#Not even sure what ''shitty writing'' is in reference to

[michael-runs-hot-guerin]

Good morning! Haters? I'm the comments of my fic? Girl you already know

The back button is free my good bitch

[lightseoul]

IN THE DARK (1.8k)

a/n. thought about taking a break from my 2k milestone event by writing something that felt very personal to me. i was supposed to rest today but this sort of just...happened. i hope y'all like it.

cw. afab!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up characters, themes of body image issues, mentions of weight gain, minor nsfw references, basically just some hurt/comfort goodness

you’re in the middle of re-scooping your boobs into what has become a tiny ass tank top when a soft array of knocks echoes from the door.

“babe? are you almost done?”

alarmed, you quickly glance at the mirror. it only takes you one look at your reflection to decide that nope—you’re definitely not going with this one—before you swiftly tug it off your body.

at least, you try to do so.

the fabric catches on the areas of your torso that have noticeably gotten fuller in the course of the past year and a half. you huff in frustration as you squirm, desperate to have what used to be your favorite halter top off you.

another round of knocks comes again.

“babe? you okay in there?”

“yeah!” you manage to choke out, finally out of that damned material. “don’t come in—i’m not decent.”

the moment you say those words, you instantly know what the reaction would be.

“hah?” comes his incredulous, borderline offended reply. “the fuck do you mean ‘you’re not decent’?”

scanning the interior of your small walk-in closet, you feel the panic rise in your throat until your eyes land on the pajamas and baggy t-shirt you were wearing before you started trying out outfits for the reunion you were having with the class of 1a tonight.

“i’m just in my underwear,” you retort, frantically putting back on the much more forgiving articles.

“i think i’ve seen you with much less than that, dumbass.”

“okay,” you call out, ignoring his comment and slightly winded from your efforts, “you can come in now!”

as if on cue, the door slowly opens, and in comes bakugou, who’s already dressed in a crisp, black button-down and straight-legged pants, a suspicious glint in his eyes as they dart across the room before landing on you.

and when they do, his lips almost instantly form into a frown.

“i thought you were getting changed?”

you feel yourself flame in embarrassment despite yourself.

“yeah, well…” you wrack your brain for a not-so-incriminating excuse, “none of the outfits i was envisioning are working.”

well, that is the truth, anyway.

it’s just not necessarily complete.

“okay…” he drawls out, entirely unconvinced. “why’d you put your pajamas back on, though? it’s not like i haven’t seen you naked or some shit.”

“uh—” you pause, before finally settling with: “—it’s just that i’m wearing ugly panties, is all. real granny, the-type-you-wear-on-your-period kinda stuff.”

bakugou only stares at you. “since when have you cared about me seeing that?”

you are not about to say that was a shitty excuse you pulled from your ass just now.

so instead, you turn your back against him and start riffling through the racks of clothes. “how ‘bout you help me pick out what to wear for tonight, huh, kats?”

a few moments of silence pass before you finally hear a quiet ‘sure’—which is immediately followed by him stepping forward and occupying the space beside you.

he goes through the options himself before his hands land on the white, off-shoulder peplum blouse you got around a year ago. taking it by the hanger, he lifts it on display.

“how ‘bout this?”

you immediately shake your head. “those make my arms look extra big.”

at that, bakugou’s face contorts in confusion. “what? no, they don’t.”

you chuckle dryly, wondering why you’re even having this conversation.

you coax the shirt from his grip and place it back where he pulled it from. “pick another one.”

bakugou doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him side-eyeing you more than anything. still, he relents, and picks out a sky-blue sleeveless high-neck top you copped from your go-to store a few months ago.

“i remember you looked really good in this,” he offers.

you hum absentmindedly at his comment, studying the spandex-like material. ultimately, though, you shake your head.

“that one hugs me in all the wrong places. really emphasizes my midriff.”

“but—”

“can you choose another one, please?”

the man huffs in what you think is disgruntlement but follows suit anyway. once again, he traces his hand along the articles of clothing for a minute until they finally stop at what used to be your favorite sleeveless, v-neck black crop top.

grinning, he pulls it out.

“you’ve got to wear this.”

at the sight of it, you pull your lips into a tight line. “…i don’t know, babe.”

“seriously?” he asks, looking dangerously close to insulted. “this one makes your boobs look absolutely incredible.”

“katsuki!”

“what? i’m not wrong, am i?”

for a second, you let yourself imagine what you would look like in that rather skimpy top. and for a brief moment, you actually believe it’ll work out.

that is until you remember you’re imagining the you from way back when, and the last time you put it on a few weeks ago, you thought you looked fucking horrendous.

with a heavy sigh and a shake of your head, you take the clothing from his hand so you can return it to the rack.

at least, you try to, because bakugou doesn’t let you.

when you tug again and his grip tightens, you finally look up at the man, confused.

“wha—”

“we need to talk.”

almost instantly, your stomach drops in anticipatory dread.

“oh?” you try to answer nonchalantly, trying to take the item again from his hold. thankfully, this time he lets go, but his serious gaze that’s fixed on you remains unyielding.

“oh? that’s all you have to say?”

you turn away from him, moving to hang it back on the cabinet. “i don’t think there’s time for that right now, kats.”

to further emphasize your point, you glance down at your watch, which now reads 6:17 pm.

fuck.

you’re already going to be late.

you think about it for a beat before finally coming to a conclusion and shifting to face him again.

“i think you should just go ahead.”

bakugo gapes at you like you just told him the sky was green. “what?”

“we’re already running late and i haven’t even done my makeup, let alone picked out what to wear,” you reason.

“you really think i even want to go to this stupid party?” he retorts right back. “you’re the only one who makes them bearable. to hell with this going alone shit.”

“but—”

“not happening, babe.”

you let out a heavy exhale, struggling to tamp down the disappointment at your failed attempt to get out of the situation.

neither of you says anything for what feels like minutes before bakugou finally breaks the monotonous quiet.

“…can i ask you something?”

his voice is so uncharacteristically soft that you can’t help but look up at him despite the visceral urge to avoid his gaze, anticipatory anxiety now churning in your gut at the question.

the man, though, apparently takes your silence as a yes, because he continues.

and you barely manage to stop yourself from choking on your spit when he does.

“why do we only have sex in the dark?”

that was not what you were expecting him to say.

“e-excuse me?”

bakugou moves to rub the back of his neck, perhaps feeling sheepish at his blunt query.

but he presses on.

“it’s just that i remember it wasn’t always like this. when we first started getting intimate with each other, you didn’t mind when the lights were on or if the curtains weren’t drawn. but then…”

“my preferences simply changed,” you interject, scared of letting him continue.

“really?” he asks, but the question seems more rhetorical than not. “because if you were to ask me, i’m starting to think…maybe, just maybe—and i could be wrong about this—you don’t want to be perceived.”

a long pause.

“baby?” comes bakugou’s worried voice when you don’t reply. “did i hurt you?”

you shake your head, although your eyes are trained downcast to your socked feet, unable to meet his gaze.

“say something, please.”

at his request, you finally look up, trying to blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes before he notices.

but it’s either you don’t do it fast enough, or he’s just insanely perceptive, because bakugou manages to catch sight of it, eyes widening the second he does.

“shit, i’m so—”

“it’s okay!” you chuckle, waving him off. you take the hand that was just reaching out to wipe the tears away and encase it with yours. you chance a glance at the man, who’s now peering at you guiltily.

“i really didn’t mean to hurt you,” he starts again, “i just wanted to finally talk about it because—”

“i know, i know,” you cut him off before he can ramble any further. “don’t worry, babe. i’m not angry at you. it’s just…”

you take a shaky inhale.

“…it’s just that it’s been so hard, you know? i really try not to dwell on it because most of it is beyond my control, but…whenever i try on a dress that used to fit me so well, or when i look at my reflection, or especially when i’m bare for you to see and i feel your eyes roving over my body—it just hits me all over again.

“the fact that this is how i look like now. and i hate it.”

you look at bakugou, who’s staring at you so intently with a pained expression on his face.

“you don’t have to say anything,” you quickly add on. “i know this is kind of a lot to take in.”

“yeah—no, it’s just that i’m angry at myself for ever making you feel judged,” he huffs, and you can practically hear the frustration seeping out from his tone.

he tightens his hold on your hand.

“believe me, baby, when i say that when i look at you all so vulnerable like that, it’s never me fucking judging you. i can’t even—

“i can’t even begin to describe how much i love your body. every time i see even just a sliver of what’s underneath your clothes i get so hard i—”

you snort.

“—laugh all you want, but it’s true. it’s fucking embarrassing sometimes, how much my body reacts to seeing yours, but it’s true.”

you shoot him a sad, albeit grateful smile, to which he responds by squeezing your hand.

“look, i know i can’t change how you feel about your body, and i understand that you want to look differently. but i also do know that i can’t just stand here and watch you tear yourself apart like that. you don’t deserve any of that, you fucking hear me?”

you don’t even know where to start with your reply, so you opt to just nod wordlessly instead.

“good,” he grunts. “i’m just here to support you, whatever you wanna do. you already know that i think you’re beautiful the way you are right now, but if you want to do something or work towards a certain goal, i’ll be here.

“i know a thing or two about fitness, if you’re interested in exploring that.”

“really?” you beam at him, already feeling so light. “you’ll really help me with that?”

at that, bakugou scoffs. “‘course i will, dummy. actually…”

you peer at him curiously. “actually, what?”

he grins at you, the mood suddenly taking a mischievous turn.

“…i actually know of a certain cardio activity i wanna do right now, if you’re open to that.”

my replies, reblogs, and asks are open if you wanna talk about stuff <3 sending hugs to you!

[histrynerdss]

EXCUSE ME

i haven’t been here long and my aunt already made a throwaway comment about koreans eating dogs :(

OUGH SENDING YOU GOOD LUCK SHE SOUNDS LIKE A BITCH

[androdetective]

As a poc, I have a complicated relationship to vbros. On one hand, the world is really immersive and the characters can be really great, on the other hand it is a very white show and has a racism problem. Many of the white characters have done racist things when characters have gotten punished or killed for less. There's also barely any side characters of color. And even then, many jokes get made at them regarding their races, because they're not seen as the norm. Also because it's an adult swim show made by white guys.

Off the top of my head, there are 4 side characters of color (Orpheus, Jefferson, Kano, and Dr Z). If we want to be generous, we could include Al. Maybe even Triana with her being biracial, albeit entirely passing as white. Even with those characters, Orpheus became whitewashed over the years.

However, ironically enough, he's the best written character of color. He's a very nice, multifaceted character. He's even become a fan favorite. He's also had no racist comments made towards him in the show. Which was a pleasant surprise. Especially since he lived on the compound with Rusty of all people. As happy as I am with that, it feels off because why did they spare only him but not others? I'm not sure if his race was ever figured out as the writers. It never got brought up, unlike other characters. I won't lie, that gives me a feeling they didn't write him as a brown man in mind. If they did write him with that in mind, he probably would've been written worse. It feels like they could only relate to him and made his character good by thinking he's white like them. Hell, they even projected their weird breakup feelings onto him.

With Jefferson, his character is a mixed bag. He's a cool character and very capable. He's a solid character, all things considered. It's just that he gets racist jokes thrown his way. And just, the show has one black side character, and they can't even act right. Why is racism, the hatred and otherness of one's entire existence, so funny. I noticed that each episode except one that he was in had at least one antiblack joke. That's an insane ratio. The worst joke was in the Halloween episode, where he was at the party. They specifically made his character open the door to a side character, red mantle, doing blackface. It was to make a shitty reference to some niche movie and just oh my god, can you stop being shitty white nerds for a second? People who think shit like this is funny makes me want to project years of racial trauma into their brains so that they could finally Get It. Again, this is the best black character they have, but they to make him go through cheap antiblack jokes.

At least with Kano and Dr Z their skin tones stopped being yellow. The other times we see characters of color are when they're background characters. They're either there to make a scene feel full or they're labor workers. The worst is when they were what I'd describe as background antagonists. One-off antagonists that aren't really villain villains. Moreso regular criminals. These tend to be depicted as black and latino. This was more common in early seasons and stopped happening over time. Which obviously great albeit bare fucking minimum, still doesn't change that it happened.

For a world that critiques the old mentalities from previous generations and even specifically denounces generational toxic masculinity. They don't say shit about the blatant racism of the Johnny Quest times they parody. And the times they try to, it's just showing racism and doing nothing about it. Princess Tinyfeet is the worst example of this. She's a blatant racial stereotype. Who for whatever reason, used to be married to Sgt Hatred, an American soldier. And Sgt Hatred is a whole can of worms.

With Dr Z who was apart of the Quest era, at least they tried to give him a character. The thing I will say is that he's voiced by a white guy (Publick) doing a stereotypical vaguely Eastern Asian accent. Something I wished when watching the show was for Dr Z to mention the old racist era he lived through, and maybe even how the present is still rough. The toxic masculinity of the era got mentioned, so why not that too. It would've been so obvious too.

I won't lie, a part of me is glad they didn't try to handle the racism because it would've been a horrible train wreck. I can get why they didn't delve too into it, they're white after all. I just wish there were more poc in the team and sensitivity writers because they were desperately needed. But for a show that can't even handle white women, I'm not surprised they can't handle people of color. For a show whose best thing they were able to tackle was toxic masculinity, I find it ironic how misogynistic they still were. Like quick, why were the side effects of misogyny that affect you 🫵 handled the best.

The thing is, if they did try to critique the racism, they'd alienate the audience, and it'd also be strangely hypocritical of them. Venture Bros'/Adult Swim's main audience is white cishet men. The ones least affected by bigotry. They're able to laugh at bigoted jokes, and they're the most marketable people. White guys will appeal to other white guys. In the early 2000s, white creators were able to get away with much more. Not because it was alright but because it was easier for them to shut down minorities calling them out. Despite how "normal" it was, that doesn't change how that fed into a very toxic, bigoted culture. Despite today still being hellish for minorities, it was even worse just a couple of years ago.

Venture Bros obviously did not invent racism/bigotry. The show is very much a product of their time and environment. And whenever I think about that, it feels draining. Especially having had to live through the 2000s. The show can be amazing when it wants to be. There's so much potential and a lot of charm and character. I really enjoy it, and that's why I'm so critical of it. Not only because I want it to be better but because I want something better for fans of color. We barely get anything, and the least we should get are characters that look like us and are respected. Just like their white counterparts. It's like, how am I supposed to feel when Sgt Hatred gets redeemed and made a main character before we got a character of color that didn't face racist jokes/got whitewashed. Or even before we got a female character whose existence didn't hinge on their relationship to a man. Obviously, the show doesn't hate people of color. They've tried to better over time, which again great. But it barely felt like they respected poc enough.

With the movie, despite its own problems (not helped by Adult Swim screwing them over), you could tell they were trying. And it was really appreciated. Jefferson had a big spotlight, and there weren't jokes against him. We even got to know a bit more about him. It was genuinely his best. Ignoring Orpheus still looking like he's in a perpetual state of winter, that aspect of the movie was alright.

