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sirens-sanctuary · 7 months

Text

business casual

. miguel o'hara x fem!reader

. TW: NSFW!, oral (female receiving), pubic sex?,

. the promised fic, i have a few more in the works- also not proofread so except a few typos lol

. masterlist, taglist, rules and a/n below~

. NSFW! below the cut

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑

you were never really around miguel at the spider society, but you had a crush on him as soon as you saw him. how could you not? well- you could see why no one else would because hes your boss... sort of? hes just kinda the guy in charge around here so like technically if you were to do whatever you wanted to him it wouldnt be bad, lol ok.

you often got lost in these conversations with yourself at your corner in the ss (spider society, i cannot bring myself to type it out every time lmao)

miguel never really paid any mind to you, he appreciated your work around the place but there wasn't anything too special about you...he liked that. you were simple, you weren't difficult to figure out, not difficult to talk to, you weren't complex like the other things he needed to deal with. he liked that. however— he didn't like how you distanced yourself from him, just as you were easy to read it was easy to see you keep your time with him limited. can't have that, he hates that. he wants you, wants to hear you speak. he sees you yap with your friends here at the ss, but you would say only a few words with him.

he has a plan.. nothing extravagant, just a simple, not complex plan.

it was almost the end of the day when all the other spiders left and went home, you were still in your corner, daydreaming about miguel- you couldn't help it. your thoughts were fuddled until your multiversal watch started to beep. you held up your wrist and a little hologram of miguel popped up.. you were surprised to say the least..a little flustered too? you didn't know... i don't either.

miguel said he needed your help with something..strange but ok. you got up from your desk and made your way to his office- floaty thingamajig?– whatever the hell that floating shit is what is that?? you don't know what that thing is and it really doesn't matter.. you were thinking of anything to take your mind off of your impending doom, even if it meant arguing with yourself in your head about useless things..

you finally made it there and stepped into the open space and behold— The floating rock of shit and stuff, and there he was his beautiful muscled back facing towards you. you're lucky he was facing away from you because if he was looking at you, you would've pissed yourself. deadbutt.

how do you let him know you're here without sounding weird? this is hard, talking is hard, shouldn't have to be this hard. You should learn sign language.

"you gonna stand there or come up here and help me?"

Goddamn doesn't he sound beautiful. you don't say anything and web yourself up to his platform. because youre a simple person you made a simple mistake and missed your footing when you landed and almost fell back. almost. miguel grabbed your waist and pulled you back up towards him. he did this slowly, drinking you in with his eyes, slowly dragging them across your figure. his grip on you was heavy and tight. when you were standing upright you took him in as well, god hes just so huge and delicious. you never got opportunities like this, ever. you were never around him long enough to just stare at him and admire him. you guys were staring at each other for a while with his arm, still around you radiating a hot warmth.

you were a simple person, you went with the punches and the rolls so when miguel leaned down and brought your lips in for a kiss you went with it.. not like youd oppose to kissing him anyways. the kiss was slow and steady at first but gradually got more and more intense. sooner or later you were on top of the control panel on his platform. you were trying to keep yourself quiet, little squeaks and whimpers came out of you as miguel nipped down your skin.

he grunted as he ripped open your suit to gain access. you let out a loud gasp and said his name out of shock.

"keep saying my name hermosa, i like it when you say it that way" ("beautiful")

you let out a soft moan as he talked to you, his voice was laced in lust his want for you practically dripping off his tongue. he pushed your panties (oo lala) to the side and slid his finger gently down your wet slit. he let out a short huff, his breath fanning on your heat.

"que linda carino" ("so so pretty darling")

his sweet talk might as well been enough to make you cum. he closed the space between him and your mouth, his tongue and lips working wonders on your clit. you tried your best to keep quiet, biting down on your lip to silence yourself. your hand found its way into miguels hair and you pushed his face further into you causing him to moan. it sent shivers up your spine and made you finally moan out. miguels big hands wrapped around your thighs and he pushed them closed, oh miguel likes to be squished... he looked up at you. this man cant get any prettier, he was soaked in your juices and the light from the orange screens beside you glistened oh so nicely against his skin.

you were done being quiet, miguels feasting got more and more intense there was no point in trying to stay quiet. your legs tightened around his head making him moan and grunt more. his tongue and lips working wonders, hitting all the right places. you threw your head back and let out a very vocal moan, pushing miguels head down. he slurped on your juices loudly and sloppily before getting up off his knees and wiping his mouth clean.

he stared down at you with a proud smirk on his face, he enjoyed staring at you twitch with your blissed out face.

"gotta get you cleaned up, now don't we mi novia?" ("my girl")

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑

. yes i know it's wednesday, i'm sorry lol i was working on this last weekend and then didn't finish it??? idky but i finished this so i hope it's alright, i'm still getting a bit used to writing smut /~\, erm anyways hope you guys liked it and i used google translate again so idk how accurate the spanish is lolll, i also have a few series i wanna start so stay tuned (if you're willing lmao) for those~♡

. masterlist | rules and fandoms | taglist |

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۩ ร𝓲ᖇᵉŇ. ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°°๑۞๑

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astroyongie · 2 months

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Enhypen Reading March 2024

note: please take it lightly

Heeseung

Love: as far as I can tell, Heeseung is in a relationship at the moment but other have some troubles when it comes to communication (this bc I believe his current s/o is probably not Korean and they might struggle with language barrier which makes the relationship a little complicated)

Career: he is having some complications with one of the managers, however when it comes to himself, Heeseung has been a little bit out of touch with his career, he isnt putting as much energy as he might have liked to put (that because he feels the dynamics are shifting)

Self: his mental health is struggling a little but that mostly because he was formatted into thinking in a certain way and with maturity and age he is understanding that the world isnt what he initially though it was. He is trying to involve with culture but its hard

Jay

Love: I do believe that this man is also in a relationship that just started very recently but Jay doesnt seem like he is fully committed with this person. I dont know if there’s a special reason for this, but he is keeping things rather simple of now

Career: his career is going well, his sponsorship have already wrapped up the contracts for solo stuff and he is more than excited to do them. Jay has also been training hard and putting effort into opportunities to show his fans a new side of his idol character

Self: he has been money oriented lately, he is focused about himself, about how t improve himself in his wealth side, how to invest and also how t assure himself a positive future because he knows everything can come to an end quickly and he wants to put all the opportunities on his side

Jake

Love: he is also in a relationship but things are quite weird for him, probably because his relationship feels “long distance” type of thing. He finds himself daydreaming about his partner a lot of times, and he probably have set goals that currently are too unrealistic for him and his partner

Career: Jake have been some difficulties with his sponsorship that aren’t giving him what he might have wanted because he also cannot repay what they ask from him. Jake also feels like he hasn’t been as close to the other members has he had one been (however this feels like he has been the one taking distance unconsciously)

Self: couldn’t get anything here

Sunghoon

Love: boy is still dating the same person he was dating in January and things are going well for them since they are establishing a positive relationship and putting everything in table. I feel that he still puts his career first but he is trying to be a good partner

Career: some complications here, one of his exclusive contracts wasn’t resigned by his sponsors (the brand probably dismissed him) so he wont be doing anything for them this year (or at least until the current contracts ends). Some difficulties in the relationship with one of the members

Self: he feels really overwhelmed by everything, by his career, but th image he has to put with his fans with the rules he has to follow and the permeant fear that he can be cancelled for anything and anything. I feel like Sunghoon is walking o eggshells for a potencial reason

Sunoo

Love: he is still dealing with his last relationship and with the arguments. It feels that even after January, February was a month were him and his ex kept talking (probably because they wanted to fix things) and although they have reached a concensus, the lovebirds are still in a complicated argumentative phase

Career: I am pretty sure that his sponsor ditched him out and he is currently leaning on the company until they figure out what they can do without that kind of support things are a little more ocmlciated for Sunoo’s career. I also feel like the conflicts inside the company continues

Self: he feels trapped in his situation. Theres probably a part of Sunoo who wishes to leave the idol life but at the same time he doesnt want to disappoint anyone

Jungwon

Love: he is still single, nothing changed much since January, Jungwon is still dating with a side of himself that is way too broken to be able to stay in a healthy relationship at the moment. I am concerne about his mental health too

Career: there’s some changes here, when it comes o his career. Jungwon have been activity putting his goals aside to allow some members to shine more than him yet he still tries to grasp a few whenever they come up

Self: he is in a very emotional state, just like In January he is someone that longs for a relationship, he longs to find someone that will comfort and love him and that puts him in a fragile position

Ni-ki

Love: Niki has been seeing people In a non official way however he is being way more selective than he was in January. He isnt allow to just be around anyone and his flings are hand picked

Career: some complications here as well, I feel like Niki have made some mistakes when it comes to his image and these will keep repeating itself because he totally is obvious about consequences

Self: he is someone with a straight head and perception and he doesnt allow things of everyday life to touch him in a negative way. Overall, Niki is doing fine, mentally and physically

#Enhypen #Enhypen reading #Enhypen tarot #Enhypen headcanons #Enhypen imagines #Enhypen scenarios #Enhypen reactions

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stevie-petey · 3 months

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How about Steve and bug talking about what they think their future is gonna be like? When he comes and visits her at work and they just talk about random stuff. He just says something off handedly like " I hope my kids read like you do, I want them to be booksmart like you." " Do you wanna have kids?"

