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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

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daddy issues

it was so wrong and so good to bring her to your place, and being fucked by her. it feels really fucking good.

pairings: scarlett johansson x reader

warnings: 18 MINORS DNI alcohol consumption, rough sex, strap-on (r receiving), rough kissing, slightly dark!scarlett, dirty talking, oral sex, and daddy issues.

notes: these photos aren’t mine, i just found them on twitter, and i’m absolutely OBSESSED. enjoy!!

masterlist

Your eyes have lingered on Scarlett most of the time. It's not like you could help it, how can she stand there and be this beautiful with her golden silk blonde hair that is sort of wavy yet so pleasant to see? You tap your index finger on your champagne glass, bringing the rim to your pinkish lips as you try to gaze at the surroundings instead. My, everything was beautiful. Scarlett has great creativity, especially when it comes to events. Every time there was a party in her new company, every piece of furniture – was organized and fresh, like brand new. She liked the brand new stuff, never old. You don't know why, but you find it neat of her.

When you looked back at her, she was staring at you from afar. Well shit, you thought to yourself and instead looked away, the embarrassment building up in your veins. You were incredibly foolish, letting yourself know that you could get away from staring. But in fact, she has caught you! My god, so irrational of you. And not even a minute later, she was approaching you with a smile – her cheeks reaching up to her eyes. You smiled back and unexpectedly, you received a warm embrace from her.

Your Daddy or Mommy issues are concerning.

She felt absolutely warm.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" she exclaims happily as she pulls away from your body, which is much to your dismay. Yet you aren't complaining like a little child. "I thought you were staying at your mom's today?"

"Oh well," you sighed, shaking your head. "Change of plans."

Did you shrug? That's stupid, why did you shrug? She must've thought you were coming off in a rude way, honestly, those aren't your intentions! Have you been thinking about this too much? Maybe, maybe...

Scarlett scratches the back of her head and stands a little closer to you, which makes your breath hitch. Although, it was pretty understandable since the crowd was thick. You look at the way she brings her whiskey glass to her mouth and asked, "Are you alone? I've been watching you and you seem... lonely."

"I didn't invite anyone else with me," you shrug politely. "I don't know, I only joined because well... I work for you."

"Sweetheart, if you are tired, then you could go back home, you know?"

The name sweetheart slips out of her mouth so easily that you barely catch it. It's almost like you want her to say it again until you think about her at night, not knowing what else to do other than slipping your fingers into your panties as you scream her name. But she doesn't know that, of course, she doesn't.

You give her a tight lip smile and shake your head once again, although you feel a little light-headed yourself. Perhaps you should go home, but you also wanted to keep talking to the older woman who's currently your boss.

"I'll have a couple more drinks."

She nods. "Have you eaten? I could bring you a plate, we could eat together."

You wouldn't oppose that. Of course, you won't. If Scarlett asks you to eat with her, you must eat with her. You can't back out from that.

You felt your throat tightening, just like the air that has been hallucinating you, as you stutter out: "S-Sure! Yes, why not? Um, yeah."

She only lets out a small laugh and brings you to the buffet area with her hand on your lower back, her mouth near your head.

You and Scarlett spent your time alone at the corner of the event, eating salads together as you talk about the previous school that you used to go to. She didn't know anything much about you, which was expected since you don't consider her your friend, but she seems merely interested in your stories. You didn't know that she could fully speak Russian, making her speak a few sentences to you as you find it very amusing to hear her speak in another language.

"That's what you get when you work for Marvel," she chuckles, sipping from her glass, which has to be her third by now. "You choose to not learn the language and say a few lines, I did. You could say that I was bored."

"Well, maybe you should start feeling bored so that you can learn a few more things." you manage to joke, making her laugh again. Without expecting anything, you felt her hand on your knee as she squeezes it gently, her eyes at the side of your head. You sit still, holding your breath as you count how long she'll put her hand there. She was close to kissing you, but you're also delusional for thinking such a thing as that. She's married, for Christ's sake.

"I'm glad I'm talking to you, everything feels so refreshing, you know? It's like you could see me as a person, and not some celebrity."

"At the end of the day we're all human," you say quietly, your fingers playing with your cold glass as you let the wetness coat the tips of your fingers. "And I find you as my boss and sort of a friend. I have a lot of respect for you."

"Is that so, Y/n?"

"Yep," you smiled sheepishly, feeling your cheeks heating up with a pinkish color as you duck your head. "I'm sorry, it's just that–this is all new to me, we don't talk like this."

She only sighs, pulling her hand away, as she sits back on the couch. There was a moment of silence, letting the noise from the crowd ingrain you before she could even speak with such a hoarse voice.

"I'll take you home tonight."

"That wouldn't be necessary–"

"Please," she interrupts you with a plea, sounding almost upset that you almost oppose her idea. You bite your lower lip in response as she continues, "Let me take you home. It's at least what I could do for accompanying me tonight."

"I guess that wouldn't hurt, right?" there was no backing out. She does want to take you home, which makes you feel even more nervous – you could feel yourself sweating already.

She smiles kindly at you and nods.

"What would be a harm on that?"

—

"You don't have to bring me to my door," you chuckle, as the alcohol-intoxicated you slowly, rummaging your hand inside your bag to find your keys. Scarlett only walks near you and presses herself against the doorway, watching you become so stressed trying to find your apartment key. "S-sorry, I'm–"

"It's okay," she whispers hotly. "I'll wait."

After what seemed like hours, your face lit up as you held the key in your palm. You opened the door with victory as you walked inside, dropping your bag onto the couch. You notice that your apartment was a bit small so you whispered to your shoulder, "I'm sorry if it's a small house, I live on my own."

"I kind of thought you were living with your mother," she said while closing the door behind her, hearing it click. You wondered why she locked the door, was she staying here longer? Either way, you didn't seem to mind. You were tired and sleepy, so you poured yourself a cold glass of water, offering her one. "Would you like a glass?"

She only shakes her head as she flops herself on the couch, lying her head back on the cushion. Replying with a deeper voice, "No. But could you sit with me?"

"O-Of course."

You didn't waste any more time and sat down slowly beside her, feeling her hand on your back once again. She seemed so touchy tonight, but she was always touchy with everyone. You thought that maybe she was doing that with everyone else, so you weren't that sort of special, but her touch seems to be so different now. As if she's hazed and drunk, not knowing what she's doing. Perhaps she is drunk, which makes your heart feel a little heavier.

"Are you going home?" you asked curiously.

"Don't you want me to stay?" dare speak to me with that deep voice once again, I could possibly throw myself at you and let yourself fuck me hard.

"Yeah," you say as you grow tired. "I just–Well, it's very late. You have taken me home. There's only one bed in my house, I don't think I could offer you one."

Maybe you were saying this to push her away, to push these nonsensical feelings away so that you could act civil with her and not some teenager who has an infatuation over an older woman. This doesn't happen often, but you do have these issues that aren't confronting you much. And when you saw her wearing that suit tonight, you could only think that your Daddy issues are growing in you and not out of you.

You were fucked up.

"Can I ask you something?" she whispers out as she shuts her eyes, sighing with her chest heaving. You whimpered out quietly, giving an answer to her question. She whispers again, but this time, this made your cunt clench. "Have you ever thought about me being alone in your house?"

First of all, you don't know how to answer that. Second of all, why is she asking you this? It was random, completely out of your relationship with her, but you couldn't help but think: was she thinking about you? Was she interested in you? Fuck, you felt your heart swirling in your drunkenness.

"I–" you felt your breath hitched again, toying your fingertips. "Um, I... yes? I mean, I'm so sorry–I just have this crush on you and I think you know now and I feel terrible–"

You should've kept your mouth shut.

This lifted her head lift a little, as she was amused by your response, deciding that she should keep talking about this. She sat up, inching closer to you, as her arm is now around your shoulders. Now, you could feel her close. Now, you feel your issues are growing stronger.

Please don't let her notice.

"I'm–"

"Tell me more."

Your face has gone perplexed. "W-what?"

Scarlett leans to your face closer – but not ultimately close – and whispers again, "Tell me more. I want to know what's in your head."

"There's," you trail down your words, murmuring to yourself how foolish you are, as you looked away from her. You tried at least because she turned your head again with the hold on your chin. She's now looking at you, and you could feel yourself squirming from her touch. "Scarlett, do you think you should go home? I don't feel so well."

"I know you have a crush on me," she teases you lightly while thumbing your cheek, she thought how pleasant and soft your skin was. "It's obvious, doll. I know."

Well, at least you could've done it with more discreetness. Instead, she knows what a possible slut you are for her – and it's a little embarrassing to even think about it.

"I'm sorry," you whined, laying your head on her shoulder as you cried out, knowing that she'll probably never talk to you this way again. "God, I should've controlled it. I'm so fucking stupid."

She lifts your cheeks up and shakes her head, shushing you quietly, then you relax your weight on her hand as she replies with a deeper tone than you've last heard. "First of all, you aren't stupid. Never to me. Second of all, don't swear at me. I don't like that."

"I'm sorry," you say, swallowing down the saliva in your throat. "I'll never swear at you again."

"Good girl, baby. I only get to swear."

She's like making you a doll in her eyes, a good little pet that could be dragged around the street. But did you complain? No. why? Because you know you'd like her dragging you around and making you her personal slut. Whore. Tiny girl. She holds your biceps as she pulls you closer to her body, letting her hand pet your hair. She kisses your forehead feverishly, as if you're a secret, and nuzzles her forehead against yours. You lift your chin up and stare into her eyes, admiring the small wrinkles that were under her eyes, and without even thinking further – you pressed your lips on hers.

What the fuck was happening?

You winced in the kiss, you felt her nibbling on your lower lip, and you couldn't help but withdraw from her sensational lips as you finally realized what you'd done. Now, you've gone insane. You stood up and panted heavily, not looking into her eyes. You know that she wanted it too, or perhaps you're delusional again to think so. Or maybe she was kissing you back out because she was flattered, you don't know.

"I think you should leave."

"My little one..."

"No," you chuckled as you felt yourself crying from your sinful acts, shaking your head and holding onto the knob for your dear life. You manage to whisper out, "You're married. I don't–I wasn't thinking, I'm very sorry. It won't happen again, but you should leave."

Scarlett only stands and cups your face, bringing you closer but you fight her with it. You keep pulling yourself back but dear god, she was stronger with you, despite all those workouts for her role that seems to be complex. You whimpered when she grounded you on the spot, bringing her lips closer to your nose and whispering with a hiss, "I don't think you should tell me what to do."

"Excuse me?" you were flabbergasted. "This is my house!"

"Not with that tone I won't," she growls, pulling my ponytail to expose my neck. You were intoxicated by her, extremely in a compelling way. "I'm not leaving. Not until I fuck the shit out of you, not until you stop being a fucking brat. You let me in, didn't you? You knew what was bound to happen."

"You're hurting me!"

"Stay still or else I'll do something worse." you did not know she can be this... different. Maybe this is the reason why you never meet your heroes, she was so violent with her tone – especially the way she grabs your hair as if manhandling you. But your cunt says otherwise, your heart says otherwise. You want her to fuck you, to make you wide open until you only remember her fingers, her tongue, her dick, whatever else is there. Before you can speak, she pushes you back down on your couch as she spreads your legs wide open for her to easily grind her pelvis against yours, leaving you out of breath.

"You don't know how much I've wanted to fuck you since the moment I met you," she purrs on your neck, groping your left breast with force. You cry with the sensation that she was giving you, you were obsessed that you couldn't stop your hips from rolling upwards. "With your shoulders and those legs of yours, I could go on for hours about how much I wanted you. Now, I have you, and you're going to be mine tonight."

"Scarlett," you gasped for air, her thumb pressing hard against your covered nipple. "You have a husband! This is wrong..."

She shakes her head, smiling faintly at you. She was intoxicated by you, as much as you are to her. With her touching you like a brothel and her tongue flicking on your skin, it makes sense how incredibly aroused she was. And boy, you were too.

"It's not baby," she whispers, knowing that she was slightly manipulating you into giving yourself to her. "It's never wrong. We were meant to do this."

"You're mine," she said, pulling your silk black dress upwards, your pink laced panties on now in full exposition. "Say it. Say that you're mine."

You let out a loud whimper when she demands you to say it, and you should say it. Not because you want to please the older woman, but because you do belong to her – without any hesitation.

"I'm yours."

Slap!

"Really?" she asked with a sinful tone, a deep voice that shrills you until you're dead, and massages your bare thigh with her calloused hand. "You're mine, all fucking mine. I don't want you near anyone, or else I'll have to punish you... which is something you don't want to look forward to."

Before you could reply, she pulls down your panties, kissing your pelvis with a deep breath. She smells you, she kisses your pubic bone, and she touches your inner thighs – which is something so undeniably sexy that you have your legs wide open, a sopping wet cunt exposed for her touch. You feel the tip of her nose pressing against your clitoris while taking a small taste from your cunt, moaning at how delicious you were.

"Didn't know you were this wet," she chuckles deeply, igniting your skin. Scarlett gets even more desperate when she gives your folds a long lick, making your back arch. "Mmph, so delicious. Gonna eat you out so good, you'll be falling apart."

"Ungh," you covered your mouth, tears rolling down from your eyes – from the pleasure – as your hand grips the side of the couch, moaning in wanderlust. She flicks the tip of her tongue on your hole, teasing it slightly before she could push her fingers inside of you, and when you were expecting her fingers; she lifts herself up. You draw your eyes open and watch as she pulls down her pants, a strap bouncing in the air. You were utterly shocked, how can something so big be so engrossing? You don't even know if that would fit inside of you, and would it?"Wait!" you stopped her from pushing in when you felt the tip on your hole, biting your lip down as you could feel the irritation. "I'm–It's too big..."