I'm very glad to see fans who are critical of these aspects. It makes me more happy seeing them vouch for poc. However, there's still a large majority that ignores or even excuses the racism. Unsurprisingly, these tend to be the white dude bro fans. But I've seen even the more liberal fans excuse/ignore stuff. The fanbase is very white, just like a lot of other fanbases. I can get why a supportive white person feels they wouldn't be best to call out the show's shit. I just wish they'd mention it more with a simple "oh there's xyz in this episode and it wasn't alright." Something as simple as that carries a lot of power in very white environments. Also, of course, uplift other fans of color, especially when they talk about or face racism. Things as simple as that make me breathe sighs of relief. It personally encourages me to interact with communities more.

I'm unsure of how to close this off. This feels like a topic you could talk about all day. All I wish is for things to be better, you know? Hopefully this all makes sense. I just wrote shit off the top of my head. I'd love to hear thoughts expanding or adding on to stuff. Really hope this reaches the right people

[mrsmnsn]

The “first date”

summary: After figuring out you liked each other, you and Eddie started dating. Your first interaction wasn’t the way he planned, so he decided to take you out on a proper date.

warnings: MDNI 18+; virgin!reader; fluff; some nerdy references (star wars troop); oral!fem!receiving; shitty writing- sorry about that.

author’s note: Hey guys, i saw how much everyone enjoyed Eddie’s Valentine story so i decided to make a second part. It took me longer then i thought to post this, but my classes at college just started so i’m still adjusting my schedule.

After what happened, you spent the rest of the morning talking in bed. You couldn't believe you actually got the courage to make a move on him. Even if it was to offer a little help with his "issue". And this was one of the many things that surprised you today. The fact that Eddie liked you back was insane. In your mind, Eddie only saw you as a girl friend. A girl he could talk about everything and nothing. Of course sometimes you caught him looking at you in was different way, but you didn't want to get delusional.

And for Eddie, he was meaning to make a move on you since he realized he was head over heels for you. But he honestly thought you would say it was way too weird to be with him this way. In a romantic way. But what is best then dating your best friend. The only thing that changed was the intimacy of things. So that's why he'd never said anything. Till this day.

"How come both of us liked each other but never did anything?" Eddie asked with one arm under his head and the other wrapped around your waist. You were laying on his chest, listening to his heart beating. You don't know how to feel about this yet. Forty minutes ago, you were still "just friends". And now you're all over each other.

"I guess i was just so scared to lose my best friend that I stayed quiet. It was better to have you in that way than not having you at all." You were being honest with yourself and with him, trying to figure it out why have you kept these feelings as a secret.

"Well i'm glad you released your horny devil today" That made you laugh and he joined you. "But to be honest, it's not how i imagined."

"What do you mean?" You got up on your elbows to see his face, a little scared from his confession. Didn't he just said that he liked it?

"I actually imagined that i would have the guts to ask you out and take you in a very nice date. Very romantic. And then, after the normal stuff normal people do, i could actually try to kiss you. But i guess we're not normal." With your eyes locked, he caressed your cheek.

"Yeah, here we start being naughty!" You said in a playful tone with a wicked grin that only made him laugh. You always loved his smile.

"I guess because we took things a little too fast, this is still kind of... unbelievable for me. Do you feel it too?" You asked, concerned you're the only one feeling this.

"Yeah. Kind of. It feels like it's a dream, right?" He asked and you nodded. "But i'm sure this is going to be as normal as last night was. It's just a matter of time. Also, just in case you didn’t realize it yet, you're my girlfriend now lady, you're stuck with me."

"Oh no! What am i gonna do?" You got out of his chest dramatically and he grabbed you again making you laugh

"Really sweetheart, i don't want you to think you'll have to act differently or anything like that. I don't want you to. I like you the way you are. All goofy and funny and sweet ." He said looking at your lips

"Look at you, all over me, aren't ya?" You said as if you weren't feeling the same

"Yeah, you got me."

After that day, you've been dating, and you couldn't be happier. You waited the whole week for saturday, which was the day of your first official date. That's how Eddie called it. Of course, he didn't want to forget what happened in that morning. But he wanted you to feel extra special. Not just some random girl.

So, he decided to take you to the drive in. This events normally happened at summer, but it was just what he wanted. Something simple, but romantic, where you two could spend time together, watching movies and maybe make out in the middle of it. It was a part of your routine together, watching movies. So, in his head, this would make you both very comfortable with the whole situation of the 'first date'.

He parked his van in front of your house right on time. He pressed the doorbell and there you were. With a cute sweater and a skirt. He loved when you wore skirts. It made your legs look so tempting.

"What do you think? Fancy enough for you mister?" You said looking down at your clothes.

"Oh my lady, you look very fancy. Come on, give me a twirl." You did it and, dramatic in his own way, he put his hand on his chest "You look amazing, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Eds" He always loved when you called him like that. Now, it was even more special.

He drove you both to the location. Even though there was a lot of cars in front of you, you had a great view of the screen. It was only ten minutes before the movie started, so he went to buy you some snacks and drinks to survive through the night. It was a marathon of star wars. The three movies. "A New Hope", "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi".

The sun was starting to set when he came back. His curls in the golden light just made him look more like an angel to you.

"Here you go. I'm pretty sure we can survive with this, but if you want more, just tell me, a'right?" He insisted on buying the food, not letting you pay for anything

"That's perfect, thanks!"

Through the first movie, you didn't say a word, trying to understand everything in the movie. You always found it very confusing. Alright, maybe you were containing yourself to not put your hand on his thigh or your head on his shoulder.

Eddie also stayed in silence, too anxious to do something and fuck up the night. It was not his thing, getting anxious about girls. It was actually something he was confident. But with you, was a whole different story. He wanted to be closer to you. He was trying to find a way to get you to stay closer to him without being desperate. So he started putting one hand in your thigh. Your warm skin contrasted with his cold hand. He didn't missed the way your eyes went wide the second he touched you.

They gave a break of ten minutes to start the second movie. Now it was dark outside.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else? There is a big line there but i can go, if you want." He still had his hand on your tight.

"Yes, there is enough here." You assured him. You could see he was nervous. He’d made the first move… you could only follow his lead. "I'm just wondering here. This is a date, right?"

"Yes..."

"Don't you think this big space between us is useless? You can get closer Eddie." You said leaving his cheeks with the cutest shade of red

"I'm sorry, i didn't wanted to be too desperate" He said putting his arm around your shoulder and, without thinking too much, you placed your head on his shoulder. Eddie was in heaven. He had the girl of his dreams right by his side.

In the middle of the second movie you were still in the same position. You decided to move but, with the sudden shift, you exchanged looks. For the first time of the night, you were inches away from his lips. You couldn't help but want to kiss him so bad. Feeling the same as you, Eddie placed his hand on your cheek and brought you closer until your lips met. His lips were soft. His scent invaded your nose.

Your kiss changed from passionate to desperate very quickly. Your hands got greedy, wanting to touch him everywhere you could. In need to breathe, you separate. Panting in each other's mouth, Eddie hold your face with his both hands.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, i think we can't stay this close. I can't hold myself." He said making you smile.

"I don't think we're going to be able to pay attention on the movie anymore." Giggling, you hold his hands. "What if i said that i don't want you to control yourself?"

He separated a bit more so he could look inside your eyes. His eyes were wide open, shocked.

"I know you wanted to be a gentleman and all, but i've been thinking about this for the whole week. And remember that little horny devil? He's greedy now. More than ever." You said pressing your tights together. You weren't lying. Since he said he was going to take you on a date, you've been expecting for all the things that could happen. And you wanted to.

He was speechless. It was cute.

"I know, maybe i'm being too excited about everything. But i want it and i thought that if i had to wait for you to make a move, we would do it on the seventh date or something" He giggled at that. You were right, he thought. He wanted that too. But he would never force you to do something he knows that you didn't have much experience and you could be a little insecure. He wanted you to feel safe. He finally said something.

"Are you sure? I told you, remember? We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Especially when we're in this kind of ‘first date’ situation where we feel like we have to do stuff." You kissed him again. All you wanted was him.

"I'm sure. You said yourself remember. We’re not like the normal couples."

"Really? You know, we're in a public place ma'am. You little perv." He said making you both laugh

"So... What are your moves, huh? Gonna do it here with my clothes on or you're going to take me to the back?" You pulled his shirt to you and kissed him again.

He took your hand and pulled you to the back of the van. There was some pillows and blankets on the back.

"You were planning to do this?" You asked getting closer to him again

"I was going to take you to stargaze, actually. But you turned me on now. We'll do it later, kay?" And he kissed you.

Your kiss, like before, was hot. Craving for each other's touch. You couldn’t help but smile at the situation. Two horny teenagers in the back of a van making out like your life depends on it. Your hands travel through his chest down to his lower belly, pulling his shirt up.

"I honestly don't believe you when you say to me you're a virgin" You giggle to his reaction but stoped immediately. With his shirt off, his bare torso was in front of you. The black ink contrasting with the pale skin. You could keep looking at him shirtless for hours. But you wanted something else.

He changed your positions and looked in your eyes one more time, asking for your permission. You give it to him not thinking twice. So he takes your sweater and skirt off, leaving you only with your underwear. Thank god i piked matching ones today, you think to yourself. He kept looking to the white cotton set you chose.

“They’re pretty cute” He said earning a slap from you. “Sorry. I meant it, though.”

Smiling at him, you pulled him closer again by his necklace hanging above you only to stop inches from his lips.

“Why don’t you take ‘em off and see how cute i am without any clothes?” You said proud of yourself for being this bold. His reaction was priceless.

His hands were caressing you carefully, every move with love and affection. With you naked in front of him, his instinct was to drown himself in your neck, your chest, belly. Kissing all over your skin, making you squirm. You could feel his body heat hovering over you. Too overwhelmed by his actions, you try to take his pants off. You needed him.

“Easy there. I think we have plenty of time sweetheart.” He said taking your hands in his. He only laughed at the way you pouted. “I want to make you feel good. So why don’t you lay here and relax?” He dropped your hands, not before kissing them, and went down on your body. “It’s the only thing i could do after what you did for me last week. You were so good.” His warm breath hovered your mound and you twitched.

Not wasting any more time, he licked your clit and you gasped. You’ve never got head before. This was a new different thing for you. But oh, how you loved it. You’ve only felt some kind of pleasure there by your own fingers. But the way Eddie’s tongue kept moving and twisting around, it was a new addiction to your list. Your hands were attached to the blanket under you. You were trying so hard to not let any sound slip from your lips.

“Does it feel good?” He changed his tongue for his fingers and smiled to see you struggling to keep quiet. Not able to speak, you only nodded. Deciding to push things a little bit, he thrust his tongue inside you and you couldn’t hold the moan that came from your throat. Eddie lost his mind. He grew his movements faster than before, wanting to hear that again. He was glad that you only let them out now, or he would’ve cum in his pants by then.

Everything was so good. His tongue and fingers on your pussy and his free hand pressing your hip down so you kept quiet in place. His burning gaze on you, his hair tickling your thighs. His hot breath coming out of his nose and hitting your mound. You couldn’t take it anymore. You stopped him and pulled him up. He was confused until you kissed him. You could feel your taste on his tongue and how his chin was wet by your own slick.

“I-I need you inside me” You said gasping for air. Eddie felt his cock twitch in his boxers. Your voice was hoarse by pleasure.

He took off his jeans and boxers, almost falling down. You giggled at his tongue poking out while he searched through his wallet for a condom. “I hope this is not in there for five years. You know, condoms can expire” You joke trying to act casual seeing his dick again.

“Ha ha, very funny missy.” His voice full of sarcasm only made you laugh. He was crawling his way up to you when you both heard it. Dart Vader’s imperial march was playing. Probably the last movie had just started. You cracked, laughing hard at the situation. You even forgot where you were.

“Who are we kidding, of course in our first time having sex, Dart Vader is going to be marching towards us. It’s your fault” He said playfully

“My fault?! Why?” You asked amused

“Because you’re goofy. There’s no other reason.” You looked inside his eyes. Both of you still smiling. You just had to squeeze his arm so he knew he could move. And that’s what he did.

Slowly, his ran his tip against your wet folds and thrusted inside you. You closed your eyes, feeling his length stretching you open. It burned, making tears swell up in your eyes. Once he bottomed out, you both moaned. Giving you a few seconds to get accustomed to this new feeling, he caressed your waist, grounding you back to him.

He started to thrust slowly into you. It felt like your lungs were out of air. With each thrust of his hips, that started to get a rhythm. The muscles of his arms were flexed, his necklace was swinging, and the hands that before were caressing you, were now holding your hips for goddamn life.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight” His eyes closed for a second, trying to hold his load a little longer. You watched every move of his. He looked amazing. It didn’t take much time for his dick to reach that spot you struggled to find. It drove you crazy. You arched your back and that made Eddie go faster. You were biting your lip but it wasn’t working anymore. If there was anyone around the van, they would probably hear your moans.

Eddie was also a mess. He wanted to freeze this moment in his mind forever. You looked perfect to him. The sounds you were making, his eyes were rolling back. Your boobs were bouncing up and down with each thrust of his. He looked down where your bodies met and saw the bulge in your lower belly, he didn’t know how long he would take.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” He pressed kisses on your neck. You weren’t able to talk, but you pulled his hair bringing him closer to you, if that was possible. He groaned feeling you clench around him. He could feel how close you were. Once again, he massaged your clit bringing you to the edge. “Come on princess, cum for me. Just let it go” and with that, you were gone.

“Fuck Eddie” Was the only thing you said.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie

You could only think of him. Your nails scratched his back, your feet pressing on his but so he could go even deeper. Your orgasm washed all over you. With you clenching impossibly tighter around him, Eddie was also gone, cumming hard, biting on your shoulder to control his grutal moans.

When your breathing went back to normal with time, he came out of you taking off his condom and laying by your side.

“You think the van bounced too much?” He said breaking the silence. You laughed at his silliness.

“No. Otherwise people would have come here to ruin everything.” You look at him but he was already looking at you. “They might’ve heard us, though.”

“Nah, they’re nerdy people. They’re probably fantasizing about princess Leia now.” As if if wasn’t a nerd too. “You want to get out of here and go stargazing” He said putting a lock of hair behind your ear.

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” You pecked him on the lips and got up to put your clothes back on.

And that’s how you wrap up the night. He drove you both to a place where you could see the stars. You kept talking and eating the rest of your candy from the movie. Your first date couldn’t be more perfect than that

[crescenthistory]

#3 with Lee please!!!

hi sweetheart! in reference to your other ask, no worries about forgetting to put the letter, and thank you for your request<33 i love any and all excuses to write for my love lee

Prompt: E.3 "Is this okay?"

Words: 2k

Warnings: not proofread, smutty (mdni), kissing, touching/groping, nipple play, implied oral, very fluffy foreplay, hair pulling and skin scratching (lee receiving, he is a masochist you cannot change my mind), small choking reference, doting, not a lot of dialogue, cannibalism and homelessness references (bestie this is bones & all)

Note: in my mind, this is you and i, we've grown comfortable here lee and reader's first time. also, asking consent is so hot

Your nose is flooded with the scent of wildflowers and gasoline as the thick air lays heavily around you.

