the kitchen you didn't see anyone and grabbed a bowl of leftover mush. It tasted like vomit but it was all you had, for now. You hadn't been this excited for something as mundane as grocery shopping since, ever. You leaned against the counter and a sudden clang against it made you jump. Looking over you saw Angie who dropped a bag of lei next to you.

"Is that my pay?" You asked.

"No, it's to buy food." She snapped.

"So, when do I get paid for all this work?"

She cackled, "what do you need to be paid for? You have a room, and food. What more do you need? A vacation? Ha."

She had a point, where would you go if you did have money? Could go back home and couch surf, get a steady 12 hour job and work 5 days a week. Plus weekends. You decided to remain quiet and finished your meal. After you finished you washed your dishes, dried them, then put them away. Angie left you in the kitchen while you found a basket and blanket to hold the food, when she returned she was wrapping a shawl over her shoulders.

"I'll be going with you to the village to visit my girls. You'll be on your own so don't do anything stupid. Remember, you now represent Lord Beneviento which is nothing to snuff at. Anything you do is a reflection of them."

"Girls? You have daughters?" You asked surprised.

"No, they're Lady Dimitrescu's daughters but I visit them every Sunday so they're practically my girls too." She replied.

You nodded in acknowledgment as the two of you rode the elevator up then passed through the front doors. Angie hummed to herself the entire walk and you hugged yourself as the wind blew past you, it carried the crisp bite of fall with it. The thin jacket you wore wasn't enough to keep the cold out, you would need something thicker to survive the winter. Angie continued to hum until she crossed over the grave of Claudia. She stopped walking and humming, her stare moved to it for a moment. You watched her watch the gravesite until she relit the candle and covered it with a glass dome so it wouldn't blow out again.

"Angie?" You asked softly.

"Hm?" She answered.

"Who was Claudia?"

Angie stayed silent for a long time before she started to walk away from you, she sighed heavily and the wetness of tears appeared in her eyes.

"I suppose you should know. Claudia was the lord's mother. She died from a horrific disease, but she was the kindest woman you've ever met. Her husband though, the late Lord Beneviento was a dark man, the definition of evil. Rumor has it he's the reason the lord doesn't come out. I started working there very shortly after the mother's death. Poor dear must have just been a child then." She replied sadly.

You sighed softly as you thought about it, all this time they've been completely alone with no one but Angie as company. It made you think back to your mother, and whenever you were upset she would cook you something, but now you also understood not having that comfort. The rest of the journey was silent, with only the wind and the brush of the weeds as company. The village came into view and Angie wiped her tears away as she looked back at you.

"This is where I leave you. Be back at the manor by 6pm sharp for dinner."

"Yes ma'am."

You watched her waddle toward the village center where three, tall,  gorgeous women waited for her. One brunette, one ginger, and one blond. They looked exactly the same aside from the hair color, and microscopic differences in their facial structure. They even wore the same black cloaks with black roses pinned on the upper left of their collarbone. If they looked like that, their mother must be a goddess on Earth.

Angie opened her arms wide as the three women swarmed her in hugs and giggles then walked with her out of sight. Not a single glance your way. A thought occurred in your head, a meal you used to love growing up and always made you feel better but there was one, little, issue: it required fish. That'll be the last thing you get. It didn't take long to acquire the rest of the ingredients: rice, ginger, cucumber, soy sauce, garlic, and other seasonings. All of it fresh and handmade or grown locally. However, now that you're finished that meant you had to do the inevitable.

You groaned under your breath and followed the signs that pointed to the bay, with your head on a swivel. Ironically you loved this meal but hated the smell of fish. You scrunched your nose as you got closer, merchants yelled for attention trying to sell their latest catch of fish, crabs, and other shellfish.

A woman caught your attention, she wore a simple brown gown with a red apron that used to be white. She had freshly caught and gutted salmon which was exactly what you needed. You approached her and asked for three filets, while you waited you glanced around the dock to watch the fishers pass you by. Just as the woman was about to wrap the fish in paper your skin prickled with goosebumps and you felt as though someone was watching you, you glanced around again to see if you could make them out.

"Y/N!"

No.... You thought.

Salvatore appeared from around the corner with that creepy grin that you were certain he thought was genuine. His hair was neater today, it was combed to one side and he had on a green button up with slick overalls that had the boots attached. He walked up to you and attempted to hug you but you quickly side stepped to avoid it. You didn't like to be touched in general, and definitely not by men. He pretended to look hurt but quickly changed it back to a smile.

"What brings you down here? Come to get some fish?" He asked excitedly.

"No, I came down here to see what fruits and vegetables I could find." You replied sarcastically.

