#wrote this a while ago and tried putting it up on other past blogs...

[akunoniwa]

Doctor's Note

Synopsis: In which you get diagnosed and treated by your local Dr. Demon

Pairing: Gaap (Ars Goetia) x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, essentially just... demon fucking...

WC: ~4.5k

He’d already know your body too well, exactly where to touch and how, seeing as he’s a seasoned doctor. It didn’t matter that you’d only visited him just this once, he knew exactly what ailed you. 

An excuse.

You’d read all about him, as you’d heard he takes phenomenal care of his patients, but an unusual sense of pride kept you from submitting to your curiosity. Until now.

“It’s strange…” He began, his voice buoyant despite its density. He’d done all of the typical procedures, asking about your medical history, taking your blood pressure, but he feigned ignorance of your real intent. He wanted to entertain your coyness, as it’s nothing new… But you seemed particularly delectable, as he recognized you’re not one easily swayed.

His wanting to change the subject naturally had you alert, waiting for him to continue with suspended brows.

“You’d made this appointment with an air of reasoning as if I’d find something wrong?” His eyes did not raise, as his gaze was focused on his pen lacing ink into quick, ornate letters on the report. The sound of the dextrous and hasty ballpoint imprinting strings of words onto the page somehow spoke of his personality to you… It was oddly fascinating to watch.

You were skeptical of this remark, as you’d made no obvious note of this being your motive, it’s merely a regular physical, “I just haven’t been keeping up with my health, and you were recommended to me…”

He gently huffed out what almost seemed to be a smug scoff, setting his clipboard on the counter behind him. You still sat propped up on the observation table, feeling almost infantilized by the way your feet barely reached the step-down.

“There’s just one last step, I need to check your lungs and heart…” You noted that he didn’t keep the stethoscope around his neck but rather it was hung on the wall. 

Within your reading up on him, you were quickly put on to why he was so ‘renowned’. Yes, he was genuinely an accomplished scholar, particularly in women’s health, but… Men and women alike would rave about how he’d ‘take care of them’ like no one else… You couldn’t snuff these thoughts out as he neared you from the side.

“If I may pry, who recommended me?” He hesitated to place the diaphragm against you. You felt disgusted by the way you were becoming increasingly aware of his proximity. 

“Just a coworker, we were chatting about how negligent I am when it comes to my doctor visits… I know I need to pay more attention.” You gave an earnest response, trying to dilute any suggestive thoughts, though they were growing unbearably potent.

He hummed in acknowledgment with a considering pout, carrying on with checking your upper back, the cold of the bell piece cutting through your blouse, “Deep breath in…” He guided, almost lifting you with his voice

“And despite having a previous physician, you chose me?” He paused, “Breathe out.” He repositioned the diaphragm slowly against your back. He noticed your breath was tense instantly, trying to stifle any satisfaction in this. Your heart rate undeniably went up as he neared questionable territory with his interrogating.

“I was intrigued, my last doctor was not the most compassionate.” Your reasoning was quick, perhaps justified, but he liked the way your breath hitched as he moved around your back.

“One last breath in…” His voice rose as if he was holding the same breath, “And out.”

He rounded to your front, standing before you, “Just breathe as you normally would here.” He placed the piece in the center of your chest as you tried to avoid looking directly at his face. He was so close, you were in his sphere of scent, a delicately botanic, smoky kind.

“I said to breathe normally.” He asserted again with a small grin, “You just cannot seem to relax…”

“A doctor’s office isn’t particularly comforting.” Your eyes shot as far away from seeing his expression as possible, your cheeks tarnished with faint embarrassment.

“Is that what it is? Your blood pressure was entirely normal earlier… Perhaps there is something amiss with you…” His words dragged and coiled around you, reminiscent of his handwriting, aptly stringing you along.

You’ve been caught, pressing your lips together in a bashful attempt to not say something ridiculous, “And what might that be.” You maintained a level tone as best as you could.

He still held the scope in place, enjoying how you writhed, your breaths smaller, not so much frantic, but unsteady. He was surely staring at your face from his elevated angle, you could feel his gaze on you as if you were an ant under a magnifying glass.

His prior facade of professionalism dropped elegantly like a theater curtain, heavy as he leaned into you, his lips inches from your ear, “You know exactly why you came here, how long would you like to continue rehearsing this scene?”

Your frenzied heart rate was enough to drive him wild, but he knew how to keep tempo.

“... I…,” You were at a loss, not wanting to hear much more of your meek voice. His heat radiated over your whole body, voice seeping into you.

“I’ll show you compassion just this once,” His words were bowed with an audible grin, “Only if you can report to me what exactly brought you here. Truly.” He finally hung the scope to idle around his neck, wanting to hear your every syllable, even if they wavered.

Your words certainly didn’t come easily, “I was curious why you’d received such appraise… And I wanted to find out for myself.”

“You know what I am and what I do, and still sit here as if I have to evaluate you to find out your pitiful deficiencies.” You hadn’t noticed your legs instinctually parted to allow him closer, “You want me to assess your body, in more ways than one.”

“Is this not malpractice, you acting this way, doctor?” Your voice had surely withered under the weight of anticipation.

He was more moved by your calling him ‘doctor’ than he should have been, as it’s something he hears all the time… Your voice, strained and borderline needy, rearranged the word in his mind, “I’ll give you any version of malpractice you prefer, darling.” He finally distanced his face to align with yours, seeing your slipping guise from inches away.

“What would you prescribe to someone with my so-called pitiful deficiencies?” You playfully continued the bit, you both intertwined in the teasing like strands of a rope.

“Hmm… I may need a closer look, after all, just to ensure… May I?” You were caught off guard by his genuine concern about touching you.

“I can’t just go home untreated, can I? Whatever you need to do to cure me of these deficiencies, please…” You realized you’d properly left your decency and pride tied to a light post outside of the clinic.

He took in a breath himself, overwhelmed by your eager presence… No demon should have this much power without checks and balances… He salivated at the thought of ravaging you, tipped by your trailed ‘please’.

His hand, gloved in blue latex, rose to rest against your cheek as he showed you a doting look, “Stand up for me…”

You managed to still have a tinge of reservation, hesitating for barely a second. But, you both knew why you were here, there were no secrets to hang onto. You obliged as his hand fell, he stepped back allowing you some room. You had to admit, you were susceptible to his towering height as he scanned over you, somehow the silence served more to tension than awkwardness.

“To ascertain accurate results… These lovely clothes just won’t do, I regret to say…” He continued his character pretending to be upset by this. He stepped into you once again, an index finger pulling at your belt to undo the buckle, snaking it off of you through the loops. Even the mere sensation of this in tandem with your anticipation was starting to gnaw at you.

Along with the stethoscope, he hung your belt around his neck, “Perhaps this could be useful… Go ahead and strip for me darling, this could serve my research well.”

You committed to this energy, removing everything that clouded your bare form as he watched, head cocked observingly as he leaned back against the counter. Only the sound of clothes slipping against skin flooded the space. His eyes swayed and lingered over every detail, his hands anchored to the counter’s edge at either side of him, looking nonchalantly imposing.

“Any prognosis?” You called to him as he had to tear his eyes from your body.

“Oh, it’s severe, seeing as you just willingly stripped naked for someone of my ilk.” He closed in on you again, unable to resist playing with you.

His rubbery hands reached to entrap you, starting from your ribcage, thumbs briefly brushing over your nipples. He spared no specific attention to any one thing, sliding down over your waist, to your hips. He watched his hands as you watched his faded eyes, even his blinks were languid as he felt you observing him.

“Turn around.” It was an order, but his voice still floated above your head as you obeyed, turning in his grasp.

He hummed, pleased as his touch rose to your shoulders, then dragged torturously to your ass. Although you were not instructed, it felt as if you were once again holding onto a breath, releasing as composed as you could manage as his hands groped your flesh, “These are quite nice… Typically they look better in a red… Or maybe…” His words wandered off to somewhere unknown, a hand rising to push at your upper back, forcing you to bend forward.

“You’re very compliant, darling.” You felt an acidic wave of lust roll through you at his thoughtless praise.

By the silence, you judged he was certainly made aware of your most deficient parts, your cunt probably more obviously intrigued than anything else.

“Hmm… This is most likely where your problem lies…” A latex-clad finger made faint contact with your clit, causing your thighs to twitch at the attention, to which he chuckled through his nose, “Severe indeed.” His hand pushed you down further causing you to be on maximum display as his feather-light touch grazed up to find your glistening hole. You bit your lip, but harder on a groan you attempted to constrict.

“Don’t hold back, I need you to communicate with me so I can know what’s wrong.” You were still caught up by how nice his fanned hand forcing you down onto the observation table made you feel, let alone his meandering touch. You could envision how lewd it looked, the image making you falter.

His index finger still lingered around your hole in no particular manner, as if he was genuinely taking note of your anatomy, “Surely you’re aware… Typically when your cunt is this soaked…” His upper half leaned over your folded form, wringing you out with his heady demeanor, “It means you desire something desperately.”

Your head inadvertently raised to try and close any gap between you, craning up in aroused dejection. You could feel him pressed against you, he was undoubtedly having his fun.

“Does this align with your symptoms?” A hand wound under your left arm, snaking to wrap underneath your jaw, forcing you closer to his voice, “Tell me.”

“Yes, doctor.” You choked out, noticing his eyes bloom when you called him that earlier, you decided to use your own trump card.

He groaned above you, his voice blanketing you, “There’s only one thing I know of to treat cases like yours…” He pushed his hips ever so slightly into your backside causing your eyes to flicker, “But you self-diagnosed before you even came to my clinic… Dirty little thing.”

He lifted himself to straighten, “It’s phenomenal, this human form… But it seems you are more excited by my barbaric, obscene interior…” A pair of fingers played at your hole once again, barely pushing into you, “You can’t be satiated by just a human… You want something more. Something diabolic.” Slowly, his fingers progressed as he continued to whirl on, driving you mad with his words.

He could feel that you were clenching, smiling with amusement, “Is this true? You’d prefer to be fucked by a beast like myself?”

How you’d answer that outright, you were initially unsure, but his fingers curled down, adeptly pushing into a perfect spot, “I-I… Yes, I would.” You loved the idea of him fucking you with his latex gloves, something about how sterilizing and surgical it felt.

“You’d like that?” He pressed, establishing a crawling pace with his hand.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Your cunt is so hot and wet, darling, you may just melt these gloves off…” He mused, basking in your pleasure.

You couldn’t help but let your body sway into his fingers, meeting his pace. Your whole being was throbbing, letting your satisfaction leave you as pants. You were growing more desperate to cum, wanting to coat his fingers with your release, though he pulled his hand away.

“Stand and turn for me, darling,” You did so, though slowly so as to not underestimate your delirium, forced to make eyes with him as he tasted you, “Utterly divine, you taste so sweet…”

You couldn’t help but feel scorn towards him, being made to watch him clean your juices thoroughly from his fingers, “Jesus…” He looked gorgeous, just like that.

“Not quite.” He jested, his fingertips reaching to play at your bottom lip until you allowed access, taking his lithe fingers in your mouth. He watched you intently, beyond himself as it set in that such a pretty little human would stoop so eagerly down to his level.

He gradually pulled his hand away, watching the way your lips wrapped so nicely until the heat of your mouth was but a ghost. He painted a trail of your saliva down your chin, making a mess of you, “Your breasts are lovely too, I must say.” 

He stretched his gloves off, exposing skin with markings that resembled black, veiny cracks. You were not repulsed, quite the contrary, his skin looked like a glass mosaic, his bare hands cupping your breasts. Feeling the rough texture of his skin against yours only amplified his effect.

“Your reactions are too much for me, it’s making it hard for me to keep composure…” He played at your nipples between his thumb and index, making you squirm.

“I didn’t come here for your composure.” You placed your hands on his kintsugi skin, hoping to urge him on.

“I am… well aware, darling.” His hands left you, shouldering off his lab coat, setting your belt to still be within reach, “You’ll need to be fucked back into health.”

As he continued to remove his work attire, he continued to reveal his increasingly onyx skin, the closer to his chest, the more dense the black. It was incredible, you couldn’t help but gawk, to which he smirked almost sheepishly, “Why don’t you sit pretty for me back on the table…”

You were balancing on his every command at this point, loving the feeling that embraced your body in this moment. You hopped back up on the table to face him, spreading your legs to taunt him. He moved routinely to his lower half, adoring how you watched as his trousers fell for him to push aside along with his shoes. You wouldn’t say you were shocked, but his cock was surely not human, three knots that staggered in increasing size from his tip to the base. Immediately, the irresistible thought of him pushing you open, feeling those crevices move your insides… You didn’t think you could grow any wetter.

“I love that expression you’re wearing… The only thing I’ll allow.” His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his bulbous length. You had a paradoxically innocent urge to simply stroke him, of course never having seen this before. You felt sordid for being turned on at the sight of him touching himself right before you.

You took it upon yourself to let a hand find your clit, seeing if this would induce any reaction from him. It most certainly did, an inferno sparked in his chest, let alone his cock, as he watched you play with yourself so deviantly. He was debating… Should he keep dragging you around with his antics… Or are you in such a grave state that you must be cured right this instant? His own heart raved at the possibilities, mind flooded with a mirage of your pretty body doing such horrific things for him.

“What’s on your mind…?” He asked, his hand still cycling in a fluid motion in a stalemate.

“You.” You grinned, “What’s this cure you spoke of?”

