#acoustic banners

[noiseproblemsonline]

The advantages of using PET acoustic panels

PET acoustic panels are an acoustic installation type that uses Polyethylene Terephthalate (PET) as the substrate. The panels are manufactured in different sizes and shapes and ca seal away rooms, enclose areas within walls, or lessen sound transmission through walls and ceilings.

How to install PET acoustic panels

The advantages of using these panels to enhance sound quality in your home are apparent. By replacing less effective materials with top quality noise control ceiling tiles, you can substantially enhance your home acoustics.

While installing a pet acoustic panel, it is vital to consider the layout and dimensions of your home. You also have to consider the type of sound and insulation used and the way the pet acoustic panel will be installed.

Advantages of using acoustic banners and pet acoustic panels

You will possibly consider O’Neill Engineered Systems acoustic banners and pet acoustic panels while looking for acoustic panels to lessen noise and enhance sound quality. These are made of material known as Polyethylene Terephthalate (PET), which is a plastic type that is frequently used in the manufacturing of containers and bottles.

One of the main advantages of using PET acoustic panels is that they can assist to lessen noise levels in an area as the panels absorb sound waves, lessening the amount of noise emitted from the area. Moreover, PET acoustic panels can enhance sound quality by lessening distortion and bettering clarity. This implies that viewers can hear sounds more clearly and without any kind of interference.

Other uses of acoustic wood and PET acoustic panels

There are various other reasons to use acoustic wood and these panels apart from soundproofing. For instance, O’Neill Engineered Systems acoustic panels can be used as dividers or to create privacy within a room. They also make excellent table cloths, accent pieces and wall hangings.

[taylorliveperformances]

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Taylor Swift performing the Star-Spangled Banner at Phoenix International Raceway. November 12, 2006.

[hairmetal666]

By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.

She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.

"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.

"Steve Harrington."

"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"

"Oh, er--just me, actually."

Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"

Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."

So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.

Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.

"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"

Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"

Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

"Little bit," Steve smiles.

"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.

"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."

"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.

After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.

---

Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.

He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"You alright, man?" Steve asks.

Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."

His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."

He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"

He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.

"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.

Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.

---

It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.

He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.

Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.

He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.

Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.

"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.

"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.

"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."

Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.

He is so weird.

---

In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.

Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.

Flirting with her is easy.

He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.

It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"

Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.

It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.

"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.

He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.

Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.

---

They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.

They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.

Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.

Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.

A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.

Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.

Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.

He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.

He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.

---

When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Have you seen my notebook?"

"What?" Steve's heart drops.

"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"

"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.

"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.

Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.

"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.

They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.

"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.

Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."

"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.

The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.

Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.

"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.

"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie forgets it’s Valentine’s Day until the literal moment he pulls into the parking lot outside of Steve’s job to pick him up after his shift. The big banner in the window offering their February 14th special offers nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

It was too late now to flip it into reverse and speed to the nearest garage and buy the first box of candy he could find; Steve had spotted him through the window and was already waving at him. Eddie usually arrived a few minutes early but he got caught up staring through the window at the music store downtown. There was an acoustic guitar he was saving up for on display. It would take him almost a year to get there on his current budget, but he was determined. Now that Eddie thought about it, there was definitely some pink ribbon hanging in that window today. He cursed himself again, realising he must’ve seen a million other literal red flags throughout the day that he’d ignored.

“Think, Munson, think….” Eddie grumbled to himself, wringing his hands around the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Steve was walking towards the van now, and the small red gift bag in his hand killed any hope Eddie might have had that he’d forgotten too.

“Happy Valentine’s, Eds,” said Steve brightly as he hopped into the passenger seat, handing over the bag.

Eddie looked into it and found an assortment of a few of his favourite things. A heavy metal magazine, red twizzlers, a pack of smokes, even some new guitar strings. Ah shit, this was perfect. Eddie felt like hell.

“You don’t have the right guitar for those yet though,” Steve pointed out and sure enough, on closer inspection they were nylon acoustic strings and not the steel kind Eddie used for his electric guitar.

“That’s ok it’s not- Wait, yet?” asked Eddie.

Steve looked giddy as he handed over a piece of paper. It was a receipt of sale and Eddie gawped at it in silence for almost a full five minutes. Steve bought him the guitar he’s been staring at in the window. The note on the bottom said he could pick it up tomorrow.

“This is for-”

“Sure is”

“-that I’ve wanted for months-”

“Sure have”

“-is this for real?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yes Eddie it’s for real,” said Steve with a sigh. “You’ve been talking about that thing in your sleep, figured this might make you shut up about it,”

“I will never shut up about this,” said Eddie, still staring at the receipt.

Another moment passed and Steve very politely and gently cleared his throat. Eddie snapped back to reality. Steve’s eyes went wide as Eddie kicked into action. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders and threw it at him. He reached down and tugged his shoes off, threw them at Steve too. All the rings on his hands came next, then his belt, and the keys for the van hit Steve squarely in the chest with a light thud.

“Take it,” he mumbled, adding his socks to the growing pile on Steve’s lap. “All of it,”

Steve let out a confused laugh.

“Eddie what the hell are you doing?” he asked, incredulous.

“You can have the trailer too,” said Eddie, fishing candy wrappers from his pockets and deciding if they were Steve worthy. “Wayne will understand,”

Steve laughed properly now.

“What are you talking about, baby?”

“This!” shrieked Eddie, now halfway out of his t-shirt, waving around the receipt for the guitar. “I can’t compete with this! I can’t give you anything like this, so just-” Eddie’s voice got muffled as his shirt got stuck over his head. “-take everything,”

He flung the piece of clothing and Steve’s head and started to unzip his jeans.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” said Steve, shaking with laughter now as he grabbed Eddie’s wrist. “Put your clothes back on, this isn’t a competition,”

“You’re only saying that because you won,” said Eddie with narrowed eyes.

Steve began to hand Eddie back all the things that had been hurled at him over the last frantic few minutes.

“I don’t need anything from you,” said Steve softly. “Especially not week-old candy wrappers,”

Eddie snatched back his socks.

“I don’t….” He said, embarrassed. “I don’t have anything though…”

Steve chuckled.

“So you can buy me dinner instead,” he told Eddie, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. “Now hurry up and take the rest of your shit back so you can bring me home,”

Eddie nodded solemnly and took each item back as it was given to him. He slipped his t shirt back over his head and when he looked at Steve for the last of his rings, he was holding Eddie’s favourite skull ring between his fingers. It was the only one that was big enough to fit Steve. A plan formed quickly, so organically that Eddie was shocked it hadn’t occurred to him before right now. It…was perfect honestly. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it before, it just never felt like a good time and… Oh yeah, this was definitely the excuse he needed to just do it

“How ‘bout you keep that one, at least?” suggested Eddie. “Make me feel like I’m not a total failure today,”

“You’re not a failure,” said Steve, rolling his eyes again. “But fine, yes, I’m keeping this one,”

Eddie smiled and held out his hand to take one of Steve’s.

“Well then allow me,” he said, taking the ring. Steve offered up his right hand, and Eddie promptly swatted it away. “Other one,”

Steve’s eyebrow raised higher as he hesitantly gave Eddie his left hand.

“Seriously?” asked Steve, suspicious and amused.

“Unless you’d prefer the right hand?”

“No, no, left works,” said Steve quickly, taking his hand back to wipe off any sweat onto his jeans.

Steve shook out his hand and quickly smoothed down his hair. He plucked a stray starburst wrapper from his shoulder and flicked it to the ground. He settled himself comfortably facing Eddie and placed his left hand in Eddie’s waiting palm.

Eddie slotted the ring onto Steve’s third finger and gave it a little pat once it rested snugly against his knuckle, before bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. A tiny squeak escaped Steve’s mouth.

“How’s that?” asked Eddie with a smile.

“Just what I wanted,” said Steve, looking like he was on cloud nine, and leaning over to kiss him.

[peachsukii]

𝓲𝓷𝓴 & 𝓻𝓱𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓶 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 『 band au | strangers to lovers | slow burn 』

pairing // artist!reader x drummer!bakugo status // in progress rating // explicit (18+ themes) #✩.ink&rhythm + crossposted to AO3

✩ summary // Distortion is the hottest band in town, making waves in the underground scene with their unique sound. Led by your college best friend and music prodigy, Kyoka Jiro, alongside her misfit group of friends, they've been playing shows every weekend for the last few months and have gathered a decent following. You're whisked into the whirlwind of their rockstar lives when Jiro commissions you to design a band logo for their merch, reconnecting with her and meeting the members of the band. Your eyes immediately gravitate to their powerful drummer, Katsuki Bakugo. Fresh out of a nasty three year on/off relationship, he's not looking for anything or anyone while shutting out the world around him. He's focused on the one thing that keeps him sane; music. You're six months free of a breakup as well, looking to repaint your world with new colors and experiences, but turns out it's more tumultuous than anticipated. Explosive fights, newfound fame, clashing egos, dive bars, stolen kisses, black out dreams, messy exes and hard lessons; but somehow, love finds a way to bloom like a flower in the desert - deep in the hottest, driest wasteland of two broken hearts.

✩ tags & warnings // rock/punk/alt band au, slow burn, meet cute, strangers to lovers, various smut, smoking/drugs/alcohol consumption, talks of emotional & physical abuse from past partners, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, mild violence, mentions of cheating from past partners, miscommunications, jealousy, long distance, stalking, attempted sexual assault (not from bakugo or the bakusquad!), bakugo & reader suffer from relationship traumas (Camie & dabi are nasty exes), bakusquad are in a band, friend breakups & makeups

꒰ track list ꒱ ✩ Prelude: Holding onto Hope is a Different Kind of Pain ✩ Track One: Shine a Light into the Wreckage ✩ Track Two: Flowers Filled with Vitriol ✩ Track Three: Boulevard of (Broken?) Dreams ✩ Track Four: You Can Throw Me in the Deep End ✩ Track Five: Every Canvas that I Paint is a Masterpiece (of My Mistakes) ✩ Track Six: Band-Aids Don't Fix Bullet Holes ✩ Track Seven: Good Girls Stay Alive ✩ Track Eight: The End of Me, The End of Me ✩ Track Nine: If It Means A Lot To You ✩ Track Ten: Hand on the Throttle ✩ Bonus Track: We Are Distortion, 1-2-3-go!!

