#I kept on thinking at every new clip should I gif this one and not go in order | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lycheedr3ams · 11 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write about a mean!ghost x reader? Either angst or with a breeding kink🫶

it is a bit unholy how much this ask excited me. i should not be attracted to mean fictional men, but here we are at this point in history

thanks for this ask! I hope y'all enjoy

fem!reader x mean!ghost

MDNI

Warnings: ghost is really mean to reader in the beginning, canon-typical violence, CMNF, humiliation, slight breeding kink, angst, crying, brief mention of female masturbation, fingering, hair-pulling, predator/prey dynamics, pussy slapping, hate sex, orgasm denial, harddom!ghost, dub-con, slight making up at end

Reader is a sniper and your callsign is Reaper

not proofread

you did your best as team 141's new sniper. Gaz, Soap, and Price all warmed up to you rather quickly. you were deadly on the field and friendly when everything was said and done. really, there was no one who didn't like you. you were just too nice, your smile too pure, for anyone to have any problem with you.

Ghost was the only exception. the prickly lieutenant wasn't too fond of having another sniper on the team to compete with, especially since you were, on the books, a better sniper than him. his orders to you were always barked with much more bite than the orders he gave to others. his gaze towards you was always draped with a slight scowl. when you'd get the perfect shot, or save the mission from failing, you never got any praise. all he would respond with was a silent stare that ripped your heart into shreds, or a grunt that sounded more like disapproval.

and you had enough of it.

you asked Ghost if you could speak with him one night while you all were on base, waiting for your next assignment. he couldn't mask the slight surprise in his eyes, before he nodded curtly.

when the time came for you to speak with him, you couldn't help how your heart almost escaped your chest. not only was he your superior, he was Ghost, the one soldier whom everyone feared, like a cryptid in some military folklore. and here you were, about to walk right into his lair, right into his sharp teeth. asking the wolf why he preyed on the lamb.

but there was another problem. Ghost, for all of his horror and renown on the field, was so fucking hot. how he stood tall with his arm crossed in all his masculine glory. how deep and raspy he sounded when he grunted, or how gravelly his voice was in the coms in your ear when he clipped orders at you. how his ass looked in those tactical pants, how you've spent many nights thinking about him as you stuffed your cunt with your fingers. you hated how his voice, his oh so mean voice reserved only for you, soaked your panties almost every time.

you knocked on the door to his office, trying to ignore your pumping heart and throbbing core as you stood and waited.

"come in," his deep voice sounded through the door. you slowly opened it and entered without looking at him as you shut the door. you took a deep breath and faced him, but you kept your back against the door.

"sir," you said dutifully. a formality that you cursed. "i wanted to speak to you about something." your voice shook slightly. despite all the things you've seen, all the people you've killed, this one man has the power to make you weak in the knees and in the head.

"yeah, figured that much," he said shortly. "spit it out."

you gulped, and you stepped forward a little. you would face him confidently, not cowering against the door like a student called into the principle's office. you summoned yourself here willingly, and there was no backing out.

"sir, i've been on the team for a while, and i would like to think that i've been a great asset. but i'm wonderiong if i've done anything to offend you?" you stated.

silence. you could've heard a pin drop in his office as he stared at you with his arm crossed, leaning back against his desk. his cold stare could've frozen your heart.

he wanted you to crack under his gaze. to spit out something stupid that would give him an excuse to dismiss you from the team. but you knew better. you met his deadly gaze head-on. if you were to die here, like this, at least you would do so standing up for yourself.

he slowly blinked, and you felt your heart drop when he finally spoke. "offended me?" he scoffed. "don't flatter yourself."

you slightly furrowed your brows.

"and what makes you think you've offended me?" he asked mockingly. your blood was boiling. you gulped. fuck it. if he was going to be so direct and curt, so were you.

"sir, you treat me differently than the others."

ghost stood up a bit straighter as he squared his shoulders, his arms still crossed on his chest.

"oh yeah?" he goaded. "how so?"

he knew the answer already. he wanted to make you crack, to hear you say it.

"sir, you're a lot... harder on me," you said slowly as you chose your words carefully. "it's the tone in your voice, and the way you look at me."

he inspected you for a moment. "the way i look at you, huh?" he said quietly.

"yes, sir," you said as confidently at you could.

ghost began to walk towards you, slowly, as if he were a beast stalking prey from the shadows. he made a beeline towards you.

"and how is it you think i look at you differently?" he was now within arm's reach as he looked down at you.

you almost lost your train of thought as you looked up at him. this close, he smelled like cigarettes and a tinge of whiskey, and gunpowder. you hated how hot, how attractive, it was. how his eyes stared into your own.

"sir, you..." you thought for a moment. the tension could've been cut with a knife. "you look at me very...disapprovingly."

ghost blinked. "oh, so you want my approval, is that it?" he quipped.

your eyes went wide for a moment before you shook your head. "no, sir. i just want to be treated like an equal member of this team."

your answer must've surprised him, because he leaned back ever so slightly as his eyes widened. but he quickly caught himself and resumed his dangerously indifferent stance.

"and what would it take to make you feel like an equal part of this team?" he asked.

you hadn't expected that. you cleared your throat before you spoke. "i'd just like you to talk to me the way you do to the other members, sir."

"you want me to talk to you like you're a man?" he knew that wasn't the answer.

"not exactly, sir. i just want to be treated like i'm an equal. i can't help but feel like you don't like me."

now he really hadn't expected you to say that. you could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"you come into my office and accuse me of not liking you?" he said coldly.

you looked him in the eyes. "sir, i didn't accuse you. i'm stating my observations and asking you to confirm or deny them."

he observed you for another moment before he started to slowly walk around you, until he was at your back. the hairs stood on the back of your neck as he leaned down to your ear.

"what about the way you look at me?" he whispered.

you instantly blushed, and your heart raced.

"i've seen the way you stare at me, how your eyes wander," he rasped. "how you stare at my arms and my cock."

"sir! i -" you squeaked. but you were cut off when one of his gloved hands came to rest over your mouth, and the other around your stomach, holding you against him. his hardening bulge was pressed against your ass.

"shh, don't want anyone else to hear this, do you?" he cooed in your ear. you breathed hard as you looked up at him, his gloved hand still covering your mouth.

"don't hide it, Reaper, i know you want me," he whispered in your ear. your eyes fluttered shut as you slightly relaxed against him. he smirked.

"that's what i thought." he let you go, and you quickly turned around to face him.

"you don't even know mean," he challenged as he looked at you with bedroom eyes through his skull mask. "i'll show you just how mean I can be."

you gulped again as you looked up at him.

"strip. before i rip those clothes off of you," he commanded.

you looked at him with wide eyes. you stopped breathing.

"that was an order, soldier," he said shorter this time. "don't test my patience."

you slightly nodded at him before you took off your shirt slowly. once it was off, you held it in front of you, over your stomach. but the warning in his eyes told you all you needed to know. you let your shirt drop to the floor with a quiet thud before you went to untie your shoes to remove them and your pants. most of your clothes were now in a heap on the floor next to you, your bra and panties still on.

"all of it. off." he snapped.

you blushed as you removed your undergarments, and wrapped your arms around your stomach as you stood bare before him. he breathed in deeply as he raked every inch of your body with his hungry eyes.

he jerked his head towards his desk. "bend over on the desk. now."

you slowly turned your back to him, walking towards his desk. it felt as if you were turning your back on a predator as you did so. you bent over on his desk until your elbows hit the smooth metal. your nipples perked up from the cold, and you looked behind you as you saw ghost approaching your naked body. the thud of his steps sounded like an earthquake to you as you waited with baited breath.

"look forward," he commanded once he made eye contact with you. you obeyed instantly. his presence could be felt right behind you now, and you gasped as a gloved finger slid over your wet pussy. ghost groaned.

"you can't hate me that much, to be this fucking wet for me," he growled as he all too gently rubbed your folds. "this pussy's just been achin' for me, hasn't it?"

"s...sir..." you said through labored breaths, your eyes screwed shut. but they flew open when he slapped your wet pussy. he huffed out his version of a laugh.

"that's what i thought." he pushed his index finger right against your clit, and you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes as he gently stroked it. "such a brave girl, coming into my office like this. you just wanted my cock so bad."

you shook your head. "no, no that's not why I came. oh!" he pressed harder against your clit, and your body shivered.

"pretendin' to be mad at me. it's got me worked up, i'll give ya that," he said as he splayed one hand over your back, pressing you down.

"i am mad - fuck!" you gasped as he inserted two gloved fingers into your pussy and began to stroke. you couldn't help the moans that flew from your mouth as he hit that spot that made you see stars.

"nothin' but a moanin' bitch for me now that i've got my fingers in you."

you grit your teeth and bit your tongue so that you wouldn't moan. he withdrew his fingers from your pussy but still held your back down. you looked back at him angrily.

"oh, that upset her," he teased. he leaned forward, and his voice took a much deeper and serious tone. "you're going to have to beg for it."

"fuck you," you said on instinct. but your eyes went wide as you realized what you had just said to your superior.

and ghost laughed. "i could dismiss you just for that, you know?" he said as he began to tease your entrance again. your eyes fluttered shut. "but i'm willing to forgive you if you beg for my fingers."

you grit your teeth. the feeling of his gloved fingers against your wet slit was perfect, but not enough. his fingers had filled you up so well, so much better than your own.

"please," you whispered.

"hm? didn't hear you," ghost said as he gently teased your entrance with his fingertips. you gasped.

"p...please," you said a bit louder.

"please what?" his fingertips slid in and out of your pussy.

you whimpered. "please, please i need your fingers."

"atta girl," he cooed as he pressed two fingers inside of you again. you gasped louder this time as he stroked them perfectly on your g-spot. "you sure you want to be treated equally?" he egged you on. "i don't treat any other task force members like this."

you moaned as he continued to stroke you, but suddenly the hand that was on your back came up to your hair and pulled your head back towards him. his fingers began to fuck you at a brutal pace and you screwed your eyes shut.

"i asked you a question, Reaper," ghost spat.

you tried to remember his question as his fingers fucked you. he shook his head. "already forgot? dumb bitch. i asked if you wanted to still be treated like an equal."

you moaned as his fingers curved at the end with each thrust. "n...no!!"

ghost released your hair and held you down again as his fingers continued to fuck you brutally. the sounds of your wet pussy filled his office.

"that's what i thought."

your body began to shake as your climax neared. ghost was just way too good at this, with the way his fingers curled precisely where they needed him to and the pressure of his hand against your back.

"ghost....i'm!"

right as you were about to climax, the second you were about to come, ghost withdrew his fingers from you. you looked back at him wildly, your face red. "what...what the fuck..." you nearly sobbed.

ghost slapped your pussy, and you jumped. "you really think i'd let you come that easily?"

you heard the metal of his belt clinking and the soft sound of a zipper being opened. you tried to turn to see his cock, but one of his hands flew to the back of your head and held your head down on the table.

"you stay still," he growled. you had no other choice but to comply, and you did so willingly. he eased the tip of his cock inside your weeping slit, and you gasped. you thought the process was going to be slow, given how slowly he put his tip inside you, but he suddenly thrusted his entire length into you. his gloved hand closed over your mouth before you could scream.

"stay quiet," he rasped in your ear. you could feel his cock twitching in your warm walls. he groaned when you clenched around him. "gonna use this pussy now."

ghost set a brutal pace immediately, his balls hanging down and slapping your wet clit with each thrust. he stayed leaned over you, holding one hand behind your back by your wrist, with his other hand around your mouth. he grunted quietly with each thrust.

"I know you've been wantin' this."

you clenched around him, and he laughed.

"you like it when I'm mean to you," he stated. but you were too far gone to respond. "you like it when I yell at you, when I put you in your place."

you moaned loudly under his hand as your eyes screwed shut.

"can't let a pretty little face like yours make me go soft," he mumbled against the back of your head.

his words faded, and the tip of his cock reached all the way to your cervix as you moaned against his hand. your toes began to lift from the floor as he fucked up into you harder. you gripped the metal desk as hard as you could before you suddenly came hard on his cock. ghost couldn't hold back the strangled moan that escaped him.

"you like comin' around this cock?" he whispered. you nodded vigorously. "gonna cum in this tight pussy."

he thrusted hard into you, the slaps of skin so lewd, a few more times before he came inside you with a groan. he stood above you, panting, as you both came to your senses. he pulled out and immediately pressed two gloved fingers against your slit to prevent his cum from leaking out. you looked back at him, your hair frizzy and face red.

"still think I'm mean to you?"

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lloromanic0 · 5 months

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It's almost 3 and im thinking about older tom rn. maybe like 2019?.... like him in that "When It Rains It Pours" Music Video did something too me. maybe reader is lit like "omg?..." and their together also. and bla blah bla, BOOM. smut! :3

If your comfortable doing it!!

He looks so good in this clip help me.

(Thank you so much for the request hope you enjoy!!)

Content: just Tom fingering female reader, he calls you lots of cute name🤭

Smut warning MDNI!!!

You waited for your boyfriend Tom Kaulitz in his dressing room, today he was shooting a music video for his band’s new single “When it rains it pours.”

In the dressing room there was a monitor where you could watch the video being recorded live,suddenly Tom appeared on the screen, his long wet hair and his white sleeveless shirt now completely see through due to the water that was sprayed on him previously. The camera now filming his toned back that you got to see every day but this time it felt different, the expressions he made while he passionately played his guitar made your body temperature rise. You just kept admiring all the screen time he had as you got turned on even more each time you got a glimpse of your handsome boyfriend. The more you looked at him the urge to touch yourself just kept growing,unexpectedly the screen went black probably meaning it was break time,which got you distracted from your previous thoughts.

You heard the door behind you crack open

“Hallo Schatzi.” said Tom with a smile on his face. You ran to hug him.

“Hallo mein liebe.” You gave him a small kiss on the lips.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asked while pointing to the monitor.

“Hmhm very much. You looked so…hot.”

“Oh you think so?” He grabbed your hips firmly maintaining eye contact with you for a while, your cheeks felt hot again and your mouth fell open in shock from the sudden action.

“Du bist so süß” he caressed your cheek, the water from his hair now dripping on your face.

“You look even better now that you’re here Tom.” He kissed your neck as he moved his large hands on your hips.

“Hhmm tell me more Schatzi. What were you thinking about when you were watching me on the monitor?” You sightly moan as his kisses got longer and sloppier.

“M-my body got really hot and..I wanted to touch myself.”

“Hhmm should we take care of that?”

He sat on the couch spreading his legs so you could sit between them.

“Spread your legs for me baby.”

You did as he said, his hands massaging your inner thighs,making you shiver under his touch. He loved seeing you needy for him the way you moved your hips forward seeking some sort of stimulation just making him wanting to tease you more.

“P-please touch me Tom…”

“I will Schatzi, be patient.”

He slowly moved his hand closer to your clothed cunt, lightly moving his finger over it.

Your voice hitched at the his light touches and your legs shivered every time his finger went over your covered clit. He took your panties off throwing them on the floor, his index and middle finger now spreading your wet folds teasing you a bit more. He slowly inserted his middle finger in your pussy stretching you out so that he could insert another finger after. Now his ring and middle fingers were stretching you out, he pumped them at a steady pace curling them every now and then, your moans getting louder even tho you had to keep it down.

“Ssshhh Prinzessin you don’t want anyone to catch us do you? What would they think of you seeing you in such a sluty state?”

You bite your lip so that your moans couldn’t escape but the way he was hitting your sweet spot repeatedly didn’t make it easy for you to keep quiet.

His other hand that he was using to keep your legs open trailed down to rub circles on your clit, the double stimulation making it unbearable to not moan, so you covered your mouth with one hand.

“Oh baby you’re so cute, am I making you feel that good?” You nodded firmly, making his smile turn into a smirk.

As he kept applying pressure on your sensitive clit your legs started to tremble and that familiar knot on your stomach getting more and more unbearable each time he curled his fingers inside your hole.

“T-tom I’m cumming~” you announced, struggling not to moan out loud.

“Go ahead Prinzessin cum for me.” He replied kissing and bitting your neck, his fingers moving firmly at a faster pace as you eventually reached your orgasm. He removed his fingers for your hole unhurriedly, his other hand still circling your clit slowly making you enjoy your orgasm until you became too sensitive for his touch.

“Ich liebe dich mein Engel.“ he whispered.

“Ich liebe dich mehr.” You replied giving him a little kiss on the lips.

———————————————————————-

Note: I always forget this but do you need me to add the translation to the German sentences/words I use?🥲

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel tom kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel smut

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thelovelyruin · 7 months

Text

10 𝖏𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖗𝖗 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : nanami x fem reader (celebrity au!)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : being married to a celebrity comes with more than what you expected.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : angst with a happy ending, smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, choking, praise, pet names (good girl and pretty), love, teasing, fingering, edging, overstimulation, mentions on stress and anxiety, arguing, stalking? (from paparazzi), hate sex, breakup sex, established relationship

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 3.1k

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from 10 james orr street by strawberry switchblade.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it, if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

A note dropped through the door, tells us to go, but I know that you will tell them to go somewhere else.

You walk in front of Nanami now, your security guards trying to escort you two into your Hollywood Hills home. Camera flashes blind you as you attempt to walk to the front door, but one particular asshole decides to get in front of you both to take a photo. That was the last straw for Nanami.

“Give me that damn camera. You think it’s okay to take pictures of people on their property? I’ll get you arrested, motherfucker!”

Nanami took the camera and threw it on your stone driveway, destroying it. He realized at that moment that his actions would result in even more drama for the news to exploit. He could see it now, "Kento Nanami gone crazy, commits vandalism". You guys finally reach the door, the security guards open it for you as you rush in, Nanami slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

Because you know that I want to stay in this house forever, I don't want to ever leave.

It all started when you and Nanami decided to go public with your engagement. His fans were shocked, considering you guys kept your dating lowkey, but once you agreed to marry him, Nanami thought it would be appropriate to let the world know you were about to be Mrs. Nanami. Then, there was the wedding, which thankfully you had in Greece, meaning less paparazzi, but more of them waiting for the newlywed's arrival back home. All you could do was prepare for the change that came with being Nanami’s wife.

For a while, you were hiding out in Nanami’s second home in Bel Air, but why were you hiding? Because you wanted to go on a simple trip to the beach with Mei Mei last month. You went onto social media that night and endlessly scrolled through posts of people commenting on your bikini-clad body. She’s gained weight. She’s getting thinner. It’s like they couldn’t make up their fucking minds. Then there was the next week when you and Nanami walked the red carpet for his new movie premiere. You were absolutely stunning, at least that’s what your husband and friends told you, but you felt anything but. Being overstimulated by the camera flashes, you let go of Nanami’s arm before you could get overwhelmed, in which he didn’t force you because he was aware of your intentions. Oh, but you were so stupid for that. Constant break-up rumors hit the internet, and that was a hot topic. So much so, Wendy fucking Williams featured you on her show. Humiliated, Nanami decided you should stay home for a while to let things cool off, and of course, you couldn’t listen.

How could I ever live in another? This is where I want to be.

You walk towards the kitchen, grabbing a drink of water to decompress as Rob and the other escorts work on closing every curtain in the house. Nanami, obviously furious, walks to the living room, grabbing the TV remote. He turns it onto TMZ, where they’re talking about you out for lunch at Cecconi’s in West Hollywood earlier today.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I give you one fucking rule, don’t leave the damn house without me!”

“Kento, I-”

“Then, not only do you leave without me, you leave without an escort. Anything could’ve happened to you!”

The next clip shows you throwing your middle finger up to an undercover paparazzi taking pictures of you while you were eating, causing Nanami to begin pacing about the living room.

“And that, what the fuck is that? You’re practically begging to get bombarded with negative articles.”

You fix your face into a fit and walk up to Nanami in the living room, slamming your things down on the table, you two yelling at this point.

“Negative articles, that’s what you’re worried about? Excuse me, MR. BIG TIME MOVIE STAR, I didn’t mean to go outside to take a breather and spend time with myself. ALONE. ”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it. I could care less about what they say about me, I’m trying to protect you! Every fucking thing I’ve done has been to protect you!”

“I’m tired of this shit, what did you want me to do? Smile for the fucking picture while I chow down on my fucking ravioli?”

Nanami sighs and wipes his hand down his face, walking up to you and grabbing your hands in his.

“You know what? I’m tired of this shit too. Trust me when I say I love you, but I can’t have you going through this constantly. We should get a divorce.”

At that moment, you felt your entire world crashing. Your house began falling apart brick by brick, the curtains were burning, and the floor was crumbling. You throw his hands out of yours, pacing back and forth with your hands in your hair. Long story short, you were losing your shit.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. It’s the only way-”

You know that there won't be a high wall I can’t climb and find the things that I find.

“Kento, you’re not serious. You’re not fucking serious right now. Is it because I didn’t listen to you? I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve stayed put and waited for you or Rob to take me out.”

