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zoros-bandana · 2 years

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hi, idk if u still do these but i have a kind of emergency request

so my job has been overworking me to the bone to where i hardly get any sleep, i’m working like every single day without a day off and getting like over 50 hours a week

i was wondering if you would write a Zoro imagine for it with him worrying ab reader and trying to tell her to slow down and stuff

i just really need it but feel free to ignore<3

Hi my honey I’m so sorry you feel like this. I’m sending you so much love right now and am so sorry to hear about the update. I really hope you get to find some time to rest soon or find some way to speak to your work about this issue as it isn’t healthy and you deserve to have some mental clarity and function. I know it seems like such an endless and painful time you’re in right now and I can’t possibly imagine the amount of stress and anguish that your work and personal life is in right now. But please know your life is more than this and you deserve to have peace and joy that isn’t focused on work; you deserve to have more than this. I love you and I hope you can find some help with this issue 💚

Overworked Reader x Zoro - Emergency Request

“Oi, you’re still here? I thought you finished?” Zoro’s voice made its way over to you, his body shielded from you gaze down at the work in front of you.

“Not yet, there’s still more I need to do”

“Like what exactly?”

“All this” you referred to the papers littered around you.

“That can wait, (Y/n), come to bed”

“I can’t!” You spat, frustration bubbling over. “I can’t do anything except this work, Zoro! I’m behind on everything and they’re counting on me pull my weight!”

“That’s not true at all. Can you just slow down for a while and come rest? You will feel a lot better in the morning. I promise you the world won’t end because you decided to look after yourself”

“I said I can’t, Zoro! No matter how much I do it never ends! I would love to come sleep with you right now but I can’t do that! Sleep is impossible and all I can think about is everything left to do! I can’t possibly slow down and rest when my mind won’t shut off! It’s ruining me but it won’t end until I finish it!”

“Hey” Zoro spun your chair around, kneeling in front of you. His large hands cupped at your face, making you look up at him; his eyes round and concerned. “You listen to me, alright? You need to slow down. That is not a suggestion anymore, baby. I’m worried about you. Everyone is. We haven’t seen you in days; you’re not around for meals. It isn’t healthy how you’re living right now and you are too important to be forgotten. You matter and so does your health. Find some time to rest with me, even if it’s for a few hours, and we will help you through this. Whatever we can do to ease your troubles I will make it happen. I will do that for you”

“I…”

“Don’t disagree with me; you know I’m right”

Zoro’s arms swooped you up into his chest, the muscles of his biceps keeping you close as he waited for your body to ease. He could feel the stress moulding your body, creating such a rigid frame he barely recognised you anymore. He knew you were past breaking point.

“We can find a way to balance all this out, yeah? Just you and me like always. I’m so proud of everything you have accomplished and I love you very much. I love that you’re so dedicated to this but it’s time to take a step back for a while. You can’t do this alone. I’ll make you some planners or organise your work. I’ll run you a bath and light candles. Heck, I’ll even get that shitty curly-brow to make you your favourite meals if that’s what you need. I’ll do anything you wish, just take a moment with me to breathe and think about this okay? You can’t work like this with such a clouded view of your work”

“You’ll be here?”

“I’ll always be here, baby, I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay and you’re no longer under all this extra weight. I'll make sure of it that you're safe and healthy again; you're always my top priority"

“I’ll always be by your side to help you”

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astrobei · 2 years

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Also any other fanfic writing tips? Do you have thoughts on chaptered fics vs longer one-shots? Do you ever struggle with characters feeling ooc?

I'm working my way up to finishing a couple WIPs and am very very nervous about posting them on ao3 😬😬

ooshdjsfh i think it’s funny when ppl ask me for writing advice bc i am a Mess but i will try my hardest to be helpful w this!

for the first bit, personally i’m a fan of oneshots, both writing and reading (there are exceptions for both ofc!!) just because i usually don’t have the attention span to write or read chaptered fics unless they’re finished and under 5 chapters ! but both of my chaptered fics are/were chaptered literally because i wrote too much to make it a oneshot without it feeling kind of clunky and awkward LOL i don’t usually write fics with big fleshed out plots anyway, and it’s more like a general storyline with a focus on individual scenes instead of the overarching plot, so i’ll write it all in one go! and i always write more than i think i will, so stories i plan to be like 10-15k ALWAYS end up at least 20k somehow 😭 personally i just rly appreciate when chaptered fics are consistent w uploading (as much as possible for the author) because it’s really hard for me to commit otherwise, which is why i don’t rly write them myself!!

and Oh My God anon,, i struggle CONSTANTLY w characters feelings ooc im always so concerned w my mike especially, since so much of s3 and 4 was more will pov and we didn’t get as much of an insight into mike’s internal struggles and thoughts like we did with will (the castle byers scene, van scene, jonathan talk, etc) so i’m always worried that the way i interpret him is not the same way that others might! and characters like lucas and dustin and max are easier since their povs in the show have stayed pretty consistent since their first appearances, and even will is easier for me to write (although i prefer mike which is pretty obvious maybe LOL) but mike Stresses Me Out a lot,, whew !!

if ur having trouble w that my advice (or at least what i do, take it w a grain of salt siskfjsjf) is think whether or not u could imagine this character saying that in the show. like, if this dialogue was added to a scene would it feel weird and out of place? do they usually use words like that? are there words used in the show specific to this character? (e.g: robin with “dingus”) i do take a lot of creative liberty w characters like mike and will especially when writing fluff fics, since so much of s4 and the end of s3 has been Sad and we haven’t gotten much humorous interaction from them, but i always try to ask myself if it’s true to their dynamic. like, mike would never ever pull off being suave and cool (except maybe in will’s unreliable narrator pov) because he gets flustered and is kind of an idiot and will is canonically a little bitchy and a little snarky and one of the only people who can put mike in his place so .

and thinking abt their motivations and Why they act/think the way they do: in byler’s case for example, will is selfless to a fault where he keeps putting other people before him, he’s so scared of his own needs making him selfish or a bad person that he often backpedals too far trying to amend that (s4!!) but he gets frustrated pretty easily (he’s the one that’s Started both of the infamous byler fights, the one that blows up first) and isn’t afraid to call mike out on things !! vs mike who tries really really hard, and has so much love for the people in his life but he’s inexperienced in it and doesn’t know how to show it in the way they want (saying ily to el, being a good friend to will) and a lot of his own inner monologue being fueled by the fear that the people in his life don’t need him anymore and yk . stuff like that . idk i just think abt these things a lot when i write!

anyways i am not qualified in the slightest to give any of this advice so FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS !! but anon if u ever end up publishing those wips (pls do) PLEASE don’t hesitate to drop me a link i’d love to check them out! posting fics can be rly scary but my advice would be to have as much fun with it as u can! play around w tropes and dialogue and writing styles and povs as much as u want. it can be easy to get caught up in writing what u think ppl want to read or thinking u Have to write smth bc someone asked for it but literally just write whatever u want (that’s like . not insane and awful for obvious reasons) and enjoy urself!!

hope this helped !! <3

#why r people asking me for advice #i’m a loser #a LOSER #IDK WHAT IM DOING #ask #fic

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world-of-aus · 2 years

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How do I tell my arab mom I don’t like her friend living with us?

So a little backstory: my mom and dad got divorced. My dad is working in the Central African Republic while me, my brother, and my mom are living in Quebec. My mom's friend arrived beginning of July to Canada and is waiting for his PR card to show up in the mail. They get into fights a lot and usually lasts for few days. This, I feel, affects my mental health because I recently got back from vacation with my dad and the same day I arrived I cried myself to sleep (I don't know why but I think it's because of their stupid fights). This most recent fight made him (my moms friend) book a ticket to lebanon. I cant tell you how happy I was that he was leaving. But however, the reconciled at the end and he cancelled his ticket. It happens a lot. I get angry really easily now because of their stupid fights. And I'm going to be starting university this fall and I don't need this kind of shit on top of university stress. How do I tell my mom I want him out of the house that my dad is working really hard in place he absolutely hates to provide for us the house, and monthly allowances. How do I tell her I am very uncomfortable with a man living with us when my dad doesn’t know about this while my dad is the one paying for the house? Her friend got a part time job at Amazon as a night shift worker and he only went one time this week. He is lazy. How do I tell her I don’t want him to live with us anymore? Side note: he has other friends in Canada so I won’t be like licking him out to the street. This guy is also a grown man in his late 30s. He needs to start depending on himself since he is in a new country and planning to stay here for a while since the situation in lebanon is so bad (which is why my family and I left). I want to tell my dad about him but that would be like throwing my mom under a bus and I don’t want to do that. I feel like the only way is for him to go live alone or with one of his other friends who he doesn’t have a fight with every 3-5 days. (Btw u can reply to this publically, I need all the help I can get hehe)

What I would personally do is sit mom down and have a one on one with her (make sure its just you and her no friend involved). Let her know how you're feeling, what you've been seeing (the fights), and how the environment has been since your mom's friend arrived at YOUR home. Make sure you let her know that you understand she's trying to help a friend, but try as she may to be there for that friend a line has to be drawn. There has to be a respect there, not only between your mom and her friend but her friend with all of you as a whole. He was invited into YOUR home, given a place to stay for free from what it sounds like and if you want to back up any points when you speak to mom tell her that.

If mom can't see your point or simply brushes you off then bring in dad. I know you might feel like your throwing mom under the bus, but dad is working in a place he doesn't like to provide for YOU, he is doing this for you, to give you a place of security, a place that should feel safe, comfortable.

Bringing in dad can be the last of your options though, but it will all depend on your talk with mom and how open you are with her about your emotions. Approach the situation carefully, let her know where your coming from and stick your ground in a calm demeanor. Advise her that you think it would be best for him (because of the fights) that he try and stay with someone else in the meantime till he gets the PR in the mail. Tell her it's what's going to be best for all of you. I can't imagine your mom likes fighting with a male who is supposed to be her friend every 3-5 days. It's tiring. It's toxic.

I do hope you and mom can sit down and that she will hear you out. You deserve to feel at peace and comfortable in your home sweetheart. You shouldn't have to come home from what I'm hoping was a nice vacation with dad to only cry yourself to sleep.

Your mental health is hurting right now and you need to do what's best for you, and that would be first and foremost talking to mom. I hope mom will hear you out and at the end of it all take your side before you have to go about bringing dad into this or at most that's what I would suggest.

If you need anything at all please don't hesitate to reach out to me! ❤️

#worldofausgets 💌

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snackleggg · 2 years

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Okay so I've seen au's where Merlin is born earlier and when he comes to Camelot Arthur is like a little kid but he still ends up being his manservant. Let's switch that around.

Hunith gets really sick and cant do any of the farm work anymore so she and her 7 year old son Merlin move to Camelot to live with her brother Gaius (who also happens to be a physician, and well informed on magic)

Then there is 19 year old prince Arthur, doing his thing, being a bit of a bully and this random 7 year old comes up to him. He tells him to stop, calls him a jerk and a prat and tries picking a fight. Arthur, humoring him, crouches down to be eye level with him and goes "oh yeah, and how are you going to do that?" And the little feral shit Merlin is just smirks and goes "like this" before kicking Arthur in the balls.

The guards cant even get the chance to "arrest" him because they are trying not to laugh their asses off at the pure comedy they just witnessed and a smug Merlin just slips back into the crowd. (Later when he gets back to Gaius' tower his mom asked what he was doing and just shrugs and goes "making friends")

Of course Merlin still saves Arthur's life but obviously Uther cant appoint a literal child to be his son's servant so he just gives him a honey cake as reward. So Merlin learns the valuable life lesson that saving Arthur's life = free sweets.

Doesnt even need to have Kilgharrah tell him prophecy shit (of course Kil still tries and when Merlin follows the voice he is hearing and discovers a huge dragon under the castle he is, of course, in awe. Tho when Kil starts talking about destiny and stuff Merlin gets bored, calls him an old man, and leaves. Though he still comes back and visits regularly, not for advice but because "the grouchy old dragon is lonely and who else am I gonna show all my drawings to make sure they are good before I show them to my mom and uncle???". Merlin always gossips about the latest attempt on Arthur's life with Kil)

Soon enough the castle staff and even knights and nobles just get used to this sassy and surprisingly kind feral child wandering the halls (and mostly following the prince around). Merlin does indeed sneak into council meetings, he is small and quiet enough where he can just slip in, sit in the corner, and no one notices.

The first time Merlin follows Arthur on a hunt everyone is high key stressed and worried but no matter how many times he is told to stay in the castle or who they tell to watch over him Merlin always somehow ends up just... with them on the hunt, the little gremlin.

Arthur once sees Merlin use magic to heal a bird and he is like "so THATS why this child is unnaturally impossible to get rid of and never even has a scratch on him after dangerous situations" but otherwise he tells no one and helps cover when Merlin's lack of subtly come into play.

Even as a child Merlin is still Arthur's best friend and closest advisor (bc kids are brutally honest and usually dont have prejudices yet)

Arthur still has a problem with his servants needing to switched out like every two weeks. When Merlin is finally 17 (Arthur king now and 29) he is like "I'll be your manservant since you obviously still cant take care of yourself" but Arthur is like "no no no, go read your magic books a bit more, u gonna be my court sorcerer in a few years"

Child!Merlin does not fear death, he will fist *cough*magic*cough* fight any bad guys behind the stables at dawn.

Like imagine u r the villain of the week and your on your way to go kill the king when all the torches in the hallway go out and at the end of the hallway you see this little kid giving you the dead eyed fish stare. But whatever you can just use your magic to knock them unconscious. But it doesnt work. You try again. The kid is still standing perfectly fine. Then he starts slowly walking towards you. And you are like nope, not some of this possesed kid horror movie bullshit, not today. Lol all these assassins getting traumatised by a 7 year old. Let this be a lesson, never come between a child and their sweets.