"We'll make it fit, baby." she kisses your cheek in reassurance and finally pushes inside of you with a long groan, burying her head into your neck. She holds you down, pinning you almost as if she feels her cock around your wetness. She wants to feel your walls, how they would be tight around her, but she liked the idea of fucking you with her dildo. It's almost fascinating.

"God," she rolls her eyes in the back of her head, humping you with much force. "You're so fuckin' tight."

You wouldn't lie but, you're enjoying this moment. Sure, it was huge, but you know you'd take it. Of course, you have to take it. What else are you supposed to do? You clawed her back as you wanted her lips on you, but her head was tucked into your neck, and you could feel her warm breath against your skin – damped.

"Fuck me," you begged with a whine. "Please, fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck–Agh!" Scarlett gives you shallow thrusts, almost bottoming in you, her mouth all over your chest. She continues to assault you until you are a screaming mess, the squelching noises coming from your cunt and her cock getting the woman into her climax, tightening her arms around you as she grumbles with a whisper, "I'm gonna fucking cum–fuck you feel so good!"

She moves inside of you with more pace until her torso twitches, cracking a moan in your ear as she pours out her orgasm, rubbing your clit with her thumb as you come with her. Everything felt hot and sticky, which you didn't mind. But she has put her morals aside and continued to thrust inside of you, but at a slower pace, prolonging both of your orgasms. As soon as she is done, she flops on your chest and lets out a chuckle, a wheezy chuckle.

"Fuck man," she wipes her forehead with her arm as she sits back up, watching your chest heave. "That was the hottest thing we've done. But don't you dare fall asleep, we have more work to do."

You feel livid.

#natasha romanoff x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff x you #scarlett johansson x you #black widow x reader #a’s oneshots!#scarlett johansson fic

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maliciousalice · 2 months

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@thresholdbb omg tumblr ate your ask but thankyou for asking!!!!

👕Character whose fashion you like.

Phoar! Startrek really isn't a show I associate with being fashionable. It's very camp isn't it? In theory a lot of the wardrobe is really cool and they wanted to gain that retro-future aesthetic. Did it work? I'm not sure. However it does make a statement. The Startrek aesthetic is really recognizable and that's important! I think that's where modern trek kind of looses the plot. It's not as careful about the unique visual design as a whole anymore and as a result it doesn't settle in our minds. Is it bad artistry? No but it's not as stringent. What I mean by that is older trek cared about nuance. For example every haircut was done the same way on men, or suits were tailored in a way to look sleek but practical (they weren't). Gaudy patterns were important to denote things like status. It looks ugly on the outside but when you're watching the show it envelops you and makes you feel welcomed into the universe.

I digress.

To answer this, the most fashionable character, hands down, is Quark! That mfer always looks good, and has the finest drip in the galaxy. Love that.

🥲 ST moment that makes you cry.

youtube

There are two moments that make me particularly sad. Kate's acting in the climax of Resistance is incredible. I read somewhere she had a special-wink-wink- relationship with the Director in the early seasons and she was being tested by this episode in some regard. I think it paid off. I treasure any time her captain-hood is removed, and the extreme vulnerability of Janeway is on display-MWAH MWAH poignant. This episode is beautifully intimate, particularly this scene. It's overall gorgeous and unique in how she whispers to him, as if there is nothing more important than to secure his peace of mind as he dies, and it's heart rending when it ends with her just crouching there, emotionally alone. I love how Janeway is forced into the father-daughter dynamic between her and Caylem, one that she would ordinarily resist (heh themes) because I think it inherently weakens her status. The back and forth throughout the episode of them taking care of each other's welfare is so it's terribly sad when it's torn down and we discover the truth behind Caylem's family. If you've dug around her character you know that her Admiral-Father has had impact on her life. She's haunted by him in both a figurative way by being a Captain, and literal sense later on in Coda. Much like Caylem, she looses her father in a violent manner that she has to carry around while she forges ahead. It also reflects well on Kate's relationship with her actual father, she recently revealed that she was never able to get him on her page, but in spite that she adore him with all her might. So a scene like this is really revealing-I believe she was able to draw upon those feelings and that's kinda neat to be so raw as an actor. SIGH.

This one just straight up made me cry fr because Prodigy s1 is a really mature, well done piece of (Startrek) media. Holo Janeway has an irony about it where in the end she is program designed to be a teacher, and she didn't expect to develop a strong bond with the crew. Her final moments are of displaying a huge amount of selflessness and courage to help the kids get out of trouble, similarly to how Janeway would approach dire circumstances. The music swelling and the ship activating is just OOOOF!!! I love how it parallels Dal's initiation of the first Protojump in a Moral Star. By that means It suggests how proud she is to get to do this for them. As a character she is really interesting to think about, in a way I can't entirely articulate. A lot of her moments are quite sad in general, she has to keep an active role so she isn't ignored, and help where help is needed, but at the same time she has constraints, one being that she manipulated by the antagonists. And In contrast to that, the kids do their best to help her feel like she is important and more than a command program to be used insincerely. She grew to love the Protostar crew, that's evident in her body language in this scene. She has a lot of depth overall. Equal to the real Janeway she deeply feels love, guilt and pain, but importantly she is transformed by the her time on the Protostar and while active, learns and grows with Dal, Rok-tak, Zero, Jankom and Gwyn. It's REALLY sweet that they care all care about each other.

I love her and I love JANEWAY!!!!

🥹 Favourite behind the scenes picture.

Ooooh I love all behind the scenes stuff. My brother in Christ It's super difficult to just name one thing and I'm very greedy!! I wish we had more BTS content for Voyager but sadly, it's a matter of grab what you can, however you can. Anyway, I have an inherent interest in seeing the cogs behind the wheel. I chose these samples because I think they're charming.

The continuity polaroid's are so fun and a lost technique, I like to think about assistants having to pull the actors aside and asking them to take those. How daunting! Kate's grin in the one where she is offset is SO cute. So she must have been in a good mood, super Cheeky!

Following that is a screenshot from a video of her having her makeup done. A rare catch. I like this because she often sooks about how much time hair and makeup was spent on her to become Captain Janeway. I get it's a huge time-sink, but love or hate it, the full irony is that her early season appearance is really iconic and in it's own right adds to Captain Janeway's sensibility. Silly goose Kate! Besides that, she looks hot checking herself out, haha.

Moreover, I love on-set editorial photos of actors in costume. While we did have heaps of them in the Starfleet uniform, I wish we had a larger collection with clearer releases, it would have given an opportunity to see in things of interest better detail. Particularly the lower half of unique costumes. For whatever reason special outfits weren't often established or framed for us to see the legs in the show, so a nice big photograph would have solved that. Also I love that these style of pictures capture an impression of an episode without giving it away.

Similarly, fly on the wall on-set photos are cool. They're way more intimate and candid than anything else and it makes me feel as though I am spying on the actors, but they're also a good way to document how things might have been on set.

The Timeless one is interesting too because it's of a deleted scene, we never see Chakotay look at a dead Janeway (how deliciously macabre!), but at some point in time it was in the script and they filmed it.

Hmm this bts picture of Janeway in the Cardigan is adorable! I believe it was worn by Kate for a Charity but look how cute she looks? Makes me wish we saw her mess around with things like that more because 7 Years is a long ass time to be in uniform everyday ( coming from someone who went to school in a Uniform and enjoyed it for the most part). Casual Fridays anyone?

I love this gif. It's from the first shoots of Caretaker and Kate looks so radiant! Her smile is is breathtaking! Whenever I see this gif I get a sense of delight. Poor thing had no idea what she was getting herself into, haha. Really though, check out the original Caretaker photos, they're super-cool. The history behind it is fascinating; I'd love to see more footage from that version of the pilot episode. Unfortunately, it's probably not preserved well, much like lots of Paramount's historical material.

On a similar trend, it's fun to see this set of pictures too. It's for the First Contact film / maybe the Universal studios ride, when she reprised her role as Vice AdmiralJaneway. Kate was genuinely delighted to do this cameo and it shows. As per her operandum she put her whole self into this small segment and that's so darling. It makes me wish we had more of this Janeway at that point in time. I love post Endgame chubby-Janeway. In a fictional sense it denotes that she is comfortable or stressed to be an Admiral (sadly it's the latter in real life) or whatever and I love that for her.

These kind of pictures are fun because it's been said that at times it was the most playful set to be on. There are tales that the cast were not that serious all the time. You get that impression here, and it's probably why the majority of them are still good friends to this day. They're like a family bros!!! Having worked in media I know that wrapping up after working on something for a long time is really rewarding and I bet they had a good time at parties.

Apropos previous, the opposite can be said. While they had fun, the hours were long and the scripts intensive. Kate was around for all of the episodes of Voyager in one way or another, and still managed to bring her A-game each time. She is truly admirable! Seeing her so exhausted is charming. She had a lot of weight to carry for the franchise and did an exemplary job performing her way through 7 years of weird and wonderful material. I wonder how often they fell asleep on set? I know I would. Get some rest queen!

Finally, I've been following Prodigy bts as best I can, and because of my career in animation I get pretty interested in Production art. I love seeing the fast metamorphosis of a visual style. It's really impressive how much attention they applied to the designs, maintaining the older stuff, while adapting a new frontier. One of the lead artists made some pretty neat observations to get Kate's appearance right. It's so cool that they documented that journey, because from my dabbling I know she has a very beautiful, distinct face that isn't easy to capture.

ANYWAY Thankyou for reading my fat thesis fellas. tl;dr i love this stinky Startrek Voyager and by extension the franchise.

#I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS WALL OF TEXT I HAVE A LOT TO SAY AND I THINK ABOUT THIS DARN SHOW A LOT #also my bad it's mostly voyager but it's my true love #hope you can make sense of this I'm fairly illiterate and writing is so hard for me lol that's why i write more than is probably necessary #i like the other trek shows but this one is something special if you know what i mean #appreciate you if you read all this MWAH MWAH #thankyou for the ask thresholdbb ily!!!#Thresholdbb #Kathryn Janeway #janeway #star trek voyager #star trek prodigy #st:voy #kate mulgrew #no sources for this you just gotta trust im a big fat expert :^)#i really need an editor my dyslexic-a jumbles up and forgets words when i write its so embarassing #i have a pretty large collection of pictures now but i could always use more #i also should probably save videos where i can because they get buried / removed from the internet

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moved--accs · 1 year

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glowing | lee know.

You know that your feelings for Lee Minho were past a simple crush at this point–you really couldn’t bring yourself to date other people without the constant thought that they’re not him haunting your mind. But somewhere between sly smirks and stolen glances, you knew he was intrested in you too. You also knew your brother would absolutely hate seeing his little sister with one of his best friends, but Minho won’t tell if you don’t.

Best friend’s brother!Minho, female reader. ~8.2k words.

WARNINGS: smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), very slight dom!minho i guess, one thigh slap, minho spits in reader’s mouth (i’m sorry), penetration, squirting and unprotected sex. MDNI.

Author’s note: this was requested by cait !! i love you cait !! tysm for sticking around for so long, it means the world to me <333 i really don’t know how i feel about this one since it’s my longest oneshot yet, but i hope everyone enjoys it :) also, if you like listening to music while reading, bad idea by ariana grande really helped me settle the mood for this. reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

To you, Minho is a force of nature. His stance alone demands attention in every room he walks into: sharp and seemingly judgy eyes tear people apart in the matter of a milisecond, then a sudden shift of countenance would offer a sweet, charming smile at them. But never to you. He carries a couple of years more than you on his back, experience and maturity seem to bleed through every interaction you have–promptly, and unknowingly, putting you in your place whenever you two exchange a simple, two-second glance with each other.

To you, Minho is magnetic. It seemed to be a shared secret, those glances you stole from each other. You only ever were in the same space when your older brother called his friends over, half a dozen bodies always in the way of your favorite activity–catch him looking. The way he never shied away always made you shiver. You tell yourself you broke eye contact so quickly because you were afraid someone would catch on to this ongoing staring contest, but really, you don't think you can handle to watch the smirk grow on his lips without tripping over nothing. Minho never smiled at you. It was never sweet–every single time he acknowledged you felt like a dare. With avoidant eyes and shaky hands, you played into every single one of them.

"I can drive her, man. It's no big deal." He told your brother–who was locking your home's door behind him–but his eyes didn't leave yours.

Your brother often invited you to hang out with his friends, so when he randomly showed up in your room asking if you'd like to join them for a night out, you had no reason to say no. The thing is: all the seats in your brother's car were already taken by his girlfriend and her friends, who were currently already getting comfortable in his vehicle. Minho's eyes are locked in yours, his black hair glistening blue in the moonlight making him look a bit more intimidating, much more inviting. The smirk in his lips is a telltale–as if he's challenging you to say no. You could get an Uber to the party–you know that–or you could simply tell your brother to politely ask one of his partner's friends to find another ride. Maybe that would come off as a bit rude, but you know he'd do it for you. You could even sit in one of the girls' laps, that's not unusual. He knows that, and he's looking at you as if your head is transparent, and he can see all of the cogs putting in the work.

"Are you sure? GPS is saying it's kind of a long drive, and I know you'll want to drink when we get there."

"I'm fine with taking her as long as she prefers getting an Uber or something." Minho says, turning to your brother for a brief moment, "It's up to her, really."

Forty minutes is not that long, but you know it would feel like ages.

"What do you say?" Your brother turns to you.

You've never been fully alone with him before, jumping from that to spending such long time by yourselves, in his car, seems suffocating. Too secluded. Too private. You feel the familiar shaking in your hands as they run down your skirt, straightening them.