He laughed louder than you would have liked, the woman motioned for you to take the fish; you took it and paid her the lei then wrapped the fish in the covering to keep it from leaking. You had hoped Salvatore would take that as his cue to leave, but he remained standing there. You strained your head to look behind him so any opening to escape.

"Well, since you're here, would you like to see my boat?" He offered.

"I can't, I'm afraid I need to get this fish on ice and be back at the manor before...2pm." You lied.

"Then, how about I accompany you?" He asked.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to get distracted nor keep you from your duties. Have a good day." You replied as nicely as you could muster.

You tried to step around to walk away but he continued to walk next to you. He slipped his hands into his overall pockets, while strutting proudly.

"Nonsense, Sundays are my day off because my dad is gone all day in meetings with Mother Miranda."

You perked your head up. If his father was in the meeting, then he was with lord Beneviento. Maybe you could do some fishing of your own.

"Is that so? So your father is a lord too?" You asked curiously.

Salvatore smirked, "yeah. There are four lords around here that run the village like a city council. They make the judgment for any crimes, how to spend taxes, all that boring stuff." He sniffed and puffed out his chest, "I'll be taking over for my father when he steps down."

You refrained from rolling your eyes, "who are the other lords?"

"Well, there's my dad, Beneviento, Dimitrescu, and Heisenberg. Dimitrescu exports her family's wine and some other stuff I think. My father and I handle fishing and help out with the farming, while Heisenberg does all the carpentry and metal work for the village. I don't know what Beneviento does, no one has seen him so I think he just rides his father's legacy and that's why he remains a lord."

You stopped walking, "bold of you to talk about a lord like that. Especially one that I work for and you've never met." You snapped.

Salvatore raised his hands in defense. His toothy grin remained as he shook his head.

"I'm just saying."

You glared at him, "I think it's time we parted ways. I have to get back."

You started to walk away when he grabbed the arm that didn't have the basket attached to it. He swung you around to face him again. It took every muscle in your body not to smack him with the wrapped fish right then and there.

"Hey I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad. Let me make it up to you. The summer festival is this upcoming weekend, come with me. We can-"

You yanked your arm away and cut him off, "no. Now I need to get going. Angie is waiting for me."

As fast as your feet could carry you, you walked away from that man and back into the crowded village. After you deemed yourself far enough away you slowed your pace and relaxed a little, he really did give you the creeps. Just when you thought you wouldn't have to deal with unwanted attention here. The bell tower over the church rang four times. After you calmed you began to walk back to the manor when goosebumps crawled over your skin, that feeling of being watched returned. Maybe you should mention something to Angie; no, she'd just laugh at you and call you crazy.

Every step you would shoot a look over one shoulder. You couldn't shake the feeling of being prey stalked by a predator. Each time the grass or trees rustled you walked a little quicker until the manor came into view. You've never walked faster and slammed the door behind you.

Back in the safety of the manor you slumped the groceries on the counter and huffed, now that you were alone you started on dinner while cursing to yourself. Anger boiled underneath as your mind swam with the interaction with Salvator, he was just as bad as the men from where you came from. You trusted your gut, and your gut said he wasn't as nice as he came across. There was certainly something off about him.

Cooking relaxed your mind and you allowed yourself to fully dive into it. The salmon marinated in melted butter, soy sauce, and ginger while you sauteed mushrooms, bell pepper, and zucchini. The water boiled for rice and you added it in then turned down the heat and covered it to cook, just in time for you to cook the fish. While those are going, you thinly sliced the cucumber and pickled them with vinegar, lime, and salt.

Angie walked into the kitchen and eyed you, she sniffed the air curiously and hovered over your shoulder while you worked. She picked up an avocado from your cutting board and examined it like it was a foreign entity. After her examination she plopped it back down then rummaged through the rest of the groceries.

"Where did you get these things? I've never seen them in the village." She asked.

"The Duke. I asked if he had any and he did." You answered, "oh, and the leftover lei is on the counter."

Angie cocked her eyebrow at you, "are you feeling okay? You're not as sarcastic or groany as usual."

"Yeah just...how was your day with your girls?" You asked to change the subject.

Angie narrowed her eyes but shrugged it off, "good. Those girls sure are a handful but I love em dearly."

The two of you conversed in small talk while you finished dinner, Angie judged your cooking of course so you displayed it like a five star restaurant. Rice for the base, veggies next, then the salmon, with sliced avocado and ginger on top with the cucumber around the side. On cue the bell for the bedroom rang, you picked up the tray and carried it to the bedroom. You knelt down and knocked on the door then turned around back to the kitchen. You paused in the doorway and glanced over to see the door cracked open. It quickly shut before you could get a good look at whoever was behind it and sighed. Maybe it was rats eating the meals, but that wouldn't explain the dirty clothes, then again, the clothes you collected hardly looked dirty at all.