꒰ info ꒱ ✩ all characters are 24/25 years old ✩ reader co-owns an art gallery and has a BFA ✩ reader's artist alias is "glxtch" (glitch) ✩ bakugo drives a custom built orange & black Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R ✩ relationships: momojiro, kirimina, ex-bakucamie, ex-dabi/reader

✩ band name: Distortion ✧ Kyoka Jiro | lead singer, electric guitar (Barista - Degree in Music Production) ✧ Denki Kaminari | electric guitar, backup vocals (Waiter) ✧ Eijiro Kirishima | bass, backup vocals (Bartender) ✧ Katsuki Bakugo | drummer, backup vocals (Bike Mechanic) ✧ Mina Ashido | keyboard, backup vocals (Makeup artist) ✧ Momo Yaoyorozu | band manager (Marketing assistant)

✩ vocal inspirations ✧ Kyoka Jiro ⇢  addie amick (halocene) ✧ Denki Kaminari ⇢  rory rodriguez (dayseeker) ✧ Eijiro Kirishima ⇢  tim mcilrath (rise against) ✧ Katsuki Bakugo ⇢  eric vanlerberghe & acoustic (i prevail - harsh vocals) ✧ Mina Ashido ⇢  maggie lindemann

꒰ mood board ꒱

✩ pinterest board ✩

꒰ playlist ꒱

⇢  tag list ; @/bells-28 @/simp-plague @/nemisimp @/hotttamalee @/mymysenpai @/ttulipwritezz @/bakunianadecorazon @/yoyolovesdaiki @/eeeeeevesstuff @/alloueate @/dollukisposts @/Rikakhai @/blazedbakugou @/lillizxzz ♡ last updated // 08.09.24 dividers, banners & moodboard by taurus-magicka

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 16

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️ If you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

Joel is there and he's in your house, sitting at the kitchen table and he's sitting across from your mother. The two have a deeply tense expression and you too, you zigzag your gaze from one to the other.

"What happens?" you ask in dismay.

"I called Mr. Miller," you swallow, unable to bear the gaze of either of them, "and I begged him to find a little more time for you and your music," you swallow again "he is even willing to come here to us if you don't have time to go to him." she says again and you are dumbfounded, you wanted to call Joel later but instead. . .

"Yes and then I told your mother" Joel says to whom you look up only for a moment and then look towards your mother "to Mrs. Eleanor" he specifies looking into her eyes making her smile cheekily, you are dumbfounded by your mother's reaction "that's a shame not to intensify your lessons, you're a natural." he adds.

"I had a good teacher, that's all." you say.

"No, you're a natural." he reiterates and you look up at him and so after almost a month your eyes meet again and your heart starts beating fast and you find yourself thinking that, if you had been alone, you would have thrown yourself into his arms and would never have allowed him to leave you again.

"Thank you." you simply reply.

"Well, if you want Mr Miller I'll make you some coffee or maybe I can offer you some pancakes, would you like that?" your mother suggests, heading towards the kitchen.

Joel clears his throat and stands up too, "No, thanks. I'm fine. I just wanted to talk to you about your daughter, we can arrange a meeting maybe once a week here and the other two at my place? We could do everything here, but there are great acoustics there at my place and then I feel a little more comfortable composing as well."

“Oh, honey, did you know that your teacher writes songs too?” your mother informs you enthusiastically.

Oh, yes, of course you know... you clearly remember that day at his house, your arousal, his hands on you, you find yourself instinctively squeezing your legs together as if trying to contain that heat that you feel at the mere memory.

"Yes, I know. I heard one a while ago and it was shocking." you reply, but directing your gaze towards Joel.

"Ma'am, if it's okay, we can have the lesson right away at my place." Joel says taking the car keys.

"Oh, why not here? I'll be leaving in half an hour, I wouldn't disturb you."

"Mom, I don't think it's appropriate..." you start to say.

Joel, however, interrupts you immediately "Okay, but I just have to go get the sheet music at home," then he turns his gaze towards you and says your name so sweetly that it almost makes you dizzy "Would you like to come with me?"

No! Say, no. No!

"All right." you reply standing there stiffly in the middle of the room "Shall we go?" you ask hastily "See you later." you say, taking leave of your mother.

You put on your shoes and then open the door, Joel is right behind you. You go down one step away from the other, you look down at your feet, Joel looks towards you. He would like to apologize for making you feel wrong, for making you feel useless, it's not like that, you are very important to him, but precisely because you are important to him he is even more afraid, fear of losing you.

You get into his car and without saying a word, he starts the car and you drive away from there, he parks in front of his house, he puts on the handbrake and turns towards you, "Can we talk?"

You look at him, “I heard about your daughter.” you tell him straight away.

You see him frown and look sadly into your eyes, “How did you know?”

"Earlier on my way to work, I took another road and passed an old school and there I met your daughter's teacher, Sarah's teacher." you answer him, you see him breathing deeply and then look towards his house "I don't know what you felt, what you feel. . . I. . . I can't even imagine what this kind of loss is." you unhook your belt and move closer to him "I'm so sorry." you put a hand on his cheek making his face turn towards you, you find yourselves eye to eye "Joel, I'm sorry." you repeat "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I want you to know that if you ever want to, I'll listen to you." he places his hand on yours, he pushes it away, but just so he can kiss the palm of your hand, you shiver as you feel his soft lips in contact with your skin. You bring your face closer to his, kissing him on the lips, you move away just enough to look him in the eyes, then he closes the distance again by kissing you deeply. It's like hearing hundreds of fireworks exploding all around you, you can almost feel the electricity passing between you. You would also like to tell him that, although you understand his pain, you would have liked him to talk to you about it, to open his heart, to not make you feel excluded from his life, you would have liked to know his joys and sorrows and instead you discovered his great immense pain on your own, you would like to understand what he does when he talks to Jess if it's not what you think, then what is it like? What do they do? They talk?

You move away only for a few moments, just long enough to get out of the car and enter his house, the time he closes the door and you are once again against each other, he envelops you completely making you feel small and defenseless, you kiss as if you wanted to devour each other, you have your hands in his hair, he holds you tightly to him.

"I missed you," he whispers in your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe that makes you instinctively - and if possible - press even more against him, his wet lips go down your neck, while his hand sweetly pulls your hair back making you lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes.

I missed you too, you want to tell him, but something stops you, perhaps his inability to speak to you openly, perhaps the fact that he didn't trust you, perhaps the fact that he told you he loves you, but he actually didn't have the need to open up to you, to tell you about himself, about his life, perhaps this is what really hurts you.

He must have sensed that you're a little distant because he stops with his hands on the edges of your shirt, "I mean it," he insists, looking into your eyes, you look at him, your lips are parted and your eyes are shining, but the words are stuck in your throat "I still care about you," you missed hearing your name pronounced by his lips, you close your eyes relaxing imperceptibly against him “what about you?”

"Not to me." you answer, but you answer too quickly and without looking him in the eyes, it's not true and he knows it.

"Say it again, looking into my eyes." he tells you, placing his hands on the sides of your face so that his eyes can meet yours, his eyes in this light look like pure honey and God, how you missed drowning in it!

"Joel, stop it!" you try to free yourself from his grip, but without success, he is stronger than you, he holds you firmly there in place.

"Say it, say it and this time I will disappear from your life forever." Joel urges you knowing that you could never say those words, both you and him, in fact, know well that that bond is still very strong between the two of you "Use your words," he urges you, as you once again try to free yourself, but once again you fail miserably "D' you know why you don't say it? Because both you and I know how we still feel about each other and if you said you didn't care about me anymore, I wouldn't believe you."

You sigh loudly, in fact that's not the problem...

"So?" he urges again looking into your eyes, it's an instant and your lips crash against each other again, his lips so soft, the contact with his beard and mustache, you missed his hands holding your hair, your tongues caressing and chasing each other, you missed this so much.

You enjoy his strong scent and the taste of coffee, he wraps you in his arms making you find yourself on his sofa, you don't even know how you got there "I love you, baby." he says between a kiss and another "I really mean it." he continues giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose, then again on your lips and then along the jaw down along the neck "And you?"

“I wish I could tell you that I don't care about you.” you respond by abandoning your head against a pillow, keeping your eyes closed, while you feel his lips lapping your neck with kisses "But that wouldn't be true," you add, holding your breath, as he stops kissing you and you open your eyes, "I missed you. So much." you squeak.

"I missed you too, angel" you kiss him first again, you put your hands in his hair which feels soft under your fingers, you lightly pull a few strands of his hair hearing him hold his breath, you pull away from his lips just to smile at him for a moment and then lift your head to slowly kiss his jaw, his beard tickles your lips and it's a sensation you've always loved, then you slowly move down to his neck feeling him breathe heavier, you notice his Adam's apple bobbing up and down "Baby," he groans, threading a hand through your hair, making you find eye contact again.

You remember the first time he touched you right here on this couch, you were shaking. Not out of fear, you were never afraid of him or what he could do, you always trusted and relied on him.

You remember how you didn't know how to handle those sensations that upset you deeply, you remember how overwhelming it was to feel his big, strong hands on you, you remember how you felt protected and safe despite that unknown sea of sensations.

“Joel,” you say, then clutching his t-shirt in the fists of your hands, “can I take this off?” you ask him.

He gives you another kiss on your lips, then moves away slightly to allow you to undress him. Once again you enjoy his wide chest, full of wounds and this time you will do what you always wanted to do: kiss them.

"Lie down." you tell him, smiling at him, while he gives you a look between lustful and amused, he does as you say.

You smile at him as you lie on top of him. You kiss him deeply, languidly feeling his hands wander over your covered back first and then under your clothes. You reach for his hands, finding them and bringing them above his head intertwining your fingers with his, you pull away from him for a moment breaking your kiss, “Stay still.” you tell him.

"What do you want to do?" he asks you in an amused tone, but you don't answer, you kiss his neck and then you kiss a first small pink scar on his collarbone, another whitish one longer on the deltoid, another slightly larger whitish one a little further down, you feel his chest hair tickling your lips, you feel him holding his breath, "Let go." this time you say it by looking up at him, his lips are parted and his eyes are full of lust. You then go down to the last wound on his side, the scar is wide and still red - pink, you release your grip from his hands and take a moment to caress it with a thumb, as he gently threads a hand through your hair and then moves the hair that has partly fallen in front of your face.