Your being direct stoked him, causing him to chuckle deep from his chest, “I think I need to cure you until you’re properly bedridden, darling.”

You pushed your middle and ring finger into your beckoning cunt as you propped a leg up on the table, causing his eyes to immediately shoot to yours, almost in warning, “Please, doctor, I’m at your mercy.”

He let out an undeniable scoff this time, taking a few steps to near you as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away, “I fucking hate how you call me that.” He aligned the tip of his alien-looking cock with your hole, that being enough to send shockwaves through you, “Keep doing it.” 

He decided to channel his teasing into you, only pushing his girthy tip inside at a molasses pace, finally coaxing out the most beautiful sounds from you. You both had unanimous thoughts of how good the other felt, your pussy was impossibly soft and plush, his length surprisingly velvety as he angled himself to hit that same delicious spot. You felt your hole stretch around his first, modest knot as he’d continuously remove himself completely to shove himself back inside you.

“Do you think you need more? How do you feel, darling?” His hand gripped your thigh that still rested on the table, squeezing out your reply.

“It feels so good, doctor, but…”

He was awed by the fact you could still be embarrassed to express your needs, he found it almost endearing, “But…?” He pulled out to admire his tip glistening with your creamy slick, waiting for you.

He was going to make you say it, regardless. Even just the sight of his shaft that curved upward so enticingly made you quiver, “I need more.” God, you sounded so whiny and small.

His strong grip on your thigh was alarming, but not unexpected as his first knot slid in with ease once more, though the second demanded more of you. Paired with the stretch, he was starting to push fairly deep into you, finally starting to reorganize your insides as you imagined. You couldn’t tie down a labored ‘fuck’ as he began to thrust at a steady pace. Every time he pushed back into you, an indescribably foreign feeling of being perfectly spread by each knot exploded inside you. You decided to place your hands on his shoulders to keep balance as he hunched over your starved form.

Your moans were of a heavenly timbre he’d never know otherwise as he experimented with pace and angle to see which would make you sing. Your wetness coated the very beginning of his final, large knot as he thrust into you, but you couldn’t imagine it actually managing to fit. Because of its shape, his cock accentuated the squelches from your cunt, the crude sounds seeming to bounce off the walls.

He found another spot deep inside you, concocting a burn, itch, smolder… Every sensation was being triggered as he sheathed into you repeatedly, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, “You can’t even cry… How adorable…” His hand found your cheek once more as his eyes seemed to reach into you, cradling your gaze.

He wasn’t unfazed, in fact, your broken moans were like shards of glassy pleasure in his lower abdomen, he felt deific as he took you. And you took him so well… He’d almost plead to the gods himself if it meant that you’d clench onto him like this eternally. For a demon, he was quite considerate, as he’d never force you, but he wanted so desperately for you to absorb all he had, his final knot prodding at your cunt.

His hands slid to your knees, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso, lifting you as soon as you followed. Gravity lent itself to the intensity as you were slammed down onto him, his hands spread on either side of your ass. While you found yourself nearly unable to make a sound, finally he seemed to begin to crack, his deep moans touching a whole new kind of place inside you.

“You look so cute, your wasted expression…” He held you with one arm wrapped around your back, his other hand playing with your lips, “I wonder how sweet you look when you cum…?”

You could only give him an imploring look, your body being split open.

“My sick little darling…” You felt his final knot manage to slip in a bit further, causing you to cry out in pleasure, “Cum on my cock…” His voice wavered in time with his thrusts.

If you were to refer to any orgasm as explosive, this could be the only one, having never been spread that wide. Luckily he could easily support your form as you convulsed and shattered around him. You could almost immediately be thrown over again as his last knot slipped entirely inside your cunt.

“F-fuck, darling–” He stammered, his face contorted with frustration as he tried not to cum just yet wanting to prolong this moment. You felt so complete as he held you, your head resting on his void for a chest, warming his knots. You wanted to feel his searing load paint your insides, but he merely held your hips in place as you felt his cock tremble inside you.

He managed to move, setting you back down on the table letting you lay back.

“How do you feel…?” His words sounded as if they were squashed and dragged under a shoe, so incredibly tense as he gave your gleaming body a once… or twice over.

You couldn’t control how your cunt continued to squeeze, “So good…”

He wanted more. More of your voice, more of your touch. He decided to pull out, painstakingly slow, somehow, much to his surprise, managing not to implode. You both shared a groan of delight as the sliding friction tore at each other. A ring of your creamy sweet decorated the base of his cock, he watched as your wetness seemed to pour from you as he vacated your hole.

You wanted him to feel good… You had a fiery urge to ensure he was satisfied, almost to a point of not being able to recognize your own mind’s voice.

“Can you stand up one last time… for me?” He sounded pathetic… No human had ever obliterated his senses like this before, he didn’t think it was possible. He found humans to be amusing little toys… Not that you weren’t, but…

You obliged without question, watching as he turned away briefly to grab your belt. Of course his body was chiseled, something he knew appealed to mortal toys like yourself, you got another chance to study him until he faced you again.

He grabbed your wrists, binding them with your belt, and raised them above your head in one hand. He turned you with his other, walking you to the landscape window in his third-story office, having always wanted to do something like this. A foot or two away, he stopped, pressing your top half forward at your wrists, the side of your face and breasts pressed against the freezing glass. You felt so shameless… And so empty as you waited for him to fill you.

“Do you like being humiliated?” His familiar tip danced at your used hole, “Answer.” His domineering words ignited you.

“By you.” You answered candidly, words slightly distorted from your face being held against the window.

“Such a good, slutty little patient you are.” He plunged the entirety of his cock back into you swiftly, obsessed with how his largest knot was absorbed so easily.

“I want you to cum inside me, doctor…” You whined impatiently, completely lost in him.

“I’m sure you fucking do.” His words were shredded between his teeth, “You’d love that. I wish someone could see how fucking bad you want my cum.”

“Please…” You urged him to move, still in disbelief that he buried himself so far.

He was nearly at his own wit’s end, thrusting himself up into you, his hips colliding forcefully against your ass. His free hand was soldered to your waist, ensuring you remain as a statue in this unpleasant pose, it being uncomfortable somehow adding to the storm surge brewing inside you.

“Are you going to cum again, darling?” Your eyes were squeezed shut, just nodding worthlessly against the glass as he cooed so sinfully. “I love seeing you dance so beautifully on my cock, give me all of you.”

His tactic of plunging his entire length into you repeatedly was something you were particularly susceptible to, his knots rolling effortlessly through you, “Fuck… Yes...” His voice was as smoky as his scent, fogging your mind. He slammed into you one final time, holding you tightly against him as you both reached your highs. His thick seed was so hot, coating your walls so deliciously, his pants raining down against your back. You felt strangely resolved like you had served a divine purpose by receiving his cum so impossibly deep.

He pulled your body close by your bound wrists, his chest flush with your back, potting sweet kisses from your neck to your shoulder. It felt as if you could nearly be bound to his pelvis from how tightly you were wound around his shaft. A hand dragged down, letting your arms finally rest as he delicately caressed your breasts, your head falling back against the top of his chest.

“I think you may need a follow-up evaluation,” He cracked softly near your ear, “Your case is particularly serious.”

#wrote this a while ago and tried putting it up on other past blogs... #gaap #ars goetia #monster fucker #monster smut #demon smut #demon x fem!reader #demon x reader #作文

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Words are being put in my mouth by some anonymous messages and some very unkind assumptions are being made.

Very long post under the cut-

I need all of you to understand that I'm playing this by ear. Longtime followers will know that every so often I will make a post about a new rule because something was brought to my attention.

Upon the creation of this blog, I had no idea what rules would be needed to foster a safe environment. Therefore, I added rules as things came up.

If memory serves, at the start of this blog, I didn't have any rules and that worked fine for quite a while because no one submitted anything that was harmful. As time went on, that of course didn't last and sadly people submitted things with slurs and other harmful language.

I admit I've made mistakes. A transmisogynistic slur made it onto this blog, which was quickly called out by a follower (thank you for that!) and I removed the submission in question.

When I posted my new pinned post with a list of rules and guidelines, I asked for input. I cannot predict every possible scenario so I admittedly rely on followers of this blog to call out things they think are inappropriate. Which is why when I received the recent message informing me that they found a submission to be offensive, I took it very seriously.

I will admit, I genuinely don't remember queuing the submission in question. It was likely submitted about two weeks ago and I have no idea what my thought process was when I saw it and accepted it. I don't want to make excuses, but I will say that I sometimes queue submissions when I'm not in a place where I should be doing so, such as when I'm extremely tired, or just woke up and still bleary, or after I've taken medication to make me sleepy.

I have made mistakes before when going through submissions when I shouldn't. I've accidentally posted things instead of queuing them, for example, or I've misread what someone wrote in a way that caused issues. I have been trying to do better about that as of late and not go through submissions when my judgement is impaired. I don't know if that was the case for the submission in question. I genuinely don't know. I am just sharing some of the mistakes I've made in the past and telling you I will try to do better in the future.

Though I don't remember my thoughts when I queued the submission in question, I do remember queuing other posts that made me personally uncomfortable when I read them.

I'm a bit torn here, which I tried to voice in my other posts on the subject. On one hand, I want people to feel free to talk about their thoughts and feelings. But on the other, I don't want those thoughts or feelings to cause harm to others. I've queued posts that made me personally uncomfortable (because I felt they insulted something about me) because I didn't want to censor people here. I didn't know how or if I should make a rule about such things. I didn't know how to handle it, so I went ahead and queued things that I found offensive to me personally, hoping that if others found it offensive as well they would let me know. Since no one did, I hoped that meant that I alone was made uncomfortable and thus it was an okay thing to have on the blog.

When the submission in question was brought to my attention initially, I immediately felt uncomfortable in how it was worded. I'm not fond of anything that calls something or someone gross.

I asked for suggestions on how to handle the subject on the initial post because, as I stated earlier, I do rely on followers of this blog to tell me how things make them feel and suggest ways to improve. This is a blog for the community so I always prioritize feedback, especially when I genuinely don't know how to handle the situation.

As stated earlier, I don't want to censor people's experiences. This is a place people should feel free and open to talk about their monsterfucker journey. But at the same time, I do not want the sharing of those experiences to hurt others. Which is why I asked for input. I received a lovely suggestion about making a rule that essentially means "don't yuck someone else's yum" and that is what I added to the list of rules and guidelines.

Ideally, I want people to be able to voice their preferences in a way that doesn't insult others. I hope that in the future, that can be done.

As for the deleting of the submission in question: I've been accused of deleting it in order to hide the full situation. That is not true at all. I deleted it because it was offensive to multiple people. I have not deleted any posts on the subject. I am not trying to hide anything I've said or done.

And in fact, I haven't deleted the post at all. It's been made private. You can view it here, if you wish to have a full understanding of the situation.

As for the other accusation thrown my way:

I don't think I ever stated that "this is a you problem." The post in question made me uncomfortable as well when it was brought to my attention and I 100% agree that it was inappropriate and offensive.

My issue with one of the messages I received is that I simply disagree that discussions about the human body are off topic for the subject of monsterfucking. A suggestion was made that I should have a blanket ban on any mentions of the human body in a positive, neutral or negative light and I cannot get on board with that as I feel that in many cases our views of human bodies influences our monsterfucking journey.

I hope future submissions can word such influences in ways that are not insulting to other people. I will do my best to not accept submissions that are worded similarly to the one in question.

Thank you all for your feedback and patience during this situation. I am always trying to improve this blog so that it is a place for all sorts of monsterfuckers to come together and share their thoughts. I apologize for not always succeeding in this and I do genuinely greatly appreciate when people call out my mistakes so that I can endeavor to do better in the future.

💖

#housekeeping #not a confession #long post

[jlf23tumble]

Hiii hope you won’t mind this ask! I just found your blog and i’ve gone over it a bit and I saw you talking about h and l not being together and it made me curious about your larry thoughts!! You can answer in the tags if you don’t want to start discourse but I hope you do answer:((!

I don’t know if you think they’ve been together in the past/never together or just don’t care about it cause scrolling through Tumblr is a nightmare and I can’t see all your posts obviously ahaha but personally I thought they were together and I think they might have broken up in the last year or so. I got a strong sixth sense in general if you could call it that and lately I can sense something is different and I can see some people feel the same but don’t really discuss it openly so I wanted to hear your opinion.

The last thing that made me ‘sure’ they were still a thing while looking at the previous 12 years was harryween with hopelessly devoted to you and then Louis quoting it at his grease fav. After that I can’t really see something that makes me think “at that point they must have been together cause otherwise it wouldn’t make sense”. And paired it up with louis in particular being a bit strange in the last few months and with what you pointed out as well namely Harry doing everything he can to not be even thought to be on tour with L… As I said I don’t know when you started talking about a break up, but do you think that halloween’s occurance was still them being together or teasing each other from a distance or maybe just keeping larries at bay? And would you mind telling me then when you think their situation changed and what you think now? Sorry it’s so longggg and thank you if you take time to answer me <3

Helllllllo, I never mind any kind of ask! Granted, sometimes I might not answer but only because I'm overwhelmed, or it's the same ask in a row, or I'm not loving a sentence, or I just don't feel like it, or I think a bathroom shot is more appropriate, lmao, but this one? I got all the time in the world for you…so much so that I'll put it under the cut, since the ask is long enough itself, as shall the answer be!

Welcome to this mess, and wow, I'm so bowled over you even tried to scroll, I know trying to search tumblr.biz is a loser's lover's game, even for the loser lover who wrote it, so I won't even bother, but we can start fresh!