“It’s not that simple. You’ve been harassed for weeks on end, just for fucking breathing at this point. I can’t keep seeing you hurt.”

“I can go back to Bel Air and hide out there again. I’ll stay there as long as you need me to!”

“So they can follow you there? And then what, hm? We have to move you all over again? No, we get a divorce and then my fans and the media will leave you alone.”

“But, baby, I, just please…”

“I’M NOT ARGUING WITH YOU ANYMORE. Start packing your things and Rob and the others will help you move them out. I’ll get you an apartment in Soho, but you’ll have to wear a disguise for a while. I won’t be seeing you anymore, it’s for your own good. ”

I'll have to leave them where they are, I don't want to go far.

And with that, you begin to cry. Grabbing your purse off the table, you wipe away your tears and run towards the grand staircase, throwing your MACH & MACH heels over the balcony. Nanami hears the sound of your heels hitting the floor, rushing to the lower landing to ensure your well-being, only to be met with your clothes being thrown over the balcony at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Throwing all of the shit you bought for me out! Keep all of this shit, I don’t want it anymore.”

“Oh, don’t be such a goddamn cunt about this. You know I fucking love you.”

You stand at the top of the balcony, looking him in his eyes as you throw your rolex over the edge, diamonds scattering all over the floor below.

“Fuck you.”

A tear-stained pillow doesn't seem to help me, I can't make you change your mind.

You begin to grab your cosmetics out of the master bathroom, frustratedly dropping toothpaste and lotion bottles amidst your tirade. You run back into your separate closet, scouring the shelves for a bag big enough to hold your clothes, but alas, you realize your efforts were in vain when all you find are your Birkins. Pacing about the room, looking for the clothes you had before you met Nanami. Then you remember, you have your Goyard duffle in his closet, which as much as you hated it, you were gonna have to use. Walking across the hall, you see Nanami coming up midway on the staircase. You chuckle a bit, running to the closet to grab the duffle before he can stop you. Unfortunately for you, when you turn around to exit the room, Nanami stands in the doorway.

I look through my window and I see all I want to, how can I leave it all behind me now?

“What the fuck are you doing?”

You push by him, pissing him off even further. You’re walking back to your closet now, Nanami closely behind.

“What do you mean, Kento? I’m packing my things.”

“No, you’re going on a rampage!”

As you walk into the master bedroom again, you get a glimpse of the backyard through the window, memories of you and Nanami dancing on the patio together and friends coming over for discrete cookouts. And now here you are, leaving it all because he was picking his fans over his wife.

I've done all I can do, I want to stay here.

“A rampage? Bitch, I can show you a rampage.”

With that, you walk back into your closet, throwing clothes off hangers as he stands in the doorway, scorching with anger. Every piece of clothing you throw, Nanami picks up and places in a pile on the bed, presumably to organize later. In revolt, you walk out into the bedroom, throwing them back on the floor again.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“The fuck am I doing? You mean, the fuck are YOU doing?”

This could be my home forever, but you say I can't come back ever.

You walk up to Nanami, glaring up at him, considering he was much taller than you (not to mention his bigger frame).

“You tell me you want a divorce, how do you expect me to react? Be a good little wife and kiss your ass, ‘Oh, Kento, I understand.’ Then you must be fucking DELUSIONAL!”

Picking up the clothes from the bed, you begin throwing them at him.

“You ungrateful motherfucker… I BUILT THIS HOUSE, ME! I picked the goddamn floorplan and the furniture and everything? Who do you think manages things around here when…you’re off shooting another movie…or screenwriting another TV show? Me, you asshole! You get to come home and relax after working, and what do I get?... Harassed by your…fucking…fans…because you’re too scared…to tell them to FUCK OFF!”

You don't know just how much I wish I could stay in this house forever…

In a swift motion, Nanami comes over to where you’re standing on the other side of the room, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you roughly. At first, you try to push him off, but eventually, you give in. You know you can’t resist him, not when he’s kissing you like he’s gonna eat you alive. He quickly brings his hands up to lift your legs off the floor, wrapping them around his waist as he drops you on the bed, much too frustrated to be gentle with you. And that’s where the love bites come in, licking and sucking at your neck like some kind of animal and it just feels so good. Especially when he brings his hand up to your tits, pulling your shirt down to release your breasts, expeditiously putting one in his mouth, rubbing your nipple between his tongue and teeth. You push him back, leaving him in an upright position where he has the perfect view of you. Frantically, you begin making work of his button-up, and when you get caught on the top button, he rips his damn shirt off. But who cares right? What’s another $300 shirt? He makes it quick when he pulls your shirt off of you, then your shorts, and finally, flips you onto your stomach so he can unstrap your bra. His lips are back on you now, licking and sucking his way down your back, breathing down your spine as you let out soft moans into the pillow. He stops at your panties, bringing the fabric of your thong between his teeth as he brings his fingers up to hook under the strap. He rips them off, which was the least of your concerns, especially when your husband is lifting your lower body up so that you’re on your knees.

…I don't want to ever leave.

Nanami pulls you closer to him, hooking his arms under your legs to bring you close to his face. And then, well, he goes to town. His tongue starts to pump in and out of your pussy, hearing the mewls and squeals you’re trying to hide in the pillow. He pulls his tongue away, watching you squirm and whimper for it to come back.

“Stop moaning in to the pillow, I wanna hear you, baby.”

“Oh, I thought I wasn’t your ‘baby’ anymore?”

He’s angry, bringing his face down to eat you again, and he’s fucking amazing at it, making you feel like a virgin with how fast your orgasm was coming. He’s got your clit now, sucking at the bud like there’s no tomorrow. And you’re a mess, moaning his name into the air and gripping your fingers into the bedding. Nanami bring his hands up over your legs to massage your ass, gripping and slapping the skin and he swears he’s fallen in love with you all over again.

You’re nearly at the end now, that fire burning inside you and Nanami’s tongue being the damn gasoline. Sure, you were still mad at him, but currently, all you could think about was the way he was fucking his tongue into you, lapping your juices up happily, dedicated to making you cum on his face. And that’s exactly what you did. As your body began to jerk, he brought your pussy closer to his face, so close that it was suffocating him, but who cares if he couldn’t breathe? His pretty little wife was cumming so lovely on his lips, to which he drank up, fully indulging your essence. As you were coming down, your body turned to mush and you sank into the bed, but that didn’t stop Nanami from continuing.

“Ken, I can’t…”

“I know you can, pretty girl. Give me one more.”

How could I ever live in another?

Overstimulated and spent, you come down from your second orgasm, but you knew Nanami wasn’t done with you. He quickly pulled you to the end of the bed, pumping his fingers inside you to prepare you for his dick, which he was pulling out of his pants. Your mind was still fuzzy, because you hadn’t even heard his belt fall to the floor, or his pants, or his boxers, or his watch, or his chain. Well, you woke up pretty damn fast when you felt him slowly sink into you. You swear you died in that moment, drowning in lust as Nanami parted your pussy like the red sea. But now, he was teasing you, moving his hips at a terribly slow pace, and to be frank, it was pissing you off.

“Kento…”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Please, just fuck me already!”

“If you insist, dear.”

You’re beginning to wish you hadn’t said that. Nanami started fucking you at a dangerous pace, bouncing you back onto his dick just to slam his hips back into you again. His hands were on your hips now, fucking you deeper and harder, making you moan gibberish into the air. He brings a hand up to slap your ass, reveling in the sound of it smacking against his stomach. He laughs a bit as you moan with every slap.

“Look at you, such a brat earlier, and now you’re falling apart on my dick.”

“Fuck you.”

“Trust me I am.”

Immediately, Nanami halts, pulling up your upper half, his hand gripping your shoulder as he begins fucking the shit out of you. If you thought you were going mad before, it was definitely happening now. All you can say is his name as he drills his dick into you, hand around your throat as he makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can tell he’s close from the way he’s panting and moving at a more rhythmic pace. He lets your shoulder go slowly, bringing your body back down to meet the sheets. One hand on your side and the other gripping the bed, he lowers down to your face, sucking on your neck as he fucks into you deep and slow. His face is nuzzling in your neck and hair, taking in your scent as he hears you moan and groan at the pace of his hips. You’re so close and Nanami knows too, that’s why he’s fucking that spot in you that has you throwing your head back and losing yourself on his dick.

“C’mon baby, give it to me. I wanna feel you cum for me.”

That was it for you, body spasming from your third orgasm. You ride it out as you feel Nanami fill you up, groaning and whimpering your name into your ear, sucking the skin there and panting.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. My pretty little wife.”

This is where I want to be.

Nanami falls to your side, groaning sadly as he pulls his dick out of you. Both of you stare at the ceiling now, panting like you ran a marathon. He looks over at you and then gets up to go to the bathroom, you hear him organizing something as you remember you pretty much moved like a tornado in the bathroom trying to pack your things. Shortly, he come out with a washcloth in hand, cleaning you up while you squirm from overstimulation. He cleans himself and throws it into the hamper in the bathroom, walking back to you on the bed and lays down. He pulls his arm around you and you can’t bring yourself to take it off of you.

“I’m gonna get you more security and tint the windows on the Ghost, the Aventador too. We should probably get you therapy too for all the stress and anxiety this has given you. I’ll have Alexandra fix your things back in the closet and I’ll take you to replace the damaged items. I’m gonna talk to my manager and see if he can organize paying some of the snappers to fuck off, I’ll be going on to my socials to tell my fans to relax. Can’t keep fucking with my girl.”

As he kisses your forehead, you feel yourself exhausted, lying on Nanami’s chest as you fall asleep. He nuzzles his face in your hair, holding your hand and rubbing his finger against the 4-carat diamond ring that adorned it. There’s no way he could leave his pretty little wife.

You know that I don't want to go.

♱ the song used in this story is 10 james orr street by strawberry switchblade. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

#nanami x reader #nanamixreader #nanami x female reader #nanami x fem!reader #nanami x f!reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami angst #nanami fanfic #nanami fic #nanami kento #kento nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #jjk angst #thelovelyruin #thelovelyarcana #Spotify

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accio-victuuri · 5 months

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cpn time: yibo’s new songs 🎧

here we are, two songs and a bunch of short video clips later, but this post will be more about the lyrics. if you haven’t listened to the tracks then please enjoy bystander and everything is lovely first before anything else. i’m so thankful that wyb has kept his promise to fans of bringing us a new song every year and also performing it during nye. he may not be the most obvious when it comes to appreciating his fans but this is the best example of his commitment to sharing himself to fans and treating us.

i will start with some minor clues before we get into the lyrics and all that clowning interpretation. 🙇‍♀️

1. The first 3 photos that yibo-official released as soon as it turned 12:00, one of them was color pink, or you can say, very light shade of red. His photos released before had a more solid red like that from a traffic light but this one leans more towards pink.

A very nice choice of color knowing how he relates pink to being the color of love and and all the other symbolism we attached to it.

& when yibo posted it, he placed the pink one in the middle vs yibo-official’s who placed it on the right.

2. Same choice of words between their studios, especially with reference to the gap of time. We are definitely looking closer than a normal fan would when it comes to their studio’s captions, edits, posting time etc and to a normal fan this would just fly over their head. but the amount of coincidence between the two is too much!

3. QQ released parts of the lyrics and this one, the chorus of everything is lovely ( up to the part talking about love of coming home ), the word love was mentioned 23 times. Love Zhan. I mean, we all know this boys loves 2 and 3 😂😂😂

4. The timing of release for their projects this day. Another example of how they don’t overlap with the day or time. XZ’s marie claire was between 10-12 and then WYB stuff of course started coming out at 12:00. this follows their pattern 👀

5. I really like what this bxg discovered, the way everything is lovely was written, if you turn in upside down it may read wyb loves xz. 🤯🤯🤯

for those of us who have been subjected to xz’s artwork and the little things he hides, this should be believable to you. he is known to do these things, even without the cpn intention.

==================

BYSTANDER

I gotta say, i’m leaning more towards this song, i didn’t expect it! I just love how it sounds and i’m with those who felt nostalgic while listening to it. it seems familiar and brand new at the same time. The melody of the first few lines got me thinking of words ( bee gees ) and the guitar/drums played are excellent too! I hope he sings this with a live band please! 🙏🏼

I often watch, listen and feel like reaching out to touch.

Holding a handful of seawater to see it’s dreamlike color.

this is more of a song ( atleast to me ) that speaks of who WYB is as a person. a bystander/spectator/onlooker. he is someone who observes people and keeps quiet first before engaging. but that doesn’t mean he is indifferent, in this song, he talks about admiring the things around him.

i’m also thinking of a wish to be a bystander. XZ/WYB repeatedly said that the super power they wish to have in invisibility so they just roam around without people noticing them. in a way, it’s wyb’s ( and by extension xz ) wish to be able to do this.

Embrace all the joys and sorrows of life. Listen to the plucked feathers speak, wings aiming for the vast sky.

Watch a fallen leaf repeating until the four seasons bring it back to the branch. I cannot see another galaxy but believe in me in a more distant place.

i see this as basically yibo and zz’s view in life, they are willing to go through the good and bad. their lives may seem ideal because they are celebrities but it’s far from that so they just have to focus on the good.

Don’t ask me what i’m looking for, let life pass through.

it’s him just wanting to be left alone, to allow him to go through his life without people watching his every move. or maybe there isn’t anything he is looking for or aiming for, he is just enjoying and going through his life. This line speaks to me so much! There’s really no need to be constantly trying to achieve things and be exhausted by the end of it. Sometimes, it’s okay to sit back and enjoy the simple things.

EVERYTHING IS LOVELY

I have discussed this song before, especially the chorus that covers a lot of the CPNs. I feel the same way about my interpretation of those lines even after learning the lyrics of the whole song.

My hands, accustomed to patting my head, opening up the memory of the river and pond. There are always a few good friends by the side.

Listening to the cicadas, watching the fishing boats.

WYB who likes to pat his head as an example 😂 so this is really from his POV and a more personal touch to start this song.

Listening to the cicadas and watching the fishing boat? This paints a picture of them during CQL shoot and hanging out.

I’m cackling tho at bxg interpretation of the lines that talk about river & ponds and then him having friends on the side. So who are the friends by that pod? Turtles? LOL. 😂😂😂😂

How to distinguish between people, whether post-00s are young or very mature.

This is so WYB. Reminding us of when he always made a point to say that GG looks so young or that they have no age gap 🥹🥹🥹

Under the mud, lotus roots finally grown. Please, lotus flowers do not look back.

Lotus roots/ Lotus flowers. What a peculiar choice to include in the song. Maybe there is some deeper explanation here that has something to do with culture or what but as a clown, our minds went to CQL.

It’s a part of the story and who can forget that behind the scenes of WYB pulling out those lotus seeds for XZ? 🙃

I tightly hold on to the people i once lost.

I like the way some people have interpreted this line. If what we think is true, that they lost each other at some point after the cql shoot then this line makes sense. They had some time apart after that shoot and XZ went to Japan to clear his head. The people around them also encouraged to take this time away from each other and get out of character. But they still found their way back as XZ/WYB. 🤍

The main thing in this song tho is— everything is lovely because you (xz) are in everything. 😭😭😭😭

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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katarinamiljkovic66 · 7 months

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~"Arrivals and Departures" exhibition~

🎥 Activity title: "Arrivals and Departures" exhibition

🎥 Duration and Amount: October 19th, two hours

🎥 Type of activity: creativity

~ Activity Description ~

The students of Visual Arts went to see the "Arrivals and Departures" exhibition that was being held at Banja Luka's Museum of Contemporary Art. The exhibition's author is Mladen Bundalo, an interdisciplinary artist born in Prijedor who has moved away and now lives in Belgium. Through his works, he wished to capture the transience of life, as well as childhood nostalgia, and the effect they have on one's current and future identity.

We were introduced to Isidora, a friend of the author who worked on this project along with him. She provided us with background information on how these works came to be and told us a bit more about the idea behind each work. She also told us that the name of the exhibition was a play on words, since the museum we were in was once a railway station.

The first work we were introduced to was "Knots", which consisted of a bunch of different, framed knot designs. This work came about from the fact that there is not a single knot that is the same; every knot that we tie comes out differently. For me, this work represents the different paths we take in life and how they all enrich us in some way.

The poem "Universe" explains this work even further.

This four-player chessboard was handmade by the author. It's hardly noticeable, but there is a faint line cutting through the middle. Though it was an accident, it worked in the author's favor since he ended up really liking it, which is why he kept it. The pieces are movable, so if anyone wishes to play chess while they're there, they're free to do so.

There was one other interactive work that those who attended the exhibition on the opening evening had the chance to participate in. There were 50 pieces of white fabric on which everyone was to draw their ideal world — a perfect place for living. Each piece of fabric was then placed on a separate wooden pole, which resulted in 50 different flags.

We had the opportunity to watch a movie about the author's life. The movie contained bits and pieces of not only his life but also parts of his friends and family's lives. It was made up of a number of clips; some of them were in his mother tongue, while others were in French. One clip that was comical but also a bit horrific was the one in which he, along with his wife, who is from Belgium, had to prove their marriage was real to the legal authorities. From the way it was presented, it seemed like a traumatic experience to be continuously doubted and questioned about whether you truly love someone you consider family.

This next work was one of the most difficult ones to make since it required a real bus. Not only that, the piece had to be cut perfectly so that it would fit. They also had to make it look good, which was not easy considering the fact that they used a damaged vehicle. There was a film being projected on the wall next to the windows, so we were able to watch it while seated, giving us a feeling as if we were traveling along with the moving pictures.

~ Reflection ~

This exhibition definitely hits close to home. Having had close family members move away while I was still young, I'm not unfamiliar with migrations and how they can affect a person's well-being, especially if they're moving far away from their family. It's usually accompanied by a deep sense of nostalgia as well as homesickness for things that we usually take for granted. I think everyone should visit this exhibition, especially the younger generations, since it is related to them. There will come a day when we experience true longing for something or someone. But there's nothing to fear since we're bound to find another path that will lead us somewhere new or lead us back home. To a place where we belong.

~ Learning Outcomes ~

🎥 Demonstrate how to initiate and plan a CAS experience

🎥 Show commitment to and perseverance in CAS experiences

🎥 Demonstrate engagement with issues of global significance

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elmhat · 1 year

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I posted 71 times in 2022

That's 71 more posts than 2021!

27 posts created (38%)

44 posts reblogged (62%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theminecraftbox

@elmhat

@simplepotatofarmer

@respiteresponse

@lookinghalfacorpse

I tagged 65 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#reblogs - 35 posts

#c!dream - 21 posts

#dsmp - 17 posts

#dreblr - 11 posts

#las nevadas - 9 posts

#c!quackity - 9 posts

#dsmp analysis - 9 posts

#dream smp - 8 posts

#pandora's vault - 8 posts

#my writing - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#the events involving the butcher army are also recent in techno's mind

My Top Posts in 2022:

good authority

Read on AO3.

Purpled and Punz had made a deal.

Now, Dream sculpts Slime into his own weapon.

The mask above Charlie’s face was familiar.

Not the comforting familiarity of Las Nevadas, of bright lights and big halls and people who never seemed to sleep. No, this was more of a twisted nostalgia. He cast his mind back, to months and years of digging himself in and watching the world go by.

Such memories told him that this mask belonged to Dream. More recent memories told him that this was an extremely bad thing. Dream meant danger.

There was a sword at Dream’s hip.

32 notes - Posted November 22, 2022

the new plan

(My fic for stagedduo day! Thanks to @aphaerie for organising this!)

Read on AO3.

After the failed attack on Las Nevadas, Dream refuses to leave the prison.

When he and Punz finally talk, Dream isn't behaving as expected.

Only a month after the Las Nevadas attack did Punz see Dream again.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Every night, they paced up and down the tower, biting back frustration every time they asked to talk face to face again, now that things had gone so horribly wrong. It doesn’t even have to be in the prison, they had said, and they hadn’t mentioned the way the vines and overgrowth made it feel more like a tomb than a home.

Dream had, instead, kept them updated on the situation in clipped notes over the communicator. It was an inefficient system at best, a breakdown in cooperation at worst, not to mention how a bullet point summary gave Punz exactly no insight into Dream’s mental state.

40 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

// dsmp rp

I'm obsessed with how Dream and Punz ruined their lives trying to save the world and cheat death, putting themselves through hell and back to discover some greater meaning about this unnatural power, while DreamXD watched them knowing full well he only dropped the books into the world because he sorta felt like it one day.

54 notes - Posted December 1, 2022

Engaging in fandom spaces, whether it's art or writing or edits or another form of expression, comes from a place of genuine passion. It's creating for the love of creating, because you deeply care about the media. And that's terrifying.

That kind of vulnerability is stressful! It gets easy to wonder if you're just being stupid, to think that nothing you've done is as good as other people's so you might as well just quit. It's made worse by the the types of numerical validation you see on every site, even here. No one else cares about what you're making, the numbers prove it, so why should you?

