#It even has the reverb for being in a bathroom!

[hyunnie04]

tender

lee know x reader, hurt/comfort | m.list

wc: 1.4k | warnings: themes of depression and struggling with mental health

a/n: this fic is a little self indulgent as i haven't been feeling great lately. so i hope this brings comfort to anyone who needs it ♡

you don’t remember how long you’ve been sitting in the tub. you’re sure your hands have pruned and wrinkled due to the prolonged time you have been in here, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

the sides of your head pulses as a migraine at the forefront of your temple starts to fully form. you had hoped a moment of reprieve in the bath would calm your nerves and ease your headache, but it had yet to do so.

the droplets fall slowly against your furrowed eyebrows and taut expression, dripping freely down on your chin and on the dewy expanse of your chest. both arms are splayed limply across the sides of the tub, staring blankly ahead at the white tiled walls above, unmoving. 

the temperature was warm, too warm for your usual liking but you didn’t seem to mind today, welcoming the dull pain it brought. the white tiles that you’ve been staring at for what seemed like forever stared back at you.

the silence was deafening.

a lot has been on your mind lately. the restless and constant feeling of not being good enough and comparing yourself to others caused you to no longer find enjoyment in the things you used to love doing.

words that usually meant nothing had stuck themselves inside your head as well, dissecting every meaning when they had none. sleep did not come easily to you these nights, tossing and turning, failing to succumb into the comforting arms of sleep.

isolation became your company in these moments, withdrawing yourself from everything. missing out on a lot of stuff, in turn, made you feel worse than you already did.

you knew you should probably tell someone about your problems but you just couldn't find it in yourself to do it. the last thing you wanted to be was a bother.

some days are admittedly better than others, where you’re able to get things done, to do your obligations and continue on with life like normal. but when you least expect it, it creeps up on you, pulling you back into that unhealthy head space.

you tried to force these thoughts and feelings down for a long time, pretending that everything was fine. today was apparently the day it all came rising up, unable to keep a lid on your bubbling emotions.

a sense of dread hung over your head, eyes aching from all the crying you did. wet strands of hair had clumped together, obscuring your view, perturbed by how sometimes your skin doesn't feel like yours.

“y/n?”

the bathroom starts to fog with mist, clouding the glass and mirrors, the water slowly scalding your skin. the call to sink down into the water and never come up are louder than ever.

“-y/n? are you in there?” a voice makes itself known. lifting yourself up a little bit, startled at the faintest sound of knocks.

you forget that minho would be home around this time. a hand flies towards your forehead to ease the pounding pain. shit, you haven't started making dinner. 

it takes a while before you answer, collecting yourself as to not sound as shaky. “yeah! just finishing up, i'll be out in a sec.”

“don’t get out, i'll join you.” he yells back, the sound of padding feet against the wooden floors reverb through out the apartment. your eyes flicker at his sudden decision, causing you to sigh and sink down into the water once more.

as much as you adored and love him and how most days would let him join you with no hesitation, you silently hoped that he wouldn't today. you couldn't bear to let him see you in this state, all disheveled and puffy eyed. but it was rare when he was even home, given his grueling schedule.

so you wait for him patiently to come over to your shared bathroom, hugging your legs tightly. you remember to turn the cold tap on and off before he enters, water droplets filling in the silence.

when he finally creaks open the door with nothing on but a bathrobe and a silly cat headband that kept his hair away from his forehead on, you can't help but smile even if it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

you inch farther into the corner, making space for him quietly as he gets in. if he had noticed the temperature of the water that had yet to cool down, he made no attempt to comment.

the two of you don't say anything for the time being, just in each other's corner, relaxing and leaning your arms on the cool edge of the tub.

“you’re quiet.” his voice echoes. minho’s voice cuts through the silence, a stark contrast to the quietness of the bathroom just moments ago.

“i’m sorry.”

feeling minho’s heavy unwavering gaze into the side of your head, you can’t help but feel awful. you don’t mean to be so curt with him, but any more words from your mouth frightens you, afraid that the underlying shakiness of your voice will give you away.

your eyes still keep averting his, afraid of what expression he might bore. will he look at you with pity? with a tired gaze of disappointment?

he does not. instead, minho grabs one of the lavender scented shampoo bottles placed neatly on the shelf and gestures for you to turn around. you follow his request, albeit apprehensively, turning around.

“there we go.” he says. even if you refuse to meet his eyes, you could tell he was smiling as he said it.

minho takes great care to shampoo your hair, his blunt nails gently raking over your scalp, unknowingly soothing your dreadful headache. minho is observant, very much so. it doesn’t surprise you at all anymore when he suddenly asks.

“what’s wrong, hmm?” he finally says amidst the stillness of the atmosphere, tone dripping of comfort as his hands continue to lightly massage through your soapy tresses. you lean into it like a desperate cat, melting at his simple touch. oh how you've yearned for his touch.

although you don’t answer, his intuitive nature already knows that something was amiss.

“you know i’m always here for you.” minho says, pressing a delicate kiss on your shoulder. his sweet words and murmurs of comfort act like a salve to your aching heart as tears start to gather at your lash line once again.

you always hated making him worry.

the overwhelming emotion brings you to tears, immense guilt ebbing at your seams. minho places his head on your shoulder as you cry, hands running up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe you.

he doesn't deserve this, to be left out, to not know the reason you're so distant lately. he trusted you and you trusted him. so you spill every little thing to him.

voice starting to rasp, your stuttering cries now unrestraint without fear of judgement and just allowing yourself to be vulnerable. salty tears start to meld together with the water in the tub, rippling as they fall. at last, you feel lighter. the weight that you carried for so long in your heart doesn't have to be carried alone.

after a while, the hiccupping in your throat and the tears start to subside, leaving you a sniffling mess. turning around to finally face him, you fought the urge to hide in your hands.

"feel a little better now?" minho looks at you with nothing but a loving smile, no underlying judgement, just adoration, and one that makes you dive into him. you feel so utterly loved, what did you do to deserve him?

your arms wrap around his neck, placing apologetic kisses on his lips. he reciprocates, hands going around your back to steady your form. your mouth tumbles out watery apologies as he caresses the skin of your nape, gentle as he can.

you release him, arms still hooked around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes as if he's the center of the universe, and to you, he is. "i love you." the edges of your vision cloud with the tell tale signs of drowsiness, finally finding it in yourself to relax in his hold.

and he lets you, guiding your head to rest on his broad chest, the steady beats of his heart thumping against your temple, grounding you, his feathery light touches lingering.

feelings like these come and go, but minho is a constant that you keep close to your heart.

“thank you for putting up with me.”

"of course, i love you too."

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x you #skz imagines #lee know skz #stray kids angst #lee know angst #skz angst #skz x you

[btsvt-bar]

FEVER ꩜ part two

pairing ꩜ journalist!mingyu x afab!reader x journalist!wonwoo

synopsis ꩜ a promotion at work, the new political reporter and a few bottles of wine. writing for a prestigious newspaper can be much more exciting than it seems. it all depends on who your co-workers are.

content/genre ꩜ frenemies with benefits, threesome, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread.

part 2 is finally out!! sorry it took so long, i hope I can make it up to you with the plot I came up with. comments are appreciated! lmk what you think ♡

warnings under the cut!

part one | part two

warnings ꩜ smut, threesome, anal sex, oral (m. receiving), masturbation (f. and m. receiving), cum swallowing, double penetration, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex, sex in the workplace, voyeurism, tit sucking, jacuzzi sex, protected sex. lmk if i forgot something important.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

chapter three

When your boss announced his retirement, both you and Mingyu were nominated to the position. It was up to the board to decide, and you hoped they would choose you.

Being an editor in chief has always been your dream. Even before you started college, you knew you wanted to be the head journalist. So you worked hard for recognition and it happened, almost ten years later. You got promoted earlier, and now you’re at the club with your friends to celebrate it.

You’re dancing along with Yunjin, a mojito in your hand. The music is really loud and it reverbs through your body. Your eyes are closed, you’re just enjoying the moment as much as you can.

Some drunk girl bumps on you and you spill your drink. “Ah, shit!” You curse loudly. “I’m going to buy another one, wait here!” You yell at Yunjin and she gives you a thumbs up.

You work your way through the crowd and reach the bar with some difficulty. As you get there, you find Wonwoo sipping on some whiskey.

“I think I owe you congratulations, editor in chief.” He smiles brightly, making your insides burn a little. “Lemme buy you a drink!” He offers and you accept.

“Thank you!” Your voice is loud and excited. “That’s nice of you.”

He winks.

"I need to use the bathroom, can you hold my drink?" You ask.

"I’ll come with you and we’ll buy it when we come back."

You lead the way and Wonwoo holds you by the waist so you won’t get lost. His big hand burn your skin through the fabric of your clothes and you shiver slightly.

When you reach the dark hallway at the back of the club, you blindly enter the first door you find.

"Oh, I think we’re on the wrong place."

The bathroom had some lockers and you assumed it was for the usage of the working crew. The music fades away and you see Wonwoo’s closed the door.

"I think we’re on the right place." Wonwoo speaks in a low tone, making his voice even more sensual.

"Why is that?" you make a thoughtful pout.

Wonwoo approaches you slowly. The hot look he shoots your way sends a shiver down your spine and makes something in your belly twist and turn.

"I can show you better than I can tell you." he says while licking his lips and bringing both hands to your face.

"Go ahead." you reply and let out a sigh when the man slides his elegant nose against your cheek.

His breath was an intoxicating mixture of mint and alcohol, and that, mixed with his striking perfume, makes you completely trapped in his sensual and dangerous atmosphere.

"Are you dating Mingyu?"

"Does it matter?" you sigh.

"Yes or no?" Wonwoo pulls away, looking into your eyes.

"No." you roll your eyes, feigning impatience. "May I know why you’re so interested?"

Wonwoo gives a side smile, the kind that makes the hairs on your arms rise.

"To know if I can do this." he says and pulls you by the waist, pressing your lips together in a passionate kiss.

The kiss is hot and filled with pure lust as he searches for your tongue, which you willingly present to him, letting him explore your mouth as he pleases. Your fingers delve into the strands of his hair, pulling carefully.

You tilt your head a little so he can deepen the kiss. Wonwoo swallows all the soft moans you emit as he thinks about the things he would like to do. You feel his cock throbbing in his pants, transforming him into a needy being desperate for friction.

On the other hand, you feel your body overheating, almost as if you have a fever. You want the man in front of you with such intensity that you fear exploding if you have to wait any longer.

You break apart for air. Heaving chests, swollen and red mouths after the hungry kiss.

"Your idea gave me an idea." you say seductively. "Sit there.”

Wonwoo doesn't even question the request and sits in the huge wood bench. He sits with his legs open, trying to give his erect penis some space.

Your gaze settles on the spot between his legs almost immediately. You lick your lips in an unconscious gesture, thinking that you made the best decision of the night.

You kneel down in front of Wonwoo, and slowly run your hands and nails up and down his thighs. The man feels his head spin just thinking about where that would lead. All of this feel like he is dreaming. You squeeze his erection over his pants and Wonwoo lets out a hoarse moan. You keep teasing him like this for a few minutes, making him get harder and harder.

When you decide you’ve tortured him long enough, you open the button on his black pants and pull it down along with the white boxers, releasing him from the fabric prison. Taking his member in hand, you begin slow movements. Wonwoo lets out a breathless moan, he wasn't ready for that for the fast pace. So he squirms, trying to hold his body weight with shaky arms.

You stimulating him abruptly. Wonwoo opens his eyes, his eyelids heavy due to excitement. You stare at him through your lashes, a wicked smile plastered on your beautiful face. Without ever breaking eye contact, you poke your tongue out and lick his member, from the base to the head. You start to gently suck at it, swirling your tongue around the entire length and eliciting moans from Wonwoo.

The man grabs your hair, the sight of what you were doing driving him crazy. You start to take him in your mouth slowly, your hand stimulating what doesn't fit inside and the other playing with his heavy and hot balls. Wonwoo's head is thrown back as he sighed in pleasure, your skilled mouth and hands working on his cock deliciously.

Wonwoo pulls your hair lightly and lowers his gaze. Understanding what he wanted, you stop sucking him for a few seconds to give permission. Then, he starts to guide your head, speeding up the pace of things a little.

He closes his eyes tightly and mentally curses every swear word available in his dictionary, feeling closer and closer to completely catching fire. Wonwoo's abdomen tightened as he began to feel his peak, his moans getting louder and louder.

"I-I’m a-almost" he gasps when you squeeze his member a little harder. "I’m almost there, you can stop now" he warns, but you don’t care and redouble efforts.

You move your hand up towards his abdomen. In a few moments, Wonwoo’s mind goes blank, as if you controlled him, and he groans in satisfaction.

The hot, salty liquid takes over your mouth, and you swallow everything in the best way possible.

Releasing him with a pop, you admire the man's exhausted state through your eyelashes. Wonwoo collects a few white drops that escaped from your mouth with his thumb and you suck his digit clean. The man moans softly, completely spent. You sport a satisfied and cunning smile. Wonwoo caresses the skin just below your eyes with his thumb, wiping away the moisture and gently removing a fallen eyelash.

"I guess you just earned a day off now." you state while biting your lower lip.

Wonwoo laughs loudly and covers his face with one hand, his whole body shaking in amusement. "I’ll take you up on that, boss."

chapter four

Mingyu blinks several times as he tries to focus on what was written on the computer screen. The man was trying to write a short article about the NFL players' statements on the pre-season, but he couldn't stay focused for long. Sighing in frustration, the journalist decides to get a mug of coffee.

As he passes your empty table, he realizes he misses spending time with you. He’s used to sharing work space with you since you two were interns. Exchanging insults and secret glances had been part of the routine for years. So not having you around was strange, to say the least.

Arriving close to the small kitchen, Mingyu notices that two people are talking inside the room. He reaches out to open the frosted glass door, but stops halfway when he realizes that the people in question are Yunjin and you. Mingyu leans against the wall next to the door, hiding from your view.

"Where did you go on Saturday?" Yunjin asks as she stirs the spoon in the coffee mug.

"Nowhere?" you respond with a confused tone.

"Come on, Y/N." The other says while rolling her eyes. "You disappeared for about thirty minutes during the party."

You widen your eyes, understanding what your friend was talking about. Taking a sip from your own mug, you try to buy a few seconds.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Dino!"

"For God’s sake, who did you kill?!"

You purse her lips, unsure of how to say what had happened. You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Not because of what you had done, but because of how it all happened.

"Don't worry, you won't need to help me clean up a crime scene." you laugh and Yunjin shows a smile. "I needed to use the bathroom…"

"Why do I feel like the end of that sentence is going to be shocking?" Yunjin rests the mug on the table, preparing herself for what you would reveal. "Go on."

"And Wonwoo went with me."

Outside the room, Mingyu feels his blood heat when he hears the exchange. He just couldn't tell if it was out of jealousy or embarrassment for eavesdropping.

"Aaaaand…?" Yunjin encourages you to continue.

"Why do you assume there's more to it than that?"

The youngest closes her eyes and gives you a bored look, as if to say “please, I know you!”.

"We kissed. And I gave him a blowjob." you speak quickly and quietly, leaving Yunjin stunned by the revelation. "Happy?"

Mingyu's eyes widen at the information. Now Wonwoo's smug expression made perfect sense. The other was passing him behind and, until that moment, he had no idea.

"Y/N! I can't believe you kept this from me all these days!"

"What did you want me to do?" you put your hands on your waist. "Hi, Yunjin. I just sucked Wonwoo off in the club’s crew bathroom. Do you want to see the place?"

"It would’ve been better than hiding this information!"

You throw a crumpled napkin in her direction, and Yunjin just laughed as she dodged the object.

"You are ridiculous!" you stick out your tongue and your friend returns the gesture.

"I can't believe something finally happened!" She takes a quick sip of the coffee she was cooling down. "What about Mingyu?"

The man straightens his posture when he hears his own name and frowns, trying to understand where the conversation would lead.

"What about him?"

"He's a little jealous, isn't he?"

"We’re friends. Who have sex from time to time." you shrug. "He knows that, or at least he should."

"And even then he won't make it easy for Wonwoo." Yunjin lets out a little laugh.

"He could stop being annoying and agree to have a threesome with me and Wonwoo, that's for sure."

Yunjin chokes on the dark liquid she was drinking. She wasn't ready to hear that.

Still standing outside, Mingyu takes a deep breath. Your last statement had come as a slight shock. He knew he definitely shouldn't be listening to that conversation, but his feet felt glued to the floor. Because he’s lost in his own thoughts, he misses Yunjin's response. But he comes back to reality in time to hear the end.

"Anyway, he can't do anything about it." you wrinkle your nose. "He could accept it, so everyone has fun."

Mingyu realizes that you and Yunjin could leave at any moment, so he returns to his own table as quickly as possible. He settles into the black leather chair, the information he had just acquired swirling in his mind.