So many hijinks can come from this au

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin au #my au #my little cracky idea #merlin my beloved #so feral #so gremlin #so squishable cheeks

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renjuseyo · 3 years

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can you u do the scenario “you are hurting me” but now with the hip hop unit of seventeen please🥺🥺

seventeen reaction ; “you’re hurting me” (hip hop unit)

warning: angst

vocal unit reaction performance unit reaction i’ve finally finished this series! it wasn’t originally going to be one, but a lot of people seemed to like it, so here it is! this will probably be my last time writing reactions... i never realized how difficult it was to write them, much less for thirteen people. what was even harder was having to write scenarios for members i couldn’t imagine fitting the scenario, if that makes sense (e.g. joshua, dokyeom, vernon) :’) again, i am in no way trying to romanticize the reactions or events that happen in here. everyone will react differently if this were to happen to them; i am not trying to push a certain kind of “thinking” to my readers. this is purely fictional! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

seungcheol

seungcheol knows that as a leader and the oldest member, he’s expected to be stronger than the others. if he has his moments of weakness, under no circumstances should he show it to the cameras. while he does take pride in being his members’ pillar, there are times where the stress from being sad pillar gets so unbearable that even the smallest thing can push him over the edge.

when seungcheol’s stress is heightened, he takes everything personally. you can do anything, and he’ll somehow find a way to twist your words or actions into an argument. usually he always wants to be the peacemaker, because infighting within the group is never good for anyone. but when it comes to you, who encourages him to not filter his feelings, the stress from... everything, comes pouring out in the form of exasperated yelling and crude remarks. his anger is short-lived, but it’s never an unforgettable experience, nor is the outcome pretty. you cautiously approach him, hand ghosting his shoulder, when he sharply turns around and grabs your wrist to stop you. the action surprises you more than it hurts you, but your yelp stuns both of you. it’s only when he notices tears brimming the corner of your eyes, as well as his grip on your wrist, that all anger in him disappears.

it takes seungcheol a few seconds for him to register the destruction of his words. you’re trying not to cry, and you’re wriggling in his grasp, trying to free yourself. he releases his grip like hot iron in stunned silence, and he soon finds himself utterly horrified with everything he’s said. you don’t have time to say anything before apologies begin spilling out of his lips, and he too begins crying, angry because he failed to be the paragon of a boyfriend that everyone gushes about. he cautiously asks for permission to hug you, and if you accept, he’ll embrace you with no intention of letting you go, head buried in your shoulder as he lists more apologies.

after seeing the look of terror flash in your eyes, seungcheol vows to find a healthier alternative of coping with stress instead of lashing out on others. he never wants to see you look like that ever again, nor does he ever want to be the source of your tears. with your permission, he cuddles into you, whispering apologies and promises in your ear as you two are lulled to sleep, tired from the yelling and crying.

wonwoo

for the most part, wonwoo’s in control of his feelings. though he’s more sentimental than others, he never lets his emotions get the better of him. but there are rare times - once every blue moon, if you will - where these emotions do get to him. and when they do, he needs time for himself to recharge his battery. sure, he does enjoy the solitude being alone gives him, but during these times, he absolutely must be alone, unless you want to deal with a snappy wonwoo.

you and wonwoo settle your arguments maturely. you two rarely yell at each other, and your arguments are always calmly settled by talking it over tea, no matter the scale. but when his emotions get to him, when he feels drained, he isolates himself. while you understand his need for alone time, you disagree with leaving him alone when he’s not in a good mindset. your different views spark an argument between you two; wonwoo just wants to be alone, so why don’t you understand that? on the other hand, you just want to make sure he isn’t doing anything to harm himself, so why doesn’t he understand that? you two are yelling at each other like you’ve never before, and from the looks of things, neither of you doubt this can be calmly settled over tea like usual. at some point, he tiredly tells you to back off and stop being so clingy. because unlike you, some people need time for themselves, too.

there’s a deafening silence. wonwoo doesn’t realize how badly he’s hurt you until you hastily grab your jacket and phone before walking out and slamming the door shut. thousands of alarms ring in his head as he recalls his words. neither of you were right in this situation, but right now isn’t the time to determine logicality. he grabs his belongings and quickly dashes after you. after he catches you by the bus stop, he stops you from boarding the bus, struggling to even your breathing and stopping your tears. because neither of you are quite ready for confrontation, he simply apologizes and tells you to get home safe and to stay warm.

wonwoo spends the night reflecting on his actions and realizes this can only be properly resolved if you two met up face-to-face. but he gives you the space you need, occasionally sending you reminders to stay hydrated and to stay warm. a few days later, you two eventually meet at your apartment, and like always, decide to talk about the problem over tea. you both begin apologizing at the same time, him for hurting you and you for not understanding his needs. overall, he would be sincerely apologetic about the whole ordeal and show it through verbal affirmations.

mingyu

despite being somewhat of a coward, mingyu loves challenges and never backs down from them (unless they involve heights. you’ll never hear from him again). that, paired with his honesty, can sometimes make a recipe calling for disaster. sure, honesty is the best policy, but sometimes his bluntness and competitive nature can lead to all sorts of arguments between you two.

mingyu likes to rile you up. it’s all in good fun, of course, save for the times where he has more suggestive intentions. but sometimes when you’re having a bad day, his teasing riles you up, though not in the way either of you would like. usually his remarks are met with equally snarky comebacks, but now all you feel is insecurity. when you retaliate with an irritated comment, he takes it as a signal to keep up your usual, petty bantering. it deescalates quickly, and because he still hasn’t noticed your bad mood, he gets defensive, and an argument sparks between you two. there’s yelling and sarcastic, snide remarks exchanged on both ends, but he’s too determined to come out on top to notice the way your shaking intensifies at each comment. when he sees how pissed you look, he laughs, taunting your short temper. fed up, you retaliate by sarcastically congratulating him for winning this dumb competition of an argument. it’s then he snaps out of his trance and realizes the consequences of his words.

“congratulations, you’ve made me cry. you win! are you happy now?” you flatly ask, though both of you catch the quiver in your voice. instead of satisfaction like he normally feels after beating you at your own game, all mingyu feels is deep guilt. his anger and competitiveness vanishes, and he’s left feeling like a kicked puppy. he approaches you with the most dejected look and carefully wraps his arms around you before pulling you into a hug, whispering apologies in your ear. you’re too tired from crying and yelling to push him away, so you let your head fall onto his chest.

after that incident, mingyu would feel incredibly guilty for letting his competitiveness get the better of him. in hopes of showing how sorry he is, he sends you several gifts and several comforting short messages of i love you’s and i’m sorry’s, paired with several heart emojis. all in all, he goes above and beyond to show how guilty he feels. even if he may come off as superficial, he hopes you’ll understand how sincere he is.

vernon

similar to joshua and dokyeom, i can’t see vernon as the type of person that would ever make you explicitly tell him he’s hurting you. even the members of seventeen have stated that he rarely gets angry, considering how he has a laid-back and a go-with-the-flow personality. if you were to ever say he’s hurting you, it would probably be said in the heat of a moment, more out of frustration, not sadness or fear.

despite being blunt, vernon is a difficult person to read. it’s no wonder, considering how he always sports a nonchalant look. the only way anyone could know what he was thinking was if he outwardly stated it. while this does lessen the number of arguments you two have, his personality can also be frustrating for you, especially when you need him to be decisive and state what he wants, not what others want. arguing with him is like arguing with a brick wall; you’ll be scolding him for his indecisiveness, and all he’ll do is take it, occasionally nodding at your words. it frustrates you to no end, and you’re flabbergasted at how he’s still so nonchalant, not reacting to a single thing you say. “i can’t do this. you’re hurting me here,” you groan, running a hand through your hair.

thinking you’re angry, vernon will jump out of his seat and approach you, rubbing apologetic, consoling circles on your arms. he only does this when you’re upset, attempting to calm you down. and you are upset, because you just want him to cooperate with you, but seeing the look in his eyes causes your frustration to fade away. both of you know it’ll eventually come back, but frankly, you’re too tired from yelling at a brick wall (read: vernon) to do anything about it right now. he apologizes for causing you so much frustration, and seeing how sincere he is, you decide to put off interrogating him. it’s not like he enjoys being indecisive, either. he just doesn’t know how to pick sides.

overall, i don’t see vernon as the type to get into arguments so intense that it ends up with you in tears. there’s no reason to get into extreme arguments, not when he’s so straightforward about his feelings. he would feel guilty for making you so frustrated and probably try to show how apologetic he is by giving you soothing rubs and hugs.

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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ahem here is a self indulgent domestic nanami x reader fanfiction that i also posted on ao3. u can tell i wrote it bc i looked at nanami and said ‘that’s a man that wears sock garters and that’s very sexy of him’

routine // 3k words // nanami x reader warnings: afab reader, fem pronoun, domestic stuff, nsfw, fingering, creampie, idk pals i’m just thirsty

You don’t mind the mundane.

No, that’s not quite it. It’s not that you don’t mind the mundane – you do, when it becomes sticky and muddled and drags on and on and on. You’ve been trapped in an endless cycle like that before; allowing life to happen to you, as trade-off for simplicity. Planning things that didn’t materialise. You hadn’t realised that’s what you were doing, at the time – but looking back on it now, it’s clear as day, because it was exactly what had been happening to him.

Your life is not mundane. Your life is . . . routine.

Yes, that’s right. You stick to a schedule. You keep time. You plan things – and it’s not mundane, not any more, because this time as you stick to your routine, Nanami is right there beside you.

It’s domestic. Comfortable. Oh, you worry about him – he comes home enough times with scrapes and bruises he didn’t have before and tells you about his day, world-weary – but you also know he’s more than strong enough to withstand. You curl up next to him whilst he reads a book, or whilst you watch television. You cook for him on the few days off that he snatches for himself (though he often wraps himself around you whilst you do cook, directing you or helping. He’s a better cook than you, but you have more time than him). You drape yourself over the back of his armchair sometimes and work on the knots in his neck.

“You get too stressed,” you tell him. His lips quirk into a brief curve of a smile before they return to their usual position.

“Maybe,” he says. “But you help me with that.”

For all of the unusual things in your lives, your existence is uncomplicated. You watch weight roll off of him when he comes in through the front door and is once more safely ensconced in a little slice of home. You and he share the household duties; he’s meticulous and careful, and you admire him sometimes when you think he’s not watching for being so . . . balanced, you suppose.

(“That’s you, too,” he tells you. He shrugs. “Everyone else . . . they’re living absolute chaos. But I get to come back after I clock off, to you, and . . . this.” He gestures to the little home. It’s nothing special. It’s neat and tidy and small and the two of you have reasonable savings in the bank. Responsible. You think he keeps you balanced, too.)

But . . .

Well. He’s not always so in-control.

He hadn’t sounded harried when he’d called you. He doesn’t often; instead, his voice had been calm. You know Nanami well enough to know when there’s frustration bubbling under the surface, but his tone had been smooth.

“I’ll be home late,” he’d said. “Don’t wait up.”

“Overtime?” You’d asked, already looking at the pot boiling on the stove and wondering if it could be salvaged for tomorrow’s dinner. Nanami had paused, and then sighed.

“Mm.”

You don’t let yourself worry too much. Nanami handles whatever is thrown at him – he’s always in control, poised. . . The most you see him frustrated is from calls from Gojo in the middle of the night.

You put your own phone away. There’s no use in concern yet, you tell yourself.

You don’t start to worry until you crawl into bed without having heard from him. This is late, even for him. You try not to let your anxiety eat away at you as you close your eyes and lay your head on the pillow, but the scent of him permeates every part of your bedroom. One of his shirts hangs loosely on the back of the wardrobe door. The drawer on his side of the bed that contains a collection of novelty ties (bought by you, because you’d thought they were funny – and Nanami had smiled at the first one, and laughed at the second, so you just hadn’t stopped) is still half-open from him rifling through it this morning.

The click of a key in the front door makes you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. The sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards, a familiar, steady cadence, makes you let go of sheets you hadn’t realised you were clutching.

Nanami’s head rounds the door.

“You’re late,” you tell him.

“I am,” he affirms. He steps into the room proper and you see that his shirt-sleeves are rolled up, and there’s a splash of blood on his left shoulder. He probably was in more bother than he let on, then. You don’t think it’s his blood, at least. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

You sag. You know it’s part and parcel of what he does – and so, you move in the bed from where you’ve unconsciously pressed yourself into his side to breathe in the familiar scent of him. You know Nanami doesn’t miss you’ve done it – he comes to sit on the edge of the bed as he meticulously undoes his tie.

He reaches over to you and cups your cheek in his hand, his fingers warm and calloused.

“How about I make it up to you?” He asks, and you sigh as he breaches the gap and kisses you. Everything about his kiss is familiar and comforting – you’re pressing back against him before you even think about it, hand coming to tangle in the neatly combed hair. He tastes like coffee, and it makes your eyes open against the kiss and check the time. It’s late. Nanami generally prefers to be sleeping by now. You'd once laughed and told him he was boring, and he'd raised his eyebrows and smiled as he'd told you that sleep was important. After spending the night wrapped around him, your head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart - you'd been inclined to agree.

“Aren’t you tired?” You murmur, breaking the kiss yourself. Nanami quirks an eyebrow at you. The hand still on your face brushes across your cheekbone tenderly. You don’t think anyone who works with Nanami imagines him like this – messy-haired, half-undressed, his stoic composure gone to softness. Every time he even half-smiles, your heart feels like it will ricochet out of his rib-cage, but when he looks at you now you get the full thing.