But here's the thing. The impact you're leaving cannot be measured by numbers. I'm speaking from experience. Until recently, I never even had accounts for engaging with the content I enjoyed. I would hang around Tumblr and Twitter and AO3, completely anonymously, and it was amazing. I've read fics that have brought me to tears, that have been some of the most beautiful pieces of fiction I've ever read, period. And the authors would never have known!

And maybe it does seem a touch selfish not to share around content I enjoyed to give it more traction, and maybe I should have done better, but once again, fandom spaces are scary. The longer I spend in them, the more I realize that other people feel the same way! There are so many people out there, waiting for every new post, enthusing over every little thing you make, who you don't even know exist.

The whole point of a fandom is that it's a community. We're all here for the same reasons. For as long as you make fan content, there will always be someone out there to appreciate it.

67 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I was rewatching Bad's prison visit and it hit me how Sam really asks people, "Do you think the prisoner is deserving of being locked up in the prison?"

Just, the implications of that question. This isn't a fun little quiz, these are questions that could deny you entry from the prison. It goes against the mechanical way Sam would treat the prison itself, with its safety measures and procedures that he must follow every time, those same redstone mechanisms he maintains seamlessly.

And yes, you could argue that it's logical to want to know if a visitor is likely to want to break Dream out, but it's not like they would actually answer truthfully if they did. It's yet another way that Sam tries to apply objective logic to a situation that requires nuance.

Which begs the question, is anyone who thinks Dream doesn't deserve to be locked up evil too? What do they deserve? Does having these thoughts, even without acting on them, warrant punishment? If Bad had turned around and said no, I don't think Dream deserves this, would Sam have simply sent him away, or would that not be enough to keep the prison safe?

214 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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juniwilson · 2 years

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Final Confessional

Mentions: Chris, Raj, Thomas, Luna, Riley, Emmie, Xavier, Emma Notes: Juniper’s last Ship-Wrecked confessional

Juniper settled into the producer’s bungalow, clipping the mic to the strap of their sports bra their hair fell in their face. Once the mic was taken care of, they tucked their hair behind their ears and swallowed back the bit of nervousness that crept up from memories of the first time they’d done a confessional, and how much they tried to keep every subsequent one brief.

“So, the baby news is out and everybody seems to be pretty happy and supportive of you and Chris,” the producer said, leading Juni to smile brightly.

“Uh-huh. It’s not something that we could have kept quiet about for much longer than we did, and especially now that I’m showing.”

“What are your thoughts about becoming a parent?”

With a small giggle, she admitted, “I thought it was a bit obvious by now that I’m excited. I’ve said that I want children and I’m fortunate that not only is that happening but it’s happening with someone who’s on the same page with me wanting to become a parent.”

“Since you made the announcement, how’s Chris taking it all?”

Juniper was still smiling but shrugged, “Oh, Chris has been amazing! I honestly couldn’t ask for a better partner, not just for myself but for our baby. But honestly, you should ask him. I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you.”

“True, we’ll have to get him in here soon. We know you two didn’t plan this but is it overwhelming to be in a new relationship and having a baby on the way, all so soon?”

“Well, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming but not in a bad way. I love Chris. He’s so sweet, attentive, charming, and caring. And I love this baby already. I’m doing everything I can to take care of myself, and I love thinking about what this little one will be like, and what life will be like once they’re here.” At that, she cradled her bump affectionately and then went on to say, “When I think about the speed of it all happening, sometimes that thought overwhelms me. But I wouldn’t change anything about Chris and I being where we’re at. If I could, it would just be us getting to meet each other sooner.”

The producer nodded while asking, “So does this mean your feelings for Raj are behind you?”

Juni’s eyes widen, “Of course, yes. I’m a monogamous person and I had already taken my time to put those feelings behind me before I’d met Chris. Raj and I have a really good friendship and it’s something I’m grateful for.”

“What other friendships did you make while here that you’re hoping to maintain off of the island?”

“There isn’t anyone that I don’t want to maintain or grow a friendship with, but I really treasure Thomas, Luna, Riley, and Xavier. I’ve had some really great and meaningful conversations with Thomas. Luna and Xavier have been there for me a couple of times when I really struggled being here. Emma and I connected and I wish she had been here sooner--not that that will keep me from wanting to grow a friendship with her back home. And Riley’s been really sweet and funny. I hope I’ll get to know all of them some more back in The City.

The producer wasted no time to ask, “What about your friendship with Emmie?”

Juniper goes quiet, tucking their lips in for a moment. And after a deep breath, they tell the producer, “Emmie knows I was really hurt by what happened before. But she’s apologized and it’s not something that I want to dwell on and carry with me. I do believe that time can be a great healer. So, I hope that that will be the case.” Juniper recalled Emmie telling them that she was seeing one of the therapists on the island, but it wasn’t for them to discuss with anyone else, and certainly not on their confessional.

“That’s very forgiving of you. Two more questions for you. What have been your highs and lows of being on the island, and what advice would you pass on to ship-mates of future seasons?”

After lightly humming and gazing thoughtfully just beyond the producer and the camera, Juniper said, “I thin my lows were all pretty well documented by the cameras and mics. But I also think the highs were too. Of course the highest of highs had been falling in love with Chris, and the pregnancy. And I’m so happy about all of the people I’ve met and the friendships I’ve made here.” They then looked to the producer, “As for the advice? I would say stay and trust the process. And as cheesy as it might sound, follow your heart. This really is a unique experience and even when you might feel like giving up, if deep down you really want to stay and see things through, then listen to that part of yourself.”

The producer smiled lightly and signaled for the camera operator to cut before saying, “Thanks, Juni. That was great material.”

Juni wanted to open her mouth and tell them that her answers were honest, but she knew that the producers had an agenda and their own language. So she swallowed and nodded with a polite smile, and then slid off of the stool carefully to disconnect from the mic pack, heading out of the bungalow.

#swtask #swconfess

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just-some-random-blogger · 3 years

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Bootylicious

Stray Kids Bang Chan x Idol!Reader Summary: You're known as the gym rat in your group, and quite frankly, you only have two moods: shredding or chilling. This was why when you're not asleep in between schedules, you're spotted with a male idol you happened to meet in the gym you were at that day. It's a known fact though, that you and Bang Chan are gym buddies and each other's spotter. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Internet toxicity, sasaengs, vulgar language, sexism, misogyny, pining, fluff, mentions of Pentagon because why not <3, etc.

A/N: Girl, i shouldn't do this but I did. It's so funny to me someone requested this cause I have recently become an exercise junkie lol. Also, if you can't tell, there is a pov shift after the cut so yeah. I also wanted to keep the reader gender neutral but I want to write about how psychotically different people treat male and female idols because that stuff aint it. It's most definitely not what anon was expecting me to write but I hope they enjoy it nonetheless.

There's compilation in YT with growing parts centered around you flexing your physical fitness and prowess. It ranges from you affectionally touring your fans, which really meant the cameraman, through the gym, introducing your trainer, and doing your routine on camera, to your group (and others) both fawning and bragging about how strong and how hot you are.

CLIP #1: A scene from an interview of your group in Japan, struggling to talk about how you can do 40 straight push ups.

There was a male interviewer in a suit you could all faintly recognize was talking about your recent Instagram post of a gym mirror selfie.

One of your youngest members smirked and in broken Japanese, cutely said, "Wah, she does 100 push ups! Everyday, every night."

You snap your head to the maknae and raise your brows, "nani?" You begin to shake your hands in protest and begin to explain your truth, "absolutely not 100. Maybe around 40, but nooooo, not 100."

The interviewer and your group comically react in awe. The man in the suit urges, "can you show us?"

You give a face, "Excuse me, but I'm not getting paid to do that in this miniskirt."

Everyone, including the film crew, break into laughter.

CLIP #2: A scene from a variety show where you had to prove you were, in fact, yourself, by doing a shortened version of your exercise routine.

One of the hosts of the show asks, "Wait, do you honestly do all of this in your workout? Like you can do all of it?"

The list of your exercises were written on a colourful cardboard, held by the one who just spoke. It was a range of exercises in 10 sets, from jumping jacks to sit ups, to vague sounding exercises like crab pinches and robot arms.

You purse your lips at the last question asked of you, not really liking the tone in which it was asked. You answer quickly and nod proudly, "I actually do more, cause when I get in the zone and I'm already really sweaty, I feel like I should keep going until my whole body burns." You chuckle.

The older hosts, tilt their head and mutter lowly under their breath something along the lines of, "I'd rather die."

You finally do the routine, quickly, continuously, earning impressed reactions from everyone.

"That's hot," one of the hosts note.

"Ya, for some reason it looks easy to do."

The hosts begin to clamour at that statement, and force whoever said to do the exact thing you did. Clearly, they don't work out as much as you do and cannot even get halfway through it without stopping.

You break out into a breathless laugh in amusement of the comical attempt but then protest, explaining how bad it is to force yourself to do more than you can

CLIP #3: Pentagon, Hongseok especially, fawns over how fit you are

Trailing a conversation about how your group is close with Pentagon because your companies are situated closely to each other and you wind up eating together a lot, there is an anecdote about how there was a jar no one could open, no one but you, that is.

The interviewer asks no one in particular, "wah, none of you could open the jar? Really? Or did you all just pretend so she could open it?"

There is a chorus of answers concluding with, "no really, she was the only one that was able to open it."

The story is backed up by how the jar had a really small lid and some hands were too big. Then came an explanation how you were recently into the new rock climbing machine in your gym.

Hongseok speaks up, "I was invited to go to rock climbing in, like, an actual rock climbing place and I was honestly so surprised when she began to climb. She said she never actually tried rock climbing on a wall, but it seemed like she had been doing it for years."

Shinwon agrees, "Right, right. I was also really curious about what they did that day," he points to Hongseok, "that I joined them one time. I never felt so out of shape in my life. I just stayed back and filmed everything."

Pentagon laughs, and then agrees that you were exceptionally fast and just super fit in all honesty.

The interviewer catches Hongseok's expression then suddenly asks, "do you like a woman like that?"

"Yeah, I like my women strong."

Then came a lot of teasing remarks from Pentagon, and a plethora of complaints from delusional fans who did not want Hongseok to ever breathe in your direction again.

With all that's been said about that, in all the parts of this series floating around in the internet, one thing remained, there was a slightly larger population of impressed fans than the still large portion of antifans who wanted nothing to do with it and only came around to hate.

It's hard not to think about it, but even the slightest back handed compliment can sometimes linger in one's mind.

And right now, as much as I kept my mind on my counting as I finished my set high knees, I couldn't help but think of how much backlash I got from posting a post workout photo with my midriff exposed.

Apparently that was not only enough to merit hate for being both a whore and an attention whore, but people baselessly began to hate on my groupmates simply for being associated with me.

It's kind of sad really, how, say Wonho, can post a fairly exposed photo of himself and get so much praise for it, and yet I couldn't even do anything remotely close to that.

And I don't even mean to come at Wonho, we all know he's a beast at the gym and should be able to show as much of his hard work as he is comfortable in showing, but why can't I?

"Hey trooper. I thought you said you were only doing 80 counts?" a voice cracks me out of my train of thought.

I turn to whom spoke and chuckle at myself as I stop my leg raises, "ah yeah, I got lost in thought, and your really good song."

I pull on my earphones and give a lopside smile, "I love working out to God's Menu."

He gives a soft, "he he, thanks."

"No need for a thank you when I'm only giving my honest opinion, Chan."

"Yeah, well still, it makes my kokoro go doki-doki," he sniggers, crossing his arms and flashing a dimpled smile. I raise my upper lip and reel back, "EWWW!"

I playfully shove him. He acts hurt, "this is violence against children."

"Chan, you're literally older than me."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a child at heart."

"You mean, it doesn't mean you're not a drama queen."

"Hey, I have no interest in having a throne, my only interest is," he leans in and whispers, "you."

I feel my soul leave my body as he snorts to himself and runs away. I regurgitate in surprise, "YA!"

"You better do your next set properly," Chan says heading off to a cable row machine, "I'm always watching."

I try to ignore the blood rushing up your neck, "creep."

He shrugs, "rather that or have you get injured, sweet heart."

Yeah, Chan has saved me from a lot of injuries I could have had. It was a bad habit. It stemmed from the same thing that made me mess up my count a while ago, my overthinking.

Sometimes I thought of rather harmless things, but sometimes I began to fixate on the hate I received for simply being. I do a lot to get my mind to realize that they hated me simply because they could and because it was easy. Exercising helped tremendously, especially when I had someone fun to work out with, especially when I was with Chan. He just... made me feel safe, y'know.

But when the news of us being work out buddies surfaced, a lot of sasaengs came for me. Of course, a lot of Stays and my own fans were really kind about, speaking out that we were our own people and exercising together did not mean anything in particular really.

But some really went for it, and made it a hobby to comment on everything I was in that I was a slut for 'working out' with different men every day."

I let out a breath as I finish my routine. I catch my breath and go for a swig of my water. I take a moment then sit down by the mirror, which was near where Chan was currently working out.

"You're doing it again."

I turn from where I was blankly staring at turn to Chan who gave me a soft look, "you good?"

I release a sigh then purse my lips, "maybe."

He pouts, "what happened?"

I shrug and stand from where I sat, "you know, the usual."

Chan then comes up to me and takes my water bottle from me, "you know, no matter how much people say you don't need water to live, you can never change the fact that you are extremely dependent on water to live."

I look at him and half- heartedly point, "are you calling me thirsty?"

He begrudgingly groans and releases a chuckle. He calls my name out in a scolding tone. I feel myself relax, "I know what you're getting at Chan."

He nods, "good. I'll always be here to remind you of that."

I smile and feel an urge to hug him, "if you weren't so sweaty, I would totally hug you right now."

Chan then gives me a look then does not hesitate to crush me into his arms. I groan and whine in protest. He chuckles, "you literally just said you wanted a hug!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY SO SWEATY. NO ONE WANTS THIS TORTURE."

Chan huffs and gives a wounded look, "hmp. You better spot me while I lift or else I'm unfriending you."

"Hmm... I think I'll be good without you as a friend."

I half expect Chan to whine about it, but he instead smirks, "ahhhh, you must want me to be your boyfriends so badly huh."

I- I mean...

CLIP #4: A crack edit of Chan when he gets asked about his gym relationship with me in Chan's Room.

He was looking through the questions and suddenly chuckles, his ears noticeably began to redden. Cue a zoom in of his face and his red ears. Cue a clip of Cardi B saying, "that's suspicious."

He says my name then continues, "am I close with her? Yeah. I would say I'm close with her-- and her whole group actually."

Captioned: Nice save, Chris.

"The kids and I are close with her group," he says, clearing his throat.

A clip of him clearing his throat is repeated about ten times.

Chan adjust the beanie he was wearing as he thinks of what he was going to say next, "we actually do work out together a lot because she's under a trainer that works with my trainer."

Captioned: Sure, Chan. That's the only reason, right?

Chan catches another question, "Is she a beast in the gym like Hongseok says?" He breaks into a laugh. He then rubs his cheek and grits his teeth.

A clip of someone saying, "Oh he's jealous," flashes on screen.

"Yeah," Chan finally says, "she's got a really high stamina."

Cue the clip, WHAT DID HE SAY?

Chan continues, "she can go between exercises without stopping. she doesn't even take that much time to catch her breath. In fact, she sings while exercising sometimes, which helps make her vocals stable."

Captioned: Queen Tingz.

The next thing that happens is Chan breaks into a laugh and begins to chuckle. He says, "Sorry I saw a funny comment."

Captioned: WHAT HE MEANS IS HE SAW A COMMENT SAYING 'SHUT UP CHRIS, YOU'RE WHIPPED."

Then came these comments:

LITERALLY LOOK AT HOW FLUFFY BANG CHAN GETS WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT HER DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME MY SHIP IS ALIVE

They are dating period. prove me wrong. you cant

Chan literally blushes over anything, buT HE TURNED INTO A TOMATO WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT HER BYE

if you hate on your faves loving each other, you most definitely need Jesus (:

PLEASE CAN YOU SEE HOW WHIPPED THEY ARE FOR EACH OTHER

Yeah... it's not been confirmed to this day.

432 notes · View notes

therenlover · 3 years

Text

The Boy With The Easel (A Young Artist!Helmut Zemo x Reader Oneshot)

(Hey! If you end up enjoying this fic, it’s the first chronological part of a new fun expanded AU I’ve created with @creme-bruhlee! Their fic Bliss is part of the same timeline and takes place about a year after this one, so you should check it out!!!)

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Tags: Meet Cute, College AU, First Meetings, Coffee Date, Artist!Zemo, Embarrassment, Awkward College Kids Falling In Love

Rating: T

Warnings: Very Vague Mention of Sexual Content, Swearing, Zemo Says The Word Daddy In Reference To His Father and The Reader Thinks It’s Kinda Hot

Word Count: 7000~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3!

------

The University of Novi Grad

Fall 1996

Mornings in Novi Grad could be beautiful if you knew what to look for.

Sokovia was… different from America in many ways. From the language to the scenery, you often found yourself adrift in the strangeness of it all. There had been nothing quite as old as the buildings in the historical district of Novi Grad back home, no towering grey behemoths serving as a reminder of a bygone fight against Soviet invasion in the memories of your childhood. Still, though, there was beauty in the strangeness nonetheless.

From your tiny room in the Helena Lyudmila International Scholar’s dorm, for instance, you had a perfect view of a large campus courtyard hosting a statue of the donor by the same name. She was some royal who had invested in education a few hundred years ago, and by the looks of her metal likeness, she had been quite pretty. The sight of her shining in the early morning sun was one of the things that made uprooting your whole life seem worth it in the end, no matter how silly that seemed.

There were other small comforts that you had found beauty in during your first month attending your prestigious university, too.

You found beauty in the way the sunlight streamed over the rooftops like the opening to an Oscar-winning film. In the sound of traffic below and the overcast skies above. Sandwiches from corner stores, wildflowers growing in the median of the road, cups of the worlds best black coffee served steaming by scowling attendants at the cafe; Everywhere there was something small and kind and just familiar enough to relish in, more than able to distract you from the stress of living hand-to-mouth in a country where you didn’t even know the language. It made it all worth it.

That being said there was something else too…

Someone else to be specific.

The campus tended to run like clockwork. The same groups of students would walk past your window to their classes, the same professors would get their coffee and lunch at the little cafe across the square, and every weekday morning at 8 am on the dot, easel boy would set up his palette and canvas and paint the same bustling street.

He was talented, that you couldn’t deny. Even from the 6th floor, which was a considerable distance away, it was possible to admire the detailing and consistency with which he painted. His talent wasn’t when kept you captive at your window in the morning, though. Though you were sure his art was beautiful, he himself was a thousand times more stunning.

All dark eyes and dark hair and dark clothes, he parted crowds with his piercing gaze alone. He was always dressed like the protagonist of some awful artsy film. Massive argyle sweaters, untucked button-ups, corduroy jackets, and flare bottomed pants that must have survived his father’s wardrobe from the ’70s… his style was as close you could get to atrocious while still being impeccable as possible, and that wasn’t even getting started on the smudged black liner always present under his persistent gaze. You had never had the pleasure (or embarrassment for that matter) of meeting him in person, but you were sure that you would have had the same awed and slightly frightened reaction if you ever did. He could have been plucked entirely from the pages of some awful romance novel.

You were well and truly smitten with the idea of him.

If you looked at your morning routine through the eyes of a stranger, you’d consider yourself odd for your strange obsession with him, but you didn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t an obsession. You never overstepped your bounds. He was simply pleasing to look at and so you did. That didn’t constitute as obsessive, right?

Even if it did, you weren’t causing any harm.

Easel boy, as you had come to refer to him, was simply a tool you used to ground yourself in your new and frightening environment. Nothing more. If you ever met him, you would surely hate him from the short interactions you’d seen him have with strangers. They never ended well. He would remain an unattainable, attractive ideal in your mind until he eventually faded away into a funny memory you’d share with your kids one day.

Until then, though, you would watch him from your window before your morning classes and refused to feel guilty about it. So, that was that, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

On the morning in question, you had woken up a little late and in a foul mood. In preparation for a test in your foundations of algebra course you had spent the better part of the night pouring over formulas while your upstairs neighbor’s bed slammed repeatedly into the wall and floor. Though you were sure they were having an excellent time, you were most definitely not. It all culminated in you missing your original alarms and despite the fact that your first class started at 10, you were exhausted, furious, and not looking forward to missing breakfast to finish the assigned reading you had put off the night before. The only thing keeping you from throwing in the towel and just giving up was the promise of seeing the painter.

So, when he arrived for the day at 8 am sharp, you were positioned at the ledge by your window, textbook in hand with a mug of instant coffee at your right. It was like a breath of fresh air.

As usual, he retrieved a small pack of cigarettes from the back of his eternally paint-stained jeans only to bring one to his lips and light it quickly. He always smoked before he worked, and just like always, he took an extra cigarette from the pack to tuck behind his ear for later. Then, he got to work setting up his easel and the small stool where he set his palette.