"Fine by me."

You know you're staring–for some reason, you don't mind. Minho's eyes are focused on the road before you, midnight blue hair split in the middle, giving him a much bolder look than his usual fluffy bangs. The reflection of the city lights make his skin glow–iridescent glimmers of yellow, white and green paint his face–allowing you to get a full glimpse of his expression only for brief seconds.

He doesn't mind that you're staring either–his eyes find yours in a quick shift, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"You're not that bold when your brother's around."

You can feel your stomach turning. Straight to the point, then.

"Neither are you."

The man scoffs, looking out the window before replying. "You wouldn't be either if you heard how protective he is over you."

"I'm grown."

His head fully turns to you for the first time throughout this exchange, the empty road before him forgotten for a couple seconds. Minho's eyes shamelessly linger on your thighs as they travel up your body, until his gaze meets yours. He clicks his tongue, smirk growing on his lips right before his attention turns back to the road. "I can see that."

Effective as always, the words start fumbling in your brain as you struggle to form a coherent thought–you had to talk back. Anything.

"You're always staring at me. When you come over." Your voice is so quiet you wonder if he can hear you over the hum of wheels against concrete.

"Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No," you reply immediately, looking at him. "not at all."

He nods, humming. "Do you like how I look at you?"

Minho seems nonchalant, but also a bit expectant. The butterflies in your stomach seem like they won't allow you to answer nothing as witty as you had hoped.

"I do. You can... keep doing that."

He quickly looks at you again, smiling. "I can?" The car feels airtight after the next words lowly leave his lips. "Would you mind if I did something other than just look?"

Careful, quiet, expectant. If you stroke a match, the whole car would light on fire. "Weren't you worried about my brother?"

Your eyes are focused on the road, but you can hear the click of his tongue, "I won't tell if you don't."

The music is loud, and although enjoyable, you really can't bring yourself to focus on the party. The culprit was quick to lose you as soon as you both got to your destination, letting you know he was looking for your older brother. It seemed as if the group had gotten completely lost within the drunk crowd, and you were putting on an effort to not care about his absence, what he was doing, or who he was doing it with. But still, you could look for your brother. If Minho happened to be hanging around him, that would be purely a coincidence.

Still, your ego wouldn't give in. 'Enjoy tonight, forget about him. Dance like he's not watching–you'd get too shy if he was. Maybe I should drink, I'd feel more comfortable dancing. But I wanna stay sober tonight, though. Just in case. Forget about him.' It felt like the hardest you tried to empty your mind, the more Minho would plague it. You always feel like there's a pair of sharp eyes on you, even though you haven't seen him since you walked into this party. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, it probably was. Still, each time you sway your hips, you picture this specific set of eyes on you, studying your movements. You could feel it in the back of your neck, disappearing just in time before you turned around to catch him. If you were drunk, at least you'd have an excuse to think the way you are right now, but your only frail attempt of an excuse is how much you want him.

As it turns out, it seems like you were way too busy not looking for Minho to notice his presence before his breath touched your cheek, hand on your hip as he swayed behind you. "You're watching people walk in and out of this room like a hawk." You feel his gaze burning on your profile. "Who're you looking for? Wooseok?" He chuckles as you dramatically roll your eyes at him, "He sure as hell has been looking for you."

"I didn't even notice him, so..." Your stare back at him, immediately locked in a trance. His dark eyes seem to suck you in, everything else in the room drifting away when you focus on them.

Minho hums, bringing your back closer to his chest. "Of course you didn't." You don't fight against the way he spins you around, pressing your chest against his, lost in a sea of bodies touching each other. "You don't have eyes for anyone else, do you?"

Somewhere in the distance, too far away from the reality which Minho has sucked you into, you think you hear Wooseok calling your name. You can't really tell, though. Not when Lee Minho is looking down at you like that. Reality creeps it's way back into your mind when the man's head shoots up, apparently spotting his friend in the crowd. Minho backs up, meaning to leave the scene before he arrives. "You said you like it when I watch you." He says. "Put on a show."

Wooseok's hands are on your waist, his chest to your back. You're pretty sure he whispered something as he squeezed your hips, but you didn't quite catch it–Minho was leaning against the wall, eyes dead set on you. The poor lighting makes his gaze more intimidating as he brought a cup to his lips, eyes never leaving you. Slowly, his focus switches from your eyes to your neck. Your body rolls against the boy behind you, making sure your ass didn't touch his crotch. The only person you wanted to touch you like that is currently looking at you from across the room–his countenance seeming more and more annoyed the more you seem to enjoy Wooseok. It's your turn to smirk at him–for the first time ever, you're the one setting the game's rules. You keep your attention on Minho as you throw your head back on Wooseok's shoulder, letting him kiss down your neck.

How silly to think he'd hand the control over to you for this long. Minho brings his phone to his ear, sweetly smiling at you as he speaks. You keep dancing with the clueless boy behind you, putting on your best show for the man before you. He no longer tries to hide how long he admires your cleavage, jaw clenching each time Wooseok's hands would try to wander over your body. You'd stop him just before he reached your ass or your chest just to give Minho enough time to react–to watch the genuine annoyance on his face as someone else touched you. The butterflies in your stomach flap their wings violently at the indication that the man might be thinking about how he doesn't want no one else with their hands on you, the mere possibility of making him jealous starting to take over your consciousness. Suddenly, Minho smiles sweetly again. Way too sweetly. Before you can react, Wooseok seems to have been snatched off of your body–the heat of his back disappearing abruptly.

"Are you fucking serious, Wooseok? Out of all the people in this party?!" Oh, of fucking course. You can see Minho starts to laugh before you turn around, immediately approaching your brother. Wooseok stumbles, trying to regain balance after your brother pushed him off of you.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, alright?" You maintain you eyes focused on your brother, guiding him away from Wooseok.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?! What was that for?!" You weren't worried about an actual physical fight happening–you know both of them, and you know they wouldn't take it that far. Still, the way Wooseok raises his voice at your brother startles you.

"You're really gonna act like you don't know what that was for?"

Even though you were standing right in front of him, your brother's eyes were focused solely on the boy. "Hey, he wasn't doing anything by himself, alright?" He looks down at you, jawline clenched. "It's not a big deal."

"You don't need to pull shit like this. She's an adult, man."

"And you don't need to act like you're not always trying to pull my sister."

"What if I am? What the fuck does that have to do with you?!"

"Hey, hey, hey." Minho appears from Wooseok's side. He had a small smirk on his lips that didn't quite match the situation at hand. "Is everything alright? What's going on?"

"Nothing new, Min. He just can't keep it in his pants whenever she's around." Your brother says, gaze not budging from Wooseok's face as he tilts his head towards you.

"Chill the fuck out, alright? You're making me sound like a creep."

"I don't care. If you go after your friend's little sister you're a fucking creep."

You watch as Minho intervenes, calmly talking to both men as he attempts and succeeds to settle their nerves. His eyes switch from one side to the other, persuasive as always, convincing both of them to let it go. Your brother seems defeated when he finally turns to you. "Are you alright?"

You roll your eyes at the question. "Why wouldn't I be? He wasn't doing anything wrong."

"I don't know, you just seem tired."

"Well, yeah, obviously. This whole thing was stressful. I'm just glad nobody here gives a fuck to make a scene out of it." You sigh, looking over the crowd with crossed arms. "I'm done for tonight, though. I think I'm going home."

Your brother's demeanour is drastically different from earlier–puffed chest turned to slump shoulders, clenched jaw turned to a frown. You would feel sorry for him if this whole fiasco didn't affect directly the one thing you want so badly to happen tonight. Sure, Minho only snitched because he knew your brother's reaction would be bad–but you wonder if it was somehow worse than he imagined, if this whole headache was worth it. If you were worth it. All you know is you'd argue with your brother a million times if it meant Minho would touch you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I can give you a ride." You're about to deny your brother's offer, but Minho never loses a single opportunity.

"Really? You wanna leave already?" He asks the boy.

"Not really. I wanna stay. But if I ruined the night, then-"

"You can stay, man. I can take her. I was about to head home, anyway."

"He's right." You're learning how to follow his lead. "I don't want you to leave because of me."

Your brother looks at Minho and then at you. The air the three of you share seems heavy all of a sudden, the forced proximity due to the push and pull of the crowd suddenly suffocating. But then, your brother smiles. "I really owe you one, man."

Minho's touch on your wrist as he guides you out of the party lights your skin on fire, anticipation eating up your nerves. You wonder if you'll make it to his house at all–you hope you don't. You hope he gets so desperate to touch you he doesn't care who's seeing, you hope he fucks you in his car and when you get to his house and when you wake up the morning after.

But that's just wishful thinking–that's your brain and your anticipation and your yearning yelling at the top of its' lungs, begging for the man who's leading you down the street to look your way so he can see the sheer desperation in your eyes. But Minho's not like you at all. And he's not like the million versions your mind made him out to be, either. Minho is cool, collected. Years of being around him and you've never seen him lose composure, and your gut feeling tells you you won't see it tonight.

Charming as always, he opens the door to the passenger seat when you finally reach his car. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as he starts driving, waiting for him to give you any sign of a confirmation that this is really going where you think it is.

"You look nervous." His hair was messy from how much he pushed it back throughout the night–repeating the motion now, eyes fix on the road, a few buttons now loose on his shirt. He looked more relaxed and it blew your mind how he managed to end the night looking better than how he started it. "There's no need to be. I can just take you home, if that's what you want."

"So... that wasn't the plan all along?" The breathiness of your voice, or perhaps the words that were attached to it, make the man chuckle, quickly stealing a glance from you.

"The plan is whatever you want it to be."

The car falls silent, his open invitation hovering over you as the street lights colour the beautiful boy beside you like a blank canvas. You wondered how on earth your body was able to prevent itself from lighting on fire–you could feel your fingertips burning with pure want, skin attracted to his like magnet. As every inch of your being desperately tried to keep your composure, you were able to mutter an answer just above a whisper. "I just-" You swallow the lump in your throat, "I'm waiting for a green light, Min."

You both know that's bullshit, and Minho's smile proves that. You have been known he was interested in you, but the sheer intimidation you felt every time he looked your way had you convinced that you would never, in a million years, make a move on him. Minho can't help but find it adorable–the way you'd squirm in your seat to avoid looking at him, hands fidgety every time he talked to you, eyes shaky every time he caught you looking. Your body language was screaming for him every second he was around, but this drawn out torture was too delicious for him to just give in to without watching you struggle first. He smirks to the road ahead of him, chuckling before replying. "You have one now. What are you gonna do with it?"

You whimper, and his eyes switch to you for a moment as fast as lighting. "Can't you just..." You trail off, hips settling further on his passenger seat.

"Can't I just...?"

"Make things easier for me?"

He chuckles, "And where's the fun in that, pretty?"

Your body leans slightly towards him before you can process it, desperation finally catching onto your sanity. You're doe eyed as your torso turns towards his direction, demanding attention which he, obviously, doesn't give you. "I want you to take me home, Min."

"I'm doing that."

"No, I-" your heart beats so loud in your eardrums you can't really hear the next words leaving your mouth–that might be the sole reason why you were able to say them. "I want your hands on me."

His hand immediately lands on your thigh, groping the flesh as he hummed, focus still on the road. Your foolish heart soars at how fast he reacted, and even though your shaky voice leaves you in no position to tease him, you can't help yourself. "You seem eager."

He raises an eyebrow when he looks your way, detaching his palm from your skin and tracing his fingertips up your inner thigh until your breath hitches in your throat. He chuckles at your gasp, hand now gripping your thigh again. "Do I?"

Your legs spread instinctively, making the man hum in satisfaction, stealing a glimpse of your thighs every once in a while. As he gets bolder, you get more desperate–the anticipation making your cunt flutter around nothing, watching as his fingers get closer to where they belong. You quietly whine his name when his hand slips under your dress, middle finger tapping your clothed core. He laughs at you as his other hand turns the wheel. "You don't know how long I've been wanting to get you like this- all shy and whiny for me." He explains, finger tracing your clothed slit ever so slightly, feeling the fabric dampen. "Did dancing with Wooseok get you this excited?"

You stutter when you reply, unable to look away from his hand moving on your crotch, "No, no. I- kept thinking about you."

He nods, an understating hum settles on his throat, voice as calm as ever. "That's why you kept looking at me? Wish it was me dancing with you instead of him?"

"Yeah, you... I always think about you, when I feel like this..." You can't help squirming when he applies more pressure to your clit, circling the nerve with the tip of his finger.

"Then you know it should've been me touching you like that." A whine almost escapes your throat when you hear the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

"I didn't let him touch me, though." You admit. Minho's eyebrows shoot up, wordlessly questioning you. "He was really close, but his body wasn't really... Touching mine. My back was against his chest, but that's it." You know you don't really owe Minho an explanation, but you've always felt this need to let him know he's the only one who makes you feel drunk in desire. You want him to know he shouldn't worry about competition because he doesn't have any.

When these words reach Minho's ears, his fingers push your underwear to the side, spreading your wetness through your slit. A reward. "This is all me, then?" He says, referring to your arousal. "It's all for me?"

You nod as you take deep breaths–trying to accommodate your body to the foreign feeling that is having his hands on you after wanting him for so long. You can feel shivers awakening all across your skin and you can only hope he won't tease you for it, knuckles hurting from gripping the cushion beneath you. "Yes, you know I only have eyes for you."

His focus doesn't detach from the road when he smiles, fingers swiping the wetness from your slit directly to your clit, quickening the pace. Your hips keep stuttering despite your efforts to keep them in place, he notices your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it turned to the window–even though he wasn't looking at you, you still felt the need to hide from his eyes.