He whispers your name as you look up at him again, “I love this mouth.” he says, as you start placing kisses on his belly again, until you reach the strip of darker hair that disappears into his trousers where you notice his obvious erection still covered, "Do you wanna drive me crazy?" he asks, breathing heavily through his nose and closing his eyes.

You don't answer him, you straddle him and kiss him again, when your still covered private parts touch you both moan, Joel places his hands on your hips and looks at you with eyes full of desire, you exchange a long silent look, you - both of you - feel a shiver and not because of the cold, but because of the sensations you are experiencing.

He pulls himself up, you are face to face, you enjoy the sight of the wonderful man in front of you, the hair you love to sink your hands into, his dark eyes that you love to drown in, the wrinkles that form at the corners of his eyes and lips, his angular nose, the lips that you would never stop kissing.

"Baby," he says, caressing your face and kissing you lightly, "you're wonderful."

"Really?"

He nods, “Never doubt about that, darling.” he adds, caressing your face again.

He pulls you down onto him, then reverses positions. You have your head resting on the pillow and he is delicately resting on you, you look at each other. It's your turn to be undressed, but he doesn't limit to take off your shirt, he also gets rid of your jeans and underwear.

“You are a beautiful sight, I can't get enough of you,” he tells you, carefully scrutinizing every detail of you.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, you're naked under him again, but it's like it's the first time. You feel a slight embarrassment, but the desire you feel in finding yourself under him, caressed by him, wanted by him is stronger.

"What are your intentions?" this time you're the one teasing him.

"I want to kiss your body inch by inch," his eyes become two black pools, while with a thumb he runs over your exposed breast, giving greater attention to your nipples which immediately harden making you gasp and close your eyes "I want to dedicate all the time necessary to this magnificent breast," he says, lowering his face towards your breast, wrapping your nipple between his lips, sucking it gently and then running his tongue over it, "Joel," you moan with your eyes closed, writhing under him, feeling a warm sensation spread up your body, then he kisses the crease between your breasts, then wrapping the other one, giving it the same attention.

Stronger and stronger shivers spread through your body, reverberating there, you're soaked, you must be wetting his sofa because of how strong you feel the excitement.

"Joel..." you moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

"'s there something wrong?" he quips.

You open your eyes to find his eyes made even darker by excitement, if possible, "You still have your jeans on." you point out, “Move over, it's my turn.”

"What is a carousel?" he asks smiling at you, but without moving.

You give him a little grin, "It looks like both of our favorite carousel."

"I'm not done with you yet," he warns you, his mouth moving down to your belly where he leaves a series of small wet kisses, "Does it bother you?" he asks, you shake your head as you slide your hand into his hair again "Oh, baby girl, you're soaked, look at you!" he exclaims, you don't know if he really wants you to look or if it's just an exclamation, in doubt you find yourself swallowing and feeling even wetter seeing how Joel is staring at your intimacy completely exposed to his eyes "I want to treat her like she deserves,” he tells you, stroking your inner thighs with both hands, doing it several times and getting closer and closer to where you want it most.

"Joel. . ." you moan, feeling your intimacy contract at the mere thought of having his hands there again.

"Don't worry, little one," he says and, before you can say anything else, he bends down even more and kisses your mound, you widen your eyes and open your lips, you want to say something, but that gesture takes your breath away "Oh, darling, now I will take care of this delicious little hole." having said this he licks it up to the clit making you gasp and tilt your head back, his tongue seems to want to gently dig inside you, as the contractions increase more and more and you find yourself moaning without restraint and writhing under him "Stay still, love" he says, moving his face slightly away from your intimacy, making his hot breath shatter against your arousal, as he grabs your hips with his hands to keep you still, then his languid caress continues.

"Joel, fuck. . . fuck. . . fuck. . ." you find yourself cursing, squeezing your eyes tightly between one broken moan and another, you're literally on fire, his hands on your hips, his lips and tongue inside you, his nose insistently touching your throbbing center makes you come against him.

He keeps licking until he feels you are relaxing again, he wants to enjoy your nectar until the last drop, when you reopen your eyes you immediately find his dark eyes, he kisses your mound again in a sweet gesture, then he goes up giving you small kisses along your belly, fleetingly on your breasts and then kisses you. That kiss now tastes of you, no longer just of him, but of you and him.

He kisses the tip of your nose and then you stay nose to nose for a while without saying anything, your heart is still beating fast in your chest, his hand reaches for yours, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to his lips, kissing it, “Are you okay?” he asks you.

"Never been better." you reply by smiling at him and tightening your hand grip "Now will you allow me to do something?" you ask him, stroking first his cheek and then his hair with the other hand.

"Whatever you want, darling." he just tells you, as you slide your hand from his hair to his face, to his neck, then you let your hand wander along his chest to the belt of his pants which you slowly undo, you let your gaze wander from his trousers to his absorbed and lustful gaze, you lower your gaze again to his trousers and more precisely to where his already half-hard manhood is, you slowly stroke him up and down, while you continue to study his expression which gradually becomes more tense until he releases a small grunt.

"May I?" you ask him almost intimidated by his reaction, he nods with a small shiver, you place your hands on his chest pushing him back and making him lie down on the sofa.

You lie on him again, you give him a quick kiss and then slowly undo the button on his trousers and lower the zipper, you open his pants revealing his boxers and his growing erection, "Oh, Joel, you are so big," you moan, sliding his jeans down his hips and legs.

"You like it?" he asks you with a half-grin painted on his face.

"Oh, yes." you just reply.

"You have no idea how much I want you. . ." he lets out panting looking for your cheek with one hand, you lean towards him kissing him and savoring his large hand on your cheek, it's so warm, it envelops you completely, it caresses you tenderly, you pull away from him for a moment, gently rubbing your nose against his "I really love you." he adds looking into your eyes, "I didn't think you could be so important in my life, I never thought it possible."

You breathe deeply, stroking with a thumb the profile of his jaw covered by his patchy beard, then you run the same thumb over his soft lips which he promptly kisses, "I know it will be difficult to believe me, but it's true. Please believe me." he insists again.

You nod, even if the deep sadness that this whole story has caused you doesn't disappear at all.

You move away from his face and begin to kiss the crook of his neck, his collarbone, you savor his strong scent and the contact with his tanned skin, you let your lips wander first and then your hands over his broad chest and then you get there where there is a line of darker hairs that disappear into his boxers, you look at him almost looking for permission with your gaze, permission which is immediately granted. You pull them down revealing his huge shaft hitting his soft belly, you stare at him in fascination. The veins are already clearly visible, his big tip is pink, his balls swollen, you find yourself holding your breath without even realizing it, "You wanna touch it?" he offers in a low growl.

The lewdness of his words resonates within you, making the arousal within you grow again, you grab his big arousal, slowly move the foreskin up and down two or three times revealing his big reddened glans, "Yes, that's right, baby, just like that" he encourages you, whispering these words in a low and strangled tone of voice. As before, you see drops of pre cum coming out of the tip and you can't resist, you bring a finger closer, picking them up and bringing them to your mouth, Joel makes a strangled sound "How's it?" he asks in a hoarse voice, looking into your eyes.

It has a particular, strong, intoxicating flavour. "It tastes like you," you say, taking a little more of that pearl and bringing it to your mouth, you like it. You've always thought of sex in general, and then more specifically oral sex, as something humiliating, gross and degrading, but with him nothing is.

"May I?" you ask him, moving your face closer to his shaft.

"You don't have to do this," he says in the voice of someone who craves something.

"I'm the one who wants it," you say and then place a chaste kiss on his reddened tip, you feel him tremble beneath you, then you turn your eyes towards him and see him with his head tilted back slightly, his eyes narrowed, the jaw tightened and the veins in the neck clearly visible, that reaction of his makes you start licking his tip slowly as if it were a sweet ice cream cone.

"Fuck, you're fucking perfect!" he exclaims in a strangled tone, while he begins to slowly caress one of your breasts making you moan.

His words and his reaction make you take him into your mouth a little more and his taste is even stronger, even more intoxicating, it tastes like him, a moan escapes you that makes him make a strangled sound, your eyes sting slightly as you open your mouth even more to welcome him "Oh, baby. . ." he moans, slipping his hand into your hair and stroking it slowly.

You didn't think that giving him pleasure with your mouth was so destabilizing for him, you didn't even think you were capable of it. You caress his shaft with your tongue slowly, fearing you'll do something wrong, you look for his eyes, but his tense expression and his strangled moans make you understand that you are not wrong, you feel his excitement contracting more and more in your mouth, until he lets out a louder moan than the others and in a panting voice says, "Stop, darling, I'm about to come." he warns you, looking at you with shiny eyes full of desire, you move your lips away from him, he's about to get up and reverse the positions as he had already done, but you, with a courage unknown to you, place a hand on his chest, stopping him.

"May I. . .?" you ask him hesitantly, wrapping him in your hand as he pulls you towards him, kissing you hard and deeply, meanwhile you begin your rhythmic caress along his shaft, you hear almost animalistic noises coming from his throat. You are hypnotized by the absolutely erotic moment you are experiencing, his throbbing erection in your fist, you held tight to him in a sweet grip, his lips on you and your tongues busy chasing each other in each other's mouths.

He moans deeply and long into your mouth when he comes, his seed falls in hot, thick spurts along your hand still gripping him and partly onto his belly, only then you move your lips away from his to observe his huge, still throbbing erection held tightly in your fist, the red tip and the streams on your hand, you taste it "Christ. . ." he exclaims in a strangled voice, you look at him quizzically "You are the most beautiful and most erotic thing I have ever laid my eyes on, little brat” you smile without taking your eyes off him.

You never thought that licking the cum, his cum, was so erotic and that it wouldn't disgust you, but above all you never thought you would do this with him. You help him clean his belly from his release, then he pulls you towards him, hugging you tightly to his chest. You're both breathless.

"You were perfect," he comments giving you a kiss on the forehead holding you even tighter to him, you feel good, so good, but a small part of you still continues to feel disappointed by him, a small part that in this moment almost seems to scream and it hurts you to think of him in these terms after what you lived together.

"You're still thinking about my silence with you, aren't ya?" you look into his eyes and he looks back “You just can't let it go, can you?” he adds, moving a lock of hair behind your ear "I made a mistake, I know. You can't just forgive me?"

