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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

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Attitude Adjustment (Chris Sturniolo)

matt version?

contains: angst, bickering, relationship arguing, smut, softdom chris, hair pulling, fluff, kissing, protected sex, female receiving, 1.7k word count

a/n: based on this idea i had. sorry it took so long i couldn't figure out how to end it. i still kinda hate the ending but fuck it we ball.

“It’ll only be for like an hour and a half-”

“Chris-”

“Baby. We’re out of video-”

“So you basically invited me over to fucking abandon me here?” I ask, unable to hide the irritation I feel bubbling up. I sigh deeply, rolling out of Chris’ arms and grabbing my phone. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch him rub his hand over his face and sit up.

“Babe, we’ve been together all day. Just give me an hour." He gets out of bed and stretches before heading into his bathroom. I know I’m being a bit of a bitch to him but I can’t help it. Our schedules have been so crazy lately that every hour I get matters these days. Seems like I never get him to myself anymore and it’s starting to grate on my nerves.

Chris comes out of the bathroom and heads to his closet, stopping to scoop his favorite sweatpants off the floor. I roll my eyes and grab my Airpods, popping them in my ears and turning my music on full volume.

After a couple of minutes, Chris comes over and leans down to kiss me but I dodge it, not ready to stop being petty yet. He rolls his eyes and reaches to pull my headphones out. “Can we please not do this? This is my literal job.”

I kiss my teeth and Chris takes a deep breath and steps away. Nick calls his name from the top of the stairs and he yells back that he’s coming before grabbing his wallet.

“Alright. I love you, baby. We can talk about it when I get back.” He says over his shoulder as he reaches for his door handle.

“Whatever, Chris. Just leave me the fuck alone. I don’t even care anymore.” I snap. Chris pauses his movements and gives me a look that has me squirming. He walks over to the bed and squats down in front of me, the intensity of his eye contact making me lean back.

“Stop talking to me like you’re crazy, bro. Am I speaking to you like that?”

“No,” I mumble, crossing my arms and refusing to meet his eyes.

“Alright so watch your fucking mouth.”

I nod, struck silent, and he leans in to press a quick kiss on my temple before he stands, finally heading out the door.

I sit there for a minute staring at the wall contemplating my sanity. Because there’s no reason why that was the hottest Chris has ever been to me.

*******

It’s quite possible I’ve never been this bored in my life. I’ve started three different TV shows on Netflix, started doing handstands, and scrolled until my for you page started getting weird. I’m half lying on the bed, half hanging off, when I hear the boys come back. I spring up and turn off the light, throwing myself into bed and pretending to be asleep.

A few minutes later the door opens and Chris comes in, hesitating for a second when he sees it’s dark. I squeeze my eyes shut, listening to him move quietly through the room. When he gets in the bed, I feel him lean over me and run a knuckle over my cheek.

“You know you’re a terrible actress right?” He laughs, reaching over to pull me into his arms. I smack my lips and yank away, sticking to my plan of being a brat. He sighs, dropping his head back on his pillow.

“How do you still have an attitude after two whole hours?”

“Thought it was only going to be an hour and a half?” I mock, turning over on my stomach to face the wall.

“Okay.” Chris sits up and turns on his lamp before flipping me over to face him. I blink at him rapidly, startled by the sudden movement.

“This is what we’re not gonna do.” He says, gesturing between us. “Either talk to me or let it go. Those are your only two options.” His tone is harsh but with his thumb smoothing over my arm, it doesn’t feel as mean.

I sit up and face him, crossing my legs. “I just want a day or two where I don’t have to fight for your attention,” I say quietly. Chris nods slowly, tilting his head like he’s thinking.

“Okay.” He says, pulling me into his lap. “I hear you. I’ll try not to film on nights when you're here. At least until I can see you more.”

I look up at him and smile, placing a kiss on his collarbone. “Thank you.”

“That was easy, huh? Talking and shit like we’re adults-”

“Don’t ruin it,” I say, reaching up to pull his face down to mine.

I kiss the corner of his mouth and it pulls up in a lopsided smile. I keep going, kissing the other corner before both his top and bottom lip. His eyes trail my face, darkening as he waits for me to kiss him fully. But instead, I slip off his lap, rolling back to my side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” He asks with a frown, leaning so he’s hovering over me. I smile and wrap my arms around his neck.

“Just wanted to see how much you want to kiss me,” I say casually, tangling my fingers into his hair.

Chris leans down and presses his lips to mine roughly, pushing my head into the pillow and anchoring a hand on my hip. His other hand dips under my shirt, sliding higher as we deepen the kiss. He pulls away to start lining kisses down my neck, driving me crazy.

“I always want to kiss you. Even when you're really fucking annoying." He says as he slides down my body, stopping to place a kiss above my belly button. He runs his tongue back up the trail of my body before he stops to yank off my shirt and bra. The light from the lamp makes me a little shy and I reach to turn it off but Chris stops me. “Leave it on, I want to see you.”

He slides back up to kiss me again, sweeter this time and full of love. I smile against his lips and mumble low, “You’re such a softie.”

Chris breaks the kiss and raises his eyebrows, giving me a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah?” Before I can respond, he sits up and grabs my panties, ripping them off in one motion and tossing them over his shoulder.

“I always wanted to do that.” He says, sliding down to run his tongue over my hip.

“I’m going to kill you.” I breathe out as he moves closer to my core.

“I’ll buy you some more.”

“It better be Victor-” I cut off my complaining with a moan as he swirls his tongue over my clit. He pushes open my legs and leaves one hand running up and down my thigh gently.

I lace my fingers back into his hair and he looks up at me as he slides a finger inside of me. He picks up his pace, thrusting inside of me roughs and adding another finger while matching his tongue motions to his fingers.

I tighten my grip on his hair and moan out his name, squirming up until my head hits the headboard. Chris moves his arm to spread across my stomach and pins me in place, never pausing his movements.

I throw my head back and rock my hips up as I call out his name and tell him I’m close. He only stretches me out more, curling his finger up to hit the spot that always takes me out.

I turn my head and moan into the pillow as I ride out my orgasm, still calling out Chris’ name. He presses a final kiss to my clit and then pushes himself up my body. He kisses me hungrily before he leans over to his nightstand.

“Still got an attitude or what? Let me know.” He teases as he stands to take his clothes off and slip the condom on.

“Shut up, Chris,” I say, rubbing my hand over my eyes.

“Alright, so we’re still working on it. Got it.”

He flips me over onto my stomach and hops on the bed behind me, pulling me up until I’m arched where he wants me. I look over my shoulder at him as he lines himself up to enter me, his tip rubbing against my folds, and he meets my eyes as he pushes in.

He gives me barely any time to adjust before he’s hammering into me, both hands gripping my hips and pulling me to meet his thrusts. I grip the sheets, whimpering, but Chris doesn’t slow his strokes for a second.

“Wow, you’re quiet.” He says ruggedly. “Where’s all that fucking mouth you got?”

I open my mouth to talk shit back but he readjusts, pressing his hand into my back and pushing me into the mattress. Somehow he picks up his speed, digging deeper into me than I thought possible. I try to say his name but all that comes out is a series of unintelligible sounds and he laughs roughly.

I reach a hand back against his hip but he grabs it and pins it behind my back, using it as leverage to pull back and slam into me again. “You feel so fucking insane.”

The breathy candace of his voice makes me moan out louder and Chris gathers all my hair into one hand and uses it to pull me up against his chest. The new angle has me seeing stars and I throw my head back on his shoulder as he places sloppy kisses on my neck. He reaches down to rub his thumb over my clit and I buck against him, my body shuttering from the intensity.

I’m so close now and he can tell, gripping my face and tilting my head so he can meet my eyes. “Go ahead, baby. Give it to me.”

I do exactly as he says, maintaining eye contact, as I fall again. He throws his head back at the feeling, muttering a low, “fuck,” and moaning out my name as he comes.

He drops his head against my shoulder for a second, breathing heavily, before he pulls out slowly. I fall back onto the bed while he heads to the bathroom to clean up. I’m still lying motionless when Chris comes back out and sits on the edge of the bed. “Come on. Take a bath with me.”

I smile over at him and slide out the bed, following him into the bathroom. I sit on the counter as he runs the water and pours in my bubble soap.

He comes back over to me and stands in between my legs staring at me. “You didn’t say you loved me back when I left.”

“I just let you break my back. I think we’re good.” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Not the same.” He states matter of factly, leaning closer and brushing his lips against mine. I smile and then pull back, giving him a mock-serious face. “Christopher Sturniolo, I love you so much.”

He grins and kisses me again, deeper this time. “One more time?”

“I love you,” I whisper, chasing his lips but he pulls back.

“Again?”

“Alright, fuck off.”

He laughs and steps back so I can slide off the counter and head over to the tub. I get in after turning the water off and Chris follows, sliding in behind me.

I sigh contentedly, letting my head lay against his chest as he tells me about how filming went. I laugh at his stories and chime in softly, wondering how the hell I could ever be mad at a boy this sweet.

Well, at least until tomorrow.

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gyuslcve · 10 months

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can i request “svt members when their S/O falls asleep on another members lap/shoulder”?☺️

how svt reacts when their s/o falls asleep on another member’s lap/shoulder

genre: head canons, fluff if u squint

rq: requested by anon!

not proofread

notes: this idea is so cliche (in a good way) and never fails to make me go <333 thank u anon for this rq xx i really enjoyed writing this

SVT MEMBERS WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP ON ANOTHER MEMBER’S LAP/SHOULDER

choi seungcheol

✧ i think he’d be conflicted because he doesn’t wanna wake you up but he wants you to lie on him and only him

✧ ends up trying to move you from someone else’s lap to his without waking you up

✧ is very gentle with you, afraid of disturbing your sleep :(

yoon jeonghan

✧ wakes you up and apologises

✧ “sorry darling.. i’m here now, go back to sleep”

✧ you don’t notice it but he looks at you tenderly and smooths your hair

hong joshua

✧ same as cheol, he’d try to shift your head from someone else’s shoulder to his own

✧ once you’re settled on his shoulder he glances down at you every once in a while, making sure you’re sleeping safe and sound

✧ chuckles to himself at your sleeping state (he finds it t o o adorable)

wen junhui

✧ slightly ???? when he sees the situation

✧ doesn’t really mind tbh

✧ shushes the members bc he knows you’re easily woken up by noises

kwon soonyoung

✧ pouts and hopes no one notices (he’s jealous)

✧ wakes you up gently and shifts next to you so you can lie on him instead

✧ instantly wraps an arm around you in a protective manner once you’re by his side

jeon wonwoo

✧ heart melts when he sees you asleep

✧ doesn’t have time to be jealous, he just walks up to you and wakes you up,

✧ “hey baby.. let’s go home yeah? i know you’re tired”

✧ if you insist on staying he’d bring you to his lap so you at least rest comfortably

lee jihoon

✧ doesn’t notice at first - when he does he gets jealous

✧ he tries not to show it but it’s written all over his face

✧ doesn’t wake you up or anything, makes a mental note to talk to you about it when you get home

✧ not from the intention of possessiveness but he wants you to know he’s uncomfortable with it and assures you he will always, always be by your side whenever you need it

xu minghao

✧ almost jumps out of his seat from impulsiveness and then sits his ass back down because he tells himself “it’s not a big deal”