You chose a shabby bar nearby for dinner, the kind of place where people don't look too closely at strangers. It had been loud inside, stifling. The jukebox in the corner was playing some old country tune that didn’t quite fit the mood, but you did not bother to care. Lee led you to a booth toward the back, hand firmly in yours. The wooden seat stuck to the backs of your thighs and your eyes flicked all over, trying to take the place in.

When you ordered, you made a point of brushing your hand against his. The tiniest spark, but enough to let him know what you were thinking. When you leaned into him to talk over the noise of the bar, your lips too close to his ear, it had taken everything in you to pull back and act like it wasn’t deliberate. You saw the way his eyes lingered, how his hand tightened around the glass he was holding.

Lee always picked up on those small gestures, especially the ones you barely knew you were making. It almost scared you how much this boy could read your mind, how well he knew you by now – but even more so, it enticed you and softened your aching heart.

The night flurried away with the familiarity of the unfamiliar. The half-decent meal was devoured, a few drinks some guy sent your way was shared by you and Lee, your hands never not on the other's skin somehow. Eventually, you felt you had waited enough to pull him with you out of there, longing for fresh air, silence and him.

Months ago, you decided on a schedule where you try to scrape in enough money to stay in a shitty motel one night every two weeks. It came about when your back pain worsened and Lee grew worried for you, even when you told him it was no problem.

"If we can ease your pain in any way, that's what we're gonna do, sweetheart." You were simply not allowed any objections.

Motel nights were a small luxury, so it was bound to create some excitement, but recently it had been more than that. It gave you a different kind of privacy than the one you have grown used to on the road, and it created a new tension between you, one you were eager to snap. Stolen kisses building to something more.

Neither of you spoke much on the walk to the motel, Lee's arm around your shoulders. The parking lot was dim, the fluorescent lights overhead flickering every now and then, casting shadows across the worn asphalt. Your mind was racing so loudly that you were sure he could hear it, but you still couldn't help the content smile over your lips. You loved your little life with him, however unconventional and occasionally bloody, and you felt closer and closer to him every day.

Once safe inside the room, you sighed at the safety of a locked door and no strange men with travelling eyes and loud laughters. It was quiet save for the distant hum of the highway and the soft rasp of Lee's breath, two of your favourite sounds.

That very soft rasp grew closer as Lee came up behind you, tentatively circling his arms around your waist, drawing your back into his chest. His fingers stroked against your sides and you leaned into him with all your weight, tilting your head slightly to the side. Lee clearly took it as an invitation, leaning down to press slow, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. He kissed from the junction of your shoulder and neck up to a spot behind your ear he found a few weeks back that had made you moan, in search of those same beautiful sounds. You gave him what he wanted, and you could feel his smile against your ear.

"You are so beautiful, love," he whispered, fingers travelling under the hem of your shirt, barely skimming the skin there.

"Just beautiful, hm?" you teased. You turned around in his grip, body still flush against his, and placed your hands on the back of his neck to play with his hair.

His gaze bore into yours, darkening. "Beautiful, stunning, hot, unbelievably, painfully sexy. Whichever you prefer, darling, they're all true."

You smiled, bringing your face closer and closer to his, still keen on teasing him a bit. When you spoke, your lips almost brushed his. "I prefer yours actually."

He groaned at your words, closing the gap between you with almost bruising force, desperately kissing you.

You were never this brazen, treating this thing between you with delicacy, indulging yourself in kisses and touches, but no more. Tonight, though, whether it was your slight tipsiness, the motel or just that the longer you were around Lee, the more his every move sparked you up – you needed him.

Lee moved the two of you without breaking away from your lips, backing you up against the wall beside the bed. His hands were splayed against the bare flesh of your sides, kneading it sensually as he tried to press himself even closer to you. His lips moved against yours sloppily, his tongue swirling against your bottom lip and teeth, seeking yours inside your mouth. It was always messy with Lee, and you hadn't expected to be driven so crazy by it, but you were overwhelmed with it, trying to take in more and more of him.

When his lips trailed down your jaw to kiss the un-touched side of your neck, you realised you had forgotten to turn on the light. The room was lit up only by the purple hazy motel sign outside the window, and Lee looked painfully good bathed in it. Even from your angle, where you only saw his shoulder, part of his back and his hair with your hand tangled in it – it was perfect.

Lee tugged at your shirt and helped you out of it in seconds, fingertips dragging across your skin, leaving fire in their wake. The cool sensation of the wall against your back mixed with the heat of his hands made your thoughts become incoherent, now only filled with Lee.

You hooked your own fingers into the collar of his shirt, dragging him closer, crushing your lips to his in a way that told him everything. You slip your hands underneath it, letting your nails drag along his barely-there abs, up to his throat that you lightly squeeze. Lee's lips smiled into yours as he gave a soft moan that drove you to rip his shirt off as well, skin finally against skin.

His skin was softer than it had any right to be, given the life he leads, given the way his knuckles were scarred and his heart was walled off from everyone except you. You kissed him harder, like you were trying to draw him out from the place he always disappeared to inside himself. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you in, his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to make you gasp against his mouth.

And God, the way his mouth moved against yours – slow, then rough, then soft again, like he was trying to find some rhythm in the chaos of it all. Lee kissed like someone who had been starved for touch his whole life, as if this, you, were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

His mouth disappeared from yours again, pulling a soft whine from you that he chuckled at, breath tickling your skin. He placated you as he quickly dragged it down to your chest, licking stripes and leaving small bites in his path. How funny that the same teeth that tore flesh from bone could be so loving, so carefully enticing when on you. One hand on the small of your back, arching your hips into his ever so slightly, and another going up to your breast, palming and squeezing, with his thumb brushing over your nipple. In similar fashion, his doting mouth finally closed around your other nipple, flicking his tongue before drawing increasingly larger circles with it.

Your hands were back in his hair at that, clutching at it and tugging just barely – at the feel of his moan against your skin, you pulled harder, making his movements more desperate. Your chest was pressed against his mouth, squirming your hips against his body that was still flush with yours.

His teeth grazed over your sensitive skin and you mewled, sputtering his name between gasps. He looked up without his lips or tongue not leaving you and seemed to get drunk on the sight of you. When you flashed him a smile his expression immediately mirrored yours, revelling in the moment with you. The best of friends, venturing together into this, whatever it may be. His lips moved to your other breast, fingers taking over to placate the wet skin there.

"Lee," you whispered desperately. "I need you."

His face was up by yours again in a heartbeat, eyes searching yours for a second before crashing his lips onto yours once more, taking your bottom lip in between his and sucking. Meanwhile each of his thumbs find your nipples, rubbing circles on them, eliciting another moan into his mouth.

"You need me, sweet girl?" He asked in between kisses and you just nodded against him.

"Are you sure?"

You pulled back at that, hands moving from his hair to cup his jaw, feeling the slight stubble that had begun to grow there. He looked at you intensely, but you didn't see insecurity in his eyes – just curiosity, want, as if he needed to learn everything about you, right in this moment.

"I've always needed you, Lee. And I always will. Please."

He grinned, kissing you once, slowly, before dropping to his knees, kissing and licking across your chest down to your stomach, cheekily biting you to the left of your belly button. His hands moved to grab your ass, kneading quickly before tucking his thumbs into the bandwidth of your skirt, teasing it down a few centimetres. When you arched your back from the wall to help, he pulled it all the way down to the floor, helping you step out of it.

You were left leaning against the wall, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, wearing just your panties. Both of your breaths were coming in shallow gasps as Lee placed soft, sweet kisses to your upper thigh. He looked so beautiful on his knees before you and you moved a hand to touch his chin, making him look up at you. The amount of adoration pouring from his eyes made your stomach flip almost as much as feeling his breath on your most intimate parts did.

Maintaining eye contact, Lee kissed right above your panties, upper lip on your burning hot skin, lower touching the lacy fabric. His fingers teased the strings on the sides of your hips, a few of them slipping beneath, stroking your hips.

"Is this okay?" Lee asked. You nodded enthusiastically, aching for him, but his eyes still seemed inquisitive, wanting verbal confirmation.

"Yes, so okay. I want you."

His eyes darkened and he grinned mischievously. "Say it again."

"I want you, Lee, please."

That was the last bit of encouragement he needed from your desperate voice and another harsh pull at his hair. Lee leaned in to kiss you through your panties before finally pulling them off.

In the burning darkness the two of you created, you had never felt so full, loved and safe – all because of Lee.

[yearsbecomingcool]

where did the party go? | simon kalivoda

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | simon kalivoda x f!reader

synopsis | your best friend invites you to a party & simon teaches you how to take a shot.

warnings | underage drinking, driving after one shot, slight sexual references, innocent!reader, f!reader, possibly ooc!simon, reader is described as being shorter than simon.

word count | 2.8k

a/n | i am so awful at taking shots so reader is very me coded in this. i kept having thoughts of someone teaching met to take a shot like this and it felt kind of simon coded so that's where this came from. debating on writing for some of Fred's other character but haven't fully decided on who yet!! if y'all have any requests/suggestions my ask box is open!! also thank you to everyone for all the support on call me, beep me!! it means so much to get so much feedback :D

“Why the fuck is this impossible?!” You groan, throwing yet another dress to the floor, that’s the fourth one in the last twenty minutes. You’re standing in a pile of dresses and skirts you’ve all deemed too ugly to wear out tonight. Your friend, Aubrey, pokes her head into the closet and gives you a small smile. 

“You need some help babe?” She asks, pulling the door open a little bit further. She convinced you to finally try going out to a party with her.

She had sat down at lunch with a huge smile on her face, “Have I got a proposition for you!” Her tone worried you, she sounded a little too excited. 

You groan and look up from your shitty school lunch, “What is it this time?” 

“Don’t look so upset, I haven’t even told you yet! Anyway, Taylor Owens’ parents are gonna be out of town this weekend so she’s throwing a party tonight and don’t give me that look!” You’re glaring, you hate parties and Aubrey is well aware of that.

“Your little crush is gonna be there, he got off for the night to deal, he’ll definitely be making way more than whatever Grab & Bag pays him,” Aubrey explains, picking up a soggy fry from her tray. 

“Aubrey, I don't know. I’m really not a party person, you know that,” you sigh.

“You should go to just this one and if you hate it you never have to go to any ever again, pinky promise,” she smiles, holding her pinky out to you. 

You weigh your options, you hate crowds and all things loud, besides concerts for some reason…you’re not sure how to explain that but that's another problem for another time. But, if you go Simon will be there and you might finally be able to talk to him. You’ve been watching him from afar like a lovesick puppy for way too long now, if you don’t make a move tonight it’s possible that you never will. You sigh and wrap your pinky around hers in agreement. 

“Ohh hell yes, I’m coming to your place to help you pick what to wear. I love you too much to let you show up in a skirt that goes past your knees.”

“I hate everything I own right now,” you say bluntly, looking at Aubrey with a defeated look on your face. “Can’t I wear like, jeans or something?” 

“A skirt is easier to take off,” Aubrey jokes, laughing hard at the sight of your eyes widening at her words. “C’mon, give Simon something to look at that he hasn’t already seen. I know you’ve got something short and cute in there, let me look.” She pulls you out of your closet and you sit on your bed watching as she rummages through it. You sigh and lay back on the bed waiting for her to make her selections. 

“Ooh perfect!” Aubrey exclaims. Before you can even sit up you’re hit in the face with a dark purple babydoll dress you barely remember buying. 

“Um, ow?!” You pull the dress off your face and sit up glaring at her. You hold the dress up in front of you. It’s made of velvet and has white ruffles at the bottom and on the neckline.

“You’re gonna look hot in this. Very Courtney Love or Kat Bjelland.” 

You fold the dress over your arm and look up at her, “Fine…I’ll wear. You wanna find me some shoes?” Aubrey nods in response and goes back to your closet while you strip off and slip on the dress. It fits you perfectly, the hem reaching just above your fingertips. You grab a pair of tights from your drawer and slip them on as well. Aubrey lays out a pair of mary janes for you.

“I’m gonna run to my place and get ready, I’ll be back here at 8,” Aubrey says before heading out your door and leaving you alone to figure out your hair and makeup. You pull out a box of magazines from under your bed for some inspiration. You’re a fan of the messy grungey looks all your favorite artists wear. You finally land on a picture of Courtney Love that helps you make up your mind. You copy her dark red lipstick, smudged black liner, and add some mascara. You feel…hot. It’s a first for you to feel anything but fine. 

At 8pm on the dot you hear honking outside your house, you push the curtain out of the way and smile as you see Aubrey waiting outside in her beat up Honda. You head out the door, locking it behind you, and hop in the passenger seat. “You look fucking hot!” Aubrey exclaims, turning on the light in the car to get a better look at you.

You smile giddily, “Thanks…you do too. Anyone you have your eye on tonight?” 

She laughs, “Not unless Heather Watkins plans on breaking up with Ryan anytime soon.”

“We can only hope she’ll turn to her senses and give you a chance.”

“Damn right…Simon is gonna be all over you tonight y’know. I’ve seen Deena make him listen to Hole at lunch before, there’s no way that boy doesn’t have a crush on Courtney Love. You look like her but a million times hotter right now,” Aubrey says, clicking the car light back off and putting the car into drive. You fumble through the tapes in her glove compartment. You pull out a Bikini Kill tape and put it on. 

“How exactly am I supposed to talk to him?” You ask, turning to look at her as she starts the drive to Taylor’s house for the party.

“Well you open your mouth and-” Your groan cuts her off. She laughs at her own joke and rolls her eyes, “It’ll be much easier if you don’t stress over it. Just be yourself, he’ll like you.” You feel unsure, you don’t even know if he knows your name. You’ve been too shy to speak much to him. 

You’ve seen him at his work a few times and he’s always been friendly, but he’s paid for that so it doesn’t mean much in your eyes. “But what if he doesn’t? What if I’ve been pining over this guy for like two years now and he thinks I’m weird or embarrassing or-”

Aubrey rolls her eyes, “He’ll like you, trust me. Okay? And if he doesn’t you can get drunk and then we’ll go to Taco Bell and you can eat as many tacos as you want, okay?” 

“Fine…Taco Bell does sound kind of nice.” 

It doesn’t take long before you pull up in front of Taylor Owens house. There’s already dozens of people out in the grass all hanging out, the best part of living in the woods is having no neighbors to snitch when you throw a party. Aubrey finds a clear space to park and the two of you head inside, you stick close to her as you follow her inside. Some pop song you struggle to recognize is blaring from the speakers when you step inside, you both have to move carefully around the house as it’s already pretty packed. Your eyes scan across the room looking for Simon, you don’t see him but you do see his friends Kate and Deena in the kitchen. They’re leaning against the counter by the drinks talking with one another. As Aubrey leads you into the kitchen Simon comes in through the backdoor. 

“Kate c’mon, it’s your turn to take over, I’ve been out there for an hour now!”

Kate sighs, “Would another hour kill you?”

“You promised we’d switch every hour, go show those jocks your charm, there’s only so much I can do,” he jokes, nudging her towards the door. She rolls her eyes in annoyance but heads out back anyway, Deena follows behind her to keep her company. As Simon turns away from the girls his eyes land on you, he smiles wide and laughs in disbelief. “Holy shit…I never thought I’d see the day you came to a party!” He walks towards you giddily.