“Too tired for you? Never.” He shifts on the bed, shrugging off his suspenders along with the stained shirt. He’ll do that laundry himself – he always does, when it’s bloodstains. “Besides,” he breathes as his hands move to stroke over your shoulders, his breath tickling the junction where your neck and collarbone meet and making you shiver. “I still have plenty of energy to work off before I can get to sleep peacefully.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I’d hate to be the reason you don’t get a fulfilling night’s rest—”

The bed covers are swept off of you. When Nanami has made up his mind to do something, he does it – and right now, it appears what he’s made up his mind to do is you. His hands are big on your hips, sliding up the loose shirt of your pyjamas. You let out a soft huff of breath as he pushes them up over your breasts that makes him lean in and kiss your neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive flesh. Your fingers flex on his shoulders as he cages you underneath him.

“Oh,” he promises against the skin. “When we’re done, I’ll rest very easy.”

You lose the shirt just as quickly as Nanami lost his, and then you both stop talking. Nanami is the kind of man who doesn’t use a hundred words when one or two will do – he’s happy to have conversations, when conversation is the name of the game . . . but conversation is not the name of the game when his mouth is busy kissing your neck, your throat, your collarbone . . . When his lips are wrapping around your nipple and teasing it to a hardened point until you moan aloud.

In the pit of your stomach is heat and fire and need. When Nanami moves against you and your thighs press together, you can already feel that you’re slick and warm with the promise of what is still to come – and when Nanami, too, moves, you can tell that he’s looking forward to things just as much as you are.

His thumbs hook into the shorts of the nightwear set you were wearing. The fear of less than an hour ago seems to have dissipated in the wind – it’s hard to remember how worried you were when Nanami comes home fired up like this. He drags the fabric down your thighs, tsk-ing at how they catch.

“A nightgown or shirt would be more efficient,” he tells you. “You’re welcome to one of mine.”

Your cheeks heat up at the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts, and Nanami doesn’t miss how your skin warms underneath him. You’re so cute. He kisses you again so he doesn’t embarrass himself, this time peeling off your underwear (the thin cotton clings to your damp sex and your breath hitches at how it feels, peeling away).

“Are you going to tell me it’d be more efficient if I weren’t wearing them?” You say, your voice coming out low and husky.

“I’d be right if I did,” he tells you, but he’s far more preoccupied with the button and zip of his trousers. You reach over to help him with it, your hand brushing the hot, hard length of him through the fabric – you always forget just how big he is until you’re confronted once more. Your body gives a low throb of arousal, a reminder that the need inside of you requires sating sooner rather than later.

Nanami is patient. You are not.

There. The zip, the button – and Nanami is pulling off the fabric, leaving it too in a pool by the side of the bed that you know he will probably manage to get into the wash basket before it ever crosses your mind. He’s still wearing socks and sock garters, and whilst normally you’d laugh at him and make him take them off before he got into bed . . .

Well. There are more important things to think about right now, and you can’t deny that the sock garters are endearing.

His cock brushes against your thigh and you start, a soft noise escaping your lips that makes him look down at you tenderly. He tips his head to the side in a silent question and you nod in a silent answer – his fingers push your thighs further apart, sinking into plush flesh, stroking along the slick outer lips of your sex--

His knuckle brushes the swollen bundle of nerves of your clit and you sigh, your hips bucking up for more of the friction. You know that this is just him being kind – a precursor to the main event – but you still can’t help but greedily seek out more and more of him. He clicks his tongue again.

“You’re so impatient sometimes,” he chides, though his cock hard and hot against your skin is just as impatient as you are. He slides one of his fingers inside you, your walls clinging tight to the digit. He pumps it in and out of you, once, twice – and then, a second finger is inside you, stretching you out. One of your hands twists into the sheets as you helplessly let him fuck into you with his fingers. You know that he’s doing it in preparation for fucking you – he often does – but it doesn’t mean that you’re any less impatient for the main event.

“You’re teasing me,” you tell him, breathlessly. He smiles, more to himself than to you.

“I suppose so,” he replies. He’s enjoying it. You know he is – tension is draining from his shoulders the more he looks at you, the fingers still plunging in and out of you growing more lax and liquid in their movements. The sound of him inside you is lasciviously loud in your bedroom. You don’t mind helping him work out his tension – whether with cuddling up to him, or cooking together, or massaging the knots from his back – but you do mind when he teases you--

“Please,” you say, breathlessly, your hips rocking in time with his hand. He can never resist it when you’re polite.

His fingers come out of you with an audible slick noise.

“You’re ready, anyway,” he murmurs. He absent-mindedly places the two fingers that were buried inside you against his tongue, tasting you – your cheeks are hot again at the way he tips his head back, savouring the taste of you. Just another little moment of intimacy. It’s not unusual, but that doesn’t make it feel any less erotic.

He cradles you like you’re something precious as he settles heavy between your thighs. His hands on your hips are certain. There’s a warmth about Nanami that few people are privileged enough to see – one you’re privileged enough to see every night and every morning, when he wakes up next to you sleep-tousled or comes in and leaves a warm package from your favourite bakery in front of you that he picked up on his way home.

You breath through the initial sting as he stretches you out on him, and then there is nothing but the pleasure of being filled. You feel yourself mould to his cock inside you, your walls snugly accepting him, hot and wet around his shaft. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and as he bottoms out inside of you, for a moment you two are joined entirely. You can feel his heart beating against yours.

“I love you,” you breathe, against the shell of his ear. He kisses at your neck in return, his voice very soft as he returns the affirmation of one of his own. He is not one for sappy declarations – he is a man of small acts of service. Still. He speaks it against your skin and it feels like a tattoo on your heart.

“I love you too.”

After that, neither of you speak. Instead, you concentrate on Nanami’s powerful hips as they roll against you, his cock brushing the sensitive spots of your wall, stoking the flame inside of you that’s been steadily burning since the moment he untied his tie. You concentrate on moving your own body in tandem with his, the squeeze of your channel around him, the way that he grinds himself just so against your clit with every thrust so that your body feels fizzing with unreleased promise.

His mouth against your collarbones and neck. Your nails digging into his shoulders. He’s well-built despite seeming nondescript in his suit and tie – you’re heart-achingly familiar with the taut muscle making up his arms and backs. The places he’s scarred, even after being healed up.

You can hear him breathing heavier and heavier against your ear as his peak nears. Your own is rushing up on you, as Nanami’s hips begin to rock quicker and quicker, his cock plunging impossibly deep into you with every drive. You think, for a wild moment, he’s going to come first, despite the fact he’s always been nothing but the gentleman in control of himself no matter how many times the two of you become one--

And then, the hot ball of fire in the pit of your stomach becomes overwhelming and bursts into pieces, wet heat soaking you, waves of pleasure lapping at you as your body shakes and constricts around him. Everything is so hot. His body above yours is burning, warm, needful--

Your nails have dug into his skin hard enough to leave crescent shaped marks, but Nanami is chasing his own release now, his eyes clouded with lust as he looks down at you. Aftershocks of your own orgasm make your channel pulsate around him--

You’re tender as you pull him down by the neck and kiss him, teeth worrying at his bottom lip – and he groans into your mouth at the same time as you feel his cock inside you twitch, and the heat of his come fill you. That’s not a problem. You’ve talked about that plenty of times – both of you agree that you’re happy the way you are. Children are dangerous.

. . . But it’s nice to feel claimed by him. Nice to have him rest hot and heavy inside you, like a marker of his affection even as he’s pulling out of you and leaving you full and heavy and sticky. He smooths kisses onto your brow. He doesn’t murmur sweet words against you, but you know he’s thinking them if only from the way he holds you and the way that his hands dance over your skin like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

(You are; and he is to you, though neither of you say it aloud. In the sanctity of the quiet bedroom, though, both of you know it as an absolute fact.)

He’s breathing heavy as he sits on the edge of the bed again, reaching down to undo his sock garters and remove the socks themselves. The tell-tale rustle of clothing and slam of the drawers on his side of the bed tell you he’s neatly folding the dirtied garments and getting out something to wear in bed himself.

“Are you tired now?” You ask him. Nanami turns his head to look at you, and you can see the tell-tale sign of shadows under his eyes.

“Yes,” he says. You laugh, and the sound seems like pealing bells to him. You wrap an arm about his waist and pull him against the bedsheets, curling a leg over his, wrapping yourself around him in an embrace that he at first resists before leaning into.

“It’s easier if you don’t get dressed.” You mumble against his neck, as you nestle yourself into the crook of his shoulders. Nanami uses one arm to pull up the bed covers he stripped from you earlier. “More . . .” You stifle your own yawn. “More efficient, if we decide to waste time in the morning.”

The covers wrap around both of you, the wrinkled clothes forgotten (Nanami will tut at himself in the morning, but for now, he’s enjoying your body so close to his).

“Time with you,” he says softly, “is never wasted time.”

#writing #not jojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #not sfw #i am not a multi fandom blog.... YET!!!!#jjk posting #jjk writing tag

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wannabegwenstacy · 3 years

Text

Eden's Favorite Fic's (BTS Fic Recs)

Updated Version: Here!

Note: In the past I haven't indulged in tumblr fics often but I recently (past 3 months) have been reading quite regularly & am planning on branching out a bit. To keep track of the ones that I have enjoyed & the ones that I have even came back to I'm making this list. Again, I haven't been digging into the tumblr fics world for long so for right now its a very short list. I'm hoping with time I can get more fics of different types on here (btsxbts, some gender neutral xreader ones, & more ones that I genuinely like)

About me to understand what's going to be on here:

Age: 21 (99' liner)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: She/Her

Ult Bias: Yoongi

Trio: Rap Line

I am OT7. I do enjoy smut but don't think it is necessary to FF. Overall I just want a well-crafted plot that makes sense. I read for entertainment & to escape. But I still need some form of realism (just me personally) to follow the trail of events. PSA: I'm trying to find a broader scope of writers I like but for right now I don't have many. There are gonna be some repetitive writers for now.

______________________________________________________________

Kim Namjoon:

- Librarian Namjoon Universe by @jungshookz

Beauty & the Bookworm (I love this concept SO MUCH)

Pairing: Cute, Good Boy, Nerdy, University Librarian Namjoon x Bratty, Semi-Popular, Procrastinator, University Student Reader

Word count: 20.8k

Summary: You're a procrastinator big time and you may or may not be failing. To get some extra credit you begrudgingly take the library assistant opening where you work under strict dorky Namjoon. Passive aggressiveness, cuteness, fluff, & some smuttiness arises.

Jealous-Boyfriend-Librarian Namjoon (Drabble)

Pairing: Jealous Boyfriend Librarian Namjoon x Oblivious Cute Girlfriend Uni Student Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: You take an Art History Course and end up needing a tutor. Joon offers to tutor you but he doesn't know shit about Art History so you end up getting tutored by an ArtHoe Taehyung that may or may not like you but you are oblivious to this and Joon gets super jealous.

Kim Seokjin:

- Hockey Player Jin by @ve1vetyoongi

HEART OF GOLD (BLADES OF ICE)

Pairing: Sweet Hot New Hockey Player in Town Jin x Ex-Figure Skater (who has a history with jin) Reader

Word count: 20k

Summary: After a fall during figure skating practice dashes your dreams of competing at nationals, you vow to hang up your skates for good. That is until you cross paths with Kim Seokjin, captain of the ice hockey team, who is determined to get you back out on the rink and melt the ice in your heart. (Jimin is a bully in this and their other k-pop idols as characters. Very Very Fluffy and Hallmark Christmas Movie-ish so be aware of that. Overall, it's just cute :) )

Min Yoongi:

Note: these are all but one by the same writer @jungshookz & are written from the pov of a female reader. I'm gonna try to find some gender-neutral fics but for now, if you are female-identifying I really enjoyed these! :)

- Mechanic Yoongi Universe by @jungshookz

Baby, You Can Drive My Car (My favorite AU Fics I've read so far on Tumblr!!)

Pairing: Tatted, Mic Drop Era, Mechanic Min Yoongi x Spoiled Rich, Inexperienced, University Student Reader

Word count: 24.6k

Summary: Welcome to Min Mechanics - What can I do for you today, doll?

Maybe She Can Drive His Car

Pairing: Oblivious, Hot, Boyfriend, Mechanic Min Yoongi x Adorable, Spoiled, University Student, Jealous Girlfriend Reader

Word count: 11.6k

Summary: Yoongi's ex is back in town for a visit and you would be lying if you said you weren't slightly envious of a) how knowledgeable she is about stupid cars and b) how well she gets along with literally everyone.

- Uni Yoongi x Nerdy Reader (mini series) by @jungshookz

Note: these are all drabbles I'm gonna link my favorites in the series. I'll probably add more later.

Cocky Uni Student Yoongi x Nerdy Reader:

^^This is the start of the mini-series, recommend you read it first!^^

The One with the Scrunchie:

Contains: smut, a super cute scrunchie turning into a kink of sorts, slightly insecure Yoongi, experienced Yoongi, slightly inexperienced reader, shy about their own body reader.

Yoongi always had an Overactive Imagination:

Contains: talking about sex, implied smut, reader trying to be productive while also being horny, Yoongi being super distracted and horny.

"I'm gonna need you to shut up now please"

- CEO Yoongi Universe by @jungshookz

Suit&Tie (First Fic in the series)

Pairing: CEO Min Yoongi x Secretary Reader

Wordcount: 21k+

Summary: Young Intimidating Hot CEO Yoongi, Clumsy Secretary Y/N who loves Sugar, Best Friend Jimin. Funny Awkward Meeting that sets up the whole plot, was like reading a Kdrama in book form.

The One Where Augst D makes a Comeback (Favorite Fic in the series)

SPOILERS READ PRIOR DRABBLES TO CATCH UP!! (I recommend The First Date, The One Where Yoongi is Just a Little Jealous, The Proposal, The Wedding, Baby Makes Three, Baby Min's Timeline, The Birth of Baby Min, Daddy's Little Girl, Who the Hell is Augst D.