So you wanted to have a threesome with him and Wonwoo? Normally, he wouldn't object if you expressed this desire to him. But it was difficult to say yes when the situation involved Jeon Wonwoo.

Yes, he was jealous.

Mingyu knew you were just friends, but he couldn't help but feel his blood boil when he understood that he was no longer your only focus. He liked having undivided attention.

He could stop being annoying and agree to have a threesome with me and Wonwoo, that's for sure. Your words echo in his head. Mingyu wanted to prove that your judgment was wrong.

The gears in his head began to turn. He had two options: leave that unrequited jealousy aside and surprise you or continue picking on Wonwoo and risk losing what he had. It seemed like an obvious choice.

The sound of Wonwoo's keyboard catches Mingyu's attention. The man looks at the other's profile, who was focused on whatever he’s doing on the computer.

Mingyu thoughtfully rests his face on his hand. He was determined to give you what you wanted, but would Wonwoo be willing to do the same?

He only had one way to know.

"Hey, Jeon." Mingyu calls and the other turns to look at him. "So, I was thinking…"

chapter five

You ring the doorbell at Mingyu's penthouse and sway anxiously from side to side as you wait for the man to open the door. He had invited you over for dinner — according to him, to celebrate your promotion.

I want to know if my new boss can spare a few hours to come over and have a bottle of wine with me. Maybe two, if you’re feeling generous. Mingyu's words echoed in your mind. “Have a bottle of wine” was your code for asking each other to have sex. Of course wine was involved, but it was nowhere near the main attraction of the night.

So you had high expectations.

The huge white wooden door opens, revealing Mingyu. You analyze him from head to toe. He wore a black fishnet tank top, his beefy chest on full display, black swimming shorts and black leather sandals. You bite your lower lip, already feeling your insides begin to stir just from that simple visual stimulation.

"Ah, finally!" he exclaims as he opens the door and you enter the apartment. Mingyu takes your bag — the one that carries your personal belongings to spend the night there — and the black Chanel you carried around every day. "I was about to start drinking your favorite wine without you."

The place was impeccably tidy, as it was every time you visited him. Mingyu was very organized at work, it was no surprise for you to discover that his house followed the same pattern.

"It took me longer than expected to get out of the Tribune." You sigh, exhausted after the day of work. "I'm ready to sink into the hot water of the jacuzzi."

"Let’s go, then."

You climbed the few steps of the staircase that led to the second floor of the penthouse, where Mingyu's huge suite and leisure area were located.

"I'll leave it in the room, can you go ahead open the wine?" Mingyu asks as soon as you reach the last step.

You nod with a smile and head to the bar area. As soon as you turn the wall that limited the room, you realize you’re not alone with Mingyu. Sitting with his back facing you, with a can of beer in his hand, is Jeon Wonwoo.

You freeze in place. What was he doing there? Mingyu and Wonwoo weren't friends. Why was the political journalist sitting on Mingyu’s balcony drinking a cold beer while listening to some hip hop coming from the speakers installed throughout the apartment?

"Do you like your gift?" Mingyu whispers in your ear as he sneaks closer. "I thought you deserved something special, boss."

You shudder at the proximity. Mingyu hugs you from behind, his strong hands flat on your stomach.

"I-I’m not sure if I understand..." you murmur. Your blood’s rushing quickly through your veins, overheating your body. "What kind of joke’s this, Mingyu?"

"There’s no joke, baby." he provokes. His hands played with the hem of the white blouse you wore. "I'm just making a new friend."

You take a deep breath in complete disbelief. Your skin burned with the promise of something you don’t even understand yet. Mingyu was up to something and the target of the trick was you.

"Did you make some kind of stupid bet? Whatever it is, leave me out of it!"

Mingyu lets out a low, amused laugh. He brushes your hair out of the way before placing a quick kiss on the side of your neck, and you instantly relax into his touch.

"Stop being annoying, Y/N. It's not what you're thinking." Mingyu says close to your skin. "And, fyi, I really bet on you. But not in the way you think."

You voice a sound of doubt, not understanding what the hell he was talking about.

He gives you another kiss, this time near your jaw. "Now, how about we drink some wine?"

That’s when you understand the real reason for being there. Mingyu had spoken from the beginning, but you didn’t get it. Using the metaphor you created, he invited you for a threesome with Wonwoo.

"Wine sounds good." you respond softly, feeling your head spin. "Both bottles."

Mingyu pulls you in for a quick kiss, pleased with your response. He caresses your cheek affectionately and you smile before asking "Do you want to start with white or red?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

Your reflection’s slightly blurred. You tie your hair into a high bun and carefully adjust the straps of your bikini. You’re in the bathroom of Mingyu's suite, preparing to go to tbe jacuzzi with the men waiting on the balcony. When you’re satisfied, you open the sliding door and turn off the light before going out.

You stop at the door and lean against the dark wood while analyzing the two men who were talking near the railing. Wonwoo was already shirtless, wearing only white shorts. Mingyu says something that makes the other laugh. The animosity between them was forgotten many glasses of wine ago.

You analyze them both thoroughly. Jeon Wonwoo was the very definition of hot. The defined chest and marked collarbone makes your head dizzy. His abs were defined, but nothing too exaggerated, his arms are strong too. You want to feel the muscles under your palms. Kim Mingyu wasn't left behind. All the hours invested in the gym were worth it. You were used to seeing him naked, but you never stopped feeling your stomach heat up at the sight of his perfect body.

You’re slowly losing sanity, for sure.

"Ready for the jacuzzi, baby?" Mingyu's voice brings you to reality and you feel your cheeks heat up from being caught staring at them.

"Yes, sir." You turn around slowly, showing off your white bikini. "But you don't seem to be." You add, nodding at the lame excuse of a tshirt that Mingyu is still wearing.

"Why don't you help me, then?" He challenges with one of his eyebrows raised.

You shrug and approach him. Mingyu raises his arms and you remove his shirt while smoothing your hand over his toned torso in the process. As soon as he’s free, Mingyu discards the clothing on the lounger next to him. He holds your face with one hand and presses your lips together in a passionate kiss.

Wonwoo watched everything with interest. The wine served perfectly to calm him down and helped him get used to the idea of what you’re going to do, but it didn't stop his heart from beating faster in his chest.

Mingyu wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. With a quiet moan, you allow him to wrap his tongue around yours, kissing you slowly.

Wonwoo approaches and starts kissing your neck, taking advantage of the fact that the area was exposed. You break the kiss to look at him, two sets of eyes burning with lust. Without further ado, you kiss. Wonwoo takes on the task of distributing kisses and caresses over your body. When you’re satisfied, you pull Wonwoo's lower lip between your teeth, ending the kiss.

"Shall we go to the jacuzzi?" You invite them before heading towards the raised area of the balcony.

You climb up the five steps carefully, Wonwoo and Mingyu following. They cross the few meters of the deck and stop at the edge of the jacuzzi. The water bubbled and gentle steam rose from the surface. You sit on the edge and put your feet inside, enjoying the warmth.

"I want champagne." You look at Mingyu, who carried a bucket with a bottle and glasses inside.

"You're very bossy." He jokes, but opens the sparkly drink quickly.

"We're having a celebration in my honor, aren't we?" you roll your eyes as he picks up a glass full of the bubbly liquid. "I can be bossy."

The men laugh at your words. Finally, they enter the jacuzzi and are submerged in the hot water. You stand between them, your left hand — which was holding the glass — resting on the edge.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the view. Mingyu's apartment had the perfect location: no buildings around and a clean view of the river.

Mingyu rests the empty glass on the deck and his eyes lock on you. Without breaking eye contact, he approaches you. His left hand squeezes your right thigh. "I think it's time for you to enjoy your gift." he whispers close to your skin, sending shivers through your body.

You try to kiss Mingyu, but he holds your chin and guides your attention to the other end of the jacuzzi. You stare at Wonwoo. He’s biting his plump lower lip at the scene. Unable to resist for another second, you call the man closer with your index finger and he promptly complies. You kiss Wonwoo as he pulls you onto his lap.

The addition of the hot water with Wonwoo's hands squeezing your waist and Mingyu's hands roaming your body made you feel like your blood is boiling in your veins. It’s the true feeling of a fever that gets higher by the second.

You separate from Wonwoo and give Mingyu a teasing look. He knows the game you’re playing, but he wants to see what you’re doing next. You start distributing kisses across Wonwoo’s jaw and neck, occasionally touching your lips in a tempting way. Wonwoo's big hands are now resting on your hips, tightly griping you when he likes the stimulation.

Mingyu calls you, needing some attention. You shake your head and plant a kiss at the base of Wonwoo's neck, without peeling your eyes off of the other.

"Are you really going to use him to make me jealous?" Mingyu grunts, feeling strangely excited about the situation.

"I don't particularly feel used." Wonwoo chuckled. Mingyu frowns. Of course that idiot would side with you.

"I'll only make you jealous if you're jealous of me, my dear."

"I’m not."

"Great. Then I can pay exclusive attention to him."

Mingyu lets out a low growl and grabs you by the wrist. You try to hold back a laugh.

"Okay. I'm jealous and I want some attention too." he reveals reluctantly. "Happy?"

You tilt your head, a mischievous smile painting your lips. You shuffle around to sit on Mingyu's lap, with one leg on either side of his body. He’s already showing signs of excitement and you let out a contented sigh at the feeling.

"Overjoyed." The kiss you exchange is hungry. You kiss passionately, your tongues caressing each other quickly and possessively. Mingyu looks for the clasp on your bikini and unties the white strings from your back and neck with ease. He pulls the fabric off and throws it anywhere, soon filling his hands with your breasts.

Your snake your left hand to the back of Mingyu's head and lightly pull the strands. With your free hand, you reach out to caress Wonwoo's erection through his shorts.

He closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh, happy to be getting some attention too. You brush your fingers across his lower abdomen, teasing him, and Wonwoo catches his breath. You play with the hem of his shorts for a few seconds, making him practically squirm in anticipation. Slowly, you enter the shorts, sliding your fingers gently until you reaches Wonwoo's cock. You wrap your hand around his thick girth and start moving back and forth inside the tight space.

Wanting to see the scene, you move away from Mingyu and fix your gaze on Wonwoo's expressions. His head’s hung back, eyes closed tightly and his slightly open mouth emits low, deep moans.

The water from the bathtub reached his chest, the droplets glistening on his golden skin. Meanwhile, Mingyu starts to guide your hips against his, both of you needing the friction. Suddenly, Wonwoo grabs your wrist, stopping the movements.

"Your turn." Once again, you sit on Wonwoo's lap. This time, you lean your back against his chest. He directs both hands to your breasts and squeeze them eagerly. He plays with your hard nipples between his fingers and kisses your neck, eliciting high pitched sounds of pleasure. You move your hips slowly, teasing his erection. After a while, Wonwoo's right hand continues to pay attention to your breasts while his left one slides down your belly and stops at the hem of your bikini. He pulls the fabric down and you help him remove the last item that’s somehow covering you. You open your legs widely, resting your right foot in the small space between both men, to have more stability.

You feel a third hand touching your thigh. Mingyu caresses your skin with one hand while the other slowly stimulates his hard cock through his shorts. You’re pulled back to Wonwoo when slides a thick finger inside you. Without encountering much difficulty, he fingers you slowly, earning a surprised exclamation in return.

"One more." You demand after a few seconds, thinking that the single digit is not enough.

Wonwoo readily complies and adds another finger, receiving a moan of approval in response. Mingyu lets go of your thigh and his fingers find their way to your clit. He draws small circles and see stars. It’s definitely a unique feeling to have two men in charge of your pleasure.

Not long after, Wonwoo feels you squeeze his fingers, an indication that you’re close to cumming, so he fingers you more vigorously. Your hands hold Wonwoo's biceps tightly and hides your face in his neck, preparing yourself for the explosion that’s coming. Mingyu continues his movements on you and moves closer, connecting his lips to your free breast. It’s the feeling you needed to push you off the cliff.

You shudder, feeling your insides melt and your mind fly thousands of meters away. You faintly hear someone talking, but you can’t make out a word. When you come back down, Wonwoo and Mingyu move away, giving you space to recover. You let go of Wonwoo's arm and small crescent moons are marked in the place where you clawed him without noticing.

"How about we get out of here?" Mingyu proposes and everyone agrees.

The wind outside punishes your naked body. You shudder and try to protect yourself with your arms. Mingyu hugs you from behind and guides both of you to the double lounger. While you get comfortable, the men remove their shorts to be completely naked. You get goosebumps, but that had nothing to do with the turbulent air around you. You let the vision of their naked form burn in your brain, wanting to remember this moment forever.

Mingyu climbs onto the lounger, positioning himself above you before kissing you again. You let him slide between your legs, his dick sliding with easy against your wet pussy. Wonwoo sits next to you and jerks his own cock. Mingyu lets go of you, leaving you wanting more. He stretches his body to the side table and returns with condoms and lubricant in hand. You open your mouth in shock when you realize Mingyu had actually planned this whole moment.

"Are you going to join us or just watch like you did in the archives room?" Mingyu teases Wonwoo, who rolls his eyes.

"If you keep teasing me like that, I'm going to start thinking that you're the one who wanted this threesome." the other sasses and grabs one of the condoms.

Mingyu laughs and turns to you, who’s silently watching everything. He gives the you a reassuring smile, his whole sexy persona fading away for a bit.

"How are we doing this?" you ask and lick your lips, looking forward to the main event.

"Mingyu in the back, me in the front." Wonwoo responds as he gets up from the lounger, already properly protected. "Is that okay with you?"

You nod, either way being completely fine. Mingyu sits in the empty space and slaps his hands on his thighs, inviting you to come closer. Anal sex was nothing new for you two, but you’re a little apprehensive every time.

Mingyu hugs you, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder. He stimulates your clit, hoping it’ll relax you. Soon enough, you feel less tense. "Do you remember our safeword?" Mingyu asks close to your ear, causing goosebumps.

"Tamagotchi."

"Good girl." he whispers and kisses your shoulder again.

Mingyu applies a good amount of lubricant to his cock and to your rim. He positions himself and penetrates carefully, pulling your hips down. He feels the familiar tightness and takes a deep breath, trying hard not to lose control and shove everything in at once. Concentrating on continuing to stimulate your clit, he is soon buried in you to the hilt. You move up and down Mingyu's length a few times, trying to get used to him.

"Your turn." You call Wonwoo when you think you can handle both.

Wonwoo licks his lips and positions himself between yours and Mingyu's legs. He adjusts himself as best he can to have support, staying close to you. You stare at his cock, salivating as you remember the feeling of sucking it. He was thicker than Mingyu, so you couldn't wait to feel him inside you after having sex with just the same guy for so long.

Wonwoo aligns himself with your entrance and slides in. You moan softly as you feel him penetrate and fill you. He proceeds slowly, afraid of hurting you. When he's completely inside, the three of you let out a sigh in unison. The men stand still, waiting for you to authorize them to start moving.

You had never felt so full before. Having Wonwoo and Mingyu inside you at the same time filled you in ways you only dreamed of. But that alone wasn't enough to put out the fire that consumed your veins.

Mingyu and Wonwoo also feel something different. It’s more then the tight fit of your inner walls hugging them. They feel each other through the thin wall that separated both your wholes. They won’t say it out loud, but it’s is slowly driving them insane.

"You can move now."

They begin to move their hips, each at their own pace. In a matter of seconds, they synchronize their pace. Two pairs of hands caress your entire body, leaving a warm trail wherever they touch.

Your bite your lower lip to hold back your loud moans, feeling like you’ll collapse at any second. Mingyu bites your shoulder to contain his own grunting and Wonwoo growls softly close to your ear, making you even more excited. You hands grab Wonwoo’s ass eagerly. They maintain the rhythm for several minutes, their bodies reaching a feverish state.

Mingyu feels like he's getting dangerously close to his peak, but he refuses to let it happen without you getting there first. So he kisses every available inch of skin and slides his hand between Wonwoo and you, once again stimulating your clit.

"Baby, I'm dying here. I need you to cum for us." he pants between moans.

"I’m almost there."

Wonwoo feels his muscles burn with effort, but he speeds up his pace. You bury your face in his neck and grab him tightly. You try to focus on everything that’s happening, on the hands that touch you, on the lips that wander over her neck, on the two men who are trying so hard to give you pleasure. Giving in to the sensations, when you least expected it, fireworks explode behind your eyelids.

For the second time, your body shudder as you let out a long, contented moan. Seeing you reach your orgasm, the men let go and followed behind, the two falling over the edge together. They slow their movements little by little, enjoying the ecstasy. Wonwoo pulls out, complaining about the loss of contact, and throws himself into the empty space next to Mingyu. He uses the last bit of energy to take you off his lap and place you between him and Wonwoo.