You laugh nervously, “Uh yeah, Aubrey practically had to drag me here…”

Aubrey looks over at you and then to Simon and then back at you. She nudges you towards Simon and looks up at him, “Y’know, they’ve never even drank before.”

“Seriously?” Simon wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you over to the booze, you look back at Aubrey and she’s smiling at you with a thumbs up. “We are gonna fix that, take your pick.” You nervously look over all the different bottles, unsure of what you might like. 

“Uhh…what do you like? I don’t really know where to start with any of this…” You answer nervously. All the different brands and types overwhelm you.

Simon pulls you closer to him, leaning forward to get a better look at the selection. “Hmm…how about…peach schnapps! He grabs the clear bottle off the island, holding it up for you. “This barely tastes like anything, you’ll like it. Trust me.” He sets the bottle back down and grabs you a pink plastic shot glass, grabbing himself a purple one. You watch as he pours you both a shot, handing yours over after. You hold the shot glass up to your nose and sniff, nose crinkling in disgust.

“Is it supposed to smell like that?” You ask, looking at him warily. 

“Oh yeah, all alcohol tastes and smells pretty gross, this one isn’t as bad as the rest though. You’ll be fine, trust me,” he smiles. You watch as he leans his head back and takes his shot. You watch how his nose crinkles at the taste as he sets down the shot glass.

“So I just lean my head back and drink it?” You ask, holding your drink up..

“Pretty much, you wanna take it fast, don’t let it sit in your mouth. If you do you’ll wanna spit it out, this one tastes a little like cough syrup so you really don’t want it sitting in your mouth,” Simon explains. 

You hold the glass up to your lips and lean your head back, attempting to shoot it back but you only get about half the shot into your mouth before you try to choke it down. Simon giggles and shakes his head, “Uh, here. Let me help you.” He grabs your chin and leans your head back, “Mouth open, c’mon.” You feel your cheeks heat up but you do as he says. He grabs the shot glass from the counter and holds it up, “Let’s try this again, yeah?” You’re definitely going to be thinking about this in the shower later. He holds the shot glass up to your lips and tilts your head back just a bit more before pouring the shot down your throat. He lets you go once you’ve swallowed it down but smiles smugly as he watches you wipe your lips. “You’ve got it for next time right?” 

“Y-Yeah…definitely,” you sputter. Your pupils are blown and you feel hot. Your eyes wander his body shamelessly. You’ve never had anyone touch you like that, never had anyone take charge like that. It lights a fire in you with only one way to put it out. Simon can tell he’s got you worked up, he looks almost proud of it. 

“What’d you think? It wasn’t too bad, right?” He asks, moving in closer to you, putting his hand behind you on the counter you’re leaned up against. 

“I-It was nice…I mean, it didn’t taste as bad when you helped me,” you say nervously, looking down at your feet and playing with the hem of your dress. His hand comes down to feel the velvet material, grabbing the hem and rubbing the fabric between his fingers. 

“I like this look on you, very…punk. It suits you.” Your cheeks heat up again at his comment, at this moment you’re mentally begging someone to turn the ac up. 

“Thanks…I don’t usually dress like this, I kind of like it,” You say softly, looking up at him. He shifts his eyes to yours, briefing flicking down to your lips then back to your eyes.

“Why don’t you? It suits you, you like it, so what’s stopping you?” He asks, continuing to absentmindedly play with the hem of your dress. 

“I don’t know…I just don’t want to stick out at school I guess? It feels easier to just blend into the background, y’know?” 

“Let’s make a deal, you start dressing however you want and if anyone says anything about it I’ll have your back. It’ll make my day better to see you walk into school wearing something like this,” he teases, letting go of the hem of your skirt.

“Fine…deal,” you chuckle, holding out your hand for him to shake on it. His grip is firm when he grabs your hand, he pulls you slightly forward as he shakes on it. You put your hand against his chest to stop yourself from stumbling forward. 

“I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to talk to you. I’ve seen you around school for years, you’ve always looked cute y’know. You remind me of the basketcase chick from The Breakfast Club, before they gave her that shitty makeover at the end though. You just…you’ve always looked cool, I don’t know why we didn’t talk before,” Simon rambles.

“To be honest you’ve always intimidated me a little, I don’t know why. I’ve always wanted to talk to you but I could never work up the confidence.” You can’t believe you’re admitting that to him. 

“Me? Intimidating? You flatter me,” Simon giggles, his hand comes up to his chest dramatically before he gives you a coy look.

You roll your eyes and lean back against the counter again, Simon puts his hand on the other side of you, boxing you in against the counter now. “Are you always this dramatic?”

He feigns offense, gasping and pouting at your words. “Dramatic? I am not dramatic.”

You chuckle, “You should really consider joining theatre.”

“They’d be lucky to have me,” he says cockily.

“So lucky.”

You both pause, tension thick between you two. You’re both suddenly aware of just how close you are to one another. His hand comes up to cup your face and you melt into his touch. He starts to lean in before being interrupted by Kate.

“Si! C’mon switch with me, it’s been an hour.” He sighs and turns back to face her, his hands coming down to his side, making a fist in annoyance.

“I was kind of in the middle of something, Kate!” He groans, his eyes flicking back to you as you lean against the counter. 

Her eyebrows raise and she laughs, “Oh! Were you just-”

“I was about to,” Simon cuts her off.

“Well, rules are rules right. We’ve gotta make money somehow,” she says, crossing her arms. 

Simon debates what to do but eventually sighs and gives in, “Fine. Yeah, whatever.” He;s clearly annoyed by Kate interrupting the two of you. He turns back to you and kisses you quickly, catching you off guard. When he pulls away you instinctively lean towards him, almost chasing after his lips. “Come meet me outside, I’ll need some company. Maybe even give you and your friend a little sample, yeah?” He pulls away before you can respond and slips out the back door. 

“Did you really need to cock block him like that?” Deena groans at Kate. 

“He’s done it to me before, I wanted a little revenge,” she turns to you, “No offense to you.” 

“None taken…I think?”

Before Kate can say anything else Aubrey comes up behind you and drags you away from Kate and Deena. She pulls you towards the front door, “We need to go, whatever shitty food they had is going to make me puke. Can you drive?” Her face is pale and she doesn’t look great.

“Shit, yeah. Uh, go start the car. I’ll be out in a minute, there’s something I need to do really quickly.” Aubrey nods and heads out the front. You head towards the back to find Simon sitting in a lawn chair, a box in his lap, looking beyond bored. “You got a sharpie on you?” You ask, standing in front of him.

He nods and grabs it out of his hoodie pocket, he hands it to you with a confused look on his face. You grab his arm and roll up his sleeve, you quickly write your number on his arm and toss the sharpie back into his lap. You kiss his cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark. “Call me, okay?” 

He looks at you like he could kiss you again. “Yes ma’am,” he chuckles, leaning back in the chair and watching as you run off through the gate and to Aubrey’s car.

[livingdeadmlm]

Slight Age Gap with Daisuke 7/31

Pronouns: The reader refers to themself as a man once, and the Daisuke treats the reader as male mentally. 

Physical Sex: not described

How far are things going? He is jerking off, and it implies he asks for a sexual favor after the fic ends

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of shitty porn tropes, Daisuke pictures while jerking off, slight age gap dramatize for the kink of the day. Reader is meant to be 24-26 and daisuke is meant to be 20-22 (yeah not that big comapred to the people doing 40+ dating 20 on this hellsite but whateva)

Outline: Daisuke has been lacking free time, especially with his slightly older coworker, so he takes whatever chance he gets for some relief

What inspired me to write how I did: Nothing!

Other: there is very little content fanfic wise for the fandom, so as I do, I join a month late with something half as good as what has been already posted, lol. But if you like this and want more my requests are always open!!!

You shouldn't fuck your coworkers; it's very frowned upon. Not only can it cause unnecessary work drama, it can negatively affect productivity. The two people could start fighting, or production slows down in favor of sneaking off. It was so looked down upon that Pony Express had a whole section in their training videos discouraging it. Even though Daisuke was an intern, he had to watch every video, granted very loosely. But what he did remember was the videos said nothing about jerking off to your coworkers. 

With the others walking in and out semi-frequently when they needed your assistance to fix something, it was hard to catch some alone time, especially with you.

As Daisuke lay comfortably on his bed, the soft glow from his small handheld game illuminated his face, twisted in focus. The rhythmic clicks and cheerful beeps signaled each successful move he made. As you entered the room, the air was filled with the faint scent of soap and shampoo, letting him know you had just finished a shower without looking. 

With droplets of water still clinging to your hair, you stepped over to your side of the room, your skin slightly dewy. As you kicked off your slippers and searched through your bags, you looked much more relaxed as Daisuke glanced over.

A cartoony sound of a crash echoed from the console as the intern was momentarily distracted and couldn't help but gaze at your bent-over figure. The colorful screen on the console flickered as the game over scene flashed. The intern's eyes widened as he tried to groan to cover up the fact that he lost because he was staring at your ass.

"Do you still want to borrow a blanket, Daisuke? I have an extra. These wool blankets make your skin feel awful in the long run." your voice gently broke the silence as you turned with the black blanket folded in your hands. Subconsciously, Daisuke rubbed his hands against the itchy wool before nodding. 

You smiled, walking over to his bed and letting the blanket unfold in your hands. "Here, I'll tuck you in!" yanking off the hospital-esque wool blanket and replacing it with the plush black one you had packed. The blanket covered Daisuke completely as your hands tucked him in snugly. He couldn't help but laugh as you made a big show, tucking him in so tight. Your hands slipped under his body to make sure he was fully tucked in. Having your hands touch him so much made him a bit shy.

Laughter filled the air as you shared a sweet moment, your fingers gently resting on Daisuke's chest after giving it a firm pat. Unbeknownst to you, his heart raced wildly at the unexpected warmth of your touch. Your giggles quickly stopped as the door swung open, revealing curly. 

"(Name), the light in my washroom went out. Would you be able to come and change the bulb? Jimmy keeps trying, but it's not turning on." Curlies's face was sheepish at the request, especially since it was so close to bedtime. 

"Of course, caption," You did a small salute; Daisuke internally cursed at Curly for interrupting one of the few moments of touch you two have had. "Just had to tuck in the intern; can't have him sneaking off and causing trouble!" your hand grazed his hair as you stepped away from the bed, following a chuckling Curly out of the room. As you stepped out of the room, he caught your words. 'No, I'm kidding, he's a very good boy.'

Daisuke cast his gaze downward, taking in your words as he stared at his body swathed in the soft, tightly wrapped blanket. A familiar scent wafted through the air, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. It was a delightful combination of your body wash intertwined with the freshness of what he presumed was your laundry soap, a subtle, clean aroma. Beneath it all, he caught the unmistakable, soothing essence of you—something uniquely personal that lingered in the fabric.

As he began to unwind himself from the cocoon of warmth, he carefully shifted his position, rolling onto his side with his back turned towards the door. The smooth texture of the blanket brushed against his skin, and he instinctively pressed his face into it, inhaling deeply. Each breath brought him closer to that unreachable sense of comfort and safety as he reveled in the intimate sensations of the fabric against his cheek. Daisukes hand traveled down. He wore a loose pair of sleep shorts, making slipping his hands into his boxers easy.

He always had the vague idea he was gay or desired men in some way, especially during and after high school. Even now, 3 years later, he didn't think about it. Didn't think about it as his hand took firm hold of his dick. Didn't think about it as he held the blanket closer to his nose. He didn't think about it as all he could imagine was you. He didn’t think about it, as your words echoed in Daisuke's mind. Imagining you on top of him, pulling off his clothes, and while you wouldn't be his first kiss, you would be his first brush with non-awkward sexual contact. Daisuke covered his mouth as a whine ripped through his throat at the quick pace he set for himself. The fleece blanket you had brought from home filled his senses with your smell.

He didn't have much time or could make much noise, as the door was still cracked open. He could hear the muffled talking and ignored it instead of focusing on crossing the finish line. Thinking of your bent-over figure and the times you'd press against him trying to squeeze by in electrical. Your head would be close to his when you'd help him with a level.

A light, muffled, wet noise started as his cock began to drool. His lack of experience led him to imagine whatever scenarios he had seen in shitty pornos. Being a couple of years younger, he couldn't help but think of ones with more of a… power dynamic.

You in a button-up shirt with the first three undone tight slacks on pressing him against a blackboard in an empty lecture hall, his own tiny, poor quality plaid skirt, that he didn't have time to make sense of if he was supposed to be a college student, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Bending him over a desk, pushing up his black a-line skirt, and tearing his black nylon stockings as his thin-framed glasses mushed against the desk. As papers were scattered all over the floor around the desk. With a huff, Daisuke changed his laying position to lay on his back. His hand didn’t falter, but he was so close he could feel the slight tingle in his stomach start.

Handcuffed as you slide a baton up his orange jumpsuit-covered thigh, calling him a naughty boy. He couldn't help the slight whine that slipped as his legs shook with each pass of his hand. Now, picturing you taking advantage of his often spread-out position on the oversized couch in the main lobby. Your uniform is in its usual half-undone state as you slot yourself between his legs, ‘you’ve been such a good boy, Daisuke; how about a reward, huh? What do you want me to do?’ Deep eyes gazed into his own as his breath stuck in his throat. Your hands caressing his thighs, your head resting against his boner made very clear from his jeans.

Reaching the edge, eyes squinting and half-dyed blond hair splayed across the pillow, he finally spilled over his hand. The hot liquid coated the back of his palm as he huffed, the reality of his desperation not hitting him yet. He panted as he heard your thumping footsteps making their way back to the room. Grabbing a tissue from the bedside table, each employee was provided with a tissue. Daisuke cleaned off his hand and shoved the tissue under his pillow.

“Well, it's time to turn in, don’t you think? “ Daisuke quickly uncovered his face from the blanket. “Hey- are you okay? You’re all red!” You rushed over, placing a hand against his forehead, which, as you thought, was burning up.

“No! I’m okay. I just passed out for a second and had a, um, nightmare.” You sighed in relief, your hand remaining on Daisuke's forehead.

“It’s your first time on the Tulpar, and I get it. I would always have nightmares my first year as well.” You coughed awkwardly, taking your hand off his forehead.

“Sorry if it feels like I ever baby you, Daisuke; you coming on at the very last minute, and having never done this before, I feel a bit protective over your first experience here.” Your voice was somber, and while work was work, it made you sad to witness someone just a couple of years your junior facing the possibility of being tethered to this job for a long time as you have been

Daisukes throat was dry. The major shift in mood was hard to grasp as he squeaked out a thank you. You smiled softly. “I have to remember you are just three years younger and are just as much of a man as I am, and if you need my help, you know you can ask!” Daisuke squirmed at how he twisted your words for his dirty mind.

“I could teach you some handyman work when Swansea gets off your back a bit. I've been doing it for years, and sharing my craft would be fun to hang out!” You mumbled about being grateful for someone your age here, as everyone else was almost 10+ years older. Daisuke said a resounding yes to your offer. With a big grin, you stood up and shut the door, and the light in the room was flicked off as you wished Daisuke a good night.