" oh yeah definitely I want six."

"Six?! I could probably only handle three, if my kids are anything like me they'll be leash kids I'm serious."

And it's just sweet, them talking about how they hope their life to be, not knowing that they're each other's future.

oooo YES !!!

enjoy <3

"how many kids would you want? ya know, assuming you actually do want kids in the future."

steves question causes you to drop the change youd been counting at the register. "im sorry, what?"

"kids?" he sees your bewilderment and frowns. "what, youve never thought about your future?"

"i mean, sure? but i havent given any thought about kids. im sixteen, steve."

"and im seventeen and know for a fact that i want my kids to be booksmart like you." steve responds, not even paying that much attention to you as he busies himself with a comic.

you stare at him in shock. god, steve harrington really does just say the most bizarre things so casually. hes thought about his kids? and about how he wants them to be like you?

sometimes, you really hate that he does this. because then he just leaves you there, always standing in shock, as he goes about his day as if this is all normal.

you take a deep breath and shake your head, you have a job to do. dimes and nickels need to be attended to. "can i ask what sparked this insane thought?"

steve holds up the comic hes reading. "see, these i like. but those books about war and peace? no thanks. but... i dont know. guess theyd be good for my kids, seeing as they made you so smart."

you laugh. "im not the genius you think i am. i still think spider-man is real."

"youre like, the top of your class. shush."

"so sassy for a man who daydreams about having kids." you tease, but something shifts behind steves eyes.

"it is weird, isnt it?" he ducks his head down. "sorry."

well, now you feel bad. sighing, you drop the change in your hand and walk over to steve. sure, its a bit weird, but also incredibly sweet that he already seems to know how he'll raise his kids in the future.

you sit next to him and pluck the comic out of his hands. "so, tell me. how many kids we talking?"

a smile returns to steves face. "definitely, like, six."

"six?" you choke on your spit. "and who is birthing these six fucking children?"

a pause, then a frown. "hm. ya know, i never thought about that."

"bless you," you pat steves knee and he laughs. "i think id like three or so. maybe more, but definitely at least three. i love having a sibling, and i love taking care of dustin and his friends. ive already got years of experience."

"three? weak. do better, y/n." steve pokes your side.

you slap his hand away. "hey, i know im a handful. so is dustin. with my luck, my children will be little mini dustins and that... is a very scary thought."

"im an only child-"

"shocking!"

"anyways, its lonely. so im having as many kids as i possibly can. itd be fun, and id take them out to play baseball and go to parks and build forts and-"

"read them bedtime stories so they become booksmart?"

steve snaps his fingers and smiles. "exactly! you get me, y/n."

you giggle. "i try."

and for the last hour of your shift, you and steve debate the hypotheticals of your futures. steve remains adamant that he becomes a housewife, and you declare that if even one of your kids turns out like dustin, then youre sending them to live with him.

its a good day.

#ask #anon #come home blurb #m's writing #m speaks #set in between seasons 1 and 2 #i love u steve and bug

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tossawary · 3 months

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I've been thinking a lot about DCU stuff and Ace Attorney thoughts got mixed in by accident, because it's got a lot of the same themed, colorful character designs and silly pun names. So, of course, I started immediately daydreaming about a DCU-style Superhero AU for Ace Attorney. (I often do not fully control what I think about.)

And then I was like, "I think I just finally have to play Ace Attorney at this point, before I get stuck in a weird daydream loop because I don't know enough about the plot to worldbuild properly. I will let this be the final push to just start these games."

Based on my extremely limited knowledge (I have only actually played 2 episodes of the first game), here are my Superhero AU thoughts so far. I don't like 1-1 character role match-ups in general when I fuse worlds, so none of these AA characters are fully aligned with any particular DCU character.

Phoenix Wright would make a good speedster, I think. This is partially because of the spiky hair, but also because there's a terrible irony to being the fastest man in the world who keeps being too late to stop certain tragedies. It also suits the way he's apparently never properly prepared for anything but also quickly manages to pull through. He's probably still a defense attorney in his civilian identity. (In accordance with later games, he has to stop being a superhero for several years when he's framed for a crime.)

Besides Phoenix's mentor Mia, who is also both a superhero and a lawyer, ordinary civilian Larry Butz is the only person who initially knows that Phoenix has superpowers. He honestly hasn't told anyone Phoenix's secret identity! But Larry also somehow gets into more scrapes and "damsel in distress" situations than Lois Lane and he's not even an investigative reporter.

Mia Fey, Maya Fey, and Pearl Fey have a Shazam situation, I think, in which they transform into a "Mystic Champion" magically empowered by the ghosts of their ancestors. Like a Shazam & Danny Phantom fusion. Mia Fey was the first in her family to become a publicly known superhero. A lot of people don't know that it's not the original Mystic Champion (same face and same superpowered form as Mia, which breaks Phoenix's heart a little every time) until Maya or Pearl transforms back into a regular girl after the fight is over.

I think Miles Edgeworth is a Batman type hero, but one still partially ensnared by Manfred von Karma, who is his Ra's al Ghul. (This makes Franziska into Talia, but there is definitely nothing romantic there.) Maybe he does have superpowers of some kind, maybe not, and he could still potentially be a prosecutor. He doesn't have a Brucie persona, though. Phoenix is not impressed by Edgeworth's harsh and even cruel approach to vigilante work. (Steel Samurai was Miles' Gray Ghost or Zorro hero inspiration, I'm guessing.)

Gumshoe is Miles' Commissioner Gordon figure and doesn't know his secret identity yet. He's either going to learn in the middle of a really bad situation or he's just going to straight-up figure it out himself one day and scare the hell out of Miles.

I'm still thinking about characters like Kristoph and Klavier Gavin, Apollo Justice, and Trucy Wright, but I don't know enough about them to fully flesh these thoughts out yet. I think the Gavins would make good Kryptonian equivalents (a cold and calculating Superman and a rockstar Supergirl), Apollo might make a good Wonder Girl equivalent (his bracelet becomes a Lasso of Truth) as the lost son of an Amazon, and Trucy would obviously be fun as a Zatanna type of hero.

#tossawary ace attorney #aa superhero au #long post #spoilers #phoenix wright #mia fey #maya fey #pearl fey #miles edgeworth #manfred von karma #franziska von karma #dick gumshoe #larry butz #kristoph gavin #klavier gavin #apollo justice #trucy wright #tossawary dc

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revasserium · 10 months

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neverending daydreams with kenma? 🫶

reqs are open :)

neverending daydreams

kenma; 3,709 words; almost freakishly fluffy, but also kinda trippy. basically my specialty and i love this fic a holy freaking hell of a lot. if u read pls PLS tell me what u think u__u and lemme know if u 'get' the ending!!!

he has never been, in all seriousness, what people would have called a dreamer. but having spent most of his waking hours either gaming or wishing he were gaming, kenma quietly considers the implications of being called as such. a dreamer. what a title — what a name.

what a burden.

“was it bad last night?”

“no, not as bad… but at least it was interesting.”

“oh yeah? tell me.”

“so there was a maze, right — and then you know the super hot manga character from the new series — yeah, he was there too, and we had to like figure out this maze but we couldn’t wear shoes —”

kenma lets his head lilt to one side, his eyes falling shut in the early afternoon sun filtering through the wide classroom windows. they’d been cracked open half an hour ago to let in some air, the spring blossoming into what kenma is already sure would be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer. he’s already dreading it.

“— and then i woke up!”

