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#hard not to think about those two when I hear the song
mikachacha · 1 day
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GAWA KA ONE SHOT LOSE MY BREATH TITLE
LOVE FIRST SIGHT Yung scene
LOSE MY BREATH (BADA LEE X IDOL!READER)
Synopsis: She didn't believe in love at first sight, let alone falling in love with the same gender then she met you.
Warnings: I don't think there's any??? If you're triggered by gl then beware i guess???
A/N: @loudcyclesuit ok na tayo beh? 😭🫶
Bada never really believed in love at first sight, more importantly falling in love with the same sex. Yeah she does have some masculine quality yet she identifies herself as straight. She thought she'd live like that for the rest of her life until she met you.
She could swear that she stopped breathing, her heart pounding so fast inside her ribcage like it wanted to get out and her mind going haywire as she watched you practice in an empty room in the studio. She didn't know what attracted her to you. Was it your face? Your body? How cute you looked in those baggy sweatpants and the oversized shirt you're wearing or the way you're singing along to the song like no one can hear you. Whatever the reason is, Bada is sure that she just experienced what they call love at first sight.
"Uhh.. Can I join?" Bada awkwardly asked when you were done. She couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked when your eyes widened after realizing that Bada has been watching you do some crazy things and the way your cheeks turned red from embarrassment made Bada wanted to just pick you up and bring you home.
"Sure???" you replied, you could swear that you're gonna pass away from embarrassment right now. You idolize Bada, and have begged your superiors before but it was to no avail. And now Bada has asked you if she could dance with you? Yeah, you can die happy right after this encounter.
Bada thought before that you're this cutesy idol with a matching cute dance style but she's pleasantly surprised to find out that you could actually do more sensual styles as you both danced to Hwasa's Chili. Bada couldn't help but be confused with her own feelings. She knows she's straight but whenever she looks at you, she can't help but feel attracted to you. It's like a magnet pulling her closer, or you're some kind of drug that she can't seem to get enough of.
After that first encounter, Bada couldn't stop thinking about you. From joining you in your little practices, you joining her classes, going out for coffee together and texting each other until late into the night. Yup, she's falling so hard for you at an alarming rate. She tried to stop herself, she tried to rationalize things in her head but whenever she sees your little texts, or your smile, all those thoughts go right out the window and she finds herself craving more and more of you.
"Can we meet right after your event?" Bada called you one day asking to meet up after you told her you're having a fan meet event. Your company thought it was a good idea to hold some fan meets since you're going to release a new album soon and to bury the issue of you being linked to an actor. You wanted to clear the issue yourself so badly, tell them that you're not dating the actor because you're not into men, no thank you. May they stay as far away from you as possible because the only one that you want is a certain tall dancer who asked you to meet her after your event.
"Yeah sure. Everything okay?" you asked, now concerned. Usually Bada would ask to hang out maybe two days after your events but this time it seemed really urgent and she hasn't been acting herself ever since the issue broke out. You didn't want to assume things but a glimmer of hope sparked in your chest that maybe, just maybe, Bada likes you despite her saying that she's straight. Maybe you manifested your delulu dreams to become true.
"I just need to talk with you about something, really. But don't worry, everything is okay! Good luck with your fan meet, sorry that I couldn't attend. I got some work to do. But I'll definitely see you later." Bada says and you can't help but smile. She's really sweet and supportive towards you, not that you mind. You absolutely love it, it makes you feel special receiving such attention from Bada.
"See you later, Bada." you said and hung up. Your day went on as planned, you met fans and spent time with them but your mind kept wandering to the thing Bada wanted to talk about. What could it be? Hopefully it's not something way too serious.
Meanwhile, Bada is freaking out. She has thought about it again and again and again. She came to accept that fact that first, she's not as straight as she thought she was and second, she's madly in love with you. Though she was content with whatever kind of thing is going on between you and her, the issue with you being linked to an actor made her anxious. Were you just being friendly with her? Did those sweet messages and conversations mean nothing? Those loving looks and lingering touches, were those just her imagination? She felt like she was going insane so she asked to meet up with you after your event.
It seems like time has stopped, everything and everyone else didn't matter when you walked in the café, wearing plain clothes and the cap she gave to you. It always feels like her heart would skip a beat whenever she sees you. That smile of yours would be the end of her.
"Hi! I didn't make you wait too long, did I?" you asked as you sat across from Bada. Your smile widened when you saw that she already ordered your favorite drink and pastry. She really knows what you like and it made you feel all giddy inside.
"No, not at all. You good? You're not too tired aren't you?" Bada asks and you shake your head, smiling at her.
"Me? Too tired? Honey, I always have reserved energy for you." you playfully winked at her and you could see a blush on her cheeks that she tried so hard to hide.
"You and your sweet words.. By the way, how's the issue with the actor? Are you guys really together?" Bada asked and you almost choked on your drink. You playfully glared at her and pouts a bit. Though Bada just wanted to confirm before she confessed her feelings to you. At least it'll hurt less if you say you can't reciprocate your feelings when you're single rather than being rejected because you're dating someone.
"What? No! Dear goodness, no. I'd rather dress as a teletubby than date him or a guy." you blurted out and Bada lets out a sigh of relief before reaching out to hold your hand and looking at you with sincerity. You could feel your heart beating fast. Is this it? Will your daydreams become reality?
"Good.. Because Y/N, I really like you. I know I said I'm straight but I can't help what I feel when I'm around you. As cheesy as it sounds, I could swear I fell in love with you the first time I saw you dancing in that empty practice room in the studio." Bada confessed and you just sat there, shocked and not saying anything at first as the information is sinking in your brain.
"Bada.. About time you confessed! I swear to everything that's holy, I would've tricked you into dating me. I don't know if I should wear a giant banner on my head to notice that I like girls??? And I like you a lot??? Oh my god.." your words just made Bada laugh and she got up from her seat to pull you in for a hug, happy that you feel the same way as her.
"I have lots of questions but I'll ask them later. For now, I just want to hug you and love you.." Bada murmurs against your shoulder. Both your hearts are happy knowing that it's not just a delulu dream but it's now both your reality.
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mar3ggiata · 1 day
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professional help, c9. Reign of Terror.
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simon riley x original character.
trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.
song to listen to when reading this: Cool about it, boygenious
abstract: listen, I don't even want to hear it. yes, it's Simon. I told you already, I'm gathering intel during this part. don't think too hard about it, this doesn't mean anything. and yes, I think she was telling the truth. I follow my instincts and they only failed me once or twice…
When the routine settled back in, she felt like the Al-Jareena mission was a thing of the past. A week had gone by, she had no news about the mission. Or Arash. She was snapping her fingers following the rhythm of the music. 'And one, two, balancé!' She watched as the girls rehearsed in front of her, moving in pairs, one from each side of the room. They had been going on and on for an hour, the poor girls were exhausted. 'Okay, from here, piquè', she had been demonstrating everything, trying to remember her notes and the changes she had to make to the original choreography. Her blue leotard was sticking on her skin, she could feel sweat dripping down her back and in between her breasts. Her bun was starting to come untied, she kept fixing some shorter hair behind her ears. 'I don't want to see those stiff hands Jenny, please', she resumed, 'piquè, finish on your right leg. Sam and Gemma, you're going to go stage left with two saut de basque'. She stopped talking to demonstrate the jump, which was quite difficult, she had to admit. 'You finish on relevè, arms in fifth position, then repeat to the other side'. She was too old for all this activity, (Jude is delusional, she's 26). She had to catch her breath without letting the girls know she was getting tired. 'Then, Kyla, Cassie and Luna, same thing to the right as soon as the first two finish jumping, same thing to the left with group three.' She instructed and approached the mirrors in the front of the room. 'Let's see it, please'.
She packed her bag while the girls said bye to her. God, did she love being called 'Miss Alba'. She put on sweats, lifting them up over her legs without bothering to remove the pink tights she hated so much. She preferred black ones, they concealed stretch marks, cellulite… See, if the school was hers, she would let her ballerinas pick the colour they wanted. She could see during the lessons some of them were self conscious about their bodies, like she had been for years when she was younger. The way they looked at each other in the mirrors, like they were comparing themselves to the others. Some were thinner, some had bigger bums, bigger breasts, some had more muscle, some you could see their whole ribcage sticking out. School policy, black leotard and pink thighs. They were too young. But still, even Alba herself had some serious issues with her figure, demonstrating in front of everyone was challenging and took a tool on her mental health sometimes. She knew she was fit, don't get me wrong, she had worked fucking hard for years to get to where she was. Strong, lean quads, a good set of abs. She had followed every diet in the world, she learned so much about what foods not to eat, how to get the perfect body… How to be slim and toned and have fat in the right places. She gained back weight after the 'bad year' when she didn't work and decided she was not gonna feed herself anymore. Cooking was just too much back then, she spent hours going on walks with headphones in, on the verge of passing out. She was better now, she only had those thoughts every now and then. They were under control, she was healthy. Let me tell you, her legs, arms, her hips, a fucking work of art. Still, being watched by those young girls who probably spent way too much worrying about their weight and having to be the representation of perfection was daunting. Keep your abs thigh, your foot straight, your hips aligned. Hide how painful it is, hide the fact your calf is cramping and you're losing balance. A game of pretend.
When she got to work the next day, she was surprised to see a special someone waiting for her beside her door. No fucking way. She stopped in her tracks when he saw him, bag hanging from her shoulder, boots clicking on the floor. What are you doing here, how do you know this is my office? Did you ask around? Are you following me? She approached him and he took a step towards her. He had a blue jacket on, no skull mask today, simple black one. She could finally see his hair colour, dirty blonde. He needed a trim. 'Can I help you?' she said. Well well well. 'Not really' he replied, crossing his arms against his chest. He was tall, he was scarily tall. She had to tilt her head to look at him. That position made his arms look even bigger. She no problem admitting how good looking he was. 'Am I in trouble?' she asked tilting her head to the side. His mask moved slightly, but his eyes didn't exactly show a particular emotion. Was he smiling or about to punch her, she didn't know. She had always loved risks. 'You're not' he answered. He wasn't in the mood for jokes maybe. Noted.
She nodded and took a step towards the office door unlocking it and getting in, supposing he would follow. Being in there made her feel slightly more secure. It was a place where she normally had some authority. Not with him she didn't. He closed the door behind him as she put her bag on the desk. The office had two big windows which let in few shy rays of sunshine. She had a couch with a few pillows for the patients and a chair for her. She looked at him and indicated the couch, as to say 'sit'. He really didn't want to. He felt like a patient. He went to therapy before, he just didn't want to be her patient. He stood there in the middle of the room watching Jude take off her coat and hang it on the chair. She wore jeans today. Tight jeans and a jumper. He could see her boots clearer now, they were shiny and the tip of the shoe was round. They looked from the 80's. She had cream coloured socks. She looked younger dressed like that. She looked less professional and more… a civilian, a normal 23 year old girl. He had settled that was her age. Her hair loose, her casual outfit, she looked ready for a walk in the park. He wondered if she walked in the park with her dog. She looked like she had a normal job, like waitressing or maybe she was a painter or a student. She looked like she could go to the movies dressed like that, or play bowling. She looked like she was about to sit down, take her shoes off, get comfortable and tell him about her day, talk about nothing for hours without ever boring him.