So my thoughts: Hell yeah, I think these two were together back in the day, probably almost immediately (see: the entire x-factor scandale with the blinds about all the fucking, the stairs interviews, ALL OF IT, screammmm). I don't know how long or even IF they were strictly monogamous, they were in a pressure cooker situation of near-constant contact with each other for five years, but I do think it eventually morphed into something open and/or then into a messy on again/off again situationship. That’s my current stance today, in fact—c'est messy!!!!

I’ll do the usual caveat that none of us actually KNOWS them, though, or what went down, we're only looking at what we see (and hear) and making a wild guess, and yet! Plenty of people see (and hear) the same thing and opt for a crazy reach with their whole chest, all to justify something happening between teenagers 13 years ago as if NOTHING would or could have changed since then. And some of those reaches make literally no sense, or they wash away anything that gets too close to that third rail of cognitive dissonance, the proverbial fingers in ears, lalalalala. I saw it recently on a post I made about clingy Harry with a stranger on the drunk WeHo trolley, with someone in the tags going, wait, I’ve never seen this! Of course you haven’t, that’s what an echo chamber does, bb!

Personally, I don't get that mindset—what’s so wrong about learning life is tough and things change for two literal strangers? Sure, we all love love and want the best for them, but shit happens in real life, too. Maybe it's easier to latch onto made-up receipts or straight up call a blue a green, but I think a big aspect of it is also the need to be right, to show you aren’t crazy, it’s real, and that gets frequently mixed in as being “supportive,” like you're some kind of homophobe if these two break up, as if two men fucking two other men somehow isn't worthy of your “support." But I’m here to say those two things actually can exist, something can be true in the past and not be true today, and it doesn’t negate the past bit, shocking, right?

Anyway, I digress. I feel like your sixth sense is on the money, and I'd love to hear more about it, either message me here or dm me about what tips you into that direction (hey!) because I feel like there is SO MUCH THAT DOES, yet few people really get into it. To me, it’s just a lot of content, so much content, the bare minimum being lyrics in multiple songs across a shit ton of albums, both solo and the very last 1D one. At this point, to me, Larry “proofs” sound insane (he wore green pants, they're MARRIED!!!!!), and part of me is like, kudos to you, Mr. Tomlinson, jesus loves you more than you will know, etc. Even that Harryween outfit of which you speak feels like a reach of a reach, a callback of a reach, mostly because it’s also not that deep, Grease isn't some tiny film nobody's seen, it's actually a remarkably easy group costume, AND it references things that could be nostalgic to two sets of people (larries and larry). I actually feel like these two at this point are either a) signaling to each other in some kinda way, like that monitor edgeplay shit they used to do (which works if you're together or apart, I might add), or b) cashing in some of that green blue green, if you feel me. And again, both of those could be true at once, they don't cancel each other out. I have two hands, I can hold a lotta thoughts!

It’s at this point where I start bangin’ the drum for garries because gaylors have it dead easy—you can be a gaylor and think that kaylor was a thing, but it doesn’t mean it’s STILL a thing to you, so whither garries!? I just don’t think a lot of today’s larries do themselves any favors by doubling down and driving out anyone who has questions. For the big ones, there’s no room for even whispering, hey, yeah, they were together, but they might have broken up, maybe??? It’s, like, NO!!! They’re mawwwwwwied, #husbands, they’ve only fucked one person, each other, let’s jump through a hoop that says Louis wearing green sweats is so LOUD (I’m not listening to lyrics, though, lalalalalala)!! It’s tragic and frankly dumb, but if you want to wallow in the persecution complex of it all, “everybody hates us ☹ (including Louis),” I guess the option is there, the whole us vs. them of it all that I’m just personally not into.

But I do feel like there’s some hope, it’s nice to see people coming around to the idea that, yeah, they WERE together and maybe they aren’t anymore, but it’s okay, it’s not the end of the world! It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, maybe they’ll reunite someday, or maybe it’s a goddamned hot mess, but you know what? Not my circus, not my monkeys! Granted, that part is harder for people who are mutuals with those who will not tolerate doubts even for a second—I just hope they venture off and find the other chill people, u know, the ones a lot of larries wish they saw on their dashes instead of hand-wringers, uh oh, oops, reaping = sowing.

I’m sorry, I’m ramblin’ here, let’s get back to your questions at the end of your ask! Do I think Harryween was them together or teasing each other or keeping larries at bay? Hmmmm, maybe a secret fourth thing: easy costume, easy global reference, and it’s not gonna keep larries at bay, lmao. Idk, man, for all we know (which, again, is literally nothing, nobody’s getting 24/7 content for 5 years straight anymore, such a bitter pill to swallow), maybe Grease is a fave movie of someone who’s in the new band, maybe Harry’s got a close personal friend who’s into it, too, maybe Louis's not the only guy in the world Harry’s dated who’s obsessed with Danny Zuko.

As for when do I think their situation changed, I think Eleanor was a big clue, breakup no. 1 was probably around their own breakup no. 1, she was an amazing proxy in so many ways, but I’m sure there were rifts and spats along the way (it even seeped into interviews that get written off as cute funsies or else are outright ignored because nobody watches beyond the gif format). I follow at least one person who talks about the '15 promo tour as giving very recent breakup energy, yet still has some fwb vibes, which means it's AWKWARD in spots, and I can see that. It would also explain why they were suddenly able to "sit together,” lol. Anyway, yes, that breakup (both times) was a big sign, I think no more peace ring was a HUGE sign, I think the writeups by Rob Sheffield (both of them, actually), especially the last paragraph of the Fine Line cover story was a NEON sign, and I think the last four albums by both of them spell it out, underline it, bold it, AND italicize it super clearly, but those are just the easy pickings (see also: Harry biking around daily to prove he’s not in Poland, Greece, etc., and the response is always, “We don’t know what day this was,” lmao).

What I think now is up above! I think it’s messy! Complicated! They aren’t #married! Now is that a forever thing? Who’s to say, and more importantly, who’s to really care on a “does this impacts my daily life in some kind of financial or spiritual way,” see further: circus, monkeys. I get that it’s easy to say, I interact with a lot of other people who don’t care and won't ostracize me for being a doubting Susan with my ~controversial thoughts and UOs. But there are those with faith in the future, so maybe it is as it was…hehe, oh me. I amuse myself, at least. Sorry this is an epic reply, and that it’s days late, I hope it gives you what you wanted to know! Anyone sending me garbage will get a bathroom response, peace and love.

#one direction #should i tag this larry receipts LMAO #burn that fucking fic tag to the ground

[inky-eclipse]

a response to jreg's loneliness video

note: wrote this ten thousand years ago, but figured i'd put it here since it's one of the few posts on my old blog.

when i initially watched the video, i sat there waiting for the “gotcha” moment where he’d turn around and be like “just kidding” or something. as i continued watching the video though, it slowly became apparent that moment was not coming.

i’ve never really thought about writing this type of response to a video, but i think how the video reflected some parts of what i felt in the past year is what pushed me to write.

he discussed that what pushed him to ditch his introversion was the posts he’d seen on the Ottawa reddit about how some people (jokingly i hope) wished COVID would go on forever so that they wouldn’t have to interact with people again. he figured if this is what introversion entails, he didn’t want a part in it anymore. girlbossing yourself into extroversion is a really post-COVID response. i’m somewhat introverted, but after COVID, i’ve noticed that i want to be around people a lot more frequently. i think the effects of severe isolation to humans is at least what partially drives this urge even if i know logically that i can’t accidentally isolate myself to that severe extent. i also related his adoption of extroversion. i usually get intp on Myers-Briggs, but once i started college, i tell people i’m entp. who’s going to stop me? the Myers-Briggs police? besides, i feel like i genuinely enjoy being around people for long periods of time when i like them. i guess i don’t want to tell people that i’m introverted and then have them assume i want to be alone all the time or that i would combust at a party.

when he started discussing the sediment around the soul or the unnatural distance he had experienced when trying to deeply connect with people, it didn’t ring any bells in my experience. then again, i don’t think i’ve given a shit in recent years about a person to the extent that he described so that probably has a lot to do with why the bells are stationary. the only thing that it somewhat reminded me of was how i usually tried to host study groups with folks, but usually nobody or one person would show up. it could be that nobody showed up cause it’s lame, but that repeated experience made me resonate with jreg’s frustration of constantly putting in legwork for nothing.

i continue to diverge from his experiences because while he laments about how he wishes he could just not have the need for genuine connections with others, i’m fine either way. however, it really hurt for a moment when it occurred to me that maintaining deeper, platonic connections is either out of my scope or might not be a thing a lot of people are looking for. since i grew up with solitary activities for the most part, i don’t, consciously at least, have this consistent need for a lot of close relationships. if i were to continue to have my acquaintance group, i think i’d be content. i wouldn’t have people i could talk to deeply when i’m upset, but i resist opening up to that extent to begin with.

that’s just me though. i didn’t appreciate his accurate comment on about how “if you see someone reading about happiness, it’s over for them”. i definitely didn’t read The Power of Fun and still have my detailed annotations.

#community #introversion #neurotic #loneliness #jreg #video essay response #is that even a tag

[slashingdisneypasta]

Human!Greasy Weasel x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: You're getting bothered by a man at work and Greasy sees... and gets pissed. I just wrote something similar regarding Mr Snake on my other blog so I thought, while the gears are still turning, I'll write some jealous Greasy ^^

Warnings: Harassment and Assault + Violence.

~

Your boyfriend was a giant sleaze- that was no secret. He took any opportunity to openly ogle a pretty woman or even get a few touches in, to their detriment. Now, you sure didn’t like it, but you got used to it. Besides, Smartass was nearly always there to bonk him on the head with something for it; Though the leader was more upset that it was ‘distracting him’… not that it was, you know… sexual harassment and assault.

But nevertheless- Greasy was the worst of the worst, you were convinced. Key word here being were.  

You are now reconsidering that, as a man at work stays on your damn coattails all night. Being a waitress at a pretty risqué bar (Not to mention Greasy Weasels girlfriend), you often dealt with rowdy assholes that tried to proposition you or stared way too long, or even tried to feel you up- but this man was starting to make even you uncomfortable. He had been bothering you for hours, now. Following you around obnoxiously trying to help you work but just getting your way, throwing his arm over you and grazing his knuckles over your clothed chest, trying to press his lips to your face-

It's enough! You aren’t a prostitute dressed up as a waitress- you aren’t for him- you’re trying to do your goddamn job and all he seems to care about is getting his hand up your skirt.

Which is absolutely not an option.

“Look, sir,” You decide to try again politely, one last time. Even if your tone is 30 degrees below freezing and your eyes reveal the worst glare you could muster at him. “I am trying to do my job- why don’t you go sit down, and order a beer from the bartender so I can do that. Yes?”

“Aww, come on now doll, don’t be like that! We’re just having a little fun! Don’t mean nothin’ by it… “Even as he says this, a large hand slides up your thigh and he give you a meaningful stare- full of ‘don’t worry, its okay darlin. I’ll make it look like you didn’t want it… but I know the truth.’. He winks, and you’re just about to punch the prick in the neck when I blur of green flashes past your eyes and suddenly theirs no hand on you at all- in fact the guy is on the floor.

“What- “You look around for that familiar green colour and find Greasy suddenly beside you, and sigh. “When did you get here?”

His face is darker then dark, eyes looking more like pools of black ichor in the dark bar lighting with his head lowered and the brim of his hat fallen over one eye- though it’s clear, he’s still looking at your harasser. He’s also muttering Spanish fast and growly. “No puedo creer esta mierda… bastardos tocando mi amor… debería- “Putting a hand to his arm and tugging at the material, you manage to get his attention; Tilting your head softly to the side. “2 minutes ago, cariño. Please tell me this filth hasn’t been like this all night.”

“Would it make you feel better?”

“It would, sí.”

Giving a frustrated sigh, you cross your arms. You can’t lie to him. “He… has been bothering me… for a while… But- Greasy!” Oh, shit!

Immediately your creep of a boyfriend lunges again, grabbing the man who’s still recuperating on the floor from the very sudden first blow, by the lapels of his dirty leather jacket and yanking him up; Shaking him repeatedly. “Quién crees que eres!? Ella es mía. Consigue uno propio-“

People are definitely starting to stare at the scene, and you facepalm in embarrassment. When Greasy pulls his arm back to punch the very discombobulated man directly in the kisser, you reach forward quickly drag him off- and away. “Alright!” That’s enough! You don’t feel like mopping blood off the floor tonight, thank you very much! “Greasy! Calm down!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

He actually growls, then, looking back to the dirty man now scrambling through the gathered crowd to get away. When he’s out of sight, the front door slapping closed behind him, Greasy’s hands find theirs places warmly, but territorially around your waist in order to pull you close to him; Glaring dangerously at onlookers. “… We’re going home now, cariño.”

Mouth falling open, you quickly go to argue- because your shift isn’t over so no, you are not going home right now- but then he looks to you with those eyes and… you stop. It’s not common at all to see him so utterly serious. He almost looks… scared. Man, that guy must really have made him feel threatened. Your body relaxes fast like a chemical reaction to your lover’s thinly veiled distress, and reach up to place a hand onto one of his shoulders, offering comfort. “… You know I didn’t like that, right Grease?” Your voice is quiet, speaking just to him as the rest of the bar slowly goes back to normal.