✧ probably would sit there and debate whether he should wake you up or not for at least five minutes

✧ it puts his mind at ease once the thought that you fell asleep on the other member’s shoulder accidentally crosses his mind

kim mingyu

✧ torn between being jealous and heart swelling with affection

✧ lots of thoughts go through his head (while pouting)

✧ what if she gets mad at me for waking her up? w-what if she doesn’t love me anymore ;-;

✧ please give assurance to this big baby

lee seokmin

✧ another ???? member

✧ doesn’t really do anything, first thing that crosses his mind is when you fell asleep the night before

✧ he’s honestly just worried that he’s staying too late and you’re not getting enough rest :/

✧ wakes you up while brushing your hair and asks if you wanna go home

boo seungkwan

✧ man would jokingly make a threatening face at whoever you’re lying on

✧ then proceeds shush everyone in the room

✧ would take off his hat and place it over your head so that it blocks out the brightness

vernon chwe

✧ bro is too busy vernon-ing to notice

✧ not that he’s not paying attention to you.. he’s just vernon yk

✧ only finds out when the member you’re lying on texts him “yo, come get your girl”

✧ chuckles and slowly manoeuvres you into his arms, excuses himself and you from the room and brings you back home <3

lee chan

✧ furrows his eyebrows

✧ somehow shoos the member away and adjusts you onto his lap instead

✧ forgets about whatever conversation he’s having and spends entire night placing occasional kisses on your forehead and holding your hand

author’s notes: thank you again anon for the rq!! i really enjoyed writing this <3

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hon3y-y · 4 months

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ pov: hockeyplayer!suguru is your loving boyfriend<3

Inclusive to all fem readers<3 (no deep description of body type or skin color)

Enjoy<3

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s hair flows behind him while he skates on the ice, flashing you a bright smile as he skates past you to score. He immediately blows a kiss to you and goes to celebrate with his team. He’ll go skating to the benches and practically throws himself over, “you see me babe?” He calls up to you. You nod, blushing as his coach tells him to sit down and grumbles “keep your head in the game, suguru. We haven’t won yet…” he’ll blow a kiss to you before sitting down, pushing away his teasing teammates.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who tells the opposing player standing next to him during the face-off, “by the way, I’m scoring off of this..” the guy looks confused and scoffs at your boyfriends cockiness, but ends up shocked when he does. Before he can fully process how fast suguru scored, he sees getou rush to where you are in the stands, calling out to his lucky charm.

I mean, he’s in front of his favorite person in the world? When is a better time to show off…

He’ll beg you to come to practices, showing you his smooth tricks and waiting for your approval every time. He absolutely loves praise and hearing you cheer for him, even during an empty practice? It scratches his brain in a way that pushes him to try harder, move faster, and win. He just loves to make you proud.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s own team is freaking out when you said you might not be able to make the game. He’s sulking, and his teammates are all trying to make him feel better.

‘She’ll come, don’t worry!’

‘She’s probably on her way right now.’

‘Just breathe, bro…’ which only makes him grumpier

After confirming you won't be able to make it, he’s out of it the first two periods, allowing the team they’re against to get ahead three points. During intermission you call him, saying you heard they were behind and you’d be able to be there the last period. Somehow he miraculously is back on his game and they end up only lost by one point. You apologized for missing the first half to which he shushes you, “my lucky charm made us lose with dignity, baby. I’m just happy you’re here.” He says while wrapping you in his arms, smiling like he won the Stanley cup.

When he goes home with you for the holiday, he plays hockey with your cousins and lets them win(cause he’s so sweet T-T. Probably dramatically throws himself onto the floor when they score making them giggle every time. Anyway..) That is until your nosey and annoying next door neighbor starts making comments on his plays. He rolls his eyes, leaning on his stick while focusing on the way the neighbor leans into you or comments on how pretty you look and suddenly there’s a puck flying, nearly hitting the annoying man. He goes to where you two are wrapping a protective arm around you, he’s acting shocked too. The neighbors eyes wide in shock sputtering nonsense as you try not to laugh, “shit man, usually I don’t miss.”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who runs out of the changing rooms as soon as he’s done and goes to meet you. His eyes sparkling, grin wide on his face as he moves his hockey gear to give you a bear hug. “How’d i do?” His voice is mumbled into your neck, tightening his arms and breathing in your comforting scent. You laugh at the ticklish feeling before facing him, “so good my love, couldn’t take my eyes off you~” making him blush.

Suguru is always worked up after a game, pulling you out to his car with a smirk on his lips. He’s staring down your shirt and smacks your ass when you pass him holding the door for you, “suguru! We’re in public—“ to which he just laughs and begins to tease you, “i thought you liked being watched? Didn’t have a problem when i made you cum on my fingers in front of satoru last week?” To which you gasp and immediately reach up to cover his filthy mouth. “I didn’t know he came in!” Your cheeks are flushed pink and you mumble a tiny ‘hmph’ before going to the passenger seat of the car.

You're confused when he doesn’t open it, turning to look at him and noticing his crossed arms. “That’s my job, princess.” And just like that, your putty for him again. You giggle and turn away as he strolls over only for you to stop him. “Open the back, gonna need it more…” you lean up to his ear and whisper making him bite his lip. “Anything for you, baby.”

NSFW below;

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who currently has you in his lap in the backseat of his car, his hands grabbing and caressing anything he can. He plays with your tits through your shirt, nipping at your lip and rolling his hips up to grind his aching cock into your covered pussy. “Mmh—take this off, please..” he’s pawing at your shirt, helping you remove the item before immediately pulling your bra down to stare at your pretty tits. He tugs and plays with your nipples, chuckling when you push his hands lower “guru, play with this instead~”

Clothes are thrown around the car, both of you guys impatiently wanting to feel each other. You climb on top of him again, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight of how large he is (never failing to impress you)

The feeling of his tip pushing into you makes you let out a sharp cry, the stretch painful without the prep but your dripping pussy helps glide him inside. Suguru reaches up to caress your soft cheek, kissing your watering eyes while whispering words of encouragement. “I know baby,” he leans his head against the headrest, trying not to cum just by the feeling of his head popping through your tiny, wet hole. “Slow baby, you can take it~” his hands rest on your hips, moving to play with your clit and try to help you adjust.

When you finally sink down onto him fully, he holds you still, closing his eyes and trying to not succumb to cumming right there. Your face is twisted up as his cock nestles against every nerve you have, panting at just how full he makes you. “Su-guru, ‘ure so big—nghh!” You moan when he rolls his hips up.

With your hands using his shoulders as leverage, you begin to ride him. Suguru is noisy, he doesn’t mind showing his lover how good he feels. And as he leans into your ear, telling you how good you’re doing, you can’t be more grateful it’s you he’s talking to

“Good job baby—oh fuck!—riding me so g-good.” He moves his hands to your ass, spanking it and watching the jiggle it makes before grabbing it for leverage. He’s also a little impatient so it’s not long until he fucks up into your pussy, making eye contact with you so he can watch the way you lose yourself in the pleasure. His cock hit your g-spot harshly, you clench tightly around him with your eyes rolling back. You moaned uncontrollably, any attempt to shush yourself stopped by suguru. “Move ur’ fucking—hands.”

Your tears egged him on, enjoying your choked sobs that echoed in the confined space. The car had fog on the windows, shaking lightly and if anyone of his teammates saw, it would be nearly impossible to argue what the two of you are doing.

He slows down, changing his rough pace to slow loving thrusts. He pulls you to him, kissing you passionately and enjoying the intimate moment while reaching down to thumb your clit. You gasp into the kiss, brows furrowing at the double stimulation. “Don’t s-stop!” You beg, messily kissing him letting out shakey breaths. Suguru playfully smiles while nodding, “i won’t baby, promise…”

He adjusts the two of you, laying you down and lifting your legs to your chest before pushing back into you. He groans, and grabs your jaw. “Open.” You do as you’re told and feel suguru spit into your mouth, picking up his pace after watching you swallow it without instruction. “Good—fuckin—girl.” He emphasized with every thrust, nearly hypnotized by how pretty you look.

You tighten around him when he leans down to suck on your harden nipple, bucking your hips to meet him halfway. You’re being fucked dumb, eyes rolling whenever he fucks you full, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge with every drag of his cock. Your voice pitches, “Gon-na cum!”

Suguru wraps his hand around your throat, “yeah? Not even asking? What a brat.” He scoffs. You try and speak, wanting to beg and be his good girl but you can’t. You can feel it building, unable to have any control. His eyes darken, “really? Still not gonna ask?” And you start crying. Your brain is fried, the need to please losing to your own selfish desire to cum.

“S-sor-ry!” You yelp as it snaps. you cum hard, your eyes squeezed tight as your back arches up and your whole body tightening. You're shaking, throwing your arms over your eyes as you curl into yourself as intense wave after wave courses through you. With ringing ears, you don’t know when you finally regain senses but the first thing you feel is Suguru's rough hands caressing your cheek.

Suguru has pulled out of you, “holy shit, looked so hot babe.” You laugh at the surprised look on his face. You look down and notice the wet spot on his seat and try to sit up, embarrassed. “Woah, take a second to breathe, mama.” He jokes while pushing you back down.

“Guru, I’m sorry. Ill clean—“ he cuts you off with an annoyed groan, playfully smacking your pussy making you gasp. “You should only apologize because I didn't get it on camera.” You look up at him and smirk, “you didn’t cum yet, think you can make me do it again?”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who does make you cream on his cock again but this time on video. The same video that, with your permission of course, he shows to his teammate satoru with an open invitation to join in on that nights after party

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru is just the best<3333

A/n: it’s finally done🙏 i have finals coming up so idk when imma write again💔

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candyk0rn · 7 months

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Comforting your tears-BG3

If they found you crying

Ugh I know my old friends are sick of this prompt because I’ve probably done it one hundred times..but can you blame me??

Before reading: gn reader, Angst (if you squint) with comfort, Astarion x reader, Gale x reader, Halsin x reader (separate)

Astarion:

Astarion has shed his fair share of tears in his prolonged life

Not recently, of course (Unless this takes place after a certain quest line…)

And he’s used to seeing others cry, wether they be his conquests when they realize his actual intentions,

Wether he sees a lost child in the night sobbing for his mother,

Wether it be a sad woman mourning a loss in the darkened graveyard

But he’s never seen you cry, and he’s never craved that sight either

He’s not sure why you were crying, and he doesn’t take time to ask you that

Because if he’s being honest, he doesn’t know what to do

He has never once had to comfort another’s tears, and if he ever has, there was always an ulterior motive

But here you were, trying to suck back floods of tears before him

And all he could do was stand still, a small furrow in his brow

In all honesty, he waits for you to do something first

To reach for him, to say his name, anything

Even just telling him to go away would be enough, because it would give him the slightest bit of direction

If you shove him away, without hesitation he shall flee

But if you move the slightest bit, he rushes to your side

His hand twitch as they hold you, not knowing if this is truly what you need to feel better

But perhaps, these hands which have killed many,

Can also comfort.