"You won't be able to hide when I get you under me." His calm voice comes out as a purr, a hum vibrating on his throat as his finger's pace stays consistent. "Gonna spread you out in my bed and make you keep your eyes on me as I fuck the shyness out of you." You shut your thighs around his wrist, making him force them open and earning a slap to your inner thigh. Your head spins as you let out a groan, legs parting as far as they physically can for him, hips rising from the seat slightly when his touch finds you again. "Stop squirming." He says, tone noticeably more demanding than before.

You struggle to reply through compressed moans, "I'm sorry, I can't- 's too much."

"Too close?" He asks as your thighs start to shake, and you pray to whoever might be listening to please, please don't let him stop.

The confirmation comes out in hurried whispers. "Yeah, close, close."

"Already? So easy to please, pretty." The embarrassment tensing your muscles gets mixed with pleasure. Your eyes shut tightly, head thrown back on his head restraint, focusing on the feeling of his fingers and getting high on the sound of his voice. "Hope you can take a couple more rounds."

With that, Minho's ministrations become quicker, rougher–his middle and index finger making a mess of your arousal all over your clit, careful to not let his pace relent when you start moaning for him, thighs shuddering around his wrist.

Even though you were able to feel your orgasm slowly creeping up on you, it's intensity gave you whiplash. Minho's presence was the only thing tangible in the back of your mind as your hips bucked against his hand–mind so clouded your loud moans felt distant as your body squirmed in place, heat flowing through your skin.

The car feels like it’s reached forty degrees when you manage to get the feel of your limbs back, window beside you completely fogged by your laboured breathing. Minho's hand is still in your pussy, leisurely coating your arousal through your folds. You miss the way he smiles when he eases two fingers into you for the first time, head thrown back once again as your mouth drops open. A whine of his name makes him chuckle once again.

"Don't worry, I'm not making you come again until we get home." He says, barely above a whisper, taking a moment to watch his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. "Just wanna feel you for a bit."

You don't know how long the torture lasts until you reach Minho's place–the car ride felt entirely too short but unnecessarily long. He kept his fingers curled upwards, switching from hard, slow pushes to quick ones–leaving just his fingertips inside to slowly push them in again, massaging your cunt to quickly pulling in and out of you so fast you knew his wrist would be sore by the end of the night, but Minho didn't really seem to mind. In fact, he almost looks bored–lazily averting his gaze from the road to look your way every now again, breaking into a smirk every time he stilled his fingers buried deep inside of you when you sounded like you were having too good of a time.

When he parks, Minho nonchalantly brings his fingers, that were inside you a millisecond ago, to his mouth and starts licking them clean as he picks up his keys and phone with his free hand, then hops off the car.

Your headspace is cloudy, but you’re present enough to register him opening the door for you and taking you by the hand, leading you inside the building.

When he finally kisses you, Minho is gentle. The warmth of his covers beneath you is almost as comforting as the softness of his pouty lips carefully meeting yours–months upon months of yearning finally ceasing. Although he already made you cum, although you enjoyed all the crude things leaving his lips–this is what you were really longing for. Suddenly, whatever happened in his car just a few minutes prior is forgotten–the butterflies in your stomach soaring as you open your mouth for his tongue to make home.

Minho cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin as his lips move against yours–the weight of his body pinning you against his mattress. His hand on your jaw helps him control the kiss as you follow his lead, soft hums of satisfaction coming from both of you the longer Minho’s tongue insists in tasting yours. You don’t know how long he kisses you, you don’t know how long your eyes stay closed. Your body feels as light as a feather when his hands start caressing your sides, lifting your dress up to your waist.

You're pure heat when Minho's hands palm your ass, kneading the skin as his kisses lower their way from your lips to your neck. You shudder under him, sighing to the feeling of him biting, then lolling his tongue over the bruise–almost like he purposefully wanted to leave a mark. Several marks. Minho easily restrains your attempts to squirm away from his mouth, relishing in your needy whines as he kisses lower down your body–smirk permanently stuck on his countenance growing wider each time your fingers, which were lazily massaging his scalp, tugged on his locks.

Minho gulps when he finally allows you to separate from him and take off your dress–his focus now entirely on your bare torso laying back down before him. His cock twitches in his pants, which suddenly feel way too tight and less appropriate to the situation at hand. He practically drools as he positions himself between your legs–both elbows planted on the bed as he gripped each side of your thighs. Minho realizes that if he has you under him, he's way too far gone to notice anything else–quiet cries and whines that sneak their way out of your lips ring loud on his ears, making him all the more eager to have you fucked out of your mind–pretty mouth constantly hanging open, unable to suppress all the sounds he yearns to hear.

A moan escapes your lips when you realize where he's leading this, but you can't help but protest, hips stuttering in his hold. "I want you inside, Min."

He hums in agreement as he slowly kisses up your right thigh, low voice muffled by your skin. "Gonna make you come on my tongue first."

"But I'm all stretched out, you already made me come back in the car-" you part your legs wider for him, inviting, trying your best to be convincing, "just want your cock, Minho. Please."

His chuckle is so adorable it almost throws you off the haze, but it’s only a second until his eyes darken again. “No, baby. I got you so wet I think I’ve earned a taste. It’s only fair."

Thankfully, the eagerness you’ve been felling for the past hour or so seems to finally catch up to Minho. Heaven knows you wish you were strong enough to watch him–pouty plump lips that usually look so adorable in your eyes now become the eighth deadly sin. Head thrown back and eyes closed, you can somehow fell the room spinning in the back of your head when the tip of Minho’s tongue meets your folds, gently tracing along your slit. You feel the goosebumps waking up along your skin, clueless hands stroking his locks.

To Minho, you’re a force of nature. You always have been. A walking magnet, clueless to the effect you had on people just by blinking your pretty lashes at them, at him. Shy but curious eyes, voice remarkbly confident and enthusiastic when you interacted with everyone else but him–an outgoing girl becoming a stuttering mess each time he walked into a room. Minho knew you would absolutely ruin him the moment he saw you. Now it’s only fair he ruined everyone else for you, too.

It feels surreal to have you under him on the very same bed he came so many times to the thought of you, but his imagination could never top reality–you feel warm and soft on his tongue, wetness leaking out of you with every swipe of the muscle over your slit. His ministrations are featherlight against you, but as always, your reactions are what really get to Minho. Your back arches off the bed anytime he adds the smallest bit of pressure to his licking–he can feel the shivers as he runs his hands from your hips, that are constantly trying to stutter away from him, up your thighs.

Minho's own hips rut against the mattress when he finally allows his tongue inside. A loud, strangled moan leaves your lips and now it's his turn to shiver–your soft, needy cunt flutters around the muscle as he licks upwards, lolling his tongue, drinking everything you give him. His head spins as he gets drunk off of your scent, your taste, your moans–he doesn't even realize how fast his tongue has been moving inside of you until you let out a specially long whine.

Restlessness starts stirring up on your core, the intense tingling on your insides making you want to both roll your hips into Minho's mouth and squirm away from him at the same time. His grip on you was iron–veiny hands keeping your thighs spread, fingertips digging into your skin every time your legs instinctively tried to shut around him. Your mind becomes smaller and smaller as the pleasure builds up–consciousness barely there to hear the sinful sounds coming from Minho's mouth. His eyes are closed as his tongue massages your cunt, lapping up every last bit of your arousal and spreading it all over your cunt when he flattens his tongue on your slit, licking upwards to your clit. You feel your whole body tremble when he starts to circle the tip of his tongue against the bud, slowly at first, eyes now open to watch the way your body quivers to his ministrations. Splayed out over his bed, back arching off the bed constantly and grabby hands pulling into his locks, the pillow, his covers–any touch that could distract you just a bit from the alarming amount of pleasure you were whining your way through.

Minho can't help the mess–his head tilting every now and again, slowly stroking his tongue on your clit as his plush lips sucked it into his mouth. He could see the wetness dripping down your ass and pooling into the mattress–he could feel your arousal all over his lips and chin, the tip of his nose nudging your clit when his tongue snakes it's way inside you again. He started eating you out mostly with your pleasure in mind, but now as he notices your moans getting muffled by the loud sounds coming out of where you two connect, he realizes that he won't be able to go a single day without not wanting to have his face between your legs. Hell, he was so close to edging you just so he could eat you out longer–keep you bucking your hips into his face as you grew more desperate for release each time, his tongue reaching deeper inside due to the force with which you'd roll your torso towards him. But he still wants to finish the night inside you, and by the way your entire body is trembling and how loud you've been moaning, Minho reckons he has to be nice if he wants you to take another round.

So, he carefully builds up your pleasure–lips insistent around your clit as the tip of his tongue flickered the bud, finding humour on how your body tried to thrash around the bed but couldn’t do much due to his grip on your waist. Minho smiles around your cunt when your legs start shaking violently, hips attempting to raise off the bed simply because it was too much–his mouth is warm and soft, his movements so precise it startles you how quickly he took in your reactions, learning exactly what you like in no time. Either that, or he’s just Minho, and that’s just how his alluring aura manifests itself in every aspect of his life. Luring you in, hypnotizing you, locking you in his trance. A siren.

Your head rolls as further back as it can over his pillows, eyebrows furrowed as your mouth hanged open–you don’t know how loud you were moaning, you can’t tell if you were moaning at all. Your brain was mush as your orgasm thrashed through you–Minho keeping your hips in place as your limbs gain a life of their own. The only parts of your body you could feel were the ones where his touch was burning into you, numb to anything else but the man between your legs.

He coaxes you through your high, thumb stroking your skin and keeping the stimulation consistent until your body relaxed onto the bed–chest heaving with laboured breathes. Minho doesn’t look so composed himself as he kneels between your legs, taking his own shirt off before laying on top of you. His ears, neck, chest are beet red–face glistening with reminiscents of you and drowsy eyes scanning over your body, hands landing one on your waist, the other on your cheek, elbow supporting his weight on the bed.

You mindlessly lean into his touch, cupping his hand on your cheek and dragging it closer to your mouth until you were able to suck his thumb into your lips, sleepy eyes locked on his. You were growing addicted to his smirk and the darkness of his room and the pretty stars you could see through his open window–already able to tell he would haunt every single one of your dreams.

“Desperate little thing.” He coos, voice so sweet you suspect he was mocking you. He chuckles at your whine–eyebrows furrowed to express indignation, “What do you want?”

Suddenly popping his finger out of your mouth, you raise your neck off the bed in order to bite his lower lip, bringing him closer to you. When he follows, you lay your head back on the pillow and open your mouth up wide, tongue sticking out for him. Minho clicks his tongue, eyebrows raised as he looked down at you for a few seconds, smile growing wider. Then, his hand cups your jaw, holding your mouth open as his saliva drips down from his lips to your tongue. A sigh leaves you when you're finally able to taste him, relaxing your body on the bed as you swallow what he gave you. Minho watches you with a humoured, curious countenance–eyebrows raised and eyes fix on your lips when your tongue licks over them, as if you were chasing the very last trace of his flavour.

Minho didn't even process that your mouth opened again, and he doesn't process that he's already obliging–your chin tilted upwards, eager to taste him once more. The man's body seems to be moving in autopilot along with yours–both minds completely clouded, unable to form any coherent thoughts, making pure desire the only motivation to each of your actions.

You look hauntingly beautiful under him–countenance mostly darkened but your features still striking under the city lights coming from outside. You stared up at him with black, dilated pupils and eyes half open, as if you were trying to look past his consciousness and make home inside the depths of his mind, engraving the memory of tonight onto his brain for as long as you possibly could. Like you wanted him addicted.

Minho's lips clash onto yours, constant moans swallowed by one another as you desperately tried to touch more and more of each other–not a single inch forgotten. He soothes the goosebumps on you skin, hands caressing from your hips to your waist a couple times before his palms find your breasts. Minho feels dizzy when you moan his name, arching your back to seek his warmth.

Eager as always, you roll your hips against his–spread legs allowing your cunt to finally get the slightest friction from his cock. Your vision is blurry and you can't tell when you started tearing up, but the harshness with which Minho was grinding his clothed crotch against your naked cunt was the trigger for the first tear to run down your face. You were sensitive and the pleasure was overwhelming, but you still could feel your pussy fluttering around nothing, needing Minho inside.

"You're making a mess on my jeans, pretty." He mumbles against your mouth.

You struggle to breathe out, "Take them off, then."

Having sex wasn't anything new to you, but having sex with Minho feels like a completely different experience. You don't understand the headspace you're in nor are you able to dwell on what it could be–the only things you can fathom is Minho's warm body pressed up against yours and how safe and comfortable you feel. And how, when he suddenly kneels to take his jeans off, you feel so lonely and vulnerable tears flutter out of yours eyes, reaching for him with a whine of his name.

In a matter of seconds, Minho holds both your hands and comes back to his past position above you, shushing your mindless, whiny whispers with soft kisses all over your face as his thumbs caressed the skin of your hip and your cheek.

"Are you still with me, baby?" He never looked at you the way he is right now. He doesn't look confident, but in awe. Vulnerable. Like he knew this moment was a miracle and that it probably shouldn't happen again, and he, for once in his life, was allowing himself to wear this vulnerability.

You nod, eyes locked into his as you roll your hips, moaning when you feel his hard-on against you. He sighs, his underwear now being the only thing between you two, circling his hips as he asked. "Maybe we should take a break, hm?" His lips find your neck, distracting you from protesting. "Get you some water."

You barely find the strength to whisper "No, Minho, need you to fuck me. Please, I need you so bad."

You swear all the stars fall out of the sky and onto Minho's bed when you finally feel him whole. After a while of teasing you with his tip, he sinks into you with ease, both mouths hanging open in a symphony of loud moans he'd probably get complaints about.