She finally spoke, sitting down in her leather chair. 'Why are you here?' she asked, her hands on her thighs. 'You can sit if you want', she added. He still wouldn't move. 'I wanted to apologise for asking about last year, I realised it might be a sensitive topic'. His voice was low and soothing, his British accent heavy on every word. She didn't expect that. That was very considerate of him, the 6 foot soldier standing in the middle of her office like the representation of death that comes knocking at your door. What a strange thing to say man, did you hear stories? Did you hear your friends say I faked it? Cause I know they're saying it. 'Thanks', she said softly, a tone she had never used with him. She tried not to get triggered by his words, not to let her mind wonder back to the event he was referring to. She had to fight hard to not let her brain spiral, a fight against herself. She always seemed to lose. 'It's just something really bad, I don't like to think about it more than I already do', she explained. His eyes were fixated on her like she was a wild animal about to go extinct. He nodded and silence filled the room.
'How did the mission go?' She asked even if she already knew the answer. She was just making conversation. He didn't want to stay too much. He thought about seeing her, he thought about talking to her again and now that she was there, now that he purposely went to her office to talk, he wanted to run. 'Good. Good, yeah, thanks to you, actually'. He finally sat down. That was what patients saw then. The desk behind her, the windows and her, on the leather chair. He tried to imagine her during sessions. Her back straight, compassionate eyes, maybe a notebook on her lap. The window on her right illuminated only half of her face. Making her half an angel. She wasn't commenting on his answer, she squinted her eyes. 'Are you saying I was right and you were wrong?' she asked. Cheeky. She wasn't smiling, cause she knew she was right all along. 'I'm saying you got lucky.' She made him weak, his mouth was dry. 'So what are you gonna do next? I might get lucky again', she said. Could he tell her? She already knew so much. He decided he could share, vague answers only. 'We find where they took Khorram, we'll probably find Arash as well. We leave in a week.' She kept biting her lower lip, not in a provocative way. She was thinking. 'What did he do exactly? He's the one with that snake flag right?' she asked. She was informed. She had seen the flag she was referring to on the news and on social media. It was a green flag with a snake print, with red eyes. A symbol. 'The viper, yes. We've been following him for some time. Human trafficking, mainly.' Her expression was of disgust. 'He formed an army, he controls the main cities, he lets people starve, public executions…' he decided to stop there. She nodded, she got the gist. 'Makes sense…' she murmured. 'Reign of Terror kinda thing.' There was silence again between them.
'Reign…' he felt bad that he didn't know what she was talking about. He didn't have a degree. Jude had probably 4 or 5. But no, he wasn't that cultured. It made him feel small. Guns and war, he was the best. It was the second time he didn't know what she was talking about, she said something about a Little King or some shit. (It was the Little Price, the book). 'French Revolution, doesn't matter', she cut him off. Don't make me feel stupid Jude. He got up saying he better be going, she did too, she said 'of course'. She offered him her hand to shake. You're Italian, he decided. The hand gestures, the physical touch. Yes, to Simon shaking your hand twice was considered physical touch. She wasn't British, she was too polite and beautiful for it. How do you speak English so well then. What made you come here? What's your real name something Italian like Julia or Sarah? He reached for her hand, glad he was wearing gloves this time so he couldn't feel her skin. Less of her to think about. She looked at him, then looked down to their hands, still holding it. Her soft, caramel skin, with those dainty black nails against his skeleton printed gloves. She turned his hand so she could see the skeleton print and smiled, with her head tilted down. A smirk. She had dimples. Her eyelashes were almost touching her eyebrows. He let go of her hand and turned around, regretting he didn't wear his other mask. Would have hidden the fact that he was blushing.
notes: I was listening to 'cool about it' by boygenius when writing this. also, writing ballet is fucking hard… how do I describe the pain. also also, Jude's shoes are those chunky coquette Mary Jane shoes that you wear with socks.
notes: Julia and Sarah are not correct spellings of Italian names, more on the American side. makes sense Simon doesn't know how to spell the Italian versions. (they are Giulia and Sara). How are you guys doing, you all good? You guessed it I'm still taking my exams and working and being clinically insane and unbelievably tired.
love, mare.
taglist:
@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess
@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut
@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight
@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me
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legendofmorons · 20 hours
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You're drunk and tell them you have a boyfriend (it's them) Part 2
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Pairing: chain x reader
Rating: T
Summary: You've had too much to drink at a party in their hyrule, and your boyfriend finds you. He tries to bring you back to the inn but you tell him you have a boyfriend (it's him).
Warnings: previous drinking, drunk! Reader, reader is assumed to be of legal drinking age
Other: Reader is of legal drinking age in this (if you are going to drink, please be safe and drink water too)
This part has: Time, sky, and warriors
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Time
Time blames Malon for this
She'd happily dragged you and the boys out to a tavern for a "fun night"
You'd left a grumpy Wind with Talon and his cuccoos.
Fortunately, Time hears your shouting from where he's grabbing water.
When he turns around you have decided to get up on the table
Dear reader, you're trying really hard to teach Malon tik tok dances while drunk and on a small table.
You can imagine there's a lot of eyes on you
Malon is delighted though.
Twilight is trying to catch Time's eyes and motion him over.
Time just sighs, but he brings the water over to where you are.
"Hello, dear." Time says as he stops beside the table.
"I have a name. And a boyfriend." You say, turning to look at him.
"I know, (Y/n). But you should come down. I have some water for you, love."
"I just told you I have a boyfriend. Please leave me alone."
Twilight looks like he's trying not to laugh.
Malon has no such compulsion and is laughing. Her amused giggles are anything but helpful.
Time just takes a slow breath. Obviously you have had way too much. Though he could have guessed that from when you got up on the table.
"(Y/n)." Twilight says slowly, "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay." You say, turning to Twilight. "Where's Time?"
"He's right there, (y/n)." Twilight motions towards the old man.
You squint, but decide that man is in fact your lover. "Link!"
Time smiles, a little too amused, "Hello, dearest."
"There was this guy that was flirting with me. Did you see him?"
Time has to bite back a laugh. "Yes dearest, he just left."
"Yay!!! Can we go lay down? The room is spinning all fast like." You explain, stepping confidently off the table.
You fall directly into Time's chest and arms. He saw it coming so he catches you quickly.
"We can. I'll carry you, beloved."
"Yay!!!"
Time moves 6 he's got you held princess style.
He bids farewell to those you were with and carries you to the inn. He's careful with you, making sure you're comfortable.
He bathes you himself, mostly because you're too uncoordinated to be trusted
But he's gentle with you
When he tucks you in you pass out real fast and he just chuckles.
Cute
He also wants to find out what you drank so he knows what to be careful about he doesn't want you to feel gross
Sky
Sky had stepped away long enough to go to the bathroom
That's it
And he comes back to find you trying to have a dance off with Pippit and Groose.
Unfortunately, you have resorted to a VERY drunk macararna , song, and all.
Oh-
And now you're doing the chicken dance
Huh
Pippit is also drunk, and is trying his best to beat you. He has resorted to what looks to be a very painful attempt at the worm.
Shit
"Hey dove," Sky says as he comes up beside you, "Let's go to bed, mh?"
You turn your eyes to him and slur, "No, I have a boyfriend go 'way."
Groose just looks between you and Sky. He looks concerned.
"(Y/n), it's me, Sky." He tries to soothe you.
"Oh- sky! Hi baby!" You're cooing
You forget about the dance off and throw yourself into him. Your arms go around his neck as you smile up at him.
"Hey, (Y/n)."
He smiles at you softly, glad to see you happy.
"Help me beat these two!!!! It's a battle of dance!" You ask Sky.
"I was actually thinking we could head back? I'm feeling a little off." Sky says.
And sure, he feels fine but he knows ypu won't object to helping him.
He DOES feel a bit bad for the white lie though.
"Oh... okay! Lemme just uh- lemme just win this real fast!"
"You already won." Groose says, eager to end this odd experience.
"Oh! Hell yeah I won!" You giggle, looking truly excited
"Nooooo!" Pipit groans.
You just smile, taking Sky's hand in your own.
Sky leads you out of the building and to his room at the knights academy. He has you bathe before crashing.
You're gushing to him the whole time about how wonderful he is.
Sky is relieved when you wake up the next morning, mostly coherent if a little hungover.
Warriors
Warriors dosen’t know what happened. He left you with Time and his Impa.
He left to go get you water, like you asked!
He comes back to find you trying to connect Time and Impa both that you are in fact, a wolf hybrid.
What the fuck?
"(Y/n), darling, what are you doing?"
"I'm a fucking wolf!" You declare loudly, thinking back to the playground games you uses to enjoy.
"Oh my Hylia." Impa groans, "Link get your partner. "
"You're not a wolf, beloved." Warriors says.
"Excuse me,I have a boyfriend." You say quickly, turning to give Warriors a look of displeasure.
"(Y/n)?" He asks.
"Please leave me alone."
"(Y/n)." Time says with a snort, "Come on.
"(Y/n), it's me, Warriors."
You squint, trying to figure out if that is in fact Wars.
"Oh yeah? What's my favorite color then?" You challenge.
Warriors tells you your favorite color and you beam.
"Wars!" You declare as you throw yourself at him.
He catches you with a grunt, wrapping his arms around you. "Hey."
"Hi!"
"How much have you had to drink, darling?"
"Oh... uh- some?"
"I can tell."
You just laugh.
Warriors decides he needs to get you home.
Like- now probably.
"Wanna go to bed?"
"Am I that irresistible?" You giggle.
"Oh dear." Warriors frowns. "Dearest your very drunk."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"Let's get you showered and in bed." Warriors says.
"Okay!"
So, he takes you to the inn and gets you showered and tucked into bed. His entire body relaxes when you snuggle into the bed.
"Night Link!"
"Good night, dearest."
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Bo Burnham’s song “Shit” is so Deadpool and Spiderman coded
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zarla-s · 6 months
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We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...
It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.
Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.
I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.
How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.
I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.
I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D
(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)
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ktgoodmorning · 9 days
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Superstar
Alexia Putellas x reader
Inspired by the song superstar by MARINA. Alexia misses you after a rough away game when you aren't there to comfort her.
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Masterlist
Before I met you, I pushed them all away Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay What I like about you is you know who you are What you like about me is I know what I'm not
You had never really cared much about dating before. It’s not that you were opposed to having a partner that you could share your life with, it just always seemed like more of an inconvenience for you. The idea of someone trying to constantly tag along with you and share everything made you cringe, causing you to never intentionally pursue a romantic relationship. 
Those that knew you liked to say it was because you had been raised “fiercely independent”, while your closest friends liked to say you were just scared and avoiding being hurt. In reality, it was likely a combination of both, and no matter what the reason was, you didn't really care. At times when someone came along, you would push them away before it could get too serious, usually after becoming annoyed with some minute little habit they had. So you never really imagined getting into a serious relationship before. 
Not before Alexia. 
Alexia changed everything for you. The way that she didn’t try to cling onto you so hard is exactly what drew you together. Both of you had similar feelings when it came to dating and it worked perfectly. You gave each other the space you needed while still fitting your lives together in the ways you wanted to. 