Gale:

Similar to Astarion, he’s not quite sure what the best remedy for a broken heart is

But he is a lot less clueless

When he sees you, he wishes so badly to take all of your pain and inflict it onto himself

He’d rather die than see you like this again

He thinks back to his youth, how his mother would confer him when he would cry or become upset

He also thinks ‘How would I want to be comforted?” Only to be bombarded with thoughts of Tara purring sleepily in his lap

So that wasn’t gonna work

He silently takes you in his arms, rubbing loving circles into your back

He kisses your temple, whispering ‘What’s wrong?’ Into your ear

If you shake your head or don’t respond, he’s not going to push you for any more information

If you begin to tell him, he listens diligently, not interrupting you

He rocks you back and forth, hoping he’s helping you in some way

My bro is trying his best 💪

Halsin:

Halsin is easier than the other two because omg he’d be the best at comforting you

Like Gale, he would just scoop you up in his arms and shower you with affection

He’s also a very smooth talker

You need him to distract you? He already has a story to tell you

You need him to whisper loving nothings into your ear? He’s gonna make it his life goal to make your cheeks grow red

He takes your hand in his, placing it atop of his chest, allowing you to feel the soft rise and fall of his breathing

This is something he does often, waiting for you to follow suit

Times like these are precious to him, because it shows him that you feel able to be vulnerable around him

In his eyes, vulnerability is so beautiful, even if it leaves your face tear stained and red

He presses his lips to your temple, lingering for a long moment

He wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while

Thanks for reading!!

#x reader #fanfic #fyp #candyk0rn #baldurs gate fanfic #Baldurs Gate 3 #baldurs gate headcanons #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate halsin #astarion x reader #bg3 gale #Gale x reader #Halsin x reader #bg3 #tav #x y/n #x tav

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gglitch1dd · 1 month

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Cheating Dilf Izuku Pt2

Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

[Part 1] [Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]

Context: Your eldest son isn't as ignorant as you and Izuku wished he was.

Warning: Eldest sibling syndrome, daddy issues, generational trauma

Toshinori leaned against the doorway of the sliding door. His father was outside playing with Kota and Hero, both boys trying desperately to get their father down and trying to tap out on the grass. Izuku laughed as he faked losing this round as he stayed down on the grass as both boys were piled ontop of him. “Alright alright! I give up.” He laughed. Hero and Kota gave each other a high five.

Toshinori couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his two younger brothers playing together, Kota’s eyes still having that light in them that hadn’t diminished. Toshinori was glad the young boy wasn’t as affected by the past six months like the rest of them were. When Shoyo died, it had left a gaping whole in the entire family, especially in you. Shoyo was only five and was Kota’s play mate considering they were so close in age, however, seeing Hero despite being three years older than Kota, play with his brother now made the eldest of the Midoriya boys at ease.

But the smile on his face quickly left when he reminded himself that he was here to talk to someone. To his father.

He forced a smiled to his face as he kicked off the doorway and walked further onto the deck outside. “Hey dad!” Izuku turned to look at his son with a smile. “Can I talk to you for second?”

Izuku stood up easily, ignoring the two giggling boys that now hung off his figure. It didn’t even hinder him at all as he nodded. “Sure thing.” He took Kota off his shoulders and Hero off from his back as he put both of them to stand back on the grass. “How about the both of you go back inside and turn on the Nintendo. We can play Mario Kart if you want.”

“Mario Kart!” Hero let out excitedly. “Yes!” He took Kota’s hand and the both of them went sprinting towards the door. They both paused as they slid, back on their shoes. Hero turned to look up at his older brother who had his hands resting in his sweatpants.

Toshinori nodded his head subtly, allowing them to go ahead. Both boys went sprinting back into the house. “No running!” He shouted after them. “The else mom will be tugging on your ears.” He reminded them as he slid the door closed.

Izuku moved onto the deck, up the few steps before grabbing a seat on the table that was there. He smiled at the sight of his oldest son. Toshinori was a rather skinny kid, after hitting puberty, but he was working on building muscle especially since he now had One for All. It was one of the things that took Izuku by surprise, with how well adjusted Toshinori was to having the quirk.

“Hey bud, what’s going on?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair. Toshinori hadn’t talked to him like this since before Shoyo had passed, so admittedly he was rather excited that he was willing to talk to him now. Over the past two weeks, he had been trying hard to get back into the boy’s lives and it had been easier for every other boy except for Toshinori. It was something that confused Izuku considering the both of them were so close to one another before, and Toshinori seemed to support and urge his brothers to spend time with him but wouldn’t do the same. “Is it friend troubles?”

Toshinori shook his head as he sat down opposite his father. “Nope.” He answered honestly.

“Is it a girl?” Izuku asked earning a blush from Toshinori.

“Dad!”

“What?” He chuckled with his hands up. “You’re a smooth kid. Is it Satomi? If so, I got to warn you that Uncle Eijiro is very protective of his daughter and-”

“No! No dad! It’s not Satomi.” He refuted with a flushed expression but a frown on his face. “She’s just a friend! Besides she’s my best friend’s sister so she’s an instant no go.”

Izuku was buying it (although he respected the bro code). Not a second. Considering how blatantly obvious it was that the girl had a crush on Toshinori since they were both toddlers, it was either that his eldest son was dense or he truly just didn’t have a crush on her. Izuku told himself that he’d spectate while on their vacation that the entire friend group had agreed to go on together.

“No, I just had a question for you.”

Izuku perked up and smiled. He folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. “Alright, shoot.” He stated, being an open book.

Toshinori sat in front of him with a smile, his eyes giving nothing away as he stared back at his father. “What did you do?”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “When? Today?” He asked not entirely sure on what his fourteen year old was getting at.

“You’ve changed.” Toshinori’s voice was calm and levelled, almost as if he was asking something casual. “For the past six months you’ve been working non-stop.” At the mention of the time frame, Izuku found himself tensing. “I can probably count on one hand how many conversations that weren’t greetings that we’ve had. And now suddenly, you go on leave. Now, habits formed are usually hard to break. So its either you miraculously came to your senses or mom got fed up, or you did something that mom found out about. Now I know it isn’t the first two, because mom would never give up on anyone of us, so the question is, what did you do?” he asked with a smile.

Izuku kept his poker face but inside his heart was beating fast enough that he could hardly breathe. How did Toshinori know? You couldn’t have told him. You refused to tell any of your children anything and honestly, your acting the past two weeks have been superb, almost great enough for Izuku to forget for just a second himself.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. “Toshinori, I have no idea what you are talking about.” He stated, lying through his front teeth. His son’s smile only broadened but he didn’t say anything. “I just realised that I had been rather busy-”

“Out of the 400 000 crimes committed in the last six months, three quarters of them being referred to ProHeroes, the top three hero agencies in this country dealt with 200 000. Uncle Shota’s Agency dealt with 40k, the DynaRiot agency had 60k, you dealt with the other 100 000.”

At the mention of the statistics, Izuku cringed. That was a lot. He admitted that he did overwork himself and his workers a lot the past six months. He let out a sigh as he moved a hand to rub his eyes. “I know I was busy-”

“You missed my birthday.”

That fact made Izuku freeze. His eyes flicked over to his son who stared right back at him, not a hint of anger nor sadness. When… when was Toshinori’s birthday?

“That’s impossible.” Izuku denied as he shook his head with a laugh. “Your fourteen-”

“I’m fifteen.” He whispered, the only sign that he felt upset about that fact. Which only made Izuku feel worse.

He missed his son’s birthday? He didn’t remember you ever telling him about a party or a plan for his birthday. Izuku was pale as a sheet as he remembered that Toshinori’s birth month was indeed four months ago.

Before he could get the chance to speak on it, Toshinori beat him to it. “It doesn’t matter. We were going through a lot so I didn’t expect a party anyways. I forgot myself to be honest, it was mom who had to remind me.” He spoke honestly as he leaned back in his chair. “But that doesn’t steer away from my question… what did you do?”

Izuku swallowed down hard but kept his composure. Unlike his brothers, Toshinori was a teenager. Her was perceptive and could understand a lot more than what he thought. “Toshi… it is none of your concern. Your mother and I talked, we sorted it out and everything is fine now.”

For the first time since the entire conversation, Toshinori’s smile fell as his eyebrows furrowed, he straightened up. “Dad, I respect you wholeheartedly, but it is my concern.”

“Toshinori, you’re a kid.”

“I think you forget that while you were busy at work, I was the one here at home keeping us all together!” Toshinori’s outburst surprised Izuku as his eyebrows raised in surprise, his eyes widened. His eldest son had finger to his chest as he frowned. His voice being raised as he looked straight at his father. “I was the one who did all of mom’s chores that week after Shoyo’s funeral, not you. I was the one who sat with my brother’s helping them with their homework cause mom didn’t have the energy and you weren’t there. I was the one who signed all of their tests and homework schedules and showed up alongside mom at parent teacher meetings when Asahi was fighting kids at school, not you.” His voice cracked for a second as tears brimmed his green eyes as he looked at his father with something mixed with pain and frustration. “You raised me to be the man of this house in case you weren’t around and here I am doing that! So please dad, don’t tell me that it doesn’t concern me!” He shouted.

Izuku sat frozen with wide eyes as he stared back at his son. For a scary moment he saw himself. He saw himself when he stood across from the glass in Tarturus supreme villain’s prison when he got to talk to his father. He remembered the pain and the agony of having to be the responsible one around and care for his mother and be less of a kid than others. His son was just like him.

And it scared him to his very being.

Toshinori froze as he realised that he had just shouted at his father. His pupils shrinking as instant regret washed over him. “I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry dad I…”

Izuku felt hurt as he moved to stand up to head over to his eldest son. “Toshi-”

“I’m tired. I went on a run this morning, I’m just not thinking straight.” In a flash of light, Toshinori was at the sliding door, opening it and walked back into the house in a rush, trying to get away from him as fast as possible.

You watched your son race past you as you carefully cut the toasted sandwiches you had made for lunch. You looked at him surprised and shocked as he raced past. “Toshinori?” You asked him surprised. To your surprise however, he didn’t stop. Your eyebrows furrowed as you set down your knife, wiping your hands as you quickly followed after him up the stairs. “Toshi? Toshi are you okay?” You asked as you raced after him.

“I’m fine, mom! I j-just need to make a phone call.” He lied and you could hear it so easily.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you quickly made an extra step and caught him right before he could get to his room. You took a hold of his arm as you forced him to stop running. You saw in his eyes he looked like he was panicking. You took a hold of his hand as you closed the door to his room before looking at him genuinely. “Toshi, come on talk to me. What is it?” You asked softly.

For a moment your son just looked at you but then you saw his face break. You saw that look of pure agony on his face as his hands started to shake. Tears spilled from his eyes as he tried to bite back a sob. You instinctively brought him in for a hug, holding him up as he broke down in your arms. Toshinori hadn’t cried since the funeral and lord knows that you didn’t hold him like this when it did happen. It was one of your biggest regrets, but you knew that everything would come out eventually. Like right now.

You held him tightly in your arms, wondering what on earth brought this about and what would you have to kill to make his agony end. You placed a kiss on his forehead as you just held him. You didn’t say anything, allowing his pain to pass as you took the moment to just be here for him.

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed into your chest as his hands gripped onto you painfully tight almost as if you were gonna disappear. His voice sounded so small as it cracked, his body shivering in your grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

You shushed him quietly as you rest your head on his as you carefully pat his back the same way you did when he was younger. “It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” You spoke softly as you held him.

“No, it’s not! I’m so angry, momma.” His voice was muffled but you heard every word of it. “Why wasn’t he here earlier? Why now! I know you don’t want me to be angry but I was so disrespectful. I’m so sorry.”