“I think there is something I need help with (Name).”

[noemilivv]

Hey Mio-!!! I know your reqs are closed rn so I'm really just leaving this here so I don't forget the idea, but I saw a tiktok that inspired meee and I was thinking what ab a reader who accidentally confesses to Vox/the hazbin people when drunk and based on their reactions maybe thinks they're turning the reader down but they aren't oki bye bye have a good weekend!!!

-🍂anon

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 + 𝐯𝐞𝐞𝐬 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: hello 🍂anon!! i’m so sorry i kept you waiting on this, i couldn’t stop procrastinating it 😭😭 also i’m sorry if vox seems more mean then normal, i feel like i’ve been writing him too victim-y and at the end of the day he’s an asshole too and i tried to show that. but i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of alcohol/being drunk/drinking/etc, profanity, mentions of sex (no smut), vox being a bit of an asshole <;/3

proofread: HAH! no. (heh, your loss) someone tell me you got that reference 😭😭

including: charlie, vaggie, angel dust, husk, lucifer, vox

tags: hazbin hotel, fanfiction, x reader

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞

girl is flabbergasted. i mean, she’s always heard the term ‘drunk words are sober thoughts’ or something like that, but she’s surprised you would say that to begin with — true or not.

but obviously, she feels romantically about you, so if it wasn’t true and it was just something you blurted out whilst drunk, she’s gonna be a bit upset

so she tells you, if you really feel that way, you can tell her when you’re sober, and she puts you to bed :)

𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞

she can only maintain her calmness for so long until she simply loses her composure, she’s not good at hiding her true feelings and/or thoughts for an extensive period of time

vaggie makes sure you get to bed safe, but she doesn’t bring up until you’re fully sober, she wants your recovery from your hangover to be stress-free and relaxing — not anything that could make you distraught

although, she may or may not dote on you a little extra the next morning…

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭

angel knows what it’s like to say something you weren’t ready to whilst under the influence, he’s done it more times then he’s willing to admit

so he’s (as sweetly as he can be) stern about being 100% sober whilst making decisions to blurt this kinda stuff out

deep down, angel knows it’s true, he knows you wouldn’t lie to him about smth like that, drunk or not — but he can’t help but in awe in a way

like he’s a famous pornstar, you don’t love him for his money or body or looks, you love him for being anthony, and not angel dust, and he’s simply not used to it

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐤

husker is a bartender, he’s heard everything in the book, exceeeept someone drunkenly confessing to him while he’s serving them drinks after a shitty night

it’s safe to say… he’s cautious, he’s seen a lot of drunk people do a lot of dumb shit, so he’s unsure if confession is as sincere as it can be

first, he wants to make sure you’re in the right mind before he even thinks before saying he feels the same, he’s been hurt a couple times, and he’s not ready to go through that again, whether he admits it or not

it’ll probably take him a few days until he brings it up, he’s the kinda guy who wants to reflect before making big decisions

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫

honestly, lucifer is probably the most shocked out of all them, after being divorced for seven years, possibly more, the guy eventually thought he was gonna be forever alone, especially considering he’s the literal king of hell

the thought of that you’re drunk and may not know what you’re getting into doesn’t even cross his mind, he’s had few interactions with women tbh, and most of them were mainly sexual (like with adam’s wives)

so he gets all giddy and happy and accepts your confession immediately ! it doesn’t hit him until a few months into your relationship that he probably should’ve waited until you were sober LOL

𝐯𝐨𝐱

vox, like angel, has never had someone genuinely confess their love to him. he’s had an on-and-off sexual relationship with valentino and gotten creepy love letters from fans — but that’s about it

honestly, as shitty as it he can’t help but take advantage of your drunken state, just slightly.

he sorta feeds into any praise you give him, and will lowkey force it out of you, his ego needs to be fed and it’s only getting started

let’s be real, vox isn’t the most perfect guy around, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hold a soft spot for you, although, at this point, a solid relationship cannot be promised :(

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

[tac-the-unseen]

What the Lost boys think about vampire related media

Fluff, x reader but just barely

•While making conversation with your four Vampire lovers you were suddenly plagued with a question.

“How do you guys feel about vampire related media?”

-That question was an immediate head turner. The cave goes dead quite before Dwayne speaks up, “Well…vampires are in hiding so…”

-This sparks a conversation about how media representation of vampires may not be accurate, but that's a good thing. “If a book or movie comes out and it is shockingly accurate to what being a vampire is really like, the creator isn't going to last long.” David explained

-That's because there's a set of rules vampires have to follow and one of those rules is to never publicly reveal your double life identity

-”If something like that comes out, that means a vampire has broken that rule OR somebody knows vampires very closely and is creating media they know shouldn't exist.”

-Turns out if a vampire breaks that rule it's basically open season to kill and destroy their creations.

•You turn the conversation and begin to ask how they, specifically, feel about certain vampire representation

•Bram Stoker's Dracula

-Dwayne is the first to buy in his opinion.

-Dwayne feels that while it is a cult classic and well written, The characters are exceedingly dumb.

-”Johnathan spends a ridiculous amount of time talking about other characters ‘Breasts’ and trying to figure out why his host climbs walls ‘like a lizard's.”

-David is the next one to speak up

-David thinks it's not really worth the read

-”Unless you're trying to brag to people there's no point in reading it.”

-”Also why was Mina talking to that old sailor so much?”

-Paul laughs as he remembers “how fucking crazy he wrote Dracula to be”

-”I'm pretty sure the real Dracula thinks it's a heinous crime against him”

-Paul hasn't read it but have heard enough about it to know even the more obscure references

-Marko comments on the graceful writing style and the beautiful descriptions

-”I've only read it because Dwayne thought I would like it"

-Marko also loves how oblivious Jonathan and most of the other characters are

-All of them think the movie adaptation is hilarious and love the shitty special effects

•Interview with a vampire

-Paul chimes in immediately

-”God it's so homo erotic it hurts…in a good way.”

-Paul thinks its a nice horror novel mixed with a weird cozy atmosphere

-Dwayne thinks it's another well written classic and He actually begins to rave about all the themes involved within Anne Rice’s work

-”It's a beautiful Gothic thriller with a deep, sadly comedic energy.”

-He even offers to read it too you sometime

-Marko chimes in quickly about “Claudia’s rebellious behavior and persona”

-”imagine watching your family choose somebody else over you. It's so deeply upsetting but to an understandable level.”

-”I would have hated to turn so young. I look like a teenager and other people can respect that to a certain point. But being five years old with the mind of an adult, No one would respect you.”

-Marko relates to Claudia on an internal level and loves unraveling her character. When you ask why he quickly responds "Some people call me a cherub... You think I enjoy that?"

-David says he doesn't have much to say other than it was a decent read (That's his version of a compliments)

•Twilight

-All of them agree that it's laughably horrendous

-Almost immediately at the same time they say “This is the skin of a killer Bella”

-This leads to banshee like laughter

David speaks up immediately

-”Why do you humans want us to sparkle so bad?”

-”I personally hate the idea of being a walking disco ball, but to each their own.”

-Marko chimes in quickly

-”Would you like it if we sparkled?” He asked while leans on you affectionately

-Marko thinks the only reason to read it is to have a nice laugh

-”Why did Edward have such a violent reaction of Bella standing by a fan? That makes no sense…like I have mates and I enjoy the smell of you guys but…I'm not nearly clawing off my face at your smell”

-”Yeah yeah, I get he's trying not to overreact but running out of class to get away is crazy.”

-Paul even adds that even thought it's very dumb even he can appreciate the message it's trying to said.

-”something something, coming over adversary, something something, love wins, something something..”

-”Also that Jacob imprinting on Bella's infant daughter is super fucking creepy.”

-when you asked Dwayne about his feels he scoffed and said It's insulting at best and borderline sexual harassment at worst.

-He refused to go into depth

•You thank them for humoring you and they tell you that it's no problem

-David kisses the side of your head in an uncharacteristically soft way “We don't ever mind answering your vampire related question.” He tells you

-Marko turns to you “But seriously do you want us to sparkle?”

-”I think I have some roll on body glitter somewhere..” Paul says while getting up to look for it

Thanks for reading <3

[shuaboo]

i usually don’t write on this account but heres some of my little takes on bf!gyuvin 🥹

lowercase intended // cw: fluff, sfw, i think these r called hcs idk, non-idol au so the members are just referred to as his friends, kind of all over the place and unorganized, sorry if this is bad im new to this, shitty writing because i’m seriously not a writer at all. 😭

bf!gyuvin who treats you like a princess and is literally the winner of the kindest cutest boyfriend award every single year 🥹✋🏻

no, seriously. i feel like his language is acts of service and he would absolutely do anything for you if it is in his capabilities.

gyuvin carries a bigger sized bag so you can carry your little purse that barely fits your phone and lip gloss. he also keeps a hair tie on his wrist or has a hair claw on the strap just incase you need one while you’re on a food date together.

when you get tired from walking and your feet start to hurt from your shoes, gyuvin will guide you (maybe even carry you) by the waist so you don’t struggle as much. probably also keeps comfortable shoes for you in his car since he doesn’t expect that this is the last time it will happen.

speaking of shoes, gyuvin is constantly checking your shoelaces. when he sees that they have gone undone he’ll stop you from walking and tie them up for you.

gyuvin who always holds your hand or has a hand on your waist when you’re in a crowded place, because the last thing he’d want is to lose you.

if you and gyuvin do lose each other in a crowded space, he would definitely panic and look around for you. he’d give you a call asking where you are in the most panicked tone. you’d have to calm him down and tell him that you see him, since he’s so tall that he practically towers over everyone else in the area. god bless this man ☹️

whenever you and gyuvin get food, he always asks if you want to try some of what he ordered. he’s such a sweetheart, kindly asking you and then feeding you his food if you agree to try some. i also firmly believe that if the food is still hot, gyuvin will blow on the food so you don’t burn yourself when you take a bite.

gyuvin who always brags about you to his friends. he really can’t help it, he’s so happy to have you that he always yaps about you and your dates to his friends. they tease him simply for being a man in love and beg him to let them meet you :).

when you do meet gyuvin’s friends, it legitimately might be the funniest day of your life, and maybe the worst day for gyuvin. they tell you about some of his embarrassing moments, and you all have a good laugh about it.

…except for gyuvin. he’s beside you 100% pouting and sulking at the reminder of his embarrassing mistakes in the past. oh, plz keep your attention on him as well ! ! ! he might start feeling a bit left out if you have too much fun with his friends. make sure that he’s comfortable and that he’s still smiling. you don’t want to end up with a sulky, jealous, sad boyfriend :’c. give him a peck on the cheek and squeeze his hand so that he smiles again :].

gyuvin who whines about how embarrassing it was that his friends exposed him to you while walking you home hand in hand, and you just laugh at his whining. hes secretly smiling to himself because he made you laugh, even if it kinda cost him his dignity. but hey, at least you’re laughing and you’re happy.

gyuvin who kisses you on the forehead, cheek, and lips and gives you a tight hug when you reach your home before leaving you.

gyuvin who facetimes you as soon as hes a few meters away from your house because he already misses you.

bf!gyuvin who is your constant reminder that pure and true love does exist.

sorry it became kind of a scenario at the end lol, this is also like way too long HAHAHHAHA😅😭

pls lmk if this is ok😭😭 i had a lot of fun writing this and i would love to write more

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 1)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

I stared despairingly at the huge stack of paperwork my line manager had just slapped down on my desk. I sighed and bit the inside of my cheek. None of my male co-workers had to deal with her extra work. This was such bullshit.

"Ah, you are a life saver, (y/n). What would I do without you?"

Her own work, probably, I thought to myself, sighing in exasperation as she left me to my souless cubicle.

By the time i'd finished up, it was getting cold out. After taking a detour to try and stave off the inevitable return to my shitty apartment, I found myself in front of a particularly expensive shop. My feet were aching from the heels my backwards regional manager insisted on the female admin staff wearing and my head hurt from the tight bun my hair was scraped into. His smirk was etched into my brain, as were his vile words on his latest visit.

"You're a very attractive young lady, even with your face like that. Your body makes up for it."

I felt pure rage rising up again at the memory. It was the way he's said it as though he truly believed it was a compliment. The laughter of my coworkers rang in my ears. To them it was all a big joke and I was just too uptight to appreciate it.

What I wouldn't give to see the area manager humbled one day... but that was pure fantasy and I knew it. I wondered what he'd buy with his overinflated christmas bonus this time, while we were all given a meeting to explain why they couldn't justify a minor pay rise to ease the cost of living crisis in Gotham.

The twinkling lights of the high end window displays were a beautiful contrast to the bleary grey outside, and after another hellish day in the purgatory which was the cubicle farm, my heart warmed a little. Everything in the store was definitely well out of my meagre price range, but the inner child in me was drawn in to look at all the pretty evening dresses and jewellery. I shrugged to myself, figuring there's never any harm in window-shopping and a little indulgent fantasy. Even if I could afford any of the opulent dresses, half of them were really ball gowns, and what events was I ever invited to where you'd need a dress like that? No, those sort of parties were for Gotham's social elite - charity fundraisers, galas and that sort of thing, no doubt.

I was half expecting a staff member to immediately spot me in my regular civilian garb and herd me back out of the door like a stray dog but they seemed to be dealing with a particularly difficult customer at the tills. She was waving her arms around and pulling a "do you know who my husband is?".

I stifled a laugh at the image of her, in her ridiculous fur coat shouting frantically and looking like she was about to give herself a anyeurism, if the prominent vein on her forehead was anything to go by. I turned away from her soap operatics and back to the rails of clothes in front of me. I gently touched the fabrics, marvelling at the softness of the richest velvet. Gazing at cool silk like rippling water; nothing like the cheap imitation the rest of us were accustomed to. I got drawn into my own little world imagining who might wear each dress and for what occasion.

"Can I help you with something?"

The voice pulled out the rug on my little escape instantly. I felt anxiety rising in my chest but resolved not to panic completely.

"Oh, I was just browsing..." I said, faking the best dismissive tone I could.

"You're sure, I'd be more than happy to help. Do you want to try anything?" She pressed, a friendly tone rather than the suspicion I had anticipated.

Perhaps my work suit was giving a higher-end impression than I had realised... or maybe she was new here.

"This one is particularly lovely, don't you think?" She gestured to the garment I unknowingly had a hand on, pausing as she'd approached. She wasn't wrong, it was a rich purple, ridiculous really, with layers and layers of tule skirting, but somehow the fine cut and quality of the fabric, and the detailing made it look classy rather than like something out of 'my big fat gypsy wedding'.

When was I ever going to get the chance to try on a literal ball gown? I decided to play into it, after all, I could always say I needed to go away and review my options. They couldn't make me buy it.

"It is lovely," I murmured.

"Do you want to try it on?"

"If it isn't too much trouble..."

Before I knew it, I was being whisked into a dressing room. The shop girl came whirling in with the dress and began unfastening it for me.

"Shoe size?" She asked briskly.

I hurriedly blurted out my answer and she dashed back onto the floor.