“aww… lame! you didn’t even make out!”

your laughter spills across the room, warm as the sun now soaking into kenma’s skin and he shakes himself awake, blinking unfocused towards the gaggle of girls sitting three rows ahead of him, heads bent together, a multi-limbed conglomeration of painted nails and hair pins, phone baubles and perfume. he shudders slightly — making out — what a thought. how gross. he’d never understood the appeal, even as more and more of his classmates began to whisper about it, to joke and cackle about it next to the shoe-lockers, in the stalls of the boys bathrooms during lunch, on the benches near the playparks on the way home, loitering around convenience store corners, eyes lingering on bare skin and bracelets, on rolled up sleeves and blushing cheeks.

kenma crinkles his nose, thinking now, of noses. and where on earth they’d even go if you were to —

“oi kenma-kun, do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”

kenma blinks, nonplussed as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.

“huh? you… don’t really believe that, do you?” he asks before he can quite stop himself. the resulting silence makes an uncomfortable heat climb up the length of his neck till his cheeks are burning with it, and still, you stare at him.

“why shouldn’t i? her dog eats weird stuff all the time.”

kenma blinks again, owlish, and he’s unsure if your confusion is feigned and this entire thing is just some elaborate prank, one that’ll break you into laughter any second. he resists the urge to look around, to make sure that the rest of his classmates aren’t all watching him like they’re in on the joke, waiting for the cue to start laughing as well. he feels his shoulders shrugging up as he fights down a frown.

“yeah but… that’s like the oldest excuse in the book, isn’t it? my dog ate my homework?”

this time, its your turn to blink, cocking your head to one side as you regard him, not a hint of malice or trickery in sight. he feels almost ashamed of himself for thinking it of you. of course you wouldn’t.

and then, you laugh. and he starts again, not because this was what he’d been afraid of but because this is the exact kind of laughter he was not expecting, pure and unhurried and unabashedly happy.

“ah — i guess you’re right, but… well, if she wants to keep my notes, then that’s fine. i’ll just make another set. so…” you smile at him, bright as dawn and summer starlight, “can i borrow your notes from yesterday?”

kenma resists the urge to groan, because his mind is already racing into overdrive — why not just ask kiyo from 2-b to give you back your notes again? nay, to demand that she give it back? to threaten her dog with… with what yet, kenma isn’t sure, but he is sure that that would be simpler, would it not, than to ask him for his notes. even though, sure, yes — he has almost all the same classes as you and sure, yes — he does also take pretty good notes. and sure, yes — fine.

this might be the path of least resistance but… doesn’t it feel a bit like punching in the cheatcode? isn’t it stunting… character growth and exp gain for both you and kiyo in 2-b? what if this causes a glitch in the matrix and you’re stuck in the eternal loop of borrowing people’s notes only to have your own notes be taken and eaten by kiyo’s homework-devouring dog until no one in school has notes anymore and everyone fails? would everyone have to hard-reset and start the year over?

“uh… sure… i guess. if you promise to give it back.” he reaches into his bag to pull out his notebook, pressing his lips for a second before handing it over.

you make a noise that’s caught between a squeal and a squeak. it’s a happy sound, he’s sure.

“thank you, thank you, thank you! and yes, i promise i’ll give it back! and my dog doesn’t eat homework — only table scraps and puppy treats — and maybe the occasional piece of trash on the sidewalk, but definitely no homework!”

you press the notes to your chest and beam at him and kenma finally lets out a soul-shaking sigh. he wishes he were home; he wishes he were playing video games; he wishes that the day came with a fast-forward button so he didn’t have to deal with all these scenarios that don’t make a lick of human sense.

the next day, when you return his notes, it’s with a shy smile and that he isn’t entirely sure what to make of. you’d licked your lips and looked anywhere but at him before pressing the notebook back into his chest and scurrying off with a thankssomuchforyournotes! tossed over your shoulder before you’re disappearing into your multi-limbed girl-gaggle and they were all laughing and giggling as they absorb you back into their amorphous blob, casting furtive glances his way that make his shoulders want to shrink up to his ears, if only to hide his face behind.

he hunkers down over his notebook, adjusts his sports bag and hurries into homeroom.

it isn’t until japanese literature, when he’s flipping open said borrowed-and-now-returned notebook that he notices — there’s a drawing on next blank page. or, well, what used to be the next blank page but is now definitely no longer blank. and it’s a drawing of you.

kenma stares down at it, at the cartoonishly large head, the huge, anime-lashed eyes, at your chibi-rendered hands clasped together in an unmistakable gesture of thanks. and something inside him jumps. something warm and thumping and uncoordinated. it coughs, skips, skids inside his chest and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s his heart.

thanks again! let me treat you to lunch sometime?

he reads the line four times before he finally manages to process the words. lunch. sometime.

treat?

he frowns. but school lunches are always free.

his eyes slingshot towards you, drawn as if by a magnetic force, and he finds you immediately. your eyes meet and a zing sings through him, shaking him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away. instead, you cock your head as if asking a question.

his heart thumps, and then thumps again. heat slowly unfurls in the base of his stomach, something like hunger, except it isn’t actually hunger. it’s a wanting, a thrumming wish — pressing and feverish and — he swallows hard, tearing his eyes away from you to look back down at the drawing, at the words.

treat. lunch. sometime.

sometime. but it can’t be during school. then when?

kenma freezes as realization washes through him, cold as a too-large bite of icecream.

oh. oh.

and then, he blushes hard enough for him to bury his face in his arms, refusing to pick his head up even when the literature teacher asks him expressly if he were feeling ill.

it’s saturday at noon, to be precise. and as kenma waits outside the neighborhood soba house, he wonders briefly if he’d accidentally stumbled upon a hidden side-quest that’s actually more difficult than the main storyline, because he’s almost certain that he’d never signed up for this.

cold-soba with you. alone. together.

no. he scuffs his feet against the floor, his fingers furling and unfurling in his pockets, so unaccustomed to not having a game console to fiddle with, no controllers to twiddle. he feels it like a phantom itch, like ghost-controllers as he opts for chewing on his lower lip instead.

stupid kuroo, taking away his switch. stupid, stupid, genius kuroo, letting it “slip” that kenma had a date on saturday, so that his mother had fussed all morning and had subjected him to a full-body pat down to confiscated the rest of his ill-hidden hand-held gaming consoles one by one with a scowl and a reprimand of no gaming when you’re on your first real date, kozume!

at least, he thinks, tugging his phone out of his pocket to flip through the preinstalled games there, there’s alway snake —

“kenma-kun! hi! sorry i’m late!”

your voice catches him like a punch in the stomach and he almost drops his phone, fumbling it for a second before catching it and shoving it into his pocket.

he looks up, a frown already forming on his forehead when he stops — he catches sight of you and that strange, twisting not-hunger-hunger gnaws at a growing space inside him. because oh — there you are. you’re standing in front of him, a little breathless, but dressed like… like a display from a pastry store window, or one of those ball-jointed dolls that have entire fan-followings online. you’re lashes and lace, earrings and nail-art, and all the normal things he’d come to associate with the strange, foreign concept of girl-geometry but you’re also nervous, and sweet, and looking up at him with those huge eyes, not unlike those in the chibi-doodle version of yourself that you’d left in his notebook.

and nervousness he understands. sweetness… he understands too. to a certain degree.

“no, you’re fine… i just got here too,” he says, and it’s a not-really-lie, because he did just get here… like fifteen minutes ago. but time’s just a human construct anyway, and there’s no point in getting caught up in the semantics.

he takes a breath at the same time you do, and you break into a fit of nervous laughter that makes him want to reach out and bottle the sound. or maybe just to record it on his phone for a rainy day. he tamps down the strange and doubtlessly creepy urge with a cough and motions vaguely towards the door.

“uh — you wanna…”

you nod, a bit too hard, before brushing by him into the soba shop and bowing to the middle-aged woman behind the counter.

she seats the pair of you in a booth, tucked into the corner, and for this kenma is thankful. he feels himself relaxing into the secludedness of the position.

“hot?” he asks, watching as you fan yourself with your hand from across the table.

you freeze and blush again, and he looks down immediately, feeling rather guilty for putting you on the spot. but when he glances back at you, you’re smiling.

“yeah, a little. it’s gonna be so gross this summer.”