Maybe Angie was wrong, perhaps ghosts do eat and wear clothes to remind themselves of when they were living. The thought made you internally chuckle as you thought about ghosts trying to wear their human clothes and it goes right through. You and Angie ate in silence, when you were finished Angie offered to clean the dishes for once. It made you suspicious but decided to take the opportunity to go to bed early, a small coma sounded lovely about now. The refreshing water of the shower washed off the grossness of the day and having to be around people; the lord was onto something being a hermit. After you were clean and changed into some night clothes you crawled under the sheets of the bed and closed your eyes.

Sleep did not come to you though. You tossed and turned but your thoughts wouldn't settle. After much debate and staring at the ceiling for seemingly hours, you decided to walk around. You wandered around the top floor, glanced out the windows to watch the waterfall until the faintest noise came through that wasn't the white noise. It sounded like music. As you walked toward the elevator you could make out bits of it, you looked around and took the elevator down. If Angie caught you, you could say you were getting water, that's a reasonable excuse to be up at midnight.

You banged your hand on the side to open the doors, the music flowed through the corridors a bit clearer. You followed it until you stood down the hall from the workshop. The music was a piano, and it didn't have the static of a record which meant it was being played. As you approached closer you noticed the door was a ajar with a sliver of light beaming through. You tiptoed toward the door, the entire time you held your breath as if that would help you make any less noise. The music was somber but alluring, it couldn't be Angie which left one other suspect. You peeked through the door and your eyes widened at the sight of someone's back to you. They were dressed in all black with black hair tied into a bun. Their head was hung low and you couldn't make out anything else.

They played expertly, their fingers glided over the keys with ease and familiarity. As you leaned closer to try and get a better look you accidentally pushed the door which creaked open further. The person froze; you watched them stand and move out of sight then suddenly appear in front of you. Before you could look up at them the door slammed shut in front of your face. The sound of music was replaced with the hammering of your heart. You panted heavily as if you had just ran a marathon. The footsteps behind the door faded away, but then grew louder as they approached the door and you took off running to the safety of your room.

Once in your room you shut and locked the door then out of panic pushed the desk behind it. The lord was going to be so angry that you saw them, that you were snooping, and if they didn't, Angie certainly would. You paced around the room in panic, you should have ran for the front door. Instead you're trapped here, and you were going to have to face judgment.

Continue Reading

#resident evil village #re8 #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #donna benevento x reader #re8 fanfiction #nsft wlw #wlw #wlw fanfic

[glazesunflower]

“You’re lucky you’re cute”

Character: Ruby Rose x GN!Reader.

Warnings: Can be read as platonic too. No warnings, just fluff.

Notes: The request, “ "You're lucky you're cute" with Ruby if that's ok”.

The front door of your house opens with a quiet creek. As you set foot inside, you’re greeted by a sweet smell in the air, tickling your nose. You breath in deeply, letting the sugary scent fill your lungs and ease the tiredness of the day as you close the door behind you and make it through the corridor.

Why does it smell sweet?

You don’t remember making anything sweet for lunch earlier, and you haven’t bought any cakes from the convenience store. And today isn’t anyone’s birthday, so why the sweet smell?

Oh.

You enter the kitchen and suddenly everything makes sense. And everything is a mess, really. There’s flour all over the counter, a couple of cracked shell eggs, the oven is still open and there’s an obscene amount of chocolate chips lying around, too. You sigh, knowing full well it’s your job to clean this up later.

“Ruby, I’m home.” You call out as you make your way to the living room.

You find her cross-legged sitting on the couch, she’s biting her bottom lip, fidgeting with the controller in her hands as she fights what you assume to be a big boss in one of her favorite video games on the TV.

As soon as she hears your voice though, she sends the controller flying and you don’t have time to blink before she’s pouncing on you.

“You’re back!” She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling her forehead on your chest, cheerful. “I made something for you! The first batch came out a little weird-shaped so I did you the favor of eating them all and I made another batch for you. You’re welcome.”

“Is that so?” Ruby’s lips bloom into a smile when you pull apart, your hand resting on her head and gently caressing her dark hair. She leans to your touch. “The kitchen is a mess though. I trust you’ll help me clean it up, right?”

“Yes… We’ll do that later.” Ruby reluctantly says, her silver eyes quickly shifting from you to the cookies that rest all nicely-put on the living room table. She picks one up and reaches out to you, a happy smile drawn on her lips. “Come on, try them!”

You take the cookie from her hand and take a bite. Your eyes widen at the sweet taste.

“It’s really good, Ruby.” You say, and her silver eyes gleam with pride. “What are we celebrating?”