“… You like it when I do it to you.” He replies, explaining why exactly that scared him quite simply and you shake your head twice at it.

“First of all, babe… Most of the time I just put up with it when it comes to you.” Rolling your eyes, you link your fingers together around the back of his neck. “And second of all… I put up with it, because I love you. You’re my guy, and… sometimes I might enjoy the attention from you, as well, yes… but mostly, it’s because I love you.” To add to your point and lighten the mood, you also then point towards the door. “I don’t love that guy. Eugh.”

Finally, you feel Greasy’s shoulders relax and watch his expression lose its severe edge. He sighs. “You make a good point… okay… But we’re still going home.”

Gasping, you drop your jaw. “What!?- “

“I need to show you why you love me, no?” He smirks, and you deeply roll your eyes. Of course.

At least he’s back to normal.  

#Greasy Weasel x Fem!Reader Drabble #Greasy Weasel x Reader Drabble #Greasy Weasel x Reader #Greasy Weasel #Drabble #Greasy #Toon Patrol #Toon Patrol x Reader #Toon Patrol Greasy x Reader #Toon Patrol Greasy

[inlocusmads]

Hii, can I ask, do you plan on re-uploading your old works 🥺? If you're not comfortable with that it's totally okay you can delete this ask 💓

Hey Anon, thank you so much for sending this.

The short answer: I don't think I will be uploading my old works back here.

Here's a long answer:

The wonderful Lin from @ofmischiefandmedicine sent me several screenshots of my old work that I'd written before I, let's say, switched accounts. And it was such a thoughtful gesture. I believe others had also contributed to it but my memory failed me so if you have in any way helped me get through that very difficult time in my life, I'm very happy and I'm eternally grateful.

Unfortunately I won't be uploading my old works because of three reasons:

One -> my writing goals have drastically changed.

A lot of factors have shaped this, but I constantly aspire to improve. What I did before is still valid but I don't want it to be an albatross around my neck, pulling me down. There are a lot of works I am not proud of and some of my old stuff give me the yikes. I constantly want to change, improve and looking at my old works sort of confines me to this one box, if you know what I mean. The problem with that is, once you've found your home base or comfort genre, you'd seldom walk away from it. Me shutting the doors on the venomous stuff that is my past writing is a way for me to actually step forward, because the stuff I'd written in the past stemmed from things I am not too proud of. It feels like a good time to move on.

I know, I'd have wasted several hours trying to complete that project but I'm glad I left most of them incomplete. It was super hard to even make this decision, because I didn't know what I wanted. And though it might seem short-sighted, almost borderline inane, I can't think of a better way of dealing with the problem firsthand.

Two -> I can't retrieve them.

During that Rough Patch, I ended up clearing all of my Google Drive folders along with my blog and believe me, I've tried trying to access some of it. I can go down and track all the individual reblogs, see if I can copy-paste them but it just becomes too tedious of a job I don't want to engage in nor do I want anyone else to go through it. Plus I don't remember half of what I'd written in the past and I don't have a great enough starting point to look into. And to add to the aforementioned reasons, I just didn't want to go through it again and get into the mindset of someone who I was, a couple of months ago.

I'm sort of open about my mental health in small ways, but to sort of give away a short answer, I just can't go through it again. I know, they're just fanfictions, but they are some of the most tortured pieces of work I'd written. They might be happy but I wasn't always good when I wrote them down.

Three -> The fandom is getting smaller.

If I had only joined the Tumblr fandom a couple of years ago, I'd have struck gold with the target demographic I'd be writing for but nowadays, working long hours for a small crowd isn't worth it anymore and longform series are something people generally stray away from, at least in my opinion.

I know, it is bad enough to say that because I'm not entitled to reads, comments and notes, but at the same time, juggling uni and everything, it just gets to you and sometimes you don't want to put in all that effort. You don't want to painstakingly write every single word. You want to write what you want to write. For a long time my old works were things I assumed people would like and the pressure to stand out really got to me, because you have to have a driving theme for all of your work or people wouldn't find a reason to tune in. Then after a while I realised that was a terrible idea to follow through, with the fandom getting smaller by the day, etc, I just felt like actually writing what I want to is a lot better than dealing with this statistics and semantics and all that bullshit.

Writing is supposed to be fun. Reading is supposed to be fun. I just wanted it to be that way and draw the line when it got too much.

Thank you so much for this Ask, because I wouldn't have found another way to properly address this. I've promised things in the past where I said I'd get to working on my old stuff whenever I can, but now I'm happy I came to a realisation that that wouldn't happen and that's okay. I know a considerable amount of people loved it and were looking forward for more and I have nothing but a heartfelt apology to offer, but it just seems like the only way to actually help myself.

I don't want to revisit what I'd written before. I don't want to build on what I've written. I just don't want anything to do with that. And I hope this clarified a couple of questions. Thank you so much to Anon, thank you to all the people who've supported and I'm very sorry for leaving you guys on stand-by.

#blog announcement #personal stuff #anonymous #askboxed!

[lasisgood]

Svu and law and order crossover I wrote something similar like this on my selfship blog but this is more updated? I don't know recent? I wrote this all on tumblr and I don't want to copy and paste it one by one onto docs then onto my other blog.

So here it stays

I don't really write. But I suddenly got a bunch of inspiration to.

Self insert and Nolan Price/Las.(me)

I like Nolan Price okay. He's pretty. Hugh Dancy is my boy.

~~~~~~~~~

Las hummed as she made her way to Benson' s office coffee's in hand.

"Oh, Carisi" Las smiled as she put down all the coffee she brought back. "I brought you coffee. Still milk and 2 sugar?"

Carisi smiled, "oh yeah, and thanks Las. I missed this."

"What me bringing you your coffee?"

"Being here. It's nice. Oh Las. I saw you with Ada Price the other day. What were you doing with that guy?"

"Ah, well. Benson's sending me off to Mccoy. And I was meeting Mr. Price."

"Wait. You're sending her off to Mccoy?" Carisi frowned.

"I thought, he needed an assistant. And I can handle myself for a week or 2."

~~~~~~

Benson cannot handle Las away for 2 days. She's lost papers. Forgotten notes. Didn't remember her coffee order. Las knew it hell she knew everyone's orders.

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

"I don't need you." Mccoy said to Las.

"Ex-excuse me? Sir? I was assigned to you I can't just go back-"

"I didn't finish. I don't need you. But. I have an ada who could use an assistant. Do you know ada price?"

"I met a few days ago. He seemed okay."

"Well, you're working for him now. If he tries to talk his way out of this, say it's Mccoy's orders."

"Okay."

"Now go. I'll see you later. Actually I'll show you to his office."

~~~~~~

"Oh, Miss its good to see you again." Nolan smiled at Las who was followed by Mccoy.

"Oh. Sir. Hello-"

"Nolan. Call me Mccoy. Anyways. This here. Is Las. She was assigned to be my assistant. By Captain Benson. She'll be here 2 weeks. I don't need an assistant though. So I'm handing her to you my most capable laywer. I know you'll work great together. I'll be going."

"But Mccoy I don't need a-"

"Cmon Nolan. I need you to do this for me. We can't just send her back to Captain Benson. She's here and she's Your assistant starting now. That's an order."

And with that Mccoy was gone.

Las smiled at Nolan. "I'm sorry. I'm just supposed to be here-"

"That's okay. I can work with this. Do you want coffee?"

"Huh?"

"Coffee. I'm going to get some. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure."

So Las memorized Nolan's coffee drink, got a nice tea and Nolan told her having her around might not be so bad. He's got cases and he sometimes loses paperwork.

"Now you can have my card. I'll pay for the drinks." Nolan said matter of factly. Las frowned.

"No that's okay. I can pay for them myse-"

"No. You're my assistant. I'm paying for my own stuff and for you. I can afford it. Don't worry. Now I need you to file these bunch of papers. While I go over this case."

"Okay."

So las ended up spending the afternoon organizing papers into files and files into categories, while Mr. Price sat at his desk going through his latest case. Muttering to himself every once in awhile. To be fair las expected this. Benson told her ada's had so much paper work. And if Las went to grab him a cup of coffee every once in a while when he looked like he needed it he stared at her confused the first few times. Then slowly came around to expect it.

"Having you around isn't so bad." He mumbled to himself as Las went back to her organizing. Price felt a little thump in his chest everytime Las smiled at him.

"Did you say something?" Las asked flashing him a smile as she began organizing his law books.

"No, no. Are you hungry? I don't know about you. But I'm getting there. How about we take a break? Go grab a bite?"

"Okay. I don't have any idea what to get though?" Las wasn't familiar with this area the law offices were a little ways from svu nit too far but enough to be confused.

"I know a place down the block, I'll show you."

~~~~~~~~

"Hey finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you go pick up Las at the ada's office. I wanted to bring her home, I wanted to ask how her first day working for Mccoy was going."

"Yeah I can-"

"Mccoy? Las isn't working for Mccoy." Carisi said as he put his briefcase on Bensons desk.

"I lent her to Mccoy. She's supposed to be-"

"Mccoy said he didn't need an assistant. Gave her to one of his ada's."

"Can we not talk about Las like she's property." Benson frowned.

"Sorry. But Mccoy lended his new assistant to ada Price if I'm correct."

"Price I know that name."

"Hot shot prosecutor. Brown hair, cute eyes."

"Cute eyes?" Finn chuckled

"Well that's what I hear from my coworkers " Carisi chuckled. "the one's that work with me. He's cute. Pretty. Handsome. Single. i don't know. I just know he's a good prosecutor, wins cases. But he usually keeps to himself."

"Oh great." Benson sighed. "Now I gotta worry about Las for 2 weeks."

"He's not a ladies man Benson. He's just a quiet guy who's a damn good laywer. Looks aside. Las probably won't fall for him. She's professional like that."

"I'm not entirely worried about las. I'm worried about him. Las is naive she's overly affectionate, nice, very giving. Anyone would fall for that. Hell she's won over our whole squad."

"She's won over Stabler, Amaro, hell even munch." Finn chuckled. "Don't worry, Liv. Maybe Las will win over this guy, and we can have a backup attorney."

"Hey. I'm your ada. I know svu better than any of those hot shots." Carisi smiled.

"Oh. Liv do you still want me to get her?" Finn asked.

"She's not there." Carisi chimed in. "Saw her heading somewhere with Price right as I was leaving. Something about food?"

"That's it we need her back!" Benson shouted, standing from her seat. "I'm gonna talk to Mccoy and get her back."

"Whoa whoa, wait a sec Liv. What if Las found herself someone nice? We'd all like that. Especially after Stone left. She could use some happiness right?" Finn shrugged "I'd like to see her happy. And I know you would too. Let's wait this out. If Las needs our help, she'll ask us, and we can step in. But for now. Let's see where it goes."

#law and order svu #benson sees Las as a kid but Las is an adult who can handle herself well enough #las is just down for food yeah price is pretty but food is better #carisi listens to the office gossip in his down time #las dated peter stone before he left #mccoy secretly ships Price and Las #mccoy is like Price needs a girlfriend badly i have a new assistant this works #benson with Las is like a mother hen #self indulgent #selfship #my writing

[flightlessangelwings]

My Hero

Clint Barton x fem!stripper!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Clint, stripper!reader, hard of hearing Clint, reader gets harassed, unprotected sex, food mention (please let me know if I missed anything)

Notes: I wanted to have this written months ago but this just did not want to be written lol. But it’s finally done and I’m happy with it! And we respect sex workers here!! And I used mcu Clint as the gif but I imagined more comic Clint when I wrote it but it’s up to you which you imagine! Enjoy! Feel free to also follow update blog and turn on post notifs to stay up to date @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

A chill hit your skin as you walked as quickly down the street as you could in your heels. You wrapped your coat around you in an attempt to block the cool night air, but your more exposed legs made it a fruitless effort. At least your brisk pace kept you warmer as you made your way down the dark street and towards your work. Of course you lost track of time during the day and ran late, but you called ahead and your friend covered for you until you got there, which was a relief. And your boss was kind and forgiving too, which you were thankful for.

A colorful light in the distance made you sigh in relief as your work building came into sight. But, your relief didn’t last long and a whistle from behind you called your attention. Before you even thought twice, you looked over your shoulder and saw three men close behind you that looked at you with malicious grins on their faces.

“Hey baby, how about we take you for the ride of your life?” one called to you as the group inched closer to you.

You didn’t even respond before you ran. In your haste to get to work, you got ready at home, which meant you were outside more scantily clad. It didn’t bother you to be out in less, but you knew that it sometimes drew unwanted attention too. You just hoped that you would make it into the building before the men caught up to you.

It was wishful thinking, however, and before you got too far, you felt big, sweaty hands on you. You let out a scream in hopes that someone would hear, but another hand quickly covered your mouth as they dragged you into a darkened ally. You struggled and tried your best to fight them off, but they overpowered you, and tears of frustration fell from your eyes. Your coat fell open and you tried to block out the lewd comments from the men at your attire.

But, as quickly as the men grabbed you, they ripped themselves off of you as an arrow flew past them and grazed their arms. You let out a deep breath of fresh air as you jumped back to put distance between yourself and your attackers. All eyes turned towards the opening of the ally where a shadowed figure stood.

“Hey mind your business, asshole,” one of the men shouted before they turned their aggression to him.

The figure blocked and dodged their attacks easily. You watched in stunned awe as this mystery man defended you and fought them off. It wasn’t until the light caught his face that you realized who he was and you let out a surprised gasp.