You move away from him and sit on the edge of the sofa with your back to him, you place your forehead against the palms of your open hands and breathe deeply before answering him "It's not something that happens like that. You don't tell me openly about your ex, I find out about your daughter by myself because of some photos scattered here and there," you lift your head and look towards him “it’s a lot to take in.”

“I know,” he just says without taking his eyes off your face.

"I knew you had a past, but I didn't believe that. I thought you divorced your ex-wife, I thought you had a daughter maybe with her mother somewhere and that you saw her every now and then. I imagined this." you confide in him.

"Would you have preferred this?" he asks you.

You look away for a moment, preferred maybe not, maybe you would have been jealous of the time he would have had to spend with his daughter and maybe with his ex, but maybe you would have accepted it.

Instead, you find yourself fighting a ghost, a pain so strong that neither you nor anyone else could put aside.

"Joel. . . I don't know. In short, I'd have understood. What I really can't understand is why not talk about it? Unfortunately your daughter is no longer here, why not say so? I'd have hugged you in silence and in silence I'd have listened to you talk to me about her." you reply, looking again at his hazel eyes.

"I know," he says sitting up and kissing your still bare shoulder, you get shivers feeling his soft lips contrasting with his beard against your skin "and since we're in the mood for confessions, she's not my ex-wife, she was my partner, girlfriend if you like, there was never any marriage between us, just Sarah." you look into each other's eyes "After she died, I accused her and she accused me, this led to both of us going our separate ways. We were only hurting ourselves. Then every year, when that day came, we found ourselves remembering her and remembering our fleeting family. Things worked for one, maximum two months and then everything exploded again, you already know the rest."

His previous silence hurt and still hurts you, but you appreciate that he told you about this other little corner of himself, you sigh "There's still one thing you didn't tell me," he looks at your face, "you told me it wasn't what I thought about you and your ex, so what do you do when you see each other? You talk, um. . . you - you fuck, what did you do?" you gulp, you're scared to hear his response, but you need to know.

"The first few times we did both, we talked and we fucked. A lot. A few times we even dared to think about having a child together again," you feel like you're sinking at the idea that they even planned all of this "but then we decided that it wasn't right to relive all over again. So, when we see each other, and this is increasingly rare, we talk. We just remember our daughter. You know, it's a pain that doesn't go away. You can find a thousand things to do, but. . ." he sighs "the pain never leaves you." he's telling you the truth, you feel it, his eyes don't lie, his sad expression is the confirmation of this, you lean against him and place your head in the crook of his neck, you turn your head towards his neck and you deeply inhale his scent, holding him tightly to you, thus making him feel your closeness.

[writerblue275]

What to get each Heartsteel member for the holidays

Aphelios: 1. Stuff to decorate his studio with. 2. Moon-themed things. 3. Why do I feel like he’s similar to me and collects SOMETHING. For me it’s owl things (I fucking love owls.) and cool enamel pins! I could see Phel collecting really cool enamel pins or some sort of trinket. 4. To go with #3. A place to put said trinkets (for example a cork board/pin banner to hang pins on). [I should take a photo of my cork board that has all my pins and stuff on it so you can see what I mean!]

Ezreal: 1. Book discussing an ancient civilization he’s been interested in. 2. A book going over works of an artist/artistic period/movement he really likes. (I did that for my dad this year about an artist he likes and he almost started crying he was so excited. It was so fucking cute. I’ve been waiting to give him that book since JULY. 🥹)

Kayn: 1. Accessories for a guitar (like a custom embroidered guitar strap or picks). 2. I feel like he’d primarily play electric, but I definitely think he’d play/have an acoustic guitar. You can find some really cool wood-burned acoustic guitars for (relatively) cheap. (A good instrument is expensive (I know this from playing viola) but compared to electric guitars, acoustics are definitely more affordable.) 3. I have a fun embroidery hoop hanging on my wall and it’s all fancy and shit and it says “DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO” and I think something like that fits Kayn so perfectly. (I need to take a photo and post it for y’all. It’s one of my favorite things lmao.)

K’Sante: 1. A really fancy set of colored pencils and a really nice sketch pad that he can use for sketching out his designs. 2. A new sewing machine/sewing kit. 3. FABRIC. Get this man nice fabric so he can bring his designs to life! Especially if he’s shown you a design he really loves, or that you really love, get fabric for that specific design.

Sett: 1. Brand new fancy sewing kit he’s been talking about. (I absolutely love that he’s canonically a sewing expert. I fucking love it so much). 2. If not a full kit then a really nice seam ripper or specific tool he maybe needs an upgrade on. Could be customized to him. I think he’d love that! 3. Really nice set of pots/pans/kitchen utensils. (I’m thinking like the hex clad pans I keep hearing about.)

Sett Extra: You better get something for his mama!!! As someone who has a mother who is a knitting machine, I know exactly what to get. 1. Some really really lovely and fancy yarn. 2. Knitting pattern books that she doesn’t have. 3. A yarn bowl (it’s literally a bowl that the yarn sits in, and there’s a little hole or design that allows the end to come out so you don’t have to keep unwinding the yarn or anything. And it’s easy to keep your space neat while knitting. My mother LOVES HERS. My dad accidentally broke her first one and she was devastated! [A new/nicer one was her Christmas present from my dad last year.])

Yone: 1. Some god damn peace and quiet and sleep. This man needs a break lmao. 2. But actually, stuff to decorate his studio with (for example a funny little do not disturb sign that he can put on the door, some posters or something. 3. Maybe some small framed photos of the two of you that he can put on his desk. You’re his muse after all (and you help him not go insane during late nights.)

EXTRA-

Alune: She deserves some gifts toooooooo!! 1. This woman deserves a damn spa day. Do I even have to explain myself? Like she deserves some serious pampering. 2. Another one who I could see collecting something fun. Probably moon related lol.

[kitttttchaos]

Tbh idk if I could handle a Raven cycle adaptation unless I wrote it 😭 so here are some things I’d do as an (unqualified) aspiring filmmaker:

1. Film in Banner Elk and Wake Forest, North Carolina

Like tell me this does not give you Henrietta vibes

2. Soundtrack with songs like Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver, Nightjar and the Nightingale by Roo Panes, The View Between Villages by Noah Kahan, etc etc

3. Idk how recognizable Duke campus is but

Aglionby?

3. Score would have lots of acoustic guitars, a mix of like folk sounds and kind of lulling, plinking magical sounds, with a lot of rising, inspirational bits. In really intense scenes, really loud natural sounds like rain and wind rustling through trees and birdsong

4. You know when you’re outside, and you say something, and it echoes, but not really, it’s just that your voice is quieter than everything else because this is not your world, it belongs to the birds and the wind and the rain? THAT

5. Tons of focus on the idle scenes, like Noah and Blue running through Monmouth and messing stuff up, Gansey and Blue’s phone calls, Ronan street racing, Adam’s moments of thought, all things that you might cut if you were trying to focus on the plot but the plot of TRC is NOTHING without these scenes

6. That one scene in the Dream Thieves where Ronan is just sitting at the playground with Matthew, and it’s interrupted by Niall Lynch’s will. IMAGINE THAT AS A VOICEOVER just intercut with their conversation, or even as a rlly disjointed flashback

7. Adam Driver as Barrington Whelk

8. Theo James as the Gray Man

I’ll do a whole other one on characters but anyway those are my thoughts

[bogglecatboxx]

genshin reverse au headcanons

in which you’re a character in the hit video game genshin impact, and they’re your biggest fan ; notes: gn!reader, all lower case, reader is a limited 5-star bc i said so, also reader is an antagonist in tartaglia’s part lmao

venti:

if you have any kind of character song or leitmotif, he’s learning it on every instrument he owns. posts an acoustic cover online. (he also writes an original song about you, but he keeps that one to himself, wanting to really perfect it first.)

has pins and keychains of you; you’re probably also his phone wallpaper. reads fanfics of you and goes ‘y/n would NOT say that >:/‘

runs teams centered around you; regardless of what role you are, he makes sure the rest of the team has synergy with you. even if he has to run a specific character that you don’t work well with for whatever reason, you stay on the team lol. any online friends he plays with are so used to this they might accidentally refer to him as y/n.

hums while playing; if you have any singing or humming voice lines, he tries to hum along to them.

tartaglia:

no matter what role you’re supposed to be, he’s running full damage y/n. if you’re supposed to be a support this is extremely confusing to people, especially when they see how well he’s making it work (he likes the challenge). if you’re meant to be a dps anyway, people are still surprised to see the high damage he’s doing and how fast he clears bosses.

probably posts pictures or videos like ‘clearing spiral abyss w just y/n (and traveller) !!’

on that note, he probably does run a one-character team for everything he can. you’re strong enough to win on your own, why would he need anyone else?

does your boss fight/trounce domain on repeat. feels kinda bad for repeatedly beating up his favorite character, but also loves seeing you in your (slightly evil) element.

posts stuff like ‘i support hot people’s rights AND wrongs 🥺💕’ and ‘i don’t want to fix them i love them as they are 💖💞’ next to screenshots of cutscenes where you commit atrocities

lyney:

had been playing before your banner (freminet had introduced him to the game), but you were the first (and likely only) 5star character he c6’d

honestly, lynette is probably sick of hearing about y/n this and y/n that all the time. (she doesn’t play herself, although she sometimes watches her brothers play.) (freminet’s a little sick of it, too, even if you are one of his favorite characters.)

practices small, simple card tricks during cutscenes and loading screens (he has, like, ten decks of cards on his desk alone). gets embarrassed if he fumbles while you’re on screen lol

will try to find a way to do any cool magic you do in game with practical effects. depending on how magical or complicated your abilities are, this might take a while, but he’s determined to look at least almost as cool as you do in game.

probably most likely to cosplay you.

[thebluemage]

The Hills | Steve Kemp

Pairing | Steve Kemp x dark!reader

Warning | Explicit sexual content, 18+, smut, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, cyberstalking, hacking, gaslighting, dark web, black market harvesting, manipulation, mentions of canibalism, mentions of distributing of body parts, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of Stockholm Syndrome, dark themes, Steve Kemp (he's a warning on his own!)

Summary | You discover Steve’s dark secret but you still admire him for it.