“Ah, nothing in particular. You just seemed a bit tired lately and I wanted to cheer you up.” Ruby says, picking up another cookie and eating it herself. “Did it do the trick?”

“Yes. Yes, it did.” You say, palming her face delicately, her silver eyes following your movements. You brush her cheek with your thumb, your heart filled with warmth. “Thank you, Ruby. That means so much.”

“Hee-hee, I’m glad!” Ruby smiles, leaning into your palm. “Does that mean I don’t have to clean the kitchen, though? Since I’ve been so nice and all.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You press a kiss to her hair, the dark locks tickling your nose. Ruby looks up at you, her silver eyes big and sparkling. “But the answer is no. Now, come over here and help me clean up before we get all snuggly on the couch!”

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

#rwby #rwby imagines #rwby headcanons #rwby x you #rwby x reader #ruby rose #ruby rose headcanons #ruby rose x reader #ruby rose x you

[34saveme34]

Episode review I guess!!

After looking at today's episode I uh

god damn the references

like I've seen others talk about it and while I don't see all of them, it's definitely really interesting

so, spoilers, obviously

the Shrek dating sim was an interesting choice, especially for the hunky shirtless Shrek like cmon also combined with the clingy GF asmr we get the cringiest most hopeless bisexual to ever exist

might I add, as a crack theory to be funny since there's no real evidence for it, but as a funny headcanon, perhaps that is his type in men, and perhaps maybe kind of 3 aligns with his taste and maybe that's why he called him rizzless in his head in the elevator.... as someone who is trying to deeply understand 4, I think about that scene a lot. it's such an intimate thought since it's only in his head and he doesn't actually say it to anyone

Also the 3 related searches really have a vibe if you ask me. the vibe that they need to really up their communication skills. there's no way 3 just randomly threw toilet paper over his castle, there must be a reason

anyways

this is like, top 10 worst communication skills moment in history, he is so... easily agitated, which is very noticable if you look more. Especially with the elevator. They have so much unresolved tension, I want them to sit down with a couple's psychologist or what is it called

although based on this, he does care and he's trying, I can just feel him about to cry because 3 refuses to talk to him after hurting him and him doing his best to try and get 3 to forgive him, like... my god, beautiful, they should show more of that

like I wonder how it actually went here. what did he actually see to question whether 3 showers. he probably searched his stream to spam his chat about 3 not showering

like I know the supporting the homies is so real but based on that kind of search, he definitely went in there to call 3 stinky, like, I can't see it any other way

but he did at least regret it after wards, he definitely hurt 3's feelings and dignity with that, I think it would make a funny crack-esque fluff fic with the 2 about it. But yeah, I'm glad that 4 can actually get himself to apologise, although it is strange that he has to search how, it is an interesting touch. me personally wanting it to be him panicking so much about him losing his Friend over this that he doesn't know what to do so he has to search it vs the people who write him off as an asshole who would imply he did it because he doesn't know how to do it because he's a piece of shit like that

honestly, thinking about it, I'm likely the one right about it, he definitely cares about 3, that's for sure

now I'm trying to think what the shampoo and conditioner thing could possibly mean here. It's so specific so I can't really put it anywhere in my head. It doesn't fit the narrative set up before it

so I think it's best to write it off as being unrelated, although it would be funny if he searched it to roast 3 further in some way about how he also needs to wash his hair better or something like that. it does lightly fit

also some that preceeds the 3 shenanigans, the addicted to pasta thing is crazy. I wonder how he could find something like that. Idea he may have searched it because he was wondering about Mario's addiction to pasta. caring about him in a weird way or something. not much else way to interpret it, besides it being a reference that means nothing but that's boring, we don't like doing that in this house

also it's not like 3 starts everything,

I'm sure 3 wasn't happy about whatever this is implying......

now this implications here, as unfortunately, this can be read in many ways

but regardless, we all know the crew knows the fans and we all know that regardless there's a layer of fruity slathered on top of this thing, especially since they're shown together like this

what the implications could mean: big event in june=pride month, I can't really think of anything else, besides them shittily teasing something big coming in june like this. which sounds stupid but kind of interesting at the same time

also his tsundere search baffles me. he used the word himself. he knows what it means. is this here just to cement the idea that 3 calling him and only him baka is meant to be recieved at least a little bit unironically? that it's not just stupid haha? did he need to check just in case? Is he affirming 3's love for him (<- getting into stupid brain territory) ? also this ep truly confirming 4 to rizzless, awesome

now this. not going to lie, I'm having a hard time to believe he's 178 cm tall. I think he's lying. he is short to me forever and ever

also look at him lying about being a virgin, or maybe he thinks gay sex doesn't count

the religion: shrek makes me think Shrek was his bisexual awakening, it should be, it makes sense and it would fit him, especially with that dating sim, that's my headcanon now

also him reaching acceptance about the toiler paper, truly, a fanfic was written right before our eyes, it would be a beautiful crack fic. we were shown a scenario with 3 and 4 without them even interacting directly in this episode. truly, the power of the gays <3

that's a bit. too specific, why would he search it. what is he dying....