“Hawkeye?!” you whispered.

He pushed one of the men down and turned to you with a half grin, “Hey,” he waved at you and you felt your heart pound in your chest. You were sure the look on your face was comical as you stared at him in awe.

“Look out!” your expression dropped as you shouted. One of the men pushed himself to his feet and launched himself at Hawkeye once more while the two of you stared at each other.

The avenger slipped and fumbled, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched helplessly. But, he wasn’t down for long, and Hawkeye quickly turned the tables and beat the last man down.

“Come on man,” the man pleaded, “We couldn’t help it, I mean look at how she’s dressed. She’s asking for it!”

Hawkeye pretended to fiddle with his ear as he looked down at the man with disinterest, “Sorry I can’t hear you, my hearing aids don’t pick up on bullshit,” he paused for a beat before he kicked the man unconscious and turned his attention to you, “Hey, you alright?”

You stood in stunned silence for several moments before you answered, “Fine,” you breathed, “Thank you for that,” you added with a smile.

Hawkeye smiled at you again and you felt your entire body heat up, “No problem,” he turned to the side slightly and offered you his hand, “Come on, we should get you out of there before these assholes wake up.”

You swallowed hard as you took his hand and it felt so warm and comforting in yours. You let him guide you out of the alley and into a more well lit street where you saw your destination only a couple blocks away. Once you were far enough and closer to the strip club, you turned to him, “I’m going there,” you gestured to the building that was lit up in neon signs of women’s silhouettes and drinks.

“I guess I’ll leave you then,” Hawkeye said awkwardly as he fumbled with his hands, “I’m Clint, by the way.”

“I know,” you couldn't help but laugh, “You’ve saved the world, and now you’ve saved me,” you bit your lip as you gave him your name, “If you want,” you suddenly felt shy, “I can offer you a free dance or a drink or something as thanks.”

Clint smirked and he was about to reply when a ring from his phone broke his thought. He frowned as he pulled it out and flashed you an apologetic look before he answered it. You watched as his expression turned more serious as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. With a clink, he hung up and you knew what his thoughts were by the melancholy look in his eyes, “Can I take a rain check? Duty calls.”

The fact that he wanted to come back stirred something within you and you let out a breath that you didn’t know you held, “Come by anytime,” you whispered.

~

“Girl, THE Hawkeye saved you?!” Blanca exclaimed as the two of you sat at your mirrors backstage and got ready for the night’s shows, “Girl that sounds like a fairytale.”

You let out a dreamy sigh as you told your best friend the story of what happened that night. You didn’t want to talk about it right away, but now that several weeks had gone by and Clint still hadn’t shown up, you started to feel a little down and needed someone to talk to. Blanca listened intently as you finally told her about your encounter weeks ago.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “It would be if it had the fairytale ending.”

Blanca scoffed, “Girl he’s probably busy. He wouldn’t leave someone as hot as you hanging,” she nudged you playfully, “But if he does, you can give him my name and I’ll take care of him if he comes when you’re not here.”

“Blanca!” you chastised her playfully as you both burst into laughter.

“Ten minutes ladies,” your manager poked his head into the room and broke your laughter, “Good to see you smiling again,” he said to you before he retreated back to watch over the club. He always looked out for you and the other girls, and he noticed when you started to feel more down, but he knew better than to ask. If you needed him, you would come to him, and you knew that he would support you anyway he could. He was the best in the business when it came to taking care of the girls, and you were grateful every day that you worked for him.

“Shall we, then?” you turned to Blanca as you put the finishing touches on your makeup.

~

Music pulsed through the club as colored lights lit up the darkened space. Disco balls hung all over that reflected the light and the main floor was dimmed as Blanca danced on the lit stage. You glanced up at her and admired how stunning she looked as she shook her hips for the crowd that clamored in front of her. She met your gaze for just a moment and winked at you before she went back to her dance and you turned toward the other side of the bar with the tray of specialty shots in your hands.

It was late into the night, and other than the usual packed crowd, things were uneventful. You had danced on stage earlier and it was your turn to sell shots, so you weaved through the crowd and collected tips for every small glass you handed out. And, like every night, you always kept an eye out for one face in particular, although you had yet to see him since the night he saved you. As the night went on, you gave up hope that it would be the night Clint finally came by.

But, your heart stopped when you saw another familiar face from that same night.

Right in front of you was one of the men who attacked you that night, and you could tell he was looking for you. You cursed under your breath at not noticing him sooner, but it was too late to turn away and run. With a slimy grin, he reached out for you and rested his hand on your hip as he leaned in close to you.

“Been looking for you, sweetcheeks,” he mumbled in your ear with a dark chuckle.

“We have a no touching policy here,” you tried to stay firm through your fear as you pushed his arm off of you. You kept yourself tense and balled your hand into a fist. Although you didn’t want to start a scene, you also had to defend yourself. If that meant you punched a creep in the face, so be it. You knew the owner would understand and he would have your back.

“Oh don’t be like that,” his grip on you tightened as he took the almost empty tray of shots from your hands and placed it on the little table next to you, “We have unfinished business from the other night,” he added as his hand wandered down the backside of your body.

Before you could even react, the man suddenly shouted in pain and his hand was ripped off of you. A broad body shielded yours but you couldn't see the face from your angle. The music was too loud to hear the exact words, but you could tell the men shouted at each other. Your defender didn’t let the creeps get any closer to you, and while they continued their confrontation, you looked around the club in a panic as you searched for security.

Luckily, they had seen the scuffle and two large men grabbed your attackers and escorted them out of the club before it escalated. With a sigh of relief, you turned back to your savoir and all your breath left your body when you realized who it was.

“Clint?!” you gasped as you met his eyes for the first time.

He gave you a crooked smile as he stepped closer to you in order to hear you, “Hey.”

“What… What are you doing here?” You didn’t know what to think as your emotions ran high. Every night, you hoped he would show up, and yet now that he was here, you had no idea what to do or say.

“Can we step outside?” Clint gentured to his ear, “Can’t hear in here.”

You nodded and swallowed hard as you led him out back. You briefly stopped and let your boss know that you were leaving, and he gave you a knowing nod. The security guys must have already told him something happened, and the frazzled look in your eyes told the rest of the story.

The dressing room was quiet and empty, thankfully. Clint watched from the doorway as you gathered your things and put your coat on over your little sparkly outfit. You felt his eyes on you and you suddenly became aware of how little your outfit covered. It didn’t bother you, but under Clint’s gaze, you felt nervous.

“Can I take you home?” he offered as you zipped up your coat and turned to him.

You nodded, but before you opened the back door, you asked a question that suddenly popped into your mind, “How did you know those guys would be here tonight?”

Clint exhaled sharply as his gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, “This isn’t the first time I’ve been here,” he admitted sheepishly as he looked you in your eyes again, “I’ve been here most nights actually. Had a bad feeling about them.” A tingle of pink lit up his cheeks.

You dropped your shoulders and let the breath you didn’t know you held go, “Really?” A few beats of silence passed between you as neither of you knew what to say next. “Thank you,” you finally said in a whisper with a soft smile, “My hero.”

That made Clint laugh, “Let’s get you home.”

~

The walk home was peaceful, and you fought the urge to tangle your arm with Clint’s the entire way. What started as comfortable silence soon turned into light conversation, and you found you really enjoyed talking to him. Something about the archer just drew you in, and it wasn’t because he was an Avenger. 

What you didn’t realize was how much Clint’s thoughts reflected your own.

“Well, this is it,” you stepped into your place as he followed. You stooped awkwardly as you held your jacket closed while Clint checked out your home.

“Cozy,” he said with a grin. But, as his eyes landed on you, his brows furrowed as he watched how you fumbled with your coat.

You met his eyes for a moment before you burst into laughter, “I’m sorry,” you waved your hand, “I’m not sure why I’m so worried about my jacket,” you finally relaxed and let your coat fall open, “If you’ve been by the club, you’ve seen pretty much all of me already.”

A sly smirk lit up Clint’s face as his eyes scanned your body. He was momentarily taken aback at how stunning you were, but he quickly recovered and quipped back, “How about we make it more even then?”

Before you could ask what he meant, Clint swiftly took off his shirt so that he stood in front of you in just his jeans. Your mouth dropped open in awe as your eyes traced the lines of muscles and scars on his chest and you gawked at him before you could stop yourself. Clint found your reaction amusing and he closed the space between your bodies and gently cupped your face. He kept his touch light so you could push him away if you wanted, but instead you grabbed him and yanked him towards you.

You crashed your lips together in a heated kiss as your arms wrapped around Clint’s neck. He groaned into the kiss as he parted his lips to deepen it while his arm rested on your hips. Moans from both of you filled the room as you tangled yourselves together. Your tongues danced in a unique rhythm while you pressed your body flush against Clint’s. It was hot and heavy and passionate and everything you both imagined.

“Bedroom?” you asked in a hushed tone, though you were sure he heard you.

Clint looked at you with a fire in his eyes as he nodded.

You grinned as you kissed him again and tugged at the waist of his jeans to lead him back to your bedroom. Neither of you broke away from the other as you tugged and clawed at the pieces of clothes on the other’s body as you led the way to your bed. A tail of discarded clothes lay in the wake of your passions as you reached your destination.

Since you never actually watched where you were going, when you reached your bed, you tripped and fell backwards. Clint felt you begin to fall and quickly wrapped his arms around you to keep you up, but the momentum of your fall only took him down with you.

The two of you landed on your bed and exhaled deeply at the impact. You stared up at him as he lay on top of you and Clint stared back before you both burst into laughter once more. You buried your hand in Clint’s hair as he nuzzled your nose and kissed you again. A moan escaped your lips that he greedily swallowed as he slowly rocked his hips against yours.

You bucked your hips against his and grinned when a low groan rumbled from his chest. His hands roamed all over your body and you felt the desperation in his touch. He murmured your name in between kisses as his hand reached your pussy.

“Clint,” you breathed as you opened your eyes and were met with his gaze. You knew the question that laid behind his eyes without the words needed, “Yes… Please…”

With another low groan, Clint slowly pushed two fingers inside you, and he savored the moan that you let out. You were so wet already, and you immediately bucked your hips into his hand, needy for more of his touch. 

You grabbed Clint's wrist, and he stopped at your sudden action. But, one look at your face told him that stopping was not in your agenda.

“Need you,” you begged, “Please Clint.”

His eyes nearly went black from the lust that rushed through his system, “Say it like that, and you get anything you want, baby.”

As much as you wanted to retort, any rational thought left your body as Clint pulled his fingers out of you and quickly replaced them with the tip of his cock. You cried out in pure bliss as he carefully and slowly pushed into you. You clung to his strong shoulders as he filled you inch by inch, and in the back of your mind you were warmed by the realization of how gentle he was with you.

“Shit,” he murmured as his hips met yours.

“Fuck,” you moaned as you pulled his body flush against yours, “Move, Clint. Please…”

With another kiss, Clint did as you asked and he thrust his hips against yours over and over again. His pace started slow and steady at first, but encouraged by your moans and cries, he quickly sped up. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, desperate to keep him as close as you possibly could while he rocked into you again and again.

A flurry of moans and curses filled the room as Clint pounded into you. You screamed as he hit that sweet spot inside you and you clung to him hard enough to break skin. But he didn’t care. All Clint cared about was making you feel good, and the feeling of your warmth around his cock. 

“Clint… You’re gonna make me cum…”

He groaned at your words, “Fuuuuuck,” he panted as he sped up his thrusts.

With just a few more thrusts of his hips, you came hard on Clint’s cock. Your legs trembled around him as you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors heard you. But that didn’t matter to you, and in that moment nothing else existed other than you and Clint in your heated passions.

With a moan of your name, Clint came right after you as he spilled himself inside you. He kept his thrusts as long as he could until he collapsed down on top of you and the two of you tangled yourself together in a hot, sweaty pile. Heavy breaths filled the room as you both took the moment to rest, though your bodies remained hot as you plastered yourself against the other.

“Clint… That was…” you breathed, “Wow…”

Clint couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re pretty wow yourself,” he replied with a soft kiss to your temple before he flopped back down.

You hummed contently as you held him close. Your hands gently brushed along his back in a soothing motion and if it weren’t for his groans, you would have thought he fell asleep.

“Hey,” Clint broke the comfortable silence, “As much as I’d love to stay inside you, I could really use some coffee right now. You wore me out, baby.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Honestly, me too,” you gave him a sweet kiss on the top of his head, “Come on, I’ll take care of you.”

“My hero,” Clint replied with a smirk to which you both burst into laughter. 

#clint barton x reader #clint barton #clint barton x you #clint barton imagine #hawkeye #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x you #clint barton x y/n #hawkeye x y/n #hawkeye x female reader #clint barton x fem reader #client barton x female reader #Avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #marvel fanfiction #clint barton fic #clint barton fanfiction #marvel fic

[hyungieyoongi]

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

---

Taglist: @loveyoongles​ @agustd-2020​ @delacyrose224​ @crispychanniee​ @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh

Want to be added to the tag list? Let me know!

Check out my other work! ❤️ 

#bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #run away to you fic #bts fanfiction #bts series #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga #suga x reader #sugar x y/n #bts au fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Fools who dream #Writer Wednesday 07/28/21 Javier Peña x f!reader

For #Writer Wednesday created by @autumnleaves1991-blog and tagging @clydesducktape that creates the masterlist every week. Thank you for the amazing work to both of you!!