Soft whimpers of his and your own fill the room, you feel fire lingering on each place he touches and Minho swears the universe begins and ends with each lazy, slow stroke of his hips. At this moment, he can't conceptualize the existence of anything else besides him and you. You and your constant, high moans of his name. You and your face contorted in pleasure and your needy, grabby hands. Your wet heat greedily sucking him in, trying to keep him. You and your timid gaze when he entered a room, stuttering over your words, shy smile forcing its way into your clueless lips. You, you, you.

His hands dig marks into your hips, keeping you in place as he moved above you. His thrusts were timed, consistent, and although leisured, you still bounced with each of them–his cock ripping deeper into you. Minho couldn't physically bring himself to stop kissing you–tongue roaming your open mouth, noisy kisses joining the night's soundtrack of moans and the slapping sound of his hips against your ass.

Minho felt like he ascended closer to heaven each time you moaned his name–nails digging into his shoulder blades in your own way of claiming him. He could see the desperation in your teary eyes, endless begging leaving your wet lips and shaky legs wrapped around him in a weak attempt to keep him close. Your hips, that were once bouncing off of his now lay tired on his mattress, no longer having the strength to meet his thrusts or squirm away from them. Your lips had his spit all over them and it looked like every ounce of your morality left your conciousness with every snap of his hips. Although pretty, you weren’t nearly as gone as he pictured in the times which he fucked his hand to the thought of you–the way you lay under him right now sits very closely to his visions, but Minho is a perfectionist.

"Arch your back for me." He says, although he’s the one to actually pull your waist off the bed, “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He shoves a pillow between you and the bed and the angle instantly changes, your insides squeezing his stilled cock. Your eyes are shut tight when he whispers right by your ear, pulling your arms around his neck. “Hold on tight, pretty.”

His hold on you grew impossibly tighter as he whipped his hips against yours–thrusts so deep yet so quick that you could no longer contain the pornographic cries leaving your open mouth. Your existence narrows to nothing but open legs spreading wider for Minho to fuck into as his own narrows into being a mere tool for your pleasure–your entire senses of self were, in that moment, engulfed whole by one another.

This amount of pleasure is so foreign to your body it completely shuts down when you try to react, utter nonsense leaving your lips when you try to let the man above you know you’d never felt like this before–no one’s ever made you feel like your soul was drifting away from you whilst simultaneously spiking all of your senses so violently, making your skin hot to the touch. You completely miss most of the words leaving his lips, laboured breathing giving away both exhaustion and pleasure.

“A little cockdumb, are you?” He says, his own voice muffled by the constant noise of his hips smacking against you. “My sheets are fucking drenched in you, baby. You take it so fucking good.”

He's hitting your spot perfectly, the pillow helping him reach even deeper inside you. Minho's pace didn't allow you to breathe for a single second, your pussy desperately clenching around him as you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to explode–it's intensity so intimidating you start involuntarily shaking your head, legs shaking besides Minho's hips and moans getting drawn out, whiny, louder.

Your hips come back to life, stuttering messily when he presses a thumb to your clit–your hands fly to his biceps nails digging on his skin, surely to leave marks of your own.

"Come on, pretty. Gonna come all over my cock, hm? Gonna claim it?"

Claim it. Claim it. Mine, you're mine. If this was anyone else, you'd me embarrassed that that's what pushed you over the edge. But it's Lee Minho, and he just said out loud the one thing you want the most in the entire world, even if it was in a drunken haze.

Your head is numb as your body pushes through your orgasm–pleasure hits your body in violent shockwaves that leave you shuddering, not giving you a second to recover until they hit you again. You're able to tell that Minho's moans got way louder, and the thrusts of his hips now have a squelch to them. It's only after a few seconds you're able to feel the wetness all over your crotch, even reaching up to your hips and belly, due to the force of Minho's thrusts as you squirted.

You feel full, completely satisfied and overly sensitive, but Minho was never not welcome between your legs. So, you lazily drape your arms around the man's neck and pull him towards you–tip of his nose touching yours, hooded eyes fix on hooded eyes. Your mouth is still open for him, moans now quiet but still constant as his thrusts grew erratic. Minho, on the other hand, was being so loud you hoped to God his roommate wasn't over. Not just his moans, but the ferocity of his hips now combined with the wetness made a noise so loud it'd be borderline unbearable to anyone else but you two.

But you really couldn't care less, not when Minho looks like a greek god above you. Perfect eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes burning into yours, every vein on his reddened neck prevalent and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, pouty lips hanging open exposing his–in any other situation– adorable teeth, but now you just wanted him to sink them in your skin.

"So good, so good..." You mindlessly blabber, that was the most you could do for him right now.

"Is it? Yeah? You just showed me how good it feels, ah. Squirting all over my cock, fuck."

"Do I feel good?"

His head drops to your shoulder, burying his face on your neck. "Perfect. Fuck, like you were made for me. Want this pussy all for myself."

"Have it, then." You struggle through moans, "I don't want anyone else, Min."

His hand takes the pillow under your waist and throws it somewhere in the room–snaking one hand under your waist to arch you for him as the other stroke his cock only once, enough to paint your stomach and breasts in his white stripes. Minho is shuddering as he collapses above you, face finding home in your neck again. You feel him shifting over you somewhere in your sleepy state, after a while passes. Your whine in protest makes him chuckle.

"I have to clean you up, angel." You ignore the way your insides turn due to the new petname and pulls his kneeling figure towards you again.

"Stay a little longer."

"A little longer?" He whispers, looking at your lips as he lays above you.

Minho hums when you kiss him, gently cupping your chin and guiding you through it. His tongue was soft, slow and addictive–after him, you can't really picture yourself kissing anyone else.

"I'm gonna talk to your brother." He tries to play it nonchalant, but his eyes are closed and his ears turn pink as he whispers his confessions through peppered kisses across your face.

"Really?" You can't help how hopeful your whisper sounds.

"Yeah, of course." His voice suddenly changes to an annoyed tone, clicking his tongue. "Gonna have a talk with Wooseok, too. Asshole." Your chest flutters with laughter as he curses under his breath, heart beating out of your chest as he kisses your cheekbone, then your jaw, tone suddenly soft again. "Wanna make you mine."

Your eyes flutter shut for a second, an embarrassing attempt to hold back tears. "I already am, Min."

#i read wedding season by ballelino and now pretty is the only petname i can picture minho ever using #lee minho smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

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Your special someone

Eddie Roundtree × Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Hey could u possibly do an imagine with Eddie where y/n is graham and Billy’s sister and she just tours with the band and like one day she’s just sitting out on her own lowkey on the verge of tears cause she’s scared of what Billy’s becoming with his addiction so Eddie sees her and holds her and they have a moment and start to get closer and more touchy with each other (cuddly) and when billy goes to rehab her and Eddie take a trip together to wherever (you decide) and then Eddie confesses that he’s in love with her and she also confesses? You can add whatever u want but that’s just the general basis of it.

✧.* summary — Your brother's addiction to drugs made you more and more worried about him, you looked for a way to make him better, and in that moment of anguish the person who supported you the most was Eddie. And over time your relationship grew into something more.

✧.* warnings — mention of drugs, addicted Billy, maybe some mistakes in the timeline of the book (sorry about that).

✧.* word count — 2.4k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I love writing declarations of love, this one made my heart warm. Hope you like it <3

Being the sister of two rockstars was the biggest wish of all those people who were screaming for The six out there, but for you your brothers were much more than rock stars, they were what kept you sane, your foundations. Billy, Graham and you were always very close, and since you were little you always took care of each other.

Your love for them was something so big that you didn't have words to explain, even with all the mistakes - especially Billy's - you weren't able to stay upset with them for long.So when they told you they were going to LA to further the band's career your heart almost broke at the thought of being away from them for so long. You then talked to your mother and with the help of your brothers you convinced her to let you go with them.

Being with them throughout this trajectory filled your heart with pride, you could hardly believe that at that moment you were backstage at one of their concerts that was sold out. Words weren't enough to express your pride in them, and seeing them wearing the clothes you made was even more rewarding.

However, as unfortunately not everything is always happiness, you had spent the last days of the tour extremely worried about Billy. The last few days he was clearly overindulging in drugs and booze, even bringing you flashbacks of your father… The fight with Camila had sparked a much bigger drug craving in the older Dunne, he couldn't seem to stop and it was more and more visible.

Graham Dunne: Y/N tried to warn me, but we didn't really understand what addiction was back then. I thought he would recover with time, that it was just a relapse.

Y/N Dunne: I knew he was in bad shape, I didn't recognize my brother anymore... And if I'm honest with you, I was terrified.

Billy was once again snorting another line of cocaine, and watching your big brother do this made your heart clench in frustration.

"Billy, don't you think it's enough?" Concerned, you approach him, touching his shoulder.

"Are you my mother now?" He says rolling his eyes, pulling away from you. "I know when to stop, you don't have to take care of me."

He says as he walks away from you, staggering a little while feeling the effect of what he used. Not knowing what to do, you sit down, worried about what it all could cause later, the consequences of it all. They had just played the last song, the crowd's celebration was thrilling, and you knew you couldn't stay to watch your brother tear himself apart like he always did at the end of every show.

So you decided to take some time alone, you needed to think about how to help him, and since Graham didn't want to instruct you or at least think of something to solve it, you felt helpless… It wasn't like you could call your mother for help, after all she was in Pittsburgh and Billy was old enough for her to be able to force him to stop.

Eddie had become one of your best friends over the years, you were very close and he knew your concern for Billy and how it was affecting you. He had thought and even tried to talk to Billy about it but as usual he didn't listen to the blonde, so all he could do was try to calm you down, make you feel better.

As soon as Roundtree comes down from the stage, his eyes look for you, when he notices your absence he starts to worry because he knew that you always liked to be there at the end of the shows to congratulate them.

"Warren, have you seen Y/N?" the bassist asks.

"No man, did something happen?" Rojas asks, noticing his friend's worried expression.

"Thank you" he says not answering the drummer's question, heading towards the open part of the place hoping to find you there.

It was already half past midnight, the moon lit the streets along with the streetlights and you cried when you thought about the state your brother was in, it's very difficult to see someone you love with all your heart and soul in a situation like that, and the fear of losing him became more and more alive in you.

You sobbed while letting the tears escape, it was as if you were getting rid of, or at least trying to, a weight that had tormented you for many days. You wanted to have the solution for Billy, you wanted to be able to help him but your hands were tied.

Eddie saw you sat with your hands on your face, his chest tightened to see you sad like that, he cared about you in a way he couldn't explain and he hated when anything made you feel bad. The bassist was in love with you for a long time, he loved every detail about you and would probably do anything to see you well.

He approaches you slowly, expecting you to notice his presence, but you didn't. Roundtree reaches out his arm to poke your shoulder, You wipe your tears in an attempt to hide it from whoever was there, but when you notice it was him you smile weakly shaking your head, showing him that you weren't fine… that you needed him there.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" He whispers, waiting for your confirmation.

"Of course Ed'' You reply, holding out your hand for him to take, which he does.

"I hate seeing you like this…" He says, lacing his fingers through yours. "What can I do to help you, love?"

You smile at the nickname, you two had this way of treating each other which you decided not to name, you had a relationship that with all the characteristics could be called loving, but the two of you for some reason didn't want to risk making things different by talking about.

You were very affectionate with each other, hugs, nights sleeping together, cuddling and sometimes some make out sessions.

"I wanted so much to help him Eddie" Without holding back the tears you say, laying your head on his shoulder. "I hate seeing him like this, I feel so useless"

"Oh my love, you do your best for him" He says, enveloping you in a hug where you knew you could feel safe. "If you want I can help you with that idea you had"

Last night while you were in bed, you told Eddie your idea to call Teddy Price to help Billy, you were sure he would listen if it was Price who told him to control himself. The only problem is that you had no contact with him, and you had no idea how to get in contact with him without Billy knowing.

You watch him closely, the tears in your eyes started to fall you felt so supported by him, you know he would always be there for you. Relieved you let out a sigh, hugging him tighter. He hugs you back, stroking your back assuring you as much as he can that he'll be always there for you.

"You can count on me for whatever you need." He says, placing a kiss on your head. "I'll talk to Warren, he might know his number or where he is."

"I don't even know how to thank you." Eddie noticed that you were much more relieved the more you talked.

"I know…" He says smiling, you take your gaze to him. "Let's rest? I want you to be at peace with all of this, I'll sort it out. Do you trust me?"

"With my life" You smile, planting a kiss on the bassist's cheek.

…

It had been a few weeks since Billy had been in rehab, and although the fact that he was away was something that made you anxious you knew it was for his own good and that was enough. With Billy's absence the shows were cancelled, and they had to pass back the money the record company gave them, and with this free time you all took the opportunity to take a break before looking for any job.

Warren was obsessed with the boats that were around there, and he didn't spend a day away from the beach to have any chance of getting on one. Graham spent half his time with Karen, and although they swore no one knew about them, you knew your brother… you knew he was madly in love with her.

And you were now packing your bags for a trip with Eddie, you didn't have a lot of money for an extraordinary trip, but when he told you the idea of going to a cabin just the two of you your eyes lit up with excitement. Eddie and you were in that friends-with-benefits thing, and although you wanted to make it official the fear of losing him spoke louder, after all Eddie was a rock star and rock stars didn't date seriously, you thought.

So besides the invitation to the trip that took you by surprise, you couldn't wait to be alone with him enjoying each other's company.

"Are you ready beautiful?" He asks, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Almost Eddie, give me just a second" You open the closet, taking a few more things to complete your checklist. "Now I'm ready."