beautiful amount of spam mail, canon compliant with how bad he is with computer security

however I'm quite stuck on the salsa dancing. now this may be a long shot, and you may call me crazy, I'll allow it, but what if that's what the sexy dance would've been in wotfi 2023? I know it's probably not but there's that tiny bit of possibility. I mean there's like... no way they would've made him pole dance or some shit on youtube, but salsa... yeah, it would've definitely been interesting, especially if he actually tried and dressed for the occasion (feminine style, we know he isn't 100% against dressing up like that) it would've been awesome, now I lament the gay it could've given us

I trailed off a bit, huh? well that's just how I get

you should've seen the way I went off about 3 in my head and how I think about him in general but I decided to spare the world of such burden

tbh congrats if you managed to read all this, Idk why I speak so much

#smg34 #I mean I talk about it it's right there #I'm obsessed with analyzing how their dynamic exactly works

[sicjimin]

— A Public (Hidden) Signs —

Part 1.

a.n : hi !! this is a request, actually. And wow i didn't expect it will came out this long ! sooo, i will split it into 2 parts 😁 i hope this won't be boring to read , and for anon, again i'm sorry this takes long ... i hope you're still around and like it !

tw : emeto, mpreg, graphic description of vomiting

Jimin could think of hundreds reasons of why he's feeling sick—that he also has been giving out to any other person too, "it's the jetlag, i was too exhausted", "i haven't eat anything yet maybe my stomach was upset", "i think i still get caught on the plane, i have motion sickness", "dancing way too hard always makes me nauseous to be honest, the weather tonight was quite hot too i think i lack of fresh air" — everytime they found him at the trashcan near the stage stairs, or at the change room hunching over the bag while makeup artist was left frozen not knowing what's the right step to do in the 5 minutes VCR left, or when he's disappearing few minutes before going on stage and came back with glassy eyes and red nose. And he always brushed it off, believing that all the reasons he had spewed out was actually the right reasons—he means, what else could it be? he just has sensitive stomach, and it has been that way since he's a child ; and he also always vomited only once in a day (even though it's almost happen everyday) and then he's feeling better. So he sees no reason to make a big deal to go for a check up—even Yoongi has given up at his stubbornness.

But like the saying—as good as a squirrel could jump, they bout to fall too someday.

And the saying fits Jimin now.

If he could say, today was one of the bad borderline worse day he ever had. He never felt this sick in his almost 28 years of his life. Something is definitely wrong with him.

It's started at the crack ass dawn, 2 AM, that he stirs awake. His sleep-clouded brain hasn't caught up on anything that could make him suddenly awake at this time as he looks around at his dimmed bedroom. Yoongi is still sleeping soundly, curled on his side as little snores came out of his lips. There's no misscall or any urgent messages either in his phone. There's no noises other than white static buzz from the unwatched television and Yoongi's breathing. Jimin frowns, as he feels something is off with him. He huffs—and moves his hand to curls around his stomach and give it a hesitant rub. It feels bloated. But as far as he can remember, he didn't eat that much yesterday? He even skipped dinner as they both too exhausted after the press conference and rehearsal. His frowns get deeper when the rubbing turns out pressing a wrong spot that makes him burp—he shuddered. It feels gross. It tastes like jjajangmyeon he ate for lunch earlier. He sits up, wanting to wash the aftertaste away by drinking the water—but apparently his body think that was a wrong movement, as the water sloshes around his stomach, and before he can react, it splashes back to the back of his throat. Jimin gasps, quickly clamping his mouth—as he can feels not only water, but his other stomach content also climbing up as his stomach contracts with a gag—and dashes to the bathroom.

But the force of his nausea is too strong to contain. Jimin lets out a loud, gagging belch and covers his mouth with both hands at the bathroom door. He can feel the bitter, acidic taste of his vomit in his mouth and throat. He barely make it on time as he bends over the toilet bowl and lets out another loud belch, then throws up. The retching and vomiting becoming more violent as the minutes pass. His stomach muscles contract and flutter, as if they are squeezing out the last of his lunch. At one point, some solid food comes back up—he can make the black color it's from his jjajangmyeon earlier.

"Jimin-ah .."

Jimin is so caught up in the sickness that he doesn't even notice his boyfriend right behind him, gently rubbing his back and massaging his nape. It does seem to help, too, because the force and intensity of nausea finally subsides a bit. After a minute or two, he leans back with a deep sigh of relief. "I... i wake you up?", he croaks out, sniffling as he reaches for toilet paper and wipes his teary eyes, nose, and wet lips. "I'm sorry .."