Pairing: CEO Min Yoongi x Secretary Reader

Word count: 6.5k

Summary: Yoongi finds out you faked an orgasm and he's going to gi-give it to you more ways than one.

- Demon Yoongi by @jungshookz

Hellish (I got some feelings for incubus Yoongi not gonna lie)

Pairing: Bratty, Super Sexy, Sex Demon, Mint Min Yoongi x University Student, Non-Supernatural Believer Reader

Word count: 22.1k

Summary: Jungkook is your clueless, energetic best friend. Wonho is a character in this fic, You are dragged into summoning a demon one night by your overly excited to be summoning a demon? best friend Jungkook. Spooky but Kind of Sexy Shit Happens! (This is probably my second favorite Yoongi Fic I've read!)

- Basketball Captain Yoongi by @jungshookz

Basketball Captain Yoongi

Pairing: Cocky, Popular, Charming Captain of the Basketball Team Min Yoongi x Water girl University Student Reader (who has been crushing on Yoongi hard for some time)

Word count: 18.4k

Summary: Jungkook is your athletic bro of a best friend that signs you up to be his replacement as the water boy (girl in this case) after he makes the team. You have had a pathetic schoolgirl crush on Yoongi for a while and is basically the only reason you agreed to be the water girl aside from spending time with Jungkook. It's fluffy & smutty!

- Android Yoongi @jungshookz

Technologically in love (..I cried! but I also smiled a lot so you know this is well written)

Pairing: Personal Assistant Prototype but SUPER Lifelike Android Min Yoongi x Messy, Junkfood, & Cartoons Loving Reader (basically your early 20s living alone kind of vibe)

Word count: 24k+

Summary: You live in a Detroit Becoming Human type universe but prior to a lot of the advancements. Androids are already a thing but not to the level the M1N Y00NG1 is yet. You are best friends with all the boys and they happen to be engineers which is how you ended up with Yoongi in the first place. Namjoon created Yoongi as a personal assistant prototype android & you are told to live with him. Things get fluffy, SUPER ANGSTY, and super smutty!

- Listen Closely by @avveh

Listen Closely ( sexiest Yoongi fic I have read so far, I kept wanting to go back and read again)

Pairing: Tsundere Office Worker Min Yoongi x Hardworking Office Worker Reader

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: Unintentionally, you stumble upon something that makes you view your coworker Min Yoongi in a whole new light. (SMUT 18+: Masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breathplay, spanking, degrading names.)

Jung Hoseok:

- Secret Boyfriend Hoseok by @kpopfanfictrash

Keeping a Secret (this took me places...Idk about you but I have trouble finding really good Hoseok fics and this one was perfect. One of my favorite fics on this website)

Pairing: New Relationship Dom Hoseok x New Relationship Tease Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Hoseok have been hooking up for a few weeks now. No one in your friend group knows. What happens then, when he shows up at movie night looking better than anticipated? SMUT!

- Studio Sex Hoseok by @joonbird

Studio:

Pairing: Boyfriend BTS Hoseok x Girlfriend Reader

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Hoseok is stressed about his upcoming mixtape, so you decide to swing by his studio and help him relax. (Hobi being the beautiful glorious sexy man he is and putting those ungodly hips to use!)

Park Jimin:

- Jimin and His Pregnancy Kink by @boymeetsweevil

ME, YOU, AND THIS THING WE HAVE BETWEEN US (NSFW)

Pairing: Sweet Caring Domestic but Horny Jimin x Pregnant Hormonal Reader

Word count:~3.7k

Warnings (aka what to prepare for): everything is graphic and gross lmao, blowjobs (face f*cking), boob job (not the one w/ silicon inserts), cunnilingus, dom!jimin if u squint, cumplay if u squint again, dirty talk/degrading language, penetrative sex (doggy style), unprotected sex, PREGNANCY KINK that’s a big one

Summary: You’re pregnant and Jimin is…happy about it (If I remember correctly this one is 25% cute domestic Jimin trying to calm his hormonal pregnant partner and 75% pure filth aka Jimin having a pregnancy kink and trying to hide it but not well at all. This is however my ultimate fav Jimin smut I have ever read!)

- Crush/Neighbor Jimin by @sketchguk

Lover to Lean On: (I absolutely adore this fic. Overall it's just really well written and I felt like I was watching a show in my head rather than reading a short Tumblr fic. Highly recommend it!)

Pairing: Cute Customer & Neighbor Jimin x Florist Reader

Word Count: 19.9k

Summary: For months, you can hear your no-face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. Above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. You’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course, you’re bitterly single. But one day, the apartment is radio silent. And one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. So on Valentine’s Day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other.

Kim Taehyung:

-Roommate Taehyung Universe by @jungshookz

Stuck with You

Pairing: Frat Bro bit of an asshole Roommate Kim Taehyung x Clean Organized bit of a Pushover Reader

Word count: 37k

Summary: Kim Taehyung becoming your new roommate is definitely up there on the list of the worst things to ever happen to you. Librarian Namjoon is your Best friend and ex-roommate. Frat bro Jeon Jungkook makes an appearance. There is so smut and implied smut.

The One with the One Year Anniversary (Drabble)

Pairing: The cutest domestic boyfriend Kim Taehyung x girlfriend reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: NO SPOILERS! so I'm going to give you a quote: "well, um, look! I made breakfast for you. f-for us!" Also, SFW

Jeon Jungkook:

- Gamer Jungkook by @softyoongiionly

PRESS START (this is the cutest fucking smut type fic I have ever read! it is so pure and is the exact type of relationship I want! IT MADE ME SIMP SO HARD!) gender-neutral I believe!

Pairing: Night owl Gamer Domestic Boyfriend Jeon Jungkook x Witty Domestic Cutesy Relationship Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: A night in with your boyfriend Jungkook includes all kinds of things: anime, witty banter, snacks from 7-Eleven and, you know, sex. (GREAT READ!! I AM A SIMP FOR THIS FIC!!)

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san-fics · 2 years

Text

COZplay

Felinette

Ao3

[Authors note: This story is called is gonna be an emotional ride, so make sure you went through tags on Ao3 before reading it - fluff, angst and smut in a crazy mix, but I will mark the smut-chapter with 18+ sign, so if you want avoid reading it you can, it won't give too big impact on the plot of the story, but I want to warn you that the straightforward moments are woven into the main plot as well, so I suggest you read it if you are ready to at list Teen And Up-Audiences rating for hot 18+ marked parts]

Part 2

Coz: so, where do i enter?

Marinette: oh

Marinette: right!)

Marinette: u see, i’m so distracted all the time!

Marinette: anyway

Marinette: we want them to speak in verse when they meet on their secret dates

Coz: i see

Coz: is there an approximate content of their dialogues?

Marinette: very approximate…

Coz: so more like free writing

Coz: which doesn’t have to be a bad thing

Coz: maybe something like

Coz: Your blue eyes are beautiful even at night

Coz: I’m scared that it turns out that I am not right

Coz: That I am not worthy of kissing your lips

Coz: This moment will suddenly end in an eclipse

Marinette: wow

Marinette: did u just write this?

Coz: it came to my mind when i imagined this couple on a secret date

Coz: this is a very rough sketch, but u need to start with something, right?

Marinette: a rough sketch???

Marinette: these lines r so good!!

Coz: not good enough

Coz: some words require clarification

Coz: and the fourth line needs to be corrected ‘cause of the rhythmic error

Marinette: what’s rhythmic error?

Coz: in verse, all lines should have the same rhythmic structure

Coz: stressed syllables alternate with unstressed ones in a certain order

Coz: otherwise the rhythm breaks

Coz: just like it does at the end of the fourth line

Marinette: wow

Marinette: Adrien was right

Marinette: u r really good at that

Coz: i guess i was good once

Coz: but i stopped writing a long time ago

Marinette: it's a waste

Marinette: it’s obvious that u have a talent

Marinette: besides, u also understand what u r doing!

Marinette: so like u can do it both with ur heart and ur mind

Felix wasn’t feeling right.

Marinette would never tell him all those compliments and give all this support if she knew it was him. And though they kind of were enemies — not that he had a reason for it, Felix was more like following her lead every time she started arguing with him — he would prefer her to say those words to his face, which would never happen.

Felix was self-confident and usually did not need outside support for his undertaking, but for some reason such open admiration from this girl hit him to the core.

He stopped writing poetry after his father’s death and didn’t think he would have an inspiration to ever write again. But this story touched him, as if it was written about himself...

Marinette: i have to ask though

Marinette: why does she have blue eyes?

Felix blinked.

He reread the lines and realized that when he imagined the masked couple on a secret date, the eyes looking back at him from behind the mask were her eyes.

Marinette.

Felix shook his head. This was getting deeper than it should have.

Coz: blue is good collor

Coz: do u have something against blue?

He wrote, trying to cover his tracks.

Marinette: no, no

Marinette: i don’t mind

Marinette: my eyes r blue as well

Marinette: i was just curious

Marinette: for me it sounds perfect

Marinette: i can associate myself with a heroine better

Marinette: so it’s gonna be easier to write about her feelings, i guess

Felix sighed.

Accepting compliments while hiding under the guise of someone else from a girl who hated him in real life was more than enough for him to also identify with the character in this story.

It remains only to fall in love with her for the full picture!

Marinette: so thank u again

Marinette: u also explained me about rhythm in verses

Marinette: and wrote few lines for our story

Marinette: and even explained me about turning bad luck into good

Marinette: u r just a treasure!

Marinette: i don’t understand why Adrien hid u for so long!

Marinette: maybe he was afraid that you would take away all his fans?

Marinette: with ur writing talent, u don’t even need to be a model for that

The reminder of Adrien upset him even more. The more she praised him, the more she would hate him when she knew it was Feelix. And the presence of Adrien in this situation guarantees that at the latest when Marinette finds out the truth is at school tomorrow.

Felix himself did not notice when this fact began to upset him.

Marinette: can i call u?

Felix read her message again.

Looks like the moment of truth will come sooner than he anticipated.

Of course Felix could say that he couldn’t speak right now or try to change his voice. But what will it give? Few more messages about poetry?

At least this way it will happen outside a crowded place and the issue will be closed.

Felix pressed the call button himself.

“Oh, hey!” Marinette exclaimed into the phone, but he heard that she was trying to speak quietly. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure you could talk. It’s pretty late already, my parents are asleep, so I can’t speak loud. But I really wanted to hear your voice.”

“I see.” Felix said also in a low voice and sighed, preparing to take the hit. At least she won’t scream so as not to wake up her parents. “Now you heard it.”

“You have an even, calm voice. I like it.” Marinette said.

What?

Not a day went by that they didn’t yell at each other at school. There was no way she wouldn’t recognize his voice, unless…

Marinette was used to his loud, rough voice. Plus, she doesn’t expect to hear HIS voice here. And how not to believe after that that people see and hear only what they want or expect?

“Your voice is nice too.” Felix said finally. ‘When you don’t use it for yelling at me,’ – he added in his head.

“We never met, but I had this feeling that I know you.” Marinette admitted. “So I wanted to hear your voice too, you know, maybe to shake that feeling away?”

“Did it work?” Felix asked.

“Not really.” She laughed softly. “It actually didn’t, ‘cause now it feels like I know your voice too.”

Here it comes, Felix thought.

“Maybe it’s one of those cases when you meet someone for the first time, and it feels like you know each other forever?” Marinette suggested. “I only heard of it before. Don’t you feel something similar?”

“Kind of.” He replied evasively .

“So tell me, why Adrien has a photo of a red-haired dog instead of your picture in your contact?” Marinette asked.

‘It’s because Adrien knows that Ladybug gave the dog miraculous to me instead of him and he still hasn’t settled on this subject, because he has a crush on her, and I stole her yoyo with all the miraculous, so you can imagine the situation for him…’ – that would have been hell of an answer, Felix thought.

“It’s a long story.” He said instead.

“Hmm… Now you are like a mystery to me.” Marinette said. “But someone taught me to use bad luck and make a good out of it.” She added, and Felix could hear her smiling.

The corners of his mouth twitched into an unconscious smile in response.

“And what good is it in not knowing the face of your interlocutor?” He asked.

“I can imagine you the way I want.” She explained.

Felix smirked.

Marinette was learning fast and could have a great potential for an interesting company.

Too bad their conversation will soon have to be interrupted.

“And how do you imagine me?” Felix asked, deciding to enjoy the moment, since such an opportunity was presented to him.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Marinette replied. “But I'll tell you when I do.”

[part 1] ... [part 3]

Felinette Tag list (ask me to join)

@mochegato

@thepapillonnoir

@snow-leopard-777

@loves-books

@turiankitty

@toodaloo-kangaroo

@readingismyoxygen

@aespades

@starlightshield

@jessigurl-design

@trippingovermyfeet

@apasponsor

@avs17

@fangirlingfanatic

@psychicdelusionwerewolf

@ur-beautiful-when-u-smile

@spicemallow

@kking13

@frieddonutsweets

@miraculous-panic

@ateneagirasol

@its-maemain

@unoriginalmess

@achaoticmess1

@starfire21

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise!

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you. MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai: MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something: MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult.

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest. (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

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free-pool-trash · 3 years

Note

Okay, can I requests all free! boys (maybe add for albert and kaede too) with s/o who is youtuber (they s/o is pretty famous though) and what kinds of video would they like to do together. I love your writing and tq for it and don't forget to stay safe🥰🥰

Hey lovely! 💕 i love this request so imma pump it out rn (hey Free! queens haven’t seen yall in a while, how we doing? 😎)

Im just gonna do for style 5 + Albert and Kaede for now but let me know if you want the rest 😉

This is actually something I’ve thought about a lot so lets get into it 🤩

Did i proof read this? No ❤️

Haru:

He’s that boyfriend who supports you in everything you’re doing while simultaneously having absolutely no clue what you’re doing

For example; vlogging absolutely boggled his mind at first

“Who are you talking to?”