“yeah, i know. i hate it already.”

he would’ve winced if it hadn’t been cut off by the sound of your laughter. with this, at least, he is familiar. how many times had he let himself melt into that sound during all those classes you had together? how many times had he centered himself around it, made it the still point of his turning universe, grounded himself to it so he could count from one moment to the next. he hadn’t thought it anything strange before now — after all, isn’t that what the internet says you’re supposed to do when you’re feeling unmoored? to find a commonality and stake yourself to it. only…

is it strange that he’d chosen your laughter?

it’d been such a simple choice, so easy to make — it was everywhere, and when it wasn’t there, he could conjure up the sound perfectly.

sitting across from you now, he pauses, wondering what kuroo would say if he were ever to bring this up. probably call him a pervert and never let him live it down.

“me too. i think i hate a lot of things but…” you break off, your eyes meeting his for a split second before looking away.

kenma breathes, watches the way you worry your bottom lip.

the conversation is stilted, but after a while, the awkwardness wears off. like silver soaking off years of accumulated tarnish, the shine breaking through as the soba is served and the pair of you are left slurping at the chilled noodles.

by the time he offers to walk you home, kenma finds that he’s no longer searching for things to do with his fingers, the phantom itch of a ghost-console no longer needed to occupy the space between his hands. and when you say goodbye to him this time, it’s no longer a string of words strung together too fast, tossed like an endless hope over your shoulder, but held between the pair of your bodies like a promise.

“see you on monday!”

kenma smiles, “yeah… sure. see you then.”

he watches as you turn to walk away, and his feet warm with the premonition of motion, but something holds him still, holds him there as he watches you take two steps, three steps — and then, you turn back around. and you’re closing the space between you and him, quick as a flash, your lips grazing the skin of his cheek, and then just as quickly, you’re falling back onto your just-taken steps, your cheeks ablaze as you wave a hand at him and race off before he can do more than open his mouth, his jaw loosened by the action, the thought — the motion and e-motion of it all.

kenma stares at the place where your body had just been, taking up space, and then oh-so-abruptly… not.

you’d turned the corner, and now not even your shadow lingers, but he fancies that there’s still a break in the light, a tear in the air just in front of him where you had been, warmed by your just-there-ness. slowly, he raises a hand to swipe it through that space, before bringing it up to his cheek to brush it against the place where your lips had been.

and are now no longer.

and there too, he feels his own skin, warmed by the just-there-ness of your no-longer-there lips.

three days, it takes him. three days to build up the courage to ask you out again. on another date. and this time, he doesn’t tell kuroo, or his mother, but he doesn’t bring games with him either.

the frozen yogurt place isn’t too crowded on a wednesday night, early enough to still be dinner-time, too late for the afternoon-stragglers to be out and about. he arrives, as he had done, fifteen minutes before you, and he wastes no time in starting a game of snake on his phone.

by the time you get there, it’s getting hard to maneuver the pixel-snake’s body without it’s tail trailing across the entire screen.

“i thought you’d only be into the kind of games with like… a million levels or something.”

your voice jolts him out of his intense concentration, and this time, he does drop his phone. your reach out to catch it with a knowing grin, handing it back to him, but by then, the large GAME OVER is already flashing over the screen.

“oops… sorry,” you say, looking genuinely apologetic.

“don’t be. and you’re right, i do like games with a ton of levels but… things like this are fun once in a while too.”

he blushes as he motions at the space between the pair of you, his phone still clutched in his hand, so that it’s unclear if he’s talking about the game or… something else entirely.

“only once in a while?” you venture, the slightest hint of a tease in your voice. and it’s incredible, he thinks, the change a single week’s worth of familiarity can do for the both of you. because while your first “date” had been all awkward silences and rough, stumbling changes of topic, this one — already — has taken on a sheen of smoothness and liquidity that makes kenma’s skin prickle up with what he can only assume is excitement.

“well… maybe — i dunno…” he gulps as he holds open the door for you to walk into the yogurt store, “it’s only a pattern if something happens more than three times, right?”

and god, where had this come from? this daring, this strange, almost alternate-universe confidence — and is he really flirting?

you let out a pleased sort of hum that warms his entire body and he thinks that he’d rather like to hear that sound again too. to add to his collection of bottle-able sounds that come from your body — he bites off the thought there, because kuroo will really start to call him a pervert then.

“i’m free on saturday,” you say, turning towards him to offer him a yogurt cup.

he stares at it for a second before taking it, letting his fingertips linger where they brush against yours.

“okay then,” he says, allowing himself the shadow of a smile as you ask him what his favorite yogurt flavor is, and he asks you your favorite toppings. and it’s easy like this, isn’t it? how had he ever thought this difficult? had it ever been? the bell-like sonance of your voice, the tinkling texture of your laughter, the great, blossoming fire licking up, up from the base of his stomach all the way to the top of his chest.

why had he ever scorned this as strange? as unnatural?

how could he have ever thought this to be a mere sidequest when this — he’s sure of it now — is the entire point of the game to begin with? because don’t all roads lead to this? to this giddiness and certainty? to this… unshakable knowing that he, even in his youth, is held still by in it’s immensity that this could be something more?

something like… love?

but it’s too early for that yet, and he’s getting ahead of himself. skipping the levels and peering at the walkthroughs.

he forces himself to focus on the tang of the yogurt, the crunch of the oreo chunks. he anchors himself to the grace of your smile and the weight of your laughter.

and after, when the yogurt is done and the night is still young, he offers to walk you home again. and this time, he doesn’t wait for you to close the gap between your bodies — he leans down to do it himself. because somewhere between the space of then and now, he’s made the decision that he doesn’t want the shadow or the just-there-ness anymore. he wants the just and the there. separate and whole and oh.

so that’s where your noses go.

the kiss breaks between you and kenma leans in to unbreak it.

you make a small noise at the back of your throat and he has to keep himself from grinning.

there, again, another bottle-able sound.

he inches his hand up to cup your cheek and you lean into him, pressing both your palms to his chest. and for moments and moments and moments, the pair of you stay locked there, breaking and unbreaking the kiss again and again and again until finally, you press him away to take a breath.

you are breathless, and so is he.

and briefly, oh so briefly, kenma wonders as he looks at you, stares into your eyes as you look back at him, if this could be called dreaming.

“oi… oi kenma-kun?”

kenma blinks, frowning slightly as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.

“h-huh?”

your face is inches from his, and the afternoon sun is warm against his skin. the classroom behind you is filled with the scent of a blossoming spring, trailing into what kenma already knows will be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer.

your voice rings through him like knowing, and your smile, when he finally focuses on it with bleary eyes and a buzzing mind, looks something like the remnants a dream.

“do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”

kenma chews on his lips as he weighs the answer on his tongue, and finally, he allows himself a tiny, secret smile as he digs around in his bag for the notebook, handing it to you as he says —

“you don’t actually believe that, do you?”

#kenma kozume #kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kenma x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kenma fluff #kenma kozume fluff #kenma kozume x you #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kenma kozume imagines #haiCUTIES #floofy floof floof #/ vibRATES EXCITEDLY #pls pls pls pls pls tell me what you thought pls i am SO CURIOUS #and also let it NEVER BE SAID i do not feed the kenma stans yall #nearly 4k words PSH #there are so many THINGS in this fic that i am happy with -- not the least the circularity and the actual prose #bc i feel like this is one of those things that bears reading twice and im not just saying that bc i want ppl to read it multiple times #im saying it bc there are so many easter eggs and self-referential bits in the fic that i feel like u would enjoy on a second read through #im just sldkfjosid over the moon about this one and i know it's not super duper polished but i dont think it needs or want to be #ANYWAY HELLO kenma is a GREAT muse yall

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likedovesinthewindd · 8 months

Note

gwen stacy x fem/gn reader (your choice ofc) where they’re both in an argument and confess in the rain and have a kiss in the rain?

gwen and reader are in college in this, btw.

gwen stacy x fem!reader

a/n: as I was writing this the only thing I could think about was how pissed I'd be if someone made me stand in the rain, I'd actually cry if my hair or clothes got wet 😭

Ever since college, the amount of time you and Gwen spent together had decreased dramatically, the both of you becoming too swamped in work and several other extracurriculars. But you still tried to make time to hang out; hence why you had managed to keep the tradition of Saturday movie nights alive. Every second Saturday one of you would choose a movie to watch, prepare a shit ton of snacks and catch up on each other's busy lives.

You'll admit, you always managed to talk a bit more than her, always having something to vent to her about. And she didn't mind; she'd always listen attentively, chiming in with a sarcastic comment or joke every now and then, but tonight what you had to say had her speechless to say the least. No joke or quick quips at hand this time.

"A date? With Harper?"