You shushed him quietly as you held him tighter against you. “Oh my little sprout… Holding such anger isn’t good for your heart my love. I’m not angry and you shouldn’t be.” You told him softly as you held him in your arms. You let out soft hums as you held him. You held him until the world melted away and until his crying and shaking stopped. You held him until he was the first one to let go.

You took out a handkerchief you always kept on you, being a mom to so many children. You handed it to him as you smiled. You placed a kiss on his forehead. “Toshi, my baby, how about you take a nap hm? Then we can go for a walk later in the evenings, just the two of us. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He nodded with an exhausted look on his face. “Okay.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

You left Toshi by himself, allowing him to work whatever feelings he still had left or to just nap. You stayed against his door for a moment as you tried to fight back a scowl. You swallowed down hard as you moved back downstairs. “Boys! Food is in the kitchen!” You called out, noting that you should bring up food to Toshinori so he doesn’t have to come down. However, your priority was Izuku. You walked straight outside, opening as you looked at him as he stood facing the garden. “What did you talk about with Toshinori?” You asked lowly.

Izuku was silent for a moment, his hands in his pockets as he just stared at the garden, bunnies hopping out of their burrow. “He knows something happened.” His voice was deadpanned but showed concern. “He doesn’t know what.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him it wasn’t his concern and that we talked about it and everything I said that day was true.”

“Good.” You let out coldly but you didn’t move from where you both stood. He could hear it in your voice, just how ready you were to cut into him if he had broken the agreement of not telling the kids. You noticed how tense his shoulders were. Whatever Toshinori had said to him, was enough to cut into him deeply.

You frowned but walked away.

Izuku heard you leave, his shoulders falling, glad that you would leave him be to his own devices and wallow in self-hate. He hated this. He hated the feeling that he had ruined his relationship with his eldest son and had put so much responsibility and pain onto him. He was a kid for goodness sake. He didn’t deserve any of this. Izuku dragged a hand down his face, trying to stop himself from shedding tears. This wasn’t a time to cry but he was choking up from the inside.

Izuku heard footsteps behind him and instantly he brought himself together. “Hey bud-” instead of it being one of the boys, it was you.

You held a tray of sandwiches and lemonade along with home made mochis. You looked at him with a frown but placed the tray on the table next to him. Sitting in the tray was a pack of tissues as well. Before he could look at you again, you turned around and headed straight back inside. “Eat something. You’re getting skinny.” With that you left him alone.

Izuku was frozen as he stared down at the tray. Lord knows he wasn’t as skinny as he once was… but that was because of you. You always made him good hearty food that always made him feel so full and grateful. You always fed him whenever he was in a bad mood.

Even now.

He couldn’t help but smile.

-Glitch1d

#mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader angst #midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku angst #deku x reader angst #dilf midoriya #dilf deku

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 27 days

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Buttons

The request from @toomanytookas: I have such fond memories of my grandmother teaching me how to sew on her old Singer. Obviously a WILDLY different context for a million different reasons, but I love the idea of of Pin showing Joel how to sew or just explaining the general mechanics of using the machine. Maybe some physical guidance/touching a la the pottery scene in Ghost?

If you'd prefer to play with other characters, it would be sweet to see her teach Ellie now that she's working at the shop and I imagine she'd be curious about it!

Seams sleepover micro drabble request | 900 words | warnings: rated M for dirty thoughts and slightly dirty talk, outrageous flirting, topless Joel Miller | can be read independently of the series but is part of the Seams universe

‘Nice tits, Miller!’

Joel chokes on his corn chowder as Tommy’s voice rings loud and obnoxious in the half-empty cafeteria, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he makes himself comfortable opposite him, tray hitting the table with a clatter.

‘Seriously though, put them away before Maria sees you. This is a family place, y’know.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘Shut up, jackass.’

Tommy studies the familiar green plaid shirt on his brother that is sitting open to the sternum. ‘Buttons fell off, huh?’

‘Aren’t you a regular Sherlock Holmes.’

‘Pin gettin’ a bit rough with ya?’

Joel splutters, raising his fork in what he hopes is a menacing reproach. ‘Hey!’

‘Just jokin’, big bro. And no judgement if she is.’

He scoffs. ‘This is gettin’ real weird, Tommy -’

‘Why don’t you ask her to sew ’em back for you?’

‘She ain’t my seamstress.’

‘She’s a seamstress. And your girlfriend.’

Joel snorts. ‘You ask Maria to do all your chores for you?’

Tommy shrugs and replies around a mouthful of mashed potato. ‘Ask Pin to teach you then. What's that they say about fishermen and fishin’?’

He has a point, Joel has to concede. That’s how he ends up at your studio that afternoon, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you on the sewing machine. He likes the steady, mechanical staccato of the needle, the whirring wheel and the metallic squeak of the pedal as your hands and feet all move in almost nonchalant choreography.

He knows that under that ease lies years of experience, and there’s an understatedness about your movements that makes him stop and stare every time you're at the antique sewing machine.

He waits patiently for a lull, not wanting to disrupt your rhythm. When you pause to inspect the stitching you’ve been working on, Joel knocks on the doorframe.

His lips twitch when you startle, eyes wide as your head whips around at him, and it brings him right back to the day you meet, just a few feet from where he stands now.

But then you break into a wide smile. ‘What are you doing sneaking up on me, Joel Miller?’

He closes the distance with three steps, bending down to drop a kiss on your lips. ‘Just wanted to say hello - and to ask for a favour.’

You stare up at him, admiring the way a stray lock curls over his eyes. ‘What is it?’

Joel tugs on the front of his shirt. ‘Was wonderin’ if you can teach me how to sew my buttons back on.’

You eye his neckline, which is suspiciously low. ‘I thought you were just trying something new,’ you quip.

Arching an eyebrow, he asks, ‘Is it workin’ for you, sweetheart?’

Hooking your finger into the open V of the shirt, you grin. ‘I’m not complaining, but it doesn’t hurt to fix it. Take it off.’

Joel huffs, joking, ‘Buy me dinner first, at least?’

You watch his fingers push the little buttons out of the holes, baring broad chest and freckles with every downward inch. You hum when he gets to the bottom of the shirt and it hangs open, nothing but bare skin under it. ‘No undervest?’

‘Feel like showin’ off today,’ he winks and disrobes with a smooth roll of his shoulders.

You can’t help it, your breath catches - at the strong shoulders, the soft belly, the way he has one hand on his hip - and by the self-satisfied curl of his lips, you know he knows.

Clearing your throat, you stand and take his shirt from his grasp, the warmth of the fabric comforting in your hands. ‘Come sit over here.’

‘We’re not using the machine?’

‘Not for sewing buttons,’ you reply, opening a little box to find matching ones for his shirt.

‘Okay, step one,’ you seat yourself next to him and hand him the supplies. ‘Thread the needle.’

The thread looks more like a blade of the most delicate hair in between his thumb and index finger, and the needle comically small. But his hands are remarkably steady, and he surprises you by nimbly pushing the thread through the eye on his second try.

‘Pull the thread through and keep going,’ you instruct, snipping it off with scissors when you’re satisfied with the length. ‘Now, we need to knot the end. Loop the thread around your finger a couple of times, pinch it with your thumb and pull the end through.’

He does so with aplomb, and you remark, more to yourself than anything. ‘Your fingers are really dexterous for their size.’

Joel wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘You should know that first hand, hmm?’

A comment like that would’ve had you ducking your head a few months ago. But now, you narrow your eyes at him in playful admonishment. ‘So full of yourself, Joel Miller.’

Dragging your chair towards him, he leans in and murmurs against your ear. ‘Ain’t you the one who was full of me last night -’

Heat rushes to your cheek as he noses the sensitive skin behind your ear. ‘Joel, I thought you wanted to fix your shirt -’

Pushing the needle into a pin cushion, he shrugs and pulls you into his lap with a smirk, his skin hot under your touch.

‘Luckily, I don’t really need a shirt for what I want to do right now, sweetheart.’

More notes: Thank you for this adorable prompt @toomanytookas! I hope you don't mind that I tweaked it a little bit. I love that you have such beautiful memories with your grandma. Mine used to sew and do cross-stitch, I miss her so much 🥹

#fuckyeahseams #seams sleepover #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

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Kickstarting “The Bezzle” audiobook, sequel to Red Team Blues

I'm heading to Berlin! On January 29, I'll be delivering Transmediale's Marshall McLuhan Lecture, and on January 30, I'll be at Otherland Books (tickets are limited! They'll have exclusive early access to the English edition of The Bezzle and the German edition of Red Team Blues!).

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to last year's Red Team Blues, featuring Marty Hench, a hard-charging, two-fisted forensic accountant who spent 40 years in Silicon Valley, busting every finance scam hatched by tech bros' feverish imaginations:

http://thebezzle.org

Marty Hench is a great character to write. His career in high-tech scambusting starts in the early 1980s with the first PCs and stretches all the way to the cryptocurrency era, the most target-rich environment for scamhunting tech has ever seen. Hench is the Zelig of tech scams, and I'm having so much fun using him to probe the seamy underbelly of the tech economy.

Enter The Bezzle, which will be published by Tor Books and Head of Zeus on Feb 20: this adventure finds Marty in the company of Scott Warms, one of the many bright technologists whose great startup was bought and destroyed by Yahoo! (yes, they really used that asinine exclamation mark). Scott is shackled to the Punctuation Factory by golden handcuffs, and he's determined to get fired without cause, so he can collect his shares and move onto the next thing.

That's how Scott and Marty find themselves on Catalina island, the redoubt of the Wrigley family, where bison roam the hills, yachts bob in the habor and fast food is banned. Scott invites Marty on a series of luxury vacations on Catalina, which end abruptly when they discover – and implode – a hamburger-related Ponzi scheme run by a real-estate millionaire who is destroying the personal finances of the Island's working-class townies out of sheer sadism.

Scott's victory is bittersweet: sure, he blew up the Ponzi scheme, but he's also made powerful enemies – the kinds of enemies who can pull strings with the notoriously corrupt LA County Sheriff's Deputies who are the only law on Catalina, and after taking a pair of felony plea deals, Scott gets the message and never visits Catalina Island again.

That could have been the end of it, but California's three-strikes law – since rescinded – means that when Scott picks up one more felony conviction for some drugs discovered during a traffic stop, he's facing life in prison.

That's where The Bezzle really gets into gear.

At its core, The Bezzle is a novel about the "shitty technology adoption curve": the idea that our worst technological schemes are sanded smooth on the bodies of prisoners, mental patients, kids and refugees before they work their way up the privilege gradient and are inflicted on all of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

America's prisons are vicious, brutal places, and technology has only made them worse. When Scott's prison swaps out in-person visits, the prison library, and phone calls for a "free" tablet that offers all these services as janky apps that cost ten times more than they would on the outside, the cruelty finds a business model.

Working inside and outside the prison Marty Hench and Scott Warms figure out the full nature of the scam that the captive audience of prisoners are involuntary beta-testers for, and they discover a sprawling web of real-estate fraud, tech scams, and offshore finance that is extracting fortunes from the hides of America's prisoners and their families. The criminals who run that kind of enterprise aren't shy about fighting for what they've got, and they're more than happy to cut some of LA County's notorious deputy gangs in for a cut in exchange for providing some kinetic support for the project.