I kicked off my uncomfortable work heels and removed my blazer, skirt and scarf. Somehow I felt even more like an imposter standing there in just my undergarments and a pair of tights. I hurriedly pulled the dress up and held it in place. Before I knew it, she'd returned and began fastening me up at the back.

I gasped, both from the air being pushed out of my lungs as she cinched the hidden corsetry, and in awe at what I saw in the mirror. I had never had particularly wonderful self-image, but since the accident, I'd really shrunk into the background. I had always been shy, but i'd become a total wallflower these days. I hated the public-facing parts of my job - if it was telephone or email correspondence, people couldn't react in their myriad shitty ways to my facial scarring, but sometimes I was on front desk duty. Those were the worst days for me.

She made a minor adjustment to my hair, pulling a few strands loose around my face. To my surprise, she hesitated as she saw my scars up close, but didn't recoil, or pull more hair out to try and hide them. Her delicate fingers lingered for a moment, hovering above where my eyebrow was split into three by the forks of red lightning which were still deeply scored into my skin. I had mostly made my peace with it, but it was other peoples' reactions to my face that caused me the most pain. The grimaces, the staring, looking startled, regarding me with pity, strangers asking me what happened, it could all just be too damn much some days. It was a rare and beautiful thing to have someone not react negatively in some way.

I knew I was lucky to still be in the land of the living, and that I was in remarkable shape considering what happened that day, but it had left an inescapable mark. I anxiously ran my fingers over my temple, over the metal plate holding my skull together somewhere beneath the skin. She pulled her own hand back away slowly.

"You look beautiful, miss," she smiled with a genuine warmth that made me begin to believe it. It seemed as though she could sense my sudden swell of insecurity.

The shop girl was young, couldn't be more than sevetneen or eighteen, and I prayed that she somehow retained her gentleness in a city as ugly as Gotham.

"Thank you," I said, tearing up a little.

The dress itself was surprisingly lightweight and not like some kind of Victorian horror complete with a hoop skirt. Instead, it looked quite modern, and had a lot of volume in the skirt due to the layers of tulle fabric, which meant that you could still dance with ease. I did a little twirl for good measure, watching how it flowed and moved around my form. The shop girl smiled at my childlike delight.

Unfortunately, my elation was shattered in an instant. A chorus of screams and panicked shouts, followed by a spray of gunfire hit us like a slap to the face. The shop girl's eyes widened in confusion and panic, and I grasped onto her arm to steady myself. We strained our ears, trying to make out what exactly was happening. My brain was struggling to make the jump from the moment I had just been experiencing to the very real danger we were now thrust into.

After a couple of agonising seconds, there was another round of shots, and I heard a gruff male voice shout;

"Everybody get down!"

"Try to stay calm," I whispered, my own voice shaking.

I herded us into the corner of the booth and desperately gestured for her to undo the corset, not wanting to have to run for my life in the stupid dress. I could hear crashing and footsteps, as though the place was being ransacked and bit the inside of my cheek as the girl shakily tried to loosen the cord for me.

"Check in the back, we don't want anyone calling the cops!" came a voice which sounded unsettlingly close by.

Suddenly, someone burst through the door into the dressing room. We froze, praying whoever it was, wouldn't round the corner, but sadly it was too late. The scraping metallic sound of the curtains of each booth being flung aside echoed around the room. I counted each one, feeling as though my heart had stopped beating altogether, sick with anticipation. They were going left to right, and would reach us soon enough.

The curtain to our booth was torn to the side, and an enormous man stood in the light. The shop girl let out a yelp of terror as she huddled behind me with her head in her hands.

"Found two hideaways!" He yelled out, lurching forward to grab at us.

In a blind panic, my body blocking him from the terrified girl behind me, I kicked and struck out like a feral street cat stuck in a trap. I got a few solid kicks in but was ultimately not match for the man towering over us.

"Quit struggling you stupid bitch," he spat, striking me across the face.

Dazed, and with my eye stinging already, I felt another pair of hands grasp me and haul me out into the open. The barrel of a gun was quickly jammed into the small of my back.

"Stop causing trouble if you want to live," he hissed.

A third figure appeared and roughly forced the girl to her feet as well.

"This one looks so scared she might piss herself," he chuckled.

"Leave her the fuck alone," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Ooo, you got a mouth on you, huh, rich girl?" Said the one holding me at gunpoint.

"Mm the boss ain't gonna like that, maybe we should gag her," one of his companions snorted.

"Nah, leave it. I wanna see what he does if she gives him any back talk," crowed the third one.

They marched us out onto the marble of the shop floor. Both shoes had come off the moment i'd started to struggle against our attackers and the tiling felt cold as ice beneath my unsteady feet. I saw that there were three other men holding up the cashiers and the handful of customers as they huddled together in one corner.

"Look what we found in the back," announced the biggest of the three men, shoving us forward.

It was only then that I noticed everyone's attention seemed to be drawn to one man, a man who I couldn't yet see, on account of him facing away from us as he nonchalantly rifled through the nearest rack of clothing.

He was a fairly tall man, perhaps a little over six feet, wearing a long coat. It was well in need of a wash, covered in dirt and ashy, yet still obviously purple in colour - though perhaps not the vibrant purple it once was. His hair could best be described as messy; a straggly mop of green waves, with his natural brown hair showing through at the roots and in patches. His body language was odd, the way he held himself, with his shoulders hunched, unsettled me.

As he turned around, to see what his henchmen had brought in, I felt a pang of total despair. I recognised his streaky painted face from a recent news broadcast, and I knew instantly that we were in deep trouble. This was the man they called 'the joker'. I could hear the poor shop girl sobbing behind me somewhere, barely hiding her sheer terror.

"Ah more guests for our little party," he exclaimed, his voice and intonation seeming as erratic as his physical movements.

"What you want us to do with them, boss?" Grunted the shorter goon to my left.

"Put them with the others," he gestured, stalking forward.

I turned to watch as he approached the shop girl, my heart in my throat.

"And who do we have here?" He asked, in a tone mimicking gentleness, which was even more unsettling than his usual, more sinister way of talking.

"S-sarah," she choked out between sobs.

"S-sarah? What's wrong s-sarah? Are you s-scared?" He cooed, practically circling her like a big cat.

I felt sick watching him toy with her, and anger began to rise in my chest. Sarah nodded defeatedly.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Oh now why would you think we are gonna do that?" He exclaimed.

She didn't seem to know how to answer.

"Just do everything we ask, and some of you will live," he grinned patting her on the head, "put her with the rest," he gestured dramatically to the others in the corner.

His goons did as he asked and shifted her to where the others were cowering in the corner. I bit my tongue as his attention now shifted to me.

"My my, what a pretty dress, I love the colour," he purred, barely three strides away from me now.

I said nothing, hoping he would somehow just lose interest. There was still the largest goon stood beside me, pistol jammed into my lower spine so I didn't want to antagonise either of them.

He got close enough to reach out and touch me, pulling off one of his leather gloves with his teeth. The red painted smile, already smeared and smudged, left its mark on his finger tips with the clumsiness of his action. I was trying very hard to keep a steady breath, refusing to panic as I knew it would only worsen my situation.

"What's the matter? Are you shy?" He asked, that fake empathetic tone creeping in again.

"No, I just don't find that a hostage situation lends itself to free and easy conversation," I snapped back, unable to suppress my anger fully.

He tilted his head to the side, a glint in his dark brown eyes as they searched my face, scanning, analysing. In defiance, I stared right back.

In my struggle with his henchmen, my face had become half obscured by the hair which had come loose from my bun, and my hands being behind my back, I had not been able to move it out of the way.

Suddenly breaking his stillness, he reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a knife. The switch blade swung open with a characteristic clack. I bit my tongue even harder to try and subdue my panic.

He reached out his ungloved hand to rougly grasp my face. Everything within me was screaming to struggle free, to run for the hills, but I was stuck. I'd be shot down before I made it two steps, I knew that.

"You are beautiful," he mused, " tell me, does this," he moved the knife barely an inch from my face, "does this, scare you?"

I grimaced, unable to stop myself from recoiling at his skin touching my own.

"Do you ever wonder what life is like for the ugly?" He asked, flatly.

Undeterred by my shrinking away from his touch, he roughly used his fingers to comb my fallen hair back away from my face. Once the curtain of hair was lifted, my scars were revealed, and his face took on a curious, unreadable riot of emotion for a split-second.

"What's the matter, am I not as beautiful as you thought?" I muttered sarcastically, wanting to pre-empt his inevitable mockery.

He clearly liked to pick people apart, to try and tap into their biggest fears, so it seemed a sure thing that he would have plenty to say about my face. This only made me all the more dumbfounded when he put away the knife and his grasp on my face melted into something altogether tender.

His fingertips gently brushed over the deep valleys of my old wounds as though he was trying to read my story. I felt him follow the fork from my hairline at my temple all the way down, bridging my eye, down my cheek to the point mid way along the lefthand side of my jaw where it ended. As he did so, I saw for the first time up close his own grisly scars which formed a sort of permanent smile. The makeup he applied over the top made it harder to see from afar just how extensive they were. I knew from my own experience that the wounds had been more than skin deep, into deep muscle tissue. You could tell by how raised and pitted they were.

The man holding me at gunpoint seemed not to have picked up on this sudden change of pace, as he had plenty to say, even if the joker didn't.

"I shoulda warned you, she's a butterface," he chuckled, "you should do the other side to match, I already made a start," he gestured to the split eyebrow and puffy eye he'd given me on my good side.

The joker's body language rapidly changed again. I felt him tense up, even in his fingers against my cheek. It was as though every fibre in his body was taught suddenly, like he was a rubber band about to snap. His eyes seemed to darken, his irises almost like black pools against the black paint encircling them. I was suddenly very afraid.

He looked down at my face with an air of detachement, his tongue flicking against the inner corner of his lip.

"Would you excuse me for a second, doll?" He grinned, before his smile dropped flat again the moment he straightened up to full height.

"Give me the gun," he comanded of his goon.

"But boss..." the burly man protested, before removing it from my back and reluctantly handing it over.

There was a deafening crack and the smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils as my ears rang. Some of the hostages cried out in fear and for a moment I thought he must have shot me. I stumbled on the stupid dress, falling to the floor with a crash, dazed, my ears still ringing as I rolled onto my side, preparing for my seemingly imminent death.

Unexpectedly, my vision began to clear and the ringing dimmed down enough that I could try to collect my thoughts. I became aware of another figure in front of me on the floor. Someone was roughly pulling me upwards, trying to get me back on my feet.

"Up you get!"

Suddenly, I managed to re-engage my muscles enough to stand, swaying on legs that felt like jelly.

"There you go, see? You're fine," came a low voice to my left, practically right into my ear. I blinked hard as I began to make sense of what had just happened.

The joker shifted so that he was stood in front of me again, and gripped a hand under my jaw so that he could look me in the face. He turned my somewhat vacant face this way and that, as though he was checking I was still in there.

"Whoops! Probably should've told you to stick your fingers in your ears," he wheezed with laughter, releasing my face and waving the gun around casually.

My lingering confusion was cleared up when I realised the other figure on the floor was his own man. The others looked on, some unfased, some clearly very uncomfortable at this sudden decision to remove him from the equation entirely. He had shot him point blank, I couldn't bring myself to believe that it was in reaction to his insults. Surely this was just some kind of mind game going far beyond my comprehension... I didn't feel reasurred, I definitely didn't feel flattered, if anything it just showed the true unpredictability of the psychopath in front of me.

"Right, now that minor... detour is over, I want you all to stay calm, while we execute out little plan," he comanded, gesturing to the hostages.

Two of his men forced grenades into peoples shaking hands, pulling the pins so that they were forced to hold on to them, or risk them detonating. They produced a roll of duct tape and wound it around each pair of hands, so there was no chance of them tossing the grenades away from the group either. The others continued to stuff duffle bags full with the cash from the registers, and the jewellery from the display cases. I cursed the slow response time of the GCPD, although there was never a gurantee that their arrival wouldn't cause more of a bloodbath, since so many of them liked to shoot first and ask questions later. They had far too lenient of a threshold for 'collateral damage'.

I was expecting to be forcibly handed my own grenade, but instead the joker gestured to me. The way in which he waved me over was completely antithetical to the situation unfolding around us; it was so casual, as though we were long-time friends. Not seeing another choice, I gingerly approached him, and he, losing patience, roughly grabbed me by the arm and yanked me closer to him.

"These lovely people can stay here, but, uh, you..." he lingered on the word looking me up and down, as he taped my hands together in front of my body, "you, are coming along for the ride".

"Why?!" Was all I managed to get out as he shoved me roughly toward the front of the store.

He laughed, sending a fresh chill down my spine.

"Well, we have an opening, consider yourself the newest member of our operation," he said in a congratulatory tone.

Before I could respond at all, my head reeling in total panic, I was being tugged out of the door with my arms feeling like they were going to pop out of the sockets.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ scenarios | dating billy

♡ fandoms; The Boys

♡ characters; Billy Butcher

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; explicit sexual content

♡ notes; he’s the bane of my existence + love of my life tbh

reader isss implied to be working with Billy and in my mind a supe but i made it ambiguous since i didn’t write a meeting section :v but i love the idea of Billy falling for a supe so much

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

I. Kisses/ PDA

> he doesn’t like PDA…or at least that’s what he claims

> Frenchie and Marv give him shit- and Hughie is so supportive it makes him angrier than the others giving him shit

> but tbh they’re all happy to see him happy, and he knows that somewhere under that thick skull off his

> so when you give him a kiss or hold his hand or hug him in the base he grumbles, but he never pushes you away or actually complains

> and sometimes he’ll haphazardly pull you against him without saying a word, cheeks a bit pink as he mumbles something into your hair

> usually a ‘good job’ if it fits the occasion, otherwise a comment about how his coworkers are idiots

> now undercover, it’s a different story

> everyone is a potential threat then- and even worse, everyone is potentially going to bother you

> if he even gets a whiff of someone looking you over he’s got an arm around your waist and a hand not so subtly on his holster

> if you want to get any actual surveillance done you have to shoo him away so he doesn’t scare anyone off

> and even then he’s checking in way more often than he needs to

> it’s hard to get mad at, because it’s sweet in his stubborn, assholeish way

> and if you don’t care about surveillance it’s easy to get him riled by playing into it

> and then he’ll kiss you hard right in front of whatever chucklefuck was eying you

> “hope he’s enjoying the bleedin’ view”

> he’s a big cuddler when you’re alone- another thing he’d never admit

> but he loves when you snuggle up with your head on his chest, listening to his heart and nearly dozing while he goes through files

> or when you’re exhausted on the van ride home and make sure no one is paying attention as you hold with his hand in the front seat, rubbing his probably bloodied knuckles and pressing soft kisses them

> he likes your little late night rendezvous the best, though

> you’re both bad at sleeping, so most nights in the base he’ll find you in the kitchen near midnight brewing chai

> you’ll be sitting on the counter in one of his shirts and smile brightly despite the bags under your eyes

> and then when he comes over and puts a hand on either side of you, you trap him in your legs

> the kisses are sometimes heated, sometimes chaste

> but either way you enjoy the tea, and spend the rest of the restless night together

II. Sharing a bed

> when you’re all living in hiding, space is tight under the pawnshop

> you’ve both got shitty little twin beds, and he’s always complaining about space

> but the nights are getting cold and the heater barely works, so you hatch your evil scheme

> evil scheme might get giving it too much credit. like way too much

> all you plan on is asking to snuggle and never leaving his bed

> but he’s taking forever to get whatever he’s doing done, and you’re tired

> no biggie, you’ll just crawl in and wait for him so you can ask

> the next thing you know it’s two a.m. and he’s nudging you

> “oi. who said you could be in here?”