Harper was the girl you'd been talking to for a few weeks now. Gwen's met her once, and in that one time alone she had concluded that she didn't like her. She didn't really know why; Harper was a nice girl, kind and funny and outgoing like you, but Gwen just didn't like her. It definitely had nothing to do with the huge crush she had on you. Definitely not.

"Is it really that hard to believe?" you asked with a little laugh, insecurity lacing your voice. She shook her head rapidly. "Of course not, I'm just suprised that's all," she said, trying to not sound as bummed as she felt. She didn't know why the thought of you dating someone bummed her as much as it did. Maybe because you like her, dummy.

She shook her head again, trying to let the thoughts somehow dissipate in her mind. "Why are you suprised? I told you she might like me," you said, and she hated how small your voice sounded. Gwen didn't know what to say; how on earth do you tell your best friend about the crush you've been harboring on them for years now. The uncomfortable silence streatched on until you spoke up once again. "Why's it so difficult for you to imagine someone liking me? I get it, I don't often go on dates and stuff but I'm also human, I have feelings," you said.

"That's not what I meant, of course I'm happy for you, I just don't really like her, that's all," she tried. "Why not?" you asked, and Gwen winced at the slight anger in your voice. "I dunno I just," she took a deep breath, "I dunno, okay!" She wanted to crawl into a hole when she saw how her raised voice made you flinch. You quickly gathered your belongings and laced up your shoes. "I don't think I wanna do movie night anymore," and before she knew it, you were out the door with a slam.

✴︎ ˚｡⋆

It had been a week since you had last spoken to Gwen, and now you were sitting in your room quietly applying the last bit of makeup as you stared blankly at the mirror, your mind running a mile a minute.

Gwen was your best friend, you valued her opinion over everyone else's, but she always did this. Every time you liked someone, she'd be weird about it. She never liked the people you dated—always the excuse that they weren't "good enough for you" and always discouraging you from getting together with anyone.

The pellets of rain hitting your window broke you from your daydream. Great, now you had to go fishing for your umbrella. When you eventually found it and got more rain appropriate shoes, you made your way through the busy city on your way to your date.

You didn't enjoy the idea of arriving at the restaurant while soaking wet, so you were walking as fastyou possibly could, boots making little splashes with every step.

A small thwip sound and before you knew it, you were being hoisted up to who knows where by the top of your umbrella. Your grip on the handle tightened as you closed your eyes tightly, only opening them again once you felt solidity beneath your feet.

Before you had the chance to scream at the fact that a masked vigilante had potentially kidnapped you, the mask was being pulled off and Gwen was standing infront of you.

"Gwen?! You're—"

"Please don't go on that date," she said breathlessly. Your shoulders slumped. "Gwen, don't start," you said, trying not to get angry again. "Please, Y/N, I'm begging you," she said once again. If she had to get on her knees right now she probably would. Anything for you to not be mad at her anymore, to talk to her again.

You hadn't noticed the grip on your umbrella loosening until a strong wind caused it to fly right out of your hand. Gwen had tried to catch it with a web, but it was quickly way out of her reach thanks to the strong weather. Now you stoof on top of a building, wet and irritated beyond believe as your best friend (who was a superhero? maybe?) tried to get you out of a date.

"If you don't give me one good reason why you don't want me going on this date, I am going to turn around and leave, and I will never talk to you again," you said through gritted teeth, the cold already setting into your bones. You knew that to some degree it was an empty threat. Damn, you weren't even going to be able to walk away, but you were getting tired of whatever game Gwen was playing with you.

The silence, that felt like it lasted a lifetime and a half, was all you needed and you scoffed, turning around to hopefully find a roof hatch. When you saw it, you quickly made your way to it, mood souring with every splash your boots made. Like deja vu, you were once again roped in by a web, this time catching you totally by suprise. You basically crashed right into Gwen and before you had the chance to push off her or give her a piece of your mind, her soft lips were crashing into yours.

And for a few seconds, it felt so right. So perfect that you couldn't help but wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her back with equal passion. It only took you a few more seconds before your mind caught up with your actions, and you realized that you were kissing your best friend. You unwrapped your arms from her and pulled away as soon as the realization hit you.

"I can't let you go on that date because I can't stand thinking about you with anyone else," she stammered before you got to say anything. "I don't think Harper is good enough for you, I don't think anyone is good enough for you, including me. But I just want you to be happy. I wanna make you happy. Or try at least, but if that's not what you want, I understand, and I'll let you go—"

You figured the only way to silence her racing thoughts would be to kiss her again, so that's exactly what you did, and by the time you pulled away again, the dazed look on her face made your heart thump with happiness.

"You do make me happy, Gwen," you said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "I just wished you would've told me how you felt sooner. Would've known that I feel the same," you added before she pulled you into another brief kiss, clearly overjoyed at your confession. You pulled back one last time with a smile that quickly turned into a frown when you felt the way your clothes were clinging to your body.

"Now get me out of the rain, please!"

#gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x you #gwen stacy fluff #gwen stacy fanfiction #spiderman atsv #likedovesinthewindd

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teague-broski · 6 months

Text

Mashing together this theory and another one (but I can’t find it for the life of me) where Grace is the reason NPMD happens, more specifically that the Lords In Black have a hold of Grace before the plot even sets in motion.

First piece of ‘evidence’ is the whole Dirty Girl scene. The whole thing is a sexual fantasy which Grace doesn’t even realize is happening until halfway through: “Max Jägerman? What are you doing in my bathroom?” And the fact that he’s wearing a crucifix which sorta seems out of character for him, but fits what I imagine Grace sees as the ‘ideal version’ of Max.

But also, she is woken up from her bath fantasy by her dad, meaning it was more of a dream than a ‘daydream’. Also, she holds her hand up in confusion as if she didn’t know she was doing that in the first place??? Very sus

Next piece is more the vibe of her character the whole musical. (Keep in mind I haven’t watched any of the Nightmare Time episodes so I don’t know much about Abstinence Camp but I’ve heard some stuff about her being unhinged there as well. Still, my theory is specifically about Grace in NPMD.)

Anyway, it seems really weird that this girl is clinging to the idea of being pure and not a sinner (she wouldn’t even let Max hold her books because ‘she’s only 18’, seeing that as being a step toward her and Max being “in carnal embrace”) and here she is lying to her family, lying to the police, stealing a gun, and cursing at God. Also also, SHE DISMEMBERED AND HID A DEAD FUCKING BODY. And lying is the sin she’s worried about? Talk about one fucked up moral compass lol.

And my last piece is the summoning. This one is a two parter cause there’s a couple things happening here. First is the actual summoning part. When Grace, Steph, and Pete are on the floor, they look pretty terrified and confused, but right before the Lords in Black show up, Grace makes a face of either pain or discomfort which is very different from Steph and Pete’s terror. Grace is literally wincing and curling in on herself. Just something me and a few other people noticed.

And the second part of the summoning is Blinky. He literally says that they’ve been watching her and they know all the bad things she’s done. Isn’t that kinda weird that the Lord’s in Black have taken an interest in Grace and ‘haven’t done anything about it’? Between Wiggly and Pokey, they love getting involved in their little shenanigans in Hatchetfield but this time they just sat back and did absolutely nothing? I don’t think so.

Anyway, maybe I’m delusional and none of that makes any sense or I’m a damn genius lol. I would love to hear your thoughts on this about whether or not it works!

Also here’s the link to one of the theories I saw:

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freeuselandonorris · 5 months

Note

omfg your vore fic is life changing. hell yeah to stigmatized weird af kinks ❤️ since you’re so good at character kink psychology, i’ll throw another one in the ring for fun - thoughts on inflation? i’ve never seen it in f1 except one fic that had it i’m pretty sure unintentionally lmao

also congrats on accidentally solving an f1 dilemma: if the drivers vore each other, there are more seats left open for young drivers to join 😅

oh anon!! first, THANK YOU and i’m so glad you liked the vore fic — i was honestly shocked at what a great reception got, but i’m really fucking delighted that people like it. hell yeah INDEED to the stigmatised kink rep! and lmaoooo maybe oscar should let the FIA know about that one too, it would sure solve a lot of problems 🤔

now, inflation! this one was WAY out of my comfort zone and i have done a lot of interesting reading today instead of doing my job! there are so many facets to it and you didn’t specify a preference, so i went with liquid inflation as this scenario came to me pretty naturally — i honestly have no idea if i’ve hit the sweet spot (ahem) with this as i was so unfamiliar with it, but i definitely awoke something in myself writing it lmao. i hope you enjoy :)

sort of one-sided landoscar, but in the context of an established relationship. cw for liquid inflation (eta because i wrote this in a rush: to clarify, it’s fantasy-based, not actual inflation), curve worship, fantasised helplessness (although all fully consensual).