Pulling tubes of acrylic, brushes, and pencils from his well-worn messenger bag, easel boy flipped out the kickstand without any problem and set his thick, pre-primed canvas on the worn metal. You watched in fascination. Art had always seemed so unattainable to you. Instead, you were drawn to the more academic. The man before you, though, created beauty with an ease that had evaded you all your life, and it had you both jealous and entirely intrigued. Slowly, you reached down to take a sip of your coffee as you let your eyes drift back to your reading.

Learning about ancient Babylon was far less interesting than watching him, though.

When you next looked out the window and away from your work the handsome artist had created his base sketch already. How did he do it so fast? You assumed it was practice. He had been drawing the same 3 buildings every weekday morning for at least a month, so after a while, it must have been second nature to measure out the lines and put things into perspective. You smiled. He tended to have that effect on you.

The process was repeated until a little before 9:30. You would read a few paragraphs then look up to watch the painting progress from a sketch to a full-fledged work of art. It was good today from what you could see. The colors were a bit more muted than usual, but that was only on account of the awful, dreary overcast sky that threatened to dump rain on the city at any time. Overall, you would have considered it a masterpiece. Easel boy didn’t seem to think the same.

He regarded the painting with a sort of begrudging satisfaction that bordered on disappointment before he pulled the second cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and began the process of packing up his materials. You finished the last of your coffee watching him do so. Smoking, well, smoking tobacco at least, had always been a vice you had avoided and yet you often wondered what it would feel like to take a drag of one of his cigarettes after it had been between his lips. Then, the magic lifted.

He folded up the flimsy easel, tucked it away with his materials back into his messenger bag, hoisted the stool under one arm and the painting under the other before taking off at a brisk clip down the street away from your window. You watched him until he was out of sight.

You were snapped from your concentration by a knock at your door.

“Y/N,” a heavily accented voice called, sending you scrambling for your bag, “If you are not outside in the next 15 seconds I will break down your door,”

Shit.

“Coming, Sasha!” You wailed. It took about 10 of those seconds to grab your backpack and shove your textbook inside, an extra 2 to check your appearance in the mirror- you looked slightly disheveled, but it was the best you were gonna do after the night you’d had. Besides, it wasn’t like you were doing anything important. You didn’t need to be dressed for a date -and you were opening the door for a quick save at the 14th second. Your door was safe for another day.

Out in the hall waited Sasha Balandin, arms crossed and grey eyes piercing in the flickering light of the terrible overhead fluorescents. As a fellow international student, you had become fast friends with Sasha. He was a little rough around the edges, and definitely didn’t take your bullshit, but he was a rare friend. “I have been waiting for 10 minutes,” he griped. You tried your best to look apologetic. “Don’t do that,”

“Do what?” You asked, closing and locking your door behind you as you began walking down the hallway.

Sasha huffed. “Do not pretend you were not too busy ogling that painter in the courtyard to hear me knocking on your door,” His Russian bluntness was on full display now as you shook your head in mock disbelief.

“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that!”

“It is not an accusation if it is true,”

“There’s no way you know for a fact that I was watching him again,”

“But you were. This happens every week,”

You sighed, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I was,”

Taking the stairs in twos, Sasha sighed. “You are too soft, Y/N. Besides, you have said so often that he seems like an asshole. Why do you continue to get all mushy at him out the window if this is the case?”

“Because… well, because…” for a moment, you floundered in search of an answer that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete freak, but you found that there really wasn’t one. It came down the one small factor. “He’s just really hot, okay?”

The look Sasha gave you could have killed. He kept his mouth shut, though, choosing to let his silence shame you more than anything else did. It worked. For the entire trip down the stairs and the mile-long walk to your lecture hall, you felt the weight of shame heavy on your shoulders. Or maybe it was just your backpack. You didn’t know which you’d prefer. He did start speaking again eventually, going on about some party you had missed in favor of studying, but the feeling never left. Even as you sat down for your lecture it was still at the forefront of your mind. In fact, you were so busy thinking about your crush on easel boy and the problems with it that you barely paid attention to the professor’s rehashing of the Epic of Gilgamesh.

Your error only hit when the professor flipped the PowerPoint to the final slide.

“Before you go, I want to remind you that you have a paper on the importance of Enkidu in the Epic is due at the beginning of class this Friday. The details and requirements should be listed in your syllabus. Class dismissed,”

Fuck.

Friday was only two days away.

You were so screwed.

The problem was, you didn’t have a spare copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh just lying around your dorm room. Usually that wouldn’t have been an issue, the professor for your current history course used English for her slide because her particular history course was specifically for first-year international students. Unfortunately for you, though, you hadn’t been taking notes. Instead, you had been daydreaming about how it would feel to have easel boy blow his cigarette smoke in your face and then subsequently scolding yourself for having thoughts like that about a total stranger. In a terrible twist of fate, the professor only held office hours after her last classes on Mondays and Fridays, so even getting the information from her then was off the table. Dread began to pool in your stomach.

Any other student would have been able to cut their losses, rent a copy from the library, slog through it in a night, and write the damn essay even without the help of the classroom slides for context. The only problem was all the books in the library were in Sokovian, and you still barely knew how to order a coffee correctly. Reading the language in a full Cyrillic alphabet would just be impossible, especially for a book as stupidly old as the Epic of Gilgamesh.

In short, unless you could get your hands on a copy in the next day or so, you were absolutely, well-and-truly fucked.

Sasha was quick to find you as the hall cleared out, waiting near your seat as you packed away your notes. “That was all bullshit, no?” He asked, but the second he took in your slightly panicked expression he stopped short, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing deeply. You knew what he was going to say before he ever said it.

“Something is wrong. You were not paying attention. Were you thinking-”

“Yes. Okay? Yes, I was thinking about him,”

He shook his head slightly. “I am concerned for you,”

“Who isn’t?”

Despite his usually stoic demeanor, that made Sasha huff out a soft laugh. “You got yourself into this mess, Y/N, you will get yourself out somehow,”

Your jaw dropped as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started making your way towards the door. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“Though I would love to be helpful, you forget that my English is poor. It will do me better to read the book in Sokovian myself than to use the information from class,”

Oh, yeah. You winced. “Sorry, Sash’”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he shrugged as you walked out onto the lawn, chilled to the bone by the wind that whipped in every direction.

A storm was brewing. It might not fully take hold of the city for a few hours yet, but it would make the walk to your evening class absolute hell if the rain fell as hard as it had several weeks prior. You could only hope that it wouldn’t start until after you had walked home. Your odds were looking slim, though, based on the way you could already hear thunder clapping in the distance. After a moment you hit the edge of the sidewalk where your paths would diverge.

“Good luck with the paper,” you offered weakly.

Sasha replied with a sharp, “Good luck with your crush,” and then he was off in the opposite direction without another word. Sasha was blunt like that, never overstaying his welcome or lingering when he didn’t need to. There was something enviable about it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to simply say things as they were without an unnecessary sugar coating to save face and spare feelings. It lingered on your mind for the whole half-mile walk to the campus bookstore. Speaking of which...

There was only one place where you might possibly find an English copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh. It wasn’t the big student bookstore, most of the textbooks there had been in Sokovian, Russian, or German and you hadn’t even tried to set foot in their actual book section. No, your only hope was the tiny hole-in-the-wall bookstore you had stumbled upon during move-in. It was only about half a mile away from your dorm from any of your lecture halls, so you often found yourself wandering inside when you had time to kill. They were one of the only stores you’d come across that sold anything in English, magazines included, so despite the fact that the young cashiers rarely spoke your language you often found that the back shelves of that tiny shop kept you from going mad.

Now, they might also be keeping you from ruining your GPA.

You could only hope. If anybody could save you, it was them.

Ducking in through the small doorway, you were greeted by the soft ring of the bell above your head. The attendant at the register simply regarded you with a polite nod. You had seen her there before and she knew you barely spoke a lick of Sokovian, so she didn’t attempt a pleasantry. Instead, she simply let you wander through the entrance and into the towering bookshelves, passing a few other faceless shoppers on your way towards the back. You were grateful for her nonchalance.

If there was anything worse than feeling foolish for not knowing Sokovian, it was being talked down to in perfect English by a Sokovian citizen. Most interactions left you wishing you’d actually taken anything away from your high school French class other than emotional trauma from your teacher and a caffeine addiction. Damn America and its terrible public-school language programs…

The path to the English classics section was one you’d walked many times since discovering the book store. It was right in the very back corner of the shop, tucked away where the city natives wouldn’t have to address or see it. You had snagged a copy of Pride and Prejudice a few weeks back, so you knew exactly where to search. The only problem was slogging through every single book on the shelf in search of the one you were looking for.

Your eyes scanned the wall.

Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh…

Gilgamesh!

On the 6th shelf up sat one small copy. Score! You were saved! As you reached up to grab it, though, you were met with yet another roadblock. The shelf it was on was juuuust a little too high for you to reach. Oh, come on…

You hopped a little, extending your hand up as far as it could go, but your fingers just barely brushed the spine. Somewhere behind you, you could hear footsteps. Then someone coughed to suppress laughter. The shame was plain on your face. As your flannel rode up and you stretched up in one last desperate attempt to grab the book when suddenly someone, you assumed the same person who had been laughing at your misfortune, spoke.

“They have stools, you know,” he said, accented voice thick with amusement. The English surprised you, but you assumed they used it for your benefit. You were in front of the English language books after all. Besides, the shame of it all kept your mind from questioning it too much. “For reaching the top shelf,”

Of course they had stools.

If your face hadn’t already been burning with embarrassment it definitely was now.

In a split-second decision, you decided playing dumb was the only way you could walk out of the situation with any dignity left at all, so you plastered on a confused smile and spun around to greet the stranger. “Really? I had no cl-”

You stopped short.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’d know those paint-stained jeans anywhere.

There, with his hands in his pockets and the most self-important, thin-lipped smirk you had ever seen, was easel boy in all of his cocky, intimidating, hot glory. Had you really noticed how hot he truly was before? It didn’t feel like it. Not now that you’d really seen him close up and reveled in the way his dark eyes hypnotized you with their smudged liner that felt borderline obscene. You could smell him too, all charcoal and turpentine and cigarette smoke. If you had it bad before when he was just a blurry ideal out your window, you were completely and utterly smitten now.

He regarded you with a sort of practiced annoyance, and yet there was a strange softness to it that you hadn’t found in many native Sokovians, especially ones that saw you as the stupid, bumbling American wandering blindly around their country.

“Would you like my help?”

“Huh?” You were so lost in his eyes that you couldn’t even focus on his question.

“To reach your book. Would you like my help?”

“Oh!” With a brisk nod, you stepped away from the shelf to make room for easel boy, “yeah, I’m just trying to grab that one there. The, uh, Epic of Gilgamesh,”

In one swift movement, he was stepping right beside you to easily reach up and grab the offending piece of literature. The closeness of it all nearly sent you into a tailspin. That wasn’t even mentioning the way your heart thudded just a little faster when he finally handed the book to you, his calloused fingers brushing against your own. You barely find a grip on your brain strong enough to thank him through the fog of embarrassment and attraction. Eventually, though, you managed to choke out a placation as your eyes explored the cover of the book.

“Thanks for that,”

“It was no problem,” he shrugged. He didn’t move though, still standing just inches away from you. When you looked up from the book you found his eyes were still on you, watching intently as if he expected something from you. The answer to what he actually expected was a mystery but you could tell he wanted something. When you didn’t speak, he spoke for you. “So, The Epic of Gilgamesh? That’s definitely a bold choice,”

You looked up at him sheepishly through heavily lidded eyes. “It’s not a choice at all, actually. I’m only buying it so I can write an essay,”

“Ah,�� Something about his tone was almost disappointed as the conversation stalled.

You quickly changed the subject to the first thing you could think of.

“Your hair is really nice!”

“My hair?”

“Yeah… your hair,”

Smooth move, dumbass.

Easel boy’s expression seemed to soften once more as his signature grin crept back onto his face. “Thank you, I grew it myself,” Between his accent and the way he was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive, you weren’t exactly sure how you hadn’t had a heart attack yet. Still, the attention was nice, even if it was bourne out of you repeatedly embarrassing yourself in a never-ending cycle of fuckups. He ran a hand through his loose brown hair. “I like your shirt. Very American,”

Silently, you cursed yourself for not taking a few extra seconds to pick out a better outfit when you woke up. Standing next to him, even while he was dressed in his paint-stained jeans and undone button-up, you looked like a wreck in comparison. He didn’t seem to be speaking from a place of judgment, though.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was being nice, but that couldn’t be the case… could it?

“Maybe it’s just that I haven’t met very many Sokovians that are fond of America, but I’m not sure if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult,” You joked. It was a bit sarcastic, the lilt of your voice masking your deep insecurity, and to your surprise easel boy laughed. He really laughed. From your place beside him, you could almost feel the warmth radiating off of him as he shook his head.

“It was definitely a compliment,”

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat.

That was a new revelation.

You steeled yourself with a deep breath. Fuck it. It was now or never.

“I, uh… I’m Y/N, and you are?”

He regarded you once again with that strange expression of expectation. “What?”

“I asked for your name,” you repeated, and yet he still stood, slightly dumbfounded, staring down at you with that same expectant expression from earlier. For a moment, you almost thought he expected you to know it already. That fact was quickly glossed over when he moved to rub the back of his neck with his hand, eyes drifting down to the floor.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I’m not very good with people. My father thought college might help me finally connect with my peers, but I don’t think he expected that I was the problem, nor do I think he expected me to pick a degree in the arts,” Suddenly, he paused and stuck out his hand to you. “I’m Hel. It’s very nice to meet you Y/N,”

With only a moment of hesitation- because wow, your name had never sounded more right on someone’s lips -you took his large calloused hand in your own and shook it gently. His palm was warm, his fingers lingering on your own for just a moment even as he pulled away. It wasn’t much, just a soft brush against your flesh, but it sent a flash of heat and liquid confidence through your chest.

“Is that short for something?” Your eyes met his in the soft yellow glow of the overhead lamps. Seeing him like this, so up close and personal, he looked a lot more human than he had from your window. Sure, he was imposing. Underneath the initial harsh facade, though, was something softer and almost poetic. You weren’t an artist by any means but if you had been, you had no doubt that he’d be your muse.

“It’s short for Helmut, but only my father calls me that, and only when he’s cross, which, unfortunately, is most of the time,” he chuckled, “Besides, it’s an old man’s name. It doesn’t suit me,”

The words left your mouth before you knew what you were saying.

“Well, it’s better than calling you easel boy,”

Shit.

Today really just wasn’t your day, huh?

In the split second where you were mourning your chances with the most stupidly handsome guy who had ever shown any interest in you, you almost missed the way Helmut’s eyes lit up at the admission.

“Easel boy?” His voice was teasing, but not demeaning. That didn’t do much to ease your mortification, though.

“Is there any chance that I can get you to forget I said anything?”

“If you already have a nickname for me when we’ve barely met, I think you already know the answer to that question,”

His knowing smirk was enough to get you pleading. “You can’t just let me off the hook this once?” you begged, scrubbing a hand across your forehead in a desperate attempt to get away from his piercing gaze. The things those brown eyes did to you could be classified as obscene… “I will genuinely do anything if you don’t make me explain myself right now Hel,”

Hel quirked up an eyebrow. “Anything?” The way your stomach turned at just one word from him was both terrifying and extremely exciting. It felt like a promise. Without hesitation, you nodded. That made him smile. “In that case, get coffee with me today?”

Once again, you were rendered speechless.

“My treat,” he added, “unless you’re not interested…”

“No!” Your answer left your lips embarrassingly fast, “Or- yes? No, no, I think I meant no. No; I am very interested. Yes; I would like to get coffee with you,” There was a hint of shame in your words, but only a hint. After the day you’d had already, there wasn’t very much there to be ashamed of. Still, that same pit of dread began to open up in your stomach as you mulled over your choices.

Thankfully, Helmut continued to take it all in stride. “Wonderful! Is there anything else you’d like to do here before we go? It’s best we leave soon if we want to beat the rain,” He offered up his arm as he spoke like some sort of Disney prince. It was, by far, the cutest gesture you had ever been lucky enough to receive.

You linked your arm with his without hesitation. “As soon as I pay we can get going,” He was warm. It radiated off him in waves just like the warm hints of tobacco and wintermint that seemed to seep from his skin and clothes. With that, you made your way to the front desk as Hel shot you a sly smile.

“Who said anything about letting you pay?”

True to his word, he didn’t let you pay for a single thing for the rest of the afternoon.

The two of you made your way up to the cashier together, and Helmut only separated from your side to grab his wallet before you could grab yours. He then spoke in rapid-fire Sokovian to the lady at the register and pulled what could only be described as a wad of Sokovian koronas while you set the book on the counter, and from the looks of it, she seemed more than pleased with the two of you. Who wouldn’t be, especially when Hel seemed to insist that she keep the excess? In the end, after the book had been wrapped nicely in a paper bag and deposited in your backpack, Helmut held the door open for you like some sort of gentleman and followed you out into the grey afternoon.

Then, you were off down the street on Hel’s arm, pushing through the wind and the biting chill that had settled in the air.

“So, you don’t sound like a big fan of your dad,” you asked, half laughing as you attempted to broach conversation once again.

Helmut groaned beside you. “My father is a menace who is unable to understand that some people want more in life than to sit behind a desk all day making phone calls. In fact, most of my family is the same way. The only reason I haven’t completely cut them off and changed my name is the money,”

“I assume you get a lot of it if it’s worth sticking around someone you hate so much,”

“Never ask a man about his net worth,” he chuckled, gently elbowing you in the ribs, “but yes, I’m very comfortable. I have my own apartment just far enough away to be considered off-campus with my own car and as much money as it takes to keep me happy and getting good grades; Daddy makes sure of that,” The word daddy was a deep sneer, barely there in the wind, but something about it sent butterflies through your stomach. Well, that was never something you thought you were into… “Little does he know, I’m not here to make money. I’m here to find inspiration worth my time while out from under his thumb,”

You snorted softly. “Artistic and rich? You’re just ticking all the boxes, Hel,”

“Good for me. Would offering help on that essay of yours endear you to me further?”

“Absolutely,”

The next 5 minutes you spend discussing the Epic of Gilgamesh. Surprisingly, in one of the first stokes of good luck you’d had all day, Helmut seemed to be one of the only people on earth who knew plenty about Enkidu off the top of his head. When he was the one lecturing you in his smooth, heavily accented timbre it was so much easier to pay attention to something so very tedious than when you heard it from your aging and often monotone professor. In fact, you were so enthralled by his retelling of the tale that you barely noticed you’d made it all the way to the cafe that sat across from the international dorm.

If you didn’t consider Hel to be smart as a whip and twice as clever as he was smart, you would have thought it was a coincidence. It couldn’t be though. No, there was no way anything was a coincidence with Helmut around. You shot him a smile when he opened the door for you and ushered you inside.

“You know Hel,” you muttered, “I’m starting to think you might know more about me than you initially let on,”

He shrugged. “You’re American, so it’s unlikely you live anywhere else and I wanted to make the walk home easy. It’s supposed to rain, you know? Besides, despite the… interesting waitstaff, they make the best pastries in town right here in this cafe,”

“Did you mean it when you said you were paying?”

“Absolutely,”

“Then I can’t wait to try one,”

The two of you were seated quickly (you assumed it had to do with the waitress finding Hel as hot as you did, because you caught her looking at him from behind the counter and whispering excitedly in Sokovian to her coworker at least twice over the course of the meal) and the conversation flowed easily as you waited on your coffees and the deserts Helmut insisted on splitting to let you try. Millefeuille, pear tart tatin, chocolate devil’s food cake, and a towering plate of apricot kołaczki awaited you, and they kept you sitting and talking and snacking for over an hour as you really got to know each other. The more you learned, the more you fell in love with the man across from you.

Over the course of the afternoon, you learned that Helmut was majoring in studio art while minoring in psychology just because it interested him, he hated the Beatles almost as much as he hated Freud’s theories on women, his favorite color was purple, and he spent most of his free time reading or getting high off his ass in his massive studio apartment in what you now knew was one of the most expensive areas in the city. He, in return, sat at rapt attention across the table as you gushed about your life in America, your reasons for going to university in Sokovia, your favorite books, and the ridiculousness that was trying to pass college-level classes in a country that seemed to avoid English at all costs.

Eventually, though, you did touch upon his nickname.