Paring: Javier Peña xf!reader (addressed as you/she)

Summary: Long time ago, Javier met a girl full of dreams living a hard life. One day, driving around town he finds out that maybe, dreams do come true.

Warnings: smoking, swearing, +18 SMUT not very descriptive sex but it’s there, allutions to prostitution.

A/N: This is the lovechild of: me being angsty, listening to Lalaland’s soundtrack, and rereading a novella I wrote a long time ago about an escort girl that I was planning to rewrite (I thought that it could be an interesting Javi’s fic, but I don’t know). So to conclude: a mess, voilá! bear in mind, there’s mention of sexwork and we respect sexworkers in this house.

Sorry for any mistakes and bad grammar!!

Fools who dream

She turns and faces the camera, they make a dramatic zoom on her while the orquestra rises in a beautiful romantic crescendo. With pink parted lips she smiles at the protagonist, her eyes glow and shyly she lowers her gaze.

Back to the male lead he’s looking at her like there’s nobody else in the room, the camera blurs everything except his face and hers. Love, romance.

The movie was not really interesting until the moment she appeared. Same old story about a guy in search of that perfect girl, his life is miserable; making him fall into very comedic and not very surprising adventures and misfortunes on a very normal life up until she appears and then she shows him the meaning of life and live life to the fullest or some bullshit.

Javi didn’t pay a ticket for a good story, fuck he didn’t even read the plot before buying it. But he saw the sign while he was waiting at the traffic light, the local drive-in cinema and its yellow lights against the night presenting:

The right one (or something like that) starring some guy and then her name.

So he drove in and asked for a ticket, probably looking a bit weird being just a guy alone buying just one ticket to a romantic comedy surrounded by couples. It looks fucking sad, Peña he thought. But he has to see her, he has to see if it is true.

“Hi”

she says on the screen and it takes him away from his thoughts. Hearing that voice again after many years hits him so differently. To think that those sweet lips moaned and called his name pressed against his skin, so close that he can almost feel the heat of her body on him in his cold lonely car.

The guy smiles at her and makes a fool of himself gaining a sweet giggle from her. And it reminds him of the times she danced in his apartment or made fun of him for being such a grump.

Deja de fruncir el ceño, Javi, que se te va a quedar así (Stop frowning, Javi, or it’s gonna stay like that) she used to say, brushing her index finger over her nose giggling just like now in the movie.

She said something back, but he’s not listening. Javier just puts the words he remembers she said to him on her lips. A fantasy within a fantasy.

What is more real? those intimate moments years ago or him watching her on a movie alone in his car?

He has lost the plot, but who cares? She laughs and pushes the protagonist's hand to the empty streets of New York and the lights shine on them, and as the world perfectly bends to lovers in movies, it starts raining and she receives the drops with open arms and a wide grin. And they kiss, a perfect one, soft lips over the other. Nothing like the kisses they shared

Their kisses were hungry, knowing that they were borrowed and paid in time, rushed sometimes, others slowly and messy pouring all the heat and the pain and the adrenaline in which he lived in those years.

Now he wishes he could have kissed her once last time, just like that, softly, the world far away from them. Perfect just like a movie.

The audience claps rejoicing in this celebration of love, some young couples are celebrating love in some different kind of way, the movie merely an excuse to have some time alone under the stars.

And Javier is suddenly aware of his loneliness of the empty space by his side, he’s the antonym of what he’s seeing on screen, of having the luck of finding the one and being delighted in love.

He could’ve been in love, once. He certainly felt something growing and shattering the hard shield he had on his chest when they were together.

And now watching her mimic those feelings, those desires, he feels jealous, of what? he doesn’t know, it’s not like they had a chance...did they?

Colombia, 1984

“You’re going to laugh” you say the fan above your head blows waves of hot air that still smell of sex and the cigarette Javi’s smoking languidly over the window.

He has barely put his jeans on, the zip and top button undone. He looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes are way more visible today than ever. You can even see the weight on his shoulders, he’s hunching, his neck curved down as he smokes.

He doesn’t say but you know there’s something bothering him, he’s quieter than usual, rougher.

He called you late in the evening, paid a taxi to get you to his house and you barely made it to the door when he grabbed you by your hips and pressed his body against yours. The kiss was ardent, his tongue invading your mouth in a mix of coffee, whiskey and smoke and need. You tried to push him and talk, just maybe say hello how was your day but he whimpered, he’s dark eyes pleading while he caressed your cheeks. And you let him, you know what he needed so you said nothing when he impatiently fisted your skirt up your navel and pushed your panties to the side so he could bury himself in you.

Covered in the dim lights of the scarce traffic in the middle of the night, silent apart from the rhythmic thumps of your hips hitting the door and both of your whispers and moans, Javier performed his usual rite of expelling his demons away on you. Each thrust, each second he was in you, the world became nothing, just white noise, there was only you and the primal need of achieving pleasure skin against skin.

Your soft voice, those sweet lips gasping brushing against his ear, he thinks it’s the only time he likes to hear his name being called or actually being aware of himself. With you there’s no Javier running to and from monsters and there’s no brutality or violence.

There’s only your soft hands locked on his neck, fingers curled in his hair and when you smile at him, eyes up the sky, lost in pleasure, he feels good and the world seems a little bit better.

“I even didn’t offer some water before…” he said after he recovers his breath still inside you

“I’ve never had a warmer welcome in my life, Javi, it’s alright” you laugh with legs trembling

“Still” he kissed your wrists and held you close, walking slowly towards the bedroom.

You barely made some small talk before his eyes grew darker, lost in something that chokes him, and he quietly covers you with his big body

“I just need to make love to you...please” he said with his forehead on yours. And here you are, body exhausted and numb, cooling the sweat with the sweet waves of air from the fan.

“I won’t laugh at you” he answers resuming the conversation, you were lost in your thoughts but when you look at him, you see he watches you intently and you believe him

“I mean it’s so cliche how I ended up doing this...it’s ridiculous” you shake your head

None of your clients has ever asked you about how you ended up doing this. None of them are really interested in you anyway, they prefer a fantasy, a character. But not Javi, and that scares you. He sees right through you.

“I wanted to get out of my small town, I had big dreams, big plans” you smile “I came to the city and I tried and tried to succeed but...well, long story short, a friend proposed it once and the money was too tempting”

“What did you want to do in the first place?” Javi approaches the bed. His skin shines against the moonlight, his disheveled hair makes him looks younger

“Now you’re going to really laugh” you cover your face with one of his pillows

“C’mon tell me” he smirks squeezing your tight

“I wanted to be an actress, do novelas, films, everything” you shyly confess. For a moment, you don’t look at him, expecting him to chuckle at your stupid little dream, but seconds pass and he doesn’t

“ I think you could do it” Javi’s hands draw small circle over you hip bones

“You think?” you bite your lip

“I do” he shifts position, resting his back on the bed and you open your legs so he can rest his head over your belly “Would you send me a dedicated picture once you made it?” you brush his hair out of his face and you see he’s smiling

“Of course, To my very first fan, who always believed in me” you wave your hand over the imaginary paper “And a kiss just under it”

“Would frame it and put it in my office...nah” he shakes his head “I put it right here” he motions towards the nightstand “I don’t want my colleagues greasy hands over my picture”you laugh out loud at his comment

“Sure, so you can dream about me” you joke stealing his cigarette and smoking a long drag

Present day

You don’t know how many times he has dreamt about you.

How many times that stupid movie has played in his house late at night, he bought it, foolish at it may seem, he has rewatch every frame, stopping to admire you.

You look happy now, your sweet eyes shine more and he’s happy, really is, that you have made it, but deep down, he wonders, as much as it makes he’s heart ache, Do you think about him? surely you don’t.

Probably you left that part of your life buried somewhere in Colombia. You changed your name, your past, everything, how could you think about him?

You’re probably living your best life, full of glamour, opportunities opening just in front of your eyes. How could you remember him?

You don’t (surely) so he has to content himself with the fiction. He replays that scene where you turn to the camera, smiling

Hi

and just for a second, he thinks, he dreams, it’s for him.

#writer wednesday #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javier peña x f! reader #javier peña fic #javier peña #javier peña smut #Javier Pena #Javier Pena fanfic #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal characters fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #Narcos #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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#thebtswritersclub #houseofddaeng #btsnoonanet #thetruthuntoldnet #ficswithluv #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon series #rm fluff #purplearmynet #rm smut #rm angst #rm series #bts series #bts fanfction #rm fanfic #namjoon fanfic

[nightwingsaregoths]

4/30/22

TL;DR: Being bored in online class is why this blog exists and why I even started writing a Thorn x Stonemover fanfiction and got back into Wings of Fire.

Today marks the day where exactly a year ago, I opened up my fanfiction document and tried to write a Thorn and Stonemover fix-fic. But, honestly, my efforts have been a little longer than that (this blog exists because of a domino series of events)

Okay, but I got bored in class around last year’s February and searched up how to draw Sunny. Anyway, I had such fun that I decided to reread The Brightest Night because I remembered it fondly. It was my first Wings of Fire book ever, actually. I was reading about Sunny ending the war and I’m pretty sure that I didn’t even read The Dragonet Prophecy until a year after that.

So yeah, I read up to the chapter where Sunny met Stonemover and I felt so bad for him :( That turned into a decision to try and write Stonemover a happy ending because he deserved better.

Approximately weeks and garbage writing later (youch, it was bad. I don’t think I’d count it as actually writing fanfiction but that was around March 2021). I realized that I wrote garbage, promptly abandoned it, and started again, before rereading Wings of Fire and getting into the fandom again. Also, I started accumulating incorrect quotes like a sick dragon on top of a hoard of gold.

At 4/30/21, I made a new google document! Then, I spent 8 months being miserable while writing something that I didn’t even want to write. I mean, good effort, past me, but not particularly what I wanted. Especially because I had about no plot and intricately described the setting instead of actually having said plot. I think that was a big struggle period while writing, things were tough ;-;.

Anyway, in June of 2021, I believe I published my Wings of Fire incorrect quotes and memes on wattpad because my meme document was about 70 pages long and I needed to get rid of them. Anyway, I think I had about what, 11 pages left before I decided to delete it all, but I’m somehow still ongoing with my Wings of Fire incorrect quotes and memes because I’ve gone to tumblr instead of hitting the generator.

In August, I was walking in the woods and had a weird idea, so I pumped out Corn, and gave up after about 2 months. (I might update it one day, just because why not, but currently my main fanfiction is my true love. I actually don’t mind it, I made up names for every one of Coral’s unnamed 28 sons but it was sort of crack-y and Thorn and Coral wouldn’t actually be compatible with each other at all. I only wrote it because it was weird and a little funny, which was the opposite of my other fanfiction at the time). 

Sometime in November, after putting Corn on the backburner, I think I rewrote my fanfiction again. But, I was still unhappy while writing that, and realized that I didn’t like it, but apparently I hung on because I was a fool. Anyway, I did create a stupidly long outline doc so there’s that. I learned the Three Act Plan and had this whole plot that I may or may not scrap now, and I’m sorry to anyone who had to listen to me ramble back in the day. 

Around December, I wrote, and abandoned an 80s songfic that had a trashfire of a main pairing. I don’t think I would ever let it see the light of day, but bits and pieces of it still exist in my main fanfiction. It was called “I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight” after the Cutting Crew song and if I told you the plot, it would be potential spoilers. I’ve decided to put it in as a backstory, but I tweaked it quite a bit. But yeah, I set my love interests up to be a garbage fire because they would never work well, and that’s partially why I stopped.

In January, I had a mild crisis and probably tried rewriting my main fanfiction because I was still unhappy. I mean, it did make me feel unhappy. Back then, and for the last year-ish or so, I only wrote in Stonemover POV and that was frustrating and it felt like being trapped, in a way, because on one hand, I wasn’t letting him talk or be free, and it felt like yanking teeth in order to write. Also, it just felt very, I don’t know, one sided? Before I did my rewrite in February, I always felt frustrated because I’ve realized that Stonemover was only really one part of the plot, and that he was deprived of information the most, while also having pieces of his past that were missing (spoiler alert: He was supposed to figure it out with time). It was pretty hard to write, anyway.

Around February, I made my tumblr blog a little before that in January, but Valentine’s Day rolled by. Anyway, this is probably a personal confession in here, but I felt personally disheartened in myself for not writing fast enough or creating any cute romantic content for my own OTP (hahahahaha. rarepair pain.). So, soon after that, I wrote a plot bunny named after another 80s song called “Careless Whisper”. Yes, the song with the sick saxophone riff. (You can figure out the plot from the lyrics). Anyway, I knew that it was terrible, and that the main characters were all committing mistakes and screwing up in their own way, but I was actually evilly happy writing that. Of course, I didn’t have the heart to finish it, but it felt extremely refreshing and freeing to write from Secretkeeper POV after writing from only Stonemover POV for so long. 

So, by the end of February, I was inspired to rewrite my fanfiction, but this time I had changing character POVs, which is MUCH better, I’ll tell you that because every POV has both 

1. A person they love, and

2. A hidden agenda.

And now I’ve realized that in my previous fanfictions, Stonemover didn’t have either of that because I never wrote it in well enough. Anyway, I haven’t written his POV in my fanfiction yet, but at some point I’ve come to enjoy writing mutiple POVs, because the whole mess of NightWing politics and how it’s changed everyone’s life and how each decision and each hidden goal everyone had was why things turned out that way, and when I was only writing from Stonemover’s perspective which was only one facet of the situation and I missed out on everything else while everyone else around him seemed to have their own things going on at the same time, so I chose to write that as well. So, my silly little romantic fix-fic has now turned into this somewhat pre-arc 1 NightWing politics-y story in order to set things up for later. 