The Bezzle is exactly the kind of book I was hoping I'd get to write when I kicked off the Hench series – one that decodes the scam economy, from music royalties to prison videoconferencing, real estate investment trusts to Big Four accounting firm bogus audits. It's both a fast-moving, two-fisted crime novel and a masterclass on how the rich and powerful get away with both literal and figurative murder.

It's getting a big push from both my publishers and I'll be touring western Canada and the US with it. The early reviews are spectacular. But despite all of this, I had to make my own audiobook for it, which I'm pre-selling on Kickstarter:

http://thebezzle.org

Why? Because Audible – Amazon's monopoly gatekeeper to the audiobook world, with more than 90% of the market – refuses to carry my work.

Audible uses Digital Rights Management to lock every audiobook they sell to their platform. Legally, only an Audible-authorized app can decrypt and play the audiobooks they sell you. Distributing a tool that removes Audible DRM is a felony under Section 1201 of the 1998 DMCA.

That means that if you break up with Audible – delete your Audible apps – you will lose your entire audiobook library. And the fact that you're Audible's hostage makes the writers you love into their hostages, too. Writers understand that if they leave the Audible platform, their audience will have to choose between following them, or losing all their audiobooks.

That's how Audible gets away with abusing its performers and writers, up to and including the $100m Audiblegate wage-theft scandal:

https://www.audiblegate.com/

Audible can steal $100m from its writers…and the writers still continue to sell on the platform, because leaving will cost them their audience.

This is canonical enshittification: lock in users, then screw suppliers. Lots of companies abuse DRM to do this, but none can hold a candle to Amazon, who understand that the DMCA is a copyright law that protects corporations at the expense of creators.

Under DMCA 1201 commercial distribution of a "circumvention device" carries a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that if I write a book, pay to have it recorded, and then sell it to you through Audible, I am criminally prohibited from giving you the tool to take it from Audible to another platform. Even though I hold the copyright to that work, I would face a harsher sentence than you would if you simply pirated the audiobook from some darknet site. Not only that: if you shoplifted the audiobook in CD form, you'd get a lighter sentence than I, the copyright holder, would receive for giving you a tool to unlock it from Amazon's platform! Hell, if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CD, you'd get off lighter than I would. This is a scam straight out of a Marty Hench novel.

This is batshit. I won't allow it. My books are licensed on the condition that they must not be sold with DRM. Which means that Audible won't sell my books, which means that my publishers are thoroughly disinterested in paying thousands of dollars to produce audiobooks of my titles. A book that isn't sold in the one store than accounts for 90% of all sales is unlikely to do well.

That's where you come in. Since 2020, I've used Kickstarter to pre-sell five of my audiobooks (I wrote nine books during lockdown!). All told, I've raised over $750,000 (gross! but still!) on these crowdfunders. More than 20,000 backers have pitched in! The last two of these books – The Internet Con and The Lost Cause – were national bestsellers.

This isn't just a way for me to pay off a lot of bills and put away something for retirement – it's proof that readers care about supporting writers and don't want to be locked in by a giant monopolist that depends on its drivers pissing in bottles to make quota.

It's a powerful message about the desire for something better than Amazon. It's part of the current that is driving the FTC to haul Amazon into court for being a monopolist, and also part of the inspiration for other authors to try treating Amazon as damage and routing around it, with spectacular results:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dragonsteel/surprise-four-secret-novels-by-brandon-sanderson

And I'm doing it again. Last December, I went into Skyboat Media's studios where Gabrielle De Cuir directed @wilwheaton, who reprised his role as Marty Hench for the audiobook of The Bezzle. It came out amazing:

https://archive.org/details/bezzle-sample

Now I'm pre-selling this audiobook, as well as the ebook and hardcover for The Bezzle. I'm also offering bundles with the ebook and audiobook for Red Team Blues (naturally these are all DRM-free). You can get your books signed and personalized and shipped anywhere in the world, courtesy of Book Soup, and I've partnered with Libro.fm to deliver DRM-free audiobooks with an app for people who don't want to mess around with sideloading.

I've also got some spendy options for high rollers. There's three chances to name a character in the next Hench novel (Picks and Shovels, Feb 2025). There's also five chances to commission a Hench short story about your favorite tech scam, and get credited when the story is published.

The Kickstarter runs for the next three weeks, which should give me time to get the hardcopy books signed and shipped to arrive around the on-sale date. What's more, I've finally worked out all the post-Brexit kinks with shipping my UK publisher's books to EU backers. I'm working with Otherland Books to fulfill those EU orders, and it looks like I'm going to be able to sign a giant stack of those when I'm in Berlin later this month to give the annual Marshall McLuhan lecture at the Canadian embassy:

https://transmediale.de/en/2024/event/mcluhan-2024

Red Team Blues and its sequels are some of the most fun – and informative – work I've done in my quarter-century career. I love how they blend technical explanations of the scam economy with high-intensity technothrillers. That's the the same mix as my bestselling YA series Little Brother series – but these are firmly adult novels.

The Bezzle came out great. I hope you'll give it a try – and that you'll come out to see me in late February when I hit the road with the book! Here's that Kickstarter link again:

http://thebezzle.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/10/the-bezzle/#marty-hench

#pluralistic #kickstarter #audible #the bezzle #bezzles #prison tech #disciplinary technology #crowdfunding #wilw #wil wheaton #audiobooks #publishing #science fiction #marty hench #martin hench #red team blues #shitty technology adoption curve #reits

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earthtooz · 1 year

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OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1

includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL

a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!

MIKAGE REO:

if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself.

but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.

despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one.

“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”

something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.

“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.

she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”

“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”

with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.

just like everyone around you.

you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity.

no one would bother to look too long anyways.

you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.

suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.

bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.

it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop.

turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?

“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?”

“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.

“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”

a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.

“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.

“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his.

you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face.

your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.

“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.

he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”

his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”

he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude.

“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired.

opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.

“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”

taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.

“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.

with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.

he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.

eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands.

“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.

you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support.

the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you.

but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult.

the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.

“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.

“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”

the silence is deafening.

“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”

usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”

“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”

his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.

“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.”

“but is choosing me the right decision?”

“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”

the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands.

“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness.

he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.

“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”

“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”

pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you.

“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.”

he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.”

his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”

“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”

the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you.

“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.

“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”

“then what am i?”

“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”

“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”

reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”

“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”

“thought you’d never ask.”

MICHAEL KAISER:

“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating.

kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.

right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.

that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.

you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him.

as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself.

it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.

repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.

you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.

you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him.

dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.

“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.

not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.

“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”

rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”

“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.

“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”

“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”

with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.

passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night.

you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.

it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.

“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.

one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks.

you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.

“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.

“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.”

“excuse me?”

“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement.

the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.

“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”

“break up with him, duh?”

“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.”

“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”

“gold digger!”

now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together.

being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness.

you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”

“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”

before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”

then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own.

“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only.

“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”

he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.

“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way.

once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.

“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”

you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.

“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”

kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”

“it hardly matters-”

“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”

his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll.

“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.”

he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs.

“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”

before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.

“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”

“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”

“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”

“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”

ISAGI YOICHI:

“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.

“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”

“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”

“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake.

he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.

this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.

readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.

“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.

everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face.

“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances.

“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.

after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.

“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.

you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.

however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.

“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.

the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”

“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.

“of course! come on.”

the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.

“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.

simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.

the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”

“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”

although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”

isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”

the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.

“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”

isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.

“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”

he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.

where did you run off to?

right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”

deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.

“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?”

“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”

“what about the gift?”

“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”

relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”

“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”

“what’s the occasion?”

“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”

#oh everyone is SO ooc but meh #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabble #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #kaiser x reader #isagi fluff #yoichi isagi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo drabble #reo fluff #kaiser fluff #kaiser drabble #isagi drabble

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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

Text

Hurricane Relief

This is part 2.

You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of a disaster and how we learn to cope, move on, and grow.

Word Count: 4k

Notes: 1) This is based off of s1e8, but we are going to pretend that Syd did the tablet thing correctly and Carmen doesn't lose his shit in ep7.

2) I am a completionist at heart so I felt an obligation to finish this because I know that if I was reading something and I didn't get a confession at the end I would riot and I aim to please.

“Where did you get the money for bail?”

“Used our two week parachute.”

Y/n, barely conscious felt something pushed up against her chest. She peeked her eyes open and saw that she was sitting in the backseat of Carmen’s car already buckled in. She shifted over to her left so she could rest her elbow on the armrest against the door and balance her head. Carmen glanced through the rear view mirror to confirm that she was still asleep, he locked the car door so she wouldn’t fall out.

Richie looked back before uttering a small, “Thank you, cousin.” It was strangely vulnerable to thank someone and even more vulnerable to do it with an audience, even if they were asleep.

“All good.”

After a few more beats of silence, y/n assumed that their bro moment had reached its conclusion and that she could finally pretend that she had just woken up. Then she heard a sniffle, at first she thought that her mind was playing tricks on her but she heard it again, and then a few more times. Maybe now was not the best time to announce her presence.

“You okay?” Although she couldn’t see Carmen’s face she was hearing concern and a bit of apprehension. She could tell he wasn’t comfortable with consoling Richie.

A small but broken, “Yeah…I’m okay” escaped Richie’s mouth.

Unable to resist, she stole a quick glance at the rearview mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of Carmen's eyes. They appeared slightly glassy, yet the softness in the corners revealed a simmering sense of relief. Though he was clearly upset, she reassured herself that he would ultimately be alright. Once they returned to the restaurant, she planned to check in on him, but without pressuring him. Recognizing his need for rest, space, and comfort, she understood that he often neglected these needs for the sake of others but she was determined to ensure he received the care he truly deserved.

Carmen took one last look back before pulling out of the parking spot and driving them back to the restaurant. Y/n was wide awake now but she knew that both Carmen and Richie needed some time and space to process what had happened. None of that would work if she was visibly awake, she had a feeling that they would pretend to be all tough by pushing their problems aside because they didn’t want a girl to see them being “sensitive”. So she planned to keep her head down and wait till they were near the restaurant to “wake up.”

The ride back was slow and smooth, Carmen didn’t drive over a single pothole, he stopped softly, and didn’t honk once, which was rare in Chicago. He wanted to drive her home and put her to bed but he had a feeling that she would be pissed if he dropped her off home while they went back to the restaurant.

They were 45 minutes away from the restaurant but he was wondering if he should wake her up when they got there, or if he should let her sleep in his car. If he left her in the car she would be able to sleep in but it wasn’t safe, what if someone broke a window? At the same time, if he brought her to the restaurant, there was nowhere for her to rest. He was driving on auto-pilot while he was trying to figure out the best way to approach the dilemma, because if there was one thing that Carmen was good at it was overthinking.

On top of worrying about y/n, Carmen had to steal a few quick glances at Richie to make sure that he was ok, it was hard to tell because he was looking out the window but the reflection showed Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, he was thinking about something, or someone. Thinking was better than being depressed.

A small selfish part of Carmen wondered if anyone would ever dissect every small aspect of him to make sure that he was also ok, like he did for others.

The car ride was peaceful and quiet until a neighboring vehicle suddenly honked near y/n’s window, causing her to jolt and accidentally slam her forehead against the glass.