When you first started seeing each other, your friends had given you a lecture that you shouldn’t push her away, unknowing it was something that Alexia had been told by her own friends as well. The moment you shared your first kiss, you both knew that this relationship was something you’d be willing to fight for. As much as it scared you to commit to another person, it was even scarier to imagine a life without her.
.
It was after your second date that you received a text from her, shortly after dropping you off at home: “I should have kissed you.” It made you smile knowing that she was thinking the same thing you were. You both wanted it and yet you both chickened out, something that was extremely rare for either of you. 
She was all you could think about until your next date which came only a few days later, moving quicker than you were normally willing to. You had gotten lunch together before going on a walk along the beach, eventually sitting next to each other in the sand to look out at the ocean and get to know each other further. Alexia was known to be quieter around people she didn’t know well, especially when they weren’t footballers. In a way, she was so consumed with the sport that she felt like she didn't know how to talk to people who didn’t feel the same, but here she was, opening up to you more than ever before. Something about your conversation made it feel so easy and effortless in a way neither of you were used to. 
You sat talking for hours, migrating closer together as you did so. Eventually you leaned into her slightly, still too scared to make eye contact, just giggling and talking while you watched the waves crash against the shore. Some of your conversation was more serious, talking about your upbringings, but just as easily, the two of you would turn to quickly joking around and poking fun at each other. It was the perfect mix of deeper conversations while still having fun. 
 When the conversation came to a lul, you could feel her eyes on you, making you turn to finally meet them. Nerves were radiating from her, almost making you feel them yourself. She was terrified of messing it up with you and you were equally as terrified, both sharing glances down at each other’s lips but too scared to actually move any further. 
“Can I kiss you?” she breathed out, hardly audible, her eyes glued to your lips. 
“Please.” That was all she needed to hear, immediately using one hand to hold the back of your neck and pull you into her.
The kiss was perfect, somehow much better than any you’d had before, even though you knew it was just because of the girl in front of you and the way she had you feeling better than you ever had. It was the perfect mix of gentle yet still confident, moving slowly and with purpose against you. Alexia’s nerves seemingly disappeared the second that she finally made the move. 
And that was the moment both of you felt something change. Something about what you had together was different, the idea of pushing her away, unfathomable. Suddenly, you could understand all the people that got clingy with their significant other. The idea of sharing your life didn’t feel so bad, as long as it was with Alexia.
And I, I know that you never sleep Oh, so impossible to dream When you're far away from me Oh, I, I'm all you could ever need Oh, so impossible to breathe
From that moment on, your lives had quickly become intertwined, still independent in yourselves but able to let your guard down when you came home to her. It was a constant that brought both of you great comfort, knowing you’d always have the other to love and back you up no matter what. 
It was exactly this that Alexia came to rely on. Anytime she had a bad game, all she needed was to come home to you and settle into your arms. She rarely slept after games in general and that wasn’t something that changed easily, but at the very least, you were able to help her relax and get some much-needed rest.
 She was grateful that you never lectured her about her lack of sleep or somewhat insane mindset when it came to football. Most people in her life were quick to scold her about working herself too hard but you were just there to open your arms as soon as she realized she needed it. It’s not that you liked it, you knew it wasn’t good for her, but you understood it. You were often considered a workaholic yourself, something that made the two of you work well together. So when she was finally willing to admit she needed a break, you would always be there to take one with her.
Neither of you realized how much you’d come to rely on each other until you were forced to be apart. You both liked to pretend that you were okay on your own if you needed to be, but when times got tough, it became much more difficult. 
It was after an away game, one that you weren’t able to attend due to your job. The game hadn’t gone well, especially by your girlfriend’s standards. It had resulted in a draw for Barcelona that Alexia placed entirely on her shoulders. She had missed more shots than she should have, made too many mistakes, and should have been able to pull out the win. Of course nobody else had thought any of those things, but Alexia fully believed it. 
She was lucky enough to have gotten a single room, a perk of being captain she supposed, which was good considering how restless she was following the game. The more she tossed and turned, the more frustrated she got. It was normal for her to be worked up after a game so it shouldn't have been surprising that that was the case now, especially after such a rough game. 
All Alexia could think about was you and being in your arms, at home and safe, smelling your mix of perfume and body wash radiating off of you. It had only been a few days since she had seen you but the thought was all-consuming. She wanted nothing more than to lay with you, listening to you ramble quietly as you fell asleep, hardly making sense. 
The more she thought about it, the more she missed you. The frustration had grown to a level that almost brought tears to her eyes. She kicked off the blankets, flipped her pillow, and tossed around, unable to find any resolution. After trying all her usual things to help rid her of her post-game adrenaline, she knew exactly what she needed to do, no matter how much she tried to avoid it. Before either of you would be gone, you would always say, “call me if you need anything, or even if you don’t!” It always made Alexia roll her eyes, never actually doing it unless just out of boredom
Nothing terrified either of you more than the idea of “needing anything.” Your girlfriend wasn’t one to rely on someone else and the thought of it made her heart race. What if her call woke you up? Your sleep schedule was messed up enough she knew you’d likely be awake but she wasn’t sure she should risk it. She didn’t want to bother you. What if her neediness scared you away? 
At this point, her internal conflict and massive frustration had tears running down her face, something that only freaked her out further. Alexia rarely cried and yet here she was, alone in her hotel room, sobbing like a baby while she stared at your contact page pulled up on her phone. She spent a while with her thumb hovering over the call button before finally giving in and pressing it, filled with embarrassment over needing your comfort. 
I love the way we worked so hard Yeah, we've come so far Baby, look at me, you're my superstar When I'm afraid, when the world's gone dark Come and save my day, you're my superstar
The second you picked up and she heard your voice, she immediately relaxed.
“Ale? Are you okay?” Your voice was somewhat rough; she hadn’t woken you up although you hadn’t been far from sleep when your phone lit up with her face.
“Sí, estoy bien, sólo te extrañé.” you could hear the exhaustion in her voice and knew she was lying just because of the time she was calling you. If you really wanted to see how she was doing, you’d need to see her face as it was usually easy for you to read, especially when you knew she wouldn’t be willing to admit whatever was wrong.
“Why don’t you FaceTime me? I want to see you.” you pressed the button before she had time to object. Even though it was dark, you could tell she was struggling just from the blank look on her face. “Ale, what’s wrong?”
Your girlfriend went silent, refusing to make eye contact. 
“Talk to me, amor. You can tell me anything, remember? I won’t judge you, I just want to help you.”
“I don’t know, I didn’t mean to wake you up, it’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t say that. You didn’t even wake me up, I promise. I just want to know what’s going on with you.” When you were met with more silence, you took it upon yourself to try to fill in the gaps, knowing that if you were wrong about something she’d jump in to correct you.
 “Are you beating yourself up over the draw tonight?” Her lack of response gave you all the information you needed to know you were right, letting out a sigh over how critical she was of herself. 
“Ale, do you realize how good you are? You are so talented, more than anyone I know, but even you can’t expect to single-handedly win a game. Nobody was playing their best today, and you know that. If you had won, you would never say that you were the sole reason you won. So you can’t say you’re the sole reason you lost.” 
She gave you a small shrug, “I don’t know. I just feel like I could’ve done better.”
“Alexia Putellas, look at me. I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me, okay? Do you realize that you’re a good football player?”
You were met with more silence, her eyes darting away from yours once again.
“Alexia, you’re the same person who won all those awards. Just because it was before your ACL doesn’t mean it wasn't you. You’re still that same person, that same amazing, incredible, record-breaking footballer. And besides that, every one of your teammates looks up to you. I look up to you.” This got her attention. As soon as you said it, her eyes met yours. 
“Why would you look up to me, amor? You work so hard and are accomplishing so much and-.”
“Ale, do you hear yourself? That’s literally what you’re doing. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. The way everyone does, really.” Her eyebrows were scrunched together, almost confused by your words, forcing you to continue. “Like I said, you’re so insanely talented, Alexia. But that’s not even the reason everyone loves you, at least not the reason I do. I love the way you dedicate yourself to the things you love, the people you love. If you missed every shot you ever took, I’d still love you just as much, so would your family, so would everyone. It’s about so much more than just how you play. It’s about how you cheer me up when I’m pissed off about work stuff and the way you are constantly making me feel better about myself than I ever could on my own. You are a superstar in every way, and only a tiny part of that has anything to do with how you play.”
You never judge me for any of my fears Never turn your back, always keep my body near All of the days that we spend apart My love is a planet revolving your heart
When you looked up from your speech, you could see tear tracks running down her cheeks, trying her best to hold it together. “Ale, amor, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you I-”
“No, no, it’s okay.” she shook her head quickly, wiping her tears away. “I’m not upset, I promise. I don’t know what I’m feeling, if I’m being honest, but I’m not upset.” 
“See if you can tell me about it, even if it doesn’t all make sense, that’s okay. Just try.” 
You watched her take a deep breath in hopes of getting her thoughts together before speaking again. “I’m so tired. I know that. And I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m trying to think about right now. But these are happy tears I think. I just can’t believe how good you are to me and how lucky I am. All the things you said to me, just made me so grateful for you. And I normally don’t talk about stuff like this, you know that. But the way you always know what to say and don’t make me feel crazy. I just- I don’t even know. I think what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for sticking with me, even when I’m losing it.”
We'll stick together Make it through the storm You and I Whoever said we couldn't have it all?
Alexia finally gave you a soft smile as she caught her breath, much calmer now that she had gotten all her thoughts off her chest. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Ale, and you’re not losing it. I’ve missed you too and as much as that’s weird for us, I think that’s how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work.” you both chuckled lightly, knowing how new you both were to the feelings you shared. “But everything I said is true, I really mean it.”
“I appreciate it, amor. There’s no one else I’d rather navigate this stuff with. I feel like when I talk to you, you make it all make sense. Like we can figure out anything.”
“Well I don’t know about anything, but we can sure try. Although I think you sound like you’re falling asleep so maybe we’ll save the figuring out everything for tomorrow, okay?” 
Alexia gave you a nod while doing her best to conceal a yawn, much more tired than she realized now that she had calmed down. “I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight mi amor. I love you.”
“I love you, Alexia. Call me if you need anything else, or even if you don’t.” She rolled her eyes at the sentiment, just as she always did, but smiled at herself as she hung up, grateful that she had called, whether she was willing to admit she needed something or not.
Masterlist
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renku · 2 months
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Up and Under
TWICE Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader
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Sitting and staring nowhere in the middle of the park, holding a cup of coffee that went cold from that old vending machine nearby, and the freezing evening wind has no effect at all in your current state—high on adrenaline and it looks like it’d take an hour or two before it subsides in your system.
“This must remain just between us. Got it?”
Each word kept playing again and again in your head, like the same lyrics from the song five years ago that’s still not leaving your playlist. Not to mention how Chou Tzuyu—yes, the idol—whispered those words with her sexy yet cute voice along with a warm breath inducing goosebumps; from the back of your neck spreading down to your legs. You even started to question your reality. Did that really happen?
Everything that happened today was messed up, or to be exact, fucked up. But wait, how did you even get to this situation by the way?