Oscar’s not built like any other driver Lando’s seen.

He’s strong, obviously. Stronger than Lando is, that’s for sure. But he’s also — shaped. He’s got an arse some of the underwear models of Lando’s acquaintance (or, well, former acquaintance) would be jealous of. Little waist, but his belly pushes out against the fabric of his fireproofs. The soft mounds of his tits, firm muscle covered in a light layer of flesh that Lando likes to squeeze.

Oscar’s shy about his body too, in a way Lando finds slightly odd given how they’re all used to being manhandled and grabbed by their physios, engineers, sometimes the fans when the security in the paddock is lacking. Keeps himself covered up in shorts and T-shirts until the very last minute, even when they’re fucking. Averts his eyes from his own body, preferring instead to focus on Lando’s.

It’s not that Oscar hates his body or anything, as far as Lando can tell; he’s just used to seeing it only as an object of function, not something to be desired. Even though Lando thinks he’s gorgeous, could spend hours worshipping every soft and furred camber of his strong thighs and broad chest.

Lando doesn’t know how to tell him that, express how much he loves Oscar’s curves. He tries to show it instead, spends snatched hours between free practice sessions mapping out Oscar’s body with his hands and tongue.

He daydreams about it sometimes, the words he’d use to explain it. That there isn’t enough of Oscar to contain all of the desire Lando wants to stuff him with. That he wants more of Oscar to worship.

It’s something he’s always known about himself, ever since he was a kid. But it’s never been as intense as it is around Oscar. Pale, soft Oscar, all hair and solid heft, his blurred edges and the sweet flush of his skin.

Probably Oscar wouldn’t mind it if Lando admitted it to him. He’s never minded anything else. But this one feels risky, somehow — a raw and vulnerable thing to express.

Still, he wants Oscar to know, somewhere underneath it all; he must do, because he slips up, sometimes. Just in small ways.

It had been bad in Qatar. Lando had been half-delirious anyway, staggered back into the garage after media to see Oscar propped up against the central island in the garage, hungrily sucking water from the long straw of his drinks bottle. Eyes closed in bliss, throat working as he swallowed, swallowed, swallowed.

His racesuit hung limp from his hips. Above it, Oscar’s swollen belly curved from the fabric, full and distended. Feverish, Lando told himself he could see the stretch of it, the skin taut and bouncy as a drumskin beneath his sweat-soaked fireproofs. His hands had twitched with the effort of not reaching out to check.

“Thirsty?” he’d said, smiling, trying to make a joke of it. Trying to keep his eyes on Oscar’s face and failing, drawn to the curve of his stomach like it was exerting its own gravitational pull. “Careful, you can fuck yourself up if you drink too much water.”

Oscar had slow-blinked at him, like a cat trying to make friends, left the mouthpiece of the straw resting on his bottom lip when he answered. “Kim put electrolytes in it.”

Lando had nodded, swallowed. His own mouth watered in sympathy.

“Keep going, then,” he’d said, and Oscar had smiled, sucked the straw back into his plush mouth and continued to drink.

The memory still does it for Lando, even now, months later.

He could have taken Oscar back to his room, their bodies still salty and aching. Let him curl up on his side on top of the cool sheets of Lando’s bed, let Lando fill his bottle to the brim with cool water and stir in electrolyte powder. Kneel at the side of the bed and feed the nozzle back into his mouth, stroke the damp hair back from his temples, let it curl around his fingers as Oscar sucks and sucks.

His stomach would stretch, round and tight as a ball, one smooth convex curve from ribs to hips. The inward dip of his waist hidden, overwritten by the surge of flesh.

He’d let Lando crawl onto the bed behind him, spoon Oscar’s growing body, one arm tucked beneath his armpit to hold the straw in place. Lando would slip a hand beneath his T-shirt, peeling the fabric back so he could rub soothing circles over the bulging skin. Undo his straining jeans, the zipper sliding down of its own accord from the pressure. Say something like that’s it, Osc, you’re doing so so well. Oscar would press back against him, shuddering, body lax and lush. Moaning when Lando’s hand skims his swollen nipples, cock slipping between the fat globes of his arse. Oscar’s got a nice fat cock too, a plump handful. He’d press it up against Oscar’s belly, tend to him as he lay helpless and swollen, suckling trance-like at the straw still held between his lips.

Here, let me help you with this, Lando would say to the shell of Oscar’s ear, squeezing his cock. It’ll take the pressure off. His big belly pressing Lando’s hand into the bed, barely able to rock his hips into the answering push of Lando’s hand.

He’d come like that, spilling over himself, letting Lando push his soaked fingers into his mouth and swallowing that down too. Part his lips and say more, please, eyes blank and lidded with pleasure. Lie patient and limpid while Lando scrambled off the bed and round, taking out his own cock and pushing it against Oscar’s hungry, suckling tongue, filling him impossibly more.

That’s what tips him over, spilling into the clutch of his own palm: the thought of Oscar swallowing down everything he has to give. His come the final straw, stretching the skin almost to breaking point. Oscar’s eyes closing in bliss, sleepy and sated, unable to move.

Lando keeps his eyes closed for a long time once the aftershocks have subsided, unwilling to let go of the fantasy. Finally opens his eyes, staring at the unfamiliar hotel ceiling. Outside, the dull thump of bass from the party yachts berthed along Yas Marina filters through.

He sighs, struggles to sit up, goes to wash his hands. The room is all meagre angles, cold metal and sharp, mean corners. He curls his hands into fists, feeling the emptiness inside them.

Back in the bedroom, he sits down on the edge of the bed with his phone, tabbing to his message history with Oscar.

How would u feel if i told u about something u might find gross, he sends before he can chicken out.

Oscar replies almost immediately, like he knows Lando’s waiting, nervous. About yourself? Literally nothing could surprise me anymore.

Promise u won’t get mad or tell me im a freak? Lando sends back.

Try me, Oscar replies. Then, immediately after: Well, not unless you want me to, anyway.

Lando smiles, chewing his bottom lip. Come to my room after debrief and i’ll tell u in person.

Oscar heart-reacts the message. He definitely knows Lando needs reassurance; usually he uses the thumbs-up. Lando pockets his phone, stretches the kinks from his back and goes out to the balcony, letting the last vestiges of sun warm his skin. That’s the funny thing about Oscar. Whatever love Lando has to give him, however strange its shape, he’ll always find a way to make it fit.

---

ps even though this ends on a slightly ambiguous note due to its one-sidedness, it does of course take place in my landoscar kink shared universe and so, in case anyone is worried, oscar did indeed react with a shrug and "okay, cool" and fire up "i have an inflation kink, AMA" on reddit :)

#lando norris/oscar piastri #landoscar #mctwinks #answered #prompt fill #ln4 #op81

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nivisdreaming · 1 year

Text

Kinks And Cookies

Frustrated by the trials and tribulations of solo BDSM, Y/N comes to their dear friend Eddie Munson for support. Probably shouldn’t have chosen the best friend they’re also in love with for that role, but at least they’ve got cookies as a distraction from the heartache?

Eddie Munson x Sub!Reader

WC: ~800

Tags: Not smut but heavy kink themes, hurt/comfort turned love confession?, self indulgent af, drabble, gender neutral reader, 2nd person POV (you/yours and Y/N use)

Eddie cocks his eyebrow from where he lounges in a dining room chair, a lit joint hanging from his fingertips as he intently listens to your words. “Wait, so you’ve been doing solo play? As a sub?”

“Yeah, and it’s.. fine. Less than ideal for my style, but I’m a big kid, I can take care of myself. Porn and daydreaming works well enough. It’s good enough. For little while, anyway. But that’s not the issue,” you bite your lip and shuffle in your seat, “The problem is afterwards. Aftercare and that stuff. You know how I am with self care. It’s even worse when I’m…” Your words trail off.

“Fucked dumb?” He finishes for you, a smirk on his face as he clearly tries to suppress laughter.

“Eds! This is serious!” You huff and pull your knees up to your chest, burrowing your warm face and wide eyes away from him. “It’s gotten really bad sometimes, Eds, if I don’t do enough I end up dropping.” You take a shaky breath and try to wipe some of tears collecting on your lash-line on your pants. “That’s really scary alone, Eddie. I hate every second of it, and there’s nothing I can even do but wait it out when all I wanna do is feel good.”