“Jesus, fuck.” Y/n hissed while putting her cold hand on her forehead to calm the bruise that would inevitably form. Her cover was blown.

Carmen’s head whipped back, “Are you ok?”

“I'm good, it's just a small bump.” She tried to rub the forehead to quell the pain but it was too tender. “Pay attention to the road, I don’t want to see another police officer for the rest of my life.” Carmen involuntarily flicked his eyes to y/n’s forehead through the rear view mirror.

Y/n couldn’t tell what Richie’s status was and he hadn’t made a single peep the entire car ride, even when she was “asleep”, so she couldn’t gauge whether or not she should talk to him.

“We’re glad to have you back, Richie '' She left it open and didn’t expect any response in return. He didn’t respond but he moved his eyes from the passenger window to the windshield and sat up straight. Y/n felt a bit of uneasiness, this was the longest Richie was quiet and she kind of wanted him to make fun of Carmen or at least laugh, something to show that he wasn’t hurting.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, they eventually pulled up to the restaurant and they walked in. Y/n and Carmen had left the restaurant as it was and even though they knew it was a mess, it was a different beast in daylight. Both y/n and Carmen walked to their lockers to grab their emergency toothbrush and other hygiene products in an effort to look less dead.

Once they freshen up they went their separate ways. Y/n walked behind the counter and pushed some styrofoam cups aside to start the coffee machine. She waited for the coffee to finish brewing before pouring a cup for the three of them. Richie took one of the cups off the counter and disappeared.

She walked over to Carmen who was throwing away half eaten food from the tables.

“Here.” she handed a cup over to him and once again their fingers brushed each other but this time she forced herself to ignore the electricity. Whatever she was feeling would be an additional burden to Carmen, one more thing for him to worry about. Carmen didn’t need this right now, he needed some calm and space.

She heard a soft thanks, and even though she was supposed to give him space she couldn’t suppress the urge to check on him one more time. His eyes were no longer glassy but the dark circles told her everything she needed to know. He glanced up at her face, finally getting his first good look at her since they left the station. He walked over to the kitchen door and signaled y/n to join him right before he disappeared. She heard some shuffling and she walked over to the kitchen after taking one more look at Richie who looked like he was doing better.

Y/n went to the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised that it was not as bad as the front, it wasn’t great but still miles better. The kitchen was empty but Carmen’s office door was wide open, she peered inside to see him holding a ziplock filled with a bit of ice and water.

He shut the door and pulled out a chair indicating that she was supposed to sit. She sat and looked up at Carmen before feeling the ice on her forehead. She groaned in discomfort, “You didn’t have to.” Carmen moved the bag around so the cold didn’t hurt. Y/n felt like she wasn’t doing enough, she was supposed to take care of him and here he was taking care of her. That wouldn’t do.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked while avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t look at them without getting distracted and she needed to focus on Carmen.

“I'm good.” Soft but left no room for elaboration. Y/n knew she couldn’t crack a few jokes to make him feel better, that was wholly inappropriate. She also couldn’t probe for answers either because that would just stress him out, any form of pressure would probably make him feel like a caged animal being cornered. Saying nothing felt like they were ignoring the very obvious elephant in the room. It was like all roads lead to nothing unless Carmen opened up a bit more, which didn’t seem like was going to happen so y/n settled for a distraction.

“Is it bad?” Y/n said while touching the bag of ice barley missing his fingers. She ignored Carmen’s body heat that was radiating onto her side and she also pretended not to notice the way that his lips parted in concentration.

“I'm going to need you to be honest with me, don’t worry I can take it. If I look like shit you’ve gotta tell me so I can get some impromptu bangs or something.”

“You don’t look like shit.” Carmen mumbled.

“I bet I don’t look good,” Y/n swiveled around towards Carmen’s desk for some scissors, “bangs it is.”she exclaimed. Y/n was only joking but she needed a bit of a breather before she broke her own rule about giving Carmen some space.

Carmen grabbed the chair’s armrest and swung it swiftly so she was facing him again. Her heart leaped out. “You look like how you always do.” He was too much of a wimp to call her breathtaking, the word felt foreign in his head; he could only imagine how disturbing it would be to hear it from his lips. He gently grabbed her chin before putting the ice on her forehead again. Y/n couldn’t escape this time.

The silence was killing her and she thought she should at least talk about her own experience to let him know that they could talk to each other about stuff like this.

“I was really scared...” Carmen looked into her eyes and they softened a bit.

“I was scared that Richie was going to be in jail for basically forever…and …and,” Y/n hesitated, was what she was about to say to Carmen considered cornering him?

“I was scared for you.” Carmen’s hand stalled midair, still holding the bag of ice. He didn’t move for a few moments, “I was worried that this would..” She couldn’t think of what to say next. She could feel the gears in her head working overtime to churn out something that would summarize what she was feeling. “..break you and you wouldn’t let me help you.” She felt her eyes start to burn and a lump form in her throat that was choking her. She wouldn’t cry, he couldn’t deal with his own problems while consoling her.

“I would have been okay.”

Y/n waited till the lump in her throat stopped burning. “You always are Carmen, but sometimes it’s nice to be better than okay…” She couldn’t do anything about her voice cracking but she might as well finish before she became a mess, “You deserve it.”

Y/n said her piece and they both simmered in the quiet. A sigh reverberated through the walls and Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes. His lips parted and closed a few times as he tried to formulate a response but nothing he could think off would sound as well-put together as y/n’s thoughts. He felt like he was seven again, a stuttering pathetic idiot who couldn’t say something as simple as a thanks.

Y/n knew that they were done for now, she had exhausted him so she was finally ready to give him that space that he desperately needed. She slowly got up and slipped the bag of ice out of his hand and walked towards the door. Carmen didn’t look at her as she left but as soon as the door closed, he sank to the floor and sat there for a very long time.

He finally leaves the office to help with the clean up and is greeted by the crew. Y/n was at the very end scrubbing her countertop which was covered in glitter. As he walks past the crew to survey the damage to the front, he gets a pair of gemstone covered stringy underwear swung towards his face.

“This is not respect.” Ebra continues to wave the underwear at Carmen’s face.

“No, chef. That is not respect.”

Carmen walked to the front and felt another weight lifted off his shoulder to see that the majority of the mess had been cleaned up. It felt like he was finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. His chest felt a bit lighter and he knew it was thanks to the people around him.

He walked to the kitchen and started slicing some onions, he would be in charge of family dinner. As he was making the sauce, he couldn’t help but notice that he had yet to hear or see y/n, not that she wasn’t in the restaurant but it was like she was doing her very best not to be noticed. She was quietly peeling garlic and even though Carmen hadn’t responded to her, he could tell that they would be alright. He just knew in his bones that they would come back together, he was going to make sure of it.

As he opened the tomato can and dumped it in, he noticed a bit of green. Mold? Killing the heat, he swiped the sauce away and picked it up to remove the plastic to reveal a wad of money.

Y/n heard Carmen yell for Richie but she didn’t think much of it before she started hearing, “Shit…Fuck..”

A few minutes later the whole crew were opening cans of tomato sauce to dig out the money that was hidden within. Once all the money was out, Richie cleaned it up and sorted it, the crew cleaned up the sauce and Carmen finished up the pasta.

They sat down for dinner, but y/n had no appetite. However, she couldn't afford to leave her plate unfinished without drawing attention. She discreetly observed Carmen, piece by piece, just to make sure that he was okay, actually more than okay. His hands were relaxed, she took a bite. His shoulders were at ease, another bite. His jaw was unclenched, yet another bite. And finally, the most crucial part, she stole a fleeting glance into his eyes. As she raised her head slightly to check, to her surprise, their eyes met. Against her instincts, y/n held his gaze. It left her breathless. For the first time, y/n saw a serenity in Carmen's eyes that she had never witnessed before.

With this newfound contentment, it became evident that Carmen had discovered a new version of stability. If maintaining their current relationship, or lack thereof, could grant him such ease and relaxation, y/n was willing to patiently wait for him to embrace a future together, even if it meant waiting for years or even decades. She didn’t want him to relish in the calm but expect it, expect that life was also fun and full of love. Her wish was for him to experience a life of unwavering stability, so that even if unexpected challenges arose as he always anticipated, he would know he was not alone and that he would always prevail.

Y/n was proud of him, which is a strange thing to say considering the fact that he was a tax paying adult, but she couldn’t help but give him a small smile that said I see you and I’m so fucking in love with you.

Carmen wasn’t a poet by any means but he finally understood why people write poems about other people. A picture of y/n would have captured her beauty but a poem would have explained it. It was just a smile and he didn’t know why but it was burned into his memory. Y/n looked away to ask Sydney something but if Carmen closed his eyes she was still smiling at him. Y/n had given him many smiles but he knew at this very moment that he couldn’t last another day without her being his. It wasn’t just a smile, it was the weight behind it, the pressure that it put on his chest when she looked away from him, the gleaming aura that wouldn’t let him look away…

It was everything, it was his everything, you were his everything.

Dinner concluded, everything was cleaned up, and Carmen was no longer in his fantasy land where y/n was being lit by the sunlight or party lights and making him yearn, he had never yearned before. Carmen assumed that seeing her in the shitty kitchen lighting and in her messy apron would bring him back to reality but he was sorely mistaken. The pinnacle of his admiration wasn't confined to the previous night or that particular meal; it persisted, unyielding. It didn’t die down when she spilled a bit of oil on the counter, or when she flipped of Richie for god knows what, or when she sampled Sydney's experimental dish and tactfully suggested it needed something more, or when she stepped over to the side to redo her hair, or when she shook her foot because her legs were aching. He could never get tired of her. He could watch her stirring for days on end, each rotation captivating him anew. He could witness her redoing her hair for centuries, and boredom would remain a foreign concept. He could watch her smiling till the sun exploded billions of years in the future, and still, an insatiable craving for more would persist within him.

Time flew by and before she knew it the clock struck 10:30pm and y/n looked up from her stovetop and realized that she was the only person left in the kitchen. It was a bit strange to be alone in the kitchen without Carmen, it felt like a regular room. It lacked the mystic that Carmen brought into any room. She wandered into Carmen’s office but it was empty. The front was empty as well and y/n was getting a bit worried. She grabbed her cardigan from her locker, turned on her phone flashlight and just went to the back of the restaurant and sure enough she found Carmen lighting a cigarette. The phone light was the only source of light other than a very dim street light at the very end of the block, and the small fire lit on the end of the cigarette. She saw that he was surrounded by quite a few cigarettes, five plus the one he was smoking now.

Carmen looked like a deer caught in headlights. Y/n leaned on the wall so she could see what was compelling him to stay here for what must have been an hour but it was just a brick wall. Carmen shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her.

She waved her hand, “I’ve got a sweater and it's not that cold today.” She was getting deja vu.

“The bricks are rough.”

Y/n leaned forward to avoid scraping her favorite cardigan but he took this as an opportunity to stand in front of her and slip the jacket through her arms. He straightened the jacket near the neck line. His hand glided down the open panels. Although he didn't physically touch her, she could sense his warmth emanating through the narrow gap.

Y/n said she could wait but what she wouldn’t give for him to grab the collar and kiss her. His lips were wet from licking them and she didn’t notice that he was staring at her lips too.

Carmen snubbed his cigarette on the wall near y/n’s waist, and then dropped the cigarette but leaving his hand still there. “Y/n.”