You turn to him, smiling with excitement the blonde places a kiss on your lips and looks you from head to toe

"You are wonderful..." He takes your hand, heading towards the exit with your bag in the other free hand.

After an hour of travel you arrived at the cabin, it was very cozy and would certainly be a great house for you that weekend. Inside, the decor was super characteristic, several vinyl records hanging on the walls, a fireplace with some armchairs around it. Upstairs is just the suite where you were going to sleep, you went up the stairs excitedly throwing yourself on the bed.

"Eddie this is amazing! I'm in love with everything here" You take your gaze to the window behind the bed, which had a wonderful view of the forest and lake beyond you.

"I'm glad you liked it my love" He lays down next to you on the bed, holding your hand he brings it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. "It's always good to get away from problems with you"

You turn onto your stomach, looking tenderly at the blonde he smiles as he takes a closer look at your face, he was madly in love with you.

"If I could I would stay with you here forever" You approach him, kissing his nose. "So what? What are the plans for today?"

You and Roundtree had spent the afternoon enjoying each other's company, you danced together, he played a few songs while you ventured out to sing a little, then you decided to prepare things for dinner. And now, with only the moonlight illuminating you, the two of you were sitting in the cabin's backyard.

Just you and the noises of nature, you were sharing a bench you snuggled between the bassist's legs getting a cuddle from him, keeping your eyes closed. Eddie watches you, not believing that someone as wonderful as you was there with him, he didn't believe he was the lucky man who had the chance to hold you in his arms.

However, the thought that you could be with anyone else came to the blonde's mind after all... You weren't official. He knew you wouldn't do something without talking to him first, he trusted you, but the thought that someone could have the courage he didn't have to declare himself to you made him despair.

"I need to tell you something" The bassist says, making you open your eyes and watch him carefully.

"You can say it, I'm here for you." You say, smiling in an attempt to calm the boy who had a rapid heartbeat at this point. "You know I won't judge you or anything…"

"Y/N I can't pretend this doesn't affect me in a different way anymore" He lets out, making you startle at his choice of words.

"What do you mean?" You shift in the chair to look into his eyes.

"I can't pretend that I'm not in love with you baby." He concluded, now making your heart skip a beat. "I am in love with every detail that shapes you, I'm crazy about your smile, you're the most talented person I know, and also the kindest person ever...I mean, you can be nice to Billy! This is the hardest thing a human being can do."

He says making you laugh with the last sentence, slapping the bassist on the shoulder saying non-verbally "hey, that's my brother!"

"There is no one that makes me feel the way you do, and you know I'm terrible at showing what I feel, and even worse trying to put my feelings into words, but when it comes to you… fuck, Y/N! I can change the world just to see you smile" He says, bringing his hands to your waist, seeking closeness. "And I would never forgive myself if I let the best person in the world slip through my hands without even saying how I feel. I love you so much"

You can feel a few tears form in your eyes, an involuntary smile appears on your face when you hear those very beautiful words. Eddie Roundtree was the man that made you sigh, in many ways, he was the man that made you feel special, that made you feel safe, he was the person that would not only be there to help you, but to give you support in everything you set out to do. He was your special someone.

Without wasting time you end the distance between you with a kiss, your hands go towards the bassist's neck from time to time taking your fingers to the man's hair, he kisses you tenderly like he wants it to last forever, like he doesn't want to feel you far away anymore.

"I'm crazy for you Eddie" You confess, your foreheads were together while your eyes were closed. "I love you, and I'm in love with you too baby."

Y/N Dunne: Well, Billy was in for a big surprise when he got back from rehab. *Laughing* He was jealous for sure, but he knew deep down that there was no one who made me feel better than Eddie.

Eddie Roundtree: What can I say? I'm in love with her.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

#daisy jones and the six #djats #djats x reader #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie loving #eddie roundtree #josh whitehouse #djatsedit #djats spoilers #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones fanfic #the six

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berberriescorner · 1 year

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What love language(s) do you think EZ Reyes, Angel Reyes, Chris Evans, and Rio each have?

Oh, I love this! Sorry it took a minute to get back to you. I wanted to think it over and put a great deal of thought into my answer. It's kind of lengthy, so brace yourself😂 . Just a reminder, this is based on my opinion y'all. Don't jump down my throat if you disagree😂.

Angel Reyes:

His love language would be words of affirmation. The oldest Reyes (well technically the middle 😂👀) loves reassurance. He finds that in the small things. Hearing you tell him, "I love you, papa," or "I appreciate you." Means the world to him. It's just something about the way you say the words, "I'm proud of you," that warms his heart. He may come off as a nonchalant jerk, but deep down Angel has a heart of gold. Though he struggles with communication. He appreciates that it comes easy to you. That you know when he's trying to shut you out. "Angel, I've given you two days to stew in your anger. I don't know what the issue is, but that changes today. Talk to me. What's on your mind? What can I do to help?" This is enough to get him to release all his emotions. He loves that you're willing to listen to him vent. He feels you are the only person that can actually hear and understand him.

Angel also spills over into the love language of physical touch. He loves it when you two are just lounging around. His head is in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair, giving light kisses here and there. He loves when you play with the rings on his hands. Angel knows the feel of his cool rings soothes your heated skin. The warmth of your skin is a result of the naughty things he's always telling you. He loves getting you riled up, knowing that in a matter of minutes, you'll be begging to feel those ringed fingers messaging your silky flesh.

Ezekiel Reyes:

Like his older brother, this Reyes blends two different categories as well. Having spent quite a bit of time locked up. I would have to say that Ezekiel's first love language would be quality time. Losing all that time makes him appreciate that he has it now. He would want to spend as much time with his lady as possible. They don't even really have to be doing much, he just wants to be in her presence. He would love nothing more than to stay in, cuddled under a blanket reading one of his favorite books to you. He loves that you snuggle into him and listen, asking questions about the book here and there. EZ reads until he hears light snores fall from your lips. Looking down, he brushes the hair from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead. He would probably stare at you for a few moments and then carry you to bed, tucking you and himself in.

Then there is his secondary love language as much as he loves quality time. Ezekiel also has an appreciation for acts of service. He deals with a lot, whether it be family or the club. The fact that you're always willing to step in and help him out, makes him love you even more. He loves that you always stop in and check on his dad. That you offer to help him with household chores and cooking dinner. He doesn't have to worry about him on runs, because he knows you're there checking and spending time with Felipe.

Chris Evans:

We all know he tends to be a workaholic. Every time we turn around, he’s starring in a different project. I'm going to guess that his love language is quality time. He comes off as someone who likes to stay low-key and to himself. Chris also seems like a homebody. I can picture him wanting you all to himself, opting for a quiet evening alone at home. It could be a candle-lit dinner that the two of you made together. Maybe even a night cuddling in bed, binging your favorite movies/tv shows. I can picture him staring down at you, smiling at how cute your laugh sounds. His hand rubs your arm as you cuddle against him, eyes glued to the television. Eyes still locked on you, he’ll pull you closer and place a kiss on your forehead. Chris takes in your features, appreciating that you look gorgeous in just your PJs. You feel him staring, and once you've made eye contact, that quality time turns into passion.

You know what? I’m going to throw in physical touch as well. Chris has been on record saying he deals with anxiety. Hear me out. I’m willing to bet that he craves physical touch. It comes in handy when he’s dealing with stress or anxiety. I can picture the two of you spending time together in his hotel before a premiere or interview on a press tour. Yes, he’s walked the red carpet and sat down for numerous appearances, but his nerves run wild each time. With you by his side, the nerves and anxiety subside as you hug him tightly and kiss his cheek wishing him good luck for the night. “You feeling a little anxious, baby? Just relax. That charming smile and charismatic personality will get you through it,” you tell him as you rub your hands up and down his arms. The tension and worry slowly drain from his body from the feel of your touch. “Thank you, honey,” he pecks your lips as he prepares to head out.

Rio:

Actions speak louder than words with Mr. Gang-Friend himself. In my opinion, Rio is a blend of two love languages, just like the other sexy men listed above. The first is acts of service, and the second: physical touch. He takes pride in his work and loves being the sole provider of the house (even if his significant other chooses to have a successful career of their own). His partner speaks his love language by taking care of other things. Rio can always look forward to coming home to a warm meal. To him, it doesn’t matter if you cooked it yourself or ordered takeout. Just the act of making sure he’s eaten is enough to make him feel loved. You pick up any slack he may have with the kids when his work interferes. All of you understand the importance of what he’s trying to do for the family. It’s also little things, such as having a fresh cup of coffee waiting for him in the mornings. Rio loves the way you take care of him when he’s feeling under the weather. His stubborn ass will swear up and down that he’s not sick. “Baby, I’m fine. Just tired is all.” That’s until it hits him hard, turning him into a whiny sick man child. “Baby, can you make me some soup? Please and thank you, mama.” He’ll roll his eyes at the fact that you were right and call him out about it. He’s fully aware that you have other responsibilities, which makes him even more appreciative.

Are we surprised that the other love language is physical touch? Y’all know this man can’t keep his hands to himself, and he loves that you are the same. Believe it or not, what he appreciates most is that you always know when he needs it. Over time you’ve learned his moods and mannerisms. It’s not hard for you to tell when he’s had a horrible day. Rio doesn’t even have to utter a single word. You just know. One look at him, and you’re crossing the room to get to him as quickly as possible. Rio, meeting your embrace, soaks in the feeling of your arms wrapping around his waist. He grins at the fact that you have to stand on your toes to peck his lips. This small gesture alone is enough to ease his tense muscles. Rio will then spend time with the kids as you warm his plate. Once he’s nice and full, it’s bedtime for everyone. The two of you shower together once the kids have been tucked in. After a nice calming shower, the both of you fall into bed. He’ll slide between your legs, lying on your chest. As the pair of you cuddle, it makes him comfortable enough to vent about his frustrations from the day. Your hands massage his scalp and eventually lull him into a peaceful sleep.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did answering it😆🥰! Be sure to leave your thoughts. Please feel free to comment and reblog, lovelies!

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hed-romancer · 2 months

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season 5 episode 3 of camp camp was amazing, actually

okay so i didn't really like season 5 episode 1, and episode 2 while better, was pretty mediocre to me. Nothing funny, nothing that really moved character interactions forward (besides the slip that david is upset gwen isn't a counselor), some stuff that felt out of character (david doesn't seem the type to worry if he's a good counselor or not so much as worry about literally anything else), and some stuff that was supposed to be funny but was actually unfunny and out of character (the campers choosing to try to open the freezer before even letting anyone know about the cave in). It really was just okay, and only that good bc i love anxious!david

episode 3, however, was absolutely wonderful.

on one hand, you have some of the greatest jokes of the series (david switching over to word associations after explaining exactly nothing, the cut back to the boys where david is taking notes on something nurf is saying, nerris immediately thinking someone born in 1985 must be dead now) (though i'm not exactly a fan of the implication that cj is a child predator being played as a joke).

On the other hand, you have honestly one of the best portrayals of what its like being a tween/young teen girl in media.

ered doesn't know what she's doing, and feels unprepared by her two dads to become a woman, so she goes to gwen to ask for advice, who she thinks is a cool adult woman but is also just so happy to be thought of as cool that she's not even sure what she's agreeing to do. ered asks all the questions she hasn't been able to ask, and gwen realizes quickly she doesn't have all the answers, but still fakes it anyway.

nerris goes off and finds the diary of a kid named jessie, and as they read it they feels seen in a way they never have before. they read more and falls in love with jessie, only to realize that jessie was a kid in 1985, and concludes jessie must be dead by now.

nikki ends up at a spa, and tries new "girly" things, that she previously derided, and finds them enjoyable. once she sees the sum of all the ways she's changed herself, she panics, and realizes she's looking like what she used to hate. how can she still be herself if she's enjoying this?

nikki and nerris go running to ered and gwen for advice, and gwen says "goddammit". ered, realizing that gwen doesn't know anything either, takes helping the younger two on her own. she tells nerris that feeling lost and unsure doesn't mean you're alone, that we've all felt that way. she tells nikki that while its okay to question who she is sometimes, she can be whoever she wants to be and the questioning doesn't make her any less herself.

and it's just chef's kiss. nerris getting a first(?) queer love and realizing it's not gonna happen and not knowing how to handle the heartbreak because it's their first time experiencing it. nikki exploring femininity and realizing it can be enjoyable, even if its not what she usually does, just for her own sake. ered realizing older women don't have it figured out either, and even if she doesn't know everything, she's still gonna step up and help the younger two out. i just love it.

it's literally what becoming an older girl/enby is like. trying to figure it out, helping others try to figure it out, realizing those older than you haven't figured it out either.