"Nah, i wake up on my own. I don't feel you beside me and then i heard you vomiting", Yoongi says softly as he flushes the toilet and settles beside the latter. "What's wrong? Why are you not waking me up if you feel sick?"

"I also don't know hyung .. it was so sudden", Jimin replies, grimacing a bit when he can still taste the bile and remnant of vomit coating his tongue. "Let me rinse my mouth a bit .. it feels weird, and makes me nauseous again", he shuffles, swaying a bit as he stands up and walk to the sink. Yoongi trails behind him silently, even watching his every movement to rinse his mouth and brushing his teeth from the mirror. Like a possessive kitten—especially with his hair fresh from sleep and sticking up everywhere.

The older quickly swoop him back to bed, making Jimin rests his head on his chest while he plays with the blonde lock. "Are you feeling better now? Want anything?"

"Mhm ..", Jimin shrugs, "It was so weird, i was feeling fine before sleeping, and then i feel bloated. I tried to drink but then ..", he groans, nuzzling further into his boyfriend crooks. "I think it was the jjajangmyeon"

"Really?", Yoongi frowns. "But i ate the same thing with you though? And i feel fine?"

Jimin shrugs again, not wanting to think too much as exhaustion catching up on him again. "Dunno ... you know my stomach is weird these days", he yawns, gaining a coos and ruffles on his hair, "That's why you should check up, Min .. there's nothing wrong with it"

"Meh .. i will feel better then"

"You are so stubborn"

"But you love me", Jimin yawns again, his words starts to slur.

"I do", Yoongi hums, "Sleep now"

***

Jimin is wrong—utterly completely wrong. Because as he woke up this morning, nausea been latching on him like a sticky tape. He hasn't throw up again yet, but he definitely will soon. He had been gagging on his hand after finishing his scrambled egg for breakfast that he ate with lots of effort. He had sucking the mint candy hard and desperately while clutching Yoongi's hand as the older whispering a comforting words on the car as his motion sickness adding the intensity of nausea waves over him. It's just .. bad. It feels like he's waiting for something to completely knocked off his resilliance and makes him throw up all over the floor.

"Still sick, love?", Yoongi plops beside him, sitting on the edge of couch that occupied by Jimin as soon as the rehearsal over. The heat outside making him dizzy, so he rushes inside as soon as the music stops and curling himself small on the couch. Jimin nods, not daring to open his mouth as his tongue feels like it's weight a ton—and he's afraid that he might vomit if he attempt to speak as he had been quietly belching on his fist for the past 10 minutes.

"Is there anything that could help?", Yoongi asks again, brushing sweaty locks that framing Jimin's flushed cheeks. Jimin shakes his head, squeezing his eyes tight. "Stay here ..", he grits through his clenched teeth, immediately taking a big deep inhale as nausea rises few levels when he opens his mouth.

"That bad?", without opening his eyes, Jimin can tell that the older is frowning hard.

"Mhm .."

Yoongi sighs, not moving an inch from his position as he keeps placing a soft touch all over the younger body, and shushing away every questions and confused gazes that the other members thrown at them. They stay like that for 15 minutes, before Jimin groans, "Gosh .. i'm going to the bathroom, it's better if i throw up now", he grunts, then snatching Yoongi's wrist to go with him to the bathroom.

True to his words, his body knows that it's a greenlight when it comes to the bathroom as Jimin immediately gagging as soon as they see the bathroom door. "Fuck", he breathes out between his clamped mouth and pick up his paces. He didn't get to find a proper position first before he lets loose another loud, heaving belch. It was empty at first. He sucks a deep breathe, as his stomach readying itself. "Hyung—", he chokes out, blindly searching for the older hands for support. "I feel so sick .."

"I know, love .. it's okay. You will feel bett—", Jimin cut off the comforting words with a deep guttural gag, followed by something solid comes up to his throat. It was harsh, as he almost dived himself to the bowl with how hard his stomach contracts. He cough up a lumpy, wet chunk of food. It stings the back of his throat and he has to work several times to get it all up. "Hyung ..", Jimin pants in the lull of it, as he keep heaving until the bile is all clear. But even after everything's out of his stomach, his stomach continues to rumble and heave. He burps several times and groans out another belch, still very queasy.

"Better?", Yoongi asks as he reaches to flushes the full toilet. Jimin shakes his head, sniffling as he stares at the swirling water. There gone his breakfast. "I don't know .. i still feel nauseous", Jimin croaks out as he press his stomach—triggering a burp.