The three of you remain practically motionless for several minutes, your legs intertwined, each one enjoying the dopamine that circulating in your veins. When the cold of the night begins to become unbearable, Mingyu takes you in his arms and Wonwoo the glasses of champagne, and you the apartment.

"You were very good for us, baby." Mingyu praises you softly as he carefully places you on the bed. He plants an almost innocent kiss on your lips and heads to the closet looking for something to wear.

Now that things are over, Wonwoo doesn’t quite know how to act. He notices that his backpack is on the table next to the window and walks over to it, taking off a pair of boxers and putting them on so he doesn't feel so exposed.

"Hey, can you get my panties from the white bag?" you ask with a smile and he does as asked.

He hands the light blue cotton panties to you, who slide the fabric over your trembling legs. Mingyu returns wearing leopard print shorts and a Sid Vicious tshirt.

"Now, besides your panties, did you also lose your blouse, Y/N?" Mingyu teases, returning to the role he usually played.

"It’s not lost, you're wearing it." you reply and pull the hem of his tshirt up. Mingyu rolls his eyes, removes the garment by the collar and hands it for you to wear, but not before stealing another kiss from you.

Wonwoo feels uncomfortable watching the scene, as if he's watching something he shouldn't. "Well, I think it's time to go."

"No!" you exclaim and Wonwoo turns around, his face contorted in confusion. "We're going to watch a movie, I want you here too."

"We'll probably sleep within the first fifteen minutes..." Mingyu says with a laugh. "But you can stay and watch everything if you want."

Wonwoo seems to analyze the proposition. "You want me to sleep here?" He pats his hand on the bed, perplexed.

"Your dick was buried in me until fifteen minutes ago, so why can't we sleep in the same bed?" you retort with a shrug and Mingyu stifles a laugh at your words.

You settle in the middle of the bed and pat the free space on your left side while Mingyu walks to the right side. Wonwoo hesitates, but accepts the invitation.

As soon as he settles down, you lay your head on his chest and Wonwoo lets out a satisfied sound. His warm skin warms your cold cheek.

"You put on the bedding I brought." you comment, smoothing out the pink sheets you gave Mingyu a few months ago, after the two of you ruined a set of his.

"This ugly thing was the only clean one." he shrugs.

"It's not ugly!" You whimper and slap the man.

"It’s very ugly." He laughs while smoothing the affected area. The smile never leaves his face.

"It's not ugly, right Wonwoo?"

The man jumps slightly when he hears his name, his eyes staring at the sheet. "It’s cute." he agrees with you, making Mingyu roll his eyes and you giggle.

"Whatever, let's just pick a movie and sleep." Mingyu takes the remote from the bedside table and turns off the lights using the switch next to the bed.

The bright light on the TV shines and Mingyu chooses the movie Divergent, after much insistence from you. Wonwoo pays attention to the beginning of the it and relaxes into a comfortable position to fall asleep. Mingyu doesn't even try to watch, he hugs you from behind and hides his face in your hair. A few minutes later, you also fall asleep, still snuggled comfortably against Wonwoo’s chest. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo allows the exhaustion to take him to dreamland.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

tags ꩜ @asscoups17 @wonvsmile @porridgesblog @gaslysainz @thepoopdokyeomtouched @sunset-sana @coupsgfsstuff @stagefrjghts @wonuwonder @pepmiw @walkxthexmoon @cecefarm @nerdycheol @thedensworld

thank you for reading! it made me really happy to see you wanted to be tagged in part 2, so i hope i made you justice 🫂🤍

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen hard hours #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo smut #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #minwon smut #wonwoo hard hours #mingyu hard hours #seventeen x reader #my works

[bakuliwrites]

Veins of Gold- Dabi x Reader

Fandom: BNHA/MHA

Relationship: Dabi|Touya Todoroki x Reader

Rating: 18+, MINORS DNI

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Oral S*x, Blowjobs, PIV, Emotional S*x, Soft Dabi, Blood (Dabi's Tears), Shower S*x, Some Angst

Summary: On the one hand, he’s disgusted by how gentle you are; but on the other, Dabi feels a wretched gratitude. A desperate yearning for you to keep going. How long has it been since anyone has shown him any ounce of tenderness? Any iota of softness? You are the only one in his recent memory that has even bothered. And you do it not out of pity or sorrow. But so frustratingly out of love. Dabi hardly feels worthy. Dabi sees himself as a failure, but you are always there to remind him how loved and cherished he truly is.

Read here in this post or over on my AO3.

As Dabi stands before the bathroom mirror, he’s reminded of when he was little: sitting on the granite counter, watching his father shave. He was mesmerized by the razor gliding through white, foamy shaving cream. He couldn’t wait to be just like dad, both as a future hero and everything that comes with being an adult. Including shaving. 

“Dad, when will I get to shave?” Touya’s tiny voice asks as he swings his legs back and forth, the hollow reverb of his heels tapping against the cabinets ringing in his ears. To him, shaving is the mark of being a man. Of being old enough to be a hero. Just like dad. And probably just like All Might. 

“When you’re older, Touya,” his father grunts, not taking his eyes off of his own reflection in the mirror. Being older was a concept that was so far out of young Touya’s vision. Being older would take forever and a day. In the meantime, however, he could practice for his impending adulthood. Touya would take to standing next to Enji in the mornings, a razor protected with a safety guard pressed to his chin. His father would squeeze out a bit of shaving cream and slather it on to Touya’s little face, who would then copy his father’s motions. Touya tried so hard to embody everything he thought his father was. Everything his father wanted him to be. 

The very first time Touya tried to actually shave, he was twelve. He’d noticed the tiny outcroppings of stubble on his chin earlier that day. Delighted, he hid himself in the bathroom and pilfered one of his dad’s razors. With shaving cream lathered on his face, he set to work. Almost immediately, he felt the sharp slice of it cutting his fragile skin. Blood trickled down from the thin sliver on his cheek. The wound bled, and bled, and bled. This wasn’t the first time he’d hurt himself in his pursuit of emulating his father. And it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

Now, as Touya stands before the bathroom mirror, Dabi stares back at him. He finds himself inspecting his skin for any open cuts, but not because he’s been shaving. Burned follicles don’t grow hair anymore. Instead, he’s looking to see if he’s sustained any injuries from his latest battle. His lithe body is covered in burns, piercings and staples holding together what remaining healthy flesh he has left. He looks pieced together haphazardly. Like at any moment, his flames could burst through and singe away the remnants of what remains of Touya Todoroki. 

Good, Dabi thinks to himself with a scowl, Let it all burn. What good has my body ever done for me? Weak. Pathetic. Incapable. 

All his body has ever done is betray him. It can’t withstand the power he possesses. What’s the point of having such a beautiful gift if he can’t even use it without hurting himself? His father saw the irony in it. Too bad Touya was too stupid to realize that. 

Dabi cards his fingers through his spiked hair. The face that stares back at him has lost the vibrance of youth, the enthusiasm of his childhood. Touya is worn down, weary, crumpled. Dabi’s wrath flickers in his irises, blue flame swimming in pools of white, the dark center of his pupils deep, abyssal.

So much for making his father proud. Dabi is the embodiment of Enji’s disappointment. His scarred skin is a daily reminder of Touya’s ultimate failure. Sure, his firepower rivals Endeavor's. Maybe even surpasses it. But the sacrifice he’s had to make to attain that level of power has been monumental. His purpled, pierced, stapled skin is proof enough. 

Haggard, he lets his hands rest against the counter and hangs his head. Sometimes, looking at himself is painful. He can feel the memory of flame, searing his skin, making it blister and burn. The ashen air of the forest scalding his esophagus, parching his lungs. The puckered, leathery bags under his eyes make him look constantly exhausted. So much of his skin is that way now: tired. What a gruesome sight, he thinks to himself.

“Fuck,” he swears quietly, noticing the trickle of blood pooling from one of the staples in his cheek. He must’ve snagged it on his shirt when he was undressing. Frequently, his clothing or bedsheets get caught on his piercings, tugging at the metal and, in turn, pulling at his skin. He’s gotten used to the feeling, often not noticing until he finds a dark little spot of dried blood. 

Dabi grabs a nearby washcloth, wetting it under some warm water and pressing it against his cheek. He hardly notices you entering the room until he feels your hands snake around his waist, gently ghosting along his hip bones and settling on his stomach. You must have heard his outcry, summoned by the whispered profanity. The tiny, featherlight kisses you lay upon the length of his spine attempt to gently pull him from his self-flagellation. Even if you have no idea what’s going through his head right now, he knows you can probably tell. 

“Hmm,” you hum against him as your lips reach his shoulder blade, “What are you thinking about?” 

Failure. Disappointment. All the weak, negative emotions he wouldn’t dare show anyone else in the League. Dabi is confident. Cocky. Nonchalant. To the rest of the world, he’s enigmatic and driven, passionate and grandiose. He puts on a show for everyone else in order to hide the soft, vulnerable corpse of Touya buried in his soul. He shrouds himself in hatred and anger. A protective cloak of flame that drives back anyone who tries to guess at who he really is. 

However, your gentility has always been capable of drawing him out of his darkness. Your touch is a beacon in a foggy sea, piercing light out of a curtain of dense, impenetrable mist. Before he can say anything to you, you come around to his side, noticing the washcloth he’s got pressed against his face. He feels his tense muscles loosen at your touch, the heaviness of his thoughts lifted just a little.

“Did you cut yourself again?” you whisper softly, brows furrowed with concern. 

“Yeah. Damn staple got caught on my shirt,” he returns, chuckling ruefully. You gesture for him to hand you the washcloth and he obliges. Tenderly, you dab at the wound, careful not to snag the cloth on the staple either. Crimson blooms across the surface of the white towel, the scent of iron hanging in the air, sharp and metallic. Dabi gazes at you, wondering why you’re with him, before glancing at himself in the mirror. He can’t fathom why you’d want to touch his gnarled, scarred skin. He reaches down to rest his hands on your hips, feeling the hint of bone beneath soft, supple skin. Every inch of you is plush, a welcome sensation on his calloused fingertips. Dabi is edges, angles, sharpness, while you are velvety, rounded, tender.

You set the washcloth down on the counter before gently tracing the divide between Dabi’s scarred and unscarred skin. His burns are wrinkled, leathery under your touch, a sensation only broken when you graze one of the smooth metal piercings that hold him together.

“Pretty gross, huh?” he puts forth, watching curiously as you move to caress the angles of his cheeks. “Gross,” not because they’re scars. “Gross,” because they are constant reminders of what a letdown Touya was to his father. In their folds, they collect Dabi’s self-loathing and malcontent. Every day, he marvels at the fact that you don’t pull your hand away in disgust when you touch him. He wonders if you can feel the wells of resentment that pool in every wrinkle.

“Not in the slightest,” you return quietly, a loving beam dancing on your lips. You rest your hands on either side of his face. Your eyes are searching for other cuts he might’ve missed. On the one hand, he’s disgusted by how gentle you are; but on the other, Dabi feels a wretched gratitude. A desperate yearning for you to keep going. How long has it been since anyone has shown him any ounce of tenderness? Any iota of softness? You are the only one in his recent memory that has even bothered. And you do it not out of pity or sorrow. But so frustratingly out of love. Dabi hardly feels worthy.

“You’re like Kintsugi,” you suggest. He looks quizzically at you, yanked abruptly from his melancholic ruminations.

“What?” he questions, tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion. Another soft smile from you. That damn smile.

“Kintsugi,” you repeat, “It’s the art of piecing broken pottery back together with gold.” As you say this, you slide a thumb over one of the gilded piercings underneath his eye. 

“Much like a vase or a bowl that’s been broken, you’re being held together again by veins of gold. You might’ve been shattered by something in your past, but you didn’t let it break you,” you go on, tone suffused with affection. Dabi merely stares at you, wide-eyed and confused. Normally he would scoff at something like that. Say, “That’s stupid,” and dismiss the idea. But for some reason, when you say it, it’s endearing .  

“I don’t think anyone’s ever compared me to a bowl before,” he teases, trying to downplay the sentiment. He’s not sure he’s worthy of being compared to an artwork as elegant as that. He feels more like he’s been pieced back together with thin concrete and jagged shards of metal.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything!” you laugh, lighting up the tiny bathroom with your smile. And Dabi finds himself smiling with you, though he raises a skeptical eyebrow at your suggestion. Your look softens once again as you caress the pads of your thumbs against the angles of his cheekbones. 

You make Dabi feel seen. Heard. Paid attention to. And not for his potential to surpass a great hero. Not for his power or any expectations you might have of him. You don’t have any expectations and you certainly haven’t imposed any on him. You embrace him, Dabi, Touya, as he is. At this very moment in time. You don’t see him as Touya, who will surpass All Might. Or Dabi, who will end Endeavor (and likely himself in the process). You have asked for nothing in return. Your kindness and love have never been conditional. This is the first time in a long time he’s felt companionship without obligation or condition.

“I think you wear your strength beautifully, Touya,” you breathe. Touya, he loves it when his name, his real name, flutters from your lips. You’re the only one that gets to call him that now. It’s a secret the two of you share. Soon, the world will know it. But not yet. For now, he’s Dabi to everyone else, but you.

Dabi, Touya, whoever he is, grits his teeth. He can't cry anymore. Not since he burned away his tear ducts. But he can feel the sting of evaporated tears in his eyes. Dammit, why is he so emotional around you? Dabi pinches the bridge of his nose, squinting and turning away. He doesn't want you to see him like this. Weak, tragic. He bites his tongue, hoping it’ll stop the impending flow of sanguine tears. 

"Hey," you whisper gently, turning him towards you, pressing kiss after kiss to his jawline, all the way to the corners of his lips. 

His singed ducts leak warm blood. It flows down his cheeks, stains them crimson, and drips to the floor beneath. The droplets splatter, tiny massacres on the clean ground. He feels your thumbs on his cheeks, quick to wipe up his metallic tears. It's all too much sometimes: his self-hatred battling with your uplifting words. Your constant, radiant affection. 

Dabi feels frustrated that he's not able to as easily express his love for you as you are for him. Often he feels pent up, stifled, unsure of how to go about showing you how much you mean to him. You grace him with your love so easily, so readily. All he feels he can do is greedily accept it and hope you know how much you mean to him. But that doesn't cut it for him. No, he needs to show you.

He leans down, breath fanning softly against your lips as he whispers, “You’re too good to me.” 

A breathless tension hovers between you before you make the move to close the distance, tongue tracing his parted lips, begging for entrance, while his hands ghost along your curves. As your palms smooth over the lean muscles of his abdomen, Dabi deepens the kiss, tongue grazing your teeth. Your nails drag along his stomach, sending electric tingles throughout his whole body. Your kisses grow sloppy, yearning and needy. Dabi’s hands can’t get enough of you. He’s kneading the supple flesh of your thighs, grabbing handfuls of your ass, and wanting desperately to free the strain in his pants. Your hand moves to palm his growing bulge, drawing from Dabi a salacious moan. 

He’s tugging at your shirt, parting from you just long enough to slip it over your head. He smirks at the whimper you release when he lifts you into his arms, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Join me in the shower?” he breathes between kisses. All you can do is nod enthusiastically, unable to form words as Dabi dips his head to ensnare the pert bud of your nipple between his teeth. He carries you towards the shower, setting you down to get the water started. While you wait for it to warm up, Dabi toys with the hem of your underwear, tickling the tender flesh of your pelvis before dipping his fingers into your heat. He drags two along your wet folds, sucking a breath in through his teeth as you make quick work of his pants. They drop to the ground, pooling around his feet, followed by his underwear. His cock springs free, relieving some of his building pressure. 

“So wet, just for me, babygirl,” Dabi purrs, mischief dancing in his cerulean eyes. His fingers are slick with you as he teases your entrance, hungrily capturing your lips again. Your tragic mewls and pathetic whines are music to his ears as he thrusts two of his fingers into your entrance, his thumb circling your clit. He feels your fingers grasp his dick, swiping your thumb over the bead of cum that sits at his tip. His moan reverberates through your chest as you pump rhythmically, slow and languorous. He follows suit, fingers moving slow and purposeful. He holds out his free hand under the shower stream, checking to see if it’s warm enough for you. Satisfied, he quickly withdraws himself from you, chuckling at the whimper you release as he leaves you empty.

His smirk is positively devilish as he meets your eye. His gaze is intense, dark with lust, as he slips his two slick fingers into his mouth. He licks them clean, dragging his fingers torturously slow past his lips, releasing them with a wet pop.

"Fuck, doll, you taste delicious," Dabi groans, gently pushing you into the shower and shutting the glass door behind the two of you. 

“Touya, you’re terrible,” you coo, and he can’t get enough of how flushed you are. He’s blazing, heat building in his core, fire burning through his veins. As soon as the water hits his skin, it starts to evaporate, filling the shower with steam. He pulls you close to him, your body flush to his. His erection prods at your stomach while his hands massage your tits. He’s about to lean down to capture your lips with his again when your eyes fill with an impish glee.