“I just thought it was really interesting that you did the same thing every single day, no matter what,” you explained, grabbing one of the last kołaczki from the plate and ignoring the powdered sugar that stuck to your fingers, “and by watching you… I don’t know, I guess it kind of felt like I had another friend who’d share breakfast with me in the morning if that makes sense,”

Hel nodded, swallowing his last bite of chocolate cake. “I understand completely. It can be lonely, coming to a new place without any friends or connections, but you were brave enough to take the leap. I admire that,” He brought his napkin to his lips before crumpling it and setting it one of the now empty plates before him, “But I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed that you didn’t watch me because I’m attractive,”

You nearly choked on your pastry. “Well, I wouldn’t say your pretty face didn’t help…”

The grin that spread across his face was heartstopping. He grabbed a napkin from the little holder next to the two of you and grabbed a pen from one of his pockets as he spoke. “In that case, you should join me tomorrow morning. Bring coffee if you can, I never have enough hands to bring a cup for myself, but even if you can’t bring some, if you want to come and watch me work I’d be more than happy to have a companion for the morning,” he paused for a moment, flustered, “or every morning, for that matter,”

“That sounds like a deal,” Your cheeks were hot, but not from embarrassment this time. No, it was anything but, because here you were across the table from a kind, attractive, intelligent Sokovian boy with money to spend and time to spare for you. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud too. He wanted you back, after all. You could see it in the way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than he should, and even more plainly in the way he wrote his phone number in bold blue ink on the napkin and signed it with a doodle of a heart before passing it across the table to you.

“I’m going to go pay,” he said quietly while standing, “but I’ll be back in a second to walk you out. Alright?”

“Alright,”

There was something strangely similar to sorrow sitting in your chest when you watched him walk away. The sight of his ass as he went made up for it, though. Once he was obstructed by other patrons, you turned your attention to the napkin in your hands. Hel’s handwriting was neat as far as artists’ handwriting goes, but it still held a sort of looseness in its curves, a freedom in the way the numbers had flowed effortlessly from his pen. You popped the last kołaczki in your mouth as you admired the blue ink before devouring the final bites of pear tart and millefeuille. How had you gotten so lucky to have someone like him giving you his number and buying you pastries? You pondered the bizarre nature of it all until Helmut returned.

You stood quickly, folding the napkin and putting it away in your pocket. “Ready to go?”

“If you are,” he replied. In an instant, you were standing beside him again as he opened the door for you. The wind was even stronger now, strong enough that his loose hair whipped wildly around his forehead from the force of it. You couldn’t help but giggle at his appearance.

He caught you off guard as he walked you across the street. “You have such a pretty laugh,”

It was like you were seeing him again for the first time. You fiddled with the strap of your backpack as you got closer and closer to the door to your dorm. “Thanks. I’m pretty fond of your laugh too,”

Then, you were there, just two college kids standing awkwardly before your first departure.

“So,” you said before you could stop yourself, “when I tell my one friend all about this afternoon after my math class tonight, should I say it was a date?”

Hel’s cheeks flushed pink. “You can call it that, if that’s what you would like it to have been,”

“I think I would,”

“Good, good,” he let out a little chuckle, “I’m glad. Would you… would you consider going on another? I promise I have much more to offer than just small talk and tips on where to buy the best pastries,”

Looking into his brown eyes, so full of uncertainty and hope, you knew you couldn’t have denied him even if you wanted to. Still, you weren’t going to give in to his advances without a little bit of taunting. It made it fun, a game to be played where, hopefully, you both would win big in the end.

“That depends,” you teased, letting your lower lip catch between your teeth, “what do you have in mind?”

Helmut shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels, pensive. “If you want to, we could go to my place and I could actually show you all of the paintings I’ve been working on while you watched me. The view from the rooftop is lovely too. We could have dinner up there while looking out over Novi Grad. I have to warn you, though, it’ll probably be takeout. I’m an atrocious chef,”

Slowly, a brilliant smile spread across your face. “Does Friday work?”

The smile Helmut shot back was as bright as every star in the night sky and even more enthralling. “Friday is perfect. Can I pick you up at 7?”

“As long as you come in that fancy car you were talking about,”

“Then it’s a deal,”

“Well,” you turned away, walking up the steps towards the door before turning back to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Hel, and I’ll bring coffee. Have a good night,”

“You too, Y/N. Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that,”

With that, he gave one last short wave before turning on his heel and pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. You watched him walk away until he turned the corner and disappeared from view. Only then did you enter the punch code and race up the stairs to your room.

Your back was pressed to the door of your dorm room the second you had shut it, your hands clutching at your chest in a desperate attempt to keep your heart from beating right out of your ribs. The second you were in the privacy of your own place, your cool facade had melted away to reveal just how much of a wreck you really were.

He had invited you over to his apartment.

He liked you.

Easel boy really, honestly liked you.

No, not easel boy. Helmut. Hel.

Hel liked you, and he invited you over to his apartment, and you had plans to meet him with coffee as he painted the next morning.

You smiled softly under the fluorescent lights and pulled the book that had brought you together from your backpack. It seemed so unassuming now, just a fresh paperback with an unbroken spine, but in reality, it was so much more than that.

Hel.

It was such a nice name. You liked it a lot.

Now you couldn’t wait to see what else you liked about him too.

------

a/n: I have been so excited to start sharing this AU with you guys, and it’s finally here!!! If you liked this fic, I once again will direct you to Bliss by @creme-bruhlee because that’s technically next in chronological order for this AU. I hope you enjoyed!!!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 , @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @avgravy , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade, @alanathedeer , @your-pixels-are-showing , @shit-post-things , @bbarton , @sux-ubus , @halefirewarrior , @janelongxox , @rax-writes , @mossybank , @simsiddy , @xxspqcebunsxx , @be-cautious-around-bri , @metaphorical-love-for-a-car , @frothonthedaydreams

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #fanfiction

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spencersstrawberryjello · 3 years

Text

Treat People With Kindness (The BAU)

Summary: Garcia gets Reid into Harry Styles and everyone subsequently loses their minds over it.

Content: Honestly just funny I’m not sure what to call it

MC’s name/pronouns: No alternate main character, just Spencer.

Word Count: 1706

A/N: This whole fic was inspired by the fact that a fan gave Matthew Gray Gubler a Treat People With Kindness pin, which then sparked my friend Emily and I to theorize that Spencer Reid would absolutely be a Harry Styles stan. So yeah, this is literally just the product of one fan interaction lmao

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“I got a good feelin’.”

“... What’s he doing?” Emily leaned over and whispered to JJ, who just shook her head.

“I’m just takin’ it all in.”

“Ok, what happened to Reid?” Morgan joined them, and they both shrugged, watching Spencer walk through the doors of the office.

“Floatin’ up and dreamin’.”

“You know, maybe I need to add him to my drug test list too.” Hotch had stepped out of his office, trying to hide his grin as they saw Spencer making his way to his desk, headphones in and practically dancing over to his seat, mouthing every word of the song he was listening to. He plopped down in it with a little spin, opening a file on his desk without ever taking his headphones out.

“Try ‘Dancing with the Stars,’” Emily laughed, and JJ broke away from their group, heading over to his desk.

“Hey Spence,” She rested her arms on the divide between his desk and Emily’s, tapping on it to get his attention.

“Maybe we can find a place to feel good.”

“Spence!” She tapped his arm this time, and he practically jumped out of his skin, turning to face her.

“And we can treat -”

He quickly tore the headphones out of his ears, setting them down on his desk and looking up at her, clearing his throat.

“Sorry. I was listening to something.” He gestured to the headphones still connected to his phone, as if that wasn’t already obvious.

“Yeah, I noticed,” JJ laughed.

“Do we have a case?”

“Nothing yet, you’re good.” She tried fruitlessly to hide her grin, and he gave her a strange look.

“Ok…”

“So,” She plopped down in Emily’s chair, rolling it over to sit near him, “What were you listening to?”

“Oh!” His face lit up, and he grabbed his phone, holding it out for her to see. She put the headphones in her ears, hearing the final moments of the song he’d been jamming to.

“And we can treat people with kindness, find a place to feel good.”

“Harry Styles?” JJ laughed incredulously, handing him back his phone.

“You’ve heard of him?” He asked, taking the phone and sitting it back on his desk and turning back to her.

“I’m pretty sure most people have heard of him, Spence.”

“Ok, well, I hadn’t. But on Saturday I was speaking at the University of Mary Washington with Rossi, and one of the girls gave me this, after the lecture,” He grabbed his bag off the back of the chair, pointing to a round pin clipped on the strap. It was enamel, with light pink on the inside and a red rose in the center, encircled by the phrase “Treat People With Kindness” in black lettering. “And you know, naturally I thought it was a good message so I put it on my bag and I thought that was all it was. But then I ran into Garcia.”

“Oh god.”

“I was walking in yesterday and she saw it and kind of freaked out a little bit, and pulled me into her office and played me the song - the one you just listened to - and it was amazing and so I told her I thought it was amazing, which made her freak out even more and then you called with a case so I left, only to receive a a YouTube playlist a few hours later that she told me I had to watch every video on or she’d stop printing the case files for me.”

“You know she loves you too much to actually do that, right?”

“I mean, the odds were low, but I wasn’t going to risk it. Either way, I sort of listened to every single song on Fine Line and Self-Titled in one night and also a whole bunch of interviews that she sent me and he’s really funny and his music is great and the moral of the story is I kind of love him.”

JJ sent back in her chair, dumbfounded. “Dude… you mean to tell me Garcia made you a Harry Styles fan?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I - Penelope!” JJ left without another word, making her way into Garcia’s office. Spencer just shrugged, returning to the file he was looking at - and his music - as Garcia spun to face JJ.

“Jennifer, my love, to what do I owe the pleasure? New case?” She asked. JJ just shook her head.

“You broke Reid.”

“I did not break Reid!” She defended with a grin. “I merely helped him reach his true form.”

“He willingly used technology, and he came into the office today practically dancing to Treat People With Kindness. So yes, you did break Reid.”

“JJ, dear,” Garcia got up from her chair, taking JJ’s hands in the doorway, “Do you remember when Reid got that adorable little shaggy haircut?”

“Despite the fact that he changes his hair like every month, yes, I do.”

“And do you remember what Hotch said?”

She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened in shock. “You did all of this… because of the boyband joke?”

“Like I said: true form.” Garcia returned to her chair, spinning around with a laugh. “In my defense, I didn’t know he was going to get a Harry Styles pin. I just took advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself. I already failed at teaching him to worship Lady Gaga, I could not miss another chance to try and pull him out of the dark ages.”

“You are ridiculous, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me!”

JJ laughed, leaving Garcia’s office and heading up to hers, ruffling Spencer’s hair on her way by.

“You should grow your hair out again.”

“You think so?” He reached up and fussed with his hair, just as Garcia emerged into the main room.

“Spencer Reid, my beautiful boy genius, did you do what I asked?”

“Garcia, I figured out how to download music to my phone because of you. So yes, I did what you asked.”

“You are officially my new favorite person.”

“Hang on, what is this all about?” Emily asked. Garcia grinned, hardly able to contain her excitement.

“I’m finally bringing the lovely Dr. Reid here into the 21st Century.”

“Penelope,” Emily raised an eyebrow at her, “What did you do?”

“Garcia thinks she did something revolutionary by getting me into Harry Styles’ music,” Spencer clarified. Emily immediately clapped her hand over her mouth, about to respond before Derek piped up from his desk.

“Oh, she converted you too?”

“‘Too’ - you mean to tell me that you, Derek Morgan, are a Harry Styles fan?” Emily was looking between the three of them now, practically in shock. Derek just laughed, holding up his hands.

“What can I say, the guy’s got an incredible voice.”

“And the make up of his songs is so interesting as well; I mean, when you look at the music he’s produced in the last few years in comparison to what he performed while he was a part of One Direction -”

“Oh my god please tell me you’ve also listened to One Direction,” Emily said, laughing when Spencer nodded.

“I don’t understand why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. He’s a singer, it’s not like he doesn’t have fans,” He defended.

“Reid, two months ago you didn’t even know who Lady Gaga was. This is kind of a big deal.”

“Conference room in five,” JJ walked through the group, heading upstairs as everyone else got up to follow her.

“Do not think I am dropping this,” Emily pointed at Derek and Spencer before jogging to catch up with JJ. Derek laughed, falling in step with Reid.

“So, what all did Garcia make you watch?”

“Oh, just a bunch of interviews. I did some of my own reading though -”

“Of course you did.”

“- and what I found really interesting was One Direction’s actual rise to fame. Because the thing is, they didn’t even win X-Factor. They came in third, and yet they became the most famous group to come from that season of the show. In Forever Young - their book - they talked about their time on X-Factor, but it was so strange to me because their first album - Up All Night, that came out not even a full year after they finished the X-Factor live tour - sold 4.5 million copies within the first year. And they just kept growing… Morgan why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” They’d walked into the conference room by now, sitting down next to each other at the table while Derek tried to stop himself from laughing, looking at Reid in disbelief, “You read their book?”

“And their Wikipedia page - I told you I did my own reading!”

“You said you did some of your own reading, you didn’t say you’d memorized everything about their career!”

“Eidetic memory, remember?” He tapped his forehead, and Derek rolled his eyes.

“You never let me forget. I’m assuming you know everything about their solo careers as well?”

“Well I got into Harry’s stuff first, but I ended up reading all of theirs since I didn’t have anything else to do last night. It’s just so interesting to think about what One Direction’s situation reveals about human nature and celebrity culture. I mean, a lot of their fans are dictionary definition erotomaniacs, and yet -”

“I shouldn’t even be surprised that you read this all in one night.”

“Like I said: didn’t have anything else to do.”

“As much as I’m glad you boys are bonding, we have more important things to worry about than Reid’s newfound love for a British boy band,” JJ interrupted.

“Niall Horan’s actually Irish -”

“Spence. The case.” She pulled up the photos on the screen, and Spencer nodded, opening the case file in front of him as JJ began to review everything they needed to know. She finally closed out, and Hotch grabbed his tablet and rose from the table.

“Alright, wheels up in thirty.”

Everyone nodded, gathering up their things and vacating the room. Spencer and Derek trailed out after everyone, Spencer picking up the conversation as soon as JJ finished.

“You know, I’m considering learning how to knit - there’s this cardigan that Harry wore...”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #bau #bau headcanon #spencer reid headcanon #criminal minds headcanon #bau fanfiction #fanfiction #reid #dr reid #dr spencer reid #writing #harry styles #treat people with kindness #hs #styles

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pastrnaks-sainz · 3 years

Text

A New Experience

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x reader

Type: Smut

Warnings: Smut, swearing, 18+, oral (f receiving), hair pulling kink

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: You were never really one for the hookup scene. But when you had a few drinks in you, your one of your friend’s boyfriend’s teammates started to look really good. You’d known Matty for a couple years at this point, and neither of you had ever expressed any romantic interest in each other. Until now, that is.

Request: First, I love your writing. Second the amount of organization on your masterlist is insane and makes it so much easier to navigate. Could I please do a request for smut number 18, so sexy with all your tattoos with Matthew Tkachuk ? Where like the reader is tattooed obviously cuz he isn’t hahaha . Thank you so much in advance💕 (from anon)

Request: 58 from the smutty prompt list with Matthew Tkachuk please (from anon)

Smut Prompt #18: “So sexy with all your tattoos” Smut Prompt #58: “And in what frat house did you pick up that little trick?”

A/N: I got two Matty smut requests so I’m just going to combine them to make my life a little easier

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“Just try to have a little bit of fun,” your friend said as she staved off her boyfriend who was yanking at her arm. “For me?”

“Fine,” you huffed, taking the glass she was holding and downing the rest of the liquid inside. You made a face and handed it back to her as her boyfriend pulled her off in search of some more liquor.

As more liquid courage entered your system, you grew more confident. When you saw Matty Tkachuk sitting alone in a corner, you waltzed straight up to him without even thinking twice.

“Y/N,” he sighed in relief when he saw you approach him. “Thank god I need someone to talk to.”

“You looked lonely over here,” you commented with a smirk as you took a sip of your drink. Matty swallowed thickly. He’d always found you attractive but now with a little liquid courage in his system he didn’t know what could happen with you sitting so close to him.

“I didn't see you come in,” he said, trying to distract himself from how close your thigh was to his. “Who are you with? Or did Elias invite you?”

“My friend dragged me out,” you answered, resting your glass on your knee. “I really didn’t want to come but now that I know you’re here things aren’t looking so bad anymore.”

“Why Y/N are you flirting with me?” Matty asked, smiling as he pressed a hand to his chest.

“I might be,” you responded with a sly shrug that made Matty’s mind go absolutely wild. “Is it working?”

“Why yes I think it is,” he said.

“Hmm,” you hummed as you reached up to play with his curls. “It’s kind of loud in here, do you want to maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

“I don’t live too far from here,” he said. “If you’re comfortable with going back to my place, that is. We can go to yours if you want, I-”

“Shh,” you pressed a finger to his lips, cutting off his rambling. “We’ve known each other for years and I’ve been to your place a hundred times. Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Matty breathed when you lifted your finger from his lips. He wrapped his arm around your waist as you slipped out of the party, ignoring all the looks thrown your way by Matty’s teammates. He smiled as he opened the passenger side door of his car for you, his mind coming up with all different types of scenarios for what the next couple hours would entail.

His hand rested on your thigh as he drove home, fingertips resting on the skin of your leg the skirt of your dress exposed. Your fingers were laced in his hair, playing with the curls to distract yourself.

The parking garage of his apartment building as well as the elevator up to his floor were void of people. He took the opportunity to pepper kisses beneath your ear and trail them down your neck to your shoulder. You hummed and cupped the back of his head, fingers resuming their infatuation with his hair. The elevator dinged, and he led you down the hall to his apartment at the very end.

“Do you have thick walls?” you asked in the best sultry voice you could muster.

“Yes,” Matty answered, pulling your lips up to his and capturing them in a kiss. You succumbed to him, letting him take the lead as he kissed you and walked back to his bedroom. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles.

“Do you have protection?” you pulled away completely breathless.

“Yeah,” Matty nodded, also trying to catch his breath. “Can- can I take your dress off?”

“Please,” you nodded, standing for him to do as he pleased.

“Fuck,” he murmured as he pulled the zipper in the back down. Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands explored the vast plains of your skin that your dress revealed as it fell to the floor. You stepped out of it and kicked it aside before turning to face Matty.

“My turn,” you said as your fingers hastily undid the buttons of his dress shirt. He shrugged it off and tossed it to join your dress on the floor. You moved to his belt, unbuckling it and slowly pulling it from his belt loops. Your fingers traced the hard lines of his abs down to his pronounced v-line.

“So sexy with all your tattoos,” Matty hummed as he traced the intricate lines of ink on your shoulder and down your back. His fingers stalled at the clip of your bra, his eyes looking to you for permission. You bit your lip and nodded. He undid with ease and tossed it off behind you.

“You should get a couple,” you hummed, leaning forward to press kisses to his chest.

“Yeah right my mother will kill me.”

“Let’s not talk about parents right now, okay?” you said as you let yourself fall back against his mattress.

“Good idea,” he smirked. He crawled his way up your body, leaving kisses along the tattoo that covered your thigh and your hip. He took your panties between his teeth and pulled them down your legs.

His calloused hands spread your thighs apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him. He made an animalistic noise before licking a wide stripe up your pussy. You moaned loudly, gripping the sheets at his brashness. His tongue moved in ways you’d never felt from anybody before. He combined kitten licks at your clit with sharp nibbles before blowing gently. He repeated the action over and over again until you came over his mouth, screams ripping from your throat.

“And in what frat house did you pick up that little trick?” you asked, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

Matty just laughed and crawled his way back up your body. He captured your lips in another kiss as you popped the button on his pants. He shook them off, ditching them somewhere in the room to be forgotten until morning. He reached for his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer. You bit your lip as you watched him roll it onto his cock.

You locked your ankles together behind his back, trapping him between your legs.

“If you wanted me all you had to do was say so,” Matty chuckled darkly as he pulled away. You gripped his curls hard, forcing a whine out of his mouth. Your eyes widened at the noise.

“Matthew Tkachuk has a hair pulling kink,” you hummed, smirking mischievously. “Who would have known.”

“One word about it and you won’t walk for a week,” Matty growled, dipping his head and sucking at a point on your neck beneath your ear.

“Is that a promise?” you asked, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Mm, if you like what I can do,” he retorted.

“Then show me.”

Without warning Matty thrust into you, ripping your breath from your lungs. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he stilled, giving your body time to adjust.

“Go,” you murmured in his ear, one hand coming to grip his curls. He whined at the sharp tug you gave.

His hips rolled gently, testing the water. Your body shuddered at the feeling of his heavy cock cheated inside you. Matty fell into a rhythm of gentle thrusts. Your bodies moved in synch, the tip of his cock hitting that spot every time. You swallowed each other’s moans as your own, sharing in your pleasure completely.

Matty gave almost as much as he took. Your pelvis met his with every roll and thrust of his hips. He let out the occasional whine or whimper when you pulled his hair. It was something you kept tucked away in the back of your mind for later use.

“Matty,” you moaned, tugging on his hair as you felt that knot in your lower stomach build up.

“You close?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Mhm,” you nodded with a whine.