Yoongi hums understandingly, "You're breaking cold sweat, Min. Do you want me to asks for medicine?"

"Mhm", Jimin hums before cursing under his breath, as nausea washes over him again. He gags, letting out few sprays of clear water. "Fuck .. that's it .. i'm done", he moans, letting himself slumps against the toilet seat.

"Baby .. that's dirty", Yoongi peels him away, then helps him cleans up, as Jimin clings to him—losing all his energy.

Jimin get all the stares he was expecting as soon as he and Yoongi back to the waiting room. "Sick again hyung?", Jungkook scoots closer to him while Yoongi moves around to get the meds and something light for him to much. He can't go on stage on an empty stomach, especially remembering how hard their choreo is. "Mhm", Jimin mumbles, resting his head over the younger shoulder. "You don't want to sit this one, Jimin-ah?", Namjoon asks from somewhere, "Yeah .. it's better rather than you faint on the stage", Jin chimes in too, causing Jimin to frowns at the suggestions, "No .. i can do this. And isn't it a hastle to sit me out on this one? You're making the staff works more, they need to put out an announcement, and don't you think the fans wont be dissapointed—"

"Jimin-ah, watch your tone. Breathe", Hobi cuts his rambles, and Jimin gasps, realizing what he has been spitting out and to Whom he did it. "Oh gosh .. Joon hyung .. Jin hyung .. i'm so sorry i don't know what's going on i just feel tired but it didn't excuse i lashed out like that i'm so sorry i didn't meant to—"

"Sshh ... Jimin-ah, baby ..", Yoongi peels him away from Jungkook, "Ssh .. it's okay. Joon and Jin-hyung understand you didn't mean bad. Right?"

"Yes, Jimin-ah, we're just concerned for you", Namjoon hums, squatting in front of the blonde and pat his shoulders in comforting manners, "Relax Min, i'm not upset"

"Mhm, hyung just concerned. That's it. If you think you can handle it then that's fine", Jin chimes in, ruffling his hair. Jimin sniffles, " 'm sorry .. i don't know what's getting into me"

Yoongi smiles, "Here .. there's energy bar and medicine that supposed to calm down your stomach"

***

The medicine didn't work. Jimin is tired. He has lost count how many times today he had to hide under the blind spot on the stage to bend over his knees—catching his breath while gagging at the same time. At one point, he managed to push out a gush of water over the trashcan that the staff has prepared—looking at his predicament, as that's the only thing he took during the concert. By the time the encore done, Jimin was left exhausted.

"Still nauseous?", Yoongi asks as they prepared to leave. Jimin sprawl at the couch, looking slightly paler. His usually plump lips has gone chapped with how much he throws up and gagging today. It feels like water has left his body just in 5 minutes after he took it. "Mhm ..", Jimin hums, letting Yoongi pull himself to stand up as they leave to the car. "I feel like my soul has got sucked out"

Yoongi chuckles, holding the younger by his shoulders. "Still don't want to go to the hospital? We can get a quick check up, love .. you throws up a lot, i'm worried"

Jimin groans, as he shuffles to the seat. Yoongi plops besides him. "I just want to sleep now hyung. And we're in a foreign country", he sighs. Deep down he also want to put this on stop. Feeling nauseous all the time has driving him crazy actually. "When we go back to Korea?", Jimin bargains, and it swells his heart as he sees Yoongi lits up at his words. He yelps when the older leans forward to steal a quick peck, "Deal"

***

If Jimin tought yesterday was bad, then today must've classified as Worst.

Today, the kitchen sink is the victim of his morning routine, and it was triggered by the hotel breakfast buffet. But he can't pinpoint which one that causing it as he took few small portion from the menu and ran with it. It was when he's back in his room and getting ready that his stomach starts to churn.

Before he knows it, he already lounged to the sink, hands gripping the marble counter with a force that makes his nail white, as his body wracked with discomfort and queasiness. The sound of his gagging and retching into the metal sink echoes throughout the small hotel room. The vomit splattering against the sink in heavy, wet sprays. It's not the usual soupy chunks, but a mess of bile and chunky food matter, like a brown, wet gravy. Jimin's eyes water as he keeps trying to purge the food from his stomach that's so desperate to come back up.

"Gosh .. you're throwing up a lot, love", Yoongi coos from the back. His hand adding the pressure around the younger back, patting it as he chokes on a particular deep gag—resulting in a heavy plops of thick vomit. Maybe it was the dessert this times. Jimin splutters, turning the tap, desperately to rinse his mouth and getting rid of the mess. The sight making him want to hurl more. "All of my breakfast .. ", he sniffles, "Gone hyung .."