“Sit,” you command, lips curving into a coy smile. Dabi’s dick twitches with your demanding tone. God, he loves it when you take control. He obliges, like a good boy, sitting himself down on the little stone ledge in the corner of the shower. His cock curves upwards, sitting pretty against his stomach, cum glistening at the tip. There’s a flash of white hair at the base of his dick, leading up in a fine line towards his navel. He watches with wide, blue eyes as you kneel before him, trailing kiss after kiss up the insides of his thighs. You’re extra careful over any of his staples and burned skin, nibbling gently and only leaving love-bites on his healthier flesh. 

“Shit,” he grunts as you inch closer to his cock. You giggle, clearly delighted by Dabi’s blushing cheeks and dopey, glazed look. Your eyes are filled with a playful light as you press a light kiss to Dabi’s swollen tip. He lets his head fall back as you drag your tongue along his length, a raspy groan escaping his lips. Your fingers grasp his thighs, digging into them, while you take him in your mouth. Your skilful tongue swirls around his tip. He tries his best not to move too much, but he can’t help the bucking of his hips as you bob your head up and down. 

Dabi grasps at the glass for purchase, pressing his palm to the steamy surface, leaving behind a smeared handprint as you take him even further into you. His legs are shaking with how close he is, but he’s not quite ready to finish yet.

“Fuck, baby, so close,” he grunts, vapor rolling off his overheated body, “Wanna- come inside you.” 

With his struggling plea, you let your mouth slide off his cock, rising to smash your lips against his. He returns your hungry kiss with equal desperation, tasting himself on you, salty and warm. He pulls you onto his lap, hands gliding with ease over your slick curves. He can’t get enough of you as he lines you up over his erection, slowly lowering you onto him. You moan into him, filling him like burning smoke. His hands grip your ass, fingers digging into your tender flesh. He holds you there a moment, the feeling of your tight cunt around his sensitive dick making him joyously dizzy. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, pulsing up into you. 

“Ah!” you gasp, grasping the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck, “Touya, you make me feel so amazing.” 

You grind your hips into his, the lewd slap of skin on skin made even louder by how soaked the two of you are in the shower stream. Inside you, Dabi feels whole. He feels safe, loved, complete. He envelops you in his arms, holding you close as you ride him, your lips finding their way to the sensitive skin beneath his ear. Here, in the sanctity of your home, in the safety of this shower, Dabi forgets what it means to be forgotten. To be abandoned. The world the two of you inhabit is temporarily limited to this steamy shower, hidden in an eden of vapor and water. 

When Dabi exhales, a wispy trail of smoke pours from his lips. You ignite him, warm lamplight on a pleasant summer night. He’s drunk on you: on your body, your adoration and love. He draws you up, feeling your walls shuddering around his twitching cock. He presses his forehead to yours, wanting to feel as close as he possibly can while the two of you come undone. 

“Touya,” he hears you breathe over the gentle roar of the shower. Your eyes are bright, the corners crinkling joyously as you twitter, “You’re beautiful. So beautiful, my darling.” 

Dabi feels himself break. Never in a million years would he have imagined himself here, cocooned by your warmth and affection, learning how to love himself. Learning that he is loved and cared for and cherished by someone. His cock twitches one final time before Dabi releases into you, threads of hot cum filling you to the brim. Your walls pulse around him and your eyes squeeze shut as you ride Dabi through your orgasm. Your pace is erratic, hips rocking against his. Your lips crash into his, fervent kisses passed back and forth as you each reach ecstasy. 

Dabi feels tears spill over his cheekbones, but this time, they’re not imbued with blood. Molten gold flows from him, snaking in sparkling rivers down his face, pooling in his scars. Your whispered, “I love you, Touya,” graces his ears. He returns this with equal fervor. 

When Dabi is positive he’s spent himself in you, he makes sure you’ve ridden him to your content. He litters your collarbone and breasts with kisses as you catch your breath. He carefully slips himself out of you, feeling his hot cum dripping down your thighs. When you lean back, he beams at your flushed cheeks and radiant smile. Black hair dye drips down his shoulders, washing away and circling the drain, leaving the hair on his head a stark white. You gently card your fingers through it.

“You are stronger than you know, Touya,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his, “You are so loved. So adored.”  

He presses his forehead to yours, letting his eyelids fall shut as you wrap your arms around him. You remind him that he is not a failure. He is not a disappointment or a burden or forgotten. All the pain of the past, the agony of his present, and the impending future are forgotten when he is encompassed in your light. His body isn’t entirely useless. It can bring pleasure to someone dear to him. It can bring pleasure to himself, too. His flames are destructive, but he does not always have to destroy. He can create, he can build, and he has you to remind him of that. 

“Kintsugi, ” he murmurs, finding endless comfort in the way your fingers softly brush through the pale strands of his hair, “I guess I can get used to being compared to a bowl.”

Your chuckle makes him smile.

“A very beautiful bowl,” you laugh as he beams, pressing his lips to yours. 

A/N: Finally finished this fic! It's been a lot of waffling back and forth between what direction I wanted to go with it, and from it, several other Dabi fics have been born. Those won't come out for a little bit though. But you can certainly look forward to more Dabi smut from me! For now, I wanted to write something soft and spicy for him. I adore Dabi. I think he is so beautiful and passionate. I love him as a villain. His backstory is so very sorrowful. I wanted to give him some comfort and peace. As always, thank you for reading! Any likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I hope you are all doing well in this new year! Lots of love!

#touya todoroki #dabi todoroki #dabi x reader #touya x reader #touya x you #dabi x you #mha #bnha #bnha fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #dani writes #spicy #dabi smut

[srorgana1]

Angel Eyes

Rock Star Kylo Ren x Reader/Knights of Ren

TW: Rough Sex, Spanking, Dirty Talk, "cheating", Roleplay

A spicy one shot from the Into the Reverb Universe in which Kylo and Y/N change it up on a special day.

I hope you all enjoy ❤️

A huge thanks to my beautiful friend and Beta @mrs-zimmerman ❤️ i love you girlfriend

Kylo grunts as he moves the sander across the wood, careful not to overwork the edges and sides he had just finished. He squints, looking for imperfections in the wood as the afternoon sunshine pours in through the floor to ceiling windows. He stands and stretches his back, giving his aching muscles a reprieve from being hunched over for so long.

He lets out a groan as he raises his arms above his head, further relieving the pressure. They flex and loosen up below his thin company t-shirt. He personally relishes in the burn of a hard day's work, knowing that he will then be rewarded with more pronounced muscles that are quite pleasing to the eye.

Maybe she will like them, he thinks as he fixes his safety glasses. They have been in each other's orbit since the start of the project, a full kitchen reno. He and his company are the top in LA and he is well compensated for his talent and skill as a craftsman. He didn't expect anything different when he came to the in-home consultation, but he was so very wrong when they were disturbed by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen strolling in in nothing but a very sensual sports bra and yoga pants set.

He remembers having to keep his jealousy in check when this perfect female specimen strolled over and kissed that arrogant asshole who he had been talking to for the last hour. But then she looked at him and he knew instantly she wanted him. He could see it in her eyes, how they darkened as they skipped along his muscles and tattoos.

It's been almost two months since then and they are still playing this game. He still catches her at times looking at him, lust clouding her gaze. He chuckles lowly as he turns the sander off. He knows she likes what she sees, that's for sure.

She wants him, he knows it but he has to play this right. He has to let that sweet piece of ass come to him. He can be patient. It’ll be ten times sweeter when she does, desperate for what he can give her. When she does, oh when she does he will defile her so bad and fuck her so hard and deep she will feel him a month from now. Honestly he wouldn’t even care or stop if her husband showed up. He would smile like a madman and go harder just to show him who the real man is around here.

Fuck he's hard now and hot. How did it get so fucking hot in here? He can feel the sweat dripping off him, some of it fogging up his safety glasses. He stands and wipes his face with his shirt. It's soaked through. Damn, must have been working much harder than he thought, totally distracted by his dirty fantasy.

He makes an impulsive decision and removes it, sighing in relief as the air hits his bare skin. He removes his safety glasses and puts them up on his head for safe keeping as he goes to find a towel in the guest bathroom he has been allowed to use. He steps back out when he catches the sound of the front door closing and the sound of small steps heading towards him.

He holds back a groan as her perfume begins to float in the air, an alluring mix of floral, patchouli and vanilla. He doesn’t know the brand nor does he care, but he does know he wants to find all those secret spots that would taste like that. He shivers at the thought as he sees her enter the large main living space.

She is distracted by her phone and bags, unaware of his company. He stares and waits for her to acknowledge him. “Oh I didn’t know you were here” her surprised voice says behind him. He can literally feel her eyes on him, appraising his bare upper body. He fights off another shiver, setting a bored and unamused expression on his face before he turns to face her.

She looks like temptation incarnate. Her curvy but trim figure is perfectly accentuated by her black sheath dress with cropped leather jacket. He wants to take a bite out of those juicy curves and make her squirm and squeal. Her hair is perfectly styled as always in a sleek ponytail, calling him to grab it tight and tug at it as he sucks bruises into her skin.

But it's her eyes, her angelic eyes are his undoing. They ensnare him in their doe like expressive nature, calling him to fall into them and never resurface. Suddenly all he wants is to see how they would look when they are all scrunched up and teary from overwhelming pleasure he and only he can give her.

Even so, he cannot show weakness. If he does, she will know she has him by the balls. He needs to show her he is in charge. He stares her down as her eyes unabashedly take him in, all heavy muscle and tattooed lines. “My truck was outside '' he says in an unamused voice, crossing his arms across his chest.

She takes a step forward, kicking off her beaded sandals and continues her unabashed appraisal of him. “Is that so? Well glad I'm getting my money's worth” she croons out, placing her bags onto the kitchen island. Her eyes never leave him as she further approaches him, shifting out of her jacket and exposing more skin.

He can see that lust swirling in her eyes once more as a mischievous smirk crosses her face. “That's quite a situation you got there Mr. Ren” she says slyly, rounding the island towards him. He knows she can see his erection trapped in his jeans and it pulses and throbs at her attention.

She slinks closer, only an arms length away. “Looks like you could use some help” she says, her eyes heavy as her perfectly manicured hand lightly grazes his thigh, so dangerously close. He tries and fails to hold back a groan, his hips shifting towards her touch.

“Careful sweetheart” he growls, his fingers itching to grab her and feel her at long last. She chuckles, her fingers now tracing his length up and down along his thigh “No I don't think I will. You see, I have needs that often are not met by my husband. Certain preferences you can say. But you Mr Ren, look like you could be a very capable and viable option.”

He meets her eyes, a vicious smile splitting his face. “Well sweetheart, if that's what you are needing, I am willing to provide that service. I am nothing but all encompassing” he says lowly, loving how her thighs squeeze together tightly at his response.

She nods, lightly gripping him through his jeans. He groans again, his hips canting lightly towards her touch. He feels like a caged tiger, just waiting for the time to strike. Just waiting for her to give the go ahead, so he can grab a handful of that pert little ass and let her feel what she does to him.

His patience with her wanes when she starts speaking again. “Hmm I love the power play. I fucking love it when a man takes whats his but also when he is putty in my hand” she says huskally, continuing to pet him with increasingly needy strokes.

He is obscenely hard and can feel his boxers becoming more and more soaked. He never in a million years would have guessed they have such similar wants and needs. He loves it when a woman brings him to his fucking knees just as much as fucking them like the whores they are. God above, he cannot wait to fucking ruin her.

She smiles and takes his hand, leading him over to the large L shaped couch. He swallows thickly as he watches her lower herself to her knees, her short black fingernails tracing his thighs muscles. She looks up at him, keeping eye contact as she slowly takes his zipper down.

He holds back a shudder as he assists her by shimmying his hips to allow his jeans to shift down as she pulls his cock out of his boxers. “Fuck I knew you would be big” she groans, her small hand exploring and giving some experimental pumps. Fucking hell.

“Fucking suck my cock, you little slut” he growls, his inked up hand gripping her hair and pulling her closer. She legit moans at his words as she starts peppering his groin and the length of his cock with teasing kisses. She works her way down to his glans, licking it lightly with her tongue.

He moans outright, overwhelmed by the feeling of her hot little mouth on him. He struggles to keep his eyes open when she turns her attention to the tip, teasing him as her hands explore his balls, thighs and ass. She hums against him, tightening her lips around him as she squeezes a handful of his ass.

“Fuck” he groans, tugging at her hair. She lets out a whine around him, her tongue now doing tight little circular movements focusing every couple turns to dip into his slit. Her hand migrates down again, lightly stroking that special spot behind his balls. He jolts, his pleasure doubling as he rocks his hips harder “so fucking good. Fuck.”

He feels her chuckle around his cock, taking a bit more of him in. He must say her technique is masterful, her mouth and hand working in tandem. She traces the underside vein with her tongue as she bobs up and down, her perfectly pink lips stretched around him. He knows he is probably too big for her to take it all. There have only been a few who have but damn it, he wants to test her limits and if nothing else hear her fucking gag.

He lets out a growl and pulls her all the way down, hitting the back of her throat. She chokes almost instantly and struggles to keep it together. He legit almost comes as he watches her blink back tears as she opens her jaw more, allowing more space for him to do whatever the fuck he wants to do to her. His hips twitch with excitement as he begins to rock into her wet willing mouth.

“Fucking take it” he growls, unable to hold his tongue any longer. “You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this. That feel good sweetheart? Does my cock feel and taste better than that worthless microdick that husband of yours is packing? What would he think if he caught you like this, on your knees with my fat cock stuffed down your throat?”

She moans loudly around him, making the head of his cock to rub against the roof of her mouth. He shuts his eyes in bliss, reveling in the feeling of her. He could blissfully come like this but he needs to focus on his original goal: to have all of her in every way.

He pulls out quickly, admiring the string of spit still connecting his cock to her lips. Her eyes are wide and big as she licks her swollen lips, panting lightly. He pulls her up, turning her around quickly and bending her over the armrest. He takes no time, flipping the skirt of her dress over her hips and ripping her panties down to her ankles.

He growls at the sight of her wet pink folds and her perfect ass as he glides his hands over her curves. His hands finally able to feel that soft skin that has been haunting his dreams since taking this job. She responds beautifully, wiggling in his hold and exposing herself more to him while whining his name.

“What's that? You want this?” he teases, rubbing his cock against her wet folds. He hears her moan out a yes as he smacks her ass hard, catching her by surprise. She jolts and he legit sees her pussy clench. “Fuck” she keens, canting her hips back for more.

“Fuck is right” he growls again, smacking her ass again “gonna smack that cute little ass red and then fuck you so hard you won’t know which way is up.” He lands another, watching the physical representation of his lust bloom upon her skin. She seems to love it as well by the sounds she is making and how she grinds against him.

“He is too much of a pussy to treat you like this isn't he? He would never smack your ass raw and make you beg for his cock. Oh but I will sweetheart, I fucking will” he says, landing another hit. “Fuck yes. Please, Do it, please” she keens, her hips rocking back even more.

“Good girl” he groans, taking the opportunity to feel her now dripping cunt literally weeping for him. He gets lost in the moment, allowing her a small sliver of control. She shifts her ass up at his next rock of his hips, making the head of his cock graze very closely to her entrance. He hisses at the feeling, his lust boiling over. He feels legit feral.

He grabs her hips and thrusts in roughly. She yelps at his intrusion as he lets out a long moan. She is perfectly tight around him and he takes a quick second to relish the feeling before he starts a vicious pace. She sobs in pleasure, her hands scrumbling along the couch for something to hold onto. “Is this what you wanted?” he snarls, looming more over her. “Yes K-Kylo yes” she babbles, her breath shuddering in time with his thrusts.

Something in him snaps in him hearing her say his name. His hips quicken as he grips at her neck pulling her up closer to his chest. He can feel her clench down on him as her breath hitches between her panting moans. “God you are so fucking tight. Like a fucking vice. You like being manhandled like this, sweetheart? You like these big hands acting as a fucking necklace?” he teases, squeezing her airway just so.

She keens, her body winding up around him. She is the perfect height for this, making the angle sublime. Her cunt squeezes him deliciously making him feel slightly light headed. He leans in, rubbing his large nose along her bare shoulder and up her neck, finally allowing himself to taste her skin.

“You feel so good sweetheart. I can only imagine how good your ass will feel as well. God damn, I cannot wait to fuck your ass like this sweetheart” he snarls into her skin. She clenches around him at his filthy words and he knows she would enjoy it as much as he would.

“I knew you were a kinky slut. Ughh, cannot wait to ruin you forever. No one will be able to satisfy you like I can and you and I both know you will come crawling every time you need fucked. Now give me what I want” he says, biting into the meat of her shoulder.