> you whine and give him the biggest pout, eyes all hazy from sleep

> and not wearing all that much either

> he sighs but you can hear the smile in his voice “c’mon then love.”

> before you can scooch over he’s pulling you on top of him completely, making you feel tiny on his broad chest

> he tried not to seem too delighted when you’re there again the next night

III. Let’s get kinky

> listen. i swear i don’t think every character has a daddy kink. just all the ones i’m super attached to

> but he canonically referred to himself as daddy and that’s not leaving my brain anytime soon. so.

> he refers to you as so many sweet nicknames- and he likes to pair them with a healthy mix of degradation and praise

> “you’re a filthy fuckin’ whore aren’t yah sweetheart?”

> his default is rough. he’s a frustrated man, and he’s been pent up for a while now

> but you can take it. probably.

> he likes choking. and spanking, he loves when you’re a brat and he can bend you over his knee

> mostly because then he can finger fuck you right then and there when he’s done and make you a complete mess

> if you wear makeup he thinks it’s twice as nice with your lipstick smudged and mascara running down your cheeks

> and you look prettiest to him on your knees, already a bit teary and sucking on his fingers until you’ve earned the real thing

> he wants to breed you so bad it makes him look stupid. (tbh not literally, even if it is possible, but god the dirty talk is so good that it doesn’t matter)

> his favorite position is reverse cowgirl- he loves seeing you whine and slowly ease yourself onto him

> and to me- he’s an ass man lmao, he loves watching it as you bounce on his cock

[keepswingin]

pairing: chan x reader, minho x reader

genre: dark romance, angst, hurt/comfort, modern au, strangers to lovers

w/c: 4.8k

summary: chan is kind. minho is soft. both of them make you burn from the inside out with every touch. you think you might just burn alive.

warnings: self-destructive behavior, references to alcoholism, mentions of blood, implied cheating (kinda not really?), references to past abusive relationship, implied sexual content, mature scenes, suicide attempt

a/n: i don't really know what else to say besides that i've watched far too many skz edits in far too short of a timeframe. shout out to the discord for helping me scream through this, and to roo for writing the ending for me. anyway. hopefully everyone enjoys the fic!

x

It's fucked up, really, the way in which you float between the webs you've woven with lies and liquor. 

Chan listens to you as though you're a siren calling out to him at sea. You tease him, mold him, and yet he still follows, clings to every word like it could be the last he'll ever hear. He lowers to the carpet as you stare down at him, and you've never felt more in power - 

Minho is soft where you are not, grafted sand against an endless tide. He's careful to bring you back to shore when the waves carry you too far away,  grounding you with a firm grip as he pins your wrists to the headboard. He teases you more than he should, his shirt brushing against your bare chest before pulling away and leaving you breathless. You've never felt more alive, waiting to be told your next move - 

It's fucked up, really, how they've both fallen for you, and you can't decide if any of this is worth it. 

If you can see yourself with either of them long term, linked fingers and silver rings. It's easier to leave it at barely friends, barely anything more than another body in your bed, barely acknowledging them as human beings instead of just silly playthings to use when you have nothing better to do.

It's fucked up, really, just how fucked up you are when it comes to baring your heart on a tattered sleeve. 

x

Chan had cracked a joke the first time you met him, the corner of his lips lifting when he had heard the sound of your laughter. You think it became a mission of his, to hear the sound of your voice, the pitch of your laughter, to get a smile out of you even when you felt as though all you could do was sit and cry. He was kind, and soft, and everything you had never had before. 

It was easy to get lost, when it came to Chan. You enjoyed that feeling, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention. The way he always found a way to touch you even when you were sure he had enough. His hand slipping to your knee and giving a small squeeze. A finger lifting to brush a lonesome curl out of your eyes. An arm around your shoulders, tugging you closer.

Fit, easy on the eyes, easier still to drag him into bed.

It was an easy choice to make, as soon as you realized he wasn't going anywhere. 

x

Minho was quiet when you first met him, hidden away in the corner of a booth. Your friends had dragged you out of the cold comfort of your home, promising fun, and instead left you to fend for yourself at the bar. He caught your eye as you attempted to ignore yet another overly intoxicated frat boy, swirling your straw in your half empty cup, your stomach tossing in a way you were all too familiar with. 

There was an unwelcome grip of your arm then, cold fingers curling around your wrist, and you turned your head, ready to spit something you wouldn't want your mother to hear to someone who should've stayed at their shitty college, but Minho was already ahead of you, pulling the boy away from you and sending him stumbling with a glare that silenced any further resistance. 

When Minho had turned back to look at you, gaze softening, you forgot about everything else. 

Minho was hard lines hiding behind a lithe body, a sharp mouth behind soft words. He picked silence more than anything else, sat with you when you didn't want to be around anyone else, understood you better than you would ever like to admit. His shoulder pressed against yours like second nature, his hands slipping around your waist. His fingers brushing against the pulse point of your wrist. 

Minho was complicated, but you weren't one to stray away from a challenge. 

It was nice to have someone to challenge you, and nicer still when you won, the bed dipping under your back. 

It was easy to accept him, once you realized you had him.

x

He drops you on the bed and climbs on top of you before you can recover, lips already chasing your own. Your breath hitches and your back arches, and he slows only when you make another sound that worries him, eyebrows pulling.

You feel like he can see right through you, the longer he looks at you. You're quick to divert him, one of your hands slipping to the hem of his shirt. Chan's fingers follow yours, pressing against your palm. You lean up and catch his lips, stealing his next breath, and it's the best thing you've ever tasted. 

x

His lips burn against your skin, a raging fire you'll never mind as his hands slip down the curves of your sides, dipping lower. He pinches your bottom lip between his teeth, and you follow blindly, chasing that high like it'll save you from yourself. 

The carpet is soft under your feet. Your heart is hammering with everything you've kept locked inside. 

Minho pulls back, forehead pressed against your own. He smiles, a soft secret, and you feel a need to take that from him next, kissing him again and again.

x

It's routine now. 

A slide of the phone screen, a vague voicemail left in a filling mailbox. Text messages sent between breakdowns and cloud nines, the bitter taste of alcohol sliding down a sore throat. You don't remember everything, can barely differentiate between one or the other, your living room, Chan's crappy bed and Minho's equally crappy couch. You're not quite sure if any of this is healthy, or if you're simply burying yourself deep in a hole you hope no one will ever find you in. 

You hope they don't notice, hope they don't pull back the curtain and see all the skeletons you've hidden. 

You know it's a lost hope, when you know they care far more than they should; and that's the worst part, isn't it? How much they care, how much they keep themselves in the moment, how much they don't slip where you already have. Chan holds you like you're barely held together, chipped china stashed away in a cabinet. Minho touches you like you're a fire in need of kindling in the middle of a harsh winter, one breath from going out. 

It's too much. 

(It's not enough.) 

x

Minho presses against you, breath tickling your ear. He holds you close, kisses you like something he can't get enough of. It grounds you, reminds you of where you are and where you probably shouldn't be. You're pathetically sober, and you don't know how to feel about it, when the room is warm and your body is burning up against his. 

He shifts and presses a kiss to your shoulder, following the curve of your bone, trailing down, down, down - 

A gasp escapes you, and you can feel his smirk. 

This is different, you think, as he pushes you until your back hits the headboard, rattling the very frame. As he begins to unravel you from the inside out, and lay you bare in a way that you've never been before. This is different from the way anyone else has held you, different in the way he pins you down. 

It's something you need, something that Chan doesn't give you. Something that keeps you here, enthralled, a willing participant in a series of flings that has spiraled out of control. You don't miss being in control here, when Minho holds you tight enough to hurt and bites down hard on your skin. 

You're safe here, in a way you've never been. You think that's maybe why you keep coming back. 

x

Chan pulls off his shirt before you even have to tell him to, a quick learner. He follows after you like you're the only thing he's ever truly seen, and his eyes are alight as you reach for him, fingers slipping around his wrist. His lips are soft against your chapped ones, and he kisses the same as he acts, careful not to push against any of the walls that stand between you. It's exciting almost, the way he hesitates, the way you can feel how he wants more but holds himself back, waiting for your permission.

He was always eager, and you were the one to teach him patience. 

You pull back as soon as he starts to lose himself, locking eyes. 

He watches you for a long moment, and then allows himself to be pushed, your hand slipping from around his shoulder down to the center of his chest. The back of his knees tumble against the side of the bed before the rest of him follows, and it's the way he looks up at you, the way he trusts you, the way your heart thumps painfully against the rest of your ribcage with an emotion you know all too well, that pushes you forward, desperate to forget. Desperate to be in control of something, of someone, because your life has been anything but. 

Chan lets you command him like you're the very religion he follows, and it's something you've never experienced with Minho. It's something that you haven't found anywhere else, something that anchors you to the ground below and the sky above. 

You climb on top of Chan and dig your nails into his skin. His eyes follow you, his mouth opens, a beautiful sound nearly splits from his throat, and you swallow it whole. 

x

It's a dangerous game you're playing.

You know it is, even before your friends tell you, whispering amongst each other because your best friend never holds the secrets she's meant to keep. You wonder if it's disgust that paints their faces when they realize just what you're doing, fucking two different guys at your leisure just because you're lonely and far too fucked up to get proper help. A therapist would probably tell you you're no less than an alcoholic too, liquor lining your kitchen cabinets and empty bottles stacked upon your desk. 

You've stopped letting them over your place. Not after Chan had taken a look around and had started cleaning without a word, offering suggestions for dinner as he did so, like it was something normal, something that he would do a million times over just for your sake. Not after Minho had tugged a full bottle from your clumsy hands and kissed you instead, hoping you wouldn't see him tucking it away under the coffee table. 

You know they know what you're doing - the distance you're putting between them, the line you're attempting to draw in the sand with no less than a prayer. It's the way Chan reaches for you, curls around you like he never wants to let go. It's the way Minho holds you, like he wouldn't mind doing so for the rest of time. 

It's a dangerous game you're playing. 

You wonder when you'll run out of lives to ruin. 

x

You know Chan knows something from the moment he lets you into his apartment, the room beyond bathed in a soft yellow glow. He gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he shuffles out of the way, and you feel an itch under your skin as you make your way in and toss your sweater onto the nearest cushion. 

You turn around to meet him, one hand reaching out, and Chan catches it, fingers intertwining with yours. He looks unsure as he carefully lowers your hand, mouth twisted, hair messy and sweatshirt sloppily pulled over his clothes, like he had hurried to throw something on, had hurried to protect himself in layers against something, or someone. 

Your stomach twists. Your heart beats faster. Something inside of you wonders if this is a trap, specifically crafted to keep you locked inside. Chan sighs and gently leads you over to the couch, pulling you down beside him, careful to leave space between your bodies. The action makes you feel worse. He had always pulled you closer, and now here he was, trying his best to keep you at a distance. 

He finally lets go of your hand. Stares at the vacuumed carpet like it holds all the answers he's seeking. 

"Y/N," he starts, careful, quiet, raw. Far too vulnerable for any other conversation, besides one that would lead to the demise of this, of everything you were sure was never going to last. "Do you love me?" 

Your heart stops beating for a moment, and you think that this is it. You're going to have to answer, and you're going to lose someone who's kept you from the teetering edge, just like you lost everyone else.

He exhales and it's a ragged sound, wrought with emotions you've watched him hide. "I can't keep doing this," he whispers, hands twisting together from where he holds them in his lap. "If what we have isn't real, then I..." he pauses, and the silence of the room around you nearly deafens you, "I can't keep doing this with you." He lifts his head, and meets your eyes, braver than you are, braver than most. "I love you, Y/N. I love you, and if that isn't enough for you, then I think we both need to stop doing whatever it is that we're doing." 

A million words press at your throat. You find that they're all stuck together, and you can't find any to speak. Chan watches you like he's waiting for you to say something, anything, and when you don't, he deflates, shoulders hunching as he curls his body further away from you. 

A soft, defeated laugh escapes him as he looks down at his hands. 

"I saw you the other week, Y/N, hanging off someone I didn't know like he meant...the world to you." He shakes his head and stands, and you think you see a tear slip from the corner of his eye. "I thought what we had meant more." Caring, he was always caring, caring to a fault, caring to the end. Caring now, as he turns away so that you can't see any more tears fall. "Go," he says softly, so that it doesn't hurt as much as it should. "This isn't healthy for either of us. Not like this. So you should go." 

When you don't move, he sighs, shoulders stiff. He doesn't turn back around. "Please," he whispers. "Go." 

You lift yourself up on shaking legs and turn towards the door. 

You hear the lock slide across after you walk out, and for some reason, that hurts more than anything else. 

x

You don't know what to do with yourself. You don't know where to go. 

There's a small, terrified part of you that wants to text Minho before you lose that too, but then you figure that if Chan finally figured it out, Minho probably knew for a while and chose not to say anything. If you really think about it, deep down, the last time you had seen him, he had looked at you like he was really seeing you for the first time. His gaze had lingered a moment too long, and he was quick to leave you on the bed, breathing heavily and hopeless, door to the bathroom clicking softly behind him. Maybe Minho knew the truth before you knew yourself. 

It was easier to keep your hands clean, if you wiped away all the dirt before it could find a place under your fingernails. 

The cold of the evening air bites at you, and a shiver slips down your spine. Home feels too far, and any other place that used to be safe was far from being so anymore. 

The sky is darkened already, clouds covering the few stars left. The sidewalk you follow is jagged with runaway roots, and your chest hurts. Your body aches to be held, to be hurt, to feel something, and your stomach swirls with a sickness you don't have a cure to. You push yourself along out of instinct more than anything else, and think back to where it all had gone wrong. 

It was wrong from the moment you found the both of them, one after another. It was wrong as soon as you decided you could be selfish and want both. It was wrong when you would kiss one and hold another down until they stopped breathing, and then started all over again. It was wrong that you would allow one to do what they wanted with you and bruise your skin, while the other held you until you fell asleep. 

It was wrong to want so much, when you deserved none of it. 

The wind blows again, whispers against your skin. You wonder if you'll make it somewhere. 

x

The bar is ugly and noisy and exactly where you belong. 

You ignore the first man that picks you out of the crowd, staggering and stupid. You flirt with the second until your mind is hazy once again, pushing him away and finding your way to another bottle. The world around you blurs as you move, and this is everything you wanted, for your mind to float along with the rest of you, but it's not enough, and liquor alone is never enough. 

You push your way to the bathroom, and for some reason, hesitate at the door, fingers slipping from the handle. Your breaths are shallow, and your phone is silent because everyone has left you. But was it their fault? When you were the one playing with them like they weren't just as real as you? 

Something unfurls in your chest, and you nearly break in two as a horrible sob escapes you, ripping from deep within you. 