“Oh I’m just vlogging, do you wanna say hi?”

“Vlogging?”

“Yes, say hi.”

“BuT tO wHo?”

After a while he gets used to it though

“You’re vlogging? Hey guys.”

You have to beg him to be in videos otherwise he won’t do it

When he does though it’s usually a good old “How well do we know each other challenge” and sometimes you can even manage to rope him into one of those “picking each others clothes” videos

He’ll make appearances in vlogs though

Actually quite likes holding the camera

He ends up seeing fans in public and when they come up to him he’s like “👁👄👁 how do you know who i am?” But after the initial shock he’s really nice to them

Will facetime you so they can say hi

Absolutely 100% gains a fanbase of his own

All the comments under your videos with him are the funniest things ever with some gems such as:

“Haru really said 😐(😍🥰)😐”

“POV: ur the camera seeing Haru actually smiling ❤️👄❤️”

“#saveharu”

Makoto:

Supportive king!!!

Hands down your number one fan

He’s always offering to help you with your videos

Is always down with being in videos with you

His favourite thing is making videos like story times and doing gaming videos with you

Which are usually pretty chaotic and funny

The gaming videos provide your subs with a lot of cute y/n-makoto content

“Babe I suck at this”

“No you don’t, you’re the best” he says it really quietly while smashing buttons and taking his game very seriously

Vlogs are the best too, he talks to the camera like he’s on a FaceTime

“Oh! Hey guys, how are you all doing? I hope you’re doing good.”

Your fans love him

You’ve earned the “mom and dad” title

Since they love him so much you often let him take over daily vlogs

“Hey guys. Y/n isn’t feeling great today so you’re stuck with me!”

The comment section:

“Hi dad 🥺😭”

“Imagine having a boyfriend who loves u enough to literally do your job for you when you’re sick 😭😭😭😭”

“Whose gonna tell y/n that her boyfriend contemplated bringing home like 5 different cats 😳”

Everyone wants you to give him an e-boy transformation

You’re still trying to convince him

Rei:

I think he’d really enjoy doing videos with you

Not camera shy at all

The man has a lot to say

His partner has a beautiful online presence and he’s super proud of you!

He’d love making videos that have a little bit of competitiveness to them

Loves a challenge

Playing boyfriend tags with him is stressful af because he has the date of everything you’ve ever done memorised

Absolutely BODIES the swapping clothes for a day videos

He’s a really good sport and your fans really like him

“Rei looks better in a skirt than I do, you guys...”

“I simply can’t help my calf muscles, my love.”

Not great with vlogging

The comments you get:

“Rei when the vlog camera comes out in the mall 🙈 i do not see🙈”

“I wanna see them wear matching outfits 👀”

“Y/n please ask Rei to start up a studying channel 😭”

You actually rope him into making a study tips video with you

To be fair he does most of the talking and you just listen and look at him like 🤩🥰

He loves interacting with fans

He’s always liking and commenting on fan edits of you on Instagram

Nagisa:

Jenna and Julien. Jenna and Julien. Jenna and Julien. Jenna and Julien.

Most chaotic baby on camera

Craft! Videos!

Also chaotic challenges

King of gaming videos

He also is willing to let you put make up on him

“Nagisa, I’m begging you, please sit still.”

Absolutely does not sit still but gives you a lil kiss

He’s so sweet on and off camera

Most of your vlog content is just him doing golden retriever boy stuff

Your audience adore him

Videos come up in your suggestions and they’re all like, “Nagisa being chaotic for ten minutes straight”, “Y/n trying to get Nagisa to pay attention for 4 minutes.”

He gets so excited when your doing videos together, “Yeah guys, this is actually my channel now. I’m taking it over.”

“No he isn’t.”

“Yes I am. Sorry babe but you’re fired.”

Mr. Steal your channel

Rin:

😍😍😍 am i right?

First of all; he’s such a heart throb

Your fans are obsessed with him

He always wants you to work out with him so you decide to get some content out of it

Video gems like “Eating like my olympian Boyfriend for a week”

“RinRin, how the fuck are you even still alive?”

“It’s a salad, Y/n, not a bowl of air.”

“Who the fuck orders a salad at a restaurant, Rin?”

“I’m so sorry that you guys have to hear this profanity.” He says to the camera as if he doesn’t swear every five seconds

Those are usually the types of videos you guys make together

The comments you guys get when he’s feeling lovey in a video

“Oh to be Y/n 😓”

“Alexa, play sweater weather by the neighbourhood”

“The way he looks at her. Im in pain.”

“If they ever break up, i want you to put me down.”

Vlogging at the movies is hilarious because 99% of the time when you come out he’s crying

“Guys please stop telling Rin to take his shirt off on camera, he literally can’t say no and it’s distracting.”

Rin swimming content is highly requested

And what can you say? You give the people what they want 😌✨

Albert:

He’s into it

Once the camera comes on, this man becomes a comedic legend

“Hey guys, today we’re uh, doing something. I’m gonna be honest I don’t know, I didn’t ask. My girlfriend pulls out the camera and I do what I’m told.”

“We’re going to give you different aesthetics.”

He’s like 🤗 “oh okay go for it”

Very complient

He’s down for absolutely anything

“Content is content baby”

Sometimes he just comes into your video room and hijacks your videos

“Thought I’d pop in and say hi”

And by pop in and say hi he actually means sit beside you and look at the camera like he’s on The Office

Oh my god do the fans love this man

He trolls them

He sees comments like, “Y/n is so cute! 😍” and he’s like, “That’s why she has a boyfriend.”

They love him though and if he sees them out in public he’s super sweet

Kaede:

(Im ngl this dude kinda scares me)

Probably has to be coaxed into making videos with you

I get the impression that this man is cocky on camera

Did someone say ✨pda✨

“K, I’m making a video”

“So?”

Doesn’t really interact with fans

Or pay too much attention when he’s actually filming with you

He doesn’t really care but he does it because it makes you happy

He’s more responsive when it comes to vlogs

“I’ve convinced y/n to come to the pool with me, she doesn’t swim but she looks hot in a swimsuit. Not as good as I do, but still.”

You have to cut a lot of the stuff he says out of videos

He makes so many innuendos

✨comments✨:

“It’s the way Kaede doesn’t care about literally anything for me 🙈”

“Someone please check on Y/n, she’s TIRED 😩😓.”

#free x reader #haruka nanese x reader #makoto tachibana x reader #rin matsuoka x reader #rei ryugazaki x reader #nagisa hazuki x reader #albert free!#kaede free!

690 notes · View notes

romanapologist · 3 years

Text

montreal - roman hurt/comfort

pairing: this was written to all be platonic prinxiety, but can definitely be interpreted romantically !

warnings: unconventional self harm, non-graphic descriptions of wounds/injury

summary: a post-POF roman hurt/comfort fic in january 2021? yes <3

word count: 3.2k

notes: large portions of this were salvaged from one (1) night last summer at 4am when i was having a . time. the rest has been mainly recently written before i go to bed, with some extra bits added during my history classes B)) also shout out to [REDACTED]. u may not read this but if u do, i hope u know who u are & ilu

Virgil had been trying to calm himself down for the better part of an hour, as soon as they got back from the wedding fiasco; and he was doing a relatively okay job. Considering the circumstances, at least. Or so he thought, when he registered a spike in Thomas’s anxiety. This only served to make Virgil more anxious, because he had thought he had been doing well—until, he realized it wasn’t anxiety, not exactly, not fully—and it wasn’t coming from him.

Once he'd figured that out, it wasn't hard to trace the feeling to the imagination. He paused at the door. If this was where the strongest negative emotions were coming from, he already knew which side this was about. And could he really be surprised? Roman had wanted that callback for so long. Even at the court case, even when Roman gave Thomas his sentence, Virgil knew it killed him. And Virgil didn't do anything. Because he was so fucking scared of Thomas being bad, or of Janus winning, or something, and now whatever was going on was his fault, and--

And now was not the time for these thoughts. He breathed in. He opened the door.

Immediately, he was coughing out soot, heat burned his cheeks, his eyes blurred with protective tears forming against the smoke. It was hard to see, let alone process, what was happening. Then, he caught sight of the Dragon Witch. And he caught sight of—

“Roman!” Virgil choked on the yell, coughing again.

Obviously Roman couldn’t hear him from the distance, especially considering the brutal roar of the creature. Adrenaline kicked in, and as Virgil began to sprint towards the prince, he took in the entirety of the scene with alarm. Roman was...fighting, sure, except that Virgil had seen him fight before, and this... wasn’t right. Roman bested manticore-chimeras like it was a breeze, he HAD bested the Dragon Witch herself in every form she took, “just for training.” He always moved like he was in a ballet, not a battle, like it was more for show than challenge, and now...

Virgil watched Roman fall to a hard swish of the creature’s tail, and stay there. He almost expected the Dragon Witch to take mercy, or at least, to accept an early victory. But he watched her rear back, raise a taloned hand, the magma-red in her throat glowing brighter and brighter—just as Virgil got close enough to let fight win over flight.

Virgil crashed into Roman; they rolled just far enough that the swipe of claws only ripped the edge of Virgil’s jacket.

Immediate danger out of the way, Virgil clenched his eyes tight, trying to do it how Logan taught him. He found something that didn’t make sense--the grass. The grass was dry, therefore it should have been burning, but it wasn’t. He took that foothold to dispel all the fantastical elements of the scene, Dragon Witch and all her carnage blinking from existence. The new calm of the scene was jarring.

That just left a great big field, Virgil, and one absolute dumbass.

"What the fuck, Princey?!"

Virgil’s voice was distorted with stress, and Roman stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure—even terrified in a way that hurt. Virgil quickly pushed himself up so he wasn't pinning the other. Roman tried to copy this movement, only to groan, start coughing, and fall back again.

“Shit, I—“ Virgil looked at his hands and found red on them, looked at Roman and saw the color painting his chest. “I thought I dispelled all the imaginary stuff, why—?“

“Left brain sides can only dispel so much of what right brain sides feel,” Roman said, voice rough and thin and upsettingly casual, “Since they feel so real to me, you can’t get rid of them.”

“They feel…? Christ, ok, you need a medical kit, uhm—“ Virgil closed his eyes again; he was notoriously shitty at summoning things, and he had to concentrate for this—

“That’s ok; I’ve got it,” Roman said, letting out a quiet hiss as he propped himself up on one arm, and summoned the medical kit with the other, “You can go now.”

Virgil gaped at him in disbelief. When Roman attempted to stand up, and Virgil could no longer deny he wasn’t joking, he exclaimed, “Like Hell am I going, idiot!”

Roman just stared at him, and Virgil cursed under his breath. “Ok ok, let’s just... we should do this in the bathroom, uhm—“

Virgil awkwardly clambered over to Roman again, taking his hand, so he could blink them over together. He knew it would probably be more comfortable for Roman to sink in and out, but considering Virgil wasn’t practiced at that, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

They apparated into the bathtub, and Virgil scrambled up, taking the med kit from Roman's hands.

Ok, ok, now Virgil just had to remember that one time Logan lectured them all on “Side Safety.” He took a shaky breath and washed his hands quickly, before turning back to Roman. He allowed himself to fully assess the prince this time and… Jesus. He was slumped against the back of the tub, having given up his attempts at composure while he thought Virgil wasn’t looking. His litany of scrapes, cuts, bruising, his shallow breathing, and--most of all--the wet, red patch slowly growing on his shirt, sparked renewed panic in Virgil.

“Ok, fuck, ok--let’s do this,” Virgil said, mostly to himself, as he knelt down by Roman to undo his already tattered shirt and take a wet towel to his chest. He had to suck in a breath at the sight of the jagged wound, a nauseous feeling catching up to him.

“You’ve already done a lot, you know,” Roman insisted. “You can--”

“If you tell me to go, Princey, I swear I’ll make these wounds worse myself,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest, which he would assume Roman knew--but the way Roman flinched and shut his mouth told a different story. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t mean that!”

Roman glanced away, and Virgil reached to cup his cheek, an instinct he didn’t know he had. Luckily, he caught himself in time to retract his hand. They both avoided eye contact for a second; Virgil cleared his throat; and he reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before pausing. He vaguely recalled Logan mentioning how strong alcohols would only cause more harm, and they should just stick to mild soap instead. He gave the cut a longer look-over—it was certainly not a pretty sight, but probably not as bad as it looked. It was large, but not too deep. Plus, as sides, it would heal itself without needing anything like stitches or professional medical work. The past scars littering Roman’s body were proof of that. Actually--had he always had this many scars? Virgil squinted. How often did he do this?

Virgil finished cleansing and bandaging the wound to the best of his ability, with little talk beyond the occasional, soft “sorry” at Roman’s winces. When he had finished, he gave Roman his hoodie (an action the Prince was too tired to take much notice of), since summoning a new shirt seemed like a waste of whatever energy he had left.

“Ok, Princey, all done. Uhm, are you—how, how are you?” Virgil mentally kicked himself.

A small, bitter smile tugged at Roman’s lips for just a moment. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally shrugged. “Thank you for your help.”

It hurt, Virgil realized. Roman’s quiet voice, where near-shouting was his usual speech. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead, where it was usually styled to be very lightly and intentionally ruffled. The bags beneath his eyes where there was usually concealer. All of it hurt.

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I hope you know there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving yet.”

“Virgil,” Roman almost said it as a whine, which was closer to his usual style, so Virgil considered it progress.

“Roman,” Virgil deadpanned back.

Roman huffed. “Maybe I need space to really explore my feelings, and you’re actually being a terrible friend right now,” he argued.