She responds instantly, letting out a scream as her orgasm overtakes her. She gushes onto him, her cunt fluttering and squeezing his length. “Oh fuck yes” he groans her skin, his pace lightening up slightly to enjoy her release. The sounds were obscene, music to his ears.

But he needs more. He needs to see her face when she orgasms again and when he fills her up. He lets go of her neck, assisting her back down onto the couch. He watches her pant, her ribs and back muscles moving rapidly in and out. She looks back at him, her dark eye makeup slightly smeared and face flushed. She looks wrecked already and he’s not even close to being done with her yet.

He pulls out, causing her to gasp. He admires her cream coating himself and her puffy cunt. “Kylo please” she whines, wiggling her ass at him as she kicks off her panties. He smiles at her desperateness. Good fucking girl, give it all to me.

He swings her around and picks her into his arms and impales her on his cock. She shouts out, still sensitive from her recent release. “Don’t worry I got you” he gasps, his eyes never leaving hers as he takes a couple steps to his long forgotten work table and laying her atop his construction plans.

In this position, he can now truly appreciate her like he has dreamt about. Of them together in carnal bliss and he all flushed and wild. But this, this is so much better than he could ever come up with in his mind. Her body is alight with pleasure and it’s stunning.

Fuck he wants to see this every fucking day. He’s got to fuck her and he’s already addicted. His eyes follow her perfect form, his eyes stuck on that secret prize peeking out between her breasts. That delicate tattoo he wants to trace with his tongue and make her call out his name.

He wonders what other little surprises she has on her. Maybe another time he will explore her and map all those special spaces out and give them the attention they deserve. But this is not that time. His eyes move down to her exposed cunt, her labia stretching obscenely around him. He groans at the sight, pulling out once more to see her arousal leak out of her.

“Legs up sweetness” he says, tapping her thigh. She obeys, resting her legs on his strong shoulders. The change in position and the angle making them both groan again in pleasure. “Fuck, you are something else” he says between heaving breaths, his hips moving faster with more forceful thrusts, far deeper then before. “Fuck, fuck Kylo. Please. Fuck” she gasps, squeezing her eyes closed to keep her tears from falling.

“Look at me!” he bellows, unable to hold back now. He’s too far gone. Her beautiful eyes meet his in shock. He almost breaks character at the look she gives him, but he is too far gone. It's a primal dark thing inside him and nothing will stop him from taking what is his.

Her eyes begin to overflow with tears as he continues his assault. This is exactly what he wanted - to see her debatched under him, her eyes heavy-lidded and tears of pleasure running down her flawless skin. “I’ve dreamt about this sweetheart so many times. Of you crying while impaled on my cock, f-fuck” he gasps, his warning signs of his impending orgasm licking at the base of his spine.

She gasps and keens his name again, her fingertips reaching and grazing his contracting abdominal muscles. Her touch is electric, spurring his orgasm forward. He can literally feel her pleasure through it and it makes him want to give her the best orgasm of her life. He moans her name, gripping her calves and fucks her harder.

She is tightening and fluttering around him, a tell tale sign of her release. He focuses on her quickening breaths as her jaw drops open between her moans. It’s so fucking perfect. “I feel you baby, you ready sweetheart?” he groans, preparing to allow himself to go over the edge with her.

She nods once before throwing her head back as her body lets go. He cannot believe how tight she clamps down on his cock and how much she drenches him. It immediately triggers his own orgasm. He lets out a filthy roar as he pounds into her, pumping his hot cum into her. It feels never ending. His whole body tingles in pleasure as he continues to fill up her perfect cunt, moaning her name like a needy prayer.

He rides the high and slows his hips down to a gentle rock, finally allowing them both time to recover. He opens his eyes, taking in the aftermath of what they just did. She grins at him as she catches her breath, her skin flushed and shimmering with sweat. He drops a kiss onto her calf and leaning his head against the other.

“Is that what you were envisioning baby girl?” he says, his body spent. He leans against the table, his cock softening inside but doesn’t pull out yet. It’s something you both enjoy after sex, that afterglow and the closeness of being truly one. “That and so much more Ky” you say with a small laugh “thank you.” “My pleasure baby” he says, pushing the hair from your eyes.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad did I? I got a little carried away” he says, focusing on the softness of your hair. “Ky, if it was too much I would’ve used our safe word. I fucking loved every minute and I could tell you did too” she responds, grabbing his hand to kiss his tattood knuckles.

He cracks a full smile finally, overwhelmed with your love. He lets go of your legs, allowing you to move them into a much more comfortable position around his hips. “That I did, it was pretty fucking hot.” You beam at him as he reaches for your hand while the other lightly traces the lines between your breasts. “I cannot tell you how sexy you look in this” he says as he leans down and kisses your breasts.

“Thank you my love but I think your actions definitely showed me more than any words could say” you respond, running your hands through his wild dark hair. You feel his tongue trace your tattoo before leaving soft kisses up your chest, finally stopping right above your heart. “Best day ever” he whispers into your skin.

He smirks as you tug at his hair, a silent plea. He leaves one more kiss over your heart and moves to your lips. “Happy anniversary baby girl, I couldn’t have asked for anything more” he breathes before finally kissing you properly.

He groans into the kiss, loving the feeling of your soft lips against his own. It’s sweet and tender, so different from the rough fucking they just burned through. He pulls back slightly, nuzzling his nose with yours. “How about we get cleaned up and then we can move on to today's other plans?'' he asks. As if on cue, your stomach rumbles loudly at the mention of filet mignon and stuffed portabellos, making you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the timing.

“C'mon babe” he says, shifting his hands under your ass and lifting you into his arms “can’t let the wife starve”. “Damn right sir” you snark, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckles and shakes his head. How did he get so lucky to find you and make you his? He still doesn’t know but he thanks his lucky stars everyday. He carries you off to the bedroom, looking forward to an amazing dinner and a life full of amazing love.

If you enjoyed here is where you can find the original story and other one-shots from the Into The Reverb Universe:

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#adam driver #kylo ren au #knights of ren #kylo ren x reader #star wars au #kylo ren #kylo x y/n #rockstar! kylo ren #kylo fanfic #starwarsficnetwork #music au #kylo x reader #kylo ren smut #adamdriver #adcu fanfiction #modern au #Spotify

[writersbarrierblock]

An Afternoon at Ramona's

gif not mine

pairing: Ramona Flowers x Fem!Reader warnings: none, reader is said to have long-ish hair word count: 827 summary: you think about cutting your hair, ramona makes you too nervous, gideon the cat gets pets.

in celebration of the upcoming scott pilgrim anime on netflix!

______________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Ramona’s voice reverbs around the small bathroom you both are cramped in. 

You stand in front of the mirror, and you see your own hesitant look on your face. You steel yourself, and look at the currently green haired woman through the reflection. You give her a short nod, breathing in harshly. 

She has on one hand a pair of scissors you just found in one of her kitchen cabinets, and on the other hand some of your hair. You proposed the idea in the first place, and are now feeling immense pressure to see it through. You wanted to be spontaneous, you wanted something different, you wanted to be, … well… like Ramona. 

The girl behind you was cool and confident, she didn’t care about a lot of things, but showed when she did wholeheartedly. She was like a fire to you, wild and unpredictable. You were just a measly moth attracted to it, unknowing of the consequences. 

But there weren’t that many downsides to being around Ramona, as a friend. You two hung out a lot after meeting one another around Toronto, and you were close. At least you thought you were close, you still had a lot to learn about the tough rollerskating American. This caused you to really want to impress her, all the time. 

So now, you’re cutting your hair. And you haven’t figured out how short yet. 

“How short do you want it?” Ramona asks, running a hand through your hair. You stop your eyes from rolling back at the sensation, and you try to figure out how short is too crazy for you. 

“How about,” she takes a section between her two fingers and stops right below your ear, “here?” 

Your eyes widen, and you start to sputter. “T-Too short!” you exclaim. Ramona laughs at your reaction, slightly muttering “So cute,” before putting aside the scissors. She taps your shoulder, motioning you to turn to her. 

Suddenly, you’re very close to her face. Wow, this bathroom is really small. You try to control your breath as she looks at the top of your head and trails down to the length of your hair. “I don’t know why you want to cut it,” she twirls an end of your hair around her fingers, “Your hair is really cute the way it is,” she says matter-of-factly. 

You gulp at the closeness, and try to avoid eye contact. “Yeah, I don’t know. We should just forget it.” Ramona gives you a look, before guiding your chin to make you look her in the eye. 

Swirls of brown stare you down, and you feel your hands start to shake at your sides. You’ve never felt like this with any girl before, Ramona just makes you really nervous. It’s not fear, although you are aware of her seemingly-out of this world stuff she has around her. It’s a different kind of nervousness, one that you’re scared to name. Her lips purse as if she’s analysing you, and your eyes flicker down at the movement before looking away, feeling heat rising to your cheeks. 

She hums, “We’ll put a pin on it for now. When you’ve made up your mind.” And with that, she exits the bathroom, leaving the door ajar for you to follow her. You let out a breath, not even noticing when you’ve stopped breathing. You try to pull yourself together before joining her in the kitchen. 

She’s already got water boiling, and opens her cabinet to grab two teabags. One for her, and the other one you always get when you’re at her place. You sit down at the table, wringing your hands. 

“Did you hear about that thingy happening downtown?” You start, the silence in the place getting to you. You spot Gideon sprawled near the window, stretching his legs. He jumps down and walks towards you, rubbing against your leg. You pet him, hearing him meow and purr. 

“That cat’s been loving you more than he loves me.” She says as she sits down, placing one of the mugs near you. She slowly blows on hers before taking a sip. “Maybe it’s my charming personality,” you reply before taking a sip yourself. 

“Mm, it won me over.” she says. You almost choke on hot tea, burning your tongue. You cough, and wince. She looks at you, smiling, and your brain goes empty. Gideon meows to the side, walking away after your sudden outburst. 

You look down, not knowing what to say. “I, uh…” You try to start, but Ramona waves you off. “I’m sorry. Wrong timing,” she says, “Just couldn’t help it.” 

Her grin doesn’t go away, and you start to smile. “Did you really mean that?” you ask, tentatively. She nods, “Yeah, you’re just too easy to tease, I can’t help it sometimes,” she says before taking another sip. 

Heat rises to your cheeks again, and she lets out a deep chuckle. 

#ramona flowers x reader #scott pilgrim imagines #ramona flowers x fem!reader #ramona flowers imagine #scott pilgrim x reader

[papaver-decervicatus]

tiktok keeps recommending me videos of bassists and I cannot stop thinking about julius because of you

First ask ever, let’s go!!! Let me, not at all, remedy this issue you’ve found yourself with, anon! Answer Below the 'read more'

Most of what Julius plays is in the safety and privacy of his own home, and it’s not a hobby he ever really brings up. If anyone knows about it and is egging him on to join a local bar-band while out, he has to be about 6 beers in to even entertain the idea. If the lights in the venue won’t blind him on the stage he does require being blindfolded for stage fright reasons. 

He usually starts predictable and “universal” with something like Pink Floyd’s Money or Superstitious by Stevie Wonder, he’s always partial to a little Super Freak by Rick James, too. The sort of stuff you’d find on a ‘Top Ten Bass Lines of All Time!’ list because for the most part those are songs that are popular in their own right without the kick-ass (if a little sanitized) baseline. But that’s not where his heart is, his heart has always been with Heavy Metal (Metallica, Black Sabbath, for a more recent example see anything in the Doom Metal subculture/subgenre like Ramesses and Valhall) and Neue Duetsche Härte (think Oomph! and Rammestein.) And I’m not talking slipknot, Tin or Steel levels of metal, I mean straight up Mercury or Lead poisoning. The second song is always when things get interesting. 

See, the funny thing about König playing the bass is, people hate playing in a band with him. Think about the phrase “take em for a walk,” when it comes to a musical breakdown, yeah well. König never got the memo that a bass is supposed to be a rhythm instrument first and foremost. He takes that puppy for a full on marathon sprint, shows off to the max, he’s playing the lead guitar’s part or the vocals half the time if he knows the song well enough. With his own personal double neck bass, Walküre (obligatory quick mention of @kneelingshadowsalome‘s series Valkyrie, go read it yesterday if you haven’t already) he is replacing the strings four times as often as he ought to because, as gentle and loving as he is with the instrument as a whole (he adores her, and is probably a few screws loosening away from sleeping in the same bad as the damn thing), his playing is naturally violent and bombastic to the point of shredding his fingers and the strings. 

His style is something like this (Djent Style, a sub-genre of metal) 

But he likes his kickback and reverb, way, way, way up. The only thing louder than the mess of pure sound coming from the amps is the barely-recognizable music notes cascading out. König doesn’t know what dynamics are, if he’s playing it, it’s gonna be loud, except of course, when the rest of the song gets quiet. 

He usually finishes a set with something classic like Metallica’s Master of Puppets or 21st Century Schizoid Man by King Crimson because those are universals, everyone’s gonna know them. But if he’s feeling particularly pumped, in his element, or is that drunk, he’s playing a once in a lifetime rendition of Agent Orange by Sodom (because trash metal isn’t heavy metal, but it sure is fucking fun!)

The second he steps off the stage, however, he’s practically running away to get to the bathroom or a shower or something. König isn’t usually a sweaty guy, or at least not more so than any other man, but when he jumps off the stage he’s practically swimming in clammy anxiety and sweat. Finishing his little show and going back into the crowd is his least favorite part of the ordeal by far. It’s a dire tone shift once he’s finally gotten back to the people he came in with, from a heavy metal god that rivals the craftsmanship and raw power of Hephaestus or Vulcan to… demure and anxious Julius Doss, dodging praise like bullets on a battlefield. He would never admit it, but he absolutely adores the compliments and awestruck expressions he gets from his little displays of what remains of his teenaged exuberance and the blood hammering adrenaline of having everyone's attention on him (usually the very last thing he wants outside of the field.)

That being said, practically no one gets the privilege of seeing König on bass but when they do. God, do they fucking see it. 

#navigation -> headcanon tag #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #thank you so much for the ask! can you tell I have dabbled in bass? #also metalheads forgive me if i got stuff wrong i hope i did yall justice ily but i am not in that scene

[sparklyslug]

5, 34, and 72

(AGAIN might come back for more of these but had to go with this one it was too perfect)

(Steddie Spotify wrapped challenge)

34-

He knew it would be fucking weird, being back. Had gone so far as to point a finger at himself in the mirror, stern eyebrow raised, and outright said “hey, you know this’ll be fucking weird, right?” Which was prep enough, he figured.

He figured wrong. Or he didn’t figure enough. Because he can feel him, everywhere he goes. When he drives past the entrance to Forest Hills, it’s like he can see a little head of wild dark hair dropping out of view right behind the sign. When he takes a break from boxing up Wayne’s stuff for a walk down by the high school, he can smell the ghost of some skunky weed from under the bleachers, the flash of his favorite skull-embossed lighter, which has been lost for years. He’s halfway through a quiet solo burger at some roadside spot he picked specifically because he knows he’s never been there before, but on his way to the bathroom he sees the evidence of an old stage in the back corner and realizes—fuck— this is the Hideout. This was the Hideout. And he can hear the snarl of reverb, feels like if he turns the corner into the bathroom he’ll see a lanky 18-year-old kid splashing water in his face, dragging a hand across his mouth because he just puked his guts out in a very not-metal fashion.

He’s had it. He’s fucking had it. Having been dogged by the ghost of Eddie Munson all day, he heads directly for the one place he knows he won’t find him. Won’t get even a glimpse of him, because he never ever went there.

He knows how, though. Ghost of Eddie is dogging him this far, the walk through Loch Nora, to an address he sometimes was invited to for business arrangements. But never by its main resident, and never an invite he actually went through with. Made it this far, though: standing on the sidewalk's edge. Looking at the door, hands jammed in his pockets. Knowing he hasn't got the guts.

Hadn't got the guts. But that Eddie-- that kid-- isn't who's standing here now.

Steve answers surprisingly quickly, before Eddie can lose his nerve. TV's on in the background over his shoulder, so maybe he just didn't have far to walk. For a second, Eddie's confronted by a new ghost-- Steve as he would have been if that younger Eddie ever had had the guts to make it in: the King, the Hair, the raised eyebrow to make you feel three inches tall and the half-smile that could leave you floating on air (not that Eddie ever experienced this first-hand).

But the vision passes, and it's someone new standing in front of him. A guy well out of his childhood, looking like someone's vision of a sexy librarian, all crow's feet and chunky plastic glasses and a sweater that seems to fit him a little too big.

All the ghosts are gone. It's just the two of them. Steve and-- whoever he sees now, looking at Eddie.

"Sorry I didn't call," Eddie says.

"Jesus Christ," Steve breathes, and steps forward, hauling Eddie straight into his arms.

Eddie wraps his arms tight around Steve's waist, holding him close and almost desperate. Turns his face a little to press against the side of Steve's temple, inhaling deep. Feeling like someone new.