Fingers curl around your shoulder, a soft voice barely reaching you. You think of Chan, you think of Minho, and you think of what could have been. You shove them back, back, back away from you, away from the monster inside of you that's condemned everything and decide to disappear once and for all. 

x

It makes sense, doesn't it? 

You can't hurt anyone else if you remove yourself from the picture, if the picture never included you at all. You can cut yourself out of their lives, and just be a memory they will be sure to forget as time goes on. 

Chan's sentimental; he'll think of you during the quiet dinners where someone else doesn't fill the silence, and he'll remember you in the traces of other people's laughter, always searching for that same sound. But he'll move on, and there will be people there to support him. He was only ever alone when it came to you, and you're thankful for that in a way, because at least there would be someone there with him, sure to fill the room with sound. 

Minho worries you more. You've only ever heard him speak to his parents, to his family's cats like they were people right beside him. Every choice he makes is calculated, exact, something he wants. You knew he wanted you as soon as his eyes met yours, and yet he was patient, and waited for the moment when you made the first move. The boundaries were firm, and he didn't have much to hide once you broke them down and left nothing in your wake. 

You wondered sometimes if you were one of the only constants in his life, and you can't help but hope that it's not true, that he won't hold your picture close after you're gone. 

x

Your home is stale and alien when you walk in, darkness shrouding you like you deserve to live within it. 

You've avoided the truth long enough, avoided coming back for as long as you could stay elsewhere. But you lost Chan, and you lost Minho, and your few friends had stopped picking up your calls. They all knew what you were now, the true you that you've been desperately trying to hide. 

The floor creaks beneath your feet as you flick on the lamp by the door and then slowly make your way over to the kitchen, eyes flickering across the various items strewn across the counters. Old takeout boxes, dirty cutlery. Dishes stacked in the sink with nowhere else to go. The blinds above the counter are barely hanging on, dust sticking to the corners. Some knifes sit scattered in front of their knife block. You don't know the last time you've eaten. The remnants of alcohol burn at your belly. 

Ever so gently you reach forward and pick up what you need before retreating back to the living room, stopping just in front of the couch. You can't remember the last time someone sat next to you here. You can't remember your home ever having anything other than silence. 

Chan had brought honesty. Minho had brought certainty. 

And you never returned home. 

x

But you're home now, and there's something heavy in your hand even though it should be light. 

You don't know how long it's been that you've been here, the night dragging on around you. Moths flicker around the light that clings to the shingles next to your front door. You watch them and wonder if they ever think about how fast they can fade into nothing, crumbling to dust between someone's fingers. You blink and think about how fast you had done the same to someone who had loved you.

He was from before. Before Chan. Before Minho. 

He was your entire life and then some, someone you believed to be your soulmate. Someone who you had thought truly loved you, no matter what he did to you. Everything he ever did was out of love, he would say, over and over again, roses sitting on the front step, candles lit down the hallway, designer clothes tucked in neat little gift boxes. You needed to listen to him, he would say, smiling down at you like his words didn't twist around inside of you; like his grip didn't bruise and his words didn't scream.  

He loved you. You thought you loved him. 

He loved you and you realized you were never going to love him. 

Not a normal love, anyway. Not a love that wasn't twisted by all the things he had done. 

Laughter bubbles from within you then, as you finally think back to the one thing you had been trying to forget all this time. It had taken so long, but he finally had the same bruises, the same screams. The same pain. 

It was the only thing you could do. To save yourself, you had reasoned, until there was nothing else to reason. Until the liquor had burned you from the inside out, and you started to self destruct. 

You're almost ready to explode, you suppose. 

x

The knife is cold against your throat. 

You should be trembling, you should be sick. You should be scared, and yet you're strangely calm and somehow ready for this. Have you always been ready for this and just never realized? Were you too afraid to ever realize? Or maybe you were just trying to find other ways to keep yourself from confronting the truth, hiding your lies between different places, different people, different beds. 

You don't know if you should close your eyes or keep them open. Did it matter? Did it matter when whoever came across your body would simply check for a pulse and then move onto the next? None of it matters in the end you decide as you move to press the blade harder against your skin - 

Tires on pavement, screeching as they rumble to a stop, the sound echoing through your silent apartment. Red and blue lights flashing against the flaking paint of the wall, illuminating your front door. Screaming sirens that make you flinch, eyes sliding to the door.

There's two loud bangs and the clear sound of voices, the cusp of an officer's cap peering through as they lower their fist. Flashlights shine inwards when there's no response, before they land on you and then there's a canopy of noise, of shouting and curses. You watch as different officers flicker in and out of the door's window, and brace yourself, knowing that your time is up. It's now or never. This should be the easiest decision of your life, and yet, for a moment, you hesitate. 

You hesitate and think of those you've condemned. 

You think about the blood on your hands, the sharp curve of Minho's jaw, the way your fingers glided across Chan's shoulders. The smile that would curl at your lips when your phone pinged with a new message, the way your heart would stitch itself back together whenever they reached out to you of their own accord, wanting to be with you, needing you, unafraid to show just how much they missed you. 

A tear slips down your cheek. God, maybe you're just pathetic and indecisive and looking for an excuse, a reason why you've done all of this. Enough with the pretend fantasies and trying to find yourself a pretty picture to hide in - 

"Y/N!" 

The sound of your name startles you, knife pinching against skin. Lights are still flashing, illuminating the room, but there's a new face at the door, an urgency behind the way he pulls at the door, rattling the very hinges. Something wild and worried and stricken in the curves of his face, in the way he shouts for you, again and again. His voice cracks, his volume wavers. You watch the way his eyes flicker between your face and the knife, and it makes you feel something you aren't sure how to name. 

It was just like him, really. To want to save you in the end the same way he had saved you in the beginning. 

The door rattles again, and you watch as he's shoved from the way, the police eager to get this over with. They were probably just as sick as you were with waiting, and would rather have a name to the crime than a cold body to a morgue. But you'd rather take control of your own life, just this once. 

Minho pushes his way back to the door, desperate, fighting to the very end. Another push from the police, the sharp sound of snapping wood. Maybe Minho knew in the end, just how fucked up you really were. Maybe he knew, and maybe he wanted to stay anyway. 

It was nice, to think someone cared about you, that they wouldn't give up on you even if you would never deserve it. Even if you were a curse on him, whether you lived or died; he wasn't meant to know what you had done. He wasn't meant to be here to cry while you made it even. 

Your grip on the knife weakens, but it won't let go. Even in death, there was no easy way out; there is Minho at the door, and there are the lights of your destiny coming to get you, and here in your hand is the blade that would cut him just as deeply as it would cut you, because even when you ran away from yourself, you still couldn't help but hurt everyone you touched. 

Even when you did, you still made them bleed.

The lights flash, the voices shout. The knife bites at your throat, cold and sharp and unreasonable in its judgement. Your eyes close. Your breath floats out into the still air of the room. 

Somewhere in that space, his ghost leans down to whisper in your ear, all the secrets of death and life and what he would have done to you if only you'd not killed him first. The truth of it burns at your nose and chokes itself in your throat, swallowing down into your stomach like a stone you cannot dislodge. Beneath you, your feet falter, depositing you on the old sofa he would only let you use if it was to pin you to it. 

In the lights and the sound and the rasp of Minho's cries, you don't notice the slip of the knife from your hand. Only the stain of blood in the carpet, and the memory of bruises on your skin, and the truth that finally sobs its way out of your mouth with the tears that track down your cheeks, washing away the wall of lies that you had built up to hold them in.

When hands find you, arms dragging you in close and lips pressed hard to your forehead, you don't kick and scream, or reach for the knife, or yearn for a drink to wash away the memories.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt and scratch at his skin, searching selfishly for something to hold onto. Words press against your throat and you struggle to let them out even as you feel his body hitch with something close to a sob. 

"Stay with me,” you say.

"Okay," Minho breathes, lips pressing softly against the skin you nearly cut away. "Okay." 

[stormxpadme]

There's a bit of fanfiction negativity in the tags :(. Looking for something to cheer me up, what's your personal scogan fanfic favorites?

Yeah, I saw that, both in the scogan and scogean tag, with posts even including the character name tags. Like. Not cool, people. Way to make authors feel shitty who have been guarding the ship lighthouse for the last 20 years. Claiming in the most popular tags, there's only like 1 good fic among more than 1500? Wow, okay. So I was very happy to receive your ask. Let's counter that negativity with some awesome scogan reads!

Damaged by scottxlogan

Can't do any scogan rec list without including the leading authority on the subject. @scottxlogan is the author who pulled me into this ship years ago, not to mention they're a great friend, unbelievably talented writer and artist, and they deserve all the love. Damaged is surely one of their most ambitious projects and deserves every single view, kudos and review out there. Set in the DOFP finale verse that is no doubt the author's specialty, the story comes with an alluring, intricated plot that leaves you on the edge of your seat along with all the feels.

Submission by scottxlogan

I'm also including a newer work by the same author in case you just want to get a feel for how wonderfully she writes these guys, not to mention the shameless steamy goodness that are the author's smut scenes. scottxlogan is an expert at reversing common fandom tropes believably, and this will leave you longing for more of these power exchanges easily.

he carries the reminders by Wolfsheart

@mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea is another great friend and author I would trust even with my biggest squicks (not that she writes those anyway :D). She's not only technically brillant and very well-versed in the lore which makes every pairing she writes a great read (check out her Tony/Emma, too!), but she'll also never fail to make you laugh or put those hearts in your eyes. And don't miss all those pop culture references that even put Peter Parker to shame! She also gives us scogan fans exactly what we need with stories like this one, combining our fav hurt/comfort tropes with a healthy dose of canon fix it.

I loved you since I knew you by strangenewwords

@strangenewwords is a fairly new and dearly beloved addition to our group at @scoganbingo events, but she's already made a huge impact with her delicious smut and angst stories that hit you right in the feels. Technically also brillant, the linked story is definitely one you don't want to get spoilered for beforehand because the ending will leave you in absolute awe and tears. The author doesn't shy away from including the darkest sides of Scott's past but handles every subject with the necessary care and respect, and as I said ... You don't want to miss out on all that delicious smut!

The Day Before the Soldiers Came by Cerylid

Cery is offering a much-needed fixit for the team dynamics between the X-Men and Logan before X2 with this story. It comes with a lot of humor but also far more feels than you expect. The texting is hilarious but it's the quiet tones that get to you.

*****

Speaking of fix-its, since that negativity in the tags kinda got to me, too, I might just throw in one of my own works here too since I also got lots of Scogan stuff out there.

My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold

is basically my go-to X3 fix-it. You look for something to make that movie right, you got it all right there. Along with a bit of horror (we are talking about resurrection, after all) comes a dramatic rescue mission in a mental limbo, and you get an Avenger and Emma Frost guest-starring. There's a couple of follow up chapters that explore both scogan and Tony/Emma a bit further, and we even get a Laura version in old movieverse along the line, and of course all the nasty nasty smut you guys are here for.

########

So, that's it from the top of my hat. All these accounts have even more great stories to check out, and there's lots of other scogan authors out there with great stories to enjoy. So don't let anyone tell you, there's no quality scogan stuff on AO3.

[junabuggy]

can i sweetly ask for husk x reader angst,,, where the reader has been on work mode as of late thus having them a silly lil arguement (i love tormenring myself 😝) until they decide to make it up/explain why they were so busy later on 👉👈 (maybe a lil makeout session too in the end if you will) :333 tyy!

Overworked! GN! reader x Husker

A/n: You’re so real for this tbh, this was actually pretty fun to write !! My favourite little alcoholic grumpy cat fr ദ്ദി(ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Warnings: mild angst, argument, light talk of alcohol/alcoholism, light makeout near end

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst✔️ Smut❌

You arrived back home to the hotel later than usual, you weren’t quite sure when you started to refer to this place as your home but it felt right to do so.

As soon as you walked through the doors you were greeted with a glance and a raised eyebrow from Husk, your boyfriend, as he cleaned and polished some glasses behind the bar. Most likely shutting everything down for the night.

You sigh, slumping down on one of the barstools as you waited for him to finish up what he was doing.

“You look like shit.” Husk observed, setting a now clean and sparkling glass down as he moved on to polishing up the next one.

“Yeah, thanks. That makes me feel so much better knowing my boyfriend thinks I look like shit.” You grumbled back, still quite irritated from the day you had. Your boss was constantly on your ass and making unsolicited remarks about basically everything you did or didn’t do, so coming home and having Husker do the same thing wasn’t exactly helping the situation.

He was a little taken back by your tone, usually you weren’t so sarcastic with him. You saw him pause (hehe paws) what he was doing for a few moments before resuming, trying to remain unfazed.

“All I’m saying is it looks like you had a shitty day..” He mumbled

You rolled your eyes in response, not bothering to say anything else because you knew whatever came out of your mouth next probably wouldn’t be so kind.

But, Husk continued...

“It also feels like I haven’t really been able to just hang out with you in a while.” He commented making you look up from the bar countertop and to his gaze that was already on yours with a glare.

“Well maybe if you wanted to see more of me, you wouldn’t be getting drunk everytime I’m finally off work” you said, your tone snippy which drew a frown out of Husk.

“So now this is my fault?” Husk asked, being slightly sarcastic when he spoke

“Are you implying it’s mine?” You asked back incredulously, the sarcasm seemed to have set you off more which in turn, was making Husks temper flare up as well.

“I never said it was, you’re just being snippy.” He called out as he narrowed his eyes at you. Of course you knew you were being snippy, you couldn’t help it and now you’ve dug yourself into a bit of a hole here.. you and Husker were both very stubborn demons..

“Y’know what? fuck you.” You said without thinking, sliding yourself off the barstool to come around the bar. Wanting to face him properly as you two continued on with your petty argument.

You glared up at him and he glared back for a few seconds before suddenly sweeping you up off your feet and placing you down on the bar countertop and before you could even say any word of protest, his lips smashed against yours with his ears pinned back against his head

Your eyes widened in surprised for a few beats before letting them fall shut, kissing him back and essentially taking all of your anger out in said kiss, arms wrapped around his neck with his wrapped around your waist in turn.

It quickly turned into a makeout session, an angry makeout session would be a better word for it.

Your hand found the fur on the top of his head and gently tugged on it as your tongues pressed up against eachother, causing him to grunt in response

You were both panting when he broke the kiss off, you had both tired yourselves out as he leaned down to press a few kisses to your neck, making you whimper in response. Husk smirked at that.

Once he was done peppering kisses to your neck and collarbone he pulled back, hands still resting on your waist as he did so.

You sigh, meeting his gaze and smile meekly, feeling guilty for your previous actions and words. “I’m… sorry for all that. I’ve just been super stressed and busy with work lately and I shouldn’t be pining all the blame on you.” You apologized genuinely.

He nodded “it’s alright.. I’m also sorry. I’ll work on prioritizing you more. I missed you” he apologized as well, returning your smile.

“I missed you too.” You wrapped your arms around him in a hug, he chuckled and hugged you back, squeezing you when you squeezed him. You couldn’t help but notice the fact that he was purring slightly… clearly you were both content with how this little argument of yours had ended.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