“Uh-huh, well being a terrible friend is always my favorite, so,” Virgil leaned down, fumbling slightly as he picked Roman up bridal style, “We’re gonna get you to bed, and you can explore your feelings by sleeping.”

“Great, now you’re damsel-in-distressing me,” Roman said sarcastically, but he leaned his head into Virgil’s chest as he did so, which kind of ruined his point.

“Yeah, yeah. Act more like Megara next time, and maybe it’ll be different.”

•••

Roman groaned upon waking up. His whole body ached, but mainly it was focused around a sharper pain in his chest. He let his eyes flutter open, only to find Virgil staring at him from his desk.

“Ah,” Roman uttered, a jumble of memories from the past few hours returning. They felt foggy and mildly icky, but mainly the pain in them was the numb kind of pain, the tired kind. Really, it was indistinguishable from the dull ache of his bruises and cuts.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, as though he understood, even though he couldn’t possibly. “Uh, wanna talk about it?”

It was clear Virgil felt awkward asking the question. It was unclear whether that was due to his tendency to be embarrassed by everything he said, or—far more likely—that he wanted to stop babying a stupid prince, and just go about his business.

Roman sat up, suppressing a wince as best he could. “Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do.” Virgil said it without an ounce of hesitation. Roman’s breath caught.

“Oh.” Roman shifted slightly over, and Virgil took a seat by him on the bed. “Okay. Uhm. I don’t know, I just—I messed up.” What else was new?

“...What did you mess up?” Virgil asked, with an inkling of suspicion, like he knew what this was about. But it wasn’t that; it wasn’t the callback—that was over and done and dead. Roman had created so many fantasies, so many crazy scenarios where they could somehow still make it in that stupid movie, and it had always filled him with hope or crushing pain or something, but as of this afternoon? He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.

So, Roman ignored the question, and instead commented, “Janus got accepted.”

“What the fuck.”

Roman observed Virgil’s stricken expression like an unsettling kind of mirror of himself when—

My name is Janus.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I didn’t take it so well either.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, seeming to go through several series of emotions, before he was able to ask, “...What happened?”

Roman inhaled sharply. “I was wrong about being wrong about the wedding. Patton was also wrong; Janus was right, and then Patton was right because he wasn’t a total asshole to Janus, and I’m evil; Thomas hates me; whatever, you get it.”

He thought he would break down, saying it, but he felt oddly… fine. He sat, staring at the same spot as he was before, absentmindedly annoyed at the way his bandages itched. The normalcy of the situation almost made it worse. This sucked. This wasn’t even bad.This was the worst he had ever felt.

“Oook,” Virgil said, clearly not knowing where to start, “I—you—what do you mean: Thomas hates you?”

“Thought that one was self-explanatory.”

“He can’t hate you,” Virgil said with a laughable amount of conviction. “You’re still his… y’know.. goals. Desires. Hopes. Whatever. Just because this one didn’t go… perfectly, doesn’t mean you won’t keep—“ he struggled to find the phrasing for a moment— “...fighting, uh, valiantly for Thomas’s dreams!” he attempted at the encouragement with a weak smile.

Roman just shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he wants.”

Virgil’s smile dropped into confusion. “But… you are his wants.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Virgil seemed at a loss, and Roman felt like an asshole. Here he was trying to help him, and Roman couldn’t even be bothered to put on a smile to dismiss him from the duty.

“Please go,” Roman attempted weakly when he couldn’t find a more convincing argument in himself. He was meant to be an actor, but he knew he couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted him to stay, of course he did, so badly. He hoped Virgil would just quit with the chivalry and go despite that.

Virgil sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I'm going about this all wrong.”

Roman knew it probably wasn’t really him Virgil was mad at, but it was hard not to shrink away anyway.

“Look, Roman—“ Virgil turned to him, looked at him seriously, took his hands in his— “To be honest? I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who was right or wrong—I mean, we all know I’ve been in the wrong more than my fair share. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Roman didn’t miss the ambiguity of the end statement. “But… look, you don’t get it. When you mess up, you’re still you. You’re still...,” Roman gestured vaguely, which upset his bandages, and when he looked down at himself, he took note of the black/purple hoodie he was wearing. He melted slightly. This was exactly the point he was trying to make, “You’re still... y’know. Important.”

“Wh—? Of course you’re important, Ro. You’re creativity—“

“Thomas has two of those.”

Virgil looked at him like he was stupid. “Right, as if you’re anything like Remus.”

Roman’s lip quivered at that, and he had to look away, which was so stupid. And suddenly he felt all of the embarrassment at once—of this situation, of everything that had happened before, of the way he was about to cry, in front of Virgil, after he said that, which must look so—

“Roman?”

A hand was on his cheek, softly turning his face towards Virgil’s, though Roman still refused to meet his eyes.

Virgil cursed to himself under his breath. “Shit, this is exactly what I was trying not to say.” He sighed, and Roman hesitantly looked up at him. “Look. Even if you weren’t creativity, if you weren’t hopes or dreams or any of it—if you were a completely pointless side, which you aren’t, but if you were—I wouldn’t care. What I care about is that you’re... Roman. That you bother me until I sing Disney with you, that when you put your heart into something, you do it to a stupid amount, that you make Thomas take trashy buzzfeed soulmate quizzes when he’s stressed, and that you fucking try so hard for everything, even when I’m being a little bitch about it,” he paused. With the hand on Roman’s cheek, he traced the line of a scar down his jaw. It was one of the ones Roman usually made sure to put an illusion over, he noted offhandedly. “I care, because you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Roman choked out. He couldn’t handle it if it was a lie, and part of him couldn’t manage hearing it as anything but exactly that. “Just—just—“

“Oh, Princey..”

Virgil held him as he broke. Roman didn’t know how long they sat like that as he let everything wash over him for a final time, let it all truly sink in at long last. He took heaving, messy sobs, no doubt ruining Virgil’s shirt in the process—he was quiet, though. He shook silently, save a couple choked breaths, in the other’s arms--that was a habit he had taught himself long ago.

When Roman had tired himself out, when all that was left was the pain in chest, (which was also suddenly duller—he was healing fast, even for a side—) he pulled back from the embrace. Virgil didn’t move by much, kept them so their fingers were laced together, as they sat staring at each other.

“Uhm. Thanks,” Roman gave a shaky smile, “You really—uh... I... I said some stupid stuff, huh?”

Virgil hesitated before he spoke, as if he knew he shouldn’t ask this right now, but needed to anyway. “...Roman, why’d you go to the Imagination?”

Roman felt ice stab at his chest upon the question. He didn’t want to do this. They had already talked about so much that he shouldn’t have gotten into; this was meant to be the part where they either parted or watched a stupid movie. And this, out of everything, was the conversation he most needed to avoid.

“Uh—I mean, to let off steam?” Roman gave a laugh as best he could. “Obviously, it didn’t go to plan—“

“Didn’t it?”

Roman’s face fell immediately. He struggled to come up with an answer, and even if he had had one, he didn’t think the sound would come out. This was enough of an answer in itself

“Shit,” Virgil breathed. Roman couldn’t help but be mildly annoyed by his surprise—clearly he had already known, he didn’t have to make it a big deal now.

“I… Princey—Roman…” Virgil looked him up and down, and Roman wanted to curl up and hide. “...how many times?”

“Not many,” Roman mumbled. Virgil must have known he was pushing the subject too far, because he just frowned and said,

“OK. I mean...it’s not OK, obviously, but you already know that, I just—“ he sighed. “Just… can you talk to me? Instead? Please? When you feel like… that.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Roman responded hastily, wanting an out from this topic.

Virgil gave him a look. “I’m serious. I mean—look, you don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want. Just, come to me first, yeah?”

Roman’s face burned; he was embarrassed; he wanted to shrug this whole thing off, or roll his eyes, or maybe scream in annoyance. But the rational part of him knew Virgil was right. “OK,” he agreed softly, “...Thanks. For everything.”

Virgil looked surprised, and then flustered, and then waved off the earnest reply. “I mean, it wasn’t--I didn’t--it’s not like I did anything really--”

“You did.”

Virgil’s face softened. “Yeah, well... you’d’ve done the same for me. You... have done the same for me.”

Roman smiled gently at him. “By the way, Virge--” He hesitated. He was about to sound like a real dumbass if Virgil had only been saying this stuff for comfort’s sake. But making a fool of himself was becoming a theme for him anyway, so he continued, “You’re my best friend too.”

I love you.

In the same beats Roman thought it, Virgil squeezed his hand lightly 3 times. A breath passed between them. An understanding. That Roman couldn’t say it out loud, and Virgil wouldn’t.

Instead, Virgil fell back across the bed, bringing Roman with him in the motion. Roman let out a startled gasp and elbowed him lightly. “Hey! I’m injured, that could have been a fatal impact for me!” he whined.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah, OK. So, do you wanna watch a stupid movie, or what?”

#lucy.fic #romangst #roman sanders angst #roman hurt/comfort #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #everyone ik reading the title of this fic: ohhh my god we know u like penelope scott we know #‘we know u associate this song w roman we KNOW</3’#roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #also standard statement that im not a writer i just write sometimes pls do not. judge thishehusgs

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kafka-ish · 4 years

Text

richie tozier gets off a good one | r.t.

“This was not to say Richie could not be very funny from time to time; he could be. When referring to verbal zingers and farts, Richie’s terminology was the same: he called it Getting Off A Good One, and he got off Good Ones of both types frequently...” -- Stephen King

word count: 3.3k

warnings/included: nsfw (explicit smut, oral -- male receiving, male x female, mentions of masturbating), fem!reader

a/n: pls enjoy !

It was a cold shower kind of afternoon as the thunder from outside Richie’s bedroom window roared loud enough to be mistaken for a dragon. Dragons don’t exist. Richie, however, ignored the booming sounds of nature from outside—his thoughts lost in a certain someone; and his ears muffled by the pillows encasing him.

y/n was coming over for a study session at two p.m. sharp, per Wentworth’s request, but Richie still had time as his left hand traveled to the zipper of his orange, corduroy trousers. It’s not like Richie knew y/n. This afternoon, this shameful afternoon where if his dad were home right now, he’d be caught with his hand in his pants and a name he’d rather not talk about in between his lips, would be his first time meeting the girl.

Wentworth Tozier was the one to suggest she come over on this grey Sunday afternoon during Thursday’s family dinner when he noticed Richie’s recent report card.

“A C in chemistry?”

“The C stands for Chemistry,” Richie said with a smirk on his face. It didn’t seem to work because Mr. Tozier’s frown didn’t budge, and Maggie Tozier only sipped her coffee which had to be cold by now.

“You know we expect better from you.” He was right. His parents weren’t used to anything other than a line of A’s on the weekly transcript he brought home. Richie wasn’t either. But lately, something had taken a toll on his grades—or someone.

“You know what might help him, dear?” Wentworth looked up from the chicken he was currently cutting through. “A tutor.”

“I do not need a tutor.” Richie dropped his fork which was being used to play with his green beans.

“Your grades say otherwise, kid,” Wentworth countered. “You know, Maggie, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Not you too, Dad!” Richie cried out, exasperated at the scene playing out in front of him.

Ignoring his son, Wentworth continued, “In fact, I think my buddy back from Catholic school has a kid who could tutor him.” He took a bite. “Last I heard, she was fairly good at the sciences.”

“You should think about calling them after dinner,” Maggie said without looking up. Which was how Richie ended up with only an hour left to get himself off rather than the rest of the day.

Although his hand was no match for any of his previous hookups, it was faster, and it got the job done. He was just about to finish when the doorbell rang and a knock on his door startled him from his position and kept him from finishing.

“Coming!” Richie yelled; certain that the outsider wasn’t going to hear him. He stood up from his position on his bed, pulled up the trousers that hung from his ankles and trekked his way downstairs. His feet made a thumping sound as they padded their way down the stairs—roughly at that. He was surprised the house didn’t shake at his footsteps. “We don’t want your Girl Scout cookies,” Richie said, half annoyed that his session was cut early.

“I’m not a Girl Scout.” y/n held open the door with her hand before Richie could close it. She wore a white button down that was haphazardly tucked into a blue-green, plaid skirt. Her already see-through blouse was even more see-through, as the rain from standing outside for so long had drenched it from the outside in.

“Oh.” Richie didn’t say anything for a moment. “I didn’t order a pizza, either.”

“I didn’t bring you a pizza, either.” y/n was growing just about as annoyed as he was. “Can I just come in?”

“I don’t know about that one, toots.” Richie made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Pops said I’m not allowed to let strangers in.”

“Richie, please, just let me in,” y/n seethed. She didn’t have time for his bullshit and quite frankly, he didn’t either. If Richie let his grades take another blow to the one-inch margin, his C would threaten to turn into a D. “Your dad called mine on Thursday… I’m here to… tutor… you.”

Richie noticed how her voice had lowered and he could tell she was just as ecstatic as him for their study session. Wordlessly, he stepped away from the front door, allowing y/n some space to walk in. His eyes inadvertently glued themselves to her backside, watching as her skirt’s pleats swayed against her hips and the rain’s water trail against her long legs; a sight he’d swallow at and feel himself grow semi-hard to.

If all the girls at Catholic school looked like y/n, he might just have to transfer because just one glance at her made Richie forget all about the reason for his tragic C that stood for Chemistry.

“Where are we studying?” y/n asked. Her eyes darted around the place like it was foreign. It was foreign. Her hands clutched the book bag she held onto tighter, anxious by the new atmosphere.

“Is my room okay?” Richie asked, already starting up the stairs. His tone had gone soft, like when you microwave butter. He almost felt bad for protesting against the idea of being tutored just a few short days ago.

“Yeah.” y/n followed him, making sure to leave an appropriate amount of space between the two bodies.