#this is the only time you will ever catch me ******* ***** #stranger things #stranger things fic #my fic

[browser5]

Oh I also have a brother

Bridget has invited her family over to come see their new home. They make themselves comfortable, as Adam comes home from work.

Adam:

Honey, I'm home!

Bridget:

Hi Hubby, I'm in the kitchen!

Adam walks over, embracing and kissing his wife to be, as he feels a lingering presence.

Meera:

Aww, I remember when we started out as a couple

Adam, shocked, shrieks backward and looks over as he sees Bridgets parents sitting at the table, the mother happy and the father questionable.

Adam:

Wha- When...I didn't know you were coming.

Isaac:

We dropped by to see how you two are living together

Meera:

Actually, I wanted to see how Bridget has decorated the place

They bicker and talk as Adam stands there, not knowing what to do.

Adam:

I'm gonna freshen up and change, I'll be right back

They continue chattering as Adam backs out of the room and goes up the stairs to their bedroom. He sits on the bed for a minute, to catch his breath from a hard day at work. He moves to their bathroom, stripping naked to take a shower. Adam starts scrubbing his defined body, when the door opens and quickly closes.

Adam:

Babe? Did you come to give me some company?...You freak, your parents are downstairs.

He chuckles, but the only answer that comes back is a pained groaning and a nice wet fart, loud as a gunshot.

Adam:

...Hello? What the-

Adam opens the shower curtain, to see a young man shitting in his toilet, his eyes closed and looking concentrated, but pained.

?:

*pushing sigh* Hey Adam...*stomache grumble* oww

Adam:

What the fuck?? Why can't you knock I'm in here?!

?:

Can you chill? *Reverbing gas* I'm trying to relieve myself here *strain n shooting drops*

Adam:

*sniff* pfhoa oh my god, what is with you guys? Who even are you?

Shane:

*chunks of diarrhea* I'm Shane ouf Bridgets younger *strained* brother

The younger man was blushing as Adam was staring baffled at him as there is a knock at the door.

Isaac:

Shane, your phone was ringing...boy did I not tell you go before we leave home!

Shane:

No! Why the fuck would I stink up my own bathroom, I don't have high tech ventilation like you guys!

Waterfalls of shit flow out of Shanes ass and the stench of pure diarrhea flows trough the bathroom. He leaned forward and held his stomach as the pain of his burning hole showed on his face.

Isaac:

Phew maybe you are lactose intolerant or something. Maybe we should get you checked by the doctor.

Shanes dad sighs as his stomach starts to growl and he lets out a vibrating fart which makes Adam jump.

Isaac:

Damn that was more than gas...hurry up Shane, dad's gotta throw some kids into the pool.

Adam:

Can I please finish showering first?

The two look over to Adam, who still stands in the shower, trying to unwind and being interrupted by B's family, flooding every toilet they can find. A second passes before a quick pulse trough Shanes stomach restarts the gas exhaust. He exclaims in grunts as he farts louder and louder. Adam, annoyed, closes the shower curtain and goes back to his shower, trying to ignore Shane blowing out the bathroom, to no avail.

Isaac:

Alright I'll leave. But don't break this toilet, I still need it. Do flushes in between.

Shane:

I already tried, it's backed up with my chunks.

Isaac:

*growling* then fix it

He closes the door and they are together alone once again. His stomach starts growling like a werewolf

Shane:

*grunt* ugh So, Shower sex huh? Doesnt really sound very roman- tic...

Another wave of diarrhea flowed out of Shane’s ass as the wretched smell of fresh diarrhea continued to fill the bathroom causing Shane to gasp a little,he was surprised at the power and smell of his own dump. Adam gagged, he wanted to ignore Shane and rush to finish his shower and dash out as quick as his feet will carry him but he didn't wanna start drama between him and the Browns

Adam:

Umm, Yeah...we do it from time to time. 

Shane:

*plop* *grunt* O-Oh I see. You better be using protection! She sure as hell isn't ready for a family or kids yet!

Adam:

O-Of Course we use protection!

Shane whined and moaned as he let out a few chunks of shit followed by a loud bubbly fart

Shane:

Okay I'm done now, I think dad was right about me being lactose intolerant. We had a few sundaes before we left. *sniff* The smell is definitely gonna be here for a while though, sorry.

Shane looked away in embarrassment as he grabbed a handful of toilet paper and started frantically wiping his ass until it was clean

Shane:

I'm gonna bail now,see you later Adam.

Shane swiftly left the bathroom not even trying to flush the toilet, as he knew he has completely wrecked it and it wasn't going to be flushing properly anytime soon

Adam:

Thank god that's over,ugh it's going to take forever to fix the toilet. Why do all the brown men shit like bloody monsters!

Adam groaned in frustration as he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist,he was about to leave when Bridgette's dad, Isaac, suddenly burst through the door,knocking Adam back in the process

Isaac:

Outta my way boy,I gotta hit the can. Tonight’s dinner is really running through me.

Adam:

Well you're going to have to wait until I unclog the toilet first,Shane totally destroyed it

Isaac:

Can't wait, gotta bomb the bowl

Before Adam even had a chance to respond, Isaac quickly undid his belt and dropped his jeans. Before he could even fully plant his hairy ass on the toilet a chunky wave of diarrhea flowed out of his ass and splashed into the toilet, he sighed in relief

Isaac:

Mmmh I think me and Shane are both lactose intolerant *drop* oh definitely, must be that damn ice cream from earlier 

Adam:

Dear god the smell is even worse than Shane’s!

Isaac:

Well the men in this family have a history of wrecking toilets up and it all started with me so you're gonna have to get used to it if you wanna be apart of this family Adam

Adams father-in-laws voice was stern and he suddenly had a serious look on his face as he let out a booming fart followed by another wave of diarrhea,the smell from Shane’s blowout was now mixing in with current smell, the toilet bowl was being filled up to the brim and Adam’s eyes started to water from the stench

Isaac:

Guess you could say I'm the king of the throne in this family,I destroy toilets and other people deal with it. I wonder if you'll be able to deal with me and the boys destroying your toilet on a daily basis...if you can't that would be very troublesome for the future

Isaac stared down Adam, with a random fart interrupting the silence. who was just standing there speechless,it was like a predator staring down its pray before attacking and eating it

Adam:

I'm done showering, so I will leave you to your business...yeah, just call me when you're done and I'll call a plumber to fix the toilet

The only answer Isaac could give him as he was leaving, was a straining grunt and crackling from his ass, as a long shit snake was coming out. As Adam closed the door and got dressed, he was able to hear Isaac breathing out in relief and deep dark farts. He wonders if he'll ever be able to use his own toilet again or if they need to replace the entire thing.

#coprophilia #eproctophilia #relief #poopstories #fanfic #shit

[keefwho]

September 28 - 2023 Thursday

10:40pm

I didn't journal last night because I was up late chatting with Daisy.

This morning I had a hard time decided breakfast but I picked my last sausage pattie in a hamburger bun with a side of rice. My diet has been pretty non-varied lately so I'm trying to remember to eat something as different as possible every meal aside from my usual chicken dinner but even that might get changed up.

Stream didn't go so well. I just couldn't figure out what to work on. I'm sort of idea burnt out right now. In the past I would have been tired of the process but I feel like I can draw forever. Its just coming up with interesting ideas I actually want to do and not just the same poses and scenarios over and over. I ended stream very early, only about 30 minutes in. I also had to use the bathroom pretty bad. I felt bad about ending but also I knew that I honestly needed a break. I still do I think. I've been so focused on creating ideas that I haven't been taking in any information. I'm reverbing in my own brain. I need some fresh content to go off of.

After stream I honestly can't remember what I did. I somehow managed to kill a couple hours by doing actually nothing. Maybe watching a Twitch stream, maybe working a little bit on my room scan, and trying to find something to clean. Eventually I decided to fellate myself but I probably shouldn't have, I ended up not being very into it and because of that it took about 40 minutes.

Lunch was a few chicken fries, fish stick, and a macaroni cup. I had been looking forward to working on something while watching a stream on the side. Instead I had joined Eggs server and she showed up along with a couple of her friends. It was a nice call for the most part. Some of it was her friends nonstop narrating their OSU gameplay which rotted my brain but that stopped. For a bit it was just me and her and we share mutual feelings about being glad we bumped into each other for similar reasons. She was sort of isolating after a friend group break up and I also have very few social connections. I had been working on a halloween pic of Adora for Daisy in this call. Egg and her friend were watching and complimented me a lot which was nice, they really like my coloring brush. When I was done with the pic I left.

I felt terrible for Daisy today because of her finding out her insurance doesn't cover mental visits and also she had a bad day at work. Thats part of the reason I did the halloween pic. I didn't mean to get the whole thing done today but I thought it would make her feel at least a little better. I don't think I play myself up enough because that pic only took 2 hours. I think a lot of artist wish they could draw something so complete in that time. At this point its normal for me so it doesn't feel like anything special but I should take pride in being able to crank something out like this when it's needed.

After a little stream watching Daisy and I played Zelda together for just a little bit before her mom got home. When she hopped off my friend Will messaged and reminded me that we had planned to hang out in VRchat tonight so we did that for a bit. It was cool catching up with him even though I forgot about the plans and didn't quite feel up to socializing with someone I hadn't talked to in a decade. It was worth it though. We got him an avatar and showed him my cabin before getting crashed at a Black Cat.

Daisy and I chatted before bed as usual while I'm been Twitch gambling. I'm running another room scan alignment tonight and hoping it goes better with new settings. I dont want to settle for a lame result.

Its nearly time I try to figure out a new plan to self therapy. I've just stopped for a bit to regroup because everything kinda stopped working. I got too focused on certain things and at the same time not focused enough on others. I wasn't very coordinated in general, so much so I can't even describe exactly what the problem was. Just that I was so scattered. Whatever I try next will be more structured and focused.

I've naturally been better about feeling secure in my relationships. It might only be temporary but I've been aware of how miserable and harmful it is to not trust in my close bonds. Especially when I'm given so much reassurance. Sure I have legitimate reasons I end up feeling like this but it's still so goofy. Sometimes I just say fuck past experiences and so called trauma. I want to be happy and at least sometimes I can be.

#journal #diary

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #033

“my language: international”

I didn't know people couldn't but, can you smell ants? What scent do they put off to you? WAIT, YOU MEAN I'M NOT FUCKING INSANE???????? OH MY GOD I *ACTUALLY* THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST ME. As someone living in a house that goes through seemingly seasonal ant problems, I thought I was fucking losing it when after squishing an ant and my hand came near my face, I SWEAR it smelled like some sort of bathroom cleaner and I have felt like a mental case since lmfaoooo Do you believe in an afterlife? As time wanes on, the more and more I think no, at least not in like... a fully sentient, fully aware way. Like i very confidently believe in spirits, but hell if I know what that existence is like. Maybe there is something more beyond, but I'm not gonna waste this life obsessing over it. If you had to get a tattoo of lyrics or a quote, what would it be? I am very dedicated to the plan of one day getting a Rammstein lyric that translates to "whoever knows pain is dangerous" tattooed somewhere with some sort of fire graphic (relates to the song). Even before this whole Rammstein phase started, I'd wanted this for many, many years because imo it's one of the most empowering lyrics I've ever heard. I just haven't decided exactly where I want it yet. Do you have any tattoos or piercings? I have not enough of either, haha. If life goes my way I want to be paaaaaiiiiiinted in tattoos one day, and there are a good number more of piercings I want. What do you consider to be red flags in a person? Not just personality-wise; think about professions, maybe what they drive, etc. Well, first I'd need to know if this is a friendship red flag or romantic relationship ones, because there are A LOT more for the latter. I am PIIIIIIICKY with who I'd be willing to date. I guess just to be interesting, I'll list some for relationships: trophy hunter (tbh I don't think I could even be friends with a trophy hunter), male gynecologist (just to harken back to the last survey I took), anger problems and being physical when expressing anger, having any interest in drugs, having a jacked-up and obnoxiously loud truck (it's shallow but I do not care, you as a person are fucking annoying), being overly-interested in sex and sexual activities, get the FUCK out with your fatphobia and being a "body hair is gross" piece of garbage, sexism and misogyny have no goddamn place in my relationship, nor does being primarily right-wing, etc. etc. I have Opinions when it comes to picking a partner lmao. What is a simple thing you cannot do? Like, I can't whistle for example. I also can't whistle, haha. Are you a fan of Britney Spears? Yo no shame, Britney has some damn good songs. Do I know most of them, no, but I enjoy a number of her songs when I'm in the right mood for pop. What’s something that gives you a quiet mind? The first thing that came to mind was listening to the rain in what is otherwise silence. Are you currently listening to music? Yeah, I have "Ausländer" by Rammstein on. After like three days of bingeing slowed + reverb childhood pop songs I think I might be returning to normal, haha. Have you ever held a spider? Yes, and it's one of my favorite memories featuring an animal, now being hooked on tarantulas and all. She was a very sweet Chilean rose hair. <3 Has anyone you know started a new job recently? Do they seem to enjoy it? Uhhh not that I'm aware of. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? Hunny I'm back to actively being on Tumblr but this time in the Rammstein fanbase and people are always eager to share videos, pictures, and gifs of them being Dumb and Cute while they're touring so basically big yes Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? Uhhh not that I know of. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? I have it, but honestly I don't think AS bad (or regularly) as your normal menstruating person. Like normally all that really happens is I get a pimple or two and I'm more sensitive. I HAVE noticed that occasionally by probably more than just coincidence, I cry over something the day before I start. Do you know anyone else with the same first name as you? How many people? Two, but one is spelled differently. What is the last insecure thought you had? Something about how much I hate that I'm able to tell my skin is loosening in some places because it's going to get a whole lot worse if weight loss goes the way I want. It's such fucking bullshit that losing a certain amount of weight eventually becomes UNCOMFORTABLE because your skin doesn't just evaporate. I don't understand why such a massive accomplishment has to come with self-esteem problems. What is your most embarrassing moment? I'm not comfortable elaborating beyond my mother being home when I thought she wasn't. Who is your daddy, and what does he do? Don't... word it like that, but w/e, my dad's name is Ken (his sister's name is Barbara and you can guess her nickname lsdjkfa;lkawe) and he's a mailman. Has an old person ever been mean to you? Yes. If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to? Girt, for sure. Do you like the last person you kissed? More than that, I am absolutely in love with him. Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo? Yes to both. Did you watch the presidential debates? No. Are you typically unattracted to people outside of your race? Nope, race has nothing to do with attractiveness to me. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yeah, I've never understood what the bread crust hate was about... Do you think you are more intelligent than the average person? HA, no. Do you like cherries? Absolutely not, that's like my least-favorite fruit. Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: Jeffree Star. You CANNOT deny this man has WILD fucking worth ethic. I know in early years especially he was controversial and hasn't always been in the right, buuut I like forgiving people and letting them grow from mistakes, and for a few years now, I haven't heard anything bad about him, although granted I don't follow him as loyally as I once did. Do you like folk music? Oh my GOD no. Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? More than once. Do you know any lesbians? Uhhh maybe? I honestly can't say I'm sure if I know a woman who ONLY likes other women. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. What’s the oldest man-made object you own? Ha, probably my fuckin bed frame. This shit was my GRANDPARENTS'. Then MY parents'. Now mine. It's olddddd. Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Hm... I don't THINK so. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yes. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? No. When taking a cab, do you talk to the driver? I've never been in this situation. Who or what greets you at the door every time you come home? Cookie, our little dog that basically has an asthma attack when Mom and sometimes I get home. It's apparently a normal excited reaction for chihuahuas. Roman will also usually be in the hallway watching. Do you ever chat about your favourite video games with your friends? Yep, with online buddies and then Girt is a way bigger gamer than even me so odds are you can talk to him about any game that isn't horror, lol. Do you wanna get married anytime soon? REALISTICALLY, no. BUT I do know that I can get carried away when I'm seriously in love with somebody, so there's that thought of "well why not now" every now and then that thank god I'm pretty good at shutting up because I don't exactly like the idea of rushing in and then getting a divorce, lol. I want to feel more confident in my weight and all too before I'm putting on a dress and getting pictures taken of me. Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. WELL Girt was in the school band with me, does that count? haha Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No, but that is honestly one of my secret "man this would be cute if..." dream moments, haha. Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No; Mom would threaten it sometimes, but it never actually happened. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Do you have a back-up career choice? What is it? Hunny I don't even have a first choice right now. Is there a name that you hear and cringe? I don't think I will EEEEEEEVER be able to hear "Jason" and not be uncomfortable for a few seconds. What was the last computer game you played? World of Warcraft. What colour are your dad’s eyes? Brown. How would you react if your mom told you she’s gay? That'd be... extremely shocking and I would absolutely make a joke like "but what about James Hetfield?" (love of her ACTUAL life), but of course I would support my mother deeply. When you were a kid, was there a boy/girl that you said you were going to marry? No; I was actually very much an "ew, guys/marriage" kid for a very long time. I was SO awkward with admitting when I started getting crushes. Is your favourite TV show very popular? I'm actually quite sure that Meerkat Manor was Animal Planet's most successful, highest-grossing show, at least it was at one point. Has your father met the boy you currently love? Yes, but it's been an extremely long time and the idea of Girt even seeing my dad after the movie theater incident honestly makes me nervous. I'm quite fucking sure he doesn't like him right now. Are you closer with your siblings or cousins? Well by default it has to be my sisters because I barely even know the cousins I still associate with. My sisters and I aren't very close either, but I wish we were. How many people have you really fallen for? Two. Where is your best friend? He's probably at work. I can never manage to remember his alternating schedule, but I'm pretty sure he works today because he was off not very long ago. Your girlfriend/boyfriend buys you flowers, you say? Haha probably something along the lines of, "What did you do?", before obviously saying thank you and kissing him like 20 times because it's an adorable gesture. Do you think age matters in relationship? When a minor is involved, absofuckinglutely. Even once you're 21, the idea of dating someone like, 10+ years older than yourself is... odd to me, BUT I have no moral arguments against it because you're a consenting adult that can make their own romantic decisions. I just don't think I could, I like my partner being similar in age to me. If you could make your lips bigger, would you? No, they don't bother me. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Yes, Colleen's house. Her sister and I got into a fight and by some actual miracle she chose her sister to side with; I call it a miracle because their relationship was/probably still is absolute toxic shit. Have you ever intentionally trolled? No. How many siblings do your parents have? Mom has two brothers and a sister, and I THINK Dad just has a sister. Do you have a favourite sports player? No. Has anyone ever made fun of the way you pronounced something? Ha, yes. I know I say "breakfast" weird, like there's a "t" after the "k" and I've never been able to fix it. Have you ever forged a note for something at school? No. Do you like whippets and greyhounds? I do, very pretty, sleek dogs. Do you know anyone who's been adopted? I know at least one person, yes. Name someone who used to be your best friend and now you never talk to them. A lot, but one I miss the most is Hannia. I would LOVE to see her reaction to Girt and I being a couple now, haha. She was also in our little band group of friends. Tell me something really bitchy a relative has done. Oh, y'know, my grandmother disowned her daughter and got her ostracized from the Roman Catholic church for getting pregnant out of wedlock. She was a /lovely/ woman. Mom's got a bigger heart than I do for EVER caring about her, for being the person who cleaned and took care of this witch in her dying days. Have you ever found a bug in your food? Omg ew no. Your boyfriend's birthday is coming up, and you’re totally broke. What do you do? Ha, so, basically last year and what's probably gonna happen this year, too. I don't know, dude. I'll just... figure something out. When was the last time you were at a park? ... WOW okay there's two possibilities: when Sara and I were together and we took pictures there, or when I was taking photographs for a family that I'd shot a lot for. I really can't seem to remember which of those is closest. Do you feel like going to funerals helps you in the grieving process? I don't know, man. I don't even think I've BEEN to a funeral before, just a couple wakes. If humans could have their eyes be any color in the world, which color would you want? Hm... maybe like, a light purple? My instinct is to go to baby pink, but with the sclera and all I feel like it wouldn't stand out enough. OHHHH WAIT but what about maroon... or- okay you know what idk, I'd have to trial some colors first, lol.