It was about noon, and the usual routine at work is to take a break empty space upstairs before Inkigayo broadcast starts. Landing a job at a place like this isn’t something you thought of but there’s no much options on your hand, so here you are. The spot is usually silent since most are out to get their lunch. Lately, you prefer taking a nap up there since a bench is available. It’s crucial for you to have that time alone for yourself. One hour of freedom to collect your shit again is enough to get through to the rest of the shift. Work itself is already draining, but dealing with people is another.
The pace of your steps is increasing yet you still try not to make a sound. I should hurry before surviving another four hours of work, you thought. Getting closer to your so-called sanctuary, this is when things started to take a turn—a complete hundred and eighty turn.
It made you stop, and carefully listen again to make sure it’s not your head playing games at you.
“Yes— Hmm... Ah~”
You’re not definitely hearing things. It’s definitely a moan. A woman’s moan on top of that. She’s really into it; given how she lets out all those moans like no one will hear her and not giving a single damn.
Forget the nap, going back should be the immediate course action in this kind of situation. But, being a man and curiosity got the best of you.
“I shouldn’t be doing this, shit,” you whispered.
Taking extremely careful steps—almost tiptoeing, making that one, tempting peek. Lifted black skirt, fingerless-gloved right hand holding onto the handle for support, and probably her other hand doing the job. It’s quite difficult to recognize who she is since her loose, black hair covered the side of her face and a tent is already forming inside your pants. Each second that passes corresponds to the moans getting shorter and shorter, hinting that she’s close to that release.
“UGH! OH- YES, YES, OH FUCKKK!”
She threw head back, exposing the side of her face.
“Is that... Tzuyu?!” For a moment, you couldn’t move a muscle. Chou Tzuyu, who is known to be pure, kind, lovely, and innocent idol for years. Yet here she is, masturbating and made herself cum.
Your feet went cold stunned by what you just witnessed. Tzuyu then turned her head to where you are like she knew you were there all along, and not showing any sign of surprise at all when both of your eyes met. She's insanely fucking beautiful.
After fixing herself up and the mess she made, Tzuyu went right away to you. “This must remain just between us. Got it? Everything.” she whispered, then grabbed your hard member; fingers making random movements, playing with your already leaking rod making you jolt before adding, “Why don't you come here again next time? Same place, same time then maybe we can do some interesting things, don't you think?”
Does she even hear herself? How could she willingly say those words to someone she never knew her whole life. You can only nod to whatever she'll say, truth be told. The fact that a goddess like her is standing next to you is unreal.
“I got to go now, bye!” she said, winking and waving as she went on her way.
Back at the present—after reminiscing everything that happened all you could think of was, “I need to find a new job immediately.”
A/N: Hi. Ren (new name, can’t remember my old one) here. Plotless fic and not stuffed with much details to make it “smutty” enough, I just want to get the gist of writing again after not being able to make a stable progress after leaving the platform for about a year. So yeah, not much but I hope it will spark my enjoyment of writing again.
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atinysuh · 7 months
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ateez and their favorite sex positions + explained
yunho, jongho: reverse cowgirl - ok hear me out, imagine yunho guiding the movements of your ass with his huge hand as you bounce on his dick while you look back over your shoulders to watch his expressions. he thinks its so hot to watch you performing on top of him that you almost can see the sparkles on his eyes. he usually let you ride him like this when he knows you had a long ass day at work or college or both and you need to take the stress out of you, so he offers his dick for you to do whatever you want because he just wanna make you feel good. on the other side… jongho also LOVES this position since he can watch your curves. his favorite body part on you is your thighs and the tattoos on it so every time he has the chance to see them bouncing on his cock he’ll take it. he’ll just relax his head on his hands and bite his lips while enjoying his girl. and you also love his thick thighs so you two are even. phew… he’s so fucking hot.
yeosang, mingi: you on top - yeosang loves leaving love bites on your neck and squeezing your waist while you ride him. out of all the girls he has dated in his life you’re definitely the only one who knows how to ride him RIGHT. because let’s be honest, my man’s got a big dick and you can take 100% of him and that’s one of the numerous reasons he fell in love with you at the first place. you kinda got the sauce. he also loves to feel your sweet vanilla cherry scent, he thinks is very sexy, so be careful because sometimes he can get drunk of you! he just place his face in the crook of your neck as you ride him and closes his eyes and stays there guiding your hips, like yunho, but in this case by the waist. okay and mingi… well, mingi is something else. he completely loves sucking on your nipples when you’re on top of him, hands on your ass spanking every now and then to remind you he’s the only one in the world who can bottom you out like that. he kinda asserts some dominance without even noticing and you can’t help it but call out his name every time you go up and down his dick. also, has a huge size kink.
san: BACKSHOTS - 6 words. on the way by jhené aiko. this song is SO choi san coded, every time i hear that “booty clapping from the backshots while we watch porn on the laptop” verse san’s the first person that comes to my mind. we all know he loves a big thick curvy ass that he can spank whenever he pleases. also “inhale the smoke while you stroke inside it” makes me literally malfunction since my biggest guilty pleasure is san getting high and passing the blunt to you while he breaks your back. if i could dedicate one song to one man it would be on the way to san because oh my god i could spend hours talking about this topic but imma stop before i pass out.
seonghwa: face off - we all know seonghwa’s the romantic type… but also the freak type. he likes it when you two are seated at the end of the bed or on the couch or even on the kitchen chair and have you like this, on top of him, facing him. as i said, when you’re fucking in the kitchen, for example, he usually put his elbow on the table behind him and expect you to ride his dick but sometimes it can get a little bit hard for you to keep a steady pace in this position so he loses his patience and quickly switch positions. you’re now laying on the kitchen counter. we also know he’s a worshipper, so he’ll make you feel so loved in his arms even tho he’s fucking the soul out of you. well, love and affection is something you’ll always receive when it comes to having a relationship with seonghwa whether is fwb, a date, a one night stand or a marriage… but he’ll also fuck you HARD and when i say hard i MEAN IT because we’re talking about a fucking aries here and as an aries myself i know exactly what goes on on his mind when it comes to sex.
hongjoong: missionary - still talking about zodiac signs, for those who don’t know, hongjoong’s a scorpio and girl let me tell you about scorpios… ma’am they are another type of freak, like, they literally invented freak, to me they are sex gods. and even tho this is a common sex position doesn’t mean hongjoong will make it ordinary. he’s very possessive so he wants to make sure that you know you’re HIS and his only and he does that by pinning both of your wrists with one hand while he chokes your neck with the other. sex with him is always pleasurable, he’ll satisfy you 200% of the time, overwhelm you even. but you can’t never get enough of him. also, he likes to hear it when you say that your pussy is his for him to please and your body is his for him to touch and that you belong to him. his moto is saying that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you because he couldn’t stand the thought of somebody else touching your body. i love hongjoong so much.
wooyoung: spoon - OK… i see wooyoung fucking you in a spoon position and it can be any type, with your leg up, down, kissing your neck, grabbing your breasts, chocking you, biting your lobe teasing you, but as long as it is in a spoon position. ooooh he loves the way you bite your bottom lip and do that crying expression with your eyebrows when you tell him to slow down and he just gives you a sassy smirk and says nothing but starts fucking you ROUGHER. you can barely open your eyes to look at his hungry eyes looking back at you because it’s rolling with pleasure. all you can do is whine and not even when he cums he’ll stop, he likes overstimulating you AND him.
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inklessletter · 2 months
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The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.
Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.
Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.
It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.
Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.
So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.
And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.
It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.
He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.
He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.
Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.
The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.
Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.
He can't.
His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.
Lord knows it would be the first time.
The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.
He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.
The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."
It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.
"Yeah. I bet you do."
He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.
"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."
He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."
The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.
The question goes unspoken.
The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.
And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.
So for once in my life
let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Thinking about Rockstar!Eddie meeting you at an autograph signing and getting off to the thought of you after his show...
“Here ya go,” Eddie says, forcing a tired smile as he hands a freshly-autographed CD to a beaming fan. Pre-show merch signings were part of the deal, and they certainly brought in the extra cash, but after five months on the road, the members of Corroded Coffin are tired. Eddie scratches at the five o’clock shadow dotting his face, glancing at his watch. Just another ten minutes until they can wrap this up and start soundcheck. Then they’ll be back on the bus, shipping off to whatever city’s up next.
The security guard lets the next two people up to the table. Eddie reaches over to the pile of CDs, giving an exasperated sigh as he asks, “Name?”
That’s when he hears your voice.
His head snaps up, and he relaxes as he takes in your shy demeanor. You’re holding the hand of your friend–girlfriend?--hey, it’s the ‘90s; anything is possible. Your eyes sparkle as you say and spell your first name, biting your lower lip and averting your gaze from the gorgeous rockstar in front of you. “Pretty name,” he murmurs, writing a short message and swirling the Sharpie over the CD cover to make his exaggerated signature. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, yeah?”
You just giggle, and the girl next to you squeezes your hand. “She’s, like, completely in love with you,” she blabbers. “Every damn day since we got these tickets, it’s been, ‘What should I wear? Do you think Eddie will notice me?’”
You free your hand to elbow her, a little harsher than you’d intended. “Dianna!” you hiss, burying your face in your palms in a feeble attempt to hide your humiliation.
But Eddie just cocks his head, checking you out from head to toe. “Oh, he definitely noticed you,” he muses, handing you the CD with two lanyards. “You ladies wanna watch backstage? ‘Course you do; Charlie will bring you where you gotta go and, uh,” he looks directly at you, sending an excited shiver down your spine, “maybe we can notice each other a bit more later.”
You and Dianna nod vigorously as the beefy security guard leads you to the backstage VIP suite. A waiter comes around and takes your drink orders. You ask for a vodka soda, and Dianna gets a Long Island iced tea.
“You sure about that?” you whisper as the waiter walks away. “Those are really strong.”
Dianna shrugs. “It’s not every day we get free drinks. Might as well drink as much as we can.”
Meanwhile, Eddie’s fumbling his way through soundcheck, thinking about the way your breasts peeked out the top of your Corroded Coffin tank top, how your denim shorts perfectly cupped your ass, the shiny gloss that emphasized your lips. God, he wants those lips wrapped around his hard, throbbing–
“Munson? You wanna get your head out of your ass so we can put on a show?” Jeff’s voice booms through his mic. 
“He’s thinking about that hot chick he gave backstage passes to,” Gareth teases, and Simon makes kissy noises at their lead singer.
Eddie launches his guitar pick in Gareth’s direction, narrowly missing his head. “Shut the fuck up, all of you,” he grumbles, but he knows that they’re right. Just get through the show and she’s all yours. He palms himself over his pants discreetly. He’s never been more grateful for his guitar, since his tight leather pants do nothing to hide his burgeoning erection.
Corroded Coffin puts on a hell of a show, as usual. They close with “Rock Hard,” their hit single about hooking up with a groupie after a concert, and Eddie thanks every celestial being that it’s the last song of the night. As soon as the band thanks the audience and says their goodbyes, Eddie dashes offstage. He bolts into your suite, all sweat and smiles. “How’d you like the–” He stops, frowning when he sees an empty room, save for Charlie, who’s smoking a cigarette in a lounge chair. “Where is she?”