“Do you need a change of clothes?” Richie said, not trying to cover up the obviousness in his voice; that he was obviously looking at her covered chest each second she spent turned away from him; that he had an obvious hard-on that he hadn’t bother to conceal under his ridiculous corduroy pants.

“No,” y/n said with a bit of uncertainty. Sure, she was soaking wet from her hair to her toes, but she wasn’t about to borrow one of Richie Tozier’s ridiculous band-tees that would wear like a dress.

“What’s with the get-up, anyway?” Richie smirked. Before he sat down, he pulled out an extra seat for her. Usually, it would be used to discard his dirty clothes on. Luckily, Maggie Tozier had taken the liberty of cleaning up before their guest got here.

“Laundry day,” y/n sighed while sitting down her bag next to her. She brushed out her skirt as she sat down so it’d cover as much of her bare legs as fabric would sparingly allow. Her skirt was drenched, and she was sure it would leave the chair just the same as if she stood up any time soon.

“Don’t have to wear that thing tomorrow?” Richie couldn’t help but think about all the other girls who’d be wearing the same outfit on Monday. Of course, their blouses wouldn’t be overly exposing, but their legs would still be bare and long—longing for Richie’s stare if you catch a drift.

“Aren’t you failing something?” y/n snapped back.

Richie swallowed the rest of the words lingering in the back of his throat.

“I was thinking we start with the basics.” y/n bent down, searching for the green folder she had marked ‘Science’ in thick, permanent ink. Richie couldn’t help but steal another look at her figure—outlined by the white shirt that clung to it.

“Basics?” His voice cracked, but he was too caught up in her to care.

“Well, what do you need help with?”

“Nothing.” Richie scoffed, not letting some girl he barely knew deflate his ego.

“Then why am I here?” She countered. Her eyebrow raised, unimpressed, and her fingers started to drum anxiously against the wood of his desk.

“Right now, we’re going over stoichiometry,” Richie shrugged, not bothering to meet her eyes—her bright, keen eyes he’d find himself lost in if he weren’t careful. “It’s not the math part I need help on it’s the—”

“Concentration.”

“Yeah.” Richie let out a heavy sigh. He already knew what y/n looked like—beautiful, while water droplets kissed her neck that he itched to touch. It wouldn’t hurt to steal yet another glance, he thought, while turning towards her. “It’s like I can’t focus,” he said, finally making eye contact.

“And you need help with that?” She questioned. The familiar feeling of anticipation welled in the back of her throat but there was no telling why.

“I guess.” Richie’s eyes left hers to stare at the wall. The view was less impressive, but it let him form a cohesive thought.

“I think I know a way.” y/n’s demeanor had completely changed by now. Richie was about to mutter out a how or what the hell are you talking about but the words in his mind scrambled together like the eggs his mother made that morning when he felt her hand travel down to his knee.

y/n’s touch was light and delicate—almost nothing as it grazed against the fabric of his jeans. But it was there. He felt it, and if he didn’t, his imagination must’ve been pretty goddamn realistic for running at a hundred hertz a minute. Her thumb ran circles against the corded pattern making his breath hitch.

“Uh, what’cha doin’?” Richie’s eyebrow rose at the hand on his pants which was making its way to the zipper.

“Helping,” she insisted, “if you’re having trouble focusing, you’re probably stressed, right?” Richie could only nod. “So, this will help you unstress.” He gasped at the sound and sight of y/n undoing his zipper. His eyes widened and she found herself smiling at his movements from such little touch already.

Richie was quick to roll his jeans, and the underwear underneath, to his ankles. His eager length stood hard and erect against his stomach and if it weren’t for his lack of social awareness, he’d be embarrassed to be seen bare in front of a girl he just met.

y/n’s right hand—timid but daring—wrapped itself around the base of his cock, eliciting a groan from Richie’s now parted and perfectly pink lips.

Surprise wouldn’t even begin to describe the swirl of emotions that found themselves in the pit of Richie’s stomach and began to bubble in his throat—another groan. Though, as surprised as Richie was, he couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of pleasure and yearning for more as he harshly swallowed at the feeling of friction and tightness y/n managed to spring upon him in one firm jerk.

She was on her knees now, the feeling of hardwood against bare skin didn’t seem to faze her. All her attention was on Richie. The sound of unsteady breaths from above had y/n’s cheeks flushed and panties in a heat. The only cohesive thought in her mind was wanting to hear those pretty little noises coming from Richie’s pretty little mouth again.

y/n didn’t need a mirror to know her pupils were blown, the sight before her that she couldn’t quite look away from and the uncomfortable feeling between her legs was enough, letting her realize what she was doing. What was she doing? Her grip on his length loosened as she moved her hand up and down, allowing for enough space for her mouth when she connected her lips to his dick.

“God. You feel great, toots.” It only took a few motions for Richie to already come lax at the feeling of y/n’s mouth. He wished it were another part.

y/n chuckled to herself. Having this much power over a boy made her feel… confident. No guy at her school would give her the time of day, it seemed—not even Jeremy Fields. But Richie Tozier… Richie Tozier was practically falling apart at the sight of her and y/n loved that. Richie felt her pace around him speed up and y/n felt herself grinding on her palm to meet his same high. The sight of her alone was enough to have Richie on edge.

“Sugar, if you don’t stop I’m gonna—” His heavy pants were enough to cut him off, but y/n took her chance to interrupt further.

“—You’ll what?” She pulled apart from him, a string of saliva connecting them. Richie almost whimpered at the warm feeling of her mouth provided—gone.

“I’m gonna bust before I can take care of you,” he admitted somewhat bashfully. His face was red, and y/n couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the fact that he had been worked up.

“Oh.” Back at her shy state, y/n ducked her head and felt her cheeks heat in a similar fashion to his. “Well, in that case…” y/n didn’t have to finish her sentence for Richie to get a grasp on what she was saying. She began to undo the buttons of the thin, white button up at an unbearably slow pace. She managed to peel the wet material that stuck to her skin gracefully even though she’d been itching to take it off as soon as she put it on.

“Wow.”

“Shut up,” y/n mumbled mindlessly, not daring to make eye contact. Part of her was embarrassed enough at the fact that she was on her knees for the boy she was supposed to teaching qualitative chemical reactions to. Her skirt was next to come off. The plaid fabric fell helplessly fell to the ground as soon as she unzipped it.

“I’m serious. You’re like… hot stuff, hot stuff,” Richie said as soon as she stood up, giving him a perfect view. Her underwear was a scalding red with embroidered flowers that decorated the side of her breasts and hipbone. The matching set was far from innocent, far from what Richie would imagine Catholic school girls to wear.

y/n didn’t say anything—her stomach too full of butterflies and a lump still caught in her throat. Richie could sense her nervousness and pulled her into him. To think, a girl he had met only thirty minutes ago was now engulfed in his arms and half-bare for him.

The rough pad of his thumb drew circles on her shoulder. The slow, sensual movements against her skin was electric and had the two riled up even more as Richie slotted his thigh in between hers for her to buck up against. The feeling of her clothed clit on lace as she dragged herself back and forth on his leg at an uneven pace was indescribable.

“Fuck.” It wasn’t unexpected that Richie broke the silence and occasional gasps. “You’re soaked… so… fuckin’ soaked.” He could feel the wetness from her panties that dripped onto his bare leg and he groaned at the thought that it was because of him.

y/n giggled but the sound of her breathy laughs in his ears didn’t last long as she pressed into him further and latched her lips onto his. It was like no other kiss he’s had before. As for y/n, she’d be ashamed to say it was her first kiss. That is, her first kiss where she felt something.

y/n swallowed the moan from Richie as their lips still locked and their tongues swept over each other.

“You’re like—”

“You are, too,” y/n breathed quickly, not bothering to hear the rest of the words. Her attention was now focused on him—or the lack of him inside her. She grabbed his throbbing length once again, taking barely any time to admire it. “Do you have any?”

“Yeah.” Richie swallowed. He opened the top left drawer of his desk, revealing a box of Trojans which he quickly took a foil packet from.

It was weird. Although y/n knew this was just a one time thing she couldn’t help but feel jealous as the small hairs on her neck stood to attention.

Effortlessly, Richie tore open the foil and slid on the condom. “Ready?”

y/n nodded and bit down on her cheek as she sunk down on him. Patiently, Richie waited for her to adjust to his size and a sign for him to move.

A quick kiss to his lips was it. It was different from the first. Swift, sweet, teasing. Richie wanted more. He wanted more as he thrust up into her and he wanted more as he felt y/n’s fingertips dig into his shoulders through the fabric of his shirt.

“Unfair that you have more clothes on,” y/n managed to speak through a whine. To which Richie opened his eyes and through hazy lids and lust-blown pupils he saw her panties that were pulled to the side as his dick met her entrance and the bra strap that was making its way down her arm.

Richie stifled a chuckle. “You want this off?” He gestured to the graphic tee that was basically draped over his slim figure.

“God, yes. Take a hint much?” She tugged weakly on the sleeve of his shirt and he pulled away for a second so he could remove it, revealing his smooth chest and delicious collarbone.

Another whine left y/n’s lips as he pulled her in closer again. His speed picked up as he bottoms out, reaching a spot no guy has ever found before. Her left hand his in his hair, gripping at his long locks that only a Rockstar would dare wear and her right hand is clutching his cheek—his freckle-sprayed cheek that relaxes under her soft hands and delicate fingers.

Richie’s hands, however, are in a much more intimate place he realizes as he moans yet again, this time at the feeling of his roots being pulled on. One is on her ass, keeping her from falling off, though it might be impossible seeing as how close the two are. The other is playing with her folds, using the same circular motions from earlier to coax her closer.

“You feel so good,” Richie says as his eyes roll back to his head. “Fuck.”

y/n hums. Her lips can’t help but curl into a smile once the words reach her ears. “I’m close,” she whispers and Richie nods in agreement.

It’s dirty and the total opposite of what Richie would expect from the girl who walked in his door a short hour ago, but they reach their highs together, while the filthiest noise Richie’s ever heard leaves y/n’s swollen lips. He watches her as she cums. Her hair is moussed and sweat shines across her furrowed brows. But Richie Tozier swears he hasn’t seen a prettier sight.

“Fuck, doll,” Richie says in amazement.

y/n’s still smiling as she opens her eyes, but she can’t help but be embarrassed at the same time.

“What?” The question is small, but there’s a certain weight on her shoulders that Richie notices.

“You’re hot.” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin and y/n wants to smack him right then and there. But she doesn’t. She only smiles back, quickly removes herself from him, and redresses herself with the same pace. Her shirt is only slightly less damp and slightly less uncomfortable, but it’ll do. y/n supposes she could just change into her pajamas once she got home. “What, don’t tell me our session’s over already,” Richie tries to joke.

“Sorry,” y/n sighs. Her backpack is already slung over her shoulder, she didn’t even need to ask Richie for help with her stuff.

“Hey, is this because…” Richie’s large palm finds a home on y/n’s shoulder which she tenses up at.

“No!” y/n’s barely able to choke it out. “But the session was, like, supposed to be an hour, you know? And I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” She’s back to her nervous self again.

“God.” Richie realizes what this is about now. “You’re not overstaying anything, toots. You can stay for dinner if you’d like,” he offers. “Hell, stay forever.”

y/n resists the urge to roll her eyes and opts for the dead skin on her lip instead. “I really have to go. Sorry, Rich.”

The last he sees is her half-smile from her all perfect lips before she slips out the door and into the rain again.

#richie tozier #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #richie tozier fluff #richie tozier x reader smut #richie tozier x reader fluff #it stephen king #it 2017 #it 2019 #sorry i'm bad at writing smut

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lovenona · 3 years

Note

I just haad to say thank you for the free serotonin that you have provided me with through the last artist sukuna post

it's just... ✨beautifull✨ we are slowly building up this au

BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM GETTING MORE AND MORE FRUSTRATED WITH THE LACK OF ATTENTION WERE HE'S KIND OF POUTING

and then there need to be a project done in which you have the option to work in groups and NO MATTER WHAT this proud cherry haired idiot WILL work alone but geto won't he came to y/n and they really need to work in a group if they want to get this done so of course y/n is happily gonna agree to the offer of geto to work together they do be viben after all which ultimately leads to the fact that y/n is gonna give sukuna even less attention (it probably doesn't even get on his nerves that much that y/n works with geto its just the lack of attention and ultimately time spending with you that result from it)

ah i am sorry I was rambling again😂

anyways hope you have a nice day and don't stress yourself too much with answering always happy to see you post❤️

babe let me just say ur brain is massive and i thank u from the bottom of my heart – anyway here’s the original post for everyone about to embark on this godforsaken journey with art student sukuna and our new friend pretentious fuck geto suguru

if you thought you were pitiful at drawing, your sculptural skills are on another level of true and utter shit. you cannot, for the life of you, create things out of clay. you despise carving anything into wood. your pottery faithfully collapses on you whenever you try. you hate working with glass. you would have dropped the class, honest, if you didn’t desperately need it in order to fulfill your major requirements and graduate on time.

all in all, it’s an awful class created solely to tank your gpa – you don’t understand what you’re doing, you don’t understand what anything is supposed to look like, and you sure as fuck don’t understand how anyone else seems to have their shit together all the time. when you glance around the room, no one, not even the famous ryomen sukuna, has trouble making their materials turn into something recognizable.