#camp camp #cc ered #cc nerris #cc nikki #cc gwen #cc david

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fictionkinfessions · 1 month

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what a wild experience it is to be relatively young while also having a large number of past lives constantly popping up in my memory.

i've been nonhuman more times than i know, but just like i suited myself then, humanity fits me perfectly now. i have more estranged family members than the combined amount of everyone i've met in this life, but still act awkward around my blood relatives because i haven't quite gotten confident in this new self yet. i've worked any imaginable number of jobs but my new first one still seems just as intimidating, at least socially. i've held unbelievable, unsustainable power and more times than not used it for good, for the sake of my people, but i feel guilty accepting simple help from my loved ones. every past and present social convention is more suggestion to me now, yet still i follow, knowing there's nothing worse than being above or below everything where the only part of you others can see is your shadow.

where i once was the pitch black void of destruction for my enemies, i'm now small and soft and doting, and the craziest part is, i was always both.

i cycle between feeling intimidated by/estranged to those older than me and thinking of people my age or older as kids. just like most anyone, they're rambunctious and unafraid and openly, adorably don't know what they're doing because, in their eyes, it's the beginning of their first time. i've done that, too, but remembering it from the perspective of beyond keeps me from experiencing it quite the same way again. the amount of times even before adulthood i have been referred to as an "old soul" is comical- i am old, so old that my highest desire is to teach, to care, to protect others whenever they need it, yet i'll never be too old to remain young in the ways that matter. every menial "coming of age" thing i have done and will go on to do i have done once, twice, a thousand times, but this time is not special in that it won't be when i stop getting excited. my brain prevents me from remembering it all, but if i've learned anything, it's that excitement and joy are all that remain when all else fades away. knowing this means every choice i make will not be a missed or seized opportunity, rather a dedication to love and life itself.

i've had the hard truths of existence carved into my mind over and over. i've been broken and reassembled and built up to tumble back again, yet each time i move on, the burning remnants become nothing more than a fuzzy afterimage that superimposes itself on my being, now entirely different in the exact same way. really, that's the beauty of it; a different body and mind with the same information will come to a different conclusion, even if similar. no set of hands can sculpt a lump of clay the exact same way twice. i am the clay and i am the hands and i am the eyes that gaze upon my self-creation in admiration, in a way some may wish to but cannot in quite as much depth. one day i will hold an entirely new form and choose a new, yet equally true, metaphor to describe the ways in which i've changed. and then, too, i will be young and grown, and grow up while remaining young, and love relentlessly, unconditionally. in this, i will never be alone.

collectively, i'd say my age outranks that of this universe itself. but just like it, i am still a kid, marvelling at the gift of life with bright eyes despite every wild possibility. beauty is within the love you create. so i say to you, another irreplicable creation within the crushing embrace of existence:

reread that cringe book you like, or replay that game that used to be your favorite as a kid, or pick up the hobby you've wanted to try that you know the people around you would think is lame. rant about the most seemingly meaningless things just because you wanna. be as spiritual or non-spiritual as you wish. embrace your various identities and interests with a whole heart, and if they change, let them. you change every day you exist, and you will never be precisely as you were or will be, which makes the you you are now infinitely valuable. if your people are too blinded by the biases of this world to make peace with the harmless things that bring you joy, find new people who can admire the story of each smudged fingerprint in your surface just as readily as every smooth curve and minute detail. whether it be through friendship, romance or family, let yourself be shaped by the influence of others in that irreplicable way you would never achieve on your own. stand on your business when you have to, act the way you feel, speak your mind. make mistakes and learn from them, and make them again, and learn something entirely new. take it from me: you will never run out of things to learn or to love, and that's the greatest gift of all. learn what you need and what you can, and most importantly of all, learn what you love so that you might have the time to love it for as long as possible. remember your time is limited, but acknowledge anything you do to fulfill yourself or something important/necessary to you is not a waste, despite how limited you may be. take whatever pace makes you comfortable, no matter what vindictive minds may insist, and live a life full of all the things you and your loved ones desire, so that no matter when the day comes that you move on, you will know it was worth it.

and, if you can, leave a positive impact on those you meet who could use your irreplicable influence. never force yourself to become beholden to another (just as any other shouldn't be to you) and uphold your personal safety before anyone else's, but if you have the chance to change something for the better, don't choose to let it go. if nothing else, you'll thank yourself for it, as will i. i know you're struggling, and you are trying, and i love you. i believe in you. as long as you always protect and value your own voice, you will live in the best way. never give up on that.

(p.s: also don't give up on your sleep schedule! i'm sitting in tumblr writing this at 4 am on a friday morning. when this is posted, chances are you will never know me or even want to, but remember those you do know and hold them fondly in your heart. and especially appreciate those who choose to work for the benefit of others, like mpc! (thank you for providing this space for people to share things they otherwise couldn't.))

to whoever you might be today, take it easy out there.

- a friend

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #memories issue #seekin #ableist language cw #mod party cat

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my-castles-crumbling · 3 months

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Oh my gosh okay so um my friend who's a guy who's a little older than me we were hanging out with a group of friends at an amusement park and my friend and I went to go get waters for everyone because we were all thirsty and he was kind of flirting with me but I really just see him as a brother but he tried to kiss me and I told him not to and he wouldn't listen to me and I just feel disgusting and I haven't told anyone but I feel so stupid that I couldn't stop him from touching me and it's just really bugging me so much and this happened a while ago and I've just been avoiding being alone with him but I don't want to screw up our friend group or anything

First off, I'm just gonna add a trigger warning to this! Discussions of lack of consent!

Hi, love!

I am going to say this very clearly.

This is NOT your fault. Even if you had flirted. You clearly told this boy "no" and he did not respect that. You did not give consent.

I say this with love: this is assault.

You should not have to stop someone from touching you. They should make sure they have consent.

Though any feelings you have about this are valid, please understand that you are not stupid or disgusting. Again: you did nothing wrong. This is not your fault.

Here's the thing: I am SO glad you told me, and it's so brave that you told me. It's a huge deal to tell someone and I'm so proud of you. But now, I need you to tell someone in real life. I need you to pick one adult that you trust (parent, grandparent, teacher, doctor, coach, anyone) and tell them.

Because this needs to be addressed. Whether or not you decide to do anything about this as far as addressing the boy who did this or not, you deserve to feel safe. That might just mean talking to someone about it, or having someone help you so you know you aren't around the boy. But unfortunately, I'm not in a situation where I can make sure steps are taken IRL to make you feel safe. And you deserve to feel safe.

I know it's scary and I know you don't want to 'mess up' things in your friend group, but this is a big deal: you deserve to feel safe.

Also please know that I am ALWAYS here to talk and listen. But this is one of those rare times where I really will encourage someone to talk to someone IRL.

I'm so proud of you for talking about this, and there are so many people here who support you <3

#tw: lack of consent #ask #asks #ask cas

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corvidae-corvus · 6 months

Text

My Spiderman & Batman Fanfic (WIP): Not a prompt just from the fanfic I'm writing. Check Pin

Ideas #1:

So anyways, I started to think rlly hard about the fanfic and I realized that Instead of Peter going to Gotham right after NWH, I decided that he would die by the Inheritors instead.

I thought about this for a couple reasons:

• I needed to age Peter up a bit so it'd be easier for Peter and Jason to be in a relationship. This also helps with the timeline. So I decided that Peter will be 20 when he dies. Jason will also be 20 or 20-22 yrs old. (Still not sure how I want to write his relationship w/ the bat-family)

• I wanted to give him time to be on his own. I like the idea of him having support and a family but I needed to get him alone first. And since his parents will also be resurrected in the DC verse. His loneliness in those 2 years will play a VITAL role in his story. So 2 years will pass since NWH. I wanted him to still be fresh in his grief for May cause angst, but not too fresh because I want complicated feelings lol. And angst.

• I wanted him to be more experienced in crime fighting. I've read fanfic where he's just so unprepared for Gotham's harshness that he's really fucking struggling. And it kinda makes me go eeeeehhhhhhhh. And as much as I love it. (Cause I do, I like the angst) I also wanted to make him competent AND more dangerous. This is a Peter who's lost HIS WHOLE FAMILY!!! And then he gets them back!? Yeah Peter's morals bend so easily for them. And he's not gonna let a city bring him down. He's gonna live and protect his family, no matter what. What I'm trying to say is that Peter's gonna be a bit more overpowered. Not too much obv. And angry. Rlly fucking angry.

• I wanted Jason and Peter to be together in a romantic relationship and so I wanted to age Peter up instead of having him be with Jason when he's still angry with Batman

WAIT- WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!!! HOLD THE PHONE!!!

I just realized that In my fic Richard Parker and Dick are the same person just different variants of one another. Like they LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME!!! (In my fic that I'm working on)

Like. What age did Richard die!? My head cannon is that he had Peter when he was 25. So he dies at like 30. And Dick is like 5-8 years older than Jason right??? So like Dick is around 25-28 years old during this time!?

Would this make Peter/Jason weird??? I need to know. Should I make like Richard and Dick be only a quarter related??? Or not related at all!? AHHH I DON'T KNOW!? I mean I want Peter/Jason cause it's an easy way to connect Peter to the Bats but also cause I think Peter/Jason would be rlly fucking cute??

BUT I ALSO RLLY WANT RICHARD HAVING THE SAME FACE AS A MULTI BILLIONAIRE TO BE AN OBSTACLE IN RICHARD'S LIFE!! Both as a normal citizen of Gotham and as a Super spy.

AHHHHHHHH!!!!

I CAN ONLY HAVE ONE!?!?

CAUSE LIKE- wouldn't it be weird to date a guy whose biological dad is related to your adopted brother??

GODDAMNIT-

Fuxk- should I just have it that Richard and Dick aren't actually related and Richard just looks like him (doppelganger) so that they can date or that Peter and Jason never date?

Fuxk

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

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Modern au trans Ace has been consuming my mind lately so I thought I'll just share all of my headcanons or else I'll explode:

• Sabo was the first person he had come out to. It happened when they were around 9. Ace had always felt that something was "wrong" about him. That the way he acted, his interests and past times, and just how he would do things were "unnatural" or wierd". Once Ace became familiar with the conspet of transgenderism he just opened up to him, and was met with instant support.

• Immediately after this, Sabo gave Ace his (trademark) transgender haircut in the bathroom of Dadan's house. She actually entered it while they were there and upon seeing it she cried out of happyness. (Mothers know everything)

• Coming out to Garp was a bit harder for Ace since he wasn't sure how an older person would have reacted, I mean Garp just left there his grand"daughter" and came back to a grandson after all. But we all know that Garp would never discriminate, and plus now he has another grandson to train.

• Luffy arrived in his life after a full year after he had transitioned, so at first Ace wasn't sure how to exacly explain this to Luffy, but he did manage to open up to him after they officially became brothers. Luffy wasn't just an innocent kid, while he didn't fully understood concepts like transphobia, to him Ace is just his brother so if anyone is mean to him or calls him names he'll just kick their asses.

• Ace had been homeschooled for the 5 years that would have been him attending elementary school. Middle school was the first time he attended an actual school and at first he wasn't open or confident at all and was ready to just beat up anyone who tried to shit talk him.

• Surprisingly he made a few friends. They were mostly just Luffy's friends who were older than him or his friends's siblings, but he appreciated it anyway. His absolute best friend ever tho is Kuina. I hd her as non binary using she/they so its just trans supporting trans, and they also have like a million of other reasons to be friends but those were already pointed out.

• His top surgery was payed by none other than his father Newgate. The Whitebeards pirates would be just this one tatoo shop Ace works at that Newgate he opened after "retiring" from biker gangs and stuff.

• Obbligatory T4T Yamace, but we all already knew this, didn't we?

• Ace gets the best older trans guy advice from Franky. Because to me, he is just what every trans guy aspires to be, cool and hardboiled. And who wouldn't want to get advice from the dude who did his own top surgery in his father's mechanic shop at 15?

These are all from me, but feel free to add your own or elaborate on the ones you like.

Trans Ace is so real to me that I quite literally can't imagine him being cis. It's just so,,, Weird to me. And I absolutely love everything you said. I definitely think Sabo was the first one to know and the one who helped Ace the most with his transition, also telling Garp, who actually is way better (if you can say 'better' when something isn't even 'good' but yeah) at raising boys. At least he understands them better. So I think he wouldn't have a problem with it at all even if he's more on the "I don't really get it that much, kid, but as long as you're happy" type of vibe. I agree with everything,, When he was younger he really didn't interact with many people and usually preferred to be alone. Teachers considered him more of a problematic kid than anything, and always compared him to Sabo with the typical "how are you like this when your brother is just so polite and smart!?" but then Sabo always ends up fighting the teachers for saying that shit in front of the class and Sabo stops being so perfect in their eyes (also he starts rebelling himself a lot against the educational system lmao). And not to talk shit about Garp, but talking shit about Garp I'm sure Ace would get in trouble a lot and Garp wouldn't show up to the meetings with Ace's teachers. That only makes Ace feel lonelier and everyone thinks he's extremely troubled. When he's literally a sweetheart to both Sabo and Luffy,, When he meets Luffy's friends, he starts to open up to people. He still gets in a lot of trouble, honestly, but that's just him. I think his classmates find out about him being trans, of course, and not a lot of people are okay with that. He truly wants to fight them but he knows that if he keeps going like this he'll get expelled and he doesn't like the idea of leaving Sabo and Luffy alone ('doesn't like the idea' meaning he almost gets expelled and Sabo had to scold him and tell him that even though he has his own friends he doesn't know what he would do without him in school), so Luffy and Sabo are usually the one defending him a lot of the time since the teachers, even though they're chaotic, don't really hate them (because look at those cutie patooties how could you hate Luffy???? He gets along even with teachers). The Whitebeard pirates accept him with open arms and he finally feels he has a place to belong to. Newgate doesn't even offer to pay for the surgery, he just pays without telling him first because he knows Ace wouldn't have let him do it otherwise. He's so so grateful for them. And his brothers. And his friends. And everybody that has ever supported him. I think that he has lots of issues with depression and self-image and he often has a hard time when he acts impulsively, but Newgate always helps him. He grounds him. Gives him something to focus on. And Franky is soooo fun to be around. Newgate tells him to go see Franky and give him the money he owes him, and that's how they meet, basically. It's obvious he's trans because he goes shirtless all the time and scars are there and everything... And Ace just has to ask about his experience. Franky helps him gladly. And it's not only cathartic but also very comforting. He also meets Robin there!!!! Because married Frobin in this one. And I think Ace would absolutely love her because she keeps being oh so nice to him. She kind of reminds him of Makino, and it's extremely sweet. I think Ace now goes to help Franky from time to time when the Tattoo shop doesn't really need him there or, well, whenever he wants to because he also is extremely interested in bikes.