Word Count | 3163

A/N | Here’s the next part to Obsession, enjoy! ❤️ Beta’d by the amazing @lunarbuck, but all mistakes are my own. Banner & divider made by @vase-of-lilies. If y’all enjoy it, leave some feedback, comment and reblog. I’d really appreciate it!! 💗

Taglist: @superdcchick @hallecarey1 @dangertoozmanykids101 @jobean12-blog @buckysteveloki-me @happydelightfulstrawberry @lovehotch87

First chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | My Ko-fi

‘I only call you when it’s half-past five. The only time that I’ll be by your side, I only love it when you touch me, not feel me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me. When I’m fucked up, that’s the real me, yeah.’ - The Weeknd

A few days go by, and you can’t stop thinking about Steve. Between the back-and-forth texting, he is nice and funny, everything you could ever ask for. You’re absolutely smitten with him. Just as you pull your laptop onto your lap, you receive a text from Steve.

Hey, Angel. Want to meet up? 

Yes, of course! Are you calling me ‘angel’ now?

Oh, yeah! Unless, you want me to stop… If that makes you uncomfortable.

No, no, please. Keep going, I like that! 

Good, it’s a date! I will send you the address and time! I can’t wait to see you again! My angel.

He sends you the address that is located near the bookshop where you first met him, and it’s not far from your place. You decide to walk the distance there, which is just a few blocks away.

You walk into a warm and cozy cafe. The smell of coffee roams around the acoustic atmosphere of the place. It’s lovely. As you look through the crowd of people, you lock your eyes on Steve again. A smile spreads across your face.

“Hey there, handsome.” You approach the booth where he’s sitting. He stands up and greets you with a hug. “Hey, Angel.”

He’s wearing a soft brown sweater with black pants to complete the look. You wrap your arms around his body as you slide closer to him. His large hands touch your back while he pulls you into his embrace. The scent of his cologne infiltrates your nostrils as you smell his strong scent, a mix of a dewy scent of sage and bergamot. You never want to let him go, not ever.

“You smell nice.” You voice out when you sadly pull away from him.

“Thank you, Angel. You’re so delightful, and you look beautiful as ever.” He compliments  as he takes another look at you, roaming his eyes on your body. “Magnificent.”

Steve is utterly fixated on you. He can’t believe that he has found someone as heavenly as you are. Ethereal yet tangible, wholesome yet sinful to his desires. He only wants more of you with each passing second, he wants to know what you feel like wrapped around him as he rampantly thrusts into you. Fire arises when you look at him, as if you can see right through him. He can’t wait to take a bite out of you.

“You flatter me, Steve.” You reply to him, when you avert your eyes back to Steve, becoming aware of his intense gaze on you. Your eyes connect together, and you feel a spark igniting in your gut.

“It’s the truth.” He states as his stare lingers on. You couldn’t look away from him, afraid to lose this sense of coming home.

“Uhh, let’s sit down.” He takes your hand and maneuvers you into the booth. He takes his place with you sitting next to him.

“So, here come the awkward questions,” he declares while he laughs a bit. 

You tell Steve some basic information about yourself as he listens intently. You don’t want to reveal everything about yourself to him as you feel apprehensive about opening up, so you improvise a generic white lie.

I won’t tell him about my job and about my hacking skills. Maybe I can do more damage and use it to my advantage. 

You tell him a different job occupation and he nods notably.

A waiter comes to your booth to take your orders and leaves quickly, hurrying to the next customer. Several minutes later, another waiter comes with your orders.

“So, what brings you to town, Steve?” You ask him as you tilt your head curiously.

“My second residency.”

“Nice. I can imagine many women would line up just to get a procedure done by you.”

“Not that many, if I’m being honest. Most women that come to me want to change their physique. You have the occasional boob job, tummy tucks.” He plucks a red cherry out of the cup and pops it in his mouth.

“And butt lifts.” You finish for him with a smile.

“Yeah, that too,” He chuckles knowingly.

“Do you have any social media, perhaps?” You ask him as you take your phone out of your bag to search him online.

“I don’t have any.” He shakes his head immediately.

Hmm, strange. 

“Instagram?” You question, persisting on answers as you move closer to him.

“I don’t feel like sharing things about my private life.”

“Okay, that’s valid.”

“What about Twitter?” You continue the questions as you bring your body forward to him and lean your head against your hand for support. He takes a few sips from his drink, taking his time to answer.

“No. Does anyone have anything smart to say on Twitter? No way.” 

“How am I able to contact you more easily? If not via social media, and only texting?”

“I don’t know, you can always send me a letter the old-fashioned way,” he suggests jokingly, as you laugh at his witty comment. He looks up at you, and something mischievous glimmers through his eyes while he smiles at you. 

“What?” You ask him when he keeps staring at you, taking a glimpse at your mouth.

“You have such a beautiful smile.”

“Thank you, Steve. You’re so kind.”

The afternoon progresses to evening, and you and Steve lose track of time. When Steve goes to the toilet, you decide to peek into his wallet that he left behind. His ID card  presents a different identity than what he alluded to. His actual name is Brendan Steven Kemp. 

Huh. Should keep that in mind. What secrets are you hiding, Steve? No social media? Come on now, what doctor doesn’t have a social media of their own?

Before he comes back, you take a picture of his ID card from both sides for later search purposes and neatly put it back into his wallet. Between laughter and regular flirting, you both seem to be in a trance-like state, together in your own little bubble. The tension builds up between you and him; it’s undeniable. As soon as you two walk out of the cafe and walk the short distance to your apartment, the attraction is palpable.

“Fuck this.” You approach him and close the space between you and him. You grab his face and crush your lips onto his with a passionate fire.  

Steve immediately reciprocates and kisses you back. His mind races due to his own duality for you. He must have you. You moan when you feel his tongue sliding into your mouth, clashing onto yours with wild abandon. Steve is enticed by you while he roams his hands all over your body, like a madman. Overwhelming and hot. When you open your apartment door, you both storm through it. When your back hits against the wall of the tiny hallway, you start to pull your jacket off, and let it fall to the floor.

He pulls away slightly to catch his breath and looks at you through gentle eyes while cradling the sides of your face. “Maybe we’re going too fast.”

Oh. That’s the first time. Why is that?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush into it, we can slow down if you like.” You start to back away from the wall when Steve moves away from you, contemplating on what to do. You pick your jacket from the floor and neatly hang it to the coathanger.

“Uhh, do you want something to drink?” You ask him as you go further into your living room, going towards the kitchen. Steve runs a hand through his hair before scratching his forehead with his thumb as he watches you intently and doesn’t respond. He looks away for a second before you continue.

“Or eat?” He looks straight at you with a wild look again, as if he changed his mind again. 

Steve can’t let you go, no matter what. To him, you feel like a necessity, a longing that he hasn’t felt in ages, similar to the longing that he only has when he eats his type of meat. It’s inexplicable and indescribable. You’re the quintessential person of his desires. He lets himself fall on your couch when he sighs and directs his gaze to you again, almost pleading and hopeful. 

“Just you, Angel.” He gets out of the couch and makes a beeline straight toward you, grabs your face, and pulls you into him, pressing his lips hard against yours. Your breath catches in your throat while you place your hands on his head. A whimper slips past your lips as you’re unable to resist your longing for him.

You greedily touch Steve’s body wherever you can as you guide him to your bedroom. Every touch makes you crave him more, your thoughts whirl around in your mind at a rapid pace. He groans and moves the hand to cup the back of your neck and deepens the kiss, spearing his tongue in your mouth. Your nipples harden and your pussy clenches the longer Steve kisses you. You lay on your bed and start to undress all of your clothes quickly while Steve does the same, staring at you with a hefty and lewd gaze glimmering through his eyes. 

He climbs on top of you as he hovers his body over you while he stares passionately; his cerulean eyes growing darker by the second. He can’t believe your beauty, a stunning sight before his own eyes as if you’re a celestial being. He slowly moves his head down and starts to kiss you deeply again.

“I want you, my love,” he muses out hoarsely. He’s breathing just as harshly as you are.

“I’ve wanted you for days. Ohh!” You exclaim when Steve cups your breasts in his hands and molds your flesh before he pinches and plucks at your nipples, sending shivers up your spine.

“Hmm, you’re so responsive to me. Good girl.” He utters out seductively. He takes one of your breasts to his mouth and laps at your nipple with his tongue while flicking the other with his hand.

“Oh, fuck!” You announce as you close your eyes at the way Steve’s salacious tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. He hums with how your soft skin feels to him, savoring every inch of you; his hands making their way to your aching core. 

“Let me worship you, angel. I need to taste you now.” He rasps out, with urgency in his voice. He makes his way down while he gently bites into your skin, leaving red marks on the surface. He sets himself between your thighs and bites into each of them.

“Oh, fuck Steve!” You moan as your face contorts with pleasure as he suddenly shoves his face right onto your heat.

“I’m going to ravish you until you’re not able to utter a single word.” His dark cerulean eyes pierce through you as he hums. “And you’re going to be mine.” The feeling of his tongue going through your slit makes your back arch from the bed, and you moan out his name.

“Please, Steve! I– I’ll do anything!” You plead through jagged breaths while he deliciously defiles you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you firmly into place. He gives you long strokes, capturing every bit of essence you have. He sucks and laps your wet slick up with his mouth as if it’s the last drop of water he’ll ever drink in his life. He’s enticed by your taste, and he can’t wait until his cock is deep inside of you.

“Aahh! Steve!” You wail as you grasp a handful of his luscious hair and pull it. He groans, sending surges of lightning over your body. Your hips buck up as your body quiver underneath him, taking in all the bliss until you feel one of his fingers prodding into you, seeking entrance to your wet and aching pussy.

“Oh fuck!!” You exclaim as you arch your back from the bed while you hear the muffled groans of Steve underneath you. In one swift motion, he delves two fingers into your slit. A coat of your slick envelops his fingers as Steve licks ferociously on your clit.

“Come for me.” His sultry demand comes out low and husky as if he’s trying to contain his never-ending lust for you.

Your hips buck as your head falls onto the pillow from beneath you, when your eyes roll back into their sockets. You feel yourself come undone for him as your walls squeeze around Steve’s digits. 

“Aaaahh, Steve!!”

“Good. Good girl.” He ushers to your cunt as his strokes lightly decrease. He licks your wetness up with his tongue, and he hums out delicately.