“Me too,” he grunted. Your fingernails dug into the muscles of his back, warning him. “Come on, Y/N, let go.”

You came with a cry, curling yourself around Matty as white hot pleasure rippled through your body. Matty was close behind, coming with a shout of his own.

“Oh my god,” you panted as Matty collapsed on the mattress beside you, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Agreed,” he responded with a breathy laugh. “You okay?”

“Never been better,” you responded, smiling over at him. He pulled off the dirty condom and tossed it into the trash bin.

“I’ll be right back,” he kissed your forehead before rolling out of bed and walking to the bathroom. He returned just a few minutes later with a damp washcloth and settled between your thighs, this time to gently wipe your legs clean.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” you asked hopefully, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Of course,” Matty responded as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and tossed you one of his Flames t-shirts. “I’ll go sleep in the guest room, you don’t need to move.”

“Matthew Tkachuk,” you said scoldingly. “We just had some of the most amazing sex I’ve ever had and you think I want to sleep alone tonight?”

“Well, I-”

“Get your ass back in bed.”

288 notes · View notes

waywardtakami · 3 years

Text

- don't leave me

✦pairing: hawks x gn!reader

✦c/w: language, slight mha manga spoilers, 16+ only , angst

✦a/n: hello!! I'm very excited about this fic, it's my first gn one! It's been sitting in my wips for so long and I'm finally happy with it. hopefully people will still read this without there being smut. thank you! <3

✦summary: hawks gets hurt during a mission...

✦w/c: 2k

Keigo had left you again to fight in another mission. He had only been gone for a few days, but you wished he was with you instead. You missed him so much. He hadn't been physically by your side in so long, causing your heart to ache again. Times like these were practically torture. Waking up without him by your side was agonizing, but you were used to it.

His job was all-consuming and you knew him being away for large amounts of time would affect you when you committed yourself to this relationship. There was a constant worry for his life and maybe a little for your own.

You and Kei decided to keep your relationship as private as possible so no one would go after you. He didn't want anyone to kidnap or hurt you.

Even though his musk scent was flooded throughout your shared home, you still tried distracting yourself the best you could.

After making your favorite food, you plopped onto the couch and turned on the TV to try and take your mind off him.

As the TV flickered on, your boyfriend's face flashed across the screen. A gruff voice played over what was being shown. You assumed it was just something about his stats or a recent interview per usual. It didn't help the feeling in your heart subside by seeing him.

You changed the channel, again and again. But every channel had been taken over by the same broadcast. You eventually fixated and listened.

Your heart dropped.

Hawks had been accused of murder.

"Murder...?" you mumbled to yourself. "No..he...what?" Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to thump out of your chest. You were stuck in a pool of emotions of confusion and immense shock, it was like your head was on fire.

Dabi...one of the League of Villain members was behind this. All the information you received was from Keigo's colleagues and the media.

Keigo had been hurt bad...real bad.

The fact that you couldn't do anything about it had you overwhelmed and panicked. When you finally found out which hospital he was brought to through FatGum, you drove yourself there.

Of course he was brought to one one of the furthest ones from where you guys lived. On top of that, traffic was horrendous. With everything that had gone down, the citizens of the city were frantic and trying to get home to their families.

Your hands and entire body practically trembled while driving. Your eyes pricked with tears at the thought of Keigo's wounded state. "He's fine he's fine he's FINE!" You kept telling yourself over and over.

When you made it to the hospital, there was a large number of people in the waiting room. The sounds of people clamoring in and trying to get a room were deafening. You hurried over to the front desk.

"Hello Ma'am I need to see Hawks, he should be here." She wouldn't let you in his room. You wanted to see him, no you needed to see him. You started crying, pleading, begging for her to let you go in his room. But the front desk lady apologized and insisted he needed to rest and isn't accepting visitors.

You knew it was really because she probably thought you were just some fan of his. Or maybe even a reporter trying to sneak in photos. But no, you were his baby, his life, and they weren't going to let you in.

"I'M HIS DAMN PARTNER FOR GOD SAKES!" You yell while slamming your fist against the counter. You didn't realize how much impact you put into your fist until you felt pain in your hand. The waiting room goes almost quiet and heads turn to look at you. You glance back to see all the faces turned to you.

Your voice softens from embarrassment. "Please...just let me see him." Your fist still against the counter looking at the nurse with tears streaming down your face.

She stands up and moves closer, "I'm so sorry, I believe you…" She slides a clip board with a few papers attached. "...but we can't let you in just yet he's still recovering from his injuries, he needs to rest right now. Please fill these out while you wait." She looks back up with you with a faint smile. She really does believe you. She can see it in your eyes, the pain, she understood.

You release your hand, and pick up the clipboard. Looking at her on the other side of the counter you give her a face flustered nod and mouth a quick "thank you."

You go sit down comfortably in one of the empty chairs to wait for keigo to wake up...

The news of your wounded boyfriend was already half across Japan. After filling out the forms you scroll through your phone to calm yourself down. You kept seeing post after post about him. Almost all news headlines had his name.

You think to yourself about how much of it is all bullshit and that he's fine. Deep down you weren't sure if the words your brain kept telling you were true. You click on one of the posts about him that reads:

"THE NUMBER TWO PRO HERO DEAD"

Your heart skips a beat, but quickly you realize it's just a fake. You scroll through, lightly skimming the bullcrap you were reading. You scroll and see a photo taken of him the night he was brought to the hospital. You wonder how the press even got a photo of him. You focus on the photo, he does look dead. It only showed his upper body, completely covered in burns. More tears forming at the corners of your eyes just seeing him in the photo. Oh and his wings, his big bright vermilion wings...gone.

You were a complete mess at this point but your sniffles and choked sobs were interrupted by the front desk lady waving to you. "He's awake."

Quickly following her into the room you see him. As you stand in the doorway for a moment, your heart sinks. You hurry to him. He had bandages wrapped around his head. His hair was short and mostly singed off. And his wings...they really were gone. "I'll leave you two alone," the nurse walks out and closes the door behind her.

You turn back to him.

"Kei?" you whimpered out.

His half lidded eyes look at you. His formerly bright, charming and yellow pupils have become dark and filled with anguish. He was wearing a mask over his nose and mouth with two tubes coming from the sides of it. He couldn't speak or breath himself, due to his throat being burned.

Of course he knew it was you. Tears welled up deep inside and coursed down his cheeks. Seeing him like this had your body nauseas. You move to cup your hand on his face, feeling the material of his mask rather than his soft subtle skin. You graze your thumb against his cheekbone to wipe away his tears.

You pick up one of his hands to hold it in yours. "Kei….I'm so glad you're okay." You were sniffling through each word. He slowly raises his arm to point to the phone sitting on the table near his hospital bed. Handing it to him, you watch as his calloused fingers type out what he wants to say.

"Angel, I've missed you so much, please never leave my side." You faintly smile at him, wishing you could hear those words come from his mouth and not the AI voice.

"I won't leave you Keigo, I'm here, I won't go anywhere."

He types again. "I'm pretty beat up, but I think I'll make it."

Your ears focus on "think" for a moment. "Yes Kei you'll be fine, everything's gonna be okay. You felt a bit better being in his presence but you still couldn't bear the sight of him. Your eyes began to prick with tears once again and this time Kei was the one who bought his hand up to brush your tears away just like you did moments ago.

You try your best to wrap your arms around him without causing him anymore pain. You could feel him wince when you laid your head against his chest. "Sorry Kei I didn't mean to hur-" He waves his hand and shakes his head, signaling that it's okay.

Your body looked calm despite how tangled your mind was.There were many questions that flooded your mind. So many things you wanted to say. But you could worry about the details later. Right now you were finally with him again, there was no way you were letting him leave you ever again.

You were bent over, upper body on top of him at an awkward position. You didn't want to hurt him, so this had to work.

Despite the position, you took in the moment with your boyfriend. Feeling his chest slowly rise up and down. You close your eyes and imagine you were back home with him in bed. Just snuggling on a weekend afternoon, light shining in on him making his wings light up beautifully against the sun. His golden locks and glowing skin, his scent washing over your senses. Your warm bodies practically glued together. You wanted that again, you wanted everything back to normal.

He moved one of his scarred hands to your back, slowly rubbing up and down. He knew he wasn't going to make it. He was fighting so hard on the inside. So damn hard...for you. He didn't want to leave you, he couldn't. His mind wandered about the life he had planned to have with you.

He faintly smiled under the mask when he imagined you walking down the aisle...holding your first child...sitting in little rocking chairs growing old together. That's all he wanted.

Both of your tears never stopped. You were both silent. The only sounds to be heard were each other's quiet sniffles and the monitor Keigo was attached to, making a faint beep to his heart beat. Still laying on his chest, his breathing started to slow and so did the beeping, being lost in the moment you didn't notice really but he knew.

He waved his hand signaling for you to stand up and brought his hand to take off his mask. He couldn't hold on much longer. Every aching pain inside him felt like knives stabbing his insides and with each stab more time from his life was taken.

"Kei, you need to keep it on to breath, please." He shakes his head and takes it off anyways. The beeping still started to slow. The mask hung off the side of his face. His honeyed voice now husk from the burns.

"Baby...I love you so...so.." He coughs making him hiss at the pain.

"No..fuck..Kei stop, you're going to be okay just put the damn mask on."

"I'm too..far..gone, I have no more fight left."

Holding his jaw in your hands,your face inches from him. "No you have to stay strong for me, please don't leave me again, I can't do this without you."

"Kid...please...when I'm gone...find someone else and-

"NO- I ONLY WANT YOU!" You cry out, holding his head to your chest. Long-lasting sobs leaving your mouth.

"I love...you" His breathing is heavy from trying to speak. He needed to tell you this. He needed you to understand how much he loves you.

Moving his head from your chest. "I love you too...kiego." You manage to say through your choked sobs.

You move to have your lips brush his, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin. He closes his eyes and connects his lips to yours. It was deep and passionate, like you were kissing him for the first time. You held one side of his face with one hand, and held his hand with the other.

But when you pull away, his eyes don't open. It's like that's all he wanted, no needed. One last kiss, one last touch. To feel you.

His breathing completely slows, and you're left with the prolonged beep of the monitor. He was gone. The man who was always too fast for his own good, had left you and the world too fast.

✶tag list: @levithestripper @sleepysnk @conniesspringersgf @regretfulfairies @miyanom @sashatotie @romeoandjuliet96 @strawberry-pp @megvmi-s @cinnamonnn-roll @gooddayzarerare @kkodzvken

147 notes · View notes

thanx-idonttry · 3 years

Text

Bakugou x Black Singer/Blogger!Reader

They Are Pro Heroes, like Age 25.

This came out longer than expected.

Tags: Fluff. Bakugou being a fanboy.

You weren’t hugely famous, but you were internet famous, and that’s still pretty huge. You were just a Black girl showing your voice, hoping to brighten someone’s day.

And with each video of you upload to your blog, you manage to make over 1 million people smile. And one of those 1 million people was Katsuki Bakugou, A.K.A Dynamite. One half of the #1 Pro Hero of Japan.

A few years after high school, He and Midoriya teamed up and climbed the charts to the #1 spot. As busy as he and Midoriya is, he always finds time to watch each and every one of your videos.

He made a secret page under another name, just to like and reblog your videos. He likes to start his day by clicking one of your singing videos, and blare it through his house as he gets ready for the day. He could be going to work of off for the day, he’ll play one of songs.

The man was hooked as soon as he heard you do a cover to Beyonce’s “1+1″. He was shooketh! He’s used to hearing your original songs, you rarely do covers. But he still loved it. Unable to look away from you as your power house voice blocked out everything around him. He loved hearing you sing or watching your other videos of miscellaneous things because it relates to your culture, which he really isn’t exposed to all the time. So he watches to learn more.

But he really just likes watching you. You look so passionate when you do your blogs, it was so interesting to him. You were such a foreign masterpiece to him, everything from your thick, curly (or braided) dark hair. Your brown (or Hazel) eyes seemed so bright to him. Your skin tone was so wonderful, it always made you look like you were glowing. And your attitude was nothing to play with. He realized that when you obliterated a racist hater on one of her live videos.

He was crushing, he was crushing hard and didn’t even realize it yet. He’ll put on one your videos to relax him Not long before his friends catch on and realize that he was a fan. The first to find out was Midoriya. (He works with the man sooo...) Catching Bakugou watching your videos. “Oh you Follow Y/N too? I think she’s really talented.” Midoriya says to him.

Katsuki, who was still wrapped up in watching you talk about the injustices against your race, he accidentally let “She’s so fucking wonderful.” Slip out loud, and Midoriya smirked teasingly.

Bakugou stiffened, completely frozen with wide eyes and a red tint hitting his face. “Did I hear right? Kacchan has a crush on Y/N?” He teased. In honesty, he’s happy for Bakugou.

But Bakugou being a proud man, doesn’t want to fully admit it. “SHUT THE HELL UP!! I just think she’s... Cool.” He says while still trying to cover up his flushed face, He didn’t want anyone seeing this.

He was embarrassed, his secret is out. He kept you a secret because it was his way of having you all to himself. Even though he didn’t know you and Vice Versa, he wanted you to be his in a way. So yeah, he was crushing.

“So you already know she’ll be here in a couple of weeks for her blog and to do a few promotions. Why don’t you make some arrangements to meet her?” Midoriya suggests, and it makes Bakugou nervous.

“I don’t know about that, she never really mentioned Heroes in any of her posts... I don’t think she’s interested in Pro Heroes.” Bakugou said with some disappointment in his voice

———

“The Wonder Duo once again saved over 200 civilians who were attending a charity ball that was taken hostage by villains. And—” You didn’t even get the chance to hear the rest of the news report because you started fangirling over Dynamite.

They showed clips from the incident and all you could think was how good he looked taking down those villains. You were such a fan of him, but you thought that people would discriminate you two because of your races. Don’t want to constantly hear “DyNaMiTe DoN’t EvEn LiKe BlAcK GiRls” *Insert Eye Roll*

You kept your love for him a secret, if only your fans knew that he was the reason behind every love song you made. You have merchandise from the hero, your love for him ran deep. So you were looking forward to your trip in a couple of weeks, being in the country as Dynamite gave you goosebumps.

A huge part of you was hoping to run into him while you were there. Get him to sign a few things before finishing his patrol, maybe have a little chat. You squealed at the thought of being in front of your favorite hero, thoughts of possibilities floated into your head, like possibly getting a hug, or like sing for him! You wondered if he was a fan of you.

Then a frown appeared on your face, He’s probably too busy to look at your videos. Sure you had fans, but someone like Dynamite is probably too preoccupied with cooler shit to watch your videos. I mean, you two are from different worlds. Then the comments from people of your blog saying “PRO HEROES FROM JAPAN DON’T LIKE BLACK PEOPLE” “DYNAMITE DON’T LIKE BLACK GIRLS” Blah, Blah, Blah.

You were worried that your favorite hero wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You grabbed your plushie of Dynamite and held it tight, you did your best to let them thoughts go, but you knew there was only one way to cool your jets, was to blog about it, then make a video afterwards.

You ranted about black love and the appreciation of Black x Japanese interracial love, and that it’s okay to date outside your race. Love is Love and as long as they respect each others cultures and truly love each other. After you logged off, you started getting ready for your trip. You ignored your phone going off, and continued packing.

When you were done, you decided to write a song to help with the left over nerves you got from multiple things. As you sit there in your bonnet, (Favorite color) tank top, (Other Favorite color) shorts, your house shoes booties, typing lyrics into your phone. In your most natural state, you wondered if Dynamite would like you like this.

You know that you’re beautiful, but the possibility of your future not finding you attractive does bother you. You kept telling yourself to stop thinking like that and focus on your shit. You don’t need obsessing over petty little shit from people you don’t even know.

_____

Bakugou watched your rant video the moment he woke up. He woke up and grabbed his phone. Once he saw your notification on his phone, he fully woke up and instantly clicked play. Once he didn’t see your bright smile, he knew something was up.

He laid in his bed, watching you rant about Black love. He heard you mention Pro heroes, and his eyes widened. He knew someone had irritated you, and that irritated him. He knew for sure that he, and a lot of heroes and civilians here don’t discriminate. He wanted to know who the hell filled your head with this bullshit?! He wanted to make a video, yelling at the extras that think that told you this crap. He wanted to set them straight.

But then people will find out that he’s a fan of you, and if his friends find out... he’ll never hear the end of it. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero will tease him at every given moment. But he wanted to let you know that all of us Heroes in Japan have nothing but love for the black community.

Mirko, the Hero he was a sidekick to for 5 years, She was black. And she was the most Badass out of all heroes. He didn’t want you feel this way, he wanted to find a way to make you smile. You make him smile every morning, so he should return the favor. He’ll have to figure out while he patrolling today.

Bakugou got his opportunity while patrolling with Midoriya. The town was holding a festival and a lot of people were attending, including 5-6 News reporters. The Mayor had asked them to guard the event, and of course, being heroes, they accepted.

A idiot wannabe Villain with his quirk being animal shapeshifting, turned into a giant, raging Ape. He was bent on destroying the festival and everything that makes people happy. He and Midoriya took him down in like 10 mins, and of course, reporters wanted them to say a few words or interview them. “Dynamite! Deku! Do you have any words to say?” a reporter asked as she shoved her mic in his face.

“All I wanna say is... I fucking Love Black People, They are awesome! Awesome, strong, and especially beautiful. Shout to all the Black Girls/Women everywhere.“ Then he walked off to give the villain to the cops. Midoriya chimed in and said. “I agree with everything he said. Shout out to the Black People! If you feel like your lives don’t matter to anyone, just know and remember that they truly matter to us, and we’re going to do are hardest to make you all feel protected.“ Then he walked off, catching up to Bakugou.

____

“All I wanna say is... I fucking Love Black People, They are awesome! Awesome, strong, and especially beautiful. Shout to all the Black Girls/Women everywhere.“

“I agree with everything he said. Shout out to the Black People! If you feel like your lives don’t matter to anyone, just know and remember that they truly matter to us, and we’re going to do are hardest to make you all feel protected.“

The video you watched on the plane was weeks old, but it stills get you feeling good. After you saw this video for the first time two weeks ago, you kinda been smug about it. But not in a bad way.

You felt safe Wearing your Dynamite mearch while blogging or singing. You showed a different side of your room, The side where your shrine to Pro Heroes were. Posters, pillows, and Chibi Dolls.

You even Admitted it to your fans that you were a Hero Nerd, and that brought more followers to your page. You felt great that you didn’t have to hide anymore. Little did you know, A certain Hero was following and loving it more. Making sure to leave a like and reblog on your content.

You were excited for this trip and the Concert you were opening for tonight. You also have a Meet & Greet, so you know this will be great for your content. You were also secretly hoping to run into your dream Hero. You know they say “Don’t Meet Your Hero!” But they can eat your ass because you’re making that happen! You’re favorite hero loves Black Women.

You started to wonder... It’s kind of weird how after you made your rant video about Black Love, He said that on the news. A surge went through your body as your mind wondered to the fact that Dynamite might actually watch your videos! What if he comes to your concert? *Le gasp* What if he shows up at your meet and greet?! Your internal fangirl started coming out. You had tell yourself to calm down before the people on the plane think you’re being killed or something.

You took one selfie to show that you were on the way, posted it, and fell asleep. When you wake up, You’ll be in Japan.

____

Bakugou was changing out of his hero clothing, finally ending a long day at work. He had just got healed and patched up, and not he was prepping to leave when his phone went off. He reached for it and saw that had you had posted a selfie, and now you’re going live as you approach a familiar theatre.

His eyes widened, He knew exactly where that place was. Then Deku came bursting in, phone in his hand showing the same video he was watching. He had such excitement on his face, he honestly startled Bakugou the way Midoriya bursted in.

“KACCHAN! KACCHAN! WE CAN MAKE IT! WE CAN SEE AND MEET HER!“ Midoriya yelled. His eyes were showing that excitement when he meets a cool hero, a smile to match his excitement. “Get dressed quick! we can still make it on time to see her perform.“

“SHHHH! Shut The Fuck Up Before Someone Hears You Deku! and, I know. I’m getting ready.“ Bakugou had a slight blush on his face, and he was trembling. Why the fuck was he trembling?! He’s just going to meet a person that he enjoys. Someone that he watches damn near everyday and plays her music, nothing special right?

His heart was racing, he couldn’t control his feelings inside, but he did his best to not show them externally. He doesn’t want to look like Midoriya right now. But he had to admit it to himself, he was excited as hell.

Both of them put on hoodies and Sunglasses to hide their identity as they went to the concert. Bakugou’s trembling got a little more noticeable because he was in the same building as you. When you came on stage, Bakugou’s breath hitched. You were even more stunning in person, it was like you had a glow around you as you thanked everyone for coming out.