A frown replaces Eddie’s teasing expression. He’s heard about subdrop plenty, helped a few playpartners through it once or twice. He’s even had to deal with topdrop himself after a particularly rough scene. He knows the emotions your trying to articulate. The anxiety that eats away at you, the shame and guilt that overshadows all else, the primal sadness and depression that you just can’t explain because there’s not always a reason beyond the physiological. He’s putting out the joint now, quick to move from his seat to squat next to you. A tentative hand reaches for your knee, and he begins to rub small circles over the soft fabric. “I’m sorry I laughed, Y/N.” He can hear your muffled sniffling from where your face is buried, and it’s really tugging on his heartstrings. “What can I do to help? What’d you want me for?”

“Just, hold me. For a few minutes. Til the bad feelings go away.” You feel Eddies arms move up to wrap around your torso, and you’re carefully shifted into his lap and pressed against his chest, his chin resting atop your head. His hand goes to caress your hair and a sob rips from your throat, stilling his breathing.

“Y/N. Maybe this is a bad time, but could I ask you something?” Eddie’s words come out tentatively. You nod from where you lay, not trusting your voice to hold steady. He mutters close to your ear, “Why don’t you have a dom? If being without one isn’t what you want, why be on your own?”

You feel your breath catch, and he worries you can feel how his heart skips a beat at your reply. “There’s… a guy. Who I want to be my dom, but I’m too scared to ask.” You take a heavy pause. “He barely even knows I exist in that capacity, but being with someone besides him would still feel wrong. I’m waiting to either get over him or work up the courage to ask him out. Both seem impossible.” Your words come out mumbled, but at least the talking is enough over a distraction to get you to stop crying.

Eddie is so glad your head is still buried in his chest. You always had such a way of reading him, like you could see his eyes and how they reflected the light and use it to know exactly how he felt. He didn’t want you seeing that moment the hope turned to jealousy turned to heartbreak. God, this had been a rollercoaster of a conversation, even by the weird standards you two had grown accustomed too.

You both sit in silence for awhile, enjoying each other’s embraces, terrified to be the first to move. It feels like centuries have passed by the time the alarm for the cookies you technically were here to bake in the first place sounds through the trailer, and you have to peel yourself from Eddie’s hold reluctantly. He stays on the floor, but you can feel his gaze on you even as you turn to pull the metal sheet from the oven.

“Whoever he is, tell him. You don’t… you don’t deserve to hurt, Y/N. Not like this.” His sightline doesn’t budge when you turn your head around to look at him. There’s some emotion dripping from everything about him, from the hunched way he sits, to the gruff tone of his voice, to the way he blinks a little too often, like he’s trying to clear something away. For once, you can’t quite determine what it is. It only spurs you on.

“It’s you, Eddie. For fucks sake, it’s always been you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #sub!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson drabble

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maxwell-grant · 1 month

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Fuck it, can you expand on your thoughts regarding What Can We Know About Thunderman?

One of the funniest and most horrible things I've ever read partially because like 60% of it is just pages and pages of Alan Moore stating industry facts and names with the serial numbers filed off, and if you have enough comic book brainworms to be reading Thunderman in the first place there will probably be at least one or a dozen references here and there that will spring out of nowhere and hit you like a punch in the gut (the one I remember was the Jack Cole one). A lot of the stuff in Thunderman that reads as absurd funny parody or metaphors too stupid to be real are actual industry facts that Moore has knowledge of, and even the stuff that isn't you can trace a direct line of what exactly it's referring to or who exactly this is referencing.

This is a story in part about how horrible it is to be a sicko with comic book brain worms that is mainly understandable if you're exactly that kind of person. Besides all the references to real-life people and events, most of the modern stuff he's making up are still just as incisive and accurate because literally nothing changed, not even in regards to the movie paradigm ("At last he has attained a semblance to a religious figure. Can we stop now?"). Much of this is Moore dunking on Certain Industry Guys he probably knew and interacted with and indirectly bullseyeing on more recent guys, because a lot of these guys are the same. There are your extremes like the one con-goer here who is pretty much just Max Landis verbatim, but there's also so much that's brutally on-point for industry practices and writers ("What if we had Thunderman do something, and then something happened?") that you can fill in your own names.

It's also an incredibly personal and tragic piece because the core story of it, in between vivid descriptions of Greg Land's office space porn oceans and self-destructive daydreams and rolling catastrophes, is about a guy who deeply loves his art form, deeply loves the creators and artists who gave him so much for so little in his life, and deals with so much horrible toxic bullshit that the only way he finds to live, the only way he finds to not be complicit in the pigsty, is to leave it all behind and work the poison out of his system forever. Like he very openly talks about the protagonist leaving it all behind to go write the next big novel and writing that note, and the non-superhero ideas that will come after, as something that nobody is going to care about, but that he has to do. I don't think I could fully appreciate the sequence where he quits his job at comics and walks out of the office feeling better than ever, until I myself got fired from an incredibly stressful job that made a thing I love (video editing) into the bane of my existence, and no amount of money worries in the world could make me not feel at that moment like I was walking home to the sunniest day of the year.

It wasn't only how much better life was without comics that had startled him, but also how the comics business looked, viewed from outside. How small it was; how cruel and how ridiculous. All the warped personalities the industry either attracted, or else bent and fashioned for itself out of naïve enthusiasts who'd been expecting something else. He couldn't understand why he'd not bailed out of the business years ago, though in a way he could. Part of the answer was just plain human inertia, and part was the fact that, from the inside, comics people and their weird behaviour could seem almost normal.

Dan was grateful he'd escaped in time, though he'd admit that even that escape was qualified. Removing himself from the comics field was one thing, stopping thinking about comics was another. Constantly, he'd find his mind alighting on some decomposing gobbet from the mental garbage-tip of trivia that his career had left him with, when that was the last thing he wanted to be thinking of. He probably should have anticipated some sort of reaction - thirty-something years in any field would leave you with a lot of baggage, and especially an enterprise almost designed to be obsessional, like comics -

His fantasy that he could be a proper literary author, living miles from anywhere and shunning interviews like Salinger or Pynchon, had congealed over this last few months from idle dream to psychological necessity. He'd put his farewell dossier together, and it was published without eliciting much in the way of a reaction or response, but the important thing for Dan was that he'd written it. His lip was better and he could speak normally again, since, for some reason, having quit the comics world, he was no longer trying to eat himself alive. Dan was committed, now, to his new life, and there could be no vacillating. Change or die, those were his options.

And putting aside the fact that "Dan" is killed by the Vince Coletta stand-in and the story itself ends in a much bleaker and more horrible note, to me that feels like Moore being very honest, as depressing as it may be, that nothing else he ever does is gonna get the kind of buzz and following and money and praise that he did for his corporate superhero droppings, and he still doesn't regret one bit what he left behind, and he's going to make the weird magic lizard stories he actually wants to do until he dies and try to not think about superheroes ever again even though he will obviously never fully succeed. Not just because it won't leave him alone, but because it's a part of his life. He loves stories, he loves art, he loves comics, and if not now, he very clearly deeply loved superheroes once, and maybe he still does if he can put aside the sheer nightmare bullshit toxicity attached to them that he's dealt with. I'd even point to a recent occasion he did try just that, with the character of Captain Universe, who accomplishes maybe the only real heroic act in LOEG: Tempest when he stops an atomic bomb from leveling England and ends the story with his big heartfelt wedding.

LOEG is the dead last place you'd expect Moore to place a heartfelt send-off to his superhero work, and much of it gets obscured by that asylum sequence where he savages existing IP capes and the farcical elements of the team and other criticisms at the genre, but it's there, and it's maybe the only story that has a happy ending in the book even. With Captain Universe, a character who has no real history, Moore is able to put all feelings for superhero IP and the big two aside and do this platonic ideal of a superhero and the creative possibilities and hopeful fantasy of a superhero. He's willing to poke holes in the guy and ruthlessly make fun of his shitty allies and villains, but LOEG affords Captain Universe an almost shocking degree of dignity (plus the existence of the canceled Superverse, which was going to be a LOEG-esque project with superheroes done with Rick Veitch tying in to The Show, showing Moore had plans to try writing superheroes again on his own terms even after everything). I think Thunderman in large part is about conciliating these feelings with a large degree of autobiography.