“Hmm, you’re so exquisite.”

“T–thank you, Steve.” 

Your chest heaves heavily up as you gradually catch up your breath. He picks up your body tenderly and lays you gently next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You still feel his erection against the lobes of your ass.

You turn your head in his direction with a questioning look.

“Huh, and what about you?” You look at him, confused yet still dazed from your ravenous orgasm.

“Shh, sh, don’t worry about me, I just want to be close to you, skin-to-skin contact. This night was about your pleasure, not mine,” He simply answers. “Go to sleep, my Angel. You deserve to be well rested.”

Your eyes begin to feel heavy as the dim night light protrudes from the curtain of your window. You lift your arm and wrap it around his chest, pulling yourself more into his embrace. 

“Okay, Steve.” You softly accept his demand as your mind dwindles away from any worries. Steve sighs peacefully in return.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, my Angel.” It’s the last thing you hear before your eyes drift to a close, and you fall into a deep slumber.

The next day stumbles in slowly, with the sunlight peeking through the curtain. Rays of sunshine fall upon your face, enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes open slowly, and you’re in Steve’s arms. He’s still sleeping peacefully when suddenly an alarm starts to go off. Steve opens his eyes rapidly and checks the clock, he hurriedly gets out of bed.

“Oh, fuck. I totally forgot the time,” He says when he starts to dress up in his pants again before taking his shirt off the ground. “My shift at the hospital starts in thirty minutes.”

“Oh, what hospital do you work at?” You ask innocently.

“St. John’s Hospital,” He answers while he pulls his shirt over his head. “My first procedure starts in an hour. A patient is going to be very happy with their boob job.” He continues.

“Well, they’re in good hands with you.” You affirm encouragingly. You hoist yourself up from the bed in a sitting position. 

“Why, thank you. I'll see you tonight, Angel.” He takes your hand in his and kisses the top of your hand gently. 

“That’s alright, have a good day at work, handsome.”

“I’ll be thinking of you,” He softly intones when he’s all fully dressed and gathering all his belongings. “See you later, Angel.” And with that, he leaves through your apartment door. 

You squeal cheerily as you start your daily morning routine. Once you’re dressed and finished eating, you think you should do research on ‘Steve’. You want to know everything about him, so naturally, you take up your laptop and place it on your island and decide to do a simple search on Google. The only results that come up are from his reconstructive surgery website and a few articles that he wrote but there’s something else too, another result, a woman named Ann Kemp. 

Out of curiosity, you click on the link. And it redirects you to a Facebook page of a blonde-haired woman with a picture of her family standing in front of a house. And there he is, Steve, standing and smiling with his family. He has a wife and a dog. Ann is holding the dog on a leash. You can’t help but to take another look at the woman, there’s something off about her, but you can’t exactly pinpoint it. You zoom in on her, looking at her hand, and you notice she’s wearing a wedding ring on her left hand. 

You should have known that he was married. He’s too good to be true. You take a different approach with your searching. Since you're a talented hacker, you know your way around technology and the mechanics of it. You pull up a more advanced browser that can search literally anything related or attached to that specific name, word or thing.  The general public would know that browser and use it to go on the Dark Web. You have a program installed, so your IP address isn’t trackable. You remember having a picture of his ID with his real name on your phone. So, you take your phone out and look into it and you type in his name ‘Brendan Steven Kemp’. Up come a thousand search results from the normal search results of ‘reconstructive doctor' to a much sinister, more disturbing and shocking result.

There’s a business. The logo contains a white background, and a red logo of a head of a goat with a snake eating itself around it is displayed. You click on the logo, and it redirects you to a website. To your horror, you come to find that Steve practices in the most inhuman activities ever done. He harvests human meat and sells them on the dark web. And here you are, looking at his webshop. The various ‘products’ are listed by mainly female names. There’s a hand that goes by ‘Hope’, and the description is ever so horribly detailed as if it is a delicacy. With a price tag of thirteen thousand dollars!!

I knew it!! You have a wife!! I have to get out her of the picture, though. I can’t have her orbiting around you like some lost puppy dog. I can’t have that, Steve. There’s also something wrong with her, and how did you meet her anyway? Let me guess, you probably kidnapped her too, and she got Stockholm syndrome as a result.

You immediately go to work with it and pick through his encrypted layers of codes, and when you finally reach the barrier, you unlock the access. With ease, you gain access to his illicit webshop. With another set of difficult codes you shut off his website, and everything turns black.

So, that’s why you’re so private, Steve. You have a wife and are a cannibal. Being able to kidnap dozens of women, probably mutilate them, so as to keep them alive until there’s nothing left, consume them, and ultimately kill them to sell them. And I thought so highly of you. Are you going to do the same to me? Only one way to find out, I guess.

[taylorliveperformances]

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Taylor Swift performing the Star-Spangled Banner at a Miami Dolphins vs. Detroit Lions football game. November 23, 2006.

[michaelsfavgirl]

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✎ᝰ! My name is Kate, I'm nineteen, a Taurus and from West Asia.

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Last updated: August 15th, 2024

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© michaelsfavgirl 2024

[dark-elf-writes]

Song Shuffle Challenge

This is entirely @musicfeedsmysoul12’s fault as I haven’t even thought of one of these for years but it looked like fun so here I am.

Labour - Paris Paloma

Inko’s hands shook as she zipped up Izuku’s bag. Nothing more than his diaper bag. A scant few changes of clothes and his most beloved toys packed safely inside.

It looked innocent. It had to.

Hisashi couldn’t know. Couldn’t suspect.

Some animal part of her tucked deep inside bleated with fear as she scooped up her son and settled him on her hip. He smiled at her in that sweet way of his and offered her a damp All Might plush.

They would have nothing. Have nowhere to hide. Nowhere that would be out of his reach.

She had found the proof, tucked deep in his belongings. The messages between him and the doctor. The horrible plans that would consume all of Japan if left unchecked. A kingpin. A boogeyman. The nightmare that had haunted the country for two hundred years.

The plan had been formulated over days. Had come together in bits and pieces all while she hid behind smiles she gave everything to feel real.

She had been so young when she had sold her soul to the devil himself. She would die before she would watch him shatter their son in those blood drenched hands.

So now she would run and keep running until they were far far from here.

Someone To You - Acoustic - BANNERS

Izuku leaned against the doorframe and watched their friends bicker from where they had spread out around Tenya’s dorm.

(“If I wanted All Might staring at me while I did my homework, Zuku, I’d do it in class!”)

They had never thought they would have this. Never thought that useless quirkless Deku could have this. Friends who loved him. Friends who cared.

One for All pressed against the inside of their skin, scratching its way along their changing joints and over breaks healed over and over again. The ache of it was familiar. Comforting even, in the knowledge that they would do it all again. Would shatter themself over and over for the people who now looked back at them and smiled.

For them they would do anything.

Happier Than Ever- Billie Eilish

It had been three days, twelve Hours, and fifteen minutes after when Izuku laughed for the first time.

Bright. Free. Unafraid.

They had frozen at the sound. Had seen their friends freeze and look at them with such wonder like they had forgotten the sound. Just like Izuku had.

Their phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Happy. They were happy. When was the last time they had felt this?

Their phone buzzed away.

They had been keeping up a facade for so long they had confused it for their own face. Had smiled through every party they had attended alone. Through every interview where Kacchan had spoken over them. Through every drunk call where they had begged him to come home safe and been ignored.

Their phone buzzed.

Izuku reached out and ignored the call.

Saviour II - Black Veil Brides

It was the phantom hand on their shoulder that kept them from crumbling. Kept their smile from faltering in the slightest even with the agony lancing up their arms.

They had been molded for this. Had been born for this perhaps.

A successor for a symbol. An idea to step into the shoes of another. Everything they were and could have been stopped back to a beaming smile and the quirk that pounded through them.

Still they held their head high. Kept their smile firmly in place.

They had been molded into this. By him. For them all.

So they would smile and they would give all they had to save as many people as they could. Even if it killed them.

Boyfriend - Dove Cameron

A hand appeared in Izuku’s vision, drawing their eyes away from their phone. Drawing their hand away from it too as they were tugged up from their seat and into a secluded corner away from the eyes and dancing.

A familiar smile greeted them when they had finally broken out of their shock to look up. Sharp edged. Full of heat and promise.

“Come home with me,” Shinsou Hitoshi didn’t ask. Wouldn’t ask something like this. Wouldn’t leave even the slightest possibility of this not being Izuku’s choice.

A gentleman… of a sort.

“Kacchan—,”

“He treats you like shit.”

Well, no one had ever accused Hitoshi of being one to mince words.

Izuku should pull away. Should argue. But… couldn’t find it in themself to. Couldn’t even find the will to pull their wrist back from Hitoshi’s loose grip.

He saw it. Of course he did. That smile ducked closer as Hitoshi leaned in to whisper in their ear. “Let me treat you better, Zuku. Let me bring you flowers and do all the couple shit that he hates. Let me stand next to you for all these galas so you’re not left alone.”

Izuku should pull away.

They felt that smile press against their ear. Heard it in Hitoshi’s voice. “My wardrobe is better than his.”

They laughed and didn’t pull away.

[abiiors]

haunt // bed - pt. 2

a note about the banner: the photo in it is only meant to describe the dress, not the race, body type, hair colour, etc of the reader <3

a/n: truly out here manifesting the g and charli wedding with this one

minors dni!! part 1, part 3

wc: 3.3k

matty gently clinks a fork against his champagne flute, demanding the attention of the room. 

you are standing in a corner, leaning against one of the pillars and surveying the room as you casually sip on some champagne yourself. it’s good stuff, bubbly but not too sweet. it fills up your head with fuzzy goodness. enough to make you smile at the insufferable man in the ridiculously nice suit over the rim of your glass. 

“speech!” someone yells at the back of the room and a few weak laughs echo before everyone focuses their attention on the best man.

“george, charli,” he raises the glass at the couple who have their arms around each other, leaning into each other. “six months ago, you asked me if i would write something for the first dance. i was terrified, at first,” he laughs, “of fucking up, naturally. i wanted my best friends to have the perfect wedding that i did.”

you’re suddenly aware of his eyes on you; a kind of soft intensity that’s hard to look away from. his wedding—your wedding—was indeed perfect. you just didn’t think he would still have that opinion. a warmth spreads through your chest; it’s the alcohol, you tell your brain. stop drinking like a fish if you don’t want heartburn by the end of the night. but this warmth is tingly…it lingers too long in your stomach, perhaps in your whole body. 