#lyrics: ''ausländer'' by rammstein #survey #surveys #random surveys #random questions

[cosplayg33k]

Ohhhhhh maaaan!! HERE HE IS!! Dre has a voice!!!

The man behind the voice of Dre here is my friend @spikeybelmont The AMAZING and hilarious art belongs to @cursetale (Holy hell do we love your stuff!) Audio editing was done by me.  :D 

REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS MADNESS CURSETALE!!!  >w<  We hope to do more soon!!!!

#Dre #Cursetale #Shitpost #Audio post #Voice Acting #Audio Editing #LMAO #THIS WAS SO FUN TO DO #It even has the reverb for being in a bathroom! #Pffffffffffff #Spikey Belmont #Spikey you are MA MAAAAAN #YEEEEEA BOIIIIIII #I AM DYING #THE VOICE GETS ME EACH TIME #xDDD

[eijishimas]

oh, you listen to girl in red too?

masterlist.

write more wlw cowards. now take some hc’s disguised as drabbles abt momo, ocha, jirou & mina ty.

content warnings: all characters are aged up, minors dni. f!reader. toys, thigh riding, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, exhibitionism, spanking, scissoring.

MOMO loves creating new toys for you to use in the bedroom. she’s quite the experimentalist, enjoying the way your body squirms, keens, and arches for the toys she created just for you. they’re always the perfect length with the perfect settings. vibrators, strapons, gags, handcuffs, literally anything you could want is absolutely yours. she also loves it when you run your fingers down her body, appreciating the natural curves and dips of her body as she slowly gets more wet for you. please play with her nipples, they’re extra sensitive. don’t be surprised if she gets them pierced eventually, because fuck that’s hot and she wanted to be a little more adventurous. pierce yours with her and she will literally melt on the spot. also much more of a giver in bed. she loves that only she can make you feel that way, and she gives dirty talk like a queen. like it’s smooth, filthy, and 100% momo for you. she’s one to memorize your body, maximizing your pleasure and it feels heavenly. who knew the pretty little rich girl could be hiding such a dirty little aspect of her personality, hm?

KYOUKA adores seeing you in lingerie. there’s something about seeing you in lacy, skimpy fabric that makes her brain forget any sort of cognitive thought. if you wear fishnets, she will literally be soaking her panties before you can even slip your hand down her pants. she has a sex playlist, don’t tell me i’m wrong bc i’m not. it’s slow, reverb, with lyrics that are sultry as she gives you dark hickies along your skin. she doesn’t mind being on top or bottom, as long as she gets to grind against you, that’s all she wants. her moans are the most gorgeous fucking thing you’ve ever heard. music to your ears, the way she sings praises to your name and whines when you make her squirt all over your fingers. speaking of fingers, she’s incredibly good with hers. her nails are finely manicured since she plays instruments and she curls her digits inside your heat just right to feel you tense around them when she finds your g-spot. whenever you whimper out a tiny “ky- kyouka—” for her, a flip switches off and she has you pinned by the wrists against the wall. she can go multiple rounds too, tbh. i can definitely see her being shy, yet willing to explore your bodies together. please praise her. please take care of her. she can get a tiny bit insecure, but she is comfortable enough with you to show off her body, so build her up and show her how gorgeous she can be with your name rolling off her tongue.

OCHAKO gets fairly shy when you worship her body, but please do praise her. call her a good girl, your best girl, princess, sweetheart, anything along those lines and she will literally melt like putty in your hands. ride her thigh, make a mess all over her with your juices ruining the tights beneath her skirt. she loves it, it makes her feel so dirty and she loves it. she also loves being choked, something about having your hands around her neck, being in total control of her just makes her sob with pleasure. her tits bounce so perfectly when you fuck her with her favourite strawberry pink coloured dildo. she’s such a pillow princess, and her entire body shakes with every orgasm you guide her to. she sputters out many thank you’s, despite her hips already grinding down on the dildo again to get you to start moving. her pussy is creaming and overstimulated, but she knows that no one can give her pleasure quite like you do.

MINA goes down on you hard, unapologetically too. out of this whole list, she is most definitely the kinkiest. she ate you out in the bathroom of a pro-heroes only gala event, and your legs were hooked up on her shoulders, your moans loud as you came all over her tongue. calls you a slut, her slut, and then sprinkles in little bits of praise. can and will dom you. can and will finger you. can and will fuck you into next week until your name is the only word you can recall. her favourite position is when she lies on her back, hands behind her head as you ride her strap. your ass is facing her incase she feels the need to give you a nice smack, grinning eagerly as the slapping of your ass against her stomach has her slick coating the sheets below you. also!!! definitely one for scissoring, she just loves feeling your clit against hers. it feels a lot more intimate, and while mina goes hard, she knows when you need some loving too. when you cum together, panting and sweaty, she’ll kiss your swollen lips and call you a princess. because that’s exactly what you are, her princess to spoil rotten.

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@cynthus-no @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling

want to be on the taglist? see here.

#bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #momo yaoyorozu smut #momo smut #ochako uraraka smut #momo x reader smut #ochaco uraraka smut #uraraka smut #uraraka x reader smut #kyouka jirou smut #jirou smut #jirou x reader smut #mina ashido smut #mina smut #mina ashido x reader smut #eijishimas.hcs #eijishimas.drabbles

[daisybeewrites]

July — d.j.

for @dreamcxtcherr ‘s 3k writing challenge. congrats lena!!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mention of car crash/death, mention of alcohol consumption, daisy cries, i think thats it lmk if not!!

ship: R x daisy johnson

okay y’all… first ever anggstttttt!!! i’m way too excited about it. if you want a fully immersive experience, i recommend listening to july by noah cyrus slowed + reverb

(gif uncredited on pinterest (ugh, i hate that. credit a gif if you use it!! im trying to find the owner)) update — found owner

It was another mission. Another nightmarish fire-fight where you almost lost a limb, almost lost a friend, almost lost your life. Twenty-four hours later and you’re back home, safe.

Well, as safe as you can be when your engagement is on the verge of breaking off.

You stare at the simple ring on your left hand. White gold band, a tiny amethyst set to the left of a diamond. There was a nearly identical one lying next to the sink, the only difference being the switched places of the glittering gems.

You know she didn’t do it purposefully. You had both been exhausted after what was supposed to be an in-and-out mission turned into a hostage situation. Daisy did what she always did as soon as you were home — take off her gauntlets, wash her hands in the sink, grab a snack, and hop into a steaming shower.

But you still can’t stop yourself from staring at it, eyes fixed, hands shaking, breath held and mind racing.

You used to join her. You would wash each other’s hair, ease each other’s sore muscles with delicate touches on tender purple-black bruises. She would lean into you, letting you braid her hair and falling asleep in your arms, drifting into a deep slumber. It was intimate, lovely; it was normal and perfect.

Taking a sip of your room-temperature beer, you slide off the cool granite of the kitchen island. You had a new routine after missions now, you just had to get used to it.

You hear the shower shut off, bare feet pad into your cosy bedroom, and the door shut with a loud creak. The minute squeak of the mattress tells you that Daisy flopped into bed.

A ghost of a smile lights your face. It looks more like a grimace, you think, as you check your distorted reflection in the green glass of your beer bottle. Chucking the empty bottle in the recycling, you run a hand through your dirty, salty hair. The comfy sweats you changed into an hour ago would need to be washed, the dirt still adorning your skin rubbing off on the black material. You exhale before heading down the hall towards the bathroom.

The tiled room is filled with steam, the mirror fogged up so that only a blurry outline of your silhouette could be seen. You are unrecognizable.

How fitting.

The quick, cold shower you take does nothing to ease your mind or body. You wipe the mirror in a circle, taking out a first aid kit.

With all your cuts bandaged and the proper creams Jemma had snuck to you and Daisy applied to your fresh bruises, you headed into the hallway in your towel.

Daisy is standing in the kitchen, lilac lounge shorts you bought her last Christmas showing off her tanned and scarred legs. She looks warm and soft, a very different Daisy than the superhero who had broken a mob boss’ legs just hours before. Her hair is wet and in braids. You frown. You always braid her hair.

If she hears you, she doesn’t turn around, so you take a moment to admire her. Ten seconds, that’s all you give yourself. It was a stressful mission, if you stare too long she might snap. From the back, you can’t see the dark circles you know are there, but you can see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tilt of her head as she ponders what to eat.

You say nothing as you go to the bedroom to change. You find a black pair of SHIELD sweats and an old, holey t-shirt you vaguely remember stealing from Fitz. A presence at the doorway catches your attention.

“Hi,” Daisy says tentatively. Your breath caught in your throat, your lungs holding the air captive until Daisy spoke again.

“I missed you.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe tonight wouldn’t end with one of you on the couch, clutching a six pack while the other cried as quietly as possible, tucked into cold, lonely sheets.

“Braiding my hair, I mean,” She clarified. Her fingers twisted together, rigid posture giving away her nerves.

The air felt humid, as if the open window had suddenly sucked all the AC out and let the mid-summer heat in. Your memory flashes to the last time you and Daisy had a normal, happy conversation.

The edges are fuzzy, but the pure joy in Daisy’s chocolate eyes is clear. Fairy lights strung haphazardly around the living room, a movie playing in the background, your lips on hers. Blankets make a ceiling over your head that shut out the rest of the world, this moment was only for you two. You played with the thin metal band on her ring finger, she ran her hands through her hair. Her matching ring scratched your scalp lightly. You both smile as you pull away. You whisper childhood stories, laugh at the funny parts and offer melancholic smiles at the not-so-lighthearted parts. You were happy.

That night you got the call — Lincoln Campbell, yours and Daisy’s best friend, had wrapped his car around a telephone pole coming off of a long shift at the hospital. His blood alcohol was almost .40.

Eggshells littered the house from the time you got back from the funeral. One wrong word, Daisy would snap and spend hours punching a bag until her fingers bled. You would fill those hours with whatever was closer — wine or your car keys. You pulled yourself out of your head, realizing you should answer her.

“I missed it, too,” You breathed.

Daisy made a small, unintelligible noise before collapsing against the door frame. You froze for only a second, your mind racing through possibilities. Was she bleeding internally? Was it her back again? Did she get shot and not notice until now?

You leap over to her, catching her as she crumbles to the hardwood floor.

A quiet sob wracks her chest. Your hands hover over her slouched back, unsure how to comfort her. At this moment, Daisy feels foreign. Her sudden vulnerability alerts you to how she’s been holding her emotions in for god knows how long.

“Daisy…” You start, hesitantly.

Daisy hiccups loudly, another wave of tears washing over her.

“Tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags,” Daisy cried, “But I don’t, I-I don’t want to lose you!”

Burning tears gather on your lash line, threatening to fall at her words. You never could stand to see Daisy cry.

Your brows furrow slightly in confusion before you realize what Daisy is talking about. After Lincoln’s death, you two had fought increasingly more often until Daisy locked herself away or spent the night at May’s, and you went for drives until your car ran on empty. On those nights, bottles of wine disappeared from the cabinet without a trace.

Daisy sits up, stamping down her sobs, seemingly resigning herself to the fact that you aren’t going to say anything. Her trembling lip and red eyes pierce your heart. The astronomical distance between you two seems atomic now. You reach out quicker than lightning, shushing her cries and rubbing her back.

“Do you want to go?” You asked after a while. Your knees dig uncomfortably into the floor, your shoulder hurts from the ridges in the doorframe.

Daisy sniffles, her hair falling into her face as she looks away. You crane your neck down, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You know I’m afraid of change, I guess that’s why we’ve stayed the same,” You sigh, your chest constricting and squeezing the broken glass pieces of your heart.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to continue, “But if you want to find a new life, someone who loves you better than I do, darling, I understand.”

Daisy is still frozen, stare burning holes in the floor. You’re glad that the two of you are at home, the poly-tectic adaptive materials hidden between the walls keeping the house from collapsing. By the slight groan of the foundation, you can imagine Daisy could bring down a mountain with the amount of pain she’s in.

Which can only mean one thing.

“I’m not enough,” You stated. It wasn’t a question. You glance down, a glint in the low light cast from the lamp on the bedside table catching your eye. She has her ring on…

Daisy finally, finally shakes her head ‘no’. You let go of a breath, guilt building every second that passes. She isn’t happy. You shouldn’t be happy that she’s staying.

“Feels like a lifetime, we’ve been trying to get by while we’re dying inside,” You say, gently.

Daisy snaps her eyes to yours, a desperation in them you recognize as grief.

“So much of the past year has been consumed by grief. We never took time off, we never talked about it. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one,” She whispers.

You nod, there is no denying that you each had a part in getting to where you are now. Delicately, you grab her hand. She squeezes it, a rush of small vibrations traveling up your arm. Your chest flutters at the familiar affection.

“So have I,” You assure her. She gradually falls towards you, exhausted. You let her rest her head on your shoulder, her breath evening out as her arms wrap around you. You feel hot tears flow down your face, fall onto her hair. Slowly, you pull Daisy closer to you.

Hours later, the sun peeks over the top of the mountain range in the distance. You had adjusted the two of you sometime around two a.m., no longer able to feel your legs from how the floor cut off your circulation.

Sometime around three, you had gathered the courage to move Daisy to the bed, trying hard not to wake her. She had only turned over and not let go of your hand.

You haven’t slept at all tonight, thoughts spinning until you force yourself to pause and count to ten, only to repeat the pattern.

You know what you have to do. You know what’s best for the both of you. You’ll leave, pack your bags and find a place to stay until you can scrape up enough money to rent an apartment. You’ll go to therapy, learn to live without Lincoln, without Daisy. Eventually, Daisy will heal, too. You both have the team at your backs, no matter what happens. She would be okay.