Anyway, sometimes I feel as if everything I’ve done wasn’t so bad. I mean, it did take me a while to get somewhere where I was actually happy with it, and it came with a rather unexpected miracle, almost. And I’ve watched this thing that once said that creativity and other projects inform each other, so it makes me feel better that my half-baked WIPs that I’d probably never finish still live on in what I’m doing right now, and it’s nice to know that going a little off the rails helped me with writing, even though I used to feel guilty (and still will) when I decide to indulge in plot bunnies instead of focusing on my main work.  

I probably won’t release my Thorn x Stonemover fanfiction until it’s finished and fully edited because even though it’ll take me even longer, I just don’t want to go back and realize that I want to revise something or end up taking it down because I felt unsatisfied or whatever. Also, I didn’t want to keep any readers hanging for an update (haha, I haven’t updated Corn in six months. lmao.). 

And, that’s been my year! Hang in there, it’ll only take me a few more to finish my Thorn and Stonemover fanfiction ;)

[to-hell-and-beyond]

“Wish I Was Moon”

Hawk x Reader

Requested: Yes : No

Request: Hi, I love your writing. I was wondering if you could write a Hawk x reader? Maybe using prompts #8 and #11 from you Cobra Kai angst list. Where the reader is insecure and thinks Hawk likes Moon and not her. - Anon

Summary: You wish you were Moon but sadly not all wishes come true. That’s until you find the familiar handwriting of the boy you love...

Words: 1124

You never really got those songs about loving someone who loves someone else. But yet here you were listening to “Heather” by Conan Gray. Except you didn’t wish you were Heather, no you wished you were Moon. You had liked Eli for a long time and when he became Hawk your feelings seemed to double. You had grown to love the confidence that was around him whenever he had that mohawk.

You looked outside you window to see Hawk and Moon. They were flirting tougher and talking right near his bike. Anger grew inside you, rage wanting to pour out. You had been there for him, where was she? Was she there when ever he got bullied? No, but Y/n was.You watched as she waved him goodbye and left. He smirked before going right to his phone.

Hawk: Wanna go check out a movie?

Usually when you would get a text from him you would be ecstatic. Especially if it was one where he wanted to go to the movies, you almost sometimes thought of it as a date. But this time you were feeling different emotions. You were jealous of Moon, why would he even like you if he could have her? 

Y/n: Shure.

What was the worst that could happen if you said yes? You knew one of these days he would forget about you like he did with Demetri. That he would be done with you and drive in the sunset with the Moon. Years ago you would never think this would happen. Guess you should never take anything for granted. 

You were lucky that the bus wasn’t that crowded as you got off waiting for Hawk. You looked at your notifications on your phone to see if your favorite Tumblr Blog had updated. Sadly they had not, so you put your phone away as you waited, and waited, and waited.

You heard the familiar laugh of Moon as you turned around. Standing there was Hawk and Moon flirting. One hand was holding his helmet and the other one was on her shoulder. At that very moment you felt your heart break. Tears formed in your eyes as you watched the couple, wishing you could be Moon.  Hawk waved her goodbye as he walked up to you.

“Hey Y/n! Ready to check out that movie?” He asked as he winked. His smile fell as soon as he saw your face. The tears in your eyes and the deep frown you wore.

“I never stood a chance, did I?” You asked as your hands turned into a fist. You were so done. Done with loving him, down with your self pity. You were so done.

“W-what? What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked all confused as you took deep breaths trying not to break out in sobs in the middle of the street.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” You choked out as the look of horror spread on his face. Little did you know he wanted to come here and ask you out. Moon was just helping him out and besides, she was with Piper.

“You got it all wrong Y/n.” He told you as you pushed past him and began to walk away. You didn’t need him, and you for shure didn’t need his lame excuse. He likes Moon and that was that. There was nothing you could do to change it, no matter how hard you tried.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your tears but you couldn’t stop yourself. He had brought you down to your all time low…

“Y/n?” Your parent asked as they pushed the door open. You looked up at them as you whipped the tears off your face.

“A boy dropped this off for you.” They then handed you a white envelope with your name on the back of it. You knew that handwriting, there was only one person in the world that wrote peoples names like that.

You stared at it for a while, wondering whether or not you should open it. It took a long time for you to figure out what you wanted to do but in the bed you decided to open it. He deserved to be heard no matter how hurt you were.

Dear Y/n,

I hope you’re doing well. Shit that sounds too weird. Um, I hope you’re doing well, you didn’t look to swell when you left. Jesus, am I trying to sound like a freaking 50 year old? Anway I just wanted to tell you the truth. Me and Moon are not dating. You see, the reason I brought you to go see that movie was to tell you I like you. Like, Like you. God that sounds Corny. Anway, just give me a call when you can.

-Hawk

Tears hit the page as you read over the letter once again. You felt so stupid. Why haven’t you seen this earlier? Why did you have to jump to conclusions? Well now was not the time to feel  sorry so you got on your phone and dialed the familiar number. The sounds of it ringing echoed through your room until Hawk picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Hawk, it’s me.” You said into your phone.

“Hey Y/n! Guess you got the letter?”

“Yah I did…”

“How about we meet up near the old skatepark?”

“Ok, see you then.” You hung up before grabbing your bag. The old skatepark was on the southside. It was the worst place in the West Valley because of its numerous gangs. Some gang put a bomb threat so no one ever goes there. Just teengaers who whant to hang out from time to time.

“Hey.” You turned around to see Hawk standing there, hands in his pockets. 

“Hey.” You greeted as the both of you stood in awkward silence. It was never this silent when the two of you were around each other, but the events of yesterday had changed you both.

“I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions!” You apologized, as you said it very fast. He chuckled before coming closer to you.

“It’s ok Y/n.” The both of you stood in silence, wondering who should make the next move.

“Do you wanna go see a movie?” Hawk asked and you laughed. This would be one funny story to tell in the future.

“Shure.” You agreed and the both of you walked towards the movie theater laughing and joking around like you always do. You too were back to your usual, maybe not friends but maybe something more. Guess jealousy had its ways. You made a mental note to apologize and thank Moon later.

#hawk x reader #hawk #hawk x you #hawk cobra kai #hawk imagine #cobra kai #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #moon cobra kai #one shot #fanfic

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Don’t Let Them Hurt You- Ao3

It took a lot longer that planned, but this Pintroverts one shot is complete! :D

The plot around this one is based on Nico getting an anon hate message on song lyrics he posted online, and Thomas then comforts him and helps him see past it... It was something I had sitting in my WIP folder for a while but initially I was struggling with writing it. So I delved into the realm of personal experience for the hurt and the comfort parts ☺️

I hope you enjoy reading it! <3

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @writerwithtoomanyships @red-imeanblue (If you’d like to be added/removed let me know!)

Read on Ao3!

Don’t Let Them Hurt You.

Pintroverts. Hurt/Comfort/Fluff

Warnings: Upset moments, anon hate message, self-deprication.

Nico scribbled furiously, his pen refusing to leave the crumpled piece of paper he found in his bag. The song lyrics raced into his mind while he was out with Thomas an hour ago. He smiled as he thought about his new boyfriend. It was like a breath of fresh air, a clarity in his clouded over world, the writer’s block he had been struggling with for months went away almost instantly after they met in that food court as few months ago. Before, he would stare at his laptop willing words to appear, but his mind wasn’t in it and his fingers wouldn’t type. As the days ticked on and not even a single word appeared on the screen, the lack of motivation set in, and he almost gave up on his newest project… but Thomas crashed his way into Nico’s life and stopped that from happening. In fact, he had already set up several more documents with song ideas in them ready to write as soon as he could, and he couldn’t wait to share them with the people who followed his blog.

Nico’s little following were always so kind and supportive, they were the main reason he kept going with writing songs. People have asked if they can perform his lyrics and he was always blown away by the sheer talent of some of his followers. How he got so lucky, he would never know, but Nico valued every single of them. He finally reached the end of the page, and as the pen fell to the paper with a satisfied clatter, he took a deep breath and pushed the chair away from the desk. He sighed and stretched his arms above his head.

He was never one to speak very positively about himself, but he had a feeling that this was his best song yet. All he needed to do was look it over, type it up and publish it. He hoped that his followers would feel the same. He felt like he should wait for Thomas to come back from getting take-out so he could be the first one to see it, he was the inspiration for it after all. However, the excitement got the better of him, and he remembered that Thomas has notifications on for his blog, so he would be one of the first people to see it. His mind was made up and Nico raced off to get the lyrics typed up.

The word document was opened with lightning speed. The blank space was suddenly being filled with words and emotions at a rapid pace, it was becoming a tapestry right before his eyes and he began to realise just how much he had missed writing. Sooner rather than later, he was finished. He started at his finished work and then opened his blog. Should he really post this? It was his most emotive song yet, and it definitely makes it clear that there is someone in his life now. He couldn’t be happier. How someone as amazing as Thomas wants to be a part of his life, he’ll never work out, but he wasn’t complaining. He took a deep breath before opening his blog and creating a post. He fingers shook a little as he typed out his usual message that he puts at the end of all of his posts.

‘Hey everyone! Just wanted to thank you all once again for your support and patience while I took a while to come up with some new song lyrics! I owe this one to someone incredibly special who crashed into my life recently, and I hope it comes across in this song <3 I genuinely don’t feel like I deserve the support you give me but know that I value you all with my heart and soul. Nico <3’

The overwhelming sense of pride as he hit ‘post’ made his heart beat agonizingly fast, but he couldn’t keep the blog open otherwise he would start to worry about what people think. So he texted Thomas instead checking in to find out what time he’d be coming over. The reply came through almost instantly, 20 minutes, only 20 minutes he had to wait. As Thomas signed off with the signature purple heart, he smiled and held his phone close to his chest. Nico felt his pulse continue to race, he had never felt this for anyone else before and it was unusual, but in the best way possible.

His laptop began to ping with notifications and even though he tried to ignore them, he caved and opened his blog up. To say that Nico was blown away by the response would have been the biggest understatement of the century. He smiled widely as more comments and reactions poured in, at least other people liked the song lyrics as much as he did. He felt on top of the world, until one more comment popped up and it felt like the world was crashing down around him in a matter of seconds.

‘It's true that creators aren't entitled to support, but you. You don't deserve anywhere near as much support as you're getting. There are so many creators out there that are much better than you and they don't get recognition. What you post is nothing special, so how about you stop and let people get support who actually deserve it, you're not worth the time of day.’

Nico stared at the comment until he could almost burn a hole through his laptop screen. He’d never had a hate comment before, and he didn’t know how to take it. He was being so dramatic, it was one hate comment, but that was enough to knock him for six. His heart hurt; his mind was fighting the thoughts racing around. He backed away from his laptop until he hit the wall and he slowly slumped down it, holding his crumpled paper copy of the lyrics tightly in his hand. Is this what people really thought of him?

Well, they were right. He always said that he never deserved the support he was given. Why should he have anyone reading his work when there are other creators that are exponentially better than him? He was a nobody who wrote songs, what was that really? It’s not as if he was a singer, or an artist… someone of worth. He shouldn’t stand in the way of others, what was so special about him? That commenter was just bold enough to say what everyone was clearly thinking behind their screens. Of course it wasn’t real. People can say what they want when no one will ever work out who they are. He laughed bitterly as the tears fell down his face. How could he have been so stupid? No one likes what he does, of course they wouldn’t. He slumped his head on his legs and held his breath until he couldn’t contain his sadness anymore.

The doorbell rang, and he sighed. Of course, Thomas was going to see him like this… that’s going to scare him off. He got up, hesitantly walking to front door and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. God, he was a mess. His eyes were red raw from crying, and his hair was a mess where he clawed at it. He let one person get to him, one anonymous person hiding behind a screen, and he hated himself for it. As the front door opened, Thomas was putting something in his pocket while holding a bag of Chinese food.

“Hey! I saw your song! Nico, it’s incredible- hell, you’re incredible!” Thomas beamed but when he looked up, his smile dropped, and worry clouded over his eyes in an instant. Nico must have looked a mess, he was expecting Thomas to drop the food and run, he wouldn’t blame him.

“Nico? What’s wrong? Hey, hey, hey. Come on, let’s get inside.” As soon as Thomas asked what was wrong, he broke again. The tears began to cascade, and Nico hid his face behind his hands, he felt a hand wrap around his waist and gently bring him back into the apartment. As he was guided to the sofa, he heard Thomas scurrying around the kitchen putting the bag down then coming in to sit next to Nico. He rubbed his hand gently up and down Nico’s back, whispering that everything was okay. The tears began to subside, and he leaned into Thomas’ touch who happily reciprocated. He felt a kiss on his forehead, and he wiped his face of the residual tears off his face.

“So… can you tell me what has got the literal embodiment of sunshine this upset?” Nico smiled slightly and Thomas played with his hair, feeling himself instantly relax at the touch.

“I don’t know if I can… but… just look at my laptop. It should be there.” Thomas looked a little worried before heading over to the desk and reading the words on the screen. Nico saw Thomas’ hands clench until his knuckles turned white and saw how his breathing became slightly labored. The only comforting thing he could think of was, at least he didn’t imagine the whole thing. Thomas marched back over to the sofa and took Nico’s head in his hands before kissing him gently and he pressed their foreheads together.