A soft hum escaped her barely parted lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. It was as if she had entered a trance while staring at his lips, and even when he attempted to snap her out of it, she effortlessly slipped back into another spellbound state, captivated by the depths of his eyes.

“I have to kiss you.”

He searched her eyes for a sign of hesitation but y/n wrapped her arms behind his neck and leaned forward. Carmen closed the gap and at that moment he knew that he was never going to be able to get enough of her. He slipped a hand behind her head and another on her hip. He pushed her deeper against the wall and he was having a hard time thinking, his head was spinning and it was making it difficult to imprint this sensation into his memory. It felt like trying to remember an ocean’s wave or a ripple in the sand.

His lungs were burning and even though he knew that he couldn’t stay conscious for longer, he couldn’t pull himself away.

After a few moments, y/n withdrew slightly, locking eyes with him, her beautiful gaze penetrating his soul. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, he instinctively leaned in, their foreheads touching. The kiss left him breathless, yet he yearned to prolong the contact, craving more of her touch.

Their breath mixed with each other before y/n tightened her grip around him and leaned forward to kiss him one more time, this time with a deliberate slowness that amplified the intimacy between them. He made a conscious effort to imprint the sensations in his memory, but they tantalizingly lingered before elusively slipping away, beckoning him to kiss her once more for a more vivid recollection. It felt new even after the first, second, third, and fourth kiss, as if each one unveiled a new layer of their connection. Carmen could die here and people would be able to honestly say that he died a happy man. He smirked against her lips, unable to help himself.

They pulled away for one last time before Carmen slid his hands down her body and eventually they had lost contact.

Y/n grabbed his hand and led him back to the restaurant and in the bright lights, y/n looked down at their interlocked hands trying to finally remember the sensation that she had missed a few days prior but was pulled out of it when she noticed that his hands were covered in cuts and scrapes.

“What the hell happened to your hand?” Carmen's head felt like it was swimming.

He mumbled out a soft, “I think it was the bricks,” and then added, “I told you they were rough.”

“You should have moved them as soon as they started to hurt.” Y/n grabbed for the first aid kit so she could tend to his wounds.

Carmen didn’t care that his hand was scraped up because he didn’t want any part of y/n digging into the rough brick, and a scuffed hand was a small price to pay.

“Better me than you.”

“You’re literally so annoying, I can't even look at you right now. Take me home, Berzatto.” Y/n humorously rolled her eyes and finished wrapping him up.

And with that, Carmen finally found himself standing on solid ground, a place of stability and certainty. In the embrace of y/n's love, he discovered a resolute foundation upon which he could build a future with her. He no longer felt adrift, but rather firmly anchored in a love that provided solace.

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lizthewriter · 7 months

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hii! so first of all, i LOVE your work and your writing style so much. so i was reading your last theo nott drabble and an idea came to my mind: it’s a gryffindor (maybe) party but it’s acc a theme party. the theme is dressing up as another house and reader (not a slytherin) borrows some of the boys’ quidditch clothes (like a bomber jacket or a jersey) and theo/mattheo get super jealous even though reader and him aren’t together. but it’s like he’s been after her for the whole year but she likes to play hard bc he normally doesn’t have to make any effort to have whoever girl he wants at his feet, and she doesn’t want to be just another girl, if you get what i mean? so she just shows up wearing another guys’ name and he goes feral.

A/N I'm so sorry this took me forever to write 😭. I've started college and boy is it overwhelming. Well! Here's part one to your request ehehe *burnt out* I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for showing support anon, I really appreciate it! If you guys get this to 1250 notes, I will prioritze part two <3

you make me jealous / theodore nott

PAIRING Theodore Nott x fem!Reader

SUMMARY part one in an upcoming series. you and theo have been flirting with each other for months, but neither of you have made a move. you don't want to be just another girl for theo, and theo's to afraid to commit to a relationship with the most amazing girl in the world, afraid that he'll eventually break your heart. you get confronted at a party and an argument ensues.

TAGS Theodore Nott x reader, mean!theo, jealous!theo, theo is kind of a dick here, sorry babes 🤷‍♀️, mutual pining, parties, underage drinking, ginny is a good bro, ron is a good bro, reader is not gryffindor, angst

"I'm so chill, but you make me jealous," - So it Goes . . . by Taylor Swift

WORD COUNT 1.3K

WRITTEN 2023.09.13

You could feel Theo's eyes burning through your dress as soon as you entered the room, but you were sure to absolutely avoid any eye contact with him. Tonight's mission was simple: break him. You and Theo had an interesting little dynamic, that was for certain. You had spent months flirting with each other - smooth lines that had you blushing, "accidental" caresses that made Theo ache for more of you, almost-kisses that haunted both of your daydreams. Oh yes, the two of you were smitten for one another. There was just one small, tiny little problem. Theodore was spoiled rotten. He was so used to girl's plopping themselves in his lap and vying so desperately for his attention. He was so accustomed to this, in fact, that he went through girls like toilet paper. One week he's chatting up Romilda Vane in the corridors and the next week it's Tracey Davis, and so on and so on. You didn't want to be just another girl, you wanted to make him work for you. Still, that didn't mean you couldn't nudge him in the right direction.

You don't know what miracle Merlin had pulled in the afterlife, but he had somehow lsitened to your prayers and granted you the perfect opportunity to piss off Theo. The Gryffindors were holding a themed party where all the attenders must dress as someone from a different house. You, of course utlizied your connections and talked with your very dear friend Ginny. You had decided to borrow the letterman jacket she had gotten as a member of the Quidditch and, even better, had asked her to act a bit more friendly towards you than usual.

The music in Gryffindor Tower boomed so loudly that you practically feel the beat vibrating in your chest.You descended the stairs, dressed in a tight golden dress with the burgundy jacket swung over your shoulders, the word WEASLEY spelled prominently on the back of it. One arm was intertwined with Ginny's, the other raised so that your hand could fix up your hair. Ginny's arm was wrapped around your waist as she lead you down the stairs, and as soon as her friends looked up, they all let out a roar. Seamus and Ron came over, harking on about some drinking game ans begging the two of you to join. Ron would usually take the piss if he saw someone with Ginny, but you and her had informed him of what was really going on, so he wasn't in a mood at all.

"Come on, Dean's just told us about it, it's called Beer Pong," Seamus told the two of you, leading you to a table with plastic cups aligned in the shape of a triangle at each end. He handed you a ball and explained how it worked. "You and Ginny are on Harry and Ron's team, that's this end of the table, and me, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati are over here. Now, you're gonna throw this ball and try to get it into one of our cups. If the ball lands in the cup, someone from my team has to drink whatever's in thay cup. Whoever has no cups leftover in the end loses, yeah?"

You glanced towards Theo, standing in a dark corner with a few of his Slytherin friends. The drink he held in his hand was hovering near his face, his eyes dark as he watched your every movement, while his friends were having a lively chat. You grinned and turned back to the others, standing right in front of the edge of the table. Ron and Harry started to cheer for you, Ginny ran a hand down your side. You sent a small smile your way before tossing the ball down the tablez landing it right in the first cup. The other team groaned and Seamus downed the alcohol, tossing the cup to the side.

The game went on for quite some time - your team had won, but only just. Ron had drank most of the alcohol and was now flirting very obviously with Hermione, who seemed unsure of whether to continue studying or listen to him. As a new song came on, Ginny pulled on your hand, dragging you to the crowd of the dancing bodies.

"Come on!" She exclaimed over the loud music. "I promise, he'll be mad once he sees us dancing together!" She grabbed your arms and threw them around her neck, her hair swaying as she nodded her head to the beat. You danced with her, your faces so close to one another that you could feel yourselves sharing the hot breath that left your mouths. Ginny glanced at something behind you and said, "He hasn't done anything the entire night, he's just been standing there. I think he needs a little more motivation."

Something mischievous twinkled in Ginny's eyes - you narrowed your own at her. "Just what exactly are you thinking, Ginerva?"

Ginny scoffed, a wide grin forming on her face. "Did you seriously just call me by my full name?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. I don't like that look on your face."

Ginny rested her hands on your waist, swaying her hips in unison with yours, bringing her face close to you. "I promise if you kiss me, he'll do something about it." She rushedly added, "I won't do anything if you don't want to though, it was just an idea."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating the idea. Ginny wasn't necessarily wrong, it was a pretty good idea and would probably get some sort of rise out of Theo. You glanced back at her with assured eyes, asking, "Is he looking at us now?"

"Yeah, why -"

"Good," you responded, smashing your lips against Ginny's. It didn't feel like anything you've felt with anyone before - no butterflies blossoming in your stomach, no fuzziness growing in your head, just lips against lips. You pulled away suddenly, looking at Ginny with wide eyes. "Sorry!" You exclaimed, now thinking you should have asked her if it was okay before kissing her. But she wasn't looking at you.

You turned to look at what she was smirking at and found Theo marching over to you, drink in his hand discarded. You turned to look back at Ginny, but she had disappeared, leaving you alone to deal with the fallout. When you turned back, he was standing in front of you.

"I know what you're doing," Theo said, his breath erratic and not at all uniform. You smirked up at him, stepping closer so that your head was practically meeting his chest. Your fingers crawled up his arms and you watched his reaction.

"And what exactly am I doing, Theo?" He scoffed and glanced away. He said nothing, causing you to frown. You grabbed his chin with your hand, turning his head so that your eyes met again. "Come on, say it."

"You're trying to make me jealous!" He exclaimed angrily. "Waltzing around on her arm, kissing her, when we both know that you don't even like her like that."

"And why wouldn't I like her, Nott?"

"Because you're supposed to like me!" He huffed, his arms raised like a petulant child. "What, you're going to pretend as though you haven't spend months flirting with me?"

"Are you?" You returned with a raised eyebrow, taking a step forward. "Don't pretend as though you didn't have your tounge down Daphne Greengrass' throat only three days ago!"

"I don't care about her, I care about you!" He shouted back.

"Then prove it! And that's not an invitation for you to kiss me, that's me asking you to show me you really do care about me."

"Fine then! I will!"

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys #hp fanfcition #hp fanfic #hp

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highttowers · 10 months

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Hello i am requesting for Carmen from the Bear!! Something sweet and heart warming about Carmen being worried about the reader and just the whole kitchen seeing how in love he is ❤️ thank you

yes to heaven.

pairing(s); carmen “carmy” berzatto x gn!reader

fandom; the bear (fx on hulu)

w/c; 758 words

trigger/content warnings; brief sexual implications, brief mention of past injuries, language, richie (he’s a warning all by himself), tina n richie being mean to carmy lol, tina and reader chisme together, is this another fic with an ldr song title????, brief touches on carmy’s trauma (not in-depth cuz this is a fluff fic), not-proof read, lmk if i missed anything.

stella speaks! i need him biblically. at first, i was like “mmm, jeremy allen white” as a joke. but bro. i don’t think it’s a joke anymore…

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto who’s always watching you. Who has his eye on you, if you will ;)

Carmy, whose eyes are trailing your figure when you first meet. Not in a sexual way, just taking in every detail. The way you stand, the way you move your hands when you talk. Any time you wear a shirt more than once, the nervous tics you have while he tries your food, if you have any visible tattoos, freckles, or birthmark. His eyes snag on every little thing you do for a split second.