“Sorry, Casanova,” Charlie drawls. “Her little friend drank too much, got sick all over the bathroom. Had to get them outta here before she ruined anything else.”
Eddie groans, throwing his head back as his bandmates laugh at his misfortune. “Goddammit,” he hisses, pushing his perspiration-soaked hair from his eyes.
“C’mon, man,” Simon claps a hand on Eddie’s back. “There’s a bar down the street; plenty of the girls from the show will be there…” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“Nah, I’m just gonna head back to the bus. ‘M pretty beat.”
“Oh, something’s getting beat tonight,” Gareth jokes. Eddie flips him off, but once again, he’s right.
He’s barely closed the curtain to his makeshift bedroom before he’s hastily unbuttoning his leather pants, shoving his ringed hand into his boxer briefs. Just the sensation of his own touch has him bucking his hips. He runs his thumb over the bead of pre-cum pearling at his tip, using it to lubricate his palm. He uses his free hand to tug his pants down to his knees, sitting on the bed. He imagines you on your knees in front of him.
“S’big, isn’t it, baby?” Eddie coos. He leans over, letting a trail of saliva drip from his mouth to his shaft. “Thas’ right, spit on it. Such a dirty fuckin’ girl.” He grips the bedsheet with his left hand, dragging his right from base to tip. 
“What’s that? You want it in your mouth? Oh, pretty girl; you don’t have to ask twice.”
He fucks into his fist harder, feeling himself grow in his own grasp. “Mmm, let me make a mess of that face. Ruin that fuckin’ makeup you worked so hard on. Wanted me to notice you; well, I sure fuckin’ did. Knew I had to have you, sweet thing.” If you were actually here, you’d be gagging on his dick as your nose grazes the thatch of curls on his pevlis, tears reflexively gathering at the corners of your eyes. Your mascara would start to run; the telltale sign of a good blowjob.
He loosens his hold on the sheet, cupping his balls. “If you do that, ‘m gonna bust in that sinful mouth of yours, fuckin’ swear.” A harsh chuckle escapes his throat. “Bet you’d like that. Bet you’d take my whole load down your throat, swallow it all, yeah?”
Eddie brings himself right to the edge before forcing himself to slow down. “I know, baby. I know you wanna keep sucking me off. But I wanna–no, I gotta be in that perfect little pussy. Now, come sit on my cock. Nice and slow–thassit.” He tightens his grip on his length, keeping a slow rhythm to mimic the feeling of gradually filling you up. “You can take it, don’t worry. I’ve got you, baby girl.”
He bites his lower lip so hard that he swears it might bleed. “Oh, angel. Y’feel even better than I ever imagined, holy fuck.” He increases his pace, choking out a pathetic moan. “What’s that? You want me to come inside you? So desperate f’me, aren’t you?” He whimpers at the mental image of you bouncing on his cock, tits pressed up against the dusting of hair on his chest. “Come with me, fuck, wanna make you come. Want you to cream my cock while I fuckin’ fill you up.” Eddie lets out one last pornographic moan as thick, hot ropes of cum spurt out onto his thick fingers. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.
Cleaning himself up, Eddie grumbles to himself about your stupid drunk friend and how he’s so tired of fucking his own hand. He falls asleep quickly, worn out from the combination of the concert and his own post-show escapades.
The next morning, Eddie wakes up and wipes the sleep from his eyes. The bus driver has already set out for their next destination, somewhere in Bumblefuck. Eddie doesn’t care, he just wants you. Real you, not the fantasy he’d conjured up last night.
“Hey, boss,” Charlie says when Eddie pads out to the bus’s common space. “Forgot to give this to you after the show.” He hands him a folded piece of paper, which reads:
Eddie:
Had to get Dianna home before she puked on the carpet. I was not paying for that to be replaced–the tickets for your autograph already bankrupted me…
But if you wanna stop by my hotel room later, just give me a call. I don’t think you were done noticing me. I certainly wasn’t done noticing you. 
xo
You signed your name with a glossy lip print and your hotel room extension.
“Charlie,” Eddie starts through gritted teeth, “if you can convince the driver to turn this bus around, I won’t fire you.”
--
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toxicanonymity · 9 months
Note
i need more raider joel more than i need air in my lungs
Night air.
3500 words, raider!Joel x f!reader | ✨gif
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Raider master list ⭐ Joel master
reader-curated playlist | sweet pea (smut songs)
“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. . . He makes room for you, but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry.
You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t.  "When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask instead.
SUMMARY: Joel brutalizes a bad guy, gives it to you hard, then works on something for you and gives it to you slow. His POV is revealing. WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates, ANGST, Joel's trauma, overkill violence, dubcon (stockholm syndrome) unsafe P in V x2 (hard then soft), dark fluff, f masturbation, somnophilia, staying inside, NO Y/N. A/N: ty @milla-frenchy for Qs & recs 🖤
—--- JOEL——
Yeah, Joel killed two of his own men, and they had it coming.  He caught them red handed on their way into your room in the stash house. It still makes his blood boil to think about. If they hadn’t walked into that room talking about you like a piece of meat, those two men would be alive. Joel would do it again in a heartbeat.  
He’s not surprised when the others are shaken, but if they’re good men, they have nothing to worry about.  When things remain tense longer than he expects, Joel rounds them up for a group meeting. He puts you in the usual room with his trusted guard Carter posted at the door.  The meeting becomes heated. 
“No one’s gonna be left at this rate,” one man barks.  “They ain’t gonna say it,” he gestures behind him to the other men, “but I will. She shouldn’t be here.” 
Joel’s voice raises with his blood pressure. He asks, “What’d you say to me, Harold?" as he stands up. 
Louder, maybe loud enough for you to hear, Harold repeats, “She shouldn’t be here.  It’s bound to happen.” Bound to happen? These low-lifes are bound to put their hands on Joel Miller’s girl? Joel can feel the beat of his rage in his veins. All his muscles tense. 
He takes a deep breath, exhales sharply, then says matter-of-factly, “I’ll show ya what else is bound to happen.” 
Joel picks up his rifle. 
"Yeah, kill me," Harold chides. "Kill us all."
Joel shakes his head no. His voice is deep and flat.  "Not until ya beg me to." Now he’s gotta make an example out of someone. 
Joel forces Harold outside, then puts his rifle behind his back and lets Harold take a swing at him, just for fun.  When Joel gets this wound up, he needs to feel something. After getting clocked square in the jaw, Joel beats him until he’s barely conscious. Then, Joel hoists Harold, who is not a light man, and impales him on a sharp, severed fence post. 
Joel puts his rifle around front again, leaving Harold alive but doomed, and heads back toward the house.  He’s almost to the door when Harold manages to groan through his gurgles.  Joel turns around, calmly raises his rifle, shoots him in the head, then keeps walking. He goes back inside, chest heaving, wiping blood splatter off his face with his wrist. The rest of them are still inside. No one came to Harold's defense or ran. Joel stares down the men, and based on the faces he sees, he’s not worried about any of them.  
“Rest of ya got nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” he reassures them. “long as ya leave her ‘lone.” 
The men nod. Joel thinks about adding, and I’m not the only one you’ve gotta worry about, tempted to warn them that you know your way around a pistol and can handle yourself. One bullet, right between the eyes of that fucker. Joel thinks about it all the time. There’s something about his little sweet pea being a badass. And thank god, because he almost lost you. 
“Now back to business.” 
They discuss the rival crew they think sent two guys to Joel’s trailer, only for Joel and you to kill them. Joel doesn't think the crew is stupid enough to cause any more trouble, but agrees someone has to keep watch Just in case. 
Joel almost reminds his men that he holds all the smuggling routes and contacts, just in case they’re concerned enough to pull something.  But he doesn't need to say it. He dismisses them and grabs a duffle bag before collecting you from Carter. Carter asks what to do with Harold, and Joel says leave him for a while.
When the two of you get back to his trailer, Joel is ready to fuck out his anger. He sees himself in the mirror, chest heaving, veins about to pop, blood splatter on his hairline. God damnit, Harold. Joel  showers because he doesn’t want any part of Harold getting close to you. Not even his blood. 
You’re in the kitchen getting a glass of water when Joel walks out of the bathroom in just a towel.  He crosses the kitchen, drops the towel, and pins you against the counter, pressing his hardness against your ass. He backs up enough to scrunch up your dress and growls, "good girl," when he finds you panty-less and wet. You knew. You were ready for it. 
He grunts as he shoves himself into you, and he gives it to you good. "No one’s," he thrusts, "gonna," he grunts "touch ya." He plunges into you twice more, breathing heavily, then adds, “but me.” The power of his hips sends you to your toes with each thrust. He wraps an arm around you to hold you steady and watches over your shoulder as your tits jiggle with each punch of his hips. It doesn’t take you long to come.  Then he curls his hands under your arms to hold your shoulders down from the front and begins to pulse with a low groan. He leans his head against yours and cradles it from the other side as he catches his breath, then asks, “you good?”
You nod, “mm-hmm,” and he pulls out, feeling better. 
“Good.” 
-
In the following days, things settle down in Joel’s group and get back to normal. The rival crew doesn't show up.
—--
One night, Joel leaves you inside the trailer while he sits out by the fire, as he often does.  What you don't know is that he's not just sitting, drinking, and thinking.  He’s working on something.  He’s been making things for you. He hasn’t given you anything because nothing’s good enough, and it’s probably not going to get any better, but he keeps doing it.  Sometimes he feels a little silly, but they’re things that will help both of you.  Practical things. 
He made a thigh holster for your gun. There was an old one without the straps in the weapons cache which is just a small room of chaos in the stash house, no telling what else is in there.  He used part of a belt for the top strap and some black ribbon on the bottom, for the time being.  It would be better than nothing, but he hasn't given it to you in case it wouldn’t work. Maybe it doesn't matter. As the weather changes, you'll probably need new clothes, anyway. Maybe even pants, he internally grumbles. Sweaters, too, so your chest won’t be exposed. 
Tonight, Joel has another strap of leather with him, one that wasn't right for the holster. He also has a pot of water and a steel nail with a makeshift handle so he doesn’t burn himself. He heats up the tool and uses the hot nail head to emboss the strap with bold letters. He’s been working on it all week, and he’s only on ‘E.’ It’ll be first name only at this rate. You might not wanna wear it anyway, but it’s for your own good.  
Joel’s almost lost you twice now. If there’s anything he can do to make someone think twice about touching or taking you, he’ll do it. Because Jackson, may he burn in hell, was right. Joel can’t have his eyes on you every single second. He's told you before: you tell’em you belong to Joel Miller. They’ll back right off when they hear it.  But it doesn’t hurt for them to see it, too. And of course Joel wouldn't mind seeing it himself. 
Joel’s fingers are too big for work this small.  He accidentally makes the vertical line of the E slanted. Ah hell, this whole thing is no good anyway. You may never see it at this rate. But it feels good working with his hands, especially on something he thinks could help keep you safe and keep you his. You're a good girl, his good girl. 
He should be thinking strategy, what’s going to happen with these warring crews, but that’s just not where his head’s at.   