But you know you won’t. The fear of losing Daisy, of losing your life, your home, yourself stops you. You can’t move on. You can’t move forward.

You know that the big changes it takes to heal could cost you Daisy. So, you stay the same. You give into fear. You’ll never be enough, never love Daisy right, never quite heal fully — and neither will Daisy. But you still stay.

You’ll always stay the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ahhhh how was it? did you love it? any feedback? want more? put any thoughts/feelings/questions/concerns in the comments or my ask box!! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading it even more!!

<<3

#daisy johnson x y/n #daisy johnson x reader #marvels aos #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #angst #fic #quake #ashby writes #dousy #lincoln cambell x daisy johnson #lincoln cambell x reader #mcu #bioquake #jemma simmons #gn!reader

[gandrewheadcannons]

I wanted to share some writing I had done earlier this summer with you all! If you like it let me know if I should continue? It’s meant to be a story focusing around the beginning of their time in Washington and into the podcast. I’ve left it at a really weird stop but that’s all I had so far.

Title: Undetermined

Pairing: Garrett Watts/Andrew Siwicki

Tags: Mention of prescription medicine, mention of Jeffree/Shane/Ryland, unfinished

Evening is dimly creeping through the half-opened windowpane casting a glow across the built-in table connected to the cramped inner wall of Andrew's microscopic kitchenette. His studio apartment in LA sat cramped in-between Hollywood and Calabasas, a mediocre waypoint for his work for the last few years. He clicks the viewfinder and focuses on the bright oranges and yellows that dance teasingly across the glittering tabletop; catching flicks of sliver and reflecting them back to the lens. A mug of dark roast with just an edge of too much cream is left forgotten in the corner of the frame. It feels cinematic and lonely all at once. The cafe style booth he sits in causes his back to ache, the rest of the kitchen a sterile and unforgiving white, but he misses capturing the day to day beauty the world had to offer. He imagines the reel being played back with a layered sound of twinkling windchimes, quiet laughter and a piano reverb with cuts of the morning sunrise on a hike and steam off the top of a ceramic mug. A familiar face with flecks of blonde in the beard, strong jawed and a roguish smile weaving in and out of the frame, turning back to laugh at something the cameraman said.

“-with a mandate like this.” Garrett is brushing his teeth through Facetime. Andrew catches the corner of his bamboo toothbrush flashing in and out of the lens. He must have laid his Iphone flat on the countertop because when Andrew really looks he can see the bottom of the mirror and a bunch of bright light.

“I know. It sucks. Couldn’t get honey the other day, man. Fucking honey. It’s not like the bees are going anywhere.” He laughs but it doesn’t feel funny. The minimal supply he had was dwindling thin. He was beginning to ration his meals and he wasn’t sure how much toilet paper was left under the bathroom sink. It was all very apocalyptic without any of the zombies or scientists swooping in with immediate remedies.

“Ah dude.” Garrett spits and there’s a tapping sound like he’s hitting his toothbrush on the edge of the porcelain sink before he fully pops into frame. He looks relaxed, sandy hair flopped to one side and beard properly scruffy though they’d only been locked down about a week and a half now. “I know. I can’t handle it anymore. I miss people.” Andrew hums at that. He doesn’t really. He misses the occasional gathering, sure, but he hadn’t quite placed his anxiety surrounding the idea of seeing others since they’d released the Jeffree series. "What was it that bothered you most about taking part in this?" His therapist had asked him. "I missed the fun," he’d answered. "What was the fun?" She’d pressed deeper. "Garrett," Andrew had been quick to reply. "And like. Everyone else too." He'd added when she hadn't said anything. "I miss it not feeling work." She had let him talk about that instead.

"Some people." He tacks on to Garrett who hums easily. He doesn’t think he misses many of the people he’d spent most of 2019 with, his life a mixed cocktail of Ambien, Adderall and Lexapro without any feelings of relaxation manifesting. His psychiatrist had discouraged upping his doses anymore and by early January she began urging him to begin seeking new opportunities to “work on his environment”. He hadn’t quite figured out the avenue to take to do just that.

"Well, some people." Garrett agrees and he's already back out on his couch. "I don't know how many more times I can watch Winter Soldier before I freak out." Garrett sighs. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Same as you and every other person." He turns his camera off. He needs the break from the screen.

"I miss you." Garrett is easy like that. He isn't ashamed to tell people how he feels in every moment. It was something to be admired and yet Andrew just felt envy at it. When Garrett had begun to slip away from him, melting like honeydew sweet and sour into a depth of a place where Andrew couldn't quite find him, he'd only managed to grab him back out by Garrett's honesty. Doesn't know if they'd be having this conversation if Garrett hadn't used that honesty like an anchor and letting Andrew catch him last minute with it.

"I can come over." Andrew offers. He hates being confined in these walls anyways. It was hollow and dark. The email from Shane still sat open on his Mac across the room on his bed. Thinking of extending the break, can't really decide. Want to get quarantined together? I have a few video ideas we could maybe mess around with or just film some day to day footage until creativity strikes us it reads. His skin itches for the company but the image of their guest room makes him uneasy. Doesn't know if he could withstand being there with very little to fill his hands with, editing complete and no real ideas on the table for the time being.

"I can come to you." Garrett offers like he was inconveniencing Andrew who had offered anyways.

"If you touch your car right now I am going to freak out Garrett Watts." Andrew admonishes. "The second they open up the garages and mechanics again I'm making you take that thing there, burn it and we get a new one." He's opening a duffle now and throwing in his travel toiletries and a few pairs of underwear.

"Oh come on Andrew it's not so bad." Garrett laughs as if Andrew wasn't still reeling from the aftermath phone call of Garrett nearly wrecking on the 101 barreling top speeds until he reached a secluded patch of grass to slow his Pirus down onto. By the time Andrew heard the story Garrett was okay; Michael had gone to pick him up and Garrett was sending pictures of little Star Wars figurines that Michael kept mounted on his dashboard. His heart didn’t calm until he had managed to get his hands on Garrett in person though, sneaking out for an afternoon to grab some coffee with Garrett before heading back to Shane’s to finish editing. His shins still feel heavy with the weight of Garrett’s calf as he’d pressed their knees together until the table while they’d talked – the weight reminding him of how alive and okay Garrett really was.

"Oh yeah a car that dies out randomly is really great." Andrew throws in a box of protein bars and a Gatorade into his bag. He hesitates before grabbing a stitched bear made from gray yarn, green buttons for eyes luring him in. "I'll be over soon." He doesn't know how well the conversation will hold up over Facetime as he's moving.

"Okay cool Andrew." Garrett's eyes are soft. "See you soon. My dad is actually calling."

"Tell him I said hi. See you soon." He so easily could tack on endearment, babe at the tip of his tongue burning hot. Garrett's ending the call before Andrew even has the chance.

**

The half opened can of frosting is across from, the only lights on are the ones twinkling from some intricate set up Garrett had on a shelf. Garrett’s on the third loop of the home screen on Prime, humming thoughtfully whenever he pauses on a summary to read but then continuing to scroll before picking one. He’s slumped down low, long legs kicked out on the coffee table while Andrew is curled up in a ball against his side. Once, Caleb had pointed out that if people didn’t know them they’d get the impression that they were dating. Garrett and Andrew had awkwardly laughed at that comment, tinged with humiliation at how their relationship was being interpreted. They tried to be better then, not letting themselves fall so in sync when other people were around.

Andrew loved it like this though, when it was just him and Garrett, so he could press his cheek into Garrett’s bicep and not have to question why it felt so right. In his left hand his phone illuminated with another message from Shane. Opening it he read a message about how much they all missed him and wanted him there during this time. Apparently Ryland was looking for someone to help film a video he had planned. He quickly shut the screen off and pulled back from Garrett some, his stomach in a sudden tangle of knots.

“Good?” Garrett asked him looking down. His crew neck was for Spokane and looked a little like the Taco Bell logo from when they were younger. He’d paired it with a pair of sweat shorts for the night as they were both supposed to be going to bed soon. Andrew picked at his own Adidas track pants, imagining a loose thread to busy his hands.

“You ever just. Feel like you gotta get out?” He tilts his head to the side and watches Garrett pause what he’s doing with his Playstation controller and set it carefully on his coffee table.

“In what way?” He asks thoughtfully, turning so his chest was open to Andrew. Their knees bumped and Andrew felt like a little boy when he wished he could crawl and hide in the empty space of Garrett’s lap.

“Like okay. Say you just really loved what you used to do. You basically achieved your dream job. You have all these amazing people, you like your boss, things are going really great and you’re making a lot of money.”

“You buy yourself a really good vacuum.” Garrett plays along teasingly causing them both to laugh.

“You get yourself those stackable containers for your meal prepped lunches.” Andrew plays back. “But then…” He runs his tongue inside his teeth then outside methodically. He searches his brain to try to figure out what to say to Garrett to

“Then?” He drums his fingers on Andrew’s knees to get him back to the present.

#gandrew #gw #as #my writing

[zillennial97]

My All-Time Favorites | Larry Fanfic Recs

*these works are the closest to my heart and my best recommendations*

Hiding Place by alivingfire | 365k | Explicit

Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance.

Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint | 158k | Explicit

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.- A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | Mature

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Fucking Animals by pointerbrother | 116k | Explicit

“Just, off the record,” she says, voice lower, eyes sharper, crook of her mouth quirking up a little, “don’t you ever miss it? A good knot? You must.”

Louis blinks and then swallows, thickly. “No,” he exclaims, offended that she’d even ask, “I love my husband. And anyway, how could I miss something I’ve never had?”

---

Louis is the frontman of an equal rights-movement, author of a book about beta-omega marriage and the struggles of being born and boxed into a personality you don't necessarily feel you fit. The notion that an omega must want to be with an alpha or else he or she's just settling for less, is bullshit.

But, fucking hell.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Harry wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Pretty sure yoga is supposed to increase airflow, blood flow, and all that,” he responds dryly, finally jumpstarting himself and walking away from Louis towards his own bedroom.

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | Mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

This Wicked Game by cherrystreet | 70k | Explicit

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

Christmas-ing With You by dolce_piccante | 65k | Mature

Two writers from Loving Heart Television, the premiere network for holiday romance films, find that, sometimes, love is not only in their works of fiction.

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by indiaalphawhiskey | 24k | Explicit

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

#larry fanfiction recommendations #larry fanfic rec #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #harry styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic recs #larry fanfiction masterpost

[fursasaida]

re: music. please do tell

(for everyone else: this is about my commenting in some tags that the idea that music is "how we decorate time" vs architecture decorating space, or music as something that is pure time or happens purely in time, is bullshit)

there are two ways to look at this. one is practical (and snotty) and one is theoretical.

practical: the production of music depends at least as much on the manipulation of space as it does the manipulation of time (rhythm, pacing, etc). your larynx and vocal chords, string instruments, wind instruments, drums all depend on resonance chambers and distances (length of the string, pipe, vocal cord, etc; dimensions of the drum, shape you make with your mouth, etc). that musical sound of the tinkling brook has to do with the volume of water, size of the stones, length of the drops, etc. this is because music is sound, sound requires vibration, vibration has physical properties that vary with various attributes of extension that are undeniably spatial. even digitally recorded and manipulated music relies heavily on tools for simulating spatial conditions of production--different kinds of reverb, for example. not to mention: you can hear any of it because of your god damn ear, which is another kind of resonance chamber. not to mention: how could anybody make music without any space to move in. even slapping your knee requires fucking up and down. AND HAVE WE CONSIDERED ACOUSTICS.

theoretical: ok ok so we don't have to take this so literally. it can be kind of poetic--or, as in some philosophy etc., illustrative/theoretical. my charge here is that treating music as "pure time" is bad poetics and does not help us explain anything theoretically either. theoretically: space and time aren't separate. i do not blame some random twitter user for not getting this. i do blame somebody like henri cursed-be-his-name bergson. just because it can be useful for certain purposes to think of them separately (like, say, graphing something's speed) does not make it valuable to talk about a pursuit like music in only one dimension or the other. like, the cubists were inspired by bergson; they show you bodies from more than one angle because they're trying to give a sense of duration--the ways you would see it at multiple moments as you move. this is supposed to be full of time instead of static and timeless like perspective. this is also horseshit. there is nothing less spatial about this! it has to do with the fact that the body you're looking at looks different from different angles, i.e. it has shape and directions! perspectival painting shows you actions and processes all the time! arguably it is more timeless to collapse multiple perspectives and moments into a single image! i'm not anti-cubism particularly, it's fine, i'm just saying, like: did anyone think this through actually.

similarly, if you want to use music to talk about the way time passes, how it's always going but does seem to have a present-duration--the present moment is not knife-edge thin--you can use literally any process that happens at a perceptible speed to do this. and you do not need to ignore that whatever it is also has spatial qualities. how would you even perceive time without motion or change in space? music is supposed to be one way. but i'm sorry! a) for practical reasons it simply is not without such motion/change (not even as a digital recording), and b) since time and space manifestly are united in perception, what help is it to try to separate them if you are a phenomenologist (bergson) rather than a (classical) physicist or engineer? henri what the fuck. this has always struck me as mainly a way to completely fail to appreciate music while also being obtuse about time. to speak of music as time only, no space, means divorcing it from the physical process of its production. this means it requires believing in absolute time--something that would pass and would happen even without anything to happen in it. which is just as wild as absolute space (space with a priori locations that would exist whether there was any matter to fill it or not). not even isaac newton, who invented both of them, thought this was something you could perceive or measure empirically. absolute space and time was to him a purely theological-mathematical idea, something that had to exist for the sake of certain premises but could never be experienced as such. your measurements will always be relative, not absolute. so absolute space and time are both bad for theorizing how anything affects us or is experienced--you know, like phenomenology? also fwiw the fact that absolute time can't capture the sensation of duration is still, like, a big problem in physics.

going back to that reblog where i explained that not everybody has always even had the concept of "space" like we do now, there is no empirical reason to believe absolute time or space exists. duration and extension are properties of physical processes (at varying levels of materiality). and many of those physical processes are not better explained but rather impoverished by trying to make them "happen in space and time" rather than things that give rise to spaces and timings. this is why the idea of music as pure time or purely in time leads to such absurd questions as "how can you slap your knee without up and down." it's stupid! it's snotty! but that's because the premise is bonkers!

so. whether theoretically or poetically, music is much more suited to discussion in terms of place. places have or are both space and time. in fact it is to some degree wrong to talk about place as "space and time" at all; rather we get the two separate concepts more by extrapolating from place, in which they are so fundamentally unified that not even a word like "spacetime" really captures it. that is partly what makes place difficult to theorize: places are too much like bodies, or like people, or like communities; you can't pull them apart into axes like "space" vs "time" and not lose what it is you're trying to theorize. (you can, e.g., track and analyze traffic patterns quite well this way, and that can be worth doing! but does that capture the place? does it explain what a place is? probably not. it's a different purpose.)

why were european cathedrals designed to have great acoustics? because those were places for the glorification of ~the divine, which was to be accomplished through both light and sound; both its spatial form (extension, hardness, size) and its nature as a ritual site (repetition, endurance); these qualities or capacities could not be separated. did the music not "decorate" the place just as much as the paintings, sculptures, architecture, stained glass? of course it did. we've all seen videos of somebody stopping in an archway or a big bathroom or whatever and singing; the place is further beautified by that because it is an interaction with the place, its spatiality, its acoustics, its textures, the way it looks, the fact that it invited the singer to sing--whether congruously (maybe a church) or incongruously (the aforementioned bathroom). just like your neighborhood has a distinct soundscape; just like a city has refrains. just like i remember stopping dead in the middle of the old city of damascus because three different calls to prayer had, intentionally or otherwise, overlapped to form a perfect major triad for a moment. i will remember that forever. and i will remember where i was when it happened too. (souq al hamidiyya.) that is part of the place. it happened because of the number of mosques and where they were located. and similarly what kind of sounds, or what kind of music, happens in which places has to do with the normative character of places. some sounds, some musics, "belong" some places and not others, because some actions are held to be appropriate there or not, or because they are or are not held to be characteristic. i'm not saying that's a good thing in itself. it's just the way it is. (and there are some places whose function is specifically to be open to all kinds of music, of course.) but i'm saying it leads to much more interesting questions with much more explanatory possibility. for example we could ask about characteristic rhythms or speeds of sounds in different places and what that means. or look at conflicts over what sounds "belong" or don't and to what degree that is justified in terms of time (time of day, pace of life, epochal ideas like what is or isn't "modern," etc).

tl; dr: explain to me the concept of an echo (which we use as a metaphor for having a strong experience of time quite a lot) using time and no space. explain to me how putting it in terms of time alone, even if you could, captures something that including space, or better, a simple narrative set in a place, does not. now explain to me why you would want to do either of those things.

#dieinct #space and place #time #music