“Now, you, Nico Flores need to listen to me. You are amazing, you are fantastic and so damn talented that it makes my head spin. The fact that one person is saying something horrendous while hiding behind a screen, it doesn’t take anything away from you. I mean, look at all of these amazing people supporting you and sending you love for your latest song!” Thomas went to the laptop and brought it over to Nico, the comments underneath the hate were flooded with positivity and love, he beamed when he scrolled though, seeing people defend him made his heart feel full.

“Everyone else feels the same way I do about you. You have a phenomenal way with words, they way you write is captivating and you’ve inspired me more than you know. You’ve inspired countless others too. Your posts are special, you’re unique in your own way… let some jealous nobody stay just that… a nobody. Don’t let them hurt you, hun. You deserve all the love in the world, and I will give you all I can! If anything, I don’t deserve someone as incredible as you. You give so much kindness, so much happiness to others… you’ve gotta save some of that for yourself too.” Nico smiled and looked down at the floor, everything Thomas said was true. He could feel all of his sadness and pain melt away so he wrapped his arms around Thomas, hoping he could say thank you without words, otherwise he’d start crying for a different reason this time.

“Right, okay. Let’s reheat the food and we’re just going to watch trashy tv until I have to go home. Sound good?” He nodded eagerly as Thomas stood up holding his hand out for Nico to take, and they talked in the kitchen until the microwave made its call. As they sat together arm in arm until late into the evening laughing at a comedy show re-run, Nico thanked his lucky stars that Thomas crashed into his life. When Thomas had let him know that he was home safe, Nico fell asleep smiling and forgetting the events of the day.

His alarm blared out across his bedroom and Nico rubbed his bleary eyes, attempting to find his glasses to turn off his phone. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realised it wasn’t an alarm, it was a series of text notifications. He stared as he noticed the time, it was rare that he slept in till 1pm but last night was the exception. Nico unlocked his phone and read the stream of texts from his favourite person.

‘Hey! Good morning, Sunshine! I hope you’re feeling better today <3’

‘You are amazing and fantastic; I can’t imagine my world without you in it <3’

‘Anywaaay, I’m rambling now haha. You have that effect on me ;) <3’

‘So, I know you're probably still resting, you had a rough day yesterday! But, when you wake up… go look at my YouTube channel okay? I’ve got a surprise for you <3’

Nico smiled as he read through the texts, and then he immediately went onto YouTube where a new video from Thomas immediately sat at the top of the page. He clicked on it and turned the volume all the way up, he heard music begin and Thomas was standing in the middle of his apartment singing. Nico stared in awe at how amazing his voice was, he’s heard him multiple times, but he was always blown away every time. It wasn’t until he started singing a particular part that Nico gasped and put a hand over his mouth.

‘If my arms were on a clock, I'd stop the time to be with you. Eternity I'd stop, just to be with you.’

These were his song lyrics from yesterday. He couldn’t believe how perfectly Thomas had captured the song, the emotions he was trying to express. It was a complicated symphony but sung with a perfect simplicity that made the words more powerful. He felt tears welling up in his eyes once again, he couldn’t believe that Thomas would do this for him and as the screen faded to black, he went to text Thomas but then he saw him pop back up on the screen.

“Hey guys! So, it’s been a little while since I’ve posted any music covers on here. I really, really hope you love this song as much as I do! The lyrics were written by my wonderful boyfriend, Nico. As soon as I read the lyrics, I knew I had to arrange and perform this song with the help of some brilliant friends who came together very last minute to help me out. I just… wanted to show the guy that I adore that he is amazing, and the words that he writes have the power the make the world a brighter place. So, Nico. This is all for you. Thank you to all my friends who came together to help, their links are in the description below. Thank you to Nico for inspiring me, his song blog is linked below. Thank you to all of you for watching, and until next time… Take it easy, guys, gals and non-binary pals. Peace out!”

Nico smiled proudly as he watched Thomas smile his trademark goofy smile as the video faded to black for the final time. He went back to the beginning and played the video again as he grabbed he phone and text Thomas.

‘Thank you for everything you did for me yesterday. The song and the video are incredible, you should share some of that talent Mr. Sanders ;) Seriously Thomas, I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with you <3’

He sent the text, and then the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Nico looked at the front door suspiciously, he wasn’t expecting anyone. He crept over and peered through the looking glass then opened it as fast as possible. Thomas was holding a large bouquet of flowers and a speaker. He smiled and kissed Thomas on the cheek before taking the flowers out of Thomas’ hands and smelling the delicate scent. Brightly coloured Roses, Chrysanthemums, Delphiniums, and Irises. They were simply perfect, just like the man in front of him.

“I needed to see you, and I thought I could give you a live performance of the song?” Thomas smiled holding the speaker up in air, Nico invited him in and quickly put the flowers into a vase he kept for ornamental purposes. They were truly beautiful, and he was impressed that Thomas remembered what his favourite flowers were after talking about it on the first date. When he turned around, music was almost swirling around them, and Thomas was standing in the middle of the room. He reached out for Nico’s hand, as their hands touched, Thomas pulled him in close and they slow danced while Thomas sang. As the song drew to a close, they came to a stop and this time, Nico pulled Thomas in for a kiss. When they parted, they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other.

“You’re my entire world now, Mr. Sanders.”

“And you are mine, Mr. Flores.”

#sanders sides #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts c!thomas #ts nico #cute #fluff #angst #hurt and comfort #pintroverts #developing relationship #cheesy moments #upset moments #so much fluff

[djarrex]

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  

<3 

M

#long post #m personal

[cocobittiebites]

Hello!! This is my 2nd ask.. I just wanted a Scenario when Hisoka is being Saved by a extremely Powerful Woman who has a very cold Appearance... This Woman saved him during the fight of Chrollo.. Sorry for my Second Ask.. I'm just really loved him.. By the way I'm very satisfied on your blogs😊😊😊😊😘😘😘😘❤️❤️❤️❤️

TELL ME WHY I FORGOT I WROTE THIS A COUPLE DAYS AGO???? LIKE FR THIS WAS DONE ON THURSDAY- talk about forgetfulness 🧍🏻‍♀️

Some things that I added cuz creative liberty and all that jazz: y/n is apart of the main four (well it’s five now on my blog ig), I just love found family ok. Also it gives her depth and a decent reason how she knows Hisoka. Her nen ability was based off of my favorite six of crows character, Nina Zenik (who i also probably based her personality off of)

Also fair warning I can barley understand Nen and how is works whenever it’s explained so yeah here is me bullsh*ting it 🧍🏻‍♀️ I tried for y’all though...

Hisoka x fem!reader

TW: Hisoka being Hisoka, mentions of blood and gore (not that much but still), really this is pretty tame compaired to a lot of things on this app, y/n has strong opinions

Why did she have to get tangled up with this clown yet again? No amount of money is worth dealing with this.

At least she had the intuition to view the fight from her room at Heaven’s arena. From the looks of this the two fighters completely disregarded the sanctity of common courtesy as they brought the audience in their petty quarrel. 

Men and their egos.

The hypocrisy of the situation never ceased to amaze her.

He’s mad that Hisoka sold out the troupe and had a hand in the death of their members? Really? After they probably done far worse? 

She watched up on the screen as the audience members began flying towards the aforementioned clown, internally jerking back as Hisoka’s arm was completely severed.

Just like his fight with Kastro.

But it wasn’t like his fight against Kastro. This was a fight against the leader of the Phantom Troupe and this Chrollo guy….he was no joke. At least in his fight against Kastro it was like a game in his favor. Here though, he was the prey and this Chrollo guy seems vengeful. 

As she focuses on the magician, the situation seemed to hit Hisoka.

It was all incredibly dramatic.

And incredibly stupid.

A huge explosion erupted. Bodies piled up. Chrollo’s the last man standing. 

Hisoka is dead.

Hisoka is dead.

Hisoka is dead.

The words chant in her head like a sour requiem. A feeling of dread washes over her psyche. A wave, a panic arises. Her body moves involuntarily and she runs out the door towards the arena. Once she’s there she stills and takes a breath.

Stop being dramatic….This situation is exactly why he asked you to be here.

As a manipulator she could control a person’s hearts. If she was ever caught in a fight she could practically stop an opponent and give them an artificial cardiac arrest, not that she couldn’t fight her way out without her ability. With this ability she was also able to slow someone's heart rate, either calming them or putting them to sleep. The downside of it was that she had to be within a fifteen foot radius of whoever she’s using it on and there needs to have been a point of contact with the other person within an hour's time frame. 

Aura is all around the body you see, and the core of it is the heart. If it was any other organ, like the brain for example, without a modifier like needles, her nen ability would not be possible. Call it her individuality complex, but something about modifiers made her equate it to people like Illumi Zoldyck. It left a bad taste in her mouth. 

There also was a chance that if she overexerted herself, say stopping more than 3 peoples hearts at a time, she could overwork her heart rate and die. Then again, there are downsides to everything. 

Really it was an ability she was particularly proud of. Well she did develop her nen faster than the others. When she showed Gon and Killua her ability they started bombarding her with endless questions. Though there wasn’t a name for it yet. Leorio and his ever present doctor knowledge just kept spewing out heart-related medical terms.

Cardiac is a good name though. 

God. She really missed her friends.

At least you get to see Kurapika when this is all over.

Back to the matter at hand. Hisoka is dead and before he died he asked her to restart his heart to bring him back to life. After much harassment from him against her and her friends, she was bound to say no, however fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny. A bag is a bag, could you blame her?

Schooling her face she enters the ‘arena’, if you could call it that. The place was completely decimated. The ceiling was ready to crumble completely. Dead bodies littered the entire room. The iron smell of blood wafed up her nose, cringing internally.  In the middle lies Hisoka, face mauled, a missing nose, and several severed limbs. 

Geez, it's like he wants to make her job difficult. 

Peering over to the entrance on the other side she spots a certain pink-haired spider. Machi stands above Hisoka as she uses her nen stitches to put his limbs back together. 

Oh so this is his plan.

She takes no precaution in disguising herself through Zetsu, as she pulls her face into a stony exterior. It works as the pink-haired woman senses her presence and turns up in arms towards her. 

“You” Machi spits out.

“Me” she says mockingly.

“What are you doing here.”

Pointing to the man himself, “The clown wanted me to restart his heart,” sauntering over to where Hisoka’s body laid there, “a fail-safe, if you will.” 

Machi rolls her eyes, “I thought a goodie-goodie like you wouldn’t help a guy like him?”

Shrugging her shoulders she walks up to the spider and brushes Machi’s hair behind her ears, “Fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny.”

Machi doesn’t say anything. Paying no mind the girl kneels down to the magenta magician. His face, once handsome, now bashed and torn up. She wouldn’t admit it to him but she felt a small pang in her heart at the sight of him. 

You shouldn’t feel bad. He’s the cause of his own ruination. 

Placing both hands on his chest she feels for signs of where his heart is. Once finding it she focuses her aura into her hands and into his heart. Raising her connected hands once she pushes down roughly, in turn restarting his heart. Hopefully he still had some blood flow still lingering in the brain. 

It took a minute but after a while of pumping his heart herself she felt his breath even, indicating that he would be fine on his own for now. In a moment of relief she watched his eyes flutter open. 

His eyes focused, slightly dazed and disoriented, but surprised that he is seeing at all. Still he sees her towering over him, as icy as fresh fallen snow. Her expression is blank, devoid of any hatred or fondness. Still she’s ethereal like this. Light shrouded her like a halo, as if she was an angel of death. For a moment he thought he had died and entered a Heaven he did not deserve. 

What a welcome sight <3, he thought.

Machi looked at the pair stunned. So that’s what her nen ability is. Chrollo isn’t going to be happy about this. Slipping past the pair, she left the room to tell her boss about this new development. 

“What a coincidence Y/N, I didn’t know you cared about me this much,” his signature smirk marring his face. She watches as he fills his gapping nose with bungee gum and covers it with his texture surprise. 

Vain as usual.

She scowls at him, “I care about your wallet,” saying it as coldly as possible. 

“Ouch that hurts~” 

“You literally just died.” 

“So now your concerned, hmm~” 

Rolling her eyes she asked, “Well, I hope you learned something from this experience.” Raising her hand she checks his pulse, “What are you going to do about Chrollo and his gaggle of arachne?” 

“This was a sort of wake up call so to say~,” he sits up moving closer to her face, eyes darting towards her petaled lips. He reaches over to caress her face, but she swats his hand and glares, “From now on I won’t give my opponents a choice when and where we fight, it makes things more...interesting.” The magician reveals at the thought. 

Oh how magnificent our fight will be, Y/N

“As for the troupe, I plan on hunting them down,” he moves closer to her ear and then whispers, like a promise between two lovers, “one. by. one.” 

Leaning back to see her cold exterior crumble was a sight to see. Her eyes, wide and shocked, looked like a doe in headlights. Her mouth, deliciously agape, felt tempting to touch. There he was, powerful and sadistic Hisoka, toying with whether he should worship the woman in front of him or break her. 

Decision, decisions. 

“Either way I’m going to need someone to rip their hearts out with.” 

Oh~, this is where the fun begins <3

#hisoka #hisoka morrow #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #machi komacine #phantom troupe #chrollo vs hisoka #main four #hxh #hunter x hunter #as always in my writing y/n is a baddie #stan a queen who is in her bag 🙄🤌🏼 #felt real creative when i came up with that nen ability #y/n with a personality gives me life #slight phantom troupe slander