—--- YOU 🌸🫛—-----
You listen to the fire crackle and pop, longing for Joel to come to bed, longing for him to hold you, and more.  He seems to stay outside longer than usual. When he adds a new log to the fire, you get impatient and decide to go out. You put on your shoes and go to the door, pushing it open just an inch. The rail to the stairs is blocking your view, but he's looking down at something. His jaw clenches in the firelight and he raises his eyebrows as he looks up.  You slowly open the door, stepping out onto the stairs in your nightie.  He puts something down on the ground, out of view.  
“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie.  As you approach, he takes a swig of whiskey and puts the flask down.  His eyes are dark as he watches the flames.  He makes room for you but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t. 
"When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask. 
His brows knit as he looks at you. For a few seconds, he concentrates on picking lint off the flannel and smoothing your nightgown. 
“I dunno, sweet pea. Got some stuff to figure out.”  
“Can I help?”
He shakes his head no. You put your arms around his neck and rest your cheek against his shoulder. Then you slowly roll your face against him so your lips touch his warm skin and your nose rests on top of his shoulder muscle.  You close your eyes and stay like that for a moment.  He doesn’t stop you. Then you dare to press your lips ever so slightly into his skin before pulling your face back to look at him, your lips disconnecting with a barely perceptible smack. Joel’s still looking at the fire, but he allows himself a subtle smile as he exhales a silent laugh, then cradles your head.  “Go to bed, sweet pea.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll be there in a li’l bit.” 
You take the flannel off and get in bed, still smelling like the fire. You think of getting naked, eager to feel Joel however he wants you. But maybe he likes undressing you, and it’s chillier than normal, too.  You lay under the covers getting wet and tingly thinking about what he'll do when he comes to bed.  
The fire is still blazing.  There’s no sign of him putting it out.  It doesn't seem like he's coming in soon, but you're too turned on to just go to sleep. You close your eyes, recalling the feeling of Joel’s warm skin on your lips by the fire.  The way his eyes sparkled. The way he always opens his arms for you to get in his lap–that seat is always yours whenever you want it. 
You think about how handsome he is. Even, or especially when he’s looking rough.  All dirty and beat up when he got home that one night, muscles pumped up. His sexy stitches. You play a montage in your head of all the times you’ve heard him yell, seen him stomp around ordering guys to do this or that. How fiercely he protects you. Your lip creeps under your teeth and you close your eyes. 
All the way turned on, you slide your hand down between your legs and imagine him walking in and ravaging you.  You recall how urgently he fucked you at the kitchen table after he thought you almost died.  You recall the time he fucked you naked in missionary and and marked your neck.  You try to visualize the look in his eyes.
And then, when you’re just about to come, you remember that one morning. Those few seconds you kissed, when he kissed you back. He had pulled you into him before he knew what he was doing. You still savor that fleeting moment he was grinding against you, his plush lips locked with yours. You can practically feel it.  And that’s enough to put you over the edge. You turn your head into the pillow and brace for your orgasm. 
—----- JOEL —------
You must think Joel can't hear your pretty little sounds when you touch yourself, but over the crackling of the fire he could swear he hears you moan into a pillow. His nose can't help but twitch into a little smile. He lets the fire die as he finishes the 'E',  then he comes inside and washes off the smoke in the shower. By the time he gets in bed, you're asleep on your back with your left arm on your chest. 
He carefully gets into the bed, spreading his weight out to not jostle the mattress. He's to your left, lying on his side, facing you. You’re so pretty and peaceful with your eyes closed and your sweet lips just slightly parted. An urge has been growing in his chest. He’s tried to push it away, but it's only grown, and he's afraid he can’t stop it happening. 
He can’t bring himself to do it when you’re awake. He can’t let himself see how happy it makes you. The loss feels inevitable, and it gets closer and closer.  The panic he felt when FEDRA had you on the ground.  The devastation when it sounded like you were shot outside his own trailer. It gets worse every time. And last time, there was something new. Two losses flashed before his eyes.  The loss of you (in the present and future), and the loss of what could have been–at least for a while, when he had the chance. The worst part is, he doesn't know which would hurt more.  
His eyes fall on your mouth again. 
If he does it now, it won’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. If he does it now, maybe this urge will stop pulling at him every time you’re close.  And then he can tell himself it never happened. Yeah, if he does it now, it can be like it never happened. Like he never let himself get that close, never gave you hope that he could be anything more than the terrible man he is. 
His lip twitches as he watches you sleep.  Then his breathing syncs with yours, and for a moment, everything fades away but you and him and the physical need that's tugging at him.  
Joel leans over you, careful not to wake you, and he hovers over your pretty face. It's happening. His heart races as his face drifts toward yours, drawn to you like a magnet. 
He closes his eyes, presses his lips gently into yours, and something rushes through his blood to every part of his body.  Fuck.  He's instantly soothed. With your lips still locked, he takes one breath through his nose then pulls away. He takes a deep breath, expecting the buzz to fade, expecting to hate himself. But you're so pretty and your lips were so soft. He almost chokes on his own saliva.  He's quickly gotten hard.
Still fast asleep, you sigh and your nose twitches. You hum the prettiest little "mm," and roll over on your right, facing away from him like you normally sleep. 
He pinches his eyes shut tight. He has to have you. 
Joel curls himself around you, inhales your hair, and cups your breast. He presses his cock against you, hardening to full strength by now.  He lets out a deep but quiet, "Mmm," not enough to wake you up. The exposed skin of your back and shoulder is so inviting, he's salivating. His arm slides from your breast down your nightie to your mound and you sigh. He lifts his head to see if you're awake as he aimlessly caresses you over your nightie. Your brow furrows with his light touch. Aw, sweet pea, he thinks to himself. You're just so cute. He presses a gentle kiss into your neck where it meets your shoulder, and he begins to ghost your clit through the fabric. 
You sigh again, but still don't seem to wake up yet. He presses your mound so your hips tilt for him, and he pulls up the nightgown. He tests you with a finger and finds you wet but pulls back and pauses to add saliva to his tip.  He teases your entrance with his cock, and you sigh "Mmm, Joel," as you begin to stir awake. He pushes the curve of his tip just slightly inside, then holds your breast. 
He asks, “You 'wake?” 
“Mmm,” you answer weakly. 
"wake you up?" His cock prods at your tight, wet entrance, pushing in a little further.. He's itching to be inside you, but he's taking his time, captivated by your peacefulness. 
Your spine arches and you push back on him, taking another inch of his cock in with a moan as you stir awake. "Joel,” you sigh. 
He presses his lips into your neck and lets them linger.  You ask, "are you awake?" 
"Mm-hmm," he answers, his voice deep and gravely.  He groans softly as he pushes his cock into you. He takes a deep breath as your insides make room for him. It dawns on him that he's never taken the time to savor the moment your bodies are joined, but shit, it feels good. He didn't know it could feel so good like this. He’s feeling every groove of you in slow motion. Each centimeter of you greets him with a tight, warm hug.  You push back on him with a moan, bringing your bodies together. 
Oh, sweet pea. You want it so bad, and you take it so good.
—---YOU 🌸🫛—---
Joel’s cock spreads you apart and he buries his length in you slowly at first, palming your breasts. He pauses, all the way inside you, and removes your nightie so your naked bodies are flush. It feels like a dream. The way he kissed your shoulder, the way he’s fucking you right now with his whole body cradling yours, each thrust so deliberate, you can’t help but still wonder if he’s truly awake. If you're truly awake. He grunts softly each time he bottoms out. His sighs and moans are deep and gravely. 
“Sweet pea,” he whispers against your neck, “ohhhh, you — ohh, you take it so good, baby.” His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs. He whispers in your ear,  "God DAMN, youfeelsogood,” he inhales sharply, then sighs your name.  Your nipples harden and you get goosebumps. 
“Joel,” you whimper at his fingers on your clit.  The fullness of his cock was enough, and the addition of his hand has you twitching already.  
“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispers, and his voice is so soothing, you relax again. He slows down his pace, his length sliding snugly into your warmth slow enough to feel the drag of his tip inside you. He touches your clit and you whimper again. He adjusts his hand to touch it less directly, pulsing his flattened fingers.  That’s what you need. You moan. 
“Good girl.” 
You wanna ask him again if he’s really awake, but you don’t want to break the spell. You let the silence linger, peppered with moans and sighs from each of you. You’d love for this to last forever. You love every way he gives it to you, but the newness of this is something to savor. After a few minutes, sweat begins to bead and run between your bodies.  You’re both breathing heavily. He gropes at your breasts and the entire front of your body, like he can’t get you close enough. His breathing gets ragged.  You memorize the feel of his cock dragging thick and slow inside you.  Then he adds his hand again. His thrusts become more powerful.  “Come for me, I want you to– nnngh.” 
“Joel,” you whine. 
‘Ohh,” he moans. 
“Joel, I’m–”
“Go ‘head, baby—ugghh—-you can do it”
Your upper back presses into his chest.  He groans and holds you tight as you convulse against him and choke his cock with your climax. “Ohhhh, baby, mmmm.” He bottoms out and pulses inside you as you’re still coming.  He sighs "ohhh," as he fills you up with his warm release. Your body hugs him more with every pulse of his cock.  
When you’re both finished coming, your bodies are still joined. You relish the fullness of him inside you.  You expect him to pull out any minute, but his breathing regulates with yours. 
At some point, Joel's breath stutters abruptly, and you realize he's fallen asleep like this. Holding you close, body curled around you, cock gradually softening inside you. It isn't long until you drift off, too. 
-
Smut continues here: asleep inside
Next major chapter: hunger
-
Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Please consider commenting or reblogging to show raider Joel your love, even if this post is old. 💖 Love you guys. I love your passion for him. Your engagement motivates me. <333
Friendly reminder that there will be no pregnancy in this fic, Joel was snipped pre outbreak. 
----
@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr. Some of my fics are pretty dark!
⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list soon, sorry ⚠️
All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading
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satoruhour · 5 months
Text
LESSON NO. 1
a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3
wc: 2.1k
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“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.
the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.
always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.
a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.
but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.
although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.
“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.
“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”
gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.
the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”
nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”
geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.
“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.
he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”
geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.
at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.
“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.
“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.
“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”
“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”
suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”
the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.
“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.
“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”
you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”
suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.
he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.
now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.
silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”
“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.
“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”
your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”
the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”
this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.
“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.
but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.
“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.
“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.
“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”
“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.
the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.
“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.
it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.
you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.
the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.
suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.
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@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟
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sanspuppet · 3 months
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~Public sex with Ateez
short scenario for each member
- the way i wrote the imagines can result quite different but i wrote this through different days so- idk just read it and you’ll understand lol
• this is a work of fiction and obviously i have no idea what are they into so please just take it as fake scenarios
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• Hongjoong
A scenario that has been going through my mind lately is going on a date with him to a fashion show, all dressed elegant and you being so feminine and attractive that he couldn’t wait long before being able to take that dress off of you. When all people are focused on watching the runway that’s about to start he’d squeeze your thighs and call for your attention, he’d whisper to your ear. “Let’s go now, i want you to go to the bathroom. Got that?” you’d blink confusedly. “But Joong, and the show?” “Fuck off, you’re the most beautiful person i could ever see tonight”
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• Seonghwa
Feeling like he’d get needy especially after performing one of those nasty ass choreos they made for their tour. He’d grow more impatient with every song until the last ones where it was quite clear that he was hard. He’d be good at pretending it doesn’t annoys him, but in reality he can’t wait to get rid of it and release all of his “sexiness” using you. You’d be waiting for him in the backstage, giving him a hug right after he comes in. He’d grab your waist and squeeze it tightly and pull you towards his dressing room, while being stuck on a deep kiss.