"I know", Yoongi answers as he peels himself away to get his boyfriend glass of water. He winces when new found gag can be heard again. He trudges there back, swiping Jimin's hair in one swift motion and tied it before focusing again to the vomiting session in hand. It took him another few dry heaves before his stomach deemed it done.

"I'm so tired hyung ..", Jimin sighs, slumping against the counter as he's too tired to walk to the couch and rest properly. Yoongi is about to reply, when both of their phone ring—their manager is calling, and it's time to go. Jimin groans, before stomping his feet to go.

And it was just like yesterday, except this time Jimin didn't get to bring himself to the bathroom—instead snatching a plastic bag on the table to vomit. He didn't even know what's causing it this time. He had been feeling nauseated as always when he's in the car, but he was just resting on the couch when nausea mounting quickly. He jolts from his position, before projectile vomiting into the plastic bag. His whole body heaving with the force of each painful retch. The vomit is almost all liquid now, barely any solid chunks to his stomach's content at last.

"Jimin ..", someone was beside him, wrapping his arms around his shoulder as Jimin ducked his head down to the bag. He's past feeling embarassed as the sickness is feeling more overwhelming. "Sorry ..", still he feels bad for everyone in the tiny room have to hear him tossing his guts out.

"It's okay .. let it out"

And Jimin back at it—he coughs and sputters his way through another bout of dry heaving, expelling even more water from his body until he's practically bent over, head almost touching his knees if it wasn't for someone holding his shoulder, with his hands gripping the bag tightly. He closes his eyes and lets his tears fall as his body rumbles and churns violently without anything left inside his stomach. "Ah ... hurts", he moans when he finally managed to straighten himself.

"Better?"

Ah, apparently it was Seokjin. Yoongi was also crouching beside him with worry apparent in his eyes. He accepts water that the older hands him, taking a little sips as he isn't sure if his stomach want to cooperate now. "Thank you hyung", he murmurs, letting Seokjin take the bag away and Yoongi scurries to his side. "Baby .. you sure you still want to—"

"Hyung .. please", Jimin pleas, tired of this circling conversation. "I'm sorry .. i'm just—"

"Worried .. i know", Jimin sighs.

"Jimin-ah", Seokjin trudges towards him, but now with IV on his hand. "Do you want to take this? It will help you dehydrated, and maybe feeling better before we go up there"

Jimin nods, willing to accept anything as long as he can go on stage. Yoongi trails beside him as they walk to the emergency make-shift room, and he held his hand during the process.

The IV works wonder—Jimin was estatic that he gonna get to end the concert without a significant hitch. He was able to push through 3/4 of the concert without wanting to throw up. The nausea is still there, but at least it's never spiked up until he needs to throw up. But little did he know that it was a calm before storms—as by the time for encore, it feels like the vitamin and liquid that has been injected to him vanished into thin air. Nausea crashing at him in full force as they are singing So What—that requires him to jump around and be as energetic as he can. He did try to slow down his pace, not jumping around as much ; but it's just inevitable as he sees the audience jumping around too. How can he not gives back the same amount of energy? Even though it's at the cost of feeling his stomach content jolts at the back of his throat every time he jumps.

He reached his peak during Anpanman—the bouncy castles tipped him off the edge. After several, agonizing minutes of wrestling with his body and fighting nausea, Jimin finally just can't keep himself from being sick again. He walks away from the bouncy castles, hoping that it would lessen the churning on his stomach from the movement. But apparently his stomach has become to sensitive, that even walking around making the queasiness intensifies. His muscles feel weak and his head light—Jimin stands still, his ears ringing in between the roar of his blood rushing and the thump of his in-ear monitor ; before he rushes to the back. He can't think of anything but not vomiting his guts out on the stage. He just hopes that he didn't run off on his part. He barely make it to the stairs, when he belches. He cupped his mouth, hoping that the staff already know what's going on and turn off his mic. By the time he got down, his cheeks already filled with vomit.

Staff running off to him, catching his swaying body by the end of stairs and immediately handing him a sick bag. Jimin didn't need to try—one burp already enough to fill the bag with his stomach contents. He sucks a deep breathe ; it hurts to do so, as he still also panting from adrenaline on the stage. His breath comes as a painful gasps, before his stomach belches violently, and he feels a hot, greasy mess flow up his throat and into his mouth. He gags and burps as a bigger wave of vomit flows into the bag. His body shakes and trembles with discomfort. "Oh gosh...", he mutters again, closing his eyes and waiting for the latest bout of illness to fade.

He barely keep his consciousness during the whole ordeal as he can't pull the sick bag away from his mouth—suddenly, he's already in the emergency room, with staff surrounding him. One holding an oxygen can, another fanning him, and another helping him to hold the sick bag.

"Jimin!"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #and again another mpreg fic #sick!jimin #caretaker!yoongi