As you began to sing, what normally happens to Bakugou, happened 10x more. As your voice hits his ears, he tuned out everyone here. He got tunnel vision, and all he could see and here was you. Midoriya looked at his friend and noticed that Bakugou had loving/relaxed smile on his face. His eyes glued on you. And that gave Midoriya an Idea.

When you were done with your performance, Midoriya dragged Bakugou backstage, to your dressing room. The guards weren’t letting them pass until Midoriya revealed who they were, then the doors flew open for them. (Perks of Being the #1 Heroes.) They knocked on the door, and heard your voice, Bakugou tensed up.

The only thing that separated you and him was a door. Bakugou’s breathing got heavy, all common sense and the words he knew floated out his head. all he thought was “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! SHE’S BEHIND THIS DOOR!!!”

You asked who was it, and Of course, Midoriya was the one to speak first. “Hi, you don’t know us, but My name is Deku, and I’m the #1-“

The door flew opened before Midoriya had the chance to finish. You stood the with your eyes wide and jaw to the floor. In front of you stood Japan’s #1 heroes, you couldn’t believe it. “No fucking way!” was all you could get out. “I just wanted to say that I know you had a meet and greet, but we’re big fans, especially my partner here. We couldn’t wait” Midoriya finished before pushing Bakugou forward towards you.

Bakugou stumbled but caught himself as he stood directly in front of you. There you stood, in all your glory, looking like a Black Goddess. He felt like he wasn’t worthy to be in your presence. He had to collect himself, he had to say something to you! Wait a minute, he’s Katsuki fucking Bakugou! Dynamite! The Great Explosion Murder God! He shouldn’t be nervous! He’s got this

He cleared his throat, then you smiled at him. All that nerve he built, fluttered away like butterflies. He grew a love sick smile and looked at you lovingly. “I love you” Slipped out of his mouth. You gasped, then Bakugou realized what he said and nervously tried to correct his mistake. “Your Work! I love your work! I mean I don’t love you- not to sound like I hate you, I-I mean I actually think you’re amazing....ly talented! Oh Fuck! Let me start over! I’m Dynamite, but you already know that, but you can call me Bakugou. And I enjoy your work.”

Remember what they said about meet you heroes? EAT MY ASS FUCKERS! DYNAMITE IS A FAN!!!!

“He’s a huge fan! he watches everything you post!“ Deku chimed in with his teasing voice and smirk, which caused Bakugou to threaten Midoriya to shut up. You stepped aside to let the two pro heroes into your dressing room.

There the three of you talked. But it was mostly you and Bakugou talking. You find out that he’s been following you for a while and vice versa. You and Bakugou hit off so well, he invited you to lunch and you invited him to do a vid with him.

It was like the more you talk, the more Bakugou grew to like you. He gave you his contact info because he wanted to keep in touch with you. He appreciated everything that you are, and would love to see more of you in person. Even offered to pay for you to come back soon.

The two of you started traveling to see one another, like him traveling to the states and you going to his country. It wasn’t long before you two started dating. You two doing vids together, and him recording you sing.

Lets just say the world couldn’t predict that you and Japan’s biggest Hero would be a huge Power Couple.

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nmikaelsonimagines · 3 years

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Haunted, Part Three: A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

So here it is! The final part! Hope this is okay for you guys, and enjoy x

Need to catch up? Find the rest of the series just below:

Haunted

I just know You're not gone, you can't be gone, no

Y/N blamed her heart breaking on that damned bond between her and Klaus. He looked at her so differently from how he had a week ago, so differently from how he looked at her in her dreams. He looked at her with anger, with rage, with hatred. This wasn’t the Klaus that had saved her life, that had spoken to her with kindness and honesty.

This was the Klaus that New Orleans feared, and for the first time since that night, Y/N suspected he might be plotting to kill her again. She quickly dismissed the thought, refusing to believe that the Klaus she was bonded to was gone, the Klaus that she had found herself falling for having disappeared.

“I’ll ask again. What is she doing here?” Klaus glared at his sister. Freya took a step forward, and Y/N noticed how she seemed to shield her with her body.

“She came asking questions, Klaus. And I told her about the mating bond.”

Klaus looked at Y/N, and for a moment, she could have sworn that she saw that familiar kindness in his eyes as his features softened. But the voice that left his lips was clipped, harsh, the words of a ruler. “Good. So now you know. And now you can go.”

Y/N didn’t have a chance to answer before Klaus made his way up the stairs.

She wasn’t in control of her actions as she followed him, that bond pulling her towards her something.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out

“Where were you?” Y/N asked Klaus’s back. He turned and faced her, anger still present in his features. She couldn’t understand him. The night he had saved her life had been the result of following her around, and now he couldn’t bear to have her in his sight. Surely this mating bond was supposed to keep them together, rather than tear them apart? “Freya said you had things to figure out.”

“And last I checked it was none of your business, love, so off you pop.” Klaus waved his hand in the direction of the door, and Y/N swallowed. She would refuse to do as he told her, refused to let this be the end of something that had barely started.

“We need to talk about this surely.”

He said nothing, just turned his back on her and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“Klaus, I’m your-”

In an instant, Klaus was inches from her. She should have been scared, but she wasn’t. She couldn’t be scared of him – it wasn’t in her nature. There was venom in his words, the tone she imagined he used on his enemies. She expected his eyes to turn to gold, but found herself lost in that deep blue once again.

“Don’t, Y/N. Don’t say it.”

Something's gone terribly wrong Won't finish what you started

“Why not?” Y/N noticed how Klaus’s eyes flitted to her lips, and every part of her wanted him to kiss her. She was finding it easier to fall into the state that the mystical bond provided; it was so easy to admit defeat, to fall for Niklaus Mikaelson. It should have terrified her, how she had so little control of her attraction to him, but instead it only thrilled her.

“Because,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “if you say it, it makes it real.”

“It’s already real, Klaus.”

Klaus moved away from her, running a hand over his face. Y/N didn’t want him to speak, knowing what he was thinking. That he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about anyone, that he was Klaus Mikaelson, the most powerful creature in history, that this wasn’t the way things were supposed to go for him.

He turned and looked at her again, and for the first time since he had returned, Klaus seemed almost saddened. Y/N wanted to reach out and hold his hand, wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay. Instead, she stood and waited, ignoring the pull on that invisible string that urged her to go to him.

And then Klaus Mikaelson finally opened up.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out

“I felt it when you arrived, Y/N. I felt in here,” he pointed at his chest, at the spot where his heart lay, “and all I knew is that I needed to see you. So I looked for you, followed this pull, until I found you. I didn’t know how much you knew about the supernatural, about vampires, werewolves, witches, so I stayed out of sight. There was just this feeling in me that I had to protect you, had to know where you were all the time. And then, then that vampire attacked you, and I knew that I had to save you. I never wanted you to see me like that, but I wasn’t in control when I thought about you dying, about you leaving me.”

“That doesn’t matter, Klaus. I’m glad I saw you like that. I’m glad you saved my life.”

But it still didn’t account for why he had left, why he had been so cruel only moments ago. Y/N didn’t press the matter, knowing it would be best to let him speak when he needed to. The bond was obviously having an effect on him too, and he was struggling.

It made her heart ache for him even more.

Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't go back, I'm haunted

Klaus continued, his eyes never leaving hers. “And then you asked to see me, and I knew I needed to talk to you. The moment you looked at me I knew then what this,” he gestured between the two of them, “was. I figured the best thing for me to do was to leave, to try and forget about you. But doing that was worse than death. Being apart from you was like I couldn’t breathe, haunted by dreams of your face, your eyes, your smile, your voice saying my name and telling me everything I’ve ever wanted to hear. That bond? That kind of love never dies, and I should have known better than to try and hide from it.”

“So you came back.”

“I came back, hoping you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Y/N couldn’t deny the blow that hit her. Here was Klaus Mikaelson telling her what she had wanted to hear, yet he didn’t want her to say it back. “Why?”

“Because being with me, being mine, is only going to get you killed.”

Y/N shivered at the words that left his lips, the idea of being Klaus’s. He spoke the truth, she knew that, but there was a larger part of her, the one controlled by that bond that told her it was worth the risk.

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time

“You should leave, before you get hurt.” Klaus sounded resigned, turning away from Y/N once again. She knew that he was fragile, knew that he was vulnerable, knew that it was all her fault, and anything she said ran the risk of making it worse. But she couldn’t help what she said, determined. She had come to New Orleans for a reason, and she wasn’t going to let that reason disappear.

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not leaving.” Y/N took a step towards Klaus Mikaelson, the Original hybrid, defiance in every step, until she reached him, her lips inches away from his. “You’re worried about my safety, I get that. But you’re Klaus Mikaelson. If anyone is going to keep me alive, it’s you. In more ways than one.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because the universe is, apparently. It’s decided that you and I are supposed to be together, and I’m not going to ignore that. Neither should you when it’s clear that you can’t. So, if you’re willing, I think we should give this a go.”

Y/N’s heart was beating rapidly, anticipation threatening to drown her as she waited for Klaus’s answer. He looked to be chewing on her words, torn between what he thought was best for her and what was best for him.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he smiled.

Never ever thought I'd see it break Never thought I'd see it

Something had pulled Y/N to New Orleans, and as she smoothed down her dress that evening, she realised that she was beyond thankful for it. That something came in the form of the gentleman who would be picking her up in a matter of minutes, taking her on their first date.

That string that had kept tugging her towards Klaus Mikaelson had fastened into a secure knot now, one that would never be untangled, at least, not as long as she had anything to do with it.

It was strange how he had gone from a nuisance to a fear to her partner. To the love of her life. Of course, she didn’t quite know about that last bit just yet. There was that mating bond, yes, but it would be for her to decide if it worked out.

Although the thought of spending her life with Klaus did have its appeal. Y/N smiled at her reflection as she thought about it, eyes brightening when she heard the doorbell ring. She ran to the door, opening it and revealing Klaus.

He looked at her with those sapphire eyes that she remembered from that first night, that smile from earlier in the day. Y/N was almost breathless as she greeted him. “Hi.”

“Hello, love.”

Masterlist

#TVD #tvd imagine #tvd imagines #the vampire diaries #to #the originals #the originals imagines #the originals imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagines #klaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson imagines #niklaus mikaelson imagine #niklaus mikaelson x reader #Joseph Morgan

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years

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Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: Staying in a hotel on Puggart Bench while in between expeditions has given you and Ezra a lot of time to develop your relationship both emotionally and physically. On your last night before you depart for your next trip together, you decide to try out one of Ezra’s kinks. Your heartstrings aren’t the only things that will be getting tied up this evening.

Word Count: 6.8k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! because this is like 80% smut

Warnings: mild allusion to a rocky relationship from this oneshot (both partners have made up and are now in an established relationship), smut, soft-ish bondage (f gets tied up), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl please), dirty talk, swearing, a hand on a throat but no choking, one (1) instance of ✨spitting✨, questionable kink shaming??💀(a joke is made about daddy kinks), comma splice, atrocious metaphor and repetitive sentence structure galore. also no beta reader, and reader uses she/her pronouns and is afab.

Author’s Note: this is my first smut fic! i really appreciated all of the positive feedback that i got on my first fic (💚), so i thought i would do a smutty follow-up to it! if you haven’t read it and you’d like to, you can read it here. i tried my best to make this fic readable as a standalone oneshot though, so if you’d like to do that, that’s cool too! :) i think the only things new readers need to know are that Ezra’s nickname for the reader is Goose, and The Blue is a moon, like The Green, that Ezra, Cee and the reader traveled to in my last fic. also i reference the traffic light system a lot more in this fic than i have personally read in other fics, just because i feel like it’s a great way of checking in on your partner during sex. i know it might get a lil annoying after a while, but i think it’s important to keep it up. i also wanted to include it in my first fic bc even though i might not use it explicitly in my next fics, i want it to be understood that I think it’s super important to continue to check on your partner, etc. also i apologize if the smut isn’t “realistic”, as your writer is 100% a virgin skjfskdj💀 i don’t think that means that i don't know/can't learn how to write some smut though! however i would just keep that in mind💀, and i hope you enjoy it! :)🍀💜

p.s. i'd like to say thank you to @martinsmomo one more time for giving me the amazing request for my first fic! 💕

gif by @skyshipper

“Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.”

The patch job of your relationship with Ezra on The Blue was a success. Spending an equal amount of time with him alone, alone with Cee and as a trio boosted your strength as a group. The awkward silences and argumentative expeditions around The Blue were no more, and were replaced with friendly banter and jovial hikes. You and Ezra had made up so much that you had started to express your affection for one another physically.

On every third day or so, Cee would go out on a trip alone, needing some time to herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t stand the two of you - although you and Ezra occasionally found joy in pushing her buttons - but she enjoyed doing activities by herself. It made her feel like she was fortifying her transition from teenager to young adult. You and Ezra couldn’t have agreed more and supported her independent decisions.

And on every third day or so, her absence from the pod allowed your courage to physically engage with Ezra to grow. The two of you had kept it to a minimum, not wanting Cee to notice any blushing cheeks or sweaty foreheads or panting chests when she would return. The majority of your time was spent just cuddling in positions that were a little too sexually charged to be considered platonic: a leg wound around a waist here, a hand gripping an ass there. The heaviest moment you had had was during a makeout session.

While lying down in Ezra’s makeshift bed and mingling tastebuds, you had hiked one of your legs up and over his hips. Soon after, you felt the tip of his cock poke the underside of your thigh. He couldn’t have been harder. You dared to relieve some of his pent up arousal while still maintaining some semblance of innocence and released your grip on his hair, slid your hand down his broad chest and slipped it underneath your leg to get to his erection. You held it and ran your fingers over the tip of it, then along its length, hoping to get a good idea of what your pussy would have to take on at some later time. The moment Ezra felt the light weight of your hand, he moaned deeply into your mouth. He had then broken your kiss and warned, “Goose, in all seriousness, you should highly consider concluding your investigation unless you want to throw me into a pit of agonizing embarrassment.”

You teased, his clothed cock still in hand, “Ezra, I think we should stick to swallowing each other’s tongues and not speaking in them.”

He had hummed in delight and grinned at you, then sighed, “Okay then, in your plebeian lingo: if you don’t stop rubbing my cock, I’ll cum in my pants.”

You both erupted in laughter, and you had snaked your hands back up his body and entangled them in his hair, taking his tongue in your mouth once again.

After your departure from The Blue, your gang had decided to stop on Puggart Bench and decompress for a while. Cee wanted to hang out with her friends before they all went their separate ways in their new adult lives, Ezra wanted to repay the loan he had taken out for his prosthetic arm and you wanted a real bed to sleep in. Not a pilot’s chair, not a bundle of blankets on a metal floor, but a real bed. With a mattress, a comforter, a nice set of sheets, a plethora of blankets and pillows. A two bedroom suite in Puggart Bench’s most prestigious hotel was what the three of you had booked for two months before another orbiting moon made its way into the Bakhroma System for the three of you to explore. Your group had engaged in some nice, familial-like activities, nourishing your found family dynamic.

You and Ezra had also spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other physically. While Cee would spend the day with her friends, you and Ezra never left your bed. Well, technically Ezra left the bed when he would stand, pull you to the very edge of it and subsequently use his newfound balance to pound into you with abandon. Your body hadn’t left the sheets, even when you knelt on the floor and took Ezra down your throat; your back pushed against the side of the mattress with every one of his thrusts.

Fast forward to the present day, and it is the last day you are on Puggart Bench before you leave for The Indigo, the new moon in town. Cee is spending the night at her friend’s house, where she will be having one last sleepover with all of the girls she won’t have the chance to connect with for an undetermined period of time. You feel guilty for looking forward to her leaving because you can only imagine what your bedroom will see of you and Ezra tonight.

While he washed your hair after a particularly exertive romp, Ezra had hinted that he had a kink that he wanted to try out with you. Without a definite return date from The Indigo, he offered that the two of you try it before you left for the moon, his desires getting the best of him. He never elaborated on what the kink is, as the both of you got entranced with washing the rest of your bodies. You plan on bringing it up tonight in the hopes of coming to a decision of whether or not you two have the patience to wait to test it out or not.

The two of you are now putting on a facade of patience as Cee packs her things in her room. You sit in between Ezra’s legs on the couch, back to his torso, both of you reading a different book. The text fails to retain your attention, so you place a finger on the page you are on and fold it over. You shift your head against Ezra’s chest to look up at him, pupils dilating immediately as they take him in. Black thick-rimmed reading glasses grace his face, the only indication in his rugged appearance that he would be a bookworm. He glances down from his book to meet your eyes, smiling at you. He brings his right hand down, brushing the back of the dark grey metal against your cheek. You smile back at him, and a naughty thought pops into your brain.

With your free hand, you find Ezra’s cock in an instant and palm it through his pants. His mouth drops in blissful surprise, but he’s quick to sit up and yank your hand away from his now hard dick. He snaps out a whisper, “Patience, Goose,” and places a light kiss to your temple. He gets up and walks away, afraid that you would just try to place your hand right back where it was. He was also afraid that he wouldn’t have the strength to stop you the next time.

Suitcase clips clap from Cee’s bedroom, and moments later she walks into the living room. You look up at her from the back of the couch: still pouting that Ezra shooed you away, and he looks up at her too, standing behind the kitchen counter: hiding his erection. You both fight through your mutual embarrassment and smile at her, noticing her excitement. She beams at the two of you, suitcase in hand, and raises her shoulders, “Well, I’m going to go now.”

She starts to walk to the door and Ezra follows her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Have a good time, Sparrow. We’ll swing by and scoop you up tomorrow afternoon.”

Cee smiles up at him, “Will do.”

Ezra retracts his hand and puts both in his pockets, “We hate to bar you from seeing your friends and leading a more stable life, but we really do find solace in your company on our travels. It keeps us grounded, as much as one can be on an orbiting moon.”

She turns so that she faces both of you, “No, that’s okay. I really enjoy being with you guys. You’re like a family that I got to pick.”

Tears threaten to run down your cheeks as you get up and rush over to her to give her a tight hug. She returns your embrace and Ezra follows shortly behind, encasing both of you in his arms. He draws giggles from his girls by placing a kiss on each of your heads, and after a moment of relishing in your found family, you all release one another. Cee says her final goodbyes, opens the door and closes it behind her, giving you and Ezra one last final smile of departure.

You feel ashamed by the amount of heat that floods your genitals as soon as you hear the lock of the door click closed. Ezra, ever sensitive to your every mood change, pulls you in close and presses his forehead to yours, “You know we have to wait, Goose.” You nod, all too familiar with your routine once Cee left. You would wait and listen for her to walk down the hallway to the elevators, press the down button, wait for the doors to open, walk inside the chamber once it arrived, wait for the doors to close and finally start to descend to the ground floor. You did so out of respect for her; you and Ezra would never be able to forgive yourselves if she were to, for example, forget something and come back to find the two of you in the middle of some heated relations.

Ezra’s fingers massage your shoulder blades as you anticipate the sound of the elevator opening, fully aware that he was not only dissipating any nerves you have but spurring your arousal on as well. He knows that thoughts of his fingers traveling elsewhere swarm your brain as he alternates the pressure his fingertips give you. With this knowledge, unbeknownst to you, he’s thinking about what his first order for you will be tonight. Would he introduce the kink that he alluded to the other day? Does he just want a night of repeating your default, mind-blowing agenda? How would you feel about reversing roles, and have you be his dominant and him your submissive?

The ping of the elevator down the hall snaps him out of his trance. You eagerly await the whir of the elevator going down, and seconds later your wish is granted. Ezra lets go of you and steps back, eyes raking up and down your body twice before telling you, “Go to the bedroom, strip to your underwear and wait for me.” Such straightforward instructions to come from such an elaborate man. Ezra doesn’t waste a second in giving you seductive orders the moment he hears the elevator descending, his hunger to devour you reaching unbearable levels. With your appetite consisting of the same ferocity, you follow his instructions and go to your bedroom. Plopping onto the bed and laying on your back, you kick your shoes off, shimmy out of your pants and slide your shirt up and over your head, tossing the items to the chair in the corner of the room where you and Ezra kept your clothes. You found it humorous that he, like you, implemented the “chair of discarded clothing” into his life.

Now in just your underwear and socks (Ezra had relayed to you that it is statistically easier to orgasm while wearing socks), you reach over into the nightstand and pull out a necktie. You had been rewarded with such powerful orgasms at the hands of Ezra - literally - that you often couldn’t hold in your cries no matter how hard you tried. The necktie’s usual resting place was in between your teeth, tied around your mouth in an effort to muffle yourself out of courtesy of your neighbors. Ezra’s mouth remained ungagged; the neighbors must’ve thought that he was trying out some new rigorous exercise regime with all of those heaves, grunts and... moans? What sort of move would cause his headboard to repeatedly knock on the wall?