That's one emotional core of the story, but mainly I remember Thunderman for being really fucking funny. The EC Comics hearing. The porn ocean odyssey. Stan Lee Stan Lee-ing so hard he nearly gets killed by gangsters over it and one chapter detailing his transition from person to Character. Marvel was all along a CIA conspiracy to promote radiation poisoning. The chapter that's entirely dedicated to Moore stopping the story to riff and review the Superman movies. This books swings widly and it's an incredibly entertaining read.

And maybe the most horrible thing about Thunderman isn't in the way it's protagonist meets it's end or in the final chapter or even *gestures broadly at all of it*, it might just be the chapter before Alan Moore drops his Superman movie reviews, because with it comes the realization that yes, Alan Moore has been to Reddit, and has looked enough into reddit superhero discourse to be able to plausibly imitate it, which means he probably has sat through at least one argument about him too many. The stand-out of that chapter is the bit where he's riffing on Cavill's mustache fiasco and the DCEU, but it also includes some bits that now read as pretty perfect bullseye jabs at the MCU's current state of affairs.

#replies tag #superheroes #alan moore #illuminations #what can we know about thunderman #comic books #superhero comics

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sprout-fics · 1 year

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SPROUT I AM THONKING

Gaz being your high school sweetheart

He leaves for the military but years later you get a message from him

You two grab coffee (coffee shoppe au) and sure, he's a little rougher around the edges, but he's still our sweet sweet boy <3

Ok yes, yes!!

It's so weird to think about these guys as younger, in high school or something but I can totally see Gaz as the kid who is the class clown but also never gets caught. All the teachers think he's a very sweet, polite boy, and then he'll steal all the erasers from the third floor classrooms and just ' :) No Mr. Trumbul, I have no clue where they could possibly be, but I'll be sure to help look for them with my fellow students'

Is the kind of guy everyone likes or at least is amicable with. Maybe not popular but at least decently respected and nobody really has issues with him. It's the reason you like him. He's just a good guy, he's funny and makes you laugh, does sweet things like leaves you notes in your locker or gets you some cheap flowers on your birthday.

and then graduation comes and things start changing. Suddenly the news is full of military operations overseas, and Kyle starts getting distant, broody. You both still are dating but it's different, he's not the same. You ask him what he plans to do after he graduates and he evades, and you press him and he says he's going to enlist. You beg him not to, try and convince him otherwise, but he's stubborn. He says he's going to go serve and you can't stop him.

So you have to let him go.

and even when he leaves you, he's sweet about it. He kisses you and hugs you and says he's sorry, and that you'll find someone, and he's sorry it isn't him.

Years pass, and you move on. There's stuff in the news about the anti-terrorism operations, but you don't pay much attention to it, because when you do you wonder if he's okay, if maybe you should have tried harder to stop him. You change too, grow into an adult and shift into something different, something more like the person you're meant to be.

You stand in a coffee shop one day, waiting on your order, and you hear his name called out. There's a brief moment where you remember him, and it's almost gone when a familiar and yet somehow different figure approaches the counter with a 'Thanks love' that sounds heart achingly like him.

and it is.

You see his eyes when he recognizes you, blinking and unfocusing with memories before he sees you. He says your name like he's walking in a daydream and when you smile and nod you see him grin, and there's a sadness but also a joy there at finding you once more.

You talk, and he tells you everything he's done, where he is now, the things he's doing. He's different, a little more worn, a little ragged around the edges but it's still him underneath all that. You can see his smile, can hear how his voice has deepened a little more when he laughs. He's broader, more fit, has a few scars you don't recognize but it's him, it's Kyle.

It's a conversation, and it's only at the end that you say you've found someone important to you. He nods, and his smile is a little sad, but his eyes are earnest when he says he's happy for you. He listens to you talk about your partner, how much they care for you. He makes a few jokes and relishes in your laughter like he's bathing in sunlight. When you both part ways, he hugs you like he did all those years ago, once more as a goodbye just for him, and you can't help but wonder once more if you made a mistake.

Months later you get an invitation, and you stand proudly in the crowd watching Kyle as he receives his first medal for his service. He stands tall, beams pride and it sings inside you chest alongside him.

You realize you didn't make a mistake. He's right where he needs to be.

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #cod mw2 #kyle gaz garrick imagine #ok wow that made me emotional ngl

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 7 months

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I'm just Ken

Eddie dressed up like Ken for Halloween because you made him. Now that may seem like you're a couple...when you think of Ken you think of him dating Barbie but alas you two aren't together. Where he sees love, it's clear you just see a friend.

Either way, he was just excited to hang out with you. When he first heard that Steve was throwing a Halloween party he was planning on bailing. He had a date with the couch and cheesy horror movies but then he got a call from you squealing on and on about how you found the cutest Barbie costume but you just needed a Ken to accessorize with. Hearing the excitement in your voice made his heart race. Thinking of you wanting him to be your Ken! That made his heart race even more so he agreed but as soon as he hung up he felt a sense of dread fall on him. There was no more of your joyful voice telling him that you'll plan the whole thing, there was just the feeling that he now has now that he realized that the whole night he'll have to do the sad nod and explain no you aren't dating...sadly.

This feeling really carries with him for the next few days but as soon as he saw you the feeling vanishes. All he can feel are these weird excitement butterflies, if he's being truthful he only gets this feeling when he sees you. As he is daydreaming you finally approach him and it isn't until your voice graces the air that he snaps out of it. "Are we still on for Saturday?" You asked hopeful, as if he would ever flake on you. "Of course we are sweetheart" He says as nonchalantly as he possibly can, trying his hardest to not show that his heart is pounding out of his chest. A faint blush dusted your cheeks and if he wasn't staring in awe at you he would've completely missed the pink. You end up saying goodbye before he can question what he saw and to his dismay he doesn't get to see you again until you are knocking on his front door with a bag of makeup and the costumes in your arms.

He opens the door as soon as he hears the knocking and you immediately rush in. "Oh, Eddie! I have never been so excited for a party before! Look at what I got us!" You walk further into the small trailer and lay the costumes out on the couch. Eddie's eyes wince at all the hot pink but he makes sure that you just see a smile. "That looks great" he mutters as he watches you gather your stuff once more and leave to the bathroom. "Get dressed! I'll be ready in a few!" You call out from behind the bathroom door and all he can do is chuckle and grab what is left in front of him. Damn. This is going to be a long night. He thinks to himself as he starts to change.

Thankfully his outfit contained no pink at all. It also doesn't contain a shirt...He ties his bandana around his head and fixes the fur coat to sit more on his shoulders. As he walks out of his room, you walk out of the bathroom and walk right into his bare chest. You squeal and take a step back to get a good look at him. "Eddie! Oh, you look amazing!" You smile up at him with a big, bright pink smile and his cheeks nearly match the shade of lipstick you chose. You grip his arm and pull him to the door, "Come on Ed we have to go or we will be late!"

At the party, the first people you run into are Steve and Robin, who are also Barbie and Ken ironically. Steve chuckles seeing the version of Ken you chose to go along with your Barbie and Eddie looks him up and down. "Hi, Barbie!" You and Robin say at the same time with sharp little waves. Steve waves to Eddie, "Hi...Ken?" This makes Eddie roll his eyes, "I'm the much better Ken."

Robin chuckles and then asks, "So, are you like rock star Ken or something?" Eddie shakes his head and shrugs, "I'm just Ken"

It isn't long until Eddie loses his Barbie, he sighs and walks to the punch bowl hoping that someone has already spiked it. Not shortly after his arrival Steve walks over and Eddie looks towards him with a look on his face "Is this our destiny? I'm going to be honest with you Harrington, these feelings I'm having for her...god they're driving me insane" Steve looks over at him feeling bad for his friend "well what are the feelings? How do you feel about her?" Eddie just shakes his head as he watches you dance out on the dance floor with Robin and sighs. "I can't even explain them."

Tagging: @emmyshortcake @screammunson @sweet-villain @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @steddieandstonathansprincess @munsonology @lofaewrites @eiightysixbaby @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @seatnights @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @tiannasfanfic @chrissymjstan

Author note: This came to me as I was listening to the song again one day when I was driving. When I hit 400 followers I think I'll do a song blurb prompt list thing but I'm not sure yet. Also HAPPY OCTOBER! Literally one of my favorite months and I'm hoping to write more Halloween-themed things! Love you all <3

#eddie as ken!?!? Now my favorite thing ever #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson halloween #stranger thing fluff #stranger things blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #robin stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #halloween imagine #soft eddie munson

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