T4T Yamace my beloved.... Guys being guys. Dudes being dudes. I think they meet because Newgate tells Ace something about this man Kaido (leader of a gang) who owes him lots of money or something or did something very nasty to him yadda yadda Maybe they just have beef from when Newgate was into the gang stuff. And Ace keeps saying he should go and settle things with Kaido and beat him up for that, but Newgate is retired and he really, really doesn't give a single fuck about it. Lmao. Ace says he could take down Kaido himself. Newgate laughs. Ace is too proud. So he ends up looking for Kaido and fighting Yamato late at night in the street and,, Well. You know how it goes. They become daddy issues besties and turns out Yamato does not want to follow his dad's steps. Ace is curious about Yamato's experience because he doesn't seem to want to have surgery or anything, and they keep bonding over their pasts and family and Yamato ends up joining the friend group. And it's so cute. Newgate can see the kid is in love because every day he waits for Yamato to come pick him up to hang out. Or maybe he begs to get out earlier to go see Yamato. He keeps talking about Yamato,,, All the time. Even Sabo and Luffy are done with him. It's endearing.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA This is just so good. Modern Au my absolute beloved.

#trans ace i love you you're real to me #one piece #portgas d. ace #whitebeard pirates #asl brothers #yamace #trans ace

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soracities · 10 months

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God I had such a wonderful literature teacher in high school. It pains me to admit that I spent most of his classes either sleeping or daydreaming about death and other equally depressing subjects. I remember thinking even then, I used to like books. Why can't I get myself through this readings why are all of these poems so lifeless to me? And like the rest of my classmates I just googled the Spanish equivalent for SparkNotes for all the readings and got a 10 in every exam. Now I find myself seeking out those same poems and sonnets and books and wishing I could turn back in time to actually listen to this passionate guy who had been all over Europe and knew 5 languages and lived so much and was so specific about which translation to get for every poem and have strong opinions about 10 other translations. I just want to grab my past self and shake them hard and scream "WAKE UP!!!!!! This thing you're ignoring right now will be the only spark of hope and joy you will find in your 20s please it's can save your life NOW if you manage to open your eyes and ears for a little bit"

Now I'm getting a degree in english, and I'm an auxiliary teacher at a primary school and it really feels a bit depressing to know that sometimes not even a great, passionate and talented teacher can make someone with an underlying interest in the subject actually pay attention and enjoy a high school class. Or maybe I was just an idiot and it's a me problem. Or maybe literature is meant to pass you by the first time around and make you go and get it out of your own will at your own time.

I think there's definitely something to be said for finding the right literature at the right time, absolutely--but I also think the fact that you still remember this teacher and the incredible passion and attentiveness he brought to those classes, that you are holding this recognition close to you now, even if you weren't able to give it the attention you wish you had at the time, counts for something, too 💕 in spite of everything something of his teaching still remained with you, even if it's being appreciated after the fact, and I think that, for most teachers, that impact alone means a great deal! Maybe you didn't appreciate the class itself, but you are appreciating the poems and those outlive every classroom and what greater influence is there than that? (And sometimes it's not even the subject itself that remains with you, but the actual teacher. I had an incredible English teacher also, but I know the impact she left on some of my friends had little to do with the poems and plays and everything to do with who she was as a person, and this is, I think, one of the most important things that come from a marvellous teacher)

I don't think you were an idiot at all--I think that whatever you were going through at the time must have been so immense, and as frustrating as it is to look back and wish you could have managed things differently, I think it's so important to allow yourself some grace for the fact that who you are now, looking back, and who you were then, are two different people--some circumstances, I think, are beyond a pupil and a teacher's control but we do the best we can with what we have, and what you have now, and what you had back then, probably look very, very different. Have you ever considered reaching out to your former literature teacher? Writing a letter or an email to let him now what you feel about his classes now, being older, and what this recognition means to you?

I think it's amazing that you are where you are now, with the passion you have now, and also with the awareness, even if you couldn't appreciate it at that time, of what a passionate teacher can bring because it will help make you a more attentive and better teacher as a result. I think teaching is one of those vocations you need to love with your entire being and if you can bring that love and that attentiveness with you to the best of your ability at any given time, then this counts for something, even if not immediately in the classroom itself 💕

#i wish you the best with your teaching and the rest your degree anon!!!#i think also sometimes the impact of certain classes and teachers are things you dont always realise until much later. and i dont think tha #is necessarily a flaw on your part #i think its just the way of things as you get older and gain new perspectives and are able to put your past experiences into a more detaile #framework and understand it more fully. and even if appreciation and gratitude come late they are still things you can use in your life as #you move forward from this point on and allow them to inform your future interactions <3 #ask #anonymous

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yurislotusgarden · 5 months

Text

Circle of complaints

ʚїɞ aka, Welt and Kunikida complaining about having to be unassuming fathers

ʚїɞ Small mentions of reader bcs they're a menace together with either Dazai or March (There's 2 readers, one for bsd universe and one for hsr universe)

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ word count: 1.7k

ʚїɞ Idea was stolen from comes from @lotus-pear <3

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None!

“Are you sure that a pure dark coffee with 4 shots of expresso is a good decision?”

“No, it's not, but I need it.”

The older man sighed, and as he had previously noticed, the younger male was sitting completely alone in the cafe, and seeing as he, himself, was in the same predicament, he decided to join.

“Mind if I sit with you? If you don’t mind, of course.”

“No no, I don’t mind, feel free to sit.”

“Thank you.”

The brunet pulled the chair out and sat down, placing his own coffee on the table.

Pure dark coffee, with 2 shots of expresso. He wasn't much better than the blonde in front of him, but he still had less caffeine in the end.

“Are you sure that I shouldn’t ask the very same question you gave me just a moment before?”

“How about we both ignore our coffees?”

“...That’s a good idea, I suppose. I’m Kunikida Doppo, you?”

“My name’s Welt Yang, nice to meet you.”

The both of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Kunikida’s phone started to ring. Welt had to say that the ringtone, the caller ID, and the picture of the contact were… surprising, to say the least. The older man expected the younger one to accept the call, only for him to decline it, and mute his phone when the same person called again moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking but, are you having a bad day that you’re not answering the call?”

“No, it’s the fact that the caller is one of the people who are the reason behind me being here, drinking this abomination.”

“Understandable, can I know what they did?”

The deep, exhausted sigh from the blonde wasn’t giving any good signs to the brunet.

“It was sand this time.”

“Sand?”

“Yes, I opened a drawer in my desk earlier this morning only to find all of my things covered in sand, nothing was spared. Everything was either covered or full of it. Dazai and [Name], the two responsible for that stunt, were either sitting on the agency couch or their desk respectively, trying not to laugh at my expression when I realized what they did.”

“Hmm… those two, Dazai and [Name], do they do things like that often? Because it sounds like they do.”

“Let me tell you, a day where nothing would happen is a day I would consider a miracle. Both of them are always planning how to get on my nerves. I cannot tell you how many pens I lost due to me snapping them in half.”

The older one chuckled, he had to admit that it reminded him of the things that March and (Name) would often do to the other occupants of the train. He stopped counting how many times he had found things he shouldn't have in places they weren't meant to be in.

“You know, it reminds me of something my coworkers did before.”

“Really? You also have complete menaces as coworkers?”

“Yes, one time two of them, March 7th and (Name), got buckets full of sand one night when everyone else went into their rooms to sleep. The next morning when everyone left their rooms, the entire floor was covered in so much sand that it could’ve been considered a beach, only water was missing.”

“That sounds like a nightmare to clean up.”

“It was. At first, those two troublemakers were sentenced to cleaning up alone, but we all quickly realized that they'd need help if we wanted the sand out the same day. Even then, the sand continues to be found in completely random places till today.”

“How long ago did it happen?”

“Hmm…I would say that soon it'll be 7 months since then.”

“...Now I'm praying that my idiots won't get that idea.”

“You better.”

The younger man sighed. The man that sat with him definitely seemed wise, obviously more experienced with life if he was to guess his age, and unfortunately, he seemed to be on the same boat when it came to coworkers.

“Is it normal for your chaos duo to pull such things?”

“...Chaos duo?”

“It fits.”

“...I guess it does.”

Kunikida was curious, he could tell the two people Welt was talking about were ones to expect some pranks from, but just how was the older man so used it? *At least he looks like he’s used to it* the blonde told himself, slightly amused.

“Honestly, it's completely normal for the two to pull pranks, from smaller to bigger ones. Although it doesn't happen as often as it does for you.”

“After hearing about your sand incident, I think I may be lucky with those bastards doing small pranks on the agency members.”

“You sure should be thankful for small, harmless pranks, you could be having much worse. Also don't mind me asking but, ‘agency’?”

“Ah yes, I work at the armed detective agency, we basically take care of cases that are too much for the police, but still less than what should get the military involved.”

“Sounds like an eventful though dangerous job, I’m not going to lie. I cannot say what my job specializes in, but I do travel a lot.”

“Is Yokohama a work destination?”

“No actually, we decided to have a small break, short vacation, if you will, and since we were already close by, we decided that Yokohama was gonna be our stop.”

“Do you like the city?”

“It's very lovely, I can't lie, I'm a fan of the views, especially water-related ones at sunsets.”

“They're beautiful indeed, would be even better if there was no chance to fish out a suicidal maniac like he's fish himself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me correctly.”

“What do you mean by ‘fish out a suicidal maniac’?”

Welt was worried upon hearing those words, but for some reason, Kunikida seemed completely carefree. Was it so normal for him to call someone like that? Wait wasn't the picture of the caller earlier a person on a ro-

“Dazai Osamu, the person I talked about earlier, literally dreams about a double suicidal with a beautiful woman, but it's not uncommon at all to find him floating down a river as, or after, a suicide attempt.”

“I-”

“Please don't dwell on that.”

Alright so he had every reason to be worried, but he also guessed that Kunikida was way too used to that ‘Dazai’ person’s antics by now.

“...So what’s another prank you fell victim to?”

---------------

“So you're saying, that one time, you left your tea out on a table, just for one person to change it to coffee, then another person to change it to colored vodka (you added food coloring to it), after that yet another person changed it out to a very weird tasting tea, just for someone to change it to food colored water that someone else ended up drinking because the cups got mixed with your friend’s in that whole ordeal?”

“Yeah, it wasn't the first time something like that happened as well.”

Kunikida decided that he was actually lucky with how he gets pranked when he heard what sometimes March and (Reader) did to Welt. Or even someone else when they roped someone into their plan.

“Should I watch out for my drinks even more than I already do?”

“When I hear what your coworkers already have done, I would say yes because it may escalate at some point.”

“Just great-”

“Your cake is falling.”

“Oh shit-”

The cake was successfully saved from falling off of Kunikida's fork, which he was happy about as that was one of the best cakes he’s eaten till this day.

---------------

“-and so I-”

“Wait wait wait.”

“Yeah?”

“You found your paperwork on the roof, the only thing keeping it from flying being a singular pin?”

“Yes, I searched for that paperwork for a week before Ranpo took pity on me and gave me a hint.”

“The hint being?”

“He said, and I quote ‘Do you think that paperwork can fly?’. It caused me to check out all of the windows and then the roof.”

“...Your partner loves chaos doesn't he?”

“He adores it.”

“You actually reminded me of that one time that my research papers were taped all over my workplace, nothing spared, not even the floor or ceiling.”

“Hold up WHAT-”

#)+_)#)#

“And guess what? He had absolutely no remorse for that! The bastard!”

“We have way too many similar experiences…”

First the sand, then the broken things, messed up work - for Kunikida, and messed up documentation on some observations for welt, hair cut when taking a short nap, teasing comments, changed up drink when one was not looking (Welt laughed way too much at hearing that you changed Kunikida's water for vodka, and Kunikida had a hard time trying not to laugh at Welt’s tea being changed to water with food coloring), things completely going missing before being found days later in the most random spot imaginable he swears that Kunikida will have gray hair or aneurysm before 25.

“Way too many. I say we don't let those 4 meet each other, it won't be good for anyone around.”

“Pretty sure it would end up with half of the city hating them.”

“Half? I say most.”

“That's an exaggeration.”

“Not at all.”

Both of them had to say that the talk in the cafe was very pleasant. Sharing the memories problems that are so similar that it got kind of worrying at one point, but very pleasant indeed. Unfortunately for Kunikida, he noticed he was about to run behind his schedule if he was to stay any longer.

“Say, how long are you staying in the city?”

“It depends on my coworkers really, but we planned 2 weeks at the very least, we all need it.”

“How about we meet every now and then? Just to talk like we did today?”

“I would say that's a great idea. A talk like this can be very refreshing.”

“Great, let’s exchange numbers then?”

“Of course.”

Little did the two of them know that soon yet another person would join them. That, dear readers, is how their little circle of complaints came to be.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ Taglist ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

@sukiischaotic

#yes himeko was the one to drink the food colored water #honkai star rail #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #hsr x reader #x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd dazai #gender neutral reader #welt yang #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #march 7 hsr #hsr #dazai x reader

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moved--accs · 1 year

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[repost] glowing | lee know.

Best friend’s brother!Minho, female reader. ~8.2k words.

"I can drive her, man. It's no big deal." He told your brother–who was locking your home's door behind him–but his eyes didn't leave yours.

"Are you sure? GPS is saying it's kind of a long drive, and I know you'll want to drink when we get there."

"I'm fine with taking her. As long as she doesn't prefer getting an Uber or something." Minho says, turning to your brother for a brief moment, "It's up to her, really."