You sit and rub your thumbs on the buttersoft navy silk of the tie, patiently awaiting Ezra’s entrance into the room and later your cunt. A few moments later he comes in and shuts and locks the door behind him, an emergency precaution to protect the eyes of Cee or any intruding employee. He comes over and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. You glide over to him like a magnet and figure out a part of his kink after taking a quick glance into his hands, seeing that he’s holding rope. Black rope, to be exact, of varying lengths. He notices your quizzical brow and asks, “Spill your thoughts, Goose.” You gingerly reach out and touch the rope with your index finger, your vision moving in loops as you trace the coils. You look up and meet his eyes, those warm, curious, assuring windows to his soul that you love ever so dearly. You question, “Do you like to be tied up or do you want to tie me up?”

He displays a faint smile, “I’d find great satisfaction in tying you up. However, I would be a liar if I claimed that the thought of you restraining me and having your way with me never joyfully crossed my mind.”

You sit there in silence, taking in his desires. You are most definitely up for this, you just approach every new romp with hesitation. You hadn’t been a virgin the first time you slept with Ezra, but no one had ever made you feel so good. So open, exposed, on display, in all the right ways. You had been set ablaze by his confident maneuvers, calmed ever so coolly by his doting ministrations. He had drowned you in his passionate love, and you had loved every single fucking second of it. It just got a bit overwhelming at times, which he would take notice of and promptly give you your time and space when you needed it.

The rope intimidates you. It was smooth to the touch on the pad of your finger, but you could already imagine the uncomfortable burns it could give you. The tightness and thickness of the coils add to the fantasy of being completely immovable, but it also plants doubts in your mind. You voice your concerns to Ezra, “I’d love for you to tie me up, but I don’t think I’d like to start with rope.”

He cups your cheek lovingly, “Always one step ahead of me, Goose,” and picks up an end of the necktie in your lap. He rubs it with you, “I don’t want to start with the rope on you, either. I want us to work up to it.” He pats your cheek and holds up the rope in his hands, “I mean, it does look a little scary, doesn’t it?” Your newfound ease lets itself out of your lungs with a giggle, mirrored by Ezra. He turns and puts the rope on the seat at the foot of your bed, and you climb into his lap as he turns back around and cover his mouth with yours. Falling back onto the bed, his arms wrap around you like a snake and constrict you to his body. You grind your pussy onto his clothed torso, desperate for some friction, your soft moans tumbling down his throat.

He has to pull you away from his mouth by the back of your neck, “Let me take my clothes off, sweet girl.” He gives you a chaste kiss before you roll off of him and let him stand to strip. As he gets naked, you remove your panties in a flash, and he quizzes you, “Color system?”

“Green for when I’m enjoying it, yellow for when I’m being pushed to my limits, red for when I’ve reached my limit and need you to stop.”

“Good girl. What’s our safe word?”

“Magpie.”

“Excellent. Are you ready?” he asks as he pulls his underwear down and repeats your earlier action of throwing the discarded clothes onto the chair in the corner.

You nod fervently, “Yes sir.”

He sighs as he walks over to the edge of the bed and kneels, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Goose, you don’t have to call me that. I feel fulfilled enough in my domination with the heavenly noises your precious body emits.”

You shrug, “It’s just natural. It’s a good girl formality, Ez. Aren’t I a good girl?”

He raises an eyebrow as he hooks his hands behind your knees and pulls your legs over the bed so you’re sitting on the edge, “I don’t think good girls let their neediness get the best of them and just fondle cocks out in the open.” You let out a devious laugh, noting his reference to your sneak attack on the couch, and he takes the necktie from you. Your fingers run through his hair for a moment before he gently takes your wrists, smiling up at you.

He reaches up to kiss you, and after your lips part he mumbles against them, “I’m just going to tie your hands together now, okay?”

You nod, “Okay.”

He gives you another wholehearted kiss before sitting back on his feet, beginning to tie your wrists to one another. You admit, although it’s incredibly arousing to watch his thick fingers twirl the smooth fabric into a knot, you grow a little bit anxious at the loss of movement. He can read it on your face after he finishes the knot, “I want you to lay back while I eat you out. I tied your hands in front of you so that you can pinch me if you want me to stop but can’t find your words.” You nod, appreciating the simplicity of his instructions.

“I need you to use your words now, Goose.”

“Okay,” you reiterate, “Safe word is magpie. I can pinch you if I can’t say it.”

He nods, “Good girl,” and eases you onto your back. As he’s moving down your body to your core, something dawns on you, “Wait a minute.”

Ezra pauses and looks up at you with a caring expression, “What?”

“How am I supposed to stay quiet with the tie on my wrists and not in my mouth?”

He answers simplistically with a smirk, “Don't.”

You laugh, “What about the neighbors?”

“Fuck them. They should be grateful that tonight they will be an audience to one of the most beautiful symphonies that has ever been composed. And I’m not stepping foot off of this planet until I’ve heard my good girl’s clear, unabashed screams.”

A rush of hot air leaves your mouth, enticing Ezra to come back up and push it back into you with his tongue. A moment of clashing teeth later, he retreats back down to your core and lightly knocks your legs apart. You shift your gaze downward to find him admiring your cunt, his left hand capturing his dick and pumping it a few times. He leans forward, presses a kiss to your inner thigh and then runs his sharp nose over the spot, up your leg, across your hip and back down to your wetness and inhales deeply. You can’t help but laugh at his display of rapture, his sniffing audible. He threatens you in disbelief, “My indulgence amuses you, Goose?”

You meet his eyes with yours, twinkling with mischief, “Yeah, kind of.”

He puts his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head, “Goose, you are being a bit of a brat.” He pushes your knees to your chest, his hands on the backs of your thighs, keeping them in place, “And you should know by now how much I love taming my little brat.”

You are very aware of how much he enjoys brat taming, hence your acting up. His tongue licks a wide stripe up your core and a gasp escapes your mouth. He moans into you, sending vibrations through your cunt and shivers up your spine. He buries his tongue in you, his lips fornicating with your southern set, his fingers gripping your soft flesh tightly. Your anticipation of this moment has made your cunt oversensitive, so every little tickle of Ezra’s facial hair, every small movement of his warm tongue, every faint nudge of his nose and chin against your vulva makes you moan loudly. The pattern that his tongue is following suddenly picks up speed and your body involuntarily adjusts to it. Your hips buck up into his mouth, your clit weeping to be drenched in his saliva. Your tied hands lower until your fingertips are able to find his hair and intertwine with the thick brunette strands. The stability that gripping onto his hair gives you makes you hyperaware of just how close you are to cumming already. You whimper, “Ezra, please.”

This tone of your voice has been permanently ingrained in his mind thanks to your daily fucks over the past couple months. If the tightening of your hamstrings isn’t a large enough hint to him that you are close, your breathlessness is a blatant clue. He releases you from his mouth, lines of spit keeping the two of you connected, “That’s my girl, come on.” His egging on is more than you need to be shoved into your orgasm. As his tongue returns to lap at your clit, your neck arches up and your eyes roll into the back of your head. A groan rips through your throat that drowns out his muffled moans, his mouth working you through your orgasm. Your sharp intakes of air start to stagger out as your heart begins to calm down, your cunt pulsing with aftershocks. Ezra reluctantly removes his mouth from you, wetting your inner thigh with a line of his spit and your slick before pressing a kiss to the same spot he kissed earlier. The blackness of his pupils overtakes his chocolatey irises when he catches your eyes, dopamine flooding his nervous system.

He presents his wrist, does some math on an imaginary watch and jokes, “That must’ve been a record, Goose.” You giggle and pull your hands up to your mouth, trying to hide your embarrassed smile. He reaches up and pulls your hands back down to tangle your fingers in his cowlicks, “But my desire to drink pools of your cum has not yet been satiated.”

You swear under your breath as he dips his head back in between your legs, your voice catching in your throat when his hot breath cascades over your folds. This time, instead of licking stripes and lapping, he opts to draw shapes and trace circles against you. It sounds stupid, but man does it feel fucking good. Before you lose all self control, you give his scalp a massage, the best one you can muster with conjoined hands, as a way of telling him I love you. Simultaneously, he switches his tongue’s clockwise motion to counterclockwise and hooks his hands around the tops of your thighs, pulling you deeper into his mouth so he can devour you even more thoroughly than he already was. You brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead with your knuckles, seeing that his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed in concentration. He’s been moaning this entire time into you, blissfully lost in the heaven that is your pussy, and as his tongue picks up its pace the vocal vibrations boost your toward your release. You beg of him, “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he heightens your arousal one step further than you thought possible. He notes your utter wetness and decides to fill your wanting hole by snaking his left hand down to your entrance and slipping two fingers inside you. A heated orgasm pumps through your every artery just like Ezra’s fingers are pumping in and out of your cunt, his tongue keeping a delicious pace. After your body is done convulsing with pleasure, he moves up it and stops in front of your face.

“Open.”

You are all too familiar with this command and obey. Ezra spits a combination of your cum and his saliva into your mouth. He presses a hand to the underside of your jaw and you close your mouth.

“Swallow.”

You do as he says while he keeps his hand against your neck, feeling his love concoction make its way down your throat. He groans and gives you a quick kiss before asking, “Color?” You smile and bring your hands up to scratch at his scruff, “Green. You?”

“Green.”

Pulling your body tight against his, he hauls the two of you to the middle of the bed. He sits up and back atop your hips, pulls your hands closer to him and begins to untie your wrists. Your eyes can’t help but fixate on his hard dick, standing erect in front of you, as he speaks, “Now Goose, once you’re untied I want you to get on all fours for me,” he notices your distraction, “and if you try to pull any shenanigans, there will be consequences.” You shift your gaze up to his eyes and you swear that there’s a deep sparkle in them that is daring you, begging you, to disobey him. He liked to punish you as much as you liked to be punished by him. So, once untied, you throw him a curveball and take his orders, flipping over and propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You look over your shoulder at him to see that his face is mangled in baffled confusion, making you laugh, “What?”

He mounts your ass and teases your entrance with his cock, “If you had attempted to grab what your eyes were drooling over, I would’ve spanked you.”

“But I didn’t.”

He leans over your back and places his hands on either side of yours, “I wanted to spank you.”

“I know. But I’m not a naughty girl.”

He raises his eyebrows and chuffs out disbelief, “Maybe if you continue to tell yourself that delusion, you can convince yourself that it’s true. But there’s no fooling me. I know my girl is infatuated with misbehaving in order to spite me,” he stuffs his cock inside your pussy, “Isn't that true?” He lifts his left hand to wrap his fingers around the arched column of your throat, forcing you to look up at him.

You dismantle his lie, “I don’t do it to spite you, I do it to delight you.”

He pulls his hips away from yours in order to prepare for a thrust and hums, “That’s one reason why I love you, Goose. You see right through me.”

The two of you groan in unison as he fucks forward and bottoms out inside you. As he establishes a steady pace, your quivering fingers find purchase on his wrist. Even though you had slept together a countless number of times in the past two months, his girthy penetration still overwhelmed you at first, and you benefitted from at least a few seconds of adjusting. He knew this and was why he untied you; his brutal rhythm coupled with the binding of the tie would be too much for you without a little warming up. While he’s stretching you out, he murmurs encouragements into your hair, “That’s it, just like that... You’re taking my cock so well... Good girl.”

After your muscles relax, he asks, “Color?”

“Couldn’t be greener. You?”

He grins at your response, “Green.”

He gives your cheek a kiss before proposing his next instruction, “Why don’t you be a good girl and lay down and put your arms behind your back?”

He pauses his thrusts as you lean forward and press your cheek against the sheets. You turn to ask him just how he wants you to move, and he reads your mind, “Touch the pits of your elbows.” You twist your forearms behind your back until they are pressed against each other and the tips of one hand’s fingers graze the opposite side’s elbow. He snakes the silky tie in between your spine and wrists, the fabric gliding easily over your sweaty skin. He ties your wrists together again, this time much looser than before. He color checks you when he finishes the knot. You wiggle your arms, the amount of resistance being just right, “Green.” He hums in enjoyment and runs his fingertips down the backs of your arms, sending a pleasant shudder through you.

Lining himself up, he places a steadying right hand on your lower back. The contrast of the cool metal of his prosthetic limb to the fire that barrels through you once he pushes himself back into your hole is divine. Both textures of his hands slip against your skin as they try to find a solid grip on your hips in order to allow him to begin pounding into you. Your whimpering spurs him on, and once he’s able to to lock you into place you both swear under your breath in anticipation. As he embarks on his ferocious rhythm, an orgasm takes you by surprise.

Well, not really by surprise, because Ezra has proven time and time again that he can coax you to cum at a moment’s notice.

Out of courteous instinct, you bury your face into the bed to muffle your cries of ecstasy. Ezra turns your face to the side and tuts, “Uh-uh, Goose, I need to hear you this time, remember?”

You can barely him him, let alone understand him, while an astronomical burst of white oxytocin smothers your poor body. Unable to gain control of your composure to stop yourself, you indulge Ezra and let your screams fill the bedroom. The numbness of your mind fades away, effects of your orgasm bringing feeling back to you: the hot tears that spot your bottom lashline, the sweet soreness that the tensing of your muscles left you, the sweat that gathers in the line of your spine, the aroused slick that coats your inner thighs.

You pant as Ezra unties you, “Good girl. Flip over and face me,” and he tenderly places your forearms to your sides.

You’re exhausted. You can most definitely take more of his loving, but you need him to do the work, “I can’t.”

He rolls you over onto your back, his muscular arms giving you the comfort you need to go on. A frantic, worried expression takes over his face, “You okay? Still green? I didn’t push you too far, did I? Was the tie too tight? Did I-”

You shut him up with a kiss. You reassure him, “Yes, still green. Just fucking tired.”

You both laugh, and he asks, “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head no, “I’m not sure if the neighbors heard all of that scream. I think they need another one.”

Your dirty talk contorts his mouth into a grin of sly allure as he gets up off the bed, “I concur.” He opens a drawer of the nightstand and takes out another necktie, this one made of black wool. He gets back on the bed and says, “Let’s give them a musical to remember.”

You snicker as he pushes both of you farther up the bed, giving you more room to mess about in. He places the second tie next to the blue one and a hand on each of your ankles, “What this next position requires in flexibility it will pay for infinitely in pleasure for you and I both, okay, Goose?”

Your wariness is excited, “Okay?”

He pulls your legs together and picks up the blue tie. He wraps the fabric around both ankles, beginning to tie them together, but pauses and interjects, meeting your eyes, “You’re okay with me tying you here, right?”

You smile at his concern and mock, “Ezra, you could tie me any way you’d like and I’ll be more than happy.”

His nose crinkles in satisfaction and he resumes tying you up. After he’s done, he pushes your thighs to your chest, bending your knees so your feet are in the air. You can’t stop the laughter that erupts from you, “Ez, what in the Bakhroma System are you scheming?”

He gives you a wickedly teasing laugh back, “A fun time, Goose.”

He momentarily cups your face with his left hand, “If at any point it gets too much, for whatever reason, just say the word and I’ll stop everything.”

You take his hand and kiss his palm, “Okay.”

He smiles, boops your nose with his thumb and pulls your arms so that they rest in the pit of your upside down knees. He picks up the black tie and does a different knot on your arms than he had done previously. He puts the binding on them higher up, which makes you hold your legs up, keeping your cunt on display for him. The wool of the tie scratches where the silk had soothed you, but you savor the friction. Ezra wastes no time in entering you again, plunging his cock deep into your fluttering walls. You brace your forehead against your shins, panting wildly. With every thrust, he hits something deep and sensitive in you, but you know you could make the experience more intense for the both of you.

“Ez?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you look at me?” He angles himself so he can look around your legs and meet your eyes. As you are projected into the depths of his eyes, engulfed by the lust-blown ink of his pupils, enhanced by the dark coffee that surrounds them, an “I love you” slips out of your lips.

He compresses your body further by leaning down and capturing your mouth, “I love you too.”

When he pulls back and his hands find the backs of your thighs, he asks for a color check. You answer green, giving him permission to ravage you. He does just that, putting every ounce of his might behind his thrusts, eliciting growls of the same magnitude from you both. The gradual construction of an orgasm starts to warm your body, your moans getting louder and louder with each passing second. In an effort to put it off, you bite down hard on your lip. Ezra notices, running a thumb across your lipline, “Goose, please, allow me to be privy to your every stuttered breath.”

“Every gasp of delighted surprise.”

“Every involuntary whimper.”

“Every lustful yelp.”

“Every plea for me to keep going.”

“Every unhinged beg.”

“Every feral scream that only I can rouse out of those magnificent lungs. Indulge my deranged wish and let me hear it all, Goose.”

His words whisk you onto an expressive whirlwind of slow-building passion. You close your eyes and watch as your orgasm transforms from a cozy snuggle to a captivating explosion; behind your eyelids, amorous red transitions to a lustful magenta. It lightens to a flirtatious and giggly bubblegum, intensifying to a vibrating, barely-there pink. Then, all at once, buckets of slumberous evergreen, pure Ezra energy, submerge you into your release. Any bit of any other color is eradicated as he pours his soul onto yours. Descending from your chameleonic trance, you open your eyes to meet his. He can see that he has torn you apart in a most satiating way, which catapults him to his peak. He pulls out of you and pumps his cum onto the backside of your thighs, his heart collapsing with joy. He smears his stickiness across both of your hamstrings and then quickly gets to work to release you from his necktie binds. The bind that he has made of your heart to his, though, is infinitely knotted, forever unbreakable.

Your limbs untangle themselves and fall to the bed, every cell in your body pooped from the session. He asks for a final time, “Color?”

You sigh, “Green. You?”

He smiles, “Green.”

He brushes the now cum-stained ties to the side and pats your stomach, stamping a handprint of his seed, “I’ll be right back, Goose.” You nod once and he gets up and exits the room, leaving the door ajar.

You flip onto your stomach, your muscles yearning for a change of position after getting pummeled into the mattress. You bend your arms to lay in front of you, elbows sighing in relief for being contracted instead of stretched. You close your eyes and rest your head on his pillow for what seems like a millisecond, but when you open them back up Ezra has returned with two glasses of water, a washcloth and a juice box.

He folds the cloth into a triangle, dips a corner into a glass and then brings it behind you. The icy water feels good on your overheated skin as he wipes away his cum before it has the chance to dry. Once he cleans you off, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to your depleted frame. He sets the cloth down and picks up the other glass of water, “Drink this, sweetheart.” You prop yourself up on your forearms and gulp some much needed fluids down as Ezra holds the glass steady against your mouth. You hold up a weak hand when you’ve had your fill and he finishes off the drink. You never thought you would find sharing a drink like this with someone stomachable, let alone wildly attractive. But Ezra had changed you; you wanted to exchange cells, germs, bodily fluids with him, no matter how nasty it sounded when put into words.

Ezra trades the glass for the juice box and pops the straw into the opening, holding it up to your lips, “Drink some.” You curiously eye the juice box: apple flavored, the carton decorated in bright and childish cartoons. You tease him, “You know, when I said I might have a daddy kink, this is not what I meant.”

You both laugh, and he pokes after a moment, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

As you take the straw into your mouth and drink, he places a hand on the back of your head and pets your hair, “That’s it, babygirl, do as Daddy says.” An air of laughter blows through your nose and you choke on the liquid as Ezra cackles. You drop the straw and cough, “Stop!”

He continues to laugh at you while you whine, “Why do I have to drink this anyways, can’t I just have water?”

He calms himself down and shakes his head, “No, I want to replenish your blood sugar. Otherwise you might feel faint, and not in a good way.” He shoots you a wink and you take another sip of the juice.

When you’re done, he puts the half-empty box back on the nightstand and lays on top of you. You joke, “You’re crushing me and you told me I have to pee right after.”

Since sleeping together, Ezra had realized how little knowledge of aftercare you had. He had advised you to go to the bathroom as soon as possible after the deed is done in order to avoid urinary tract infections, among other pains. He nuzzles into your shoulder and protests, “In a minute.”

Taking into account the history of his comment and your increasingly heavy eyelids, you rebut, “You know that never happens.” More often than not, when Ezra trapped you in a cage of cuddles directly afterward like this, the two of you would fall asleep and you would skip the trip to the bathroom. He grunts and moves his weight off of you, “Fine, but I’ll only let you go if I can carry you in there.” You barely have time to begin laughing before he’s swooping you up into his arms.

After you both use your respective time in the bathroom, you and Ezra dress in matching pajamas and climb into bed. Coddling you into his broad chest, his fingers dance on the back of your neck and your lower back. You turn your head up to face him and when he returns your gaze you reference the whole night, “Thank you.”

A smile crinkles his tired eyes, “The pleasure was all mine, Goose. Thank you for taking it all so well. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Only if you will too.”

“Sure thing, my love.”

He gives you a kiss before you retreat back into the sanctuary of his embrace. Right as you’re drifting off to sleep, he adds, “I would like to ravage you one more time, in the morning.”

Your smirk pulls at the fabric of his shirt, “Okay. But no daddy kink. We have to save some things to explore when we come back.”

He hums, pressing his cheek into the top of your head before the two of you succumb to the temptation of sleep, “As you wish.”

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