Carmy, whose gaze is locked in your hands while you demonstrate your abilities. He’s taking in every scar, every cut, every tear, every burn that was once fresh in the skin of your hands and committing it to memory. He doesn’t know why, he just is.

Carmy, whose eyes will flicker to your face every so often as you cook, lingering in the scrunch of your brow, the purse of your lip, the muttering under you breath, every curve and divet on your cheeks.

Carmy, whose brain short-circuits the first time he sees you in anything other than your lose white tee, black pants and blue apron. Logically, he knows your body has always been shaped that way, so why is heat crawling up his neck in the biting Chicago air?

Carmy, whose new favorite thing is watching you cook. Especially the recipes you know by heart, when every lovely movement your body makes is muscle memory. Seamless and smooth.

Carmy who appreciates the habit you have of cleaning your station as you cook. Those pale blue eyes locked in you as he exits his office, watching you dumping veggies in a crock pot before scooping up the cutting board, knife, and any food waste and making short work of it.

Carmy who is personally offended by Richie watching you cook. Richie and his Richie-esque comments making him roll his eyes, or warning a scoff. “Makes you wanna know what other moves they can do, eh?” “Shut the fuck up, cousin.”

Carmy, whose habit of paying microscopically close attention to you has whispers from Marcus to Tina to Sydney to you. He appreciates the way you wave them off, using the new kid excuse.

Carmy, who’s been reduced to a stuttering mess when you confront him privately about it. He’s spilling out excuses, until you quietly ask him if he wants to grab coffee with you sometime.

Carmy who, the more and more he arrives to work either with you or with a dumb smile on his face, is getting endless teasing from Richie and Tina. Sydney quietly smiles at him, but mainly sticks to talking about the nature of y’all’s relationship with you.

Carmy, who admittedly fears anytime you let sitting with Tina, exchanging words that have her yelling curses or exclamations in Spanish.

Carmy, who has a retort ready for Richie when he asks you if that means he has a chance now, only to clamp his mouth shut when you wordlessly flip Richie off, bringing another soft look into Carmy’s eyes and a dumb grin on his lips.

Carmy who has to kiss every scar, every mark, every little thing in your body when given the chance. It’s a love language, remembering and worshipping every little thing about you.

Carmy who has his eyes on you so much, regulars at The Beef are silently questioning if there’s anything going on. (there is, but Carmy would sooner be Richie’s personal chef than admit it to customers.)

Carmy whose new greates comfort is you. Any fleeting fragment of you. Maybe you washed his clothes once and now they smell like you. Maybe you hugged him so much your scent lingers in his nose. Maybe he’s got a small piece of jewelry from you or reminiscent of you. Anything that has to do with you can bring him out of the deepest panic.

Carmy who swears up and down and to the ends of the Earth that he’s never gonna lose you. It’s not even an option anymore. He would actually just fall to pieces on the floor.

Carmy who shows the uglier parts of him slowly. You actually have to peel back the first layer and stare it directly in the face without fear before he shows you more. He’s just so scared.

Carmy who’s so so grateful you don’t try to fix him. You just leave him as he is, just giving extra love to those broken bits.

Carmy who used to hate love songs before you arrived.

Carmy who was losing faith in the very idea of love until you arrived.

#how many ts/lana del rey references can spot???#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto headcanons #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #headcanon #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear on hulu #sydney adamu #🖋️ — my writing #🪁 — requests #🔪 — the bear

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wanderingxiao · 4 months

Note

hiii, its my first time asking hehe, i have a nsfw request tho i'm not sure if you're up for it (inspired by a conversation i had with my bestie when we're flirting as a joke)

basically, scara and y/n flirting and then says "are you ice cream? cause i’d lick you up till your done" and laugh about it thinking it'll make scara flustered, but he just smirks are y/n and says "Oh that was smooth. Although, I must admit... I have a feeling I would be the one doing all the licking." hehehehe

i hope you have a good day/night!

Filthy Flirt~

Scaramouche x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: Lewd flirting, Oral (Female receiving), male masturbation, cursing, overstimulation, Scara being slightly mean and suggestive~

A/N: Bro, how tf did this get away from me so fast oml 👀 I should be studying for my final tomorrow but here I am, indulging deeper into my love for Scara 😍💜 Thank you for the request! Hope it’s too your liking! <3

It was supposed to be a study date. Key words: supposed to. Of course, Scaramouche knew you couldn’t go one interaction with him without flirting playfully with him. It irritated him honestly. How dare you flirt so casually with him without making a move on him? Sure, you’d been best friends for years, but he had wanted more than that for a long time, and your constant flirting was beginning to get the better of him.

“Mm, are you ice cream, Scara? Cause I’d lick you up until you’re finished~” You teasingly cooed to him, putting your chin on your palm as you gazed at him mockingly. A smirk played on your lips when you saw his face flush lightly. Despite his embarrassed blush, he sneered and gave you a scoff, before he stopped and looked back at you. It startled you seeing him smirk so confidently.

“Hmm, smooth. Although, I must admit…” He leaned across the table, his smooth and warm hand coming to pull your shirt forward. His hot breath fanned over your ear, making your cheeks rise in color and your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment. “I would be the one doing all the licking, wouldn’t you say, (Y/N)?”

You pushed him away flustered, your face completely red. The sexual tension began to rise between the two of you. Your eyes darting all over the place while your face refused to get rid of the glowing blush. Scaramouche was beginning to get frustrated, his mind unable to focus on your project and instead imagining how lovely your voice would sound having him tongue fuck you into oblivion.

“Tsk, forget this stupid fucking assignment.” He slammed his laptop closed, shoving his and your things into his own bag quickly before he snatched up your hand and pulled you out of the booth at the cafe. You were too surprised to even process what was going on before he drug you by your wrist out to his car in the parking garage. “And fuck your stupid teasing. It’s so annoying my ears threaten to fall off every time you say one of those cheesy fucking pick-up lines.”

He yanked the back seat of his car open before he pushed you inside, throwing his things into the floor before he climbed on top of you. His fingers grabbed your face roughly, pulling you into a sloppy and heated kiss. It was no surprise to him how you kissed him back eagerly, it just proved to him that you wanted him to do this. It was all he needed before he began to tug on your skirt and panties, his tongue flicking and swirling over yours as he deepened your passionate kiss.

“A-Ahh, Scara-“ He suddenly clamped his hand over your mouth, his eyes glaring down into yours with a fiery pit of lust pooling from his gorgeous indigo eyes. “Shut up. All I want to hear, are your moans of pleasure from how well I tongue fuck you.” Your body shivered beneath him, nodding obediently at his demanding tone. He smirked, his hands pushing your knees apart eagerly. “Good girl.”

Scaramouche groaned at the sight of your glistening folds on display for him. So wet just from one suggestive little comment from him. “What a fucking whore, I love it.” He keeled down, his breath blowing over your pussy, eyes rolling back at the way your hole clenched around nothing in anticipation. With a sexy groan, Scaramouche flicked his tongue between your folds, the tip gliding up and down your entrance.

A moan tore through your throat, your legs trembling beside his head as you struggled not to close your legs on him. Your neglected clit pulsated under his teasing licks, your hips unconsciously bucking into his mouth for more. His hand came to smack your butt roughly, causing a surprised squeak to leave you as he looked up through his dark beautiful lashes.

“Don’t you dare. You’ll take what I give you. Be a good girl and stay still.” His voice was full of authority, his expression demanding you obey him. He was in complete control right now and there was nothing you could do. Best thing to do is just be a good girl and listen, or else he wouldn’t give you what you were desperately aching for. “M-mhm, I-I’m sorry…”

“So pathetic…” A dry chuckle resonated from his chest, his tongue going back to work against your drooling cunt. His nose came to lightly brush against your puffy clit, his tongue dipping back and forth against your entrance, teasing you cruelly. Your hands gripped against the headrests of his car seats, your teeth grit as you struggled not to move and stay still beneath him. It was proving much more difficult as his nose pushed harder against your clit.

“S-Scara! P-Please- ngh! -n-need more!” Another laugh came from below, his lips vibrating against your pussy. You shuddered in response, looking down between your legs to see him sitting there so comfortably and smug. “Look at you.” He scoffed lightly, bringing his fingers to trace up and down your slit before spreading your folds to see your gaping hole. “So weak and desperate. All at my fingertips. You look good like this. Maybe this will make you be quiet from now on and learn not to tease me, you filthy fucking flirt.”

“Ahh!” You gasped and cried out in bliss from his lips enclosing around your clit, his tongue flicking quickly against it while he occasionally sucked on it. Your back arched, moans picking up in volume, hands flailing and clawing at the headrests in overstimulating bliss. Before you knew it his fingers were knuckle deep inside, pumping quickly inside your pussy. Lewd squelching and sucking noises came from below you, overwhelming your senses and pushing you closer to the edge.

Scaramouche pushed his face further into your cunt, his tongue coming down to flatten against your hole and lick his way up to your clit before giving it a sloppy kiss with a smack of his lips. His back and neck began to ache from the little space in the car, but he didn’t care, your taste was absolutely divine. He didn’t want to stop. Not when the sound of your moans and the taste of your cunt sent him to cloud nine.

“Scara-! Hah! Mmgh! Wait, wait, wait!! Mmhh! I’m c-cumming! G-Gonna- ngh-! Cum! Scara! Scara!” Your beautiful voice grew desperate beneath the sinful touch of his tongue and fingers. Your lips chanted out his name like a mantra, only making the painful stiffness in Scaramouche’s pants more and more unbearable. His unoccupied hand slid down quickly to pull his cock out, quickly stroking it to relieve himself of his aching arousal.

His fingers pushed deeper to hit your sweet spot, his tongue curling over your throbbing clit to send you over the edge. You cried out his name loudly, your hands coming to entangle into his neat indigo hair, pushing his face harder into your cunt as you whined out his name again. He groaned lowly, the movements on his throbbing cock becoming all the more agonizing. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, getting off on your taste, your touch, and your sexy noises.

You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, your thighs coming to clamp around his head while your body twitched violently as an intense orgasm washed over your frame, creaming all over his face and his fingers. He quickly pulled his fingers out and pried your thighs off him with one hand before he slammed a hand beside your head, stroking his cock feverishly above your cunt as his climax approached rapidly.

“F-Fuck! (Y/N)! Ngh-!” He let out a few ragged breaths before cursing loudly with a moan following close behind, his cock twitching as he spurt cum all over your slippery cunt. Your juices mixed together, some even dripping against the car seats that slid off your glistened folds. Scaramouche felt light headed, his body burning with pleasure, his face sticky and wet with your fluids and his legs shaky from his intense orgasm. “Shit…” He breathed out. “That was… fucking amazing.”

You were too weak to reply, your legs falling limply beside him as you gazed up tiredly at him. “M-M’ sorry for teasing you… I-I just… like you… a lot.” With a weak smile you leaned up to peck his lips lightly. Your heart almost skipped a beat seeing his slightly flushed face and ghost of a smile. “Tsk, it’s about time you told me…filthy flirt.” He scoffed, turning his head away from you in attempt to hide his flustered expression. He brought his sleeve up to his mouth before he grabbed your skirt and panties and handed them to you embarrassed.

“Now hurry up and put these on. My apartment is 15 minutes away. I suggest you recover quickly, because I’m far from done with you.”

Thank you reading! Hope you enjoyed! 🥰💜

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