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• Yunho
I feel like you two would go on a date to night clubs and just vibe together along with the music. He’d find you very pretty with your favorite outfit and nice makeup, not to talk about how cute you looked with your cheeks flushed for the alcohol. He’d trail his own hand down his lap, trying to hide his hard-on. But after all, even if you two would fuck loudly in the bathroom, no one could hear you for the loud music… so why not? He’d simply stand up and take your hand, if you thought you were going to dance, as soon as he leads over the rest room you’d realize what are his real intentions.
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• Yeosang
I don’t know if i should call it actually public sex but i feel he wouldn’t be really into that either way so probably when you do have it, it’s in his car while parked on the side road or in a park. Maybe something before meeting other people and he knows he couldn’t have you properly until you come back home, so a quickie would be nice for him. He’d unconsciously advertise you by being very touchy even if his hands should be on the wheel. Then would park somewhere at anytime and ask you to ride him.
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• San
Probably this man likes very much having you take him randomly over the day, but despite this, i think he’s more into long sessions with multiple rounds. You’d tease each other very commonly but still public sex with him would happen only if the situation degenerates and the need is too hard to handle. Usually would have it in the bathroom of some members’ dorm. I think something light like just sitting on his lap or feeling the warmth of your body would turn him on so… yeah better not tease him much in public if you don’t want to be railed by him and still have to stay quiet to not being caught.
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• Mingi
I don’t know why but something tells me he’s pretty much into quickies and doesn’t give a fuck if there might be public. He likes showing you off and doesn’t bother much about showing he’s attracted to you too. Like i think he would be very flirty with you even in front of other people, teasing so much that at the end, you’re the one begging him to just fuck you in a corner wherever it is. Something about him just makes me think that he’d even ask his bros if he can use their bedroom just to fuck you if you’re at their place. Or even at work, i just think that he’d love to fuck in the practice room idk why.
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• Wooyoung
My thought on him is that he’d like to treat you like a princess and would love to go shopping with you. He would suggest you either cute and sexy outfits, just imagine having him sat on the little chair in the fitting room, watching you changing outfits. You stripping teasingly and smirk at him struggling to contain himself from fucking you right there in the closet. Well what can i say it wouldn’t be the first time it would happen hehe
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• Jongho
Gym sex. Fuckin gym sex with him help. Just imagine planning to work out together but ending up riding him because it’s your leg day while he’s laying on the bench and lifting weights 😮‍💨 Why is this scenario so damn hot to me? Having him under you, all sweaty and you can’t tell if he’s moaning for you or just because his muscles are sore from training. Not to mention that literally anyone could run into you two, fortunately he goes to a gym where it’s likely to be empty most of the time.
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taglist: @bunnyluvr25 @xonga @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @therealcuppicake @hongjoongswifefr @sugarnspice630 @stolasisyourparent @kaimisutra @jyunhosbby @pancake-freckle @cherrycel
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kaiijo · 6 months
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FRIENDS TO LOVERS — [KNB]
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characters: aomine daiki, midorima shintarou, hanamiya makoto content: gn! reader, reader has implied tieable hair in midorima’s, toxicity (it’s hanamiya, no one is surprised) notes: scenarios inspired by prompt list here
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aomine daiki ✶
aomine yawns again as he reclines against your pillows, sitting up only to peer at you. you’re working on homework that’s due in a couple of days, headphones covering your ears. you promised that you’ll order in food and play super smash bros with him when you finished, but it’s nearing eight and you’re still hunched over a problem set.
aomine groans loudly, “are you even close to being done?”
you move one headphone cup off. “i would be closer if you didn’t interrupt me every ten minutes.”
“i didn’t ask to hang out just to sit around.”
you roll your eyes. “you can go if you want, daiki.”
he sits up fully now, moving to the edge of your bed. “why’re you even doing this? s’not due ‘til friday.”
“some of us want to be good students.” you slide your headphones back on and turn back to scribbling out complicated equations on paper.
a couple of minutes pass again and instead of asking you anything, aomine stands up and shuffles behind you, reaching around and snatching the paper from underneath you. “hey!” you protest, shooting up from your seat and tearing off your headphones. “give it back, daiki.”
“no, you said you’d be done, like, two hours ago.”
“i swear i’m almost done!” you make a lunge for it and aomine just holds it above his head, his long arm adding to his already-massive height.
“no.” he smirks at the way your eyes furrow and your cheeks puff out. your head tilts to the left, and he knows that you’re thinking. he’s sure you’re going to try and jump of it again, so as a show, he stretches up further, the hem of his shirt lifting slightly. he swears he catches your eyes flickering down and something in his body sings a song of triumph and satisfaction at the motion. he can’t say why.
what you do next though is nothing that he expects. you stand on your toes, rest your hands delicately on his shoulders, and gaze up at him through your lashes. he startles; there’s something so… heated about your expression, about those half-lidded eyes.
“daiki,” you say softly. it’s almost hypnotic, the way you say his name, and he’s watching you with one raised eyebrow. the tips of his ears feel like they’re on fire.
he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing as his arm lowers, heading for the dip of your waist. he only snaps out of it at your victorious cry. “ha!” you take advantage of his still half-dazed state and push him firmly out of your bedroom door, closing it. the lock clicks into place and he hears you call on the other side, “one more problem, daiki, i promise. be a dear and set up smash in the living room?”
he walks down your hall automatically, the fire-like feeling spreading to his neck.
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midorima shintarou ✶
takao holds up a porcelain statue of a cat. “what about this?’
“takao, what about that screams ‘midorima shintarou?’”
takao shrugs. “i don’t know, maybe it’ll be december 25th’s lucky item. does oha asa put out horoscopes ahead of time?”
“no, that’s why he listens every morning when it airs,” you reply, setting down a teapot from a bigger set. you thank the tired-looking cashier, who just waves drowsily as you two exit the shop.
the two of you have been shopping all day for midorima’s christmas present, wandering all over japan and into various tchotchke stores to look. he’s a notoriously hard person to please, especially with gifts, and neither of you want a repeat of the ‘grey’s anatomy incident’ where four people got midorima the same book last holiday season when he announced his intention to go to medical school. nor do any of you want to get that look from him that struggles to look somewhat grateful while being very, very obviously displeased.
“we’ve been walking all day!” takao whines, clutching his stomach as it lets out an ungodly rumble. you check your watch; you two have been out for at least four hours. you point at a small diner boasting american food. “would you be okay with that?”
“i’d eat you right now if you’d let me.”
you snort, “hard pass. come on.”
the hostess sits you two at a booth and you shrug off your heavy winter coats. you pick up a menu and glance over it, but when you go to ask takao what he’ll be getting and if he wants to split a large order of assorted fries with you, you see he’s not looking at the menu.
you definitely do not like the way takao is eying you right now. “what?” you ask defensively, hands flying to the top of your head to try and pet down at hair you presume has been ruined by your excursion. “do i look bad or something?”
“is that shin-chan’s sweater?”
fuck. you had forgotten about pulling on one of the sweaters midorima left at your house the last time you studied together. it’s insanely soft — a mix of gray wool and cashmere — not to mention extremely cozy and warm. you tried to return it to midorima before but he just pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and huffed, “wear it until you get proper sweaters. no, sweatshirts don’t count.”
you internally groan. you don’t need takao on your ass again about whether or not you’re sure you and midorima aren’t dating or if you like him like that. honestly, the only reason you haven’t given him a certain yes or no is because… you don’t really know yourself.
you don’t have proper time to answer before the bell to the restaurant chimes and you see very recognizable green hair. of all the time and places he has to show up. (well, he did text you this morning that your zodiac sign was the least lucky and to wear a blue watch in order to improve your fortune; you should’ve found the watch.)
“oh! shin-chan!” takao waves him over, giving you a sly look. “we were just talking about—” takao’s stupid hawk-eyes zero in on midorima’s wrist as he tugs off his gloves. he looks way too please with himself as he asks, “shin-chan, is that they’re hair tie?”
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hanamiya makoto ✶
hanamiya steps out of the locker room shower, cracking his knuckles as he makes his way to his locker to dry off and change. he rolls his shoulders, toweling off his hair as he changes back into his school uniform. yamazaki and hara a prattling away, snickering under their breaths about the injuries they inflicted: sprained ankle, a hairline fracture, a minor concussion.
hanamiya doesn’t even turn around as he growls, “can you two shut up?”
to just bug him more, hara pops his gum. loudly. “who pissed in your cereal, captain?”
furihara drones, “you were sloppier today. almost got fouled by the ref.”
hanamiya doesn’t reply, yanking the knot of his tie down furiously. “fuck off.”
hara lets out a low whistle and seto asks, “does this have to do with your little friend? they got a boyfriend, right?”
hanamiya lets out a long breath through his nose and he spins around to face his teammate. “for now,” he says, slamming his locker shut.
“you got a plan, captain?” asks yamazaki as he digs through his duffel bag.
“when do i not?”
———
you greet hanamiya’s mother with a thin smile when she opens the door. her face lights up when she sees you and she pulls you into a warm hug, telling you that hanamiya’s in his bedroom and that you could go right up.
you wonder if she can see the glossy film to your eyes or if she was polite enough not to comment on it.
hanamiya’s sitting at his desk, head propped up on his knuckle. he languidly flips through pages but you know he’s not really reading the material. he’ll get away with it too and get an a anyways, the bastard. he glances at you. “you look like shit.”
usually, you could banter with him. it’s why your friendship works; you have a thicker skin than most and you give just as good as you take, especially when it comes to hanamiya’s sneering, half-joking insults. normally, you would have replied with something like “still better than you,” but instead, your frayed nerves snap and you feels the hot tears start rolling down your cheeks.
hanamiya’s simpering expression sobers up and he sighs heavily, ushering you to sit on the bed. “why’re you crying?”
you sniffle and tell him that the guy you’ve been seeing from your literature class broke up with you. just out of the blue told you that you two wanted different things and you were going to colleges in different areas and that wouldn’t work and he was sorry and… that’s all you gleaned because his words were so rushed as he scurried off as fast as he could.
hanamiya’s brow furrows sympathetically and he draws you into a hug, saying, “i told you i didn’t like that guy. fuck him.”
you sink into his arms. “yeah,” you mutter, “fuck him.”
as you relax against him, hanamiya can’t help but smirk to himself in satisfaction. someone who runs off after a little confrontation doesn’t deserve anything from you.
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luvjunie · 10 months
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— headcanons. what life is like for miles!42
a/n: i honestly didn’t mean for these to get so angsty oopsies!! i kept adding on so they’re also very lengthy wc: 1,751
contains: mentions of grief
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Everyone thinks he’s rude and impossible to approach—but that’s a common misconception. In reality, he’s actually quite shy and simply prefers to keep to himself. His quiet nature often causes him to come off ill-mannered, which is completely unintentional on his end and partially the fault of those who assume what he’s like instead of actually getting to know him.