“i did write something for you,” he continues, looking away after a second, “and i hope you love it as much as i love you.” he smiles and a cheer goes up. 

you straighten in your spot, no longer leaning leisurely against the column. someone brings out an acoustic guitar, making you very aware of the fact that this is the first time in almost a year that you will hear him sing. a small tremor goes through your hands and the liquid sloshes dangerously in the flute. 

someone brings out a stool for him to sit on, and fixes a mic in front of him. people clear the dance floor, making room for the newlyweds. you stay transfixed in your spot; unable to move and desperate to flee. 

what’s worse is that his date is already behind him, running a hand over his arm. she stumbles slightly and it’s not a surprise, you’ve already seen her down two glasses of wine. maybe that’s the key to this evening. 

you look at george and charli on the dancefloor, already swaying softly in each other’s arms before he’s even begun strumming the guitar, completely lost in each other. is this what you and matty had looked like all those years ago? 

your sour mood is not fair to them. this is their day, not yours. you should be honoured that charli’s asked you to be in the wedding party, not sulk in the corner like a seven year old being denied her favourite toy. 

you stare at the champagne, at the bubbles rising up to the surface rapidly. time to suck it up and stop being a little bitch. with a surge of newfound annoyance, you knock the glass back, drinking the entirety of it in one go. you stagger, lightheaded for one solid moment, but it passes and matty strikes the first chord on his guitar. 

his voice is all around you, echoing so clearly that for a second you wonder if it’s just the two of you in the room. his fingers move effortlessly on the frets while his other hand stums away at the strings, slows down to pluck them individually during slower moments and then speeds up again. 

it’s not surprising that he sings of love and happiness. his words are full of emotions and when they fall short, the sweet tune compensates for it. what surprises you is how it makes you well up with tears. 

matty has his eyes closed, smiling softly as he sings the lyrics. “so splash me with water / when we do the dishes together / i’ll take it over kisses in the rain”

one perfect curl falls on his forehead and just like that you’re back in a warm kitchen, past nine in the evening, hands slippery from the dish soap, singing along to the best of queen. matty’s hips bumping into yours as he gets too immersed into a song and forgets to rinse the plate properly. you reaching up to immediately flick him on the wrist. him tickling you as revenge, wet hands leaving damp spots on your old t-shirt. 

there were happy days. in your heart, you knew it wasn’t all lonely nights and a cold bed. 

his voice is replaced by loud claps and cheers as soon as the song ends. you open your eyes to a room full of people in some state of tearing up. charli has her head on george’s chest, blissfully unaware of the others. you’re glad the tears running down your face are not out of place. 

“matty, that was wonderful!” his date chimes in loudly, breaking the spell. 

this is the first time you’re hearing her voice. it’s high-pitched and american so when she says his name, it sounds more like ‘maddie’. and you’re once again fighting a losing battle with your brain not to stereotype her further. 

“thanks, babe,” he turns to her and gives her a warm smile. the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind that makes him look twenty-two again. 

the kind that feels like a gut punch to you. 

“careful, darling,” denise’s voice startles you. she’s been standing close to you this whole time—just a bit ahead, watching matty just like you had been. 

“careful,” she says again, “the glass might break.”

“what?” you follow her line of sight, right down to the glass in your hands and your death grip on it. your knuckles are white, clutching the delicate stem so tightly. she’s right, the glass might break any minute. 

“oh…uh, sorry.” heat rises up the back of your neck and up your cheeks. “i didn’t realise.”

“‘s alright,” she smiles, studying your face for a moment. “i just don’t want you to get hurt.”

the party is in full swing around you, and you have found one more thing your ex-husband was wrong about. whiskey does start to taste exceptionally amazing; especially when you’re trying not to throttle not one but two people in front of you. 

“dance with me!” charli calls for you from somewhere on the dancefloor. 

she’s already discarded her heels somewhere in the corner in favour of comfy shoes and sweated off her makeup. but she still looks stunning and radiates with joy at the centre of the dancefloor. “come onnnnn,” she calls for you again, almost slurring her words, and makes a run to drag you to the dance floor. 

“i can’t dance in heels,” you laugh, trying to get out of the dancing without offending her. the heels do hurt, not as much as you’re making it out to be but your feet are starting to get sore now. 

standing and sulking in one spot all evening will do that. 

“so take them off!” she’s in front of you now, holding onto your wrist and pouting like a kid. she knows you can’t resist that face. “please!! you can’t say no to me today, come on!”

it takes absolutely two seconds for you to give in. she’s right, you can’t—you shouldn’t—say no to her. not today of all days. 

“only for ten minutes,” you grumble and set the glass aside. then, on second thought, you pick it back up and down the last two sips. it burns as it goes down but this fuzz is good. this fuzz will help you ignore the man and the blonde in his arms.

as long as it makes charli happy. and by the looks of it, she’s ecstatic; loudly singing along to a brittany spears hit. you shake your head at her, laughing at first and then joining in. this is fun—normal wedding fun. this is what you’re supposed to be doing at a close friend’s wedding. you are meant to get wasted and dance like a dork on the dance floor. 

you even get twirled around by ross as soon as he sees you dancing. it’s almost like the old times, all your friends having fun together again. and for a brief, blissful moment the presence of the date doesn’t even bother you. 

until you feel yourself trip over your dress and stumble. right into a pair of familiar arms.

he grunts, first from being so unexpectedly knocked into and then when your elbow hits him in the stomach. a small amount of satisfaction sparks in your brain but quickly gets overshadowed by a flood of mortification. 

your entire back is pressed up to matty’s chest, almost a lovers embrace as he steadies you on your feet. 

“careful, darling” he warns, bending to whisper it right in your ear. funny how he repeats the same words his mother had said twenty minutes ago, yet you doubt the thumping of your heart has anything to do with the dancing you’ve been doing. 

the retort is on the tip of your tongue, don’t call me that, four small words that simply refuse to come out. 

“thank you,” you reply breathlessly, clearing your throat against the sudden lump that’s lodged there. 

“steady?” he asks.

his scent is all around you, the same fucking cologne he has worn for the last decade. the same perfume that you can still smell on your pillows sometimes, no matter how many times you wash them. 

“mm-hmm,” you nod, “you can let go now.” you make it a point to stare straight ahead at a bland spot on the wall. fuck your body for hyper-focusing on his heartbeat, fuck your head for spinning at one whiff of his cologne. and absolutely fuck your heart for breaking the second he lets go of you. 

you stay still, only just touching him, still staring ahead until charli comes in your line of vision again. from this close you can smell the alcohol on her breath. she’s almost wasted at this point. 

which is why it’s not really a shock when she gasps loudly. 

“oh my god!” she slaps a hand on her mouth, eyes wide and excited. “you, me, george, and matty. like the old times!” she squeals, slurring half the words. 

“char, no. no—”

“we should dance!” she declares.

“no, pl—”

“george, come here,” she yells over you, unbothered by your protests. and you know you’re doomed when an equally inebriated george comes into view. 

there’s no way of getting out of this. the brittany song is on the last of its notes, about to change into something else. a sense of dread gnaws at your stomach. 

“no, cha—”

“let’s get it over with.” it’s matty, placing a hand on your elbow and spinning you around to face him. he is so close, close enough for you to note the light stubble on his face; not clean-shaven like you’d thought at first. you know exactly what the stubble would feel like if you ran a hand over his face. 

his pink lips are parted slightly, his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes, and his curls fall on his forehead. your hand twitches, desperate to brush them away because you know by the end of the night, they will be falling into his eyes. your stomach turns at the thought of how easily the urge comes. every feeling, every old habit rushing back to hit you full force. 

“shall we?” he asks again, hand extended and waiting for you to take it. but all you can do is stare at it dumbly.

“right,” he says, placing his hand on yours for emphasis, “i don’t want to do it either. but i want to make my friends happy.” 

his friends? indignation flares in your chest, burning hotter than the alcohol. suddenly any and all resurging feelings you’d felt for him just minutes ago evaporate into thin air. if he wants to act like he’s doing you a favour, then fine! if he wants to be an asshole then you can be a bitch right back. the song begins, something sweet and romantic but you narrow your eyes at him, ready for the battle to begin. 

and if you are to win it, then you can’t be focusing too hard on the way his hand comes to rest on the small of your back; warm and reassuring and so so familiar. you can’t be relishing the feel of his warm breath on your shoulder, sending small, delicious tingles down your spine; can’t deliberately feel the way his hips press into yours, creating friction and something much more urgent. 

no! so you square your shoulders and stand tall. 

let’s get this over with then. 

he steps to one side as the music begins to pick up; ever accustomed to taking the lead, and you step to the other side; equally determined to make this difficult for him. he knows of course, because he knows you and how your mind works. more importantly, he knows how your grudges work. 

“are you really going to be difficult again?” he asks, just low enough for you to hear it over the music. “you can’t keep your pettiness aside for five minutes?”

his voice skitters over your bones, taunting and gravelly; matty from years and years ago who would raise goosebumps on your skin and make your blood heat up just by looking at you. 

“my pettiness,” you grit out, “is none of your fucking concern.”

“it is when it’s my best friend’s wedding,” he cuts you off sharply.

“your best friend? as if they are no one to me?”

he tuts, condescending little shit, “can’t have the attention taken away from you for one second can you?”

your voices are rising; no longer the harsh whispers from before. and the distance between your bodies is almost negligible. his hand clutches tightly, is it his intention to hurt or to hold on? you don’t know. you don’t think he knows either. 

“says the man who constantly whines for validation like a little baby,” you spit out, noses almost touching each other’s. 

his eyes, warm and hazel once, are cold hard chips of brown. the anger in them turns his veins red. you imagine he’s seeing red right now, especially as his gaze dips to your mouth—painted red and curled in a sneer. 

“you really have reached a new low, haven’t you, matthew?” you laugh in his face, brutally and sharp enough to cut. a sick and twisted part of you relishes in the fact that his date can see you in his arms. “oh, what must your arm candy think of you for twirling your ex around like this.”