(and, in true sukuna fashion, he loves to make sure you know how fucking untalented you are.)

so when anthropology-and-ceramics king geto suguru asks if you want to be partners for the next big art project, you agree without a second thought. you’ve been talking to him recently, small talk before class, and for all his pretentious faults, you think he’s delightfully hot as fuck with a smooth voice to match. he wears those crisp, expensive button-downs that he bought at overpriced local craft markets. he always smells like cedar and eucalyptus; he brings a different tote bag to every class, his favorite being one he got as a gift for subscribing to the new yorker. he shops organic only and throws around the words “fair trade” and “bourgeoisie” and “means of production” with the ease that sukuna throws around the words “fuck” and “shit.”

you think geto is fascinating. and maybe he talks down to you when explaining his anthropology knowledge, he absolutely does, but when he gazes at you with those warm eyes and offers to help you learn how to sculpt and raise your grades, you can’t help but agree with a pair of big pathetic doe eyes.

why wouldn’t you? you’re just here for a good time, after all.

so when you giggle as geto places his sinfully smooth, manicured hands over yours while teaching you how to use the pottery wheel, you don’t think much of it. you think he’s cute and warm. you’d be a fool to notice the dark annoyance radiating from the other corner of the room.

ryomen sukuna always works alone. but what he didn’t count on was that you wouldn’t be working alone with him.

it’s not that you’re working with geto, he swears. it’s that you’re not working with him. his ears feel strangely empty without your argumentative quips, without the way you tell him he’s infuriating and annoying every time he tells you something lewd just to fluster you. it’s strangely empty without you both arguing about the difference between great artists and sell-outs – were you here, in his corner of the room, maybe sukuna would have tried to tell you michelangelo was a loser just to see what you would say.

but you’re not with him. you’re listening to geto tell you about the time he went to study abroad in germany and how he took a trip to morocco where he tried some amazing food you’ve never heard of. he’s telling you about the time he helped make tampons in botswana after his senior year of high school and all of the other deliciously precocious things he has done for the sake of human rights and anti-capitalism.

(you’re killing the environment, you know, geto often admonishes you when you stumble into class with your cup of coffee. that cup is going to end up in a landfill. he always taks a sip from his hydroflask for emphasis. it’s sleek and black with an oxfam sticker on it.

and sure, you know that your cup is going to become trash. geto doesn’t have to be an annoying fuck and tell you when it’s only eleven in the morning and he drove a literal moped to campus. but still, with that silky man-bun, everything he does is okay.)

but understand that sukuna doesn’t hate geto. sukuna craves attention, and he absolutely cannot stand being ignored. he’ll pout without realizing it, pursing his lips and wondering what kind of circus act he needs to perform to win back your presence. should he get another tattoo? cuss out the professor? offer to fuck you senseless in the third-floor bathroom? he’s not sure – he’s never not been seen before. ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what it’s like to come in second.

so he intercepts you after class; in a manner that is both sukuna-and-not-sukuna, he’ll casually throw one of his heavy arms over your shoulders, subtly pulling you away from geto’s aura, wrapping you in his scent of earth and leather and sex appeal. “come on, puppy,” he says, sultry and annoying and condescending all wrapped in one, tapping his ring-clad fingers against your arm. “you’re supposed to help me write my paper, aren’t you?” it’s not a question, it’s a demand, one you know deep down that you would rather die than shy away from.

you might not like sukuna, you tell yourself, but there’s something about him, the way he talks and moves and exists in the world, that makes you unable to shy away. there’s something about him that always makes you want more without you quite knowing why.

(he kissed you, once. sometimes you wonder if you would like it to happen again.)

and you’re still nestled under sukuna’s arm, trapped in his orbit and following him to his favorite empty classrooms, when geto calls back to you, wondering if you’re still interested in going to the avant-garde poetry reading with him tomorrow night.

he’s going to present a poem he wrote on the terrors inflicted on south america by the united states, geto had explained earlier when his hands were on yours. it was going to be some real, hard-hitting poetry, none of that “rupi kaur bullshit.” he thought it might enlighten you to join him, perhaps in more ways than one.

you pretend you don’t notice the way sukuna’s arm tightens around your shoulders when you tell geto with a flirtatious smile that you can’t wait.

#welcome to my blog where we just thirst all day long #geto and sukuna fighting over me? it's more likely than u think #pretentious fuck geto is my favorite thing ever #sukuna #sukuna x reader #geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #adele writes #artist!jjk #letters to adele #geto.seguru #ryomen.sukuna

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midgardsbest · 3 years

Text

Imagine: You feel a bit off today and the argument with your boyfriend Loki doesn’t make things better. What happens when a Steve who doesn’t understand British slang and an overprotective father ruin your sweet plan to get him back?

N/A: Hello dearests, enjoy this new Loki x reader imagine and tell me what are your impressions about it. If you wanna. If you don’t then DEATH. TO ALL OF THEM. Jk. Hope y’all got that reference. 🤟

Warnings: BestFriend!Natasha, Thor is lovely as usual, Dad!TonyStark, Boyfriend!Loki, Language, Fluff, Angst and more fluff, a bit of passion, and British reader/use of British slang (pretty easy and self-explanatory)

Words: 1953

Waking up that morning was tremendously hard. You stumbled against any piece of furniture installed inside of your room by your father, Tony Stark. Well, he was your stepfather, technically, but you weren’t particularly fond of the use of that word.

Yawning your way into the kitchen of the compound, you avoided meeting eyes with Steve. He had been more stressed than usual in the last few days, probably given the upcoming mission. He lashed out at you the day before, or at least that's what you thought was happening.

"I think a cuppa would serve you right."

"A what?"

You looked at him as if he were stupid, but you knew it couldn't be that. "A cuppa? It's.. a cup of tea. You don't know that?" Given his expression, either he was a bit dumb or was just done with you for that day. "No. I like coffee. But thank you."

You weren't mad at him, of course. Nonetheless, ignoring him for a bit did sound like a better idea than trying to cheer him up with your British manners, if you could say. He did not look happy about that.

Staring at the emptiness of your black coffee (and almost gagging at the rough taste), you swallowed the smothering ache in your heart. What was it you were yearning for?

You couldn't place in your mind the exact reason behind this suffering, but you soon grew tired of it. With a pair of eyes following your figure left unnoticed, you dragged yourself up to your room to somehow get ready.

"What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know man. Shouldn't you be locked up in your room like Stark- and he's gone. Thanks for the chat, popsicle."

This was boring, wasn't it? It was raining outside. Perhaps if you were in a rom-com you'd be soaked wet, lightheartedly dancing with a cover of dreamy clouds in the sky, glancing at your boyfriend from time to time, pretending you didn't see his "this is the woman I'll marry" eyes consuming you entirely. However, you weren't the protagonist of a rom-com, much less of a poorly written fan fiction. Additionally, your dear boyfriend wasn't officially... well, your boyfriend, and he'd been ignoring you completely. Which hurt, but your pride defeated your consciousness and you didn't want to talk to him about it.

Then, an idea took place in your mind. You had an opportunity to get back your not-much-of-a-boyfriend, the Captain's shy smile and your fun. Some might say even something more along the way.

"I AM DONE. COMPLETELY, UTTERLY DONE."

You slammed the door of Natasha's office, ignoring the frightening look she gave you and pointed to the chair right in front of you with questioning eyes.

"You slammed my door shut, might as well."

Your eyes dropped unnoticeably. Someone would have noticed though, only he wasn't there.

"I gotta do something. Would you help me with it?."

"What would I help you with, exactly? Y/N, if this is one of your unsettled plans..." She leaned back on the chair, tapping the desk with her bare fingernails.

"No! You can trust me on this, Nat. Please do. I'll buy you some nail polish."

"What?"

"WHAT?" Tony on the verge of an anxiety attack wasn't exactly how you thought this plan would go, even though him finding out was not part of it as well.

"Boss, your heart rate is increasing critically."

"Vacation's over. FRIDAY, let's go back to the compound."

You could hear their voices on the other end of the line.

You still didn't utter a word, already having made the mistake of asking your dad when he was bound to return from his "job thing" in Rome. You shouldn’t have said that, because "you never care about it", so it was either a party you were planning or a date. Besides, you might've mentioned the mission that you later remembered, you weren’t supposed to know about.

Your leg was trembling now, having realized the crap mistake you made. "Well shit."

"Y/N!"

"Oh, forgot you were still on. Love you, Dad, bye."

Natasha gawked at you, shaking her head slightly, arms crossed in front of her. This plan was a massive mistake. But it was your plan and you wouldn’t give up on it.

Around noon, Stark made his entry into the structure and went straight to your room, knocking on the door half a time and anchoring his feet to the ground with every step. Hiding your uneven breath, and thanking Nat for her wise advice ("just play sick", she said), you raised the sheets over your painted red nose.

Your dad searched for you in your cosy bedroom, just to find your teary innocent eyes full of greed for success. Maybe you did have a fever.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were sick? I thought you were gonna run off to a party or something you kids do."

You shifted under the covers. Shit. That was the plan after all. You were going to coerce Steve into partying with you somewhere you knew Loki would find you, like perhaps that club just around the corner where he wore that leather jacket once. Big story. Regardless, it didn't mean much now that he just vanished from your life.

"I wouldn't have gone anywhere."

An aching cough caught your breath. You tried to keep your eyebrows from furrowing at the actual symptom. You never got sick. Not really, at least.

Tony's eyes were clouded with worry, not liking the sight of you in pain.

"This is what we'll do, kid. You get some rest and I'll have Steve make you some tea."

You sniggered: "Just don't call it a cuppa."

As soon as he left the room, Natasha came out of the bathroom. Your eyes felt heavy, but your mind was still somewhere else.

"You'd make a great actress, has anyone told you that?" she grinned. You liked Nat, especially when you knew she was comfortable enough to enjoy spending time with you. She was your first real friend here at the compound. Your father would keep you hidden here when you were younger, and even though he tried his best to never make you feel like you were alone, he wasn't around much, and always left you with Pepper or Happy, who you now knew as your mother and uncle.

You coughed once again, this time harder, and brought a hand on your chest.

Nat stared at you for a little while.

"You're ill."

"Yeah. And the sun's coming out. This day just couldn't get worse. Did I just manifest getting sick?"

When she stood up from the little chair that was at the side of your bed, she gave you a comforting smile, and then she left, leaving you in Morpheus' arms to fall asleep.

"Do you think perhaps it is best to wake her?"

"Don't be foolish, brother. She is much better like this."

"You mean she's comfortable?"

"I mean she's bearable."

"Ughh."

"Perfect! Lady Y/N, you seem to have awakened."

You looked at the Norse brothers standing at the feet of your bed, still feeling dizzy from your remarkable nap. You hadn't slept this good in a while.

"Thor. Yes. Woken u-uh..p." You stood up. You looked at them. You glanced at them once again.

"OH MY GOD." You quickly covered your face with your hands. Gods, Loki was in your room. He wasn't looking at you, but he was in your room. You could feel his coldness reaching up to your veins - and heart, not only making you feel sick in your stomach but also causing a complementary shameful headache.

"Is uhm... something wrong, Y/N?" Thor's warm voice grounded you slightly but never enough.

With a shallow breath, you released your hands, dropping them along with your head. Looking at the silk white sheets, you wondered if strangling yourself with them would solve anything.

"No, thank you, Thor. Could you just give me a minute to uhm... I need to uh... powder my nose."

He smiled. "Ah yes of course. We'll be in the kitchen."

Your breath hitched. You had to do something.

"Wait!" They altered their steps, this time you looked directly into Loki's ice-blue eyes. "Gotta speak. I mean- I- 'd like to speak to Loki. For a minute. If possible."

Thor adjusted the weight on his feet and then nodded, sizing the room with his comfortable aura.

The instant he left, that same energy vanished, leaving you and that subjugating man to war. A conflict formed of rivalry, an uneasy sense of fear for all that was yet to be said and a deep, desperate need for each other in all ways known to your kind.

You soon grew tired of the dreadful silence. "Are you gonna say anything or shall I speak first?"

"Speak." He kept on staring at the window.

You debated if getting out of the bed would be better for this argument.

"Don't. And there will be no such thing as an argument. I'm not going to force your decision."

You blinked at him. What? Did the ice get to his head?

"Pardon? What decision? And who gave you permission to read my mind, Loki? You left me. Alone. You didn't speak to me for a week. Like... out of nowhere. Just like that- What. Decision." You did get out of bed, now showing your white lace robe to him. If he were looking at you, you'd have felt naked under his gaze.

He kept silent for a while and you did not once stop beholding him.

"I thought you wished not to see me again." He finally witnessed you, completely, entirely, just like you knew he would. Just the way you longed for.

"Why? When did you ever get that impression from me? If I did something wrong please tell me but don't just... don't go away from me."

He attentively took a few steps closer to you. It looked menacing but you knew he was just calculating your next move. He was the prey. But it was you who kept still.

"The bar." The bar?

"What bar?"

"Last week, you brought me to a place. I wore a leather jacket."

Your eyes instantly watered a bit.

"Loki..."

"No. My actions were unnecessary and I shouldn't have- I-."

You broke, fully. You gave in to your heart and hurried to him, still too far across the room. You wrapped your trembling hands around him and almost fell whilst doing so. But he held you mightily, adapting to your action like a lock when it finds its key.

"Lokes... why'd you think that?" You tucked your face in his green and golden armour. "I lo- I know you didn't mean that. You didn't do anything wrong. Please. Is that why you weren't speaking to me anymore?"

Glancing up at him, your gazes met, lost in each other like you could both find your way home. "Yes."

You smiled softly. "Don't do that again. Just talk to me next time."

"There won't be a next time". At that, you frowned. Would he never go out with you again?

"What d'you mean?"

He caressed your cheek, hidden emotions revealed by the trembling of the movement.

"I'll do my best to not do you wrong ever again. It is a promise I'll keep as close to my heart as a dagger."

You giggled dreamily. "Please don't put a knife to your heart."

He moved you closer to his touch. "I won't. But if I do it'll be you who holds the handle."

"You cheeky bastard." And to that, he kissed you ardently, air unneeded for your lungs to work.

N/A: Any idea on what might’ve happened at the club? Also… Loki in a leather jacket.

#loki friggason #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki fandom #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel movies #thor the dark world #thor odinson #tony stark #natasha romanoff

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