He used to be open to making friends and spending time with peers, but after everyone found out his dad died— which was impossible to prevent considering the man who used to drive him to school now had a giant mural made in his honor— he began receiving a ridiculous amount of pitied stares in the halls, began hearing hushed whispers about how hard things must be for him at home now. And even though they were, he hated that he was being treated differently by those he once kept close to him, like a charity case. As if he were fragile and would break— like he often did when he was alone.
His old friends were supposed to be his distraction, something to take his mind off how he now had to grow up faster than he’d liked. Something to remind him that his trauma hadn’t aged him as much as he feared; that he truly was still a kid at heart. But instead, they served as a constant reminder of the worst thing he’d ever had to live through— skated around him like he’d blow up the second they said the wrong thing; responded with heartfelt condolences instead of laughing with him whenever he’d tell a funny story about his dad. So eventually, he drifted away from them and began keeping to himself all together.
Don’t put him in a box because of his prowler side hustle, this boy is smart as hell!! Especially with one parent now being gone and his mom struggling to pay the bills? He takes his academics very seriously, he has no choice. He has to get it out the mud somehow and he doesn’t have the privilege of skipping classes as much as 1610-miles does. He’s working two years above his grade level in AP Calculus and AP physics, and has been accused of cheating on his tests a couple times due to how fast he completes them, as well as the fact that he has never once asked a question from the seat he chose in the back of the room.
It’s not something anyone would expect, but he enjoys baking a lot and he’s damn good at it too. When he was younger, he’d spent one summer with his Mamá Lena (Rio’s mother), who had him in the kitchen helping her cook and bake almost everyday and it just stuck. It’s a secret talent of his that never really comes up in conversation, and that you wouldn’t know about unless you’ve seen him doing it. His banana bread muffins using a recipe he took months to perfect taste like the gods themselves made them, and he’ll slip one into his mom’s work lunch whenever he makes them because he knows they’re her favorite.
He’s a lover boy at heart, if you were to look into his playlist, the songs you’d find in there probably wouldn’t be what you’d expect. Listens to bobby bland, which was heavily influenced by his uncle, old school rap, and he really likes love songs from the 90s because they make him feel calm, and allow him to imagine what his life would be like if he could have something like what they’re singing about. He’s terrified he’ll never be able to experience that due to his inability to open up to others. And often, he doesn’t even try to express the emotions that are tough to swallow, a firm believer in the saying that ‘once you’re down, it’s hard to get back up.’
Keeps his room pretty clean. It’s probably the one and only thing he has control over in his life, a constant for him. His room is his safe-haven so he treats it as such. It’s basically the same as 1610’s, just with a more matured look, a lot less color and less expression. He unfortunately lost that spark for a lot of his interests, so you won’t see more than a small punching bag, some boxing gloves hanging from the doorknob and few stragglers in the form of posters he didn’t feel like taking down.
He doesn’t like to argue, at all. He hates fighting with anyone he loves and he’s very quick to forgive them or squash the disagreement all together now that his dad is no longer here. When Jeff died, they were still on rocky terms from their previous dispute and even while years have passed, Miles still has yet to forgive himself for that. So now, he usually lets bygones be bygones, and never lets a conversation end on a bad note.
Continued growing his hair out once he realized it was a way for him to bond and spend more time with his mom. Within the little availability they do have, between her working doubles at the hospital, him being pulled in every direction now that he’s the ‘man of the house’—uncle Aaron’s words— and having to do things he’s not proud of to assist her while still going to school during the day, they make the time. Miles only gets it braided by her, and he enjoys the talks they have when he’s sat on the floor between her legs with his back to her. And when she’s done, regardless of how ridiculously embarrassing it is, and how he’s now over a head taller than her, he always lets her pinch his cheeks and call him her ‘handsome little man’. He hasn’t looked at a pair of hair shears since.
On that note, he is very, very defensive when it comes to his mother. Miles is not the kind to go around beating people up just for kicks; mostly because he’s not that kind of person, but also because even if he wanted to— he can’t.
In preparation for stepping into the prowler role Uncle Aaron put Miles into boxing/m.m.a classes when he turned fourteen, and he took to the skill very quickly. So well, in fact, that his hands can now technically be considered deadly weapons in the eye of the law due to his extensive training— which means he could get slapped with a ridiculous assault charge that would have him doing some time in a juvenile correction facility over a simple fist fight. (if he’s not masked as the prowler obviously).
But, some kid in his history class thought it’d be funny to make a slick comment about how Mrs. Morales was ‘single’ and ‘up for grabs’ now that his dad had passed, and the situation ended with Miles suspended for a week after he’d basically thrown his desk over to get to the kid, his knuckles bruised, and a tirade of complaints from the boy’s mother about his now-rearranged nose. However, after hearing the disgusting comment he had made about Miles’ mom, she was kind enough to not press charges and forced her son to apologize to the both of them.
That woman is his saving grace, literally. She stepped up in ways he didn’t even know were possible after his dad died, barely taking time for herself to grieve because she wanted to make sure her little boy didn’t fall apart. He doesn’t let anyone disrespect her and that’s always made known by him. He’s a mama’s boy.
They kind of have a titfortat thing going on, him and his mom. Like how she always stops in to ask him how his day was, if school is going well or if he needs anything, even if the time isn’t ideal and she’s talking to a sleepy Miles at 1am in the morning who can barely keep his eyes open. Or how his uniform is always freshly ironed and laid out for him in the morning, regardless of how exhausted she is and how badly she wants to crawl into bed after her shift. Or how when he’s sick, she’ll drive all the way across town to one of the only fresh markets that sells yuca root and white yautia so she can make him sancocho (a traditional puerto rican dish). It’s the one thing she knows always makes him feel better.
And Miles does nice things for her, too. Like draping a blanket over her sleeping form when she dozes off on the couch in front of the TV. Or making sure her phone is plugged in, so her alarm goes off in the morning, because sometimes she knocks out before she can bring herself to do it. He even goes as far as to secretly slip some extra cash he’s made from a recent job into the ‘RENT’ jar she keeps on her dresser— dropping a hundred in every now and then when she’s not there to see him do it. She’s never once asked him for help, but the one time he took it upon himself to offer it, he was shot down in seconds, and was made to promise her that he wouldn’t worry about it ever again. Her exact words being “You’re too young to worry about something like this mijo, okay? You take all the money you make from your after school job, every single penny, and you save it. Mama’s got this.”
But sometimes, she doesn’t. And Miles knows that she wants to be strong for him. For them. But it takes two, he knows that as well, so he helps out anyway.
And with prayers that they’re not short— Rio counts everything in the rent jar towards the end of the month, and a string of celebratory whoops and hollers will always sound from her room when she realizes they surprisingly have some extra cash that’ll allow her to take some days off and relax for once, and maybe even do something fun together. He’ll listen from his room with a knowing smile, more than happy to let his contributions remain undisclosed to affirm her efforts of providing for them the best she can. With her energy so depleted from how demanding her job is, she’s never suspected it was him discreetly assisting, and chalked it up to her forgetting how much she’d mindlessly dropped in there after each paycheck.
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lovelyverosika · 3 months
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You didn’t know but with a twist
Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!Reader
Warning: swearing
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A/N: Hey<3 My name is Verosika and I’ll write fanfictions whenever I have the time to :) This is my first time writing one, so it’s based on the song "You didn’t know" to make it easier for me. Just to let you know english isn’t my first language..so be prepared for some grammar mistakes :,D
Y/N POV:
We all sat in the courtroom, waiting for the trail to begin. Next to me was my husband Adam and Lute. I wasn’t supposed to be here but Adam wanted me to hear the "childish" and unrealistic ideas of the princess of hell.
After everyone was here Sera spoke "We're gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into heavenly realm by means of this 'Hazbin hotel', Princess Morningstar?",Sera said wanting Charlie to speak up.
I looked down to Charlie,my head resting on Adam’s shoulder. "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as-" before Charlie could speak Adam interrupts her: "Objection, lame and unoriginal". I sighed at his immature behaviour and gave him a slight bump with my head.
Charlie was flipping through her cards making Adam roll his eyes. "If you have actually evidence, then show it already." He said,glaring at Charlie. "We have two patrons already they’re making incredible progress" Charlie defended and I smiled, "Who?", I asked. "Angel Dust" Charlie spoke. "Oh yeah, the pornstar demon" Adam snickered as he added. "He's totally worth being redeemed".
Suddenly Monika,another demon stood up. "Well then, if you know so much…what do you think it takes to get into heaven?",she spoke. It was quiet until I asked if Adam was okay. He scoffed as he pulled out a golden paper from his pockets and a pen, "Give me a fucking moment, okay?",he then started writing and gave me the paper as I read it out, "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?", I chuckled looking at him with an raised eyebrow. He shrugged "Uh, yeah? Sure got me here...didn't it?",he said seemingly questioning himself. Sera sighed before saying: "He was the first human soul in heaven."
In the following hours Charlie showed us the improvement of this demon called Angel dust and how he did everything what Adam wrote on his list but nothing happened. Sera only sighed as she wanted to declare the trail as failed and that we will see what brings someone to heaven when the first soul arrives. I sat there with my head hanging. I felt bad for keeping my secret,especially when I looked over to Emily,who held the paper that Adam had written earlier.
Emily: But she was right, Sera. She showed us a soul can improve. He saw the light, Sera. Checked all the boxes that you said would prove a person deserves a second chance. Now we turn our backs, no second glance?
Sera: It's not as simple as you think. Not everything is spelled in ink.
Charlie: It's not fair, Sera!
Vaggie: Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head.
Charlie: No! Don't you care, Sera? That just because someone is dead, it doesn't mean they can't resolve to change their ways turn the page, escape infernal blaze.
Y/N: I'm sure you wish it could be so. But there's a lot that you don't know.
Lute: What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.
Lute & Adam: There's no question to be posed!He's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that Hell is forever?
Adam: A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to…
Y/N: Adam…
Adam: Come down and exterminate you.
Emily: Wait!
Adam: Shit…
Emily: What are you saying? Let me get this straight…You go down there and kill those poor souls?
Charlie & Y/N: You didn’t know?
Adam: Whoops
Lute: Guess the cat’s out of the bag.
Adam: What’s the big deal?
Emily: Sera, tell me that you didn't know…
Sera: I thought, since I'm older it's my load to shoulder
Emily: No!
Sera: You have to listen, it was such a hard decision. I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to do what was required.
Emily: To think that I admired you, well I don't need your condescension. I'm not a child to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretension? Was I too naive to expect you to heed the morals you're purveying?
Charlie: That's what the fuck I've been saying!
Emily,Charlie & Monika: If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie! If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky. The rules are shades of gray, when you don't do as you say. When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again.
Monika: Don't you act all high and mighty!Adam did you ever think your "sweet" wife might be a liar?
Y/N: Huh? Wait no…please!
Monika: Don’t be such a crybaby! Why hide the fact that you were a demon just like us?
Part 2
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