“arm candy?” he scoffs, clearly taken aback. he must have imagined the wedding to be a fancy affair where he would get waisted and twirl his date around until they go back home and fuck in a drunken, sloppy rhythm. he would grope at her breasts like a starved man and she would hook her legs around his waist; much like how you once used to. then she would fall to her knees and satisfy all his needs. “don’t bring grace into—”

“grace?” you snap out of your disturbing train of thoughts about your ex-husband’s bedroom habits. instead, you choose to find happiness in the fact that it won’t be as smooth sailing for him as he thought. “oh, you’ve got to be fucking with me, yeah? your toy is called grace?”

you regret the words as soon as they’re out of your mouth. and not even for the right reasons. 

“that sounds an awful lot like jealousy, darling” matty croons, finding his footing once again. 

your breath hitches. the word is meant to be a weapon, hell, you two are right in the middle of an almost screaming match (again) yet he precisely knows how to wound you with his words (like always).

“don’t,” you warn. you’re falling for the bait by doing so, you know it, he knows it. but you’ll take the small bit of defeat over this. for emphasis, you yank your hand out of his and place it on his chest, as if to push him away. 

his chest heaves slightly and suddenly you’re very aware of the muscles under the fitting white shirt. you should move away, fuck, you should stop touching his chest but your blood turns to lead, heats up your entire body as rage courses freely. 

“don’t pin this on me.” you push him back just slightly, “it’s your need to overcompensate,” another push, “that’s why we’re here,” a third push. 

and then his massive hand is wrapping over yours. you have no time to involuntarily mourn the loss of it on your waist; those tingles have already moved to your hand. 

“losing your cool?” he tuts. 

the infuriating bastard!

there’s a sudden urge to stomp on his feet with your four-inch heels, or better yet, to just knee him in the crotch. but you happen to catch the look on charli’s face. her eyes are wide, worried. this shouldn’t be happening. none of this should be happening. you’re not supposed to be creating a scene at one of your best friends’ wedding. 

“would you look at that…” you peel yourself off him. the lump in your throat is almost overwhelming now and you’d be damned before you cry in front of him again. “you’re ruining your best friend’s wedding.”

before matty can reply, you turn on your heel, keeping your eyes sharply on the exit. this is too much. this evening was a mistake. saying yes to the dance was a mistake. coming here…

a lone tear escapes, tiny and pathetic. it makes you want to slap yourself that you would put your disdain for matty over your love for charli. after everything she’s done for you in the last ten months, after every night you’d spent crying in her bed and in her arms, this is the least you could have done. and yet you’ve failed; as a friend, as a wife, even as a person at this point. 

footsteps slap on the marble floor behind you, getting closer as you step out into the corridor. of course, he’d follow. of course, he wouldn’t know when to leave it alone, picking at all your wounds that are only just scabbing over. 

“stop!” he calls out, “you fucking coward.”

the shock of it alone is enough to freeze you in your place. 

“what did you just say to me?” you blink at him slowly, taking in his cold eyes and lips pressed in a thin line. 

“you fucking coward,” he repeats, “running away from every situation when it gets tough.”

“fuck you, matty,” you spit out, taking a step forward. “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you punctuate each of them with a jab to his chest, stabbing your nails repeatedly into the soft spot over his heart. let him feel it. let him experience a million small deaths. 

“what? nothing witty to say now?” his hand wraps around your wrist, holding it still in place. no matter how much you struggle, he won’t let go. 

his face is inches away. he moves forward, backing you against the wall, holding onto your wrist tightly, mouth open and almost panting as if he can’t get enough air. 

you can’t either. your head spins; so close to him, too close. your faces are inches away and involuntarily you stare at his lips, trembling with rage. this whole evening was a mistake but that doesn’t stop you from fisting your hands in his shirt and crashing your mouth onto his.

lemme know what you think pls <33 🤭

[colleitheglidingchampionofsumeru]

bsd men x fem!reader reader is found on the roof

note:this is my first time posting something like this on here so hope you like it if you would like to request anything they are opened ^^ just ask me about it (btw in Chuuya's part Mori is your dad >:D)

note:ask me before posting my things please if you don't at least give credit I would like it please

warnings:suicide (on dazai's because well it is dazai xD) mentions of a death of a mom and if I missed anything tell me (a cuss word? Or words? xD)

Characters:Dazai,Chuuya,Ranpoo,Poe,Kunikida

Dazai Osamu

He found you sitting down on the edge of the ANA's place he said "I can't believe my eyes!! Is my lover committing suicide WITHOUT ME?!" you would look at him weirdly and just say "you wish" he frowned and sat next to you and hit your arm and would ask what was wrong and you would reply with "_______" (what ever you want it to be) he looked and you and than hugged you than said "we can stop that!" you replied with "how?" He than said "commit suicide with me!!!" you smacked his head and said "how you wish Osamu and smiled

Chuuya Nakahara

He found you on the edge of the port mafia's building he would ask "what are you doing up here love?" you looked at him and said "oh hey" he walked to you and said I'm guessing your taking a break you know from your dad? You nodded and he sat down next to you and said "why does he give you a hard time?" You just replied with "I don't know. Just ever since my mom passed away it was hard on both of us" he would just listen to you and when you said that you wanted to be someone to somebody hit a bit hard on him you and Chuuya met each other when he joined the port mafia so he didn't know your full life he hugged you in a tight hug and said "well you are someone to somebody now" and kissed your head than said "enjoy your break from you father until you can't"

Ranpo Edogawa

He found you on the roof well he didn't find so you can say he knew you were there Dazai has asked where we're you and Ranpo said I'll go and get her and went to the roof and there he saw you sitting on the edge and skipped to you and sat down next to you and hugged you saying "your gonna get mean old Kunikida mad at youu" you just giggled and said ge won't ranpo asked "so why are you up here?" you thought he was playing stupid but you didn't know so you said "just ______ that's all" he nodded and kissed your check and said "you better hurry up with it Kunikida is gonna get mad" you nodded and he said "OH! RIGHT! come with me to get snacks! please?-" and he did the puppy eyes you rolled your eyes playfully and said "okay I'll come with you" he said "yay!!!" He kissed your cheek and said meet you in the office my love and got up and left and you went a bit after him

Poe Allan Edgar

You saw Poe from the corner of your eyes with Karl on his shoulders he said "my love why are you out here? it is Cold" you wondered how he knew you were there and you asked he said "Karl told me" poe than sat down next to you and he said "it's cold my love get inside" you replied with "I'm fine poe really I just need some fresh arm" he hugged you and Karl went on your lap and curled in a ball poe than said I'll be right back than and got up and left you pet Karl and he fell asleep after a few minutes Poe came back with Karl's blanket and another one he handed you Karl's as he wrapped the other one around you and you out Karl's blanket well on Karl and poe sat down again next to you it was the time the sun was seting so you two watched it and you fell asleep on Poe's shoulder

Kunikida Doppo

He found you on the roof of the ADA's roof and he said "and why aren't you doing your work! we have a tight schedule and can't have another person not doing work other than Dazai!" You looked at him and said it is my break time Kunikida look at the time" he did and said "oh well than good!" you giggled and said "and why aren't you doing work mr.do your work?" He looked at you and said it happens to seems my break to- and said down next to me and said "you better not me lying young Mrs" you smiled at him and said "don't worry about that Kunikida the only time I would lie about a break is to help Dazai" he rolled his eyes and said "still don't get why you help that Bastard always leaving work skipping meetings and things like that it's annoying!" and you took his book he had every tike he said "HEY give that back!" And you grabbed his pen and opennthe book to a page he wrote on and drew something and gave it back to him kissing his cheek he looked at you than looked at what you drew it was on the page about your's and his relationship you swear you seems his blush he said "i- your break time is over! Get back to work you!" you just giggled andgot off the roof and walked back in the office

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

On this day... - June 13th

On this day Led Zeppelin performed:

+ 1969 : Town Hall in Birmingham, UK

“According to the ads, the only way to fly is by Led Zeppelin. On Friday night at Birmingham Town Hall, at the start of a five-date tour, the group certainly took off all right. The passengers were Bloodwyn Pig, the Liverpool Scene and a full house. An almighty wall of sound and a huge crashing of drums signaled the start of the group’s act which eventually overran by quite some time.” – ‘Zeppelin Fly High’ by R. Green (NME)

+ 1972 : The Spectrum in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA

“The histrionics of the band members, the awesome pretension of their loudness and stage antics, made it clear that several elements go into “superstar” concerts. First, of course, is the music. To fill a hall the size of the Spectrum […] huge amplification systems are needed. Every little instrument, even the hi-hat on the drum kit, must have a microphone place next to it. What happens then is that a little sound, such as a tambourine being shaken, becomes a mighty apocalyptic noise, louder than if the sky were to fall. Everything, in other words, gets bigger and louder and seemingly more important. Then, the ambience of the hall and the people in it is important. With about 17,000 people on hand, rock-festival-like hassles are inevitable. […] And the huge throng, which carpets the mammoth hall, makes demands on the musicians for showmanship and song selection that no one could possibly fulfill. […] Zeppelin played for two-and-a-half hours last night, a rarity. But the overall impression was that they sailed flashily and mightily, but failed somehow to engage, working below the level when the brain gears in.” – ‘Led Zeppelin’s music needs the Spectrum’ by W. Mandel (Bulletin)

+ 1977 : Madison Square Garden in New York, New York, USA

“Down in the arena, it was after eight and the crowd knew it. There was wild cheering after every song on the public address system and waving of flags and banners. […] The massive garden was already alive with a frenzy it would not lose until after midnight. […] Coming almost exactly halfway through the performance, the acoustic set was Zeppelin’s surprising non-surprise. It was surprising because, aren’t these guys the terrible overlords of heavy metal? And yet not surprising because we had all been clued in to this unexpected turn of events. […] Kashmir brought the crowd back to rock reality, as the thunderous Zeppelin epic reverberated through the Garden. […] And for the umpteenth time, Stairway to Heaven knocked ‘em cold. Their ‘song of hope’ is a song that no Zep audience could leave without hearing, for everyone needs the kind of wishful wondering that Stairway has to offer. The crowd was spellbound and did not seem to notice, or care that Plant forgot several verses. The song was there, and that was more than enough.” – ‘Led Zeppelin’s Garden party’ (